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"THE COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND." 

[To the Editor of the " Spectator."! 

Sib, — You record in your last issue (p. 3) Bishop Westcott's 

interrogative criticism upon this ill-conceived work : " Should 
you like any one to write a comic .Prayer-book r 1 " It deserves 

notice that almost the same remark had been made by a 

curiously dissimilar critic, Douglas Jcrrold, who says of this 

volume : — " Think of a Comic History of England ! Tho 

drollery of Alfred ; the farce df Sir Thomas More's daughter 

begging his dead head and clasping it in her coffin ! Some 

men would write a Comic Sermon on the Mount." — I am, 

Sir, &c, Courtney Kenny. 

Downing College, Camhridae. 

The Archbishop of Canterbury in the course of a sermon 
preached in his Cathedral last Sunday impressed on his 
hearers the danger of tampering with the sacredness of 
history. He described how in his school-days at Harrow he 
and some other boys were looking at " The Comic History of 
England," a well-known work burlesquing successive scenes 
in English history. " Our house-master, to be known in after 
years to the whole world as one of our present-day prophets 
— Dr. Westcott, Bishop of Durham — came into the room, 
and we called his attention to the book we were enjoying. 
He quietly and gravely refused to look at it, but all he said 
was to ask us in the piercingly suggestive way characteristic 
of him all through his life : ' Should you like somebody to 
write a comic Prayer-book?' For me at least the shaft 
struck home, to my abiding profit." The comparison is 
perhaps extreme, but it serves to remind us of the difference 
x > between legitimate satire and wanton, purposeless travesty. 





EX LIBRIS 




THE COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND 




U 



O 

o 

t— c 

Q 



The Comic 
History of England 



BY 



GILBERT ABBOTT A'BECKETT 




CLIO INSTRUCTING THE YOUNG BRITISH LION IN HISTORY. 

WITH REPRODUCTIONS OF THE 200 ENGRAVINGS 

BY JOHN LEECH 

AND TWENTY PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 
NEW EDITION. 



LONDON 

GEORGE ROUTLEDGE & SONS, Limited 

New York — E. P. Dutton & Co 



MAY 31 \97Z 



& 









33 



PBEFACE. 



In commencing this work, the object of the Author was, 
as he stated in the Prospectus, to blend amusement with 
instruction, by serving up, in as palatable a shape as he could, 
the facts of English History. He pledged himself not to 
sacrifice the substance to the seasoning; and though he has 
certainly been a little free in the use of his sauce, he hopes 
that he has not produced a mere hash on the present 
occasion. His object has been to furnish something which 
may be allowed to take its place as a standing dish at the 
library table, and which, though light, may not be found 
devoid of nutriment. That food is certainly not the most 
wholesome which is the heaviest and the least digestible. 

Though the original design of this History was only to 
place facts in an amusing light, without a sacrifice of fidelity, 
it is humbly presumed that truth has rather gained than 
lost by the mode of treatment that has been adopted- 
Persons and things, events and characters, have been deprived 
of their false colouring, by the plain and matter-of-fact 
spirit in which they have been approached by the writer of 
the " Comic History of England." He has never scrupled to 
take the liberty of tearing off the masks and fancy dresses 
of all who have hitherto been presented in disguise to the 



Vi PBEFACB. 

notice of posterity. Motives are treated in these pages as 
unceremoniously as men ; and as the human disposition was 
much the same in former times as it is in the present day, 
it has been judged by the rules of common sense, which are 
alike at every period. 

Some, who have been accustomed to look at History as a 
pageant, may think it a desecration to present it in a homely 
shape, divested of its gorgeous accessories. Such persons as 
these will doubtless feel offended at finding the romance of 
history irreverently demolished, for the sake of mere reality. 
They will — perhaps honestly though erroneously — accuse the 
author of a contempt for what is great and good ; but the 
truth is, he has so much real respect for the great and good, 
that he is desirous of preventing the little and bad from 
continuing to claim admiration upon false pretences. 



CONTENTS. 



BOOK I. 

FAGR 

Chap. I. The JBritons — the Romans — Invasion by Julius Cnesar . . 1 
II. Invasion by the Romans under Claudius — Caractacus — Boadicea 

— Agricola — Galgacus — Severus — Vortigern calls in the Saxons 7 

III. The Saxons— The Heptarchy 12 

IV. The Union of the Heptarchy under Egbert . . . . 16 
V. The Danes— Alfred 20 

VI. From King Edward the Elder to the Norman Conquest . . 27 
VII. Edmund Ironsides — Canute — Harold Harefoot — Hardicanute — 

Edward the Confessor — Harold — The Battle of Hastings . 40 



BOOK II. 

THE PERIOD FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO THE DEATH OF KING JOHN. 

Chap. I. William the Conqueror 56 

II. William Rufus 68 

III. Henry the First, surnamed Beauclerc 76 

IV. Stephen 81 

V. Henry the Second, surnamed Plantagenet 84 

VI. Richard the First, surnamed Cceur de Lion . . . . 93 

VII. John, surnamed Sansterre, or Lackland . • < • 104 



Vlll CONTENTS. 



BOOK III. 



THE PERIOD FROM THE ACCESSION OF HENRY THE THIRD TO THE E> D 0? 

THE REIGN OF RICHARD THE SECOND, A.D. 121G — 1399. 

CAGE 

Chap. I. Henry the Third, surnamed of Winchester 119 

II. Edward the First, surnamed LoDgshanks . . . . 133 

III. Edward the Second, surnamed of Caernarvon . . . 150 

IV. Edward the Third 159 

V. Richard the Second, surnamed of Bordeaux . . . .190 

VI. On the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the People . . 207 

BOOK IV. 

THE PERIOD FROM THE ACCESSION OF HENRY THE FOURTH TO THE END 
OF THE REIGN OF RICHARD THE THIRD, A.D. 1399 — 1485. 

Chap. I. Henry the Fourth, surnamed Bolingbroke 213 

II. Henry the Fifth, surnamed of Monmouth .... 230 

III. Henry the Sixth, surnamed of Windsor ... . 253 

IV. Henry the Sixth, surnamed of Windsor — (concluded) . , 265 
V. Edward the Fourth 289 

VI. Edward the Fifth 298- 

VII. Richard the Third 305 

VIII. National Industry 323 

IX. Of the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the People . . 326 

BOOK V. 

FROM THE ACCESSION OF HENRY THE SEVENTH TO THE END OF THE 

REIGN OF ELIZABETH. 

Chap. I. Henry the Seventh 330 

II. Henry the Eighth 345 

HI. Henry the Eighth — (continued") 359 

IV. Henry the Eighth — (continued) ... ... 373 

V. Henry the Eighth — (concluded) 391 

VI. Edward the Sixth 411 

VII. Mary 418 

VIII. Elizabeth 431 

IX. Elizabeth — (continued) ... . 438 

2£. Elizabeth — (concluded) 446- 



CONTENTS. IS 

BOOK VI. 

FROM THE PERIOD OF THE ACCESSION OF JAMES THE FIRST TO THE 

RESTORATION OF CHARLES THE SECOND. 

PAGR 

Chap. I. James the First 455 

II. James the First — (concluded) 470 

III. Charles the First 484 

IV. Charles the First — (continued') 495 

V. Charles the First — (concluded) . 503 

VI. The Commonwealth 513. 

VII. Richard Cromwell 531 

VIII. On the National Industry and the Literature, Manners, Customs, 

and Condition of the People 533 

BOOK VII. 

THE PERIOD FROM THE RESTORATION OF CHARLES THE SECOND TO THE 

REVOLUTION. 

Chap. I. Charles the Second 538 

II. Charles the Second — (continued) 550 

III. Charles the Second — (concluded) 559 

IV. James the Second 571 

V. Literature, Science, Fine Arts, Manners, Customs, and Condition 

of the People .......... 579' 

BOOK VIII. 

THE PERIOD FROM THE REVOLUTION TO THE ACCESSION OF GEORGE 

THE THIRD. 

Chap. I. William and Mary 583 

II. William the Third 592 

III. Anne (500 

IV. George the First 609 

V. George the Second 621 

VI. George the Second — (concluded) 629 

VII. On the Constitution, Government and Laws, National Industry. 
Literature, Science, Fine Arts, Manners, Customs, and Con- 
dition of the People 632 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAO« 

Druidical Remains 1 

Time Bowling out the Druids 2 

Cassar looking for the Pearls for which Britain was formerly celebrated . 4 

Caesar receiving Intelligence of the Destruction of his Fleet ... 5 

Ancient Armed Briton 6 

Portrait of Julius Agricola 8 

The Emperor Severus leads his Army against the Northern Barbarians . 9 

Rowena and Vortigern 13 

Ida qiiitting his Kingdom 15 

Initial I 16 

" Non Angli sed Angeli forent si fuissent Christiani " .... 17 

Battle between the Mercians and Egbert. — Cotton MS. .... 19 

An Illuminated Letter .......... 20 

Guthium pays an Evening Visit to Alfred 23 

Initial O . 27 

Edmund and Leof 29 

Coronation of Ethelred the Unready 32 

Settling the Bill 35 

A Dane securing his Booty 36 

Soldier of the Period 37 

Thurkill's little Account , 38 

Ethelred despatching a Letter by his Son 40 

" Flee, English 1 dead is Edmund 1 ' 41 

Canute performing on his favourite Instrument 44 

Canute reproving his Courtiers 46 

A frightful Example. Death of Hardicanute 48 

Unpleasant Position of King Harold . 50 

The Landing of William the Conqueror 54 

William refusing his Daughter to Edwin 59 

The Bishop of Durham 64 

William departing for France 6G 

Initial W 08 

Odo dismissed from Rochester Castle 69 

Robert Curt-hose trying to get a Bill discounted 72 

Reading the Dream 73 

Flight of Sir Walter Tyrrel. Horse of the Period 74 



Xll 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



The Great Seal of Henry the First ..... 

The Effects of Extravagance 

King Stephen in Prison 

A Clerical Weathercock 

Initial H 

Henry the Second dismissing the Foreign Barons . 

Gilbert a Becket. Thomas a Becket 

Queen Eleanor and Fair Rosamond ...... 

Initial R ......... . 

Blondel, the Minstrel, under the walls of Richard's Prison 

Bertrand de Gourdon before Richard 

Arrival of Richard's Legacy at Rouen 

Initial J .......... 

Prince Arthur requires his Grandmother to surrender 

King John threatens to cut off the Noses of the Bishops 

The Bishop of Beauvais capturing Salisbury . 

John in a Passion ......... 

Tail Piece 

Initial H 

The Earl of Chester interposing between Henry the Third and 

Burgh 

Marriage of his most Gracious Majesty Henry the Third and 
Provence ......... 

Initial E 

Edward and the Count of Chalons 

Earl de Warenne producing his title to the Commissioners 
King Edward introducing his Son as Prince of Wales, to 

acquired Subjects 

Portrait of William Wallace, from an old Wood Block 

Tax Collecting in the reign of Edward the First 

Initial E .......... . 

Edward the Second and his Favourite, Piers Gaveston 
Parley between Piers Gaveston and the Earl of Pembroke 
Edward the Second resigning his Crown .... 

Thomas of Rokeby receiving the honour of Knighthood . 
Edward pawning the Crown with the Archbishop of Treves 

Edward's arrival at the Tower 

Fancy Portrait of Inspector Baliol 

Madame de Montfort astonishing the French Fleet 
Assassination of Artaveldt the Brewer .... 

Edward the Third on the morning of the Battle of Cressy 
Edward the Third at the Battle of Cressy .... 

Origin of the Order of the Garter 

Edward the Black Prince conducting his Prisoner 

Initial I 

Fancy Portrait of the Champion of England 

Richard thinks it high time he managed his own affairs 

Henry of Bolingbroke and the Duke of York transacting business 



Hubert de 



Eleanor of 



pagh 

7(1 

78 

82 

83 

84 

S6 

88 

90 

93 

99 

102 

103 

104 

106 

108 

111 

112 

118 

119 



his ncwlv 



ILLUSTRATIONS. Xlll 

PAGE 

Richard the Second conducted a Prisoner to Chester . 202 

A Practical Joke. Deposition of Richard the Second . 205 

Initial B 207 

Anglo-Saxon Husbandman 209 

Fox-hunting Bishop of the Period 211 

Initial T 213 

Entrance of Dymock, the Champion, at the Coronation P>anquet . . 218 

Mr. Owen Glendower armed by his trusty clerk 222 

Unseemly conduct of Henry, Prince of Wales 229 

Lord Mayor of the Period arresting a suspicious Twelfth-Night Character . 233 

Henry the Fifth sends a Friend to the Dauphin 238 

Henry inspecting his Troops before the Battle of Agincourt . . . 241 

English Soldier securing Prisoner at the Battle of Agincourt . . . 244 
The Duke of Burgundy introducing Queen Isabella and his Daughter to 

Henry the Fifth 247 

Initial H 253 

Initial B 265 

Joan at the Walls of Paris • 267 

Joan trying it on . . . . . . . . ■ . . • 270 

The King of Sicily and his Household 276 

Banishment of Suffolk 279 

Quarrel between Somerset and York 284 

Margaret of Anjou and her Child meeting the benevolent Robber . . 287 

Initial E 289 

Edward the Fourth meeting Elizabeth Woodville 291 

Field of Battle (in a fog) near Barnet 293 

Duke of Gloucester, disguised as a Policeman, discovering Lady Anne . 294 

Cannon and Cannon-ball of the Period 297 

Initial H 298 

The Bishop of Ely presenting a Pottle of Strawberries to the Duke of 

Gloucester 300 

Arrest of Lord Hastings and Lord Stanley 301 

The Citizens offering the Crown to Richard 304 

Initial R 305 

The Duke of Gloucester goes into mourning for his little Nephews . 307 

Henry Tudor, Esq 309 

Richard the Third and his celebrated charger, White Surrey . . 315 

Coronation of Henry the Seventh on the Field of Battle .... 320 

" Would York like to go with his Uncle Dick ? " 322 

" Ya-ah ! Macker — el I " William of Trumpington, the Abbot of St. 

Alban's 325 

Initial N 326 

Initial T 330 

Henry the Seventh taking a Chop with the Archbishop of Canterbury . 331 

A Young Pretender 333 

Perkin Warbeck and his Army . 338 

Henry the Seventh and Perkin Warbeck's Wife 339 

Perkin Warbeck Reading his Confession . . . . . 341 



XIV 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Initial H 

Henry the Eighth and Catherine of Aragon .... 

Henry's Tent 

Henry pardoning the young Couple 

Initial A 

Politeness of Francis to Henry 

The Du^e of Buckingham suspects that he is watched 

The citizens of Bruges supplying Wolsey's Suite with Provisions 

Henry practising previous to challenging Francis 

E lection of Pope. Getting to the top of the pole . 

Cardinal Wolsey at Boulogne 

Henry answering " Hear ! " at the Trial of Queen Catherine 
Cardinal Campeggio and Mr. Sampson. — " I can hear nothin 

Mr. Sampson." .... 

Wolsey surrendering the Great Seal 

Initial T 

Birth of the Princess Elizabeth 

Henry is determined not to be bullied 

Henry making love to Jane Seymour . 

Delight of Henry at having a Son and Heir 

Henry wooing Catherine Parr 

Shilling of Henry the Eighth 

Initial A ......... 

English Archer of the Period, from such a rare old Print 
The Duke of Northumberland offers to fight any one of them 
Sir Thomas Wyatt sui-rendering to Sir Maurice Berkeley 

Philip and Mary 

Philip (of England and Spain) hears of his Wife's Death 

fnitial T 

Honest Jack Tars of the Period 

Lord Darn ley ...... 

Mary's Elopement 

Lord Burleigh 

Initial T 

James the First on his way to England 

Flight of Rookwood .... 

Guy Fawkes before and after the Torture . 

Initial T . . ... 

King James disposing of Baronetcies. .... 

Bacon. y e great Moral Philosopher. From a remarkably scarce 

King James rescued from the New River .... 

His Gracious Majesty Charles the First borrowing Money 

Felton admits that he killed the Duke .... 

The Member for Huntingdon 

Initial T 

Something like argument 

Charles the First does not know which way to turn . 
Trained Baud. Soldier of the Period 



now, 



Print 



ILLUSTRATIONS. I> 

PAGK. 

The Barebones Parliament 519 

Arrest of Wildman ...... . 524 

One of the Protector's Tea Parties . . 526 

One, Two, Three, and Under 529 

Cromwell playing at Leap-frog with his Children 530 

Initial C 531 

The Balance of Power 536 

Charles the Second 538 

Charles driving the Mail 550 

Charles is informed of a Plot against his precious life .... 553. 

T. Oates, Esq 554 

Noble Lord. — "I believe I'm engaged to your La'ship for the next 

dance." 556 

Arrest of Lord Howard of Escrick 563. 

Judge Jeffreys 566 

The Merry Monarch 570 

Initial T.— Titus Oates in the Pillory 571, 

Great Seal of William and Mary 583. 

Awkward Mistake 585 

Initial W 592 

Captain Fisher doesn't think he can do it at the price .... 594 

William the Third out Hunting ... 597 

Initial T 600 

Discovering of the Laws of Gravitation by Isaac Newton . 603 

Anne going to open Parliament 607 

Initial I 609 

George the First putting on a clean collar 611 

The Blue Bonnets coming over the Border 624, 



FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGB 

The Landing of Julius Csesar (Frontispiece') 

William the Conqueror inspecting the Volunteers previous to the Invasion 

of England 51 

Terrific Combat between Richard Cceur de Lion and Saladin ... 95 

King John signing Magna Charta 113 

Edward's Arm in the hands of his Medical Advisers 135 

Queen Philippa interceding with Edward the Third for the Six Burgesses 

of Calais 181 

•Coronation of Henry the Fourth (from the best authorities) . . .215 

Embarkation of Henry the Fifth at Southampton, A.D. 1415 . . 235 

Marriage of Henry the Sixth and Margaret of Anjou 273 

The Battle of Bosworth Field: a Scene in the great Drama of History 317 

Henry the Eighth meeting Francis the First ...... 355 

Henry the Eighth and his Queen " Out a-Maying" 377 

Henry the Eighth Monk-hunting 390 

Queen Elizabeth and Sir Walter Raleigh 443 

Discovery of Guido Fawkes by Suffolk and Monteagle . . . 4G3 

"*' Take away that Bauble." Cromwell dissolving the Long Parliament . 517 

The Royal Oak. The Penderell Family have no idea where Charles is ! ! ! 541 

Evening Party — Time of Charles the Second ... 557 

The Battle of the Boyne 539 

•<ieorgey Porgey the First going out for a ride in his State Coachy Poachy 619 



THE 



Comic History of England 



BOOK I. 

CHAPTEE THE FIEST. 



THE BRITONS — THE ROMANS — INVASION BY JULIUS CESAR. 



T has always been the good 
fortune of the antiquarian who 
has busied himself upon the sub- 
ject of our ancestors, that the 
total darkness by which they are 
overshadowed, renders it impos- 
sible to detect the blunderings 
of the antiquarian himself, who 
has thus been allowed to 
grope about the dim twilight 
of the past, and entangle him- 
self among its cobwebs, without 
any light being thrown upon 
his errors. 

But while the antiquarians 
have experienced no obstruction 
from others, they have managed 
to come into collision among 
themselves, and have knocked 
their heads together with con- 
siderable violence in the process 
of what they call exploring the dark ages of our early history. We 
are not unwilling to take a walk amid the monuments of antiquity, 
which we should be sorry to run against or tumble over for want of 
proper light ; and we shall therefore only venture so far as we can 
have the assistance of the bull's-eye of truth, rejecting altogether the 
allurements of the Will o' the Wisp of mere probability. It is not 
because former historians have gone head over heels into the gulf 

B 




COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I, 



of conjecture, that \vc are to turn a desperate somersault after 
them.* 

The best materials for getting at the early history of a country are 
its coins, its architecture, and its manners. The Britons, however, 
had not yet converted the Britannia metal — for which their valour 
always made them conspicuous — into coins, while their architecture, 
to judge from the Druidical remains, was of the wicket style, con- 
sisting of two or three stones stuck upright in the earth, with another 
stone laid at the top of them ; after the fashion with which all lovers 
of the game of cricket are of course familiar. As this is the only 
architectural assistance we arc likely to obtain, we decline entering 
upon the subject through such a gate ; or, to use an expression 
analogous to the pastime to which we have referred, we refuse to take 
our innings at such a wicket. Wc need hardly add, that in looking 




Time Bowling out the Druids. 

to the manners of our ancestors for enlightenment, we look utterly 
in vain, for there is no Druidical Chesterfield to afford us anv in- 
formation upon the etiquette of that distant period. There is every 
reason to believe that our forefathers lived in an exceedingly rude 
state ; and it is therefore perhaps as well that their manners — or 
rather their want of manners — should be buried in oblivion. 

It was formerly very generally believed that the first population of 
this country descended from iEneas, the performer of the most filial 
act of pick-a-back that ever was known ; and that the earliest 

* Some historians tell us that the most conclusive evidence of things that have 
happened is to be found in the reports of the Time*. This source of information is, 
howeyei r the Times, unfortunately, had no reporters when these 

isles were fust inhabited. 



CHAP. ! ] ORIGIN OF THE ANCIENT BRITONS. 3 

Britons were sprung from his grandson — one Brutus, who, preserving 
the family peculiarity, came into this island on the shoulders of 
the people.* Hollinshed, that greatest of antiquarian gohemouchcs , 
has not only taken in the story we have just told, but has added a 
few of his own ingenious embellishments. He tells us that Brutus 
fell in with the posterity of the giant Albion, who was put to death 
by Hercules, whose buildings at Lambeth are the only existing 
proofs of his having ever resided in this country. 

Considering it unprofitable to dwell any longer on those points, 
about which all writers are at loggerheads, we come at once to that 
upon which they are all agreed, which is, that the first inhabitants 
were a tribe of Celtae from the Continent : that, in fact, the earliest 
Englishmen were all Frenchmen ; and that, however bitter and 
galling the fact may be, it is to Gaul that we owe our origin. We 
ought perhaps to mention that Ctesar thinks our sea-ports were 
peopled by Belgic invaders, from Brussels, thus causing a sprinkling 
of Brussels sprouts among the native productions of England. 

Tbe name of our country — Britannia — has also been the subject of 
ingenious speculation among the antiquarians. To sum up all their 
conjectures into one of our own, we think they have succeeded in 
dissolving the word Britannia into Brit, or Brick, and tan, which 
would seem to imply that the natives always behaved like bricks in 
tanning their enemies. The suggestion that the syllable tan, means 
tin, and that Britannia is synonymous with tin land, appears to be 
rather a modern notion, for it is only in later ages that Britannia has 
become emphatically the land of tin, or the country for making money. 

The first inhabitants of the island lived by pasture, and not by trade. 
They as yet knew nothing of the till, but supported themselves by 
tillage. Their dress was picturesque rather than elegant. A book 
of truly British fashions would be a great curiosity in the present 
day, and we regret that we have no Petit Courier dcs Druides, or 
Celtic Belle Assemblee, to furnish figurines of the costume of the 
period. Skins, however, were much worn, for morning as well as for 
evening dress ; and it is probable that even at that early age ingenuity 
may have been exercised to suggest new patterns for cow cloaks and 
other varieties of the then prevailing articles of the wardrobe. 

The Druids, who were the priests, exercised great ascendancy over 
the people, and often claimed the spoils of war, together with other 
property, under the plea of offering up the proceeds as a sacrifice to 
the divinities. These treasures, however, were never accounted for ; 
and it is now too late for the historians to file, as it were, a bill in 
equity to inquire what has become of them. 

Cossar, who might have been so called from his readiness to seize 

* The story of Brutus and the Trojans has been told in such a variety of ways, 
that it is difficult to make either head or tail of it. Geoffrey of Monmouth says 
that Brutus found Britain deserted, except by a few giants — from which it is to be 
presumed that Brutus lauded at Greenwich about the time of the fair. Perhaps 
the introduction of troy-weight into our arithmetic may be traced to the immigra- 
tion of the Trojans, who were very likely to adopt the measures — and why not the 
weights — with which they had been familiar, . 

B— 2 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I 



upon everything, now turned his eyes and directed his arms upon 
Britain. According to some he was tempted by the expectation of 
finding peai'ls, which he hoped to get out of the oysters, and he there- 
fore broke in upon the natives with considerable energy. Whatever 




Caesar looking for the Pearls for which Britain was formerly celebrated. 

may have been Caesar's motives the fact is pretty well ascertained, 
that at about ten o'clock one fine morning in August — some say a 
quarter past — he reached the British coast with 12,000 infantry, 
packed in eighty vessels. lie had left behind him the whole of his 
cavalry — the Roman horse-marines — who were detained by contrary 
winds on the other side of the sea, and though anxious to be in 
communication with their leader, they never could get into the right 
channel. At about three in the afternoon, Caesar having taken an 
raily dinner, began to disembark his forces at a spot called to this 
day the Sandwich Flats, from the people having been such flats as to 
allow the enemy to effect a landing. While the Roman soldiers were 
standing shilly-shallying at the side of their vessels, a standard- 
bearer of the tenth legion, or, as we should call him, an ensign in 
the tenth, jumped into the water, which was nearly up to his knees, 
and addressing a claptrap to his comrades as he stood in the sea, 
completely turned the tide in Caesar's favour. After a severe shindy 
on the shingles, the Britons withdrew, leaving the Romans masters 
of the beach, where Caesar erected a marquee for the accommodation 
of his cohorts. The natives sought and obtained peace, which had 
no sooner been concluded, than the Roman horse-marines were seen 



CHAP. I.] 



INVASION BY JULIUS C2ESAR. 



riding across the Channel. A tempest, however, arising, the horses 
were terrified, and the waves beginning to mount, added so much to 
the confusion, that the Eoraan cavalry were compelled to back to the 
point they started from. The same storm gave a severe blow to the 
camp of Caesar, on the. beach, dashing his galleys and transports 
against the rocks which they were sure to split upon. Daunted by 
these disasters, the invaders, after a few breezes with the Britons, 
took advantage of a favourable gale to return to Gaul, and thus for a 
time the dispute appeared to have blown over. 

Caesar's thoughts, however, still continued to run in one, namely, 
the British, Channel. In the spring of the ensuing year, he rigged out 
800 ships, into which he contrived to cram 32,000 men, and with this 
force he was permitted to land a second time by those horrid fiats at 
Sandwich. The Britons for some time made an obstinate resistance 
in their chariots, but they ultimately took a fly across the country, 
and retreated with great rapidity. Caesar had scarcely sat down to 
breakfast the next morning when he heard that a tempest had wrecked 
all his vessels. At this intelligence he burst into tears, and scam- 




Caesar receiving Intelligence of the Destruction of his Fleet 

pered off to the sea coast, with all his legions in full cry, hurrying 
after him. 

The news of the disaster turned out to be no exaggeration, for thera 
were no penny-a-liners in those days ; and, having earned his ships a 
good way inland, where they remained like fish out of water, he set 



COMIC tliSfOfc* Ctf ENt}t.A»D. 



[book t. 



out once more in pursuit of the enemy. The Britons head, however, 
made the most of their time, and had found a leader in the person of 
Cassivelaunus, alias Caswallon, a quarrelsome old Celt, who had so 
frequently thrashed his neighbours, that he was thought the most 
likely person to succeed in thrashing the Romans. This gallant 
individual was successful in a few rough off handed engagements ; but 
when it came to the fancy work, where tactics were required, the disci- 
plined Roman troops were more than a match for him . His soldiers hav- 
ing been driven back to their woods, he drove himself back in his chariot 
to the neighbourhood of Chertsey, where he had a few acres of 
ground, which he called a Kingdom. He then stuck some wooden 
posts in the middle of the Thames, as an impediment to Caesar, who, 
in the plenitude of his vaulting ambition, laid his hands on the posts 
and vaulted over them. 

The army of Cassivelaunus being now disbanded, his establishment 
was reduced to 4000 chariots, which he kept up for the purpose of 
harassing the Romans. As each chariot required at least a pair of horses, 
his 4000 vehicles, and the enormous stud they entailed, must have been 
rather more harassing to Cassivelaunus himself than to the enemy. 

This extremely extravagant Celt, who had long been the object of 
the jealousy of his neighbours, was now threatened by their treachery. 
The chief of the Trinobantes, who lived in Middlesex, and were 
perhaps the earliest Middlesex magistrates, sent ambassadors to 
Coasar, promising submission. They also showed him the way to the 
contemptible cluster of houses which Cassivelaunus dignified with the 
name of his capital. It was surrounded with a ditch, and a rampart 
made chiefly of mud, the article in which militaiy engineering seemed 
to have stuck at that early period. Cassivelaunus was driven by 
Caesar from his abode, constructed of clay and felled ti'ees, and so 
precipitate was the flight of the Briton, that he had only time to pack 
up a few necessary articles, leaving everything else to fall into the 
hands of the enemy. 

The Roman General, being tired of his British cxmpaign, was 
glad to listen to the overtures of Cassivelaunus ; but these over- 
tures consisted of promissory notes, which 
Wjre never realised. The Celt undertook 
10 transmit an annual tribute to Coesar, 
who never got a penny of the money ; and 
the hostages he had carried with him to 
Gaul became a positive burden to him, for 
they were never taken out of pawn by 
their countrymen. It is believed that they 
were ultimately got rid of at a sale of 
unredeemed pledges, where they were 
put up in lots of half a dozen, and knocked 
down as slaves to the highest bidder. 

Before quitting the subject of Cfflsar's 
invasion, it may be interesting to the 




Ancient Armed Uriton. 

reader to know something of the weapons with which the early 
Britons attempted to defend themselves. 



Their swords were made 



eSAP. II.] INVASION BY THE EMPEROR CtAtJt)IttS. 9 

of copper, and generally bent with the first blow, which inust have 
greatly straitened their aggressive resources, for the swords thus 
followed their own bent, instead of carrying out the intentions of 
the persons using them. This provoking pliancy of the material 
must often have made the soldier as ill-tempered as his own weapon. 
The Britons carried also a dirk, and a spear, the latter of which 
they threw at the foe, as an effectual means of pitching into 
him. A sort of reaping-hook was attached to their chariot wheels, 
and was often very useful in reaping the laurels of victory. 

For nearly one hundred years after Coesar's invasion, Britain was 
undisturbed by the Bomans, though Caligula, that neck-or-nothing 
tyrant, as his celebrated wish entitles him to be called, once or 
twice had his eye upon it. The island, however, if it attracted the 
Imperial eye, escaped the lash, during the period specified. 



CHAPTEK THE SECOND. 

INVASION l'.Y THE ROMANS UNDER CLAUDIUS — CARACTACUS — BOADICEA 
— AGRICOLA— GALGACUS — SEVERUS — VORTIGERN CALLS IN THE 

SAXONS. 

It was not until ninety-seven years after Crcsar had seized upon 
the island that it was unceremoniously clawed by the Emperor 
Claudius. Kent and Middlesex fell an easy prey to the Boman 
power ; nor did the brawny sons of Canterbury — since so famous for 
its brawn — succeed in repelling the enemy. Aulus Plautius, the 
Boman general, pursued the Britons under that illustrious character, 
Caractus. He retreated towards Lambeth Marsh, and the swampy 
nature of the ground gave the invaders reason to feel that it was some- 
what too 

" Far into the bowels of the land 
They had march'd on without impediment.*' 

Vespasian, the second in command, made a tour in the Isle of 
Wight, then called Vectis, where he boldly took the Bull by the horns, 
and seized upon Cowes with considerable energy. Still, little was 
done till Ostorius Scapula — whose name implies that he was a 
sharp blade — put his shoulder to the wheel, and erected a line of 
defences — a line in which he was so successful that it may have been 
called his peculiar forte — to protect the territory that had been acquired. 

After a series of successes, Ostorius having suffocated every breath 
of liberty in Suffolk, and hauled the inhabitants of Newcastle over the 
coals, drove the people of Wales before him like so many Welsh 
rabbits ; and even the brave Caractacus was obliged to fly as well as 
he could, with the remains of one of the wings of the British army. 
He was taken to Borne with his wife and children, in fetters, but his 
dignified conduct procured his chains to be struck off, and from this 
moment we lose the chain of his history. 



8 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[book I. 



Ostorius, who remained in Britain, was so harassed by the natives 
thas he was literally worried to death ; but in the reign of Nero (a.d. 
59), Suetonius fell upon Mona, now the Isle of Anglesey, where the 
bowlings, cries, and execrations of the people were so awful, that the 
name of Mona was singularly appropriate. Notwithstanding, how- 
ever, the terrific oaths of the natives, they could not succeed in 
swearing away the lives of their aggressors. Suetonius, having made 
them pay the penalty of so much bad language, was called up to 
London, then a Eoman colony; but he no sooner arrived in town, 
than he was obliged to include himself among the departures, in con- 
sequence of the fury of Boadicea, that greatest of viragoes and first of 
British heroines. She reduced London to ashes, which Suetonius 
did not stay to sift ; but he waited the attack of Boadicea a little way 
out of town, and pitched his tent within a modern omnibus ride of 
the great metropolis. His fair antagonist drove after him in her 
chariot, with her two daughters, the Misses Boadicea, at her side, 
and addressed to her army some of those appeals on behalf of 
"a British female in distress," which have since been adopted by 
British dramatists. The valorous old vixen was, however, defeated; 
and rather than swallow the bitter pill which would have poisoned 
the remainder of her days, she took a single dose and terminated he r 
own existence. 

Suetonius soon returned with his suite to the Continent, without 
having finished the war ; for it was always a characteristic of the 
Britons, that they never would acknowledge they had had enough at 
the hands of an enemy. Some little time afterwards, we find Cerealis 
engaged in one of those attacks upon Britain which might be called 
serials, from their frequent repetition ; and subsequently, about the 

year 75 or 78, Julius Frontinus 
succeeded to the business from which 
so many before him had retired with 
very little profit. 

The general, however, who cemented 
the power of Borne — or, to speak 
figuratively, introduced the Boman 
cement among the Bricks or Britons 
— was Julius Agricola, the father-in- 
law of Tacitus, the historian, who has 
lost no opportunity of puffing most 
outrageously his undoubtedly merit- 
orious relative. 

Agricola certainly did considerable 
havoc in Britain. He sent the Scotch 
reeling over the Grampian Hills, and 
led the Caledonians a pretty dance. 
He ran up a kind of rampart between 
the Friths of Clyde and Forth, from 
which he could come forth at his leisure and complete the conquest 
of Caledonia. In the sixth year of his campaign, a.d. 83, he crossed 
the Frith of Forth, and came opposite to Fife, which was played 




Portrait of Julius Agricola. 



CnAP. II. J JULIUS AGRICOLA — HADRIAN — SEVERUS. 



9 



upon by the whole of his band with considerable energy. Having 
wintered in Fife, upon which he levied contributions to a pretty 
tune, he moved forward in tbe summer of the next year, a.d. 84, 
from Glen Devon to the foot of the Grampians. He here encoun- 
tered Galgacus and his host, who made a gallant resistance ; but 




The Emperor Scverus leads his Army against the Northern Barbarians. 



the Scottish chief was soon left to reckon without his host, for all his 
followers fled like lightning, and it has been said that their bolting 
came upon him like a thunderbolt. 

Agricola having thoroughly beaten the Britons — on the principle, 
perhaps, that there is nothing so impressible as wax— began to think 
of instructing them. He had given them a few lessons in war which 
they were not likely to forget, and he now thought of introducing 
among their chiefs a tincture of polite letters, commencing of course 
with the alphabet. The Britons finding it as easy as A, B, C, began 
to cultivate the rudiments of learning, for there is a spell in letters 
of which few can resist the influence. They assumed the toga, 
which, on account of the comfortable warmth of the material, they 
very quickly cottoned ; they plunged into baths, and threw them- 
selves into the capacious lap of luxury. 



10 COMIC HISTORY Of EKGLAKD. [BOOK I. 

For upwards of thirty years Britain remained tranquil, but in the 
reign of Hadrian, a.d. 120, the Caledonians, whose spirit had been 
"scotched, not killed," became exceedingly turbulent. Hadrian, 
who felt his weakness, went to the wall of Agricola,* which was 
rebuilt in order to protect the territory the Romans had acquired. 
Some years afterwards the power of the empire went into a decline, 
which caused a consumption at home of many of the troops that had 
been previously kept for the protection of foreign possessions. Britain 
took this opportunity of revolting, and in the year 207, the Emperor 
Severus, though far advanced in years and a martyr to the gout, 
determined to march in person against the barbarians. He had no 
sooner set his foot on English ground than his gout caused him to 
feel the greatest difficulties at every step, and having been no less 
than four years getting to York, he knocked up there, a.d. 211, and 
died in a dreadful hobble. Caracalla, son and successor to the late 
Emperor Severus, executed a surrender of land to the Caledonians 
for the sake of peace, and being desirous of administering to the 
effects of his lamented governor in Rome, left the island for ever. 

The history of Britain for the next seventy years may be easily 
written, for a blank page would tell all that is known respecting it. 
In the partnership reign of Dioclesian and Maximian, a.d. 288, "the 
land we live in " turns up again, under somewhat unfavourable circum- 
stances, for we find its coasts being ravaged about this time by Scandi- 
navian and Saxon pirates. Carausius, a sea captain, and either a 
Belgian or Briton by birth, was employed against the pirates, to whom, 
in the Baltic sound, he gave a sound thrashing. Instead, however, oi 
sending the plunder home to his employers, he pocketed the proceeds 
of his own victories, and the Emperors, growing jealous of his power, 
sent instructions to have him slain at the earliest convenience. The 
wily sailor, however, fled to Britain, where he planted his standard, 
and where the tar, claiming the natives as his "messmates," induced 
them to join him in the mess he had got into. The Roman eagles 
were put to flight, and both wings of the imperial army exhibited the 
white feather. Peace with Carausius was purchased by conceding to 
him the government of Britain and Boulogne, with the proud title of 
Emperor. 

The assumption of the rank of Emperor of Boulogne seems to us 
about as absurd as usurping the throne of Broadstairs, or putting 
on the imperial purple at Heme Bay ; but Carausius having been 
originally a mere pirate, was justly proud of his new dignity. Having 
swept the seas, he commenced scouring the country, and his victories 
were celebrated by a day's chairing, at which he assisted as the 
principal figure in a procession of unexampled pomp and pageantry. 
The throne, however, is not an easy fauteuil, and Carausius had 
scarcely had time to throw himself back in an attitude of repose, 
when he was murdered at Eboracum (York) (a.d. 297), by one 

* The remains of this wall are still in existence, to furnish food for the Archeolc- 
gians who occasionally feast on the bricks, which have become venerable with the 
crust of apes. A morning roll among the mounds in the neighbourhood where this 
famous wall once existed, is considered a most delicate repast to the antiquarian. 



flHA*. 11.) BfilfAlN A i>RE\? fO ^El6HB6triiI^G JptftAflES. 11 

Alectus, his confidential friend and minister. In accordance with 
the custom of the period, that the murderer should succeed his 
victim, Alectus ruled in Britain until he, in his turn, was slain at the 
instigation of Constantius Chlorus, who became master of the island. 
That individual died at York (a.d. 306), where his son Constantine, 
afterwards called the Great, commenced his reign, which was a short 
and not a particularly merry one, for after experiencing several 
reverses in the North, he quitted the island, which, until his death in 
337, once more enjoyed tranquillity. 

Eome, which had so long been mighty, was like a cheese in the 
same condition, rapidly going to decay, and she found it necessary to 
practise what has been termed "the noble art of self-defence," which 
is admitted on all hands to be the first law of Nature. Britain they 
regarded as a province, which it was not their province to look after. 
It was consequently left as pickings for the Picts,* nor did it come 
off scot free from the Scots, who were a tribe of Celtae from Ireland, 
and who consequently must be regarded as a mixed race of Gallo- 
Hibernian Caledonians. They had, in fact, been Irishmen before 
they had been Scotchmen, and Frenchmen previous to either. Such 
were the translations that occurred even at that early period in the 
greatest drama of all — the drama of history. 

Britain continued for years suspended like a white hart — a simile 
justified by its constant trepidation and alarm — with which the 
Eomans and others might enjoy an occasional game at bob-cherry, 
Maximus (a.d. 382) made a successful bite at it, but turning aside in 
search of the fruits of ambition elsewhere, the Scots and Picts again 
began nibbling at the Bigaroon that had been the subject of so much 
snappishness. 

The Britons being shortly afterwards left once more to themselves, 
elected Marcus as their sovereign (a.d. 407) ; but monarchs in those 
days were set up like the king of skittles, only to be knocked down 
again. Marcus was accordingly bowled out of existence by those who 
had raised him ; and one, Gratian, having succeeded to the post of 
royal ninepin, was in four months as dead as the article to which we 
have chosen to compare him. After a few more similar ups and 
downs, the Eomans, about the year 420, nearly five centuries after 
Caesar's first invasion, finally cried quits with the Britons by aban- 
doning the island. 

In pursuing his labours over the few ensuing years, the author 
would be obliged to grope in the dark ; but history is not a game at 
blind-man's-buff, and we will never condescend to make it so. It is 
true, that with the handkerchief of obscurity bandaging our eyes, we 
might turn round in a state of rigmarole, and catch what we can ; 
but as it would be mere guesswork by which we could describe the 
object of which we should happen to lay hold, we will not attempt 
the experiment. 

* " The Picts," says Dr. Henry, " wore so called from Pictich, a plunderer, and not 
from picti, painted." History, in assigning the latter origin to their name, lias failed 
to exhibit them in their true colours. 



12 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND [BOOK I. 

It is unquestionable that Britain was a prey to dissensions at 
home and ravages from abroad, while every kind of faction — except 
satisfaction— was rife within the island. 

Such was the misery of the inhabitants, that they published a 
pamphlet called "The Groans of the Britons " (a.d. 441), in which 
they invited iEtius, the Roman consul, to come over and turn out 
the barbarians, between whom and the sea, the islanders were tossed 
like a shuttlecock knocked about by a pair of battledores. iEtius, in 
consequence of previous engagements with Attila and others, was 
compelled to decline the invitation, and the Britons therefore had a 
series of routs, which were unattended by the Roman cohorts. 

The southern part of the island was now torn between a Roman 
faction under Aurelius Ambrosius, and a British or " country party," 
at the head of which was Vortigern. The latter is said to have 
called in the Saxons ; and it is certain that (a.d. 449) he hailed the 
two brothers Hengist and Horsa,* who were cruising as Saxon 
pirates in the British Channel. These individuals being ready for 
any desperate job, accepted the invitation of Vortigern, to pass some 
time with him in the Isle of Thanet. They were received as guests 
by the people of Sandwich, who would as soon have thought of 
quarrelling with their bread and butter as with the friends of the 
gallant Vortigern. From this date commences the Saxon period of 
the history of Britain. 



CHAPTER THE THIRD. 



THE SAXONS THE HEPTARCHY. 

In obedience to custom, the etymologists have been busy with the 
word Saxon, which they have derived from seax, a sword, and we are 
left to draw the inference that the Saxons were very sharp blades ; a 
presumption thafc is fully sustained by their fierce and warlike 
character. Their chief weapons were a battleaxe and a hammer, in 
the use of which they were so adroit that they could always hit the 
right nail upon the head, when occasion required. Their shipping 
had been formerly exceedingly crazy, and indeed the crews must 
have been crazy to have trusted themselves in such fragile vessels. 
The bottoms of the boats were of very light timber, and the sides 
consisted of wicker, so that the fleet must have combined the strength 
of the washing-tub with the elegant lightness of the clothes' basket. 
Like their neighbours the wise men of Gotham, or Gotha, who went 
to sea in a bowl, the Saxons had not scrupled to commit themselves 

* Horsa, means a horse ; and the white horse, cve7i now, appears as the ensign of 
Kent, as it once did on the shield of the Saxons. It is probable that when Horsa 
came to London, he may have put up somewhere near the present site of the Whito 
Horse Cellar. Vide " Palgrave's Rise and Progress of the English Commonwealth." 



CHAF. III.] 



THE SAXONS — THE HEPTARCHY. 



13 



to the mercy of the waves, in these unsubstantial cockle-shells. The 
boatbuilders, however, soon took rapid strides, and improved their 
craft by mechanical cunning. 



s^\ 




Rowena and Vortigern. 

Another fog now comes over the historian, but the gas of sagacity 
is very useful in dispelling the clouds of obscurity. It is said that 
Hengist gave an evening party to Vortigern, who fell in love with 
Kowena, the daughter of his host — a sad flirt, who, throwing herself 
on her knee, presented the wine-cup to the king, wishing him, in a 
neat speech, all health and happiness. Vortigern's head was com- 
pletely turned by the beauty of Miss Eowena Hengist, and the strength 
of the beverage she had so bewitchingly offered him. 

A story is also told of a Saxon soiree having been given by Hengist to 
the Britons, to which the host and his countrymen came, with short 
swords or knives concealed in their hose, and at a given signal drew 
their weapons upon their unsuspecting guests. Many historians 
have doubted this dreadful tale, and it certainly is scarcely credible 
that the Saxons should have been able to conceal in their stockings 
the short swords or carving-knives, which must have been very incon- 
venient to their calves. Stonehenge is the place at which this cruel 
act of the hard-hearted and stony Hengist is reported to have 
occurred ; and as antiquarians are always more particular about 
dates when they are most likely to be wrong, the 1st of May has 
been fixed upon as the very day on which this horrible reunion was 
given. It has been alleged, that Vortigern, in order to marry Eowena, 
settled Kent upon Hengist ; but it is much more probable that Hengist 
settled himself upon Kent without the intervention of any formality. 



14 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 1. 

It is certain that he became King of the County, to which he affixed 
Middlesex, Essex, and a part of Surrey; so that, as sovereigns went 
in those early days, he could scarcely be called a petty potentate. 
The success of Hengist induced several of his countrymen, after his 
death, to attempt to walk in his shoes ; but it has been well and 
wisely said, that in following the footsteps of a great man an equally 
capacious understanding is requisite. 

The Saxons who tried this experiment were divided into Saxons 
proper, Angles, and Jutes, who all passed under the common appella- 
tion of Angles and Saxons. The word Angles was peculiarly 
appropriate to a people so naturally sharp, and the whole science of 
mathematics can give us no angles so acute as those who figured in 
the early pages of our history. 

In the year 447, Ella the Saxon landed in Sussex with his three 
sons, and drove the Britons into a forest one hundred and twenty 
miles long and thirty broad, according to the old writers, but in our 
opinion just about as broad as it was long, for otherwise there could 
have been no room for it in the place where the old writers have 
planted it. Ella, however, succeeded in clutching a very respectable 
slice, which was called the kingdom of South Saxony, which included 
Surrey, Sussex, and the New Forest ; while another invading firm, 
under the title of Cerdic and Son, started a small vanquishing business 
in the West, and by conquering Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, 
founded the kingdom of Wessex. Cerdic was considerably harassed 
by King Arthur of fabulous fame, whose valour is reported to have 
been such, that he fought twelve battles with the Saxons, and was 
three times married. His first and third wives were carried awaj r from 
him, but on the principle that no news is good news, the historians tell 
us that as there are no records of his second consort, his alliance with 
her may perhaps have been a happy one. The third and last of his 
spouses ran off with his nephew Mordred, and the enraged monarch 
having met his ungrateful kinsman in battle, they engaged each 
other with such fury, that, like the Kilkenny cats, they slew one 
another. 

About the year 527, Ereenwine landed on the Essex flats, which 
he had no trouble in reducing, for he found them already on a very 
low level. In 547, Ida, with a host of Angles, began fishing for 
dominion off Flamborough head, where he effected a landing. He 
however settled on a small wild space between the Tyne and the 
Tees, a tiny possession, in which he was much teased by the beasts 
of the forest, for the place having been abandoned, Nature had 
established a Zoological Society of her own in this locality. The 
kingdom thus formed was called Bernicia, and as the place was full 
of wild animals, it is not improbable that the British Lion may have 
originally come from the place alluded to. 

Ella, another Saxon prince, defeated Lancashire and York, taking 
the name of King of the Deiri, and causing the inhabitants to lick the 
dust, which was the only way they could find of repaying the licking 
they had received from their conqueror. Ethelred, the grandson of 
Ida, having married the daughter of Ella, began to cement the union 



CRAP. III.] 



THE SAXONS — THE HEP17»:'.CH*. 



15 



in the old-established way, by robbing his wife's relations of all their 
property. He seized on the kingdom of his brother-in-law, and added 
it to his own, uniting the petty monarchies of Deiri and Bernicia into 
the single sovereignty of Northumberland. 



'Man 3 




Ida quitting his Kingdom. 



Such were the several kingdoms which formed the Heptarchy. 
Arithmeticians will probably tell us that seven into one will never 
go ; but into one the seven did eventually go by a process that will 
be shown in the ensuing chapter. 



1G 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



(BOOK t 



CHAPTER THE FOURTH. 



THK UNION OF THE HEPTARCHY UNDER EGBERT. 




F it be a sound philosophical 
truth, that two of a trade can 
never agree, we may take it for 
granted that, d fortiori, seven in 
the same business will be per- 
petually quarrelling. Such was 
speedily the case with the 
Saxon princes ; and it is not 
improbable that the disturbed 
condition, familiarly known as a 
state of sixes and sevens, may 
have derived its title from the 
turmoils of the seven Saxon 
sovereigns, during the existence 
of the Heptarchy. Nothing can 
exceed the entanglement into 
which the thread of history was 
thrown by the battles and 
skirmishes of these princes. 
The endeavour to lay hold of 
the thread would be as troublesome as the process of looking for a 
needle,* not merely in a bottle of hay, but in the very bosom of a 
haystack. Let us, however, apply the magnet of industry, and test the 
alleged fidelity of the needle to the pole by attempting to implant in 
the head of the reader a few of the points that seem best adapted 
for striking him. 

We will take a run through the whole country as it was then 
divided, and will borrow from the storehouse of tradition the cele- 
brated pair of seven-leagued boots, for the purpose of a scamper 
through the seven kingdoms of the Heptarchy. 

We will first drop in upon Kent, whose founder, Hengist, had no 
worthy successor till the time of Ethclbcrt. This individual acted on 
the principle of give and take, for he was always taking what he could, 
and giving battle. He seated himself by force on the throne of Mercia, 
into which he carried his arms, as if the throne of Kent had not 
afforded him sufficient elbow-room. This, however, he resigned to 
Webba, the rightful heir: but poor Webba {query Webber) was kept 
like a fly in a spider's web, as a tributary prince to the artful Ethel- 
bert. This monarch's reign derived, however, its real glory from the 
introduction of Christianity and the destruction of many Saxon 



* " A needle in a bottle of hay," is an old English phrase, of which we cannot 
trace the origin. Bottled hay must have been sad dry stuff, but it is possible the 
\\ isdom of our ancestors may have induced them to bottle their grass as we in the 
present day bottle our gooseberries. 



OHAP 



IV.] 



UNION OF THE HEPTARCHY UNDER EGBERT. 



17 



superstitions. He kept up a friendly correspondence with Gregory, 
the punster pope, and author of the celebrated jeu do mot on the word 
Angli, in the Roman market-place.* 

Ethelbert died in 616, having been not only king of Kent, but 
having filled the office of Bretwalda, a name given to the most 
influential — or, as we should call him, the president or chairman — of 
the sovereigns of the Heptarchy. His son, Eadbald, who succeeded, 
failed in supporting the fame of his father. It would be useless to 
pursue the catalogue of Saxons who continued mounting and dis- 
mounting the throne of Kent — one being no sooner down than 
another came on — in rapid succession. It was Egbert, king of 




" Non Angli sed Angeli forent si fuissent Christian!." 

Wessex, who, in the year 723, had the art to seat himself on all the 
seven thrones at once ; an achievement which, considering the 
ordinary fate of one who attempts to preserve his balance upon two 
stools, has fairly earned the admiration of posterity. 

Let us now take a skip into Northumberland — formed by Ethelred 

* The pun in question is almost too venerable for repetition, but we insert it in a 
note, as no History of England seems to be complete without it. The pope, on seeing 
the British children exposed for sale in the market-place at Rone, said they would 
not be Angles but Angels if they had been Christians. Kon Angli sed Angeli 
forent siftdssant Christ iani. 



lb COMIC HISTOIiY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. 

in the manner we have already alluded to, out of the two kingdoms 
of Deiri and Bernicia— which, though not enough for two, constituted 
for one a very respectable sovereignty. The crown of Northumber- 
land seems to have been at the disposal of any one who thought it 
worth his while to go and take it ; provided he was prepared to meet 
any little objections of the owner by making away with him. In this 
manner, Osred received his quietus from Kenred, a kinsman, who was. 
killed in his turn by another of the family : and, after a long series 
of assassinations, the people quietly submitted to the yoke of Egbert. 
The kingdom of East Anglia presents the same rapid panorama of 
murders which settled the succession to all the Saxon thrones ; and 
Mercia, comprising the midland counties, furnishes all the materials 
for a melodrama. Offa, one of its most celebrated kings, had a 
daughter, Elfrida, to whom Ethelbert, the sovereign of the East 
Angles, had made honourable proposals, and had been invited to 
celebrate his nuptials at Hereford. In the midst of the festivities 
Offa asked Ethelbert into a back room, in which the latter had 
scarcely taken a chair when his head was unceremoniously removed 
horn his shoulders by the father of his intended. 

Offa having extinguished the royal family of East Anglia, by 
snuffing out the chief, took possession of the kingdom. In order to 
expiate his crime he made friends with the pope, and exacted a penny 
from.- every house possessed of thirty pence, or half-a-crown a year, 
which he sent as a proof of penitence to the Eoman pontiff. Though 
at first intended by Offa as an offering, it was afterwards claimed as 
a tribute, under the name of Peter's Pence, which were exacted from 
the people; and the custom may perhaps have originated the dis- 
honourable practice of robbing Paul for the purpose of paying Peter. 

After the usual amount of slaughter, one Wiglaff mounted the 
throne, which was in a fearfully rickety condition. So unstable was 
this undesirable piece of Saxon upholstery that Wiglaff had no 
sooner sat down upon it than it gave way with a tremendous crash, 
and fell into the hands of Egbert, who was always ready to seize the 
remaining stock of royalty that happened to be left to an unfortunate 
sovereign on the eve of an alarming sacrifice. 

The kingdom of Essex can boast of little worthy of narration, and 
in looking through the Venerable Bede, we find a string of names that 
are wholly devoid of interest. 

The history of Sussex is still more obscure, and we hasten to 
Wessex, where we find. Brihtric, or Beortric, sitting in the regal arm- 
chair that Egbert had a better right to occupy. The latter fled to the 
court of Offa, king of Mercia, to whom the former sent a message, 
requesting that Egbert's head might be brought back by return, with 
one of Offa's daughters, whom Beortric proposed to marry. Tho 
young lady was sent as per invoice, for she was rather a burden on 
the Mercian court ; but Egbert's head, being still in use, was not 
duly forwarded. 

Feeling that his life was a toss up, and that he might lose by heads 
coining down, Egbert wisely repaired to the court of the Emperor 
(.'Iwlouiagne. There he acquired, many accomplishments, took, lesson? 



CHAI\ IV.] 



DEATH OF BEORTRIC. 



19 



in fencing, and received that celebrated French polish of which it 
may be fairly said in the language of criticism, that " it ought to be 
found on every gentleman's table." 

Mrs. Beortric managed to poison her husband by a draft not 
intended for his acceptance, and presented by mistake, which' caused 
a vacancy in the throne of Wessex. Egbert having embraced the 
opportunity, was embraced by the people, who received him with 
open arms, on his arrival from France, and hailed him as rightful heir 
to the Wessexian crown, which he had never been able to get out of 
his head, or on to his head, until the present favourable juncture. In 
a few years he got into hostilities with the Mercians, who being, as 
we are told by the chroniclers, "fat, corpulent, and short-winded," 
soon got the worst of it. The lean and active troops of Egbert pre- 
vailed over the opposing cohorts, who were at once podgy and 
powerless. As they advanced to the charge, they were met by the 
blows of the enemy, and as "it is an ill wind that blows nobody 
good," so the very ill wind of the Mercians made good for the 
soldiers of Egbert, who were completely victorious. 




Battle between the Mercians and Egbert.— Cotton MS. 

Mercia was now subjugated ; Kent and Essex were soon subdued ; 
the East Angles claimed protection ; Northumberland submitted ; 
Sussex had for some time been swamped ; and Wessex belonged to 
Egbert by right of succession. Thus, about four hundred years after 
the arrival of the Saxons, the Heptarchy was dissolved, in the year 
827, after having been in hot water for centuries. It was only when 
the spirit of Egbert was thrown in, that the hot water became a 
ptrong and wholesome compound. 



C— 8 



20 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I. 



CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 



THE DANES — ALFRED. 



CARCELY bad unanimity begun 
to prevail in England, when the 
country was invaded by the 
Danes, whose desperate valour 
there was no disdaining. Some 
of them, in the year 832, landed 
on the coast, committed a series 
of ravages, and escaped to their 
ships without being taken into 
custody. Egbert encountered 
them on one occasion at Char- 
mouth, in Dorsetshire, but having 
lost two bishops — who, by the 
bye, had no business in a fight — 
be was glad to make the best of 
his way home again. 

The Danes, or Northmen, 
having visited Cornwall, entered 
into an alliance with some of the 
Briks, or Britons, of the neigh- 
bourhood, and marched into 
Devonshire ; but Egbert, collect- 
ing the cream of the Devonshire 
youth, poured it down upon the 
heads of his enemies. According 
to some historians, Egbert met 
with considerable resistance, and it has even been said that tho 
Devonshire cream experienced a severe clouting. It is certainly 
sufficient to make the milk of human kindness curdle in the veins 
when we read the various recitals of Danish ferocity. Egbert, how- 
ever, was successful at the battle of Hengsdown Hill, where many 
were put to the sword, by the sword being put to them, in the most 
unscrupulous manner. This was the last grand military drama in 
which Egbert represented the hero. He died in 836, after a long 
reign, which had been one continued shower of prosperity. 

Ethehvolf, the eldest son of Egbert, now came to the throne, but 
misunderstanding the maxim, Divide et impera, he began to divide 
his kingdom, as the best means of ruling it, and gave a slice consist- 
ing of Kent and its dependencies to his son Athelstane. 

The Scandinavian pirates having no longer an opponent like Egbert 
ravaged Wessex ; sailed up the Thames, which, if they could, they 
would have set on fire ; gave Canterbury, Rochester, and London a 
severe dose, in the shape of pillage ; and got into the heart of Surrey, 
which lost all heart on the approach of the enemy. Ethehvolf, how- 




Au 111 unlimited Letter. 



CHAP. V.J THE DANES — ALFRED. 2J 

ever, taking with him his second son Ethelbald, met them at Okely — 
probably in the neighbourhood of Oakley Street — and at a place still 
retaining the name of the New Cut, made a fearful incision into the 
ranks of the enemy. The Danes retired to settle in the isle of Thanet, 
to repose after the settling they had received in Surrey, at the hands ot 
the Saxons. Notwithstanding the state of his kingdom, Ethelwolf 
found time for an Italian tour, and taking with him his fourth son, 
Alfred the Great — then Alfred the Little, for he was a child of six — 
started to Eome, on that very vague pretext, a pilgrimage. He spent 
a large sum of money abroad, gave the Pope an annuity for himself, 
and another to trim the lamps of St. Peter and St. Paul, which has 
given rise to the celebrated jeu de mot that, "instead of roaming 
about and getting rid of his cash in trimming foreign lamps, he ought 
to have remained at home for the purpose of trimming his enemies." 

On his return through France, he fell in love with Judith, the 
daughter of Charles the Bald, the king of the Pranks, who probably 
gave a good fortune to the bride, for Charles being known as the bald, 
must of course have been without any heir apparent. When Ethel- 
wolf arrived at home with his new wife, he found his three sons, or 
as he had been in the habit of calling them, " the boys," — indignant 
at the marriage of their governor. According to some historians and 
chroniclers, Osburgha, his first wife, was not dead, but had been 
simply "put away" to make room for Judith. It certainly was a 
practice of the kings in the middle age, and particularly if they hap- 
pened to be middle-aged kings, to " put away " an old wife ; but the 
real difficulty must have been where on earth to put her. If Osburgha 
consented quietly to be laid upon the shelf, she must have differed 
from her sex in general. 

Athelstane being dead, Ethelbald was now the king's eldest son, 
and had made every arrangement for a fight with his own father for 
the throne, when the old gentleman thought it better to divide his 
crown than run the risk of getting it cracked in battle. " Let us not 
split each other's heads, my son," he affectingly exclaimed, "but 
rather let us split the difference." Ethelbald immediately cried halves 
when he found his father disposed to cry quarter, and after a short 
debate they came to a division. The undutiful son got for himself the 
richest portion of the kingdom of Wessex, leaving his unfortunate 
sire to sigh over the eastern part, which was the poorest moiety of the 
royal property. The ousted Ethelwolf did not survive more than two 
years the change which had made him little better than half-a-sove- 
reign, for he died in 857, and was succeeded by his son Ethelbald. 
This person was, to use an old simile, as full of mischief "as an egg 
is full of meat," and indeed somewhat fuller, for we never yet found 
a piece of beef, mutton, or veal, in the whole course of our oval ex- 
perience. Ethelbald, however, reigned only two years, having first 
married and subsequently divorced his father's widow Judith, whose 
venerable parent Charles the Bald, was happily indebted to his bald- 
ness for being spared the misery of having his grey hairs brought 
down in sorrow to the grave by the misfortunes of his daughter. This 
young lady, for she was still young in spite of her two marriages, her 



22 COMIC HtSTOlH? OF ENGLAND. [l?OOK I. 

widowhood, and divorce, had retired to a convent near Paris, when 
a gentleman of the name of Baldwin, belonging to an old standard 
family, ran away with her. He was threatened with excom- 
munication by the young lady's father, but treating the menaces 
of Charles the Bald as so much balderdash, Mr. Baldwin sent 
a herald to the Pope, who allowed the marriage to be legally 
solemnised. 

We have given a few lines to Judith because, by her last marriage, 
she gave a most illustrious line to us ; for her son having married the 
youngest daughter of Alfred the Great, was the ancestor of Maud, 
the wife of William the Conqueror. 

Ethelbald was succeeded by Ethelbert, whose reign, though it lasted 
only five years, may be compared to a rain of cats and dogs, for he was 
constantly engaged in quarrelling. The Danes completely sacked and 
ransacked Winchester, causing Ethelbert to exclaim, with a melan- 
choly smile, to one of his courtiers, " This is indeed the bitterest cup 
of sack I ever tasted." He died in 866 or 867, and was succeeded by 
his brother Ethelred, who found matters arrived at such a pitch, that 
he fought nine pitched battles with the Danes in less than a twelve- 
month. He died in the year 871, of severe wounds, and the crown 
fell from his head on to that of his younger brother Alfred. The regal 
diadem was sadly tarnished when it came to the young king, who 
resolved that it should not long continue to lack lacker ; and by his 
glorious deeds he soon restored, the polish that had been rubbed off 
by repeated leathering. Ho had scarcely time to sit down upon the 
throne when he was called into the field to fulfil a very particular en- 
gagement with the Danes at Wilton. They were compelled to stipu- 
late for a safe retreat, and went up to London for the winter, where 
they so harassed Burrhed the king of Mercia, in whose dominions 
London was situated, that the poor fellow ran down the steps of his 
throne, left his sceptre in the regal hall, and, repairing to Eome, 
finished his days in a cloister. 

The Danes still continued the awful business of dyeing and scouring, 
for they scoured the country round, and dyed it with the blood of the 
inhabitants. Alfred, finding himself in the most terrible straits, 
conceived the idea of getting out of the straits by means of 
ships, of which he collected a few, and for a time he went on 
swimmingly. 

lie taught Britannia her first lesson in ruling the waves, by 
destroying the fleet of Guthrum the Dane, who had promised to 
make his exit from the kingdom on a previous defeat, but by a dis- 
graceful quibble he had, instead of making his exit, retired to Exeter. 
From this place he now retreated, and took up his quarters at 
Gloucester, while Alfred, it being now about Christmas time, had 
repaired to spend the holidays at Chippenham. It was on Twelfth- 
night, which the Saxons were celebrating no doubt with cake and 
wine, when a loud knocking was heard at the gate, and on some one 
going to answer the door, Guthrum and his Danes rushed in with 
overwhelming celerity. Alfred, who had been probably favouring 
the company with a song — for he was fond of minstrelsy — made an 



CHAP. V.] 



CUTMltJM THE DANE. 



23 



involuntary shake on hearing the news, and ran off, followed by a 
small band, in an allegro movement, which almost amounted to a 
galop. 

The Saxon monarch finding himself deserted by his coward 
subjects, and without an army, broke up his establishment, dismissed 
every one of his servants, and, exchanging his regal trappings for a 
hag of old clothes, went about the country in various disguises. He 
had taken refuge as a peasant in the hut of a swineherd or pig-driver, 
whose wife had put some cakes on the lire to toast, and had 
requested Alfred to turn them while she was otherwise employed in 
trying to turn a penny 




Guthrum pays an Evening Visit to Alfred. 

His Majesty being bent upon his bow, never thought of the cakes, 
which were burnt up to a cinder, and the old woman, looking as 
black as the cakes themselves, taunted the king with the smallnesa 
of the care ho took, and the largeness of his appetite. " You can cat 
them fast enough," she exclaimed, " and I think you might have 



24 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [lJOOK 1. 

given the cakes a turn."* " I acknowledge my fault," replied Alfred, 
" for you and your husband have done me a good turn, and one good 
turn, I am well aware, deserves another." 

The monarch retired to a swamp, which he called (Ethelingay — ■ 
now Athelney — or the Isle of Nobles, and some of his retainers, who 
stuck to their sovereign through thick and thin, joined him in the 
morasses and marshes he had selected for his residence. Alfred did 
not despair, though in the middle of a swamp he had no good ground 
for hope, until he heard that Hubba, the Dane, after making a 
hubbub in Wales, had been killed by a sudden sally in an alley near 
the mouth of the Tau, in Devonshire. Alfred, on this intelligence, 
left his retreat, and having recourse to his old clothes bag, disguised 
himself as the " Wandering Minstrel," in which character he made a 
very successful appearance at the camp of Guthrum. The jokes of 
Alfred, though they would sound very old Joe Millerisms in the 
present day, were quite new at that remote period, and the Danes 
were constantly in fits ; so that the Saxon king was preparing, by 
splitting their sides, to eventually break up the ranks of his enemy. 
He could also sing a capital song, which with his comic recitations, 
conundrums, and charades, rendered him a general favourite ; and 
his vocal powers may be said to have been instrumental to the 
accomplishment of his object. 

Having returned to his friends, he led them forth against Guthrum, 
who retreated to a fortified position with a handful of men, and 
Alfred, by a close blockade, took care not to let the handful of men 
slip through his fingers. 

Guthrum, tired of the raps on the knuckles he had received, threw 
himself on the kind indulgence of a British public, and appeared 
before the Saxon king in the character of an apologist. Alfred's 
motto was, "Forget and Forgive;" but he wisely insisted on the 
Danes embracing Christianity, knowing that if their conversion 
should be sincere, they would never be guilty of any further atrocities. 
He stood godfather himself to Guthrum, who adopted the old family 
name of Athelstane, and all animosities were forgotten in the 
festivities of a general christening. A partition of the kingdom took 
place, and Alfred gave a good share, including all the east side of the 
island, to his new godson. The Danes settled tranquilly in their new 
possessions, though in the very next year (879), a small party sailed 
up the Thames and landed on the shores of Fulham ; but finding 
the hardy sons of that suburban coast in a posture of defence, the 
Northmen took to their heels, or rather to their keels, by returning 
to their vessels. The would-be invaders repaired to Ghent to 
try their luck in the Low Countries, for which their ungentle- 
manly conduct in violating their treaties most peculiarly fitted 
them. 

» Though all the historians have given this anecdote, they vary in the words 
attributed to the old woman, and make no allusion to the reply of Alfred. So 
accomplished a monarch would hardly have found nothing at all to say for himself; 
and though he did not turn the cakes, he most probably turned the conversation iu 
the manner we have described. 



CHAP. V.] THE DANES RAVAGE FRANCE. 25 

Alfred employed the period of peace in building and In law, both 
of which are generally ruinous, but which were exceedingly profitable 
in his judicious hands. He restored London, over which he placed 
his son-in-law, Ethelred, as Earl Eolderman or Alderman, and he 
established a regular militia all over the country, who, if they 
resembled the militia of modern times, must have kept away the 
invaders by placing them in the position familiarly known as " more 
frightened than hurt." 

In the year 893, however, the Danes under Hasting, having ravaged 
all France, and eaten up every morsel of food they could find in that 
country, were compelled to come over to England in search of a meal. 
A portion of the invaders in two hundred and fifty ships, landed near 
Romney Marsh, at a river called Limine, and there being no one 
to oppose them in Limine, they proceeded to Appledore. Hasting, 
with eighty sail, took Milton ; but he was soon routed out, and 
cutting across the Thames, he removed to Banfleet, which was 
only " over the way ; " where he was broken in upon by Alderman 
Ethelred at the head of some London citizens. The cockney cohorts 
seized the wife and two sons of Hasting, who would have been 
killed but for the magnanimity of Alfred, though it has been hinted 
that in sending them back to his foe, the Saxon king calculated that 
as women and children are only in the way when business is going 
forward, their presence might add to the embarrassments of the 
Danish chieftain. That such was really the case, may be gleaned 
from the fact that on a subsequent occasion Hasting and his followers 
were compelled to leave their wives and families behind them in the 
river Lea, into which the Danish fleet had sailed when Alfred 
ingeniously drew all the water off, and left the enemy literally 
aground. This manoeuvre was accomplished partially by digging 
three channels from the Lea to the Thames, and partially by the 
removal of the water in buckets, though the bucket got very 
frequently kicked by those engaged in this perilous enterprise. 

The river Lea would have been sufficiently deep for the purposes 
of Hasting had not Alfred been deeper still, and the fleet, which had 
been the floating capital of the Danes, became a deposit in the banks 
for the benefit of the Saxons. In the spring of 897 Hasting quitted 
England ; but several pirates remained ; and two ships being taken 
at the Isle of Wight, Alfred, on being asked what should be done 
with the crews, exclaimed, "Oh! they may go and be hanged at 
Winchester ! " The king's orders having been taken literally, the 
marauders were carried to Winchester, and hanged accordingly. 

Alfred, having tranquillised the country, died in the year 901, after 
a glorious reign of nearly thirty years, and is known to this day as 
Alfred the Great, an epithet which has never yet been earned by 
one of his successors. 

The character of this prince seems to have been as near perfection 
as possible. His reputation as a sage has not been injured by time, 
nor has the mist of ages obscured the brightness of his military glory. 
He w r as a lover of literature, and a constant reader of every magazine 
of knowledge that he could lay his hands upon. An anecdote is told 



2G COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 1. 

of his mother, Osburgha, having bought a book of Saxon poetry, 
illustrated according to the taste of our own times, with numerous 
drawings. Alfred and his brothers were all exclaiming, " Oh give it 
me ! " with infantine eagerness, when his parent hit on the expedient 
of promising that he who could read it first should receive it as a 
present. Alfred, proceeding on the modern principle of acquiring 
" Spanish without a Master," and " French comparatively in no time," 
succeeded in picking up Anglo-Saxon in six self-taught lessons. He 
accordingly won the book, which was, no doubt, of a nature well 
calculated to "repay perusal." 

Nor were war and literature the only pursuits in which Alfred in- 
dulged ; but he added the mechanical arts to his other accomplish- 
ments. The sun-dial was probably known to Alfred ; but that acute 
prince soon saw, or, rather, found from not seeing, that a sun-dial in 
the dark was worse than useless. Not content with being always 
alive to the time of day, he became desirous of knowing the time 
of night, and used to burn candles of a certain length with notches in 
them to mark the hours.* These were indeed melting moments, but 
the wind often blew the candles out, or caused them to burn irregu- 
larly. Sometimes they would get very long wicks, and, if every one 
had gone to bed, no one being up to snuff, might render the long 
wicks rather dangerous. In this dilemma he asked himself what 
could be done, and his friend Asser, the monk, having said half 
sportively, " Ah ! you are on the horns of a dilemma," Alfred enthusi- 
astically replied, " I have it ; yes ; I will turn the horns to my own 
advantage, and make a horn lanthorn." Thus, to make use of a 
figure of a recent writer, Alfred never found himself in a difficulty 
without, somehow or other, making light of it. 

He founded the navy, and, besides being the architect of his own 
fortunes, he studied architecture for the benefit of his subjects, for 
he caused so many houses to be erected, that during his reign the 
country seemed to be let out on one long building lease. He revised the 
laws, and his system of police was so good, that it has been said 
any one might have hung out jewels on the highway without any fear 
of their being stolen. Much, however, depends on the kind of 
jewellery then in use, for some future historian may say of the 
present generation, that such was its honesty, precious stones, — 
that is to say, precious large stones, — might be left in the streets 
without any one offering to take them up and walk away with 
them. 

Alfred gave encouragement not only to native, but to foreign talent, 
and sent out Swithelm, bishop of Sherburn, to India, by what is now 
called the overland journey, and the good bishop was therefore the 
original Indian male — or Saxon Waghorn. He brought from India 
several gems, and a quantity of pepper — the gems being generously 

* The practice <>[ telling the time by burning candles was ingenious, but could 
not have been always convenient. Jt. must have been very awkward when a thief got 
into mil' of the candles, thus exposing time to another thief besides procrastination. 
After Alfred's invention of the lanthorn, it might have been worn as a watch, in the 
game manner as the modern policeman wears the bull's-eye. 



CHAP. VI.] 



DEATH OP ALFRED. 



27 



given by Alfred tc his friends, and the pepper freely bestowed on his 
enemies. 

He died on the 26th of October, 901, in the fifty-third year of his 
age, and thirtieth of his reign, having fought in person fifty-six times ; 
so that his life must have been one continued round of sparring with 
one or other of his enemies. All the chroniclers and historians have 
agreed in pronouncing unqualified praise upon Alfred ; and unless 
puffing had reached a perfection, and acquired an effrontery which it 
lias scarcely shown in the present day, he must be considered a 
paragon of perfection who never yet had a parallel. It is certain we 
have had but one Alfred, from the Saxon period to the present ; but 
we have now a prospect of another, who, let us hope, may evince, at 
some future time, something more than a merely nominal resemblance 
to him who has been the subject of this somewhat lengthy chapter. 



CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 



FROM KING EDWARD THE ELDER TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST. 

N the death of Alfred, his second son, 
Edward, took possession of the throne, 
when he was served with a notice of 
ejectment by his cousin Ethelwald. 
Preparations were made for com- 
mencing and defending an action at 
Wimburn, when Ethelwald, intimida- 
ted by the strength of his opponent, 
declined to go on with the proceedings, 
and judgment, as in case of a nonsuit, 
was claimed on Edward's behalf. 
Subsequently, however, Ethelwald 
moved, apparently with a view to a 
new trial, towards Bury, where somt 
of the Kentish men had ventured ; 
and an action having come off, he in- 
curred very heavy damage, which 
ended in his paying the costs of the day witli his own existence. 
Edward derived much aid from Ethelfleda, a sister, who acted as a 
sister, by assisting him in his wars against his enemies. This ener- 
getic specimen of the British female inherited all the spirit of her 
father, as well as his mantle, which we find in looking into our own 
Mackintosh.* She is called "The Lady of Mercia " by the old 
chroniclers ; but as she was always foremost in a fight, there seems 
something slyly satirical in giving the name of lady to a person of tho 




• Sir James Mackintosh's " History of England," Vol. I. chap, ii., p. 49. 



28 COMIC HISTORY OF EKGLA^D. [liOOK t. 

roost fearfully unladylike propensities. She beat the Welsh unmerci- 
fully, filling their country with wailings as well as covering their 
backs with wails, and she took prisoner the king's wife, with 
whom it may be presumed she came furiously to the scratch before 
the capture was accomplished. Ethelfleda died in the year 920, and 
tier brother in 925, the latter being succeeded by his natural son, 
Athelstane, who had no sooner got the crown on his head, than he 
found several persons preparing to have a snatch at it. He, however, 
defeated all his enemies, and devoted his time to polishing his throne, 
adding lustre to his crown, and giving brightness to his sceptre. It 
was in this reign that England first became an asylum for foreign 
refugees, to whom Athelstane always extended his hospitality. Louis 
d'Outremer, the French king, and several Celtic princes of Armorica 
or Brittany, played at hide-and-seek in London lodgings, while 
keeping out of the way of their rebellious subjects. 

It is probable that the part of the metropolis called Little Britain, 
may have derived its name from the princes having established a 
little Brittany of their own in that locality. Athelstane appears also 
to have taken a limited number of pupils into his own palace to board 
and educate, for Harold, the king of Norway, consigned his son 
Haco to the care and tuition of the Saxon monarch. 

Athelstane died in the year 940, in his forty-seventh year, and was 
succeeded by Edmund the Atheling, a youth of eighteen, whose tast6 
for elegance and splendour obtained for him the name of the Magnifi- 
cent. He gave very large dinner parties to his nobles, and at one of 
these his eye fell upon one Leof, a notorious robber, returned from 
banishment, one of the Saxon swell mob who had been transported, 
but had escaped; and who, from some remissness on the part of the 
police, had obtained admission to the palace. Edmund commanded 
the proper officer to turn him out, but Leof — tempted no doubt by the 
sideboard of plate — insisted on remaining at the banquet. Edmund, 
who, as the chroniclers tell us, was heated by wine, jumped up from 
his seat, and forgetting the king in the constable, seized Leof by his 
collar and his hair, intending to turn him out neck and crop. Leof 
still refusing to "move on," the impetuous Edmund commenced 
wrestling with the intruder, who, irritated at a sudden and severe 
kick on his shins, drew a dagger from under his cloak, and stabbed 
the sovereign in a vital part. The nobles, who had formed a circle 
round the combatants, and had been encouraging their king with 
shouts of " Bravo, Edmund! " " Give it him, your majesty ! " were 
so infuriated at the foul play of the thief, and his un-English recourse 
to the knife, that they fell upon him at once, and cut him literally to 
pieces. 

Edred, the brother and successor of Edmund, though not twenty- 
three years of age, was in a wretched state of health when he came to 
the throne. He had lost his teeth, and of course had none to show 
when threatened by his enemies ; and he was so weak in the feet, 
that he literally seemed to be without a leg to stand upon. Never- 
theless he succeeded in vanquishing the Danes, who could not hurt a 
hair of his head ; but, as the chroniclers tell us that every bit of his 



ciiAr. vi.] 



DEATH OP EDRED. 



29 



hair had fallen off, his security in this respect is easily accounted for. 
The vigour that marked his reign has, however, been attributed to 
Dunstan, the abbot, who now began to figure as a political character. 
Edred soon died, and left the kingdom to his little brother Edwy, 
a lad of fifteen, who soon married Elgiva, a young lady of good family, 
and took his w T ife's mother home to live with them. On the day of 
his coronation he had given a party, and the gentlemen, including 
Odo, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Dunstan, the monk, were still 
sitting over their wine, when Edwy slipped out to join the ladies. Odo 
and Dunstan, who were both six-bottle men, became angry at the 
absence of their royal host, and the latter, at the suggestion of the 
former, went staggering after the king to lug him back to the banquet- 
room. Edwy was quietly seated with his wife and her mother in the 
houdoir — for it being a gentlemen's party, no ladies seem to have 




Edmund and Lcof. 

been among the guests— and the monk, hiccuping out some gross 
abuse of the queen and her mamma, collared the young king, who 
was dragged back to the wine-table. 

Though this outrage may have been half festive, interlarded with 
exclamations of " Come along, old boy," " Don't leave us, old chap," 
and other similar phrases of social familiarity, Edwy never forgave 
the monk, whom he called upon to account for money received in his 
late capacity of treasurer to the royal household. Dunstan being what 
is usually termed a "jolly dog," and a " social companion," was ot 



30 COMIC HISTOUV OF ENGLAND. [BOOK I. 

course most irregular in money matters ; and finding it quite impos- 
sible to make out his books, he ran away to avoid the inconvenience 
of a regular settlement. 

Dunstan, nevertheless, resolved to pay his royal master off on the 
first opportunity; and a rising having been instigated by his friend 
and pot-companion, Archbishop Odo, Edgar, the brother of Edwy, was 
declared independent sovereign of the whole of the island north of 
the Thames. Dunstan returned from his brief exile ; but, in the 
mean time, Edwy had been deprived of his wife, Elgiva, by forcible 
abduction, at the instigation of the odious Odo. The lovely unfor- 
tunate had her face branded with a hot iron, and the most cruel 
means were taken to deprive her of the beauty which was supposed 
to be the cause of her ascendancy over the heart of her royal husband. 
Some historians have attributed this outrage to the designs of Dun- 
stan, and among the many irons that monk w r as known to have had 
in the fire, may have been the very irons with which this horrible 
barbarity was perpetrated. Her scars were, however, obliterated by 
some Kalydor known at the time, and probably the invention of 
some knightly Sir Rowland of that early era. She was on the point of 
rejoining Edwy at Gloucester, when she was savagely murdered by 
the enemies of her husband, who did not long survive her, for in the 
following year, 958, he perished either by assassination or a broken 
heart. 

Edgar, a mere lad, of whom Dunstan had made a ladder for his 
own ambition, now succeeded to his brother's dignities, if a series of 
nothing but indignities can deserve to be so called. The wily monk 
had now become Archbishop of Canterbury, and encouraged the new 
king to make royal progresses among his subjects, in the course of 
which he is said to have gone up on the river Dee, in an eight-oared 
cutter, rowed by eight crowned sovereigns. In this illustrious water 
party Kenneth, king of Scotland, pulled the stroke oar, their majes- 
ties of Cumbria, Anglesey, Galloway, Westmere, and the three Welsh 
sovereigns, making up the remainder of the royal crew, over which 
Edgar himself presided as coxswain. 

Though the young king gave great satisfaction in his public 
capacity, his private character was exceedingly reprehensible. His 
inconstancy towards the fair got him into sad disgrace, and his friend 
Dunstan on one occasion administered to him a severe reprimand. 
The monk, however, finished by fining him a crown, prohibiting him 
from putting on, during a period of seven years, that very uncom- 
fortable article of the regalia. As the head is proverbially uneasy 
which wears a crown, the sentence passed upon the king must have 
been a boon rather than a punishment. 

Among the events connected with the reign of Edgar, his marriage 
with Elfrida must always stand conspicuous. He had heard much 
of a provincial beauty, the daughter of Olgar, or Ordgar, Earl of 
Devonshire, and the kin his favourite, the Earl of Athelwold, 

to see this rustic belle, with a view of ascertaining whether the flowei 
would bo worth transplanting to the palace of the sovereign. Athel- 
wold, on seeing the young lady, fell in Iqyg with her himself, from 



CHAP. VI. J EDWARD SUCCEEDS TO THE THRONE. 31 

her extreme beauty; but wrote up to Edgar, declaring that she might 
well be called " the mistress of the village plain," for her plainness 
was absolutely painful; and indeed he added in a P.S., " She is so 
disfigured by a squint, as to give me the idea of the very squintes- 
sence of ugliness." Athelwold attributed her reputation for beauty 
to her fortune, and declared that her money turned hev red hair into 
golden locks, causing her to be well " worthy the attention of Persons 
about to Marry." 

Edgar soon gave his consent to Athelwold's espousing the lady, on 
the ground of her being a good match for him ; but she proved more 
than a match for him a short time afterwards. Edgar, at the expira- 
tion of the honeymoon, proposed to visit his friend, who mado 
excuses as long as he could, insinuating that he was seldom at home, 
and that he could not exactly say when his majesty would be sure 
of catching him. The king, however, good-naturedly promising to be 
satisfied with pot-luck, fixed a day for his visit ; and Athelwold, con- 
fessing all to his wife, begged her to disguise her charms, by putting 
on her shabbiest gown, and to behave herself in such a manner as to 
make the king believe he had lost nothing in not having married her. 

" I should like to see myself appearing as a dowdy before my 
sovereign," was the lady's feminine reply, and she paid more than 
usual attention to her toilette in order to attract the favourable notice 
of Edgar. The monarch finding himself deceived by Athelwold, 
asked him to come and hunt in a wood, when, without any prelim- 
inary beating about the bush, and exclaiming, " You made game of 
me, thus do I make game of you," he stabbed the unfortunate earl, 
and returned home to marry his widow. Edgar did not live many 
years after this ungentlemanly conduct, but died at the early age of 
two-and-thirty. Though he had been favourable to priestcraft, and 
patronised the cunning foxes of the Church, he was an enemy to 
wolves, and offered so much per head for all that were killed, 
until the race was exterminated, and the cry of "Wolf" became 
synonymous with a false alarm of danger. 

Edgar was succeeded (a.d. 975) by Edward, his son by his first 
wife, who was not more than fourteen or fifteen years old ; and thus, 
at that age before which an individual in the present day is not legally 
qualified to drive a cab, this royal hobbledehoy assumed the reins of 
government. His mother-in-law, Elfrida, endeavoured to grasp them 
for her own son Ethelred, an infant of six, but Dunstan having at 
that moment the whip hand, prevented her from reaching the point 
she was driving at. 

Edward, who acquired the name of the Martyr, was accordingly 
crowned at Kingston, where coronations formerly came off ; but he 
did not long survive, for hunting one day near Corfe Castle, he made 
a morning call on his mother-in-law, Elfrida, and requested that a 
drop of something to drink might be brought to him. As Elfrida 
was offering him the ale in front, her porter dropped upon him in the 
back, and inflicted a stab which caused him to set spurs to his horse; 
but falling off from loss of blood, he was drawn—a lifeless bior— for 
$, considerable distance, Elfrida. has been acquitted by some of 



32 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I. 



having been the instigator of this cruel act, but as it is said she 
whipped her little son Ethelred for crying at the news of the death of 
his half-brother Edward, we can scarcely admit that there is any 
doubt of which we can give her the benefit. Both mother and son 
became so exceedingly unpopular that an attempt was made to set up 
a rival on the throne, to the exclusion of Ethelred, and the crown was 
offered to the late king's natural daughter, whose name was Edgitha. 
Edgitha, however, having observed that the regal diadem was 
looked upon as a target, at which any one might take the liberty to 
aim, preferred the comfortable hood of the nun — for she was the 
inmate of a monastery — to the jewelled cap of royalty. The crown 
was accordingly placed by Dunstan, at Easter, a.d. 979, on the weak 
head of Ethelred ; and it is said that the monk was in such a fit of 
ill-temper at the coronation, that he muttered some frightful maledic- 
tions against the bcy-king, while in the very act of crowning him. 
The youthful sovereign was also indebted to Dunstan for the nickname 




Coronation of Ethelred the Unready. 

of the Unready, which was probably equivalent to t^e term "slow 
coach," that is sometimes used to denote a person of sluggish dis- 
position and not very brilliant mental faculties. 



CHAI\ VI.] ACCESSION OF ETHELKED TO THE TIIUONE. 33 

Ethelrcd was wholly incompetent to wear the crown, which was so 
much too heavy for his weak head, that he appeared to be completely 
bonneted under the burden. It sat upon him more like a porter's 
knot than a regal diadem ; while the sceptre, instead of being grace- 
fully wielded by a firm hand, was to him no better than a huge poker 
in the fragile fingers of a baby. 

During the early part of his reign, his mother Elfrida exercised 
considerable influence, but she at length retired from government, 
and took to the building business, erecting and endowing monasteries 
in order to expiate her sins. She became a sort of infatuated female 
Cubitt, and at every fresh qualm of conscience ran up- another floor, 
which was, familiarly speaking, the "old story" with persons in her 
unfortunate predicament. The money expended in the erection of 
religious houses was thought to be an eligible investment in those 
days for sinners, who having no solid foundation for their hopes, were 
glad to take any ground to build upon. 

The Danes had for some time been tranquil, but their natural 
fearlessness made them ready for anything, and seeing Ethelred in a 
state of utter unreadiness on the throne, they indulged the hope of 
driving off the " slow coach " in an early stage of his sovereignty. 

It happened that young Sweyn, a scapegrace son of the king of 
Denmark, had been turned out of doors by his father, and having 
become by the injudicious step of his parent a gentleman at large, 
amused himself by occasional attacks upon the kingdom of Ethelred. 
This sovereign, who, instead of being born with a silver spoon in his 
mouth, appears to have been born one entire spoon of the real fiddle- 
headed pattern,* commenced the dangerous practice of paying the 
foe to leave him alone, which was of course holding out the prospect 
of a premium to all who took the trouble to bully him. He paid 
down £10,000 in silver to the sea-kings, on condition of their retiring 
from his country, which they did until they had spent all the money, 
when they returned, threatening to pay him off, or be paid off 
themselves, an arrangement that Ethelred three times mustered 
the means of carrying into operation. 

Young Sweyn had now become king of Denmark, and had made 
friends with Olave, king of Norway, the son of old Olave, a deceased 
pirate, who had made his fortune by sweeping the very profitable 
crossing from his own country to England. These two scamps ravaged 
the southern coast in 994, and Ethelred, the unready king, was obliged 
to buy them off with ready money. In the year 1001, they made 
another demand of £24,000, which left the sovereign not a single 
dump, except those into which he naturally fell at the draining of 
his treasury. 

Ethelred, who, if he was unready for everything else, appears to 
have been always ready for a quarrel, had contrived to fall out with 
Eichard the Second, Duke of Normandy, and he was on the point of 
taking up arms, when he laid his hand at the feet of Emma, the sister 

* Others think this royal spoon was net fiddle-headed, but that he \va6 the earliest 
specimen of the king's pattern. 

D 



4 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. | BOOK I 

of his enemy. Emma, who was called the " Flower of Normandy," con- 
sented to transplant herself to England, and became the acknowledged 
daisy of the British Court. 

We would willingly take an enormous dip of ink, and letting it 
fall on our paper, blot out for ever from our annals the Danish 
massacre, which occurred at about the period to which our history 
has arrived. Unfortunately, however, were we to overturn an entire 
inkstand, we should only add to the blackness of the page, which 
tells us that the Da-nes were savagely murdered at a time when they 
were living as fellow-subjects among the people. 

It was on the feast of St. Brice, soon after his marriage with Emma, 
that the order to commit this sanguinary act was given by Ethelred. 
It is true that the Danish mercenaries had given great provocation 
by their insolence. They had, according to the old chroniclers,* sunk 
into such effeminacy that they washed themselves once a week and 
combed their heads still more frequently. We cannot perhaps 
accuse the chroniclers of being over nice in their objections to the 
Danish habits of cleanliness, but we really are at a loss to see the 
effeminacy of taking a bath every seven days, and preventing 
the hair from becoming in appearance little better than a quantity of 
hay in a state of unraked roughness. It was on the 15th of 
November, 1002, which happened to be one of their weekly washing 
days, that the Danes were surprised and treated in the barbarous 
manner we have alluded to. The Lady Gunhilda, the sister of 
Sweyn, and the wife of an English earl of Danish extraction, was one 
of the victims of the massacre, and died fighting to the last with that 
truly feminine weapon, the tongue, predicting that her death would 
be followed by the downfall of the English nation. This act of 
ferocity naturally exasperated Sweyn, who resolved on invading 
England, and he prepared a considerable fleet, the vessels belonging 
to which appear to have been got up much in the same style as the 
civic barges on the Thames, for they were gaily gilded, and had all 
sorts of emblematical devices painted over them. Sweyn himself 
arrived in the Great Dragon, a boat made in the inconvenient form 
of that disagreeable animal. Had the patron saint of England been 
at hand to do his duty at that early period, the great dragon would 
have been speedily overcome, but it is a familiar observation, that 
people of this sort arc never to be" found when they are really wanted. 

The invaders landed at Exeter, which was governed by a Norman 
baron, a favourite of the queen ; but, as frequently happens in the 
course of events as well as on the race-course, the favourite proved 
deceptive when the enemy took the field, and resigned the place to 
pillage. The Danish foe marched into Wiltshire, and in every town 
they passed through they ordered the best of everything for dinner, 
when, after eating to excess of all the delicacies of the season, they 
had the indelicacy to settle their hosts when the bill was brought to 
them for settlement. To prevent even the possibility of old scores 
being kept against them, which they might one day be called upon tc 

• Wallingford, p. 517. 



CHAP. VI.] INCURSIONS AND RAVAGES BY THE DANES 



35 



pay off, they burned down the houses, thus making a bonfire of all 
the property, including account books, papers, and wooden tallies 
that the establishment might contain. The entertainers or land- 
lords had no sooner presented a bill, than it was met by a savage 
endorsement on their own backs ; and, though drawing and accepting 
may be regarded as a very customary commercial transaction, still, 
when the drawer draws a huge sword, the acceptor is likely to get 
ay far the worst of it. 




Settling ths Bill. 



An Anglo-Saxon army was, however, organised at last, to oppose 
the Danes ; but Alfric the Mercian — an old traitor, who had on a 
former occasion played the knave against the king — was put at the 
head of it. Ethelred had punished the first treachery of the father 
by putting out the eyes of the son ; but this castigation of the " wrong 
boy," the young one instead of the old one, had not proved effectual. 
His majesty must have been as blind as he had rendered the innocent 
youth, to have again entrusted Alfric with command ; and the con- 
sequences were soon felt, for the old impostor pretended to be taken 
suddenly ill, just as his men were going into battle. He called them 
off at the most important moment ; and instead of stopping at home 
by himself, putting his feet in warm water, and laying up while the 
battle w T as being fought under directions which he could just as easily 
have given from hisownroom, he shouted for help from the whole army ; 

D — 2 



36 



COMIC niSTOKY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I. 



and by sending some for salts, others for senna, a cohort here for a pill, 
and a legion there for a leech, he managed to keep the whole of the 
forces occupied in running about for him. 

Sweyn in the meantime got clear off with all his booty, and by the 
time that Alfric announced himself to be a little better, and able to 
go out, the enemy had vanished altogether from the neighbourhood. 

An appetite for conquest was not however the only appetite which 
Mie Danes indulged, for their voracity in eatmg was such that they 
reated a panic wherever they showed themselves. They ravaged 
.Norfolk, and having reduced it to its last dumpling, they fell upon 
Yarmouth, whose bloaters they speedily exhausted, when they tried 
Cambridge, having probably been attracted thither by the fame of its 
sausages. Subsequently they advanced upon Huntingdonshire and 
Lincolnshire, where they continued as long as they could find a bone to 
pick with the inhabitants. They then crossed the Baltic (a.d. 1004), 
having been obliged to quic England on account of there being 
literally nothing to eat; so that a joint occupation with the natives 
had become utterly impossible. Those only, who from its being the 
land of their birth, felt that they must always have a stake in rho 
country, could possibly have mustered the resolution to remain in it. 
The vengeance of Sweyn being unsatisfied, he returned in the year 




A Dane securing his Booty. 

1006, when he carried fire and sword into every part, and it has been 
said with much felicity of expression, that amidst so much sacking 
the inhabitants had scarcely a bed to lie down upon. 

Unable to offer him any effectual check, the Great Council tried 
what could be done with ready money, and £36,000 w T as the price de- 
manded to pay out this formidable "man in possession" from the 
harassed and exhausted country. The sum was collected by an 
income-tax of about twenty shillings in the pound, or even more, if 
it could be got out of the people by either threats or violence. Such 



CHAP. VI.] REVERSES OP THE ENGLISH UNDER ETnELRED. 



37 



as had paid the Danes directly to save their homes from destruction 
were obliged to pay over again, like a railway traveller who loses hji 
ticket ; and the natives seem to have got into a special train of evils, 
in which every engine of persecution was used against them. 

In 1008 new burdens were thrown upon the people, who for every nine 
nides of land were bound to find a 
man armed with a helmet and breast- 
plate. This would seem no very 
difficult matter, considering that two 
or three such men are found annually 
at the Lord Mayor's show; but in 
former times they had something 
more difficult to do than walk in a 
procession. Though two shillings 
and his beer will, it is believed, 
secure the services of an ancient 
knight, armed cap-d-jnc at an hour's 
notice in our own day, such a person 
was not to be had so cheap in the 
time of Ethelred. In addition to 
this infliction, every three hundi'ed and 
ten hides of land were bound to build 
and equip a ship for the defence of 
the country ; but it seems, after all, 
nothing but fair, that the hides 
should club together to save them- 
selves from tanning. The fleet thus 
raised was, however, soon rendered 

valueless, in consequence of the various commanders having refused 
to row in the same boat, or rather insisting on pulling different 
ways, to the utter annihilation of their master's interest. 

Ethelred had selected for his favourite a low fellow of the name of 
Edric, who was exceedingly eloquent, and had not only talked one of 
the king's daughters into accepting his hand, but had even talked the 
monarch himself into sanctioning the unequal marriage. Edric had 
obtained for his brother Brightric a high post in the navy, as com- 
mander of eight vessels ; but the latter got into a quarrel with his 
nephew, Wulfnoth, who was known by the odd appellation of the 
" Child of the South Saxons," or the Sussex lad, as we should take 
the liberty of calling him. The " child " determined on flight ; but 
with a truly infantine objection to run alone, he got twenty of the 
king's ships to run along with him. Brightric cruised after him with 
eighty sail, but the tempest rising, and the rudders at the stern 
refusing to act, he was driven on shore by stern necessity. Wulfnoth, 
who had done a little ravaging on his own private account along the 
southern coast, returned to make firewood of the timbers of Brightric, 
which fortune had so cruelly shivered. 

Ethelred was completely panic-stricken at the news of this reverse, 
and hurried home as fast as he could to summon a council, but every 
resolution that was passed no one had the resolution to execute. To 




Soldier of the Period. 



38 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I. 



add to the king's embarrassments, " Thin-kill's host " came over, com- 
prising the flower of the Scandinavian youth, which planted itself in 
Kent, and caused a sad blow to the country. Various short peaces 
were purchased by the Saxons at so much a piece ; but, as Pope 
Gregory would have had it, every arrangement was not a sale, but a 
sell on the part of Thurkill, who continued sending in a fresh account 
for every fresh transaction. Ethelred was now in the very midst of 
traitors, and it was impossible that he should ever be brought round in 
such a circle. He had not a single oflicer to whom a commission could 
be safely entrusted. Edric, his favourite, having taken offence, joined 
the enemy in an attack upon Canterbury, which had lasted for twenty 




Thurkill's little Account. 

days, when some one left the gate of the city ajar, cither by design 
or accident. 

Alphege, the good archbishop, who had defended the place, was 
instantly loaded with chains ; and though he felt himself dreadfully 
fettered, he declined to purchase his ransom, for the very best of all 
reasons, namely, that he had not the money to pay for it. The old 
man, wisely making a virtue of necessity, proclaimed his determination 
not to part with a shilling, "and indeed," said he, "I couldn't if 1 
would ; for to tell you the truth, I haven't got it." 

The venerable prelate turning his pockets inside out, proved that 
he was penniless, when they offered to release him if he would per- 



CHAP VI.] SWEYN LANDS AT YOBK. 39 

suade Ethelred to subscribe handsomely to the Danish rent, as wo 
are fully justified in calling it. The archbishop, however, grew ex- 
ceedingly saucy, when they pelted him with the remains of the feast, 
throwing bones, bottles, and bread, in rapid succession at the primate, 
who meekly bowed his head — or perhaps bobbed it up and down — 
to the treatment he experienced. The good old man remained for 
some time unshaken, till a shower of marrow-bones threw him on 
his knees, and one of the ruffians with a coarse pun exclaiming — 
"Let us make no more bones about it, but despatch him at once," 
brutally realised his own ferocious suggestion. 

Thurkill now sent in another account of £48,000 as the price 
of his promised allegiance, which was certainly not worth a 
week's purchase, but Ethelred somehow or other found and paid 
the money. Sweyn, on hearing of this proceeding, pretended to be 
very angry with Thurkill, and fitted out a formidable fleet, with the 
avowed intention of killing with one stone two birds — namely, the 
Danish crow, and the Saxon pigeon. The ships of Sweyn were 
elaborately carved for show, and consequently not very well cut out 
for service. Nevertheless they were quite strong enough to vanquish 
the dispirited Saxons, who would have been overawed at the sight of 
a Danish oar, and might have been knocked down with a feather. 

Sweyn landed at York, and leaving his fleet in the care of his son 
Canute, carried fire and sword into the north ; but as the inhabitants 
were all favourable to his cause, he had no more occasion to take fire 
into the north, than to carry coals to Newcastle. The king had sought 
refuge in London, which refused to give in until Ethelred sneaked 
out, when the citizens having been threatened, according to Sir Francis 
Palgrave,* with damage to their "eyes and limbs," threw open their 
gates to the conqueror. The unready monarch made for the Isle of 
Wight, but finding apartments dear and living expensive, he packed 
off his wife and children to his brother-in-law, Eichard of Normandy, 
who lived in a court at Eouen. The duke made them as comfortable 
as he could, and the lady Emma having fished for an invitation for her 
husband, at length succeeded in getting him asked, to the infinite de- 
light of old " Slowcoach," who for once got ready at a very short notice 
to avail himself of the asylum that was offered him. Sweyn was now 
king of England, a.d. 1013, but after a reign of six weeks, entitling him 
to only half a quarter's salary, he died at Gainsborough, very much 
lamented by all who did not know him. The Saxon nobles who had so 
recently sent Ethelred away, now wanted him back again. They 
despatched a message, however, to the effect that, if he would promise 
to be a good king, and never be naughty any more, they would be 
glad to accept him once more as their sovereign. Ethelred turning 
his son Edmund into a postman, forwarded a letter by hand, promis- 
ing reform, but stipulating that there should be no "fraud or treach- 
ery," or in other words, no humbug on either side. This arrange- 
ment, though growing out of mutual distrust, and being little bettor 
than a provision which each party thought necessary in consequence 

Chap, xiii., p. 310 



40 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK I. 



of the dishonesty of both, must be regarded as highly important in a 
constitutional point of view, for it is evidently the germ of those great 
compacts, which have since been occasionally concluded between the 
sovereign and the people. 

Ethelred, on his arrival at home, found that Canute, the son of 
Sweyn, having been declared king by the Danes, had coolly set him- 



.Sa^ffllTu^ 




EtUelrcil despatching a Letter by liis Son. 

self up as landlord of the Crown and Sceptre at Greenwich. Ethelred 
and Canute continued for three years like "the Lion and the Unicorn, 
lighting for the Crown," with about equal success, when death over- 
took " Slowcoach," after a long and inglorious reign. He died on St. 
George's Day, 101G, having been for live-and-thirty years man and 
boy, on and off the throne of England. 



CHAPTER THE SEVENTH. 

EDMUND IRONSIDES — CANUTE — HAROLD HAREFOOT — HARDICANUTE — 
EDWARD THE CONFESSOR — HAROLD — THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 

On the decease of Ethelred the citizens of London offered the 
throne to his son Edmund, who had got the strange nickname of Iron- 
sides. He obtained this appellation from his extreme toughness ; for 
it has been said by a contemporary that if you gave him a poke in 
the ribs they rattled like the bars of a gridiron, or the railings round 
an area. There can be no doubt that Edmund had strength on his 



CIIAJ». VII.] 



EDMUND I110NSIDES AND CANUTE. 



41 



side, as far as ho was personally concerned, but Canute, or as some 
called him, C'nute and 'Cute, often overreached young Ironsides in 
cunning. In one of their battles — the fifth of a series — the Danes 
were on the point of defeat, when Edric, whom Edmund, however 




'* Flee, English ! dead is Edmund I " 



hard in the ribs, was soft enough in the head to trust after former 
treachery, raised the cry that the young leader had fallen. By some 
ingenious contrivance, Edric had cut off somebody's head which 
reaembled Edmund in features, and, perhaps, improving the likeness 



42 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [iiOOK I, 

with burnt cork or other preparations, raised it on a spear in the field, 
exclaiming " Flee, English! flee, English! dead is Edmund."* Tho 
whole army hecame paralysed at the sight, and even Ironsides him- 
self was completely put out of countenance, for he was unable to tell 
at the moment whether his head was l'eally upon his own shoulders. 
How Edric could have had the face to practise such an imposition 
may puzzle the reader of the present day; but it was exceedingly 
Likely that the trick would be aided by Edmund undergoing, as he no 
doubt would at the moment, a sudden change of countenance. 

Ironsides, though for the moment put to flight, having been as it 
were frightened at his own shadow, found on reflection, in the first 
piece of water he came to, that his head was in its right place, though 
his heart had slightly failed him, and he consequently paused in his 
retreat, and met Canute face to face, on the road to Gloucestershire. 
Ironsides, stepping forward in front of his army, made the cool pro- 
position to Canute that instead of risking the lives of so many brave 
men, they should settle the quarrel by single combat. Considering 
that Edmund had not only the advantage of patent-safety sides, 
which rendered him nearly battle-axe proof, but was also about twice 
the height of his antagonist, it is not surprising that Canute declined 
coming in immediate contact with the metallic plates, which would 
have acted as a powerful battery upon the diminutive Dane. Had 
he accepted the crafty challenge, every blow inflicted on Ironsides 
would have been a severe rap on the knuckles to Canute, who might 
as well have run his head against a brick wall as engage in a single 
combat with a person of such undoubted metal. It was, however, 
agreed that they should divide the realm, and though as a general 
rule it is not advisable to do anything by halves, this arrangement was 
decidedly beneficial to all parties. The armies were both delighted 
at the proposal, and their joy affords proof that their discretion 
formed a great deal more than the better part of their valour. 

Canute took the north, and Edmund the south, with a nominal 
superiority over the former, so that the crown is said by the chroniclers 
to have belonged to Ironsides. It was certainly better that the as- 
cendency should have been given to one of the two, for if their 
territory had been equal the crown must have been divided, and he that 
had the thickest head might have claimed the larger share of the regal 
diadem. Edmund lived only two months after the agreement had 
been signed, and as Canute took the benefit of survivorship, it has 
been good-naturedly suggested that he must have been either the 
actual or virtual murderer of Ironsides. There are only one or two 
facts which spoil this ingenious and amiable theory; the first of which 
is, that there is no proof of his having been killed at all, — an uncer- 
tainty that is quite sufficient to allow the benefit of the doubt to those 
who have been named as hismurderers. Hume has, without hesitation, 
appointed Oxford as the scene of the assassination, and has been kind 
enough to select two chamberlains as the perpetrators of the deed, 

* These; arc the very words, exactly as they ha\e been preserved. — ]'!d: Sir F, 
Wgrarej chapter -slid, page 'Jus. 



CHAP. VII.] CANUTE SUCCEEDS TO THE THRONE. 43 

but we have been unable to collect sufficient evidence to go to a jury 
against tbe anonymous chamberlains, whom we beg leave to dismiss' 
with the comfortable assurance that they quit these pages without 
any stain on their characters. 

Canute, as the succeeding partner in the late firm of Edmund and 
Canute, found himself, in 1017, all alone in his glory on tbe British 
throne. His first care was to call a public meeting of " bishops," 
" duces," and " optimates," at which he voted himself into the chair; 
and he caused it to be proposed and seconded that he should be king 
to the exclusion of all the descendants of Ethelred. There can be 
no doubt that the meeting was packed, for every proposition of 
Canute was received with loud cries of " hear," and repeated cheers. 
Strong resolutions were passed against Edwy, the grown-up brother 
of Edmund Ironsides. Proceedings were instantly commenced ; he 
was declared an outlaw, and was soon taken in execution in the then 
usual form. 

Edmund and Edwy, the two infant sons of Ironsides, were protected 
by the plea of infancy ; but Canute sent them out to dry-nurse to the 
king of the Swedes, with an intimation that if their mouths could be 
stopped by Swedish turnips, or anything else, the arrangement would 
be satisfactory to the English monarch. His Swedish majesty, 
whether moved by pity or actuated by the feeling of " None of my 
child," sent the babies on to Hungary, where they were taken in, but 
not done for, as Canute had desired. The little Edmund died early, 
but his brother Edward settled respectably in life, married a relation 
of the Emperor of Germany, became a family man, and one of his 
daughters was subsequently a Mrs. Malcolm, the lady of Malcolm, 
king of Scotland. 

Edmund and Alfred, the other sons of Ethelred by Emma of 
Normandy, who were still living with their uncle Eobert, had a sort 
of lawyer's letter written in their name to Canute, threatening an 
action of trover for the sceptre, unless it were immediately restored. 

After offering a moiety — -being equal to a composition of ten shillings 
in the pound— he proposed to settle the matter by marrying their 
mamma, who consented to this arrangement ; and the claims of the 
infants were never heard of again. Neglected by their mother, they 
forgot their mother tongue — they grew up Normans instead of 
Saxons, say the old chroniclers, which seems to be going a little too 
far, for a Saxon cannot become a Norman by living in Normandy, 
any more than a man becomes a horse by residence in a stable. 

After triumphing over his enemies, Canute somewhat altered for 
the better, and became a quiet, gentlemanly, but rather jovial man. 
He was fond of music, patronised vocalists, and occasionally wrote 
ballads, one of which is still preserved. As it was said of a certain 
performer, that he would have been a good actor if he had been 
possessed of figure, voice, action, expression, and intelligence; so we 
may say of Canute, that if he had known anything of sense or syntax, 
if he had been happy at description, or possessed the slightest share 
of imagination, he would have been a very fair poet. 

A portion of one of Canute's once popular ballads has been pre- 



44 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[HOOK I. 



served, and if the other verses resembled the one that has come down 
to us, there is no reason to regret that the rest is out of print and 
that nobody has kept the manuscript. 

The following is the queer quatrain which remains as the sole spe- 
cimen of his majesty's poetical abilities : — 

" Merrily sing the monks within Ely, 
When C'nute King rowed there by ; 
Row, my knights, row near the land, 
And hear we these monks sing." 

This dismal distich is said to have been suggested by his hearing the 
solemn monastic music of the choir as he rowed near the Minster of 




Canute performing on his favourite Instrument. 

Ely ; but we suspect the song must have been rather of a secular kind, 
or the term merrily would have been exceedingly inappropriate.* 

About the year 1017, Edric, the royal favourite, evinced some dis- 
position to strike for an advance of salary, when Canute resisting the 
demand, the king and the courtier came to high words. Eric of Nor- 
thumbria, who happened to be sitting in the room with his battle- 
axe, — which was in those days as common a companion as an umbrella 

* Some writers have endeavoured to justify the royal author or vindicate thfl 
characters of the monks of Ely, by saying, that ic those days " merry " meant ••sail." 
Those gentlemen might just as well argue that black meant white — a proposition 
t\,u,' pi ople would not hesitate to put forth as a plea for the errors of royalty. 



CHAP. VII.] CANUTE REPROVES HIS COURTIERS' FLATTERY. 45 

or a walking-stick in the present age,— got up, on a hint from the king, 
and axed the miserable Edric to death. 

Canute, who was also king of the Danes, the Swedes, — whose sove- 
reign was his vassal — and of the Northmen, had many turbulent sub- 
jects abroad as well as at home, but he was in the habit of employing one 
against the other, so that it was utterly immaterial to him which of 
them were slain, so that he got rid of some of them. He kept a strong 
hand over his Danish earls, and even his nephew, " the doughty 
Haco," — though why he should have been called " doughty," is a 
matter of much doubt — was exiled for disregard of the royal authority. 

The Swedes, who were always boiling over, got at last completely 
mashed by Earl Godwin ; and the kings of Fife, w T ho, although mere 
piccoli, were monarchs of some note, having exerted themselves in a 
melancholy strain for independence, at length fell, for the sake of har- 
mony, into the general submission to Canute. Six nations were now 
reduced into one general subordi — nation to the English king, who of 
course became the object of the grossest flattery, and upon one memo- 
rable occasion was nearly sacrificed to the puffing system of his inju- 
dicious friends. One day, when in the plenitude of his power, he 
caused the throne to be removed from the throne-room and erected, 
during low tide, on the sea-shore. Having taken his seat, surrounded 
by his courtiers, he issued a proclamation to the ocean, forbidding it to 
rise, and commanding it not, on any account, to leave its bed until 
his permission for it to get up was graciously awarded. The courtiers 
backed the royal edict, and encouraged with the grossest adulation 
this first great practical attempt to prove that Britannia rules the 
waves. Such a rule, however, was soon proved to be nothing better 
than a rule nisi, which it is impossible to make absolute when opposed 
by Neptune's irresistible motion of course. Every wave of Canute's 
sceptre was answered by a wave from the sea, and the courtiers, who 
were already up to their ankles in salt water, began to fear that 
they should soon be pickled in the foaming brine. 

At length the monarch himself found his footstool disposed to go 
on swimmingly of its own accord, and there was every prospect that 
the whole party would undergo the ceremony of an immediate 
investiture of the bath. The sovereign, who was very lightly shod, 
soon found that his pumps were not capable of getting rid of the 
water, which was now rising very rapidly. Having sat with his feet 
in the sea for a few minutes, and not relishing the slight specimen of 
hydropathic treatment he had endured, he jumped suddenly up, and 
began to abuse his courtiers for the mess into which he had been 
betrayed by their outrageous flattery. 

One of the attendants who had remained at the back of the others 
during this ridiculous scene, observed drily, that the whole party 
would have been inevitably washed and done for, if Canute had not 
made a timely retreat. The sovereign was so humbled by this 
incident, that he took off his crown upon the spot, made a parcel of 
it at once, forwarded it to Winchester Cathedral, and never wore it 



a.gain. 



YVatej , as we all know, can subdue the strongest spirit, and though 



4b 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK 1. 



the spirit of Canute could bear a great deal of mixing, it is evident 
that the sea had shown him his own weakness. In the year 1030 he 
went on a pilgrimage to Rome, with no other staff than a wooden one 
in his hand ; and instead of a valet to follow him, he had a simple 
wallet at his back. From a letter he wrote to his bishops while 
abroad, it would seem that he received presents of " vases of gold and 
vessels of silver, and stuffs, and garments of great price;" so that by 
the time he got home again, his wallet must have been a tolerable 
burden for the royal back. He died at Shaftesbury, in 1035, about 




Canute reproving his Courtiers. 

three years after his return from Rome, and was buried at Winchester; 
ko that he finally laid his head where his crown had been already 
deposited. 

On the death of Canute there was the usual difficulty as to what 
was to be done with the British crown ; for there were two or three 
who thought the cap fitted themselves, and who consequently claimed 
the right to wear it. There is no doubt that Hardicanute, the only 
legitimate son of the late king, would have tried it on had it not been 
left by will to Harold, while his brother Sweyn was the legatee of 
Norway. A compromise was, however, effected, by which Harold 
took everything north of the Thames, including, of course, the Baker 
Street and Finsbury districts, while Hardicanute, to whom Denmark 
bad been bequeathed, took the territories on the south shore, 



CHAP. VII. J HAROLD — HARDICANUTE. 47 

commencing in the Belvidcro Koad, Lambeth, and terminating at 
the southern extremity of the kingdom. He, however, left his 
English dominions to the management of his mother and Earl 
Godwin, while he himself lingered in Denmark ; on account of the 
convivial habits of the Scandinavian chiefs; for Hardicanute drank, 
as the phrase goes, "like a fish," though the liquid he imbibed was 
very different from that which the finny tribe are addicted to. 

Edward and Alfred, the two sons of Ethelred, had come over to be 
in the way in case of anything turning up on the death of Canute, 
but Edward finding himself rather too much in the way, and fearing 
an unpleasant removal, took a return ticket for himself and party for 
Normandy. Alfred, after vainly attempting to land at Sandwich, 
happily thought of Heme Bay, and though it was in the height of 
the season, he of course found no one there to resist his progress 
Having ventured up to Guildford on the invitation of Godwin, Alfred 
and his soldiers found a sumptuous repast and comfortable lodgings 
prepared for them. But Godwin had been more downy even than the 
beds, and the soldiers having been seized and imprisoned found wet 
blankets thrown on their hopes of hospitable treatment. Edward 
himself was cruelly murdered, and Harold, who was called Harefoot, 
from the speed with which he could run, was now able to walk over 
the course, for there was no opposition to him in the race for the 
stakes of Boyalty. He was fond of nothing but hunting, and as he 
could catch a hare by his own velocity he generally had the game in 
his own hands. He died a.d. 1040, after a short reign of four years ; 
and though, if he had lived to old age, he might have proved a good 
sovereign in the long-run, he was certainly not happy in the walk of 
life where fortune had placed him. 

Hardicanute, a name signifying Canute the Hardy, or the tough, 
came over on the death of Harold ; but with all his toughness he 
evinced or assumed some tenderness at the cruel fate of his brother 
Alfred. He showed his sympathy for one by brutality towards another, 
and subjected Harold's memory to the most barbarous indignities. 

Godwin, fearing that he might share the obloquy of his former 
master, propitiated Hardicanute by giving him a magnificent toy, con- 
sisting of a gilt ship, with a crew of eighty men, each having a 
bracelet of pure gold weighing sixteen ounces, and dressed in the 
most valuable habiliments. The new king no doubt melted the gold 
very speedily in drink, to which he was so much addicted, that he 
actually died intoxicated at a party given at Clapham, by one Clapa, 
from whose hame, or home, that suburb was called. His majesty was, 
according to the chroniclers, "on his legs," and the waiters had of 
course left the room, when Hardicanute unable to get further than 
" Gentlemen," staggered into his seat, and was carried out — mortally 
inebriated.* 

The throne being now vacant, Edward, the half-brother of the 
late king, who happened to be on the spot, was induced to step up 

•Other historians say in so many words, that " he died drunk.' We prefer usuiy 
the milder expression of " mortally inebriated." 



48 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[HOOK I. 



and take a scat, though he was the senior of the late sovereign. In 
those days, however, the rules of hereditary descent were not very 
rigidly followed, for it was success that chiefly regulated succession. 
Edward's cause had, however, derived much support from Earl 
Godwin, the most extraordinary teetotum of former times. He had 
practised the political chasscz crolsscr to an extent that even in our 




A frightful Example. Death of Hardicauuto. 

own days has seldom been surpassed. He had turned his coat so 
frequently that he had lost all consciousness of which was the right 
side and which the wrong ; but he always treated that side as the 
right which happened to be uppermost. 

Godwin had, it is said, commenced life as a cowboy, but he socn 
raised himself above the low herd, and eventually succeeded in 
making his daughter Editha the queen of Edward. The king, who 
had lived much in Normandy, and had derived some assistance from 
Duke William, afterwards the Conqueror, had formed many Norman 
predilections, which created jealousy among his Saxon subjects. In 
1051, he had received as a visitor his brother-in-law, one Eustace, 
Count of Boulogne, who, on returning home with his followers through 
Dover, insolently demanded gratuitous lodgings of one of the inhabi- 
tants. The Dover people, who are still remarkable for their high 
charges, and who seldom think of providing a cup of tea under two 



CHAP. VII.] EDWARD — HAROLD. 49 

shillings, or a bed for less than half-a-crown, resisted the demands 
of Eustace and his friends, when a fight ensued, and the Normans 
were compelled to make the best of their way out of the neighbourhood. 

Eustace, still smarting under the blows he had received, ran howling 
to Edward, like a boy who, upon receiving a thrashing, Hies to his 
big brother for redress. The king desired Godwin, who was governor 
of Dover, to chastise the place ; but the earl positively refused, and 
insisted that the Count of Boulogne could not complain if, when he 
required to be served gratuitously, he had got regularly served out. 
Edward, irritated at this message, prepared for war, and Godwin, 
who was joined by his sons, Sweyn and Harold, had collected a 
powerful army ; but when it came to the point, the soldiers on both 
sides gave evident symptoms of a desire to see the matter amicably 
arranged. As the king's forces consisted chiefly of the fryd or 
militia, there can be little doubt where the panic commenced ; and 
Godwin's men, recognising among the foe some of their fellow- 
countrymen trembling from head to foot, immediately commenced 
shaking hands, so that there was an end to all firmness on both sides. 
A truce was consequently concluded, and the disputes of the parties 
referred to the arbitration of the Witenagemote ; who doomed Sweyn 
to outlawry, and Godwin and Harold to banishment. Thus the 
" king's darlings," as they had been called, were disposed of, and the 
pets became the object of petty vengeance. Editha, the daughter of 
Godwin, shared in the- general disgrace of her family; for the king, 
her husband, "reduced her," say the chroniclers, "to her last 
groat; " and with this miserable fourpence she was consigned to a 
monastery, where she was waited on by one servant of all- work, and 
controlled by the abbess, who was the sister of her royal tyrant. 

Edward being now released from the presence of Godwin, began to 
think of seeing his friends, and invited William of Normandy to 
spend a few months at the English court. He came with a numerous 
retinue, and finding most of the high offices in the possession of 
Normans, he was able to feel himself perfectly at home. On the 
conclusion of his stay he departed, with a gift of horses, hounds, and 
bawks ; in fact, a miniature menagerie, which had been presented to 
him by his host, without considering the inconvenience occasioned by 
adding " a happy family " to the luggage of the Norman visitor. 

Edward was not allowed much leisure, for his guest had no sooner 
departed, than he found himself threatened by Earls Godwin and 
Harold, who sailed up to London, and landed a large army in the 
Strand. This important thoroughfare, which has been in modern 
times so frequently blockaded, was stopped up at that early period 
by men who were paving their way to power ; so that paviours of 
some kind have for ages been a nuisance to the neighbourhood. 

Edward agreed to a truce, by which Godwin and his sons were 
restored to their rank ; but the earl, while dining soon afterwards 
with Edward at Windsor, was, according to some, choked in the 
voracious endeavour to swallow a tremendous mouthful. Thus 
perished, from an appetite larger than his windpipe, one of the most 
illustrious characters of h:*3 age. Harold, his son, succeeded him in 





50 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[hook r. 



his titles and estates ; but as the latter are said to have consisted 
chiefly of the Goodwin Sands, the legatee could not hope to keep his 
head above water on such an inheritance. 

Harold commenced his career by worrying Algar, a rival earl, who 
got worried to death (a.d. 1059), and he then turned his attention to 
the father-in-law of his victim, one Griffith, a Welsh sovereign, whose 
army not liking the bother of war, cut off his head and sent it as a 
peace-offering to the opposite leader. This unceremonious manner of 
breaking the neck of a difficulty by decapitating their king, says 
more for the decision than the loyalty of the Welsh people. 

It was not long after this circumstance, that Harold, going out in 
a lishing-boat on the coast of Sussex with one or two bungling 




Unpleasant Tosition of King Harold. 



mariners, got carried out to sea, and was ultimately washed ashore 
like an old blacking-bottle in the territory of Guy, Count of Ponthieu. 
Having been picked up by the count, poor Harold was treated as a 
waif, and impounded until a heavy sum was paid for his ransom. 
William of Normandy, upon hearing that an carl and retinue were 
pawned in the distinguished name of Harold, good-naturedly 
redeemed them, at a great expense, but made the English earl 
solemnly pledge himself to assist his deliverer in obtaining the English 
crown at the death of Edward. The king expired on the 5th of 



CHAP. VII.] INVASION BY WILLIAM THE COXQUEttOK. 53 

January, 10GG, leaving the crown to William, according to some, and 
to Harold, according to others ; but as no will was ever-found, it is 
probable enough that he agreed to leave the kingdom first to one and 
then to the other, according to which happened to have at the moment 
the ear of the sovereign.* 

Harold, forgetting the circumstance of his awkward predicament 
in the fishing-boat, and ungrateful of William's services, immediately 
assumed the title of king, and got his coronation over the very same 
evening. It is even believed by some that the ceremony was so 
hastily performed as to have been a mere tetc-d-tetc affair between 
Stigand, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the new sovereign. 

When William received the news of Harold's accession he was 
having a game with a bow and arrows in his hunting-ground near 
Rouen. His trembling knees suddenly took the form of his bow, and 
his lip began to quiver. He threw himself hastily into a skiff, and 
crossing the Seine, never stopped till he reached his palace, where 
he walked up and down the hall several times, occasionally sitting 
down for a moment in the porter's chair, then starting up and 
resuming his promenade up and down the passage. On recovering 
from his reverie he sent ambassadors to demand of Harold the 
fulfilment of his promise; but that dishonest person replied, that he 
being under duress when he gave his word, it could not be considered 
binding. 

William accordingly called a public meeting of Normans, at which 
it was resolved unanimously, that England should be invaded as 
speedily as possible. A subscription was immediately entered into 
to defray the cost, and volunteers were admitted to join the expedition 
without the formality of a reference. Tag from Maine and Anjou, 
Eag from Poitou and Bretagne, with Bob-tail from Flanders, came 
rapidly pouring in ; while the riff of the Rhine, and the raff of the 
Alps, formed altogether a mob of the most miscellaneous character. 
Those families who are in the habit of boasting that their ancestors 
came in with the Conqueror, would scarcely feel so proud of the fact 
if they were aware that the companions of William comprised nearly 
all the roguery and vagabondism of Europe. 

A large fleet having been for some time in readiness at St. Valery, 
near Dieppe, crossed in the autumn of 10GG, and on the 28th of 
September the Normans landed without opposition at Pevensey, near 
Hastings. William, who was the last to step on shore, fell fiat upon 
his hands and face, which was at first considered by the soldiers as an 
evil omen ; but opening his palm, which was covered with mud, he 
gaily exclaimed, " Thus do I lay my hands upon this ground — and 
be assured that it is a pie you shall all have a finger in." This speech, 
or words to the same effect, restored the confidence of the soldiers, 
and they marched to Hastings, where they waited the coming of 
the enemy. 

* This Edward was generally called the Confessor, but how he got the name we 
are unable, to say with certainty. It has been ingeniously suggested that it was r>u 
the lucux a huh lucendo principle, and that he was called the Confessm'. from his 
never confessing anvthing. 



54 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



fbOOK I 



Harold, who had come to London, left town by night fo. the Sussex 
coast, and halted at Battle, where the English forces kept it up for 
two or three days and nights with songs and revelry. At length, on 
Saturday, the 14th of October, William gave the word to advance, 
when a gigantic Norman, called Taillefer, who was a minstrel and a 
juggler, went forward to execute a variety of tricks, such as throwing 
up his sword with one hand and catching it with the other ; balancing 
his battle-axe on the tip of his chin ; standing on his head tipon the 
point of his spear, and performing otherfeatsof pantomimic dexterity. 
He next proceeded to sing a popular ballad, and having asked 
permission to strike the first blow, he succeeded in making a 
tremendous hit ; but some one happening to return the compliment, 
he was very soon quieted. The men of London, who formed the 
bodyguard of Harold, made a snug and impenetrable barrier with 
their shields, under which they nestled very cosily.* 




The Landing of William the Conqueror. 



From nine in the morning till nine in the afternoon the Normans 
continued watching for the English to emerge from under their 
shields, as a cat waits for a mouse to quit its hiding-place. As the 
mouse refuses to come to the scratch, so the Londoners declined to 



* Sonic of tbern, who were buried under their bucklers, may have been inhabi- 
tants of I'n -klci -bury, which may have derived its name from tt t practice we have 

des ribed. 



CHAP. VII.] DEFEAT OP HAROLD. 65 

quit their snuggery, until William had the happy idea of ordering big 
bowmen to shoot into the air ; and they were thus down upon the 
foe, with considerable effect, by the falling of the arrows. Still the 
English stood firm until William, by a pretended retreat, induced the 
soldiers of Harold to quit their position of safety. Three times were 
the Saxon snails tempted to come out of their shells by this crafty 
manoeuvre, but their courage was still unshaken, until an arrow, shot 
at random, hit Harold in the left eye, when his dispirited followers 
fled like winking. 

The English king was carried to the foot of the standard, where a 
few of his soldiers formed round him a little party of Protectionists. 
William fought with desperate valour, and was advancing towards 
the banner, when an English billman drew a bill which he made pay- 
able at sight on the head of the Duke of Normandy. Fortunately the 
precious metal of William's helmet was sufficient to meet the bill, 
which must otherwise have crushed the Norman leader. Harold, 
whose spirit never deserted him, observed with reference to the wound 
in his eye, that it was a bad look-out, but he must make the best of 
it. At length he fell exhausted, when the English having lost their 
banner, found their energies beginning to flag, and William became 
the Conqueror. 



BOOK II. 

THE I'EFIOD FROM THE NORMAN CONQUEST TO T11E HEATH OF 

KING JOHN. 



CHAPTER THE FIRST. 

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 

Before entering on our account of the reign of William tho 
Conqueror, a bird's-eye view of the early biography of that illustrious 
person may be acceptable. He -was born in 1024, of miscellaneous 
parents, and was a descendant of the illustrious Rollo, who wrested 
Normandy from diaries the Simple, whose simplicity consisted no 
doubt in his submitting to be done out of his possessions. William 
had been in his early days one of those intolerable nuisances, an 
infant prodigy, and at eight years old exhibited that ripeness of judg- 
ment and energy of action for which the birch is in our opinion the 
best remedy. He had quelled a disturbance in his own court, when 
very young ; but a beadle in our own day can do as much as this, for 
a disturbance in a court is often quelled by that very humble officer. 
His marriage with Matilda, daughter of the Earl of Flanders, gave 
him the benefit of respectable connection, so useful to a young man 
starting in life ; and after trying with all his might to acquire Maine, 
his success in obtaining it added to his influence. 

Such was the man whom we left in our last chapter on the field of 
Battle, and on our return to him we find him building Battle Abbey 
in memory of his victory. He caused a list or roll to be made of all 
the nobles and gentlemen who came over with him from Normandy, 
and many of them were men of mark, if we are to judge by their 
signatures. This earliest specimen in England of a genuine French 
roll was preserved for some time under the name of the roll of Battle 
Abbey, but the monks were in the habit of making it a medium for 
advertisement, by allowing the insertion of fresh names, to gratify 
that numerous class who are desirous of being thought to have come 
in with the Conqueror. The roll of Battle Abbey was no longer con- 
fined to the thorough-bred, but degenerated into a paltry puff, made up 
in the usual way, with paste — and scissors. 

William, instead of going at once to London, put up for a few days 
at Hastings, expecting the people to come and ask for peace; but 
though he remained at home the greater part of the day, the callers 
were by no means numerous. He accordingly took his departure for 

5b 



CIIAr. I.] REIGX OF WILLIAM THE COXQUEHOR. 57 

Eomney, which he savagely rummaged. He then went on to Dover, 
which Holinshed describes as the lock and key of all England, but 
the inhabitants, rinding the lock and key in hostile hands, sagaciously 
made a bolt of it. 

William's soldiers had no sooner taken possession of Dover than 
they were all seized with severe illness, but whether they availed 
themselves of the celebrated Dover Powders is exceedingly dubious. 
The Conqueror at length went towards London, where the Witan had 
proclaimed as king a poor little boy of the name of Edgar Atheling, 
the son of Edmund Ironsides. "William, however, nearly frightened 
the Witan out of its wits by burning Southwark, and a deputation 
started from town to Berkhampstead, to make submission to the Con- 
queror. Young Edgar made a formal renunciation of the throne, 
which was not his to renounce, and indeed, when he sat upon it the 
child fell so very far short, that for him to feel the ground under his 
feet was utterly impossible. 

After these concessions, the day was fixed for William's coronation 
in Westminster Abbey, on the 26th of December, 10GG, when the cere- 
mony was performed amid enthusiastic cheering which lasted lot 
several minutes. 

The Normans outside not being accustomed to Saxon habits, mis- 
took the applause for disapprobation, and thinking that their duke 
was being hooted, or perhaps pelted, with " apples, oranges, nuts, and 
pears," they began to avenge the fancied insult by taking it out in 
violence towards the populace. Houses were burnt down in every 
direction, when the noise made without became audible to those 
within, who rushed forth to join in the row, and William, it is said, 
was left almost alone in the abbey, to finish his own coronation. He, 
however, went through the whole ceremony, and even added a few 
extemporaneous paragraphs to the usual coronation affidavit, by the 
introduction of an oath or two of his own, after the interruption of 
the ceremony. 

The Conqueror having taken some extensive premises at Barking, 
went to reside there for a short time, and was visited by several 
English families, among whom that of the warrior Coxo — since ab- 
breviated into Cox — was one of the most illustrious. William found 
considerable difficulty in satisfying the rapacity of his followers, who 
thought nothing of asking for a castle, a church, an abbey, or a trifle 
of that kind by way of remuneration for their services. He scattered 
those articles right and left, according to the chroniclers ; but it would 
be difficult to say where he got them from, were it not that the 
chroniclers are so skilled in castle-building that they have always a 
stock on hand to devote to the purposes of history. 

After six months' residence in England, William, having got his 
half-year's salary as king, was in funds to enable him to take a trip 
to Normandy. He took with him a complete sideboard of English — 
not British — plate, and with the treasures of this country dazzled the 
eyes of his continental friends and subjects. A party of Young 
England gents who accompanied him attracted also, by their 1<>i .; 
Uowing hair, the admiration of foreigners. 



58 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGTAND. TbOOK II. 

Odo, William's half-brother, who had beon left at home to rule in 
the absence of the king, soon — as the reader may anticipate from the 
obvious pun that must ensue — rendered himself utterly odious. 
His treatment of the conquered people was cruel in the extreme ; he 
filled the cup of misery not only to the brim, but degradation was 
kept continually on draft, every new blow being a fresh tap for the 
victims of tyranny. The very smallest beer will, however, ferment 
at last if kept continually bottled up ; and though the Entire of 
England had been for a time rendered flat, there; was a good deal of 
genuine British stout at bottom. A general effervescence broke out 
on the departure of William, who had acted hitherto as a cork ; but 
Odo evinced a disposition to play the screw, by drawing out 
whatever he could in the absence of his superior. 

A general conspiracy seemed to be on the point of breaking out, 
when William, who had allowed letter after letter to remain un- 
answered which had been sent to entreat him to come home, started 
late one night for Dieppe, on his return to England. His first care 
was to assuage the discontent, and he had already learned the 
acknowledged trick, that the shortest way of stopping a British 
mouth, is by liberally feeding it. He accordingly gave a series of 
Christmas dinners, and he invited several Saxon earls, to meet 
a succession of bovine barons. If the banquets were intended as a 
bait, there is no doubt that the English very readily swallowed them. 
By way of further propitiating the people, he published a law in the 
Saxon tongue, decreeing "that every son should inherit from bis 
father," or in other words, should take after him. If, however, he 
was liberal in his invitations to dinner, he took care that the people 
should pay the bill, for he had scarcely finished entertaining them, 
when he began taxing them most oppressively. 

William did not acquire the title of Conqueror quite so speedily as 
has been generally imagined, for he was occupied at least seven years 
in running about the country from one place to the other, wiping out, 
by many severe wipes, the remaining traces of insubordination to his 
government. In the year IOCS he besieged Exeter, where Git ha, the 
aged mother of Harold, was leading a quiet life, surrounded by a 
bevy of venerable gossips. The Conqueror routed them out, and they 
repaired to Bath, where their taste for tittle-tattle might have been 
indulged, but meeting with rudeness from the celebrated Bath chaps, 
they hastened to Flanders. William now sent for his wife Matilda, 
whom he had not brought over until he could form some idea how 
long he was likely to remain in his new quarters. A cheap corona- 
tion was got up for her at Winchester, the contract having been 
taken by Aldred, Archbishop of York, who it is believed found all the 
materials for the ceremony, without extra charge ; and as the queen 
was rather short, we may presume that everything was cut down to 
a low figure. A little after tins event, Harold's two sons, Godwin 
and Edmund, with a little brother, facetiously called Magnus, camo 
over from Ireland, and hovered about the coast of Cornwall, whero 
young Magnus, being a minor, perhaps hoped for sympathy. They 
planted their standard, expecting that the inhabitants would fly to it, 



CHAI-. I.] WILLIAM REFUSES HIS DAUGHTER TO EDWIN. 



59 



hut they only flow at it, to tear it in pieces. Poor Magnus, with 
infantine tenderness, cried like a baby over the insulted bunting. 
Tired with their ill success, the three brothers eventually went over 
as suppliants to Denmark, where the unhappy beggars were received 
by Sweyn with amiable hospitality. 

In the ensuing year, William turned Somerset so completely 
upside down that it could not have known whether it stood on its 
head or its heels; and in every shire he took, he built a castle, by 
way of insuring the lives of himself and his followers in the county. 
According to Hollinshed, the greatest indignities were passed upon 
the conquered people. They were compelled even to regulate their 
beards in a particular fashion, from which the youngest shaver was 
not exempt. They were obliged to "round their hair," which 
probably means that they were obliged to keep it curled, and thus 
even in their coiffure they were ruled by a rod of iron. In addition 
to this, they were forced to "frame themselves in the Norman 
fashion," which must have made them the pictures of misery. 

William had, in one of his amiable moods, probably over a bottle 
of wine, promised Edwin, the brother-in-law of Harold, his daughter 
in marriage. When, however, the earl came to claim his fair prize, 
the Conqueror not only withdrew his consent, but insulted the suitor, 




William refusing his Daughter to Edwin. 



and a scene ensued very similar to the common incident in a farce, 
when a testy old father or guardian flies into a passion with the 
walking gentleman, exclaiming "Hoity-toity!" and calling him a 
voung jackanapes. Edwin, irritated at this treatment, collected au 



GO COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOK II. 

army in the north, and waited near the river Ouse : but the courage 
of his soldiers soon oozed out when the Conqueror made his appear- 
ance. William was victorious ; but he had much to contend against 
during the first few years of his reign, and an invasion of the Danes, 
under Osborne, was a very troublesome business. 

The Normans, having shut themselves up in York, set fire to some 
of the houses outside the city, to check the approach of the foe ; but 
the flames catching the minster, a " night wi' Burns " seemed to be 
inevitable. Not wishing to remain to be roasted, they risked the 
minor inconvenience of being basted, and made a very lively sally 
out of the city. They were nearly all killed, and the Danes took 
possession of York ; but the place being reduced to ashes, was little 
better than an extensive dust-hole. Osborne and his followers not 
wishing to winter among the cinders, retired to their ships, and 
William thus had time to make further arrangements. 

The Conqueror was hunting in the Forest of Dean when ho heard 
of the catastrophe, and having his lance in his hand, he swore 
he would never put it down until he had exterminated the enemy. 
This must have been a somewhat inconsiderate vow, for though it 
may have been chivalrous to declare he would never put down his 
lance until a certain remote event, the weapon must have been at 
times a very inconvenient companion, as he did not commence his 
campaign until the spring ; but as his vow came into operation 
immediately, the lance must have been a dead weight in his hand 
during the whole of the winter season. At length he mounted his 
horse, and rode rough-shod over the people of York, after which he 
took Durham, and ultimately repaired to Hexham, to which he 
administered a regular Hexham tanning. 

Robbery, under the less obnoxious name of confiscation, now 
became very general, and William commenced the wholesale sub- 
traction of lands, with a view to their division among his Norman 
followers. The conquered English had nearly all their property 
seized, and those who had but little shared the lot of the wealthiest 
in the spoliation to which all were subjected. William de Percy 
profited largely in purse ; and if in those days manners made the 
man, he must have been a made man indeed, for he got no less than 
eighty manors. Several other names will be found in Domesday 
Book, drawn up about fifteen years after the conquest, from which 
some of our oldest ancestors may learn full particulars of their early 
ancestors. 

The title of Richmond had its origin from a Breton ruffian of the 
name of Allan, who having got a mount near York as his share of 
the plunder, gave it the name of Riche-Mont, or Rich-Mount ; and 
the first Earl of Cumberland was a low fellow named Reuouf 
Meschines, the latter title being no doubt derived from mesquin, to 
express something mean and pitiful in this individual's character. 
The boast of having come in with the Normans is equivalent to a 
confession of belonging to a family whose founder was a thief, or at 
Least a receiver of stolen articles. 

The resistance to the Conqueror was, in many parts of England, 



CHAP. I.] INSURRECTION— ROGER FITZ OSBORN. 61 

exceedingly obstinate, and Here ward of Lincoln, commonly called 
" England's Darling," or the Lincoln pet, was one of the most reso- 
lute of William's enemies. Such was the impetuosity of the pet, 
that the Normans imagined he must be a necromancer : and William, 
in order to turn the superstitions of the people to his own account, 
engaged a rival conjuror, or sorceress, who was placed with much 
solemnity on the top of a wooden tower, among the works that were 
proceeding for the defence of the invader's army. Hereward, how- 
ever, seizing his opportunity, set fire to the wizard's temple, and the 
unfortunate conjuror being puzzled, terminated his career amidst a 
grand pyrotechnic display, which proved for Hereward and his party 
a blaze of triumph. 

The English had established a camp of refuge at Ely, but tho 
hungry monks, whose profession it was to fast, were the first, when 
provisions ran short, to grumble at the scarcity. Their vows were 
evidently as empty as themselves, and though they had pledged 
themselves to abstinence, they began eating their own words with 
horrible voracity. They betrayed the isle to the Conqueror ; but 
Hereward refusing to submit, plunged, like a true son of the soil, 
into the swamps and marshes, where the Normans would not ven- 
ture to follow him. Protected to a certain extent in the bosom of 
his mother earth, he carried on a vexatious warfare, until William 
offered terms which took the hero out of the mud, and settled him 
in the estates of his ancestors. 

It has been customary with historians to cut the conquest exceed- 
ingly short, as if Veni, vidi, vici, had been the motto of William ; 
and that, in fact, the Anglo-Saxons had surrendered at his nod, — ■ 
overcome by the waving of his plume — if he ever wore one ; or in 
other words, knocked down with a feather. Such, however, was not 
the case ; for it took seven years' apprenticeship to accustom the 
hardy natives of our isle to the subjection of a conqueror. 

While William was in Normandy, whither he had been called to 
protect his possessions in Maine — for, as we are told by that mad 
wag, Matthew Paris, he never lost sight of the Main chance, — Philip 
of France offered some assistance to Edgar Atheling. This individual 
accordingly set sail, but the unlucky dog had scarcely got his bark 
upon the sea, when the winds set up a dismal howl, and he was 
driven ashore near Northumberland. Edgar and a few friends 
escaped to Scotland, and at the advice of his brother-in-law, Malcolm, 
sought a reconciliation with the Conqueror, who allowed the Atheling 
his lodging in the palace of Kouen, with a pound's worth of silver a 
day for his maintenance. 

The king was soon recalled to England by an insurrection, got up 
by Koger Fitz Osborn, who, together with a large number of persons 
who were all subject to Fitz, determined on resisting the insolent 
oppression of the Conqueror. Young Koger, whose father, William 
Fitz Osborn, had been of great service to the Norman invader, was 
engaged to Emma de Gael, a daughter of the Duke of Norfolk, when 
the banns were most unreasonably forbidden by the sovereign. The 
young couple,, however^ determined not to be foiled, had made u 



62 COMIC niSTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOR Jl. 

match of it ; and at the wedding feast, which was given at Norwich, 
some violent speeches were made, in the course of which William was 
denounced as a tyrant and a humbug, amid repeated shouts of " hear, 
hear," from the whole of the company. 

The grand object of the Norman rebels was to bring round Earl 
Waltheof, and having taken care to heat him with wine, they did 
succeed in bringing him round in a most wonderful manner. He 
assented to every proposition, and his health was drunk with enthu- 
siasm, followed, no doubt, by the usual complimentary chorus, 
attributing to him the festive virtues of jollity and good fellowship. 
The next morning, however, after "a consultation with his pillow," 
according to the Saxon chroniclers — from which we are to infer that 
he and his pillow laid their heads together, on the principle of goose 
to goose — he began to think he had acted very foolishly at the party 
of the previous night, and, jumping out of bed, packed off a communi- 
cation to those with whom he had promised to co-operate. After 
presenting his compliments, he " begged to say, that the evening's 
amusement not having stood the test of the morning's reflection, lie 
was under the painful necessity of withdrawing any consent he might 
have given to any enterprise that might have been proposed at the 
meeting of the day preceding." 

The conspiracy, which had commenced in drinking, ended, very 
appropriately, in smoke ; nearly all who took a part in the Nonvich 
wedding were killed, and it has been well said by a modern writer 
that a share in the Norwich Union was not in those days a very 
profitable matter. It was about the year 1077 that William began 
to be wounded by that very sharp incisor — the tooth of filial dis- 
obedience. When preparing for the conquest of England he had 
promised, in the event of success, to resign Normandy to his son 
Eobert, and had even taken an oath — clenched, probably, with the 
exclamation, " So help me, Bob ! " — that if Eobert assisted in his 
father's absence the boy should have the Duchy. 

Having conquered England, the Governor returned, and wanted 
Normandy back again, observing, with coarse quaintness, that he 
was " not going to throw off his clothes till he went to bed," or, in 
other words, insisting that Eobert, who had got into his father's shoes, 
should instantly evacuate the paternal high-lows. Robert was brave, 
but by no means foppish in his dress, and had acquired the nickname 
of Eobert Curt-hose or Short-stockings. He probably derived tins 
appellation from a habit of wearing socks, and it is not unlikely that 
he was familiarly known as Bob Socks among his friends and ac- 
quaintances. Young Socks, who had always been irritable, was on 
one occasion roused to a pitch of passion by having the contents of a 
pitcher pitched upon his head by his two brothers, from (he balcony 
of his own lodging. lie became mad with rage, and, irritated by the 
water on the brain, he ran upstairs with a drawn sword in his hand, 
when the king, hearing the row among the three boys, rushed to the 
spot, and succeeded in quelling it in a manner not very favourable to 
young Socks, who ran away from home towards Eouen. Through 
the intercession of his mother, he was persuaded to return home, 



CIIAI\ I.] INSURRECTION — ROBERT OF NORMANDY. 63 

and it is probable that " B. S." — the initials of Bob Socks — was " en- 
treated to return home to his disconsolate mother, when all would 
be arranged to his satisfaction." Nevertheless, his pocket-money 
continued to be as short as his hose, and his companions declared it 
to be a shame that he never had a shilling to spend in anything. He 
accordingly went to his father, and demanded Normandy, but the 
monarch refused him, reprimanded him for his irregular habits, and 
recommended him to adopt " the society of serious old men," — the 
"heavy fathers" of that early period. Bobert declared irreverently 
that the old pumps were exceedingly dry companions, and reiterated 
his demand for Normandy. The king wrathfully refused, when 
young Socks announced his determination to take his valour to the 
foreign market, and place it at the service of any one who chose to 
pay him his price for it. 

He visited various localities abroad, where he recounted his griev- 
ances, and borrowed money, making himself a sort of begging-letter 
impostor, and going about as if with a board round his neck, inscribed 
"Turned out of doors," or "Totally destitute." Though he col 
lected a good round sum, he spent the whole of it in minstrels, 
jugglers, and parasites, so that he divided his time between the enjoy- 
ment of popular songs, conjuring tricks, and paid paragraphs, 
embodying the most outrageous puffs of his own character. After 
leading a vagabond life for some time, he was set up by Philip of 
Prance, in a castle on the confines of Normandy ; but as he was only 
allowed lodging, he had to find his board as he could, by plundering 
his neighbours. One day he had sallied forth in search of a victim, 
when he found himself engaged in single combat with a tall gentle- 
manly man in a mail coat and a vizor, forming a sort of iron veil, 
which covered his countenance. The combatants had been for some 
time banging at each other with savage vehemence, when Bobert 
delivered "one, two, tbree," with such rapid succession on the head 
of his antagonist, that the latter, unable to resist so many plumpers 
coming at once to the pole, retired from the contest. 

The stalwart knight being regularly knocked up, was glad to knock 
under, and fell to the earth with a piteous howl, in which Bobert 
recognised the falsetto of his own father. Young Socks, who had a good 
heart, burst into tears, and instead of falling on his antagonist to finish 
him as he had designed, he fell upon his own knee to ask forgiveness 
of his parent. William, who would have been settled in one more 
crack, took advantage of his son's assistance, but went away mutter- 
ing maledictions against Young Socks, who subsequently finding the 
vindictiveness of his father's character, declined any further commu- 
nication with the " old gentleman," and never saw him again. 

In the reign of "William the Church was always disposed to be 
militant, and among the most pugnacious priests was Walcher do 
Lorraine, the Bishop of Durham, who, it is said, often turned his 
crozier into a lance, by having, we presume, a long movable hook at 
the end of it. He divided his time between preacbing and plunder, 
correcting the morals of the people one day, and on the next picking 
their pockets. He was, in fact, alternately teaching and thrashing 



G4 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK 11. 



them, as if the only way to impress them with religious truth, was to 
beat it regularly into them. 

At length, however, the right reverend robber having become very 
unpopular in his neighbourhood, agreed to attend a public meeting of 
the inhabitants at Gateshead, to offer explanations on the subject of 
the murder of one Liulf, a noble Englishman, and on other miscel- 
laneous business. The attendance was far more numerous than 
select, and the old bishop becoming exceedingly nervous, ran away 
into the church with all his retinue. The people declared that if he 
did not come out they would smoke him out, by setting fire to the 
building ; and they had proceeded to carry their threats into execu- 
tion, when, half suffocated with the heat, the bishop came to the door 
with his face muffled up in the skirts of his coat, and addressed a 
few words to the mob in so low a tone, that our reporters being at a 




The Bishop of Durham. 

considerable distance — almost eight centuries off — have not succeeded 
in catching them. The bishop, however, caught it at once, for he was 
slain after a short and rather irregular discussion. The words " Slay 
ye the bishop," were distinctly heard to issuo from a voice in the 
crowd, and the speaker, — whoever he was, — having put the question, 
the ayes and the bishop had it. 

William selected one bishop to avenge another, and chose the 
furious Odo, who in spite of cries for mercy, and piteous exclamations 
of " ! don't, Odo ! " killed every one that came across his path, 
without judicial forms, or, familiarly speaking, without judge or jury. 
This ambitious butcher looked with a pope's eye at tho triple crown 
uf Rome, and set out for Italy, with plenty of gold, to cany his 
election to the papal chair by corruption and bribery. The virtues of 
the cardinals might not have proved so strong as the cardinal virtues; 
but Odo, the bishop of Bayeux, had no chance of trying the experi- 



CHAP. I.] WILLIAM MAKES HIS WILL. GO 

ment, for he was stopped in his expedition to Eome, at the Isle ot 
Wight, by his brother-in-law, the Conqueror. William ordered his 
arrest ; but no one volunteering to act as bailiff, the king seized the 
prelate by the robe, and took him into custody. " I am a clerk — a 
priest," cried Odo, endeavouring to get away. " I don't care what 
you are," exclaimed William, retaining his hold upon his prisoner. 
"The pope alone has the right to try me," shrieked the bishop, 
getting away, and leaving a fragment of his robe in the king's hand. 
" But I've got you, and don't mean to part with you again in a hurry," 
muttered William, after darting forward and effecting the recapture 
of Odo, who was immediately committed to a dungeon in Normandy. 

The king soon after this incident lost his wife Matilda, and he 
became, after her decease, more cruel, avaricious, and jealous of his 
old companions-in-arms, than ever. One of the worst acts of his 
reign was the making of the New Forest in Hampshire, which he 
effected by driving away the inhabitants without the smallest com- 
pensation, from a space of nearly ninety miles in circumference. He 
appointed a bow-bearer, whose office still exists as a sinecure, with a 
salary of forty shillings a year, for which the gentleman who holds 
the appointment swears "to be of good behaviour towards the 
sovereign's wild beasts," and of course, in compliance with his oath, 
would feel bound to touch his hat to the British Lion. 

After founding the New Forest, the king enacted the most 
oppressive laws ; placing on the killing of a hare such penalties as ai*e 
enough to cause " each particular hair to stand on end," by their 
extreme barbarity. 

Towards the end of the year 1086 William, who had grown exceed- 
ingly fat, started for France, to negotiate with Philip about some 
possessions, when the latter indulged in some small puns at the 
expense of the corpulency of the Conqueror. By comparing him to a 
Gllet of veal on castors, and suggesting his being exhibited at a prize 
monarch show, Philip so irritated William that the latter swore, with 
fearful oaths, to make his weight felt in France ; and he kept his 
word, for falling upon Mantes, he succeeded in completely crushing 
tt. Having, however, gone out on horseback to see the ruins, the 
gigantic animal he was riding stepped on some hot ashes, which set 
the brute dancing so vigorously that the pummel of the saddle gave 
the Conqueror a fearful pummelling. He was so much shaken by this 
incident that he resolved never to ride the high horse, or indeed any 
other horse again ; and he was soon after removed, at his own 
request, to the monastery of St. Gervas, just outside the walls of Bouen. 
Becoming rapidly worse, his heart softened to his enemies, most of 
whom he pardoned, and he then proceeded to make his will, by which 
he left Normandy to his son Bobert, and bequeathed the crown of 
England to be fought for by William and Henry, with a significant 
wish, however, that the former might get it. Henry exclaimed 
emphatically, " What are you going to give me? " and on receiving 
for his answer, "Five thousand pounds weight of silver out of my 
treasury," ungraciously demanded what he should do with such a paltry 
pittance. " Be patient," replied the king ; " suffer thy elder brothers 



Gb 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK II. 



to precede thee — thy time will come after theirs;" but Henry, 
muttering " It's all very well to say • be patient,' " hurried out of the 
room, drew the cash, weighed it carefully, and brought a strong box 
to put it in.* 

To think of an'irOn chest at such a moment proved the possession 
of a heart of steel; and "William, the elder son, was nearly as bad, 
for he hastened to England to look after the crown before his father 
had expired. 




William departing for France. 

It was cn the 9th of September, 1087, that the Conqueror died, and 
his last faint sigh was the signal for a rush to the door, in which 
priests, doctors, and knights joined with furious eagerness. In vain 
did a diminutive bishop ask a stalwart warrior " where he was shoving 
to?" and the expostulations of a prim doctor to the crowd, entreat- 
ing them to keep back, as there was "plenty of time," were utterly 
disregarded. The scene resembled that which may be witnessed 
occasionally at the pit door of the Opera, for the whole of Willie m'.-? 
attendants were eager to get home for the purpose of being early in 
securing either some place or plunder. The inferior servants of the 
royal robber — like master, like man — commenced rifling the king's 
trunks and drawers of alj the cash, jewels, and linen. There sceniyl 

•For further particulars of Henry's conduct, ruff Ordifio, 



CHAP. I.] BURIAL OF THE CONQUEROR. G7 

every prospect of the Conqueror being left in the city of Eouen to bo 
buried by the parish, when a few of the clergy began to think of tho 
funeral. The Archbishop ordered that it should take place at 
St. Stephen's, in Caen, and none of the family being present, the 
undertaker actually came down upon a poor good-natured old knight, 
who had put himself rather prominently forward as a sort of 
provisional committee-man. How the affair was settled we are 
unable to state, but we have it on the authority of Oderic, that 
when the Bishop of Evreux had pronounced the panegyric, a man in 
the crowd jumped up, declaring the Conqueror was an old thief, and 
that he — the man in the crowd — claimed the ground on which they 
were then standing. Many of the persons round cheered him in his 
address, and the bishops, for the sake of decency, paid out tho 
execution from the Conqueror's grave for sixty shillings. 

The character of William has been a good deal blackened, but 
scarcely more than it deserves, for there is no doubt that he was cruel, 
selfish, and unprincipled. It is, however, a curious fact, that what 
receives blacking from one age gets polished by the next : and this may 
account for the brilliance that has been shed in this country over the 
name of one who introduced the feudal system, the Game Laws, and 
other evils, the escape from which has been the work of many centuries. 
Though a natural son, he was an unnatural father, and the result 
was, that being an indifferent parent, his children became also 
indifferent. He had a violent temper, and was such a brutal glutton 
that he aimed a blow at Fitz-Osborne, his steward, for sending to table 
an under-done crane, when Odo interfered to check his master's 
violence. Of his personal appearance we have an authentic record 
in a statue placed against one of the pillars of the church of St. 
Stephen, at Caen ; but as the figure is without a head, we have tried 
in vain to form from it some idea of the Conqueror's countenance. 
From the absence of the face in the statue we can only infer that 
William wore an expression of vacancy. 



GS 



COMIC 111STOKY OIT ENGLAND. 



[LOOK 11. 



CHAPTER THE SECOND. 



WILLIAM KUFUS. 




ILLIAM, the son of the Conqueror, had ob- 
tained the nick-name of Eufus, from his 
red hair, and these jokes on personal 
peculiarities afford a lamentable proof of 
the rudeness of our ancestors. Having 
left his father at the point of death, ho 
hastened to England, where he pretended 
to be acting for the king ; resorting to 
what, in puffing phraseology, is termed 
the untradesmanlike artifice of "It's the 
same concern," and doing business for 
himself in the name of the late sovereign. 
One of his first steps was, of course, to- 
wards the treasury, from which he drew 
sixty thousand pounds in gold and silver. 
Having received from his father a letter 
of introduction to Archbishop Lanfranc, 
he rushed, with the avidity of a man who has got a reference to a 
new tailor, and presenting it to the primate, requested that measures 
might be taken for putting the crown on his head as soon as possible. 
Lanfranc, having secured the place of Prime Minister for himself, 
issued cards to a few prelates and barons, inviting them to a corona- 
tion on Sunday, the 26th of September, 1087, when the event came 
off rather quietly. 

When Curt-hose — whom the reader will recognise as our old friend 
Socks — first heard of his father's death, he was living on that limited 
but rather elastic income, his wits, at Abbeville, or in some part of 
Germany. He, however, repaired to Rouen, where he was very well 
received ; while Henry, the youngest brother, stood like a donkey 
between two bundles of hay, not knowing whether he should have a 
bite, at Britain or a nibble at Normandy. 

Eufus had, at the commencement of his reign, to contend with a 
conspiracy got up by his uncle Odo, to place Robert on the throne of 
England as well as on that of Normandy ; for the great experiment 
of sitting on two stools at once had not then been sufficiently carried 
out to prove the folly of attempting it. 

Odo took rapid strides, but as Robert, if he took any stride at all, 
must have attempted one from Rouen to Rochester, he remained in 
his Duchy, leaving his followers to follow their own inclination at 
their own convenience. They had fortified Rochester Castle, but 
being besieged, and a famine threatening, they were glad to find a 
loop-hole for escape, which they effected by capitulating on certain 
conditions, one of which, proposed by Odo, was a stipulation that the 
band should not play as the vanquished party left the Castle. Eufus. 



CHAP. II.] 



ItALPII LE FLAMBABD. 



GO 



teeling that a procession without music would go off flatly, refused 
his assent to this proposal, and the band accordingly struck up an 
appropriate air at each incident. 

As Odo left the Castle the "Rogue's March" resounded from tower 
to tower and battlement to battlement, while the people sang snatches 
of popular airs, among which " Go, Naughty Man," and " Down 
among the Dead Men," were perhaps the greatest favourites. Odo 
was eventually banished, and the insurrection was at an end, for 
Curt-hose had neither the money nor the inclination to carry on the 
war; and, like a defunct railway scheme, the plan took its place 
amongst the list of abandoned projects. 




Odo dismissed from Rochester Castle. 



In the year 1088 Lanfranc, the king's adviser, died, and was 
succeeded by a Norman clergyman, named Ralph, who was called 
also Le Flambard, or the Torch, from his being a political incendiary, 
who had been ever ready to light up the flame of discontent at a 
moment's notice. His nominal offices were treasurer and chaplain, 
but his real duty was to raise money for the king, extort for his 
majesty a large income, and help him to live up to it. As a tax- 



70 COMIC niSTORY OF ENGLAND. [flOOK II. 

gatherer and a bon vivanl he was unexceptionable ; but we regret that 
we cannot say so much for him as a bishop and a gentleman. 

This person, however, succeeded only to the political, not to the 
ecclesiastical dignities of Odo ; for the king, finding the revenues of 
Canterbury very acceptable, determined on acting as his own arch- 
bishop. He professed a desire to improve the see by using his own 
eyes, but his real view was to get all he could for the indulgence of 
his pleasures, Ralph le Elambard seems to have possessed the talent 
of extortion to a wonderful degree, and he even set at nought the 
proverb as to the impossibility of making " a silk purse out of a sow's 
ear; " for* he certainly extracted immense sums by getting hold of 
the ear of the swinish multitude. 

"William Eufus, having been successful against the friends of Eobert 
in England, determined (a.d. 1089) on attacking the unfortunate and 
improvident Curt-hose on his own ground in Normandy. Socks had 
ao money to carry on the war, for he had not only cleared out his 
coffers to the last farthing, but was up to his neck in promises which 
he never could hope to realise. His bills were flying like waste-paper 
about every Exchange in Europe, and the boldest discounters shook 
their heads when a document with the familiar words " Accepted, 
E. Curt-hose," was shown to them. He applied, therefore, for aid to 
the king of the French, his feudal superior, who sent an army to the 
confines of Normandy, but sent a messenger at the same time to the 
English king, stating the terms on which the army might be bought 
off and induced to march back again. 

Eufus willingly paid the money, and Socks, in a fit of desperation, 
applied to his brother Henry, who had already lent him three 
thousand pounds, taking care, however, to get a third of the duchy 
by way of security for his money. He accordingly came to Eouen, 
where he put down a large sum of money : and what was better still, 
he put down a conspiracy to deliver up the city to the enemy. One 
Conan, a burgess, who was to have handed over the keys, was 
condemned to imprisonment for life ; but Henry taking him up to the 
top of a tower under the pretence of showing him the scenery, 
brutally threw him over. The unhappy captive was beginning to 
expatiate on the softness of the landscape below, when Henry, seizing 
him by the waist, savagely recommended him to test the reality of 
so much apparent softness, by throwing himself on the kind indul- 
gence which the verdant landscape appeared to offer him. The 
burgess had no time to reply, before he found himself half-way on 
his down journey. 

It is difficult in these days to fancy the brother of the sovereign 
visiting a condemned culprit in his prison, and taking a walk with 
him up to the top of the building, to point out to him the beauties of 
the surrounding prospect. That the royal visitor should suddenly 
turn executioner in the most barbarous manner, is still more 
unaccountable. Henry must surely have received a large quantity of 
the burgess's sauce before he could have been provoked to an act 
which redounds so much to his discredit in the pages of history. 

In the year 109] , William and Eobert settled their differences, after 



CHAP. II.] PETER THE HERMIT. 71 

which they began to take advantage of their little brother Henry 
whom they robbed of everything he possessed, until his suite was 
reduced to one knight, three esquires, and one chaplain. His flight 
was a series of rapid movements, to which this miserable quintette 
formed a kind of running accompaniment ; but Henry, in spite of 
every contretemjjs, behaved himself with dignity as the leader and 
conductor of his little band. 

Eufus, on his return to England, found it overrun by Malcolm, the 
Scotch king, who, however, made a regular Scotch mull of his enter- 
prise. After a peace as hollow as the " hollow beech tree " which the 
woodpecker keeps continually on tap, poor Malcolm was invited to 
Gloucester, where he fell into an ambush — a bush in which he was 
torn to pieces by the sharp thorns of treachery. 

Duke Eobert having made repeated applications to his brother, 
"William Eufus, for the settlement of his claims upon England, at 
length put the matter into the hands of his solicitor, Philip of France ; 
who, after soliciting justice for Curt-hose, marched an army into 
Normandy. Eufus, knowing costs to be the only motive of Philip, 
who, on being handsomely paid, would certainly throw his client 
overboard, determined on raising a large sum ; which he accom- 
plished by levying twenty thousand men as soldiers, and allowing 
them to buy their discharge at ten shillings a head, an arrangement 
which nearly all of them gladly fell into. The proceeds of this trans- 
action being handed over to Philip, that monarch shifted his forces 
from Normandy, leaving Eobert to shift for himself ; so that poor 
Socks was again driven to the most wretched extremities. 

Eufus was now troubled by the Welsh, who had overrun Cheshire, 
probably on account of its cheeses, for the Welsh were attached to 
their rabbits even so early as the eleventh century. The Eed King 
pursued them over hill and dale, but they daily obtained advantages 
over him, and on reaching Snowdon he saw that it would be the height 
of folly to proceed further. After a few ups and downs over the moun- 
tains, he retreated with shame, and found occupation at home, a.d. 
1094 — 5, in quelling a conspiracy headed by Eobert de Mowbray, Earl 
of Northumberland, aided by Eichard de Tunbridge, with a variety of 
Johns, Williams, and Thomases de What-d'ye-call-'em and So-and- 
So. Some of the conspirators were imprisoned, and some hanged ; 
but a few, in anticipation of the fatal bolt, ran away for the purpose 
of avoiding it. 

Immediately after these events, Eobert, roused by the preaching of 
Peter the Hermit, familiarly known as Pietro L' Ercmita, determined 
on giving up business as Duke of Normandy and starting as a 
crusader for Palestine. In order to raise money for his travelling 
expenses, and after having vainly entreated discount for his bills, he 
proposed to sell his dukedom to his brother for ten thousand pounds, 
including the good-will of the house of Normandy, the crown, which 
was not a fixture, the throne with its appropriate hangings, the sceptre 
the sign of royalty, and all the palace furniture. The unscrupulous 
Eufus agreed to purchase, but being without a penny of his own, he 
made a demand on the empty pockets of his subjects. 



72 



COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. 



[HOOK II. 



Several bishops and abbots having already sold all the treasures of 
their churches, told the king in plain terms they had nothing more to 
give him, when the sovereign replied, " Have you not, I beseech you, 
coffins of gold and silver full of dead men's bones ? " thus insinuating, 
according to Holinshed, " that he would have the money out of their 
bones if they did not pay him otherwise." The bishops and abbots 
were induced to take the hint of the king; and the term " boning" 
may have had its origin from this species of robbery. 




Robert Cart-hose trying to get a Bill discounted. 

Having paid the ten thousand pounds, Eufus went to take pos- 
session of his new purchase, and met with no resistance except from one 
Helie, Lord of La Fleche, who professed to have a previous mortgage 
on part of the property. Eufus treated him as a mortgagee 
so far as to pay him off in the current coin of the age, though 
a year or two after (a.d. 1100) as the Red King was hunting in the 
New Forest, he heard that Helie had surprised the town of Mans, and 
of course astonished the men of Mans very unpleasantly. 

William turned his horse's head towards the nearest seaport, which 
happened to be Dartmouth, plunged into the first vessel he found 
there, and ordered the sailors to start at once for Normandy. The 
crew suggested that it was a very odd start to think of setting off in a 
gale of wind ; but his majesty began to storm with as much violence 
as the elements. He asked — if they ever knew of a king being 
drowned? — and if the adage applies to those who deserve hanging as 
well as to those who are born for that ceremony, Rufus might have relied 
on exemption from a watery terminus. He arrived safely at Harfleur, 
after one of the most boisterous passages in his life, which was one 



CHAP. II. J 



A REMARKABLE INCIDENT. 



73 



»f considerable turbulence. The bare nsws of his arrival sufficed to 
frighten Helie, who lirst ordered his troops to fall in, and immediately 
ordered them to fall out, for he had no further use for them. Helie 
took to his heels, and William became sole master of Normandv. 

We now come to one of the most remarkable incidents in English 
history, and in our desire for accuracy we have grubbed about the 
records of the past with untiring energy. We have blown away the 
dust of ages with the bellows of research, and have, we think, suc- 
ceeded in investing this portion of our annals with a plainness of 
which the very pike-staff itself might be fairly envious. 

It was on the 1st of August, in the year 1100, that William was 
passing the night at Malwood Keep, a hunting-lodge in the New 
Forest. Had there been a Court Circular in existence in those days, 
it would have recorded the names of Henry, the king's brother, and a 
host of sporting fashionables who were present, to share the pleasures 
of their sovereign. His majesty was heard at midnight to be talking 
loudly in his sleep, and his light having gone out, he was crying 
lustily for candles. His attendants rushed to his room, and found 
him kicking and plunging under a nightmare, from which he was soon 
released, when he requested them to sit and talk to him. When their 
jokes were on the point of sending him to sleep, their songs kept him 
awake : and in the morning an artisan sent him six arrows as a spe- 
cimen, with an intimation that there would be a large reduction on 




Reading the Dream. 



his taking a whole quiver. The king took the half-dozen on trial, 
keeping four for himself, and giving two to Sir Walter Tyrrel, with a 



74 



COMIC ITISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[HOOK II. 



complimentary remark that " good weapons are due to the sportsman 
that knows how to make a good use of them." 

During a hoisterous dcjcilncr a la fourchctte, at which the Eed 
King greatly increased his ruhicundity by the quantity of wine he 
consumed, a postman arrived with a dream, from the Abbot of St. 
Peter's, at Gloucester, done up in an envelope. " Ecad it out," ex- 
claimed Eufus, after having glanced at its contents ; and on its being 
found to forbode a violent death to the king, he ordered a hundred 
pence to be given to the dreamer, which, supposing him to have been 
taking " forty winks," would have been at the liberal rate of twopence- 
halfpenny a wink for his rather disagreeable doze over the destiny of 
his sovereign. Eufus laughed at the prediction, and repaired to the 
chase, accompanied by Sir Walter Tyrrel, when a hart, in all its 

M "• ° - 

■Mm 




Flight of Sir Walter Tyrrel. Horse of the Period. 

heart's simplicity, came and stood between the illustrious sportsmen. 
The extraordinary hilarity of the bounding hart attracted the atten- 
tion of Eufus, who drew his bow, but the string broke, and Eufus not 
having two strings to his bow, called out to Tyrrel to shoot at tho 
bald-faced brute for his bare-faced impudence. Sir Walter instantly 
obeyed ; but the animal, bobbing down his head, allowed the arrow 
to go through his own branches towards those of a huge tree, when 
the dart, taking a somewhat circuitous route, avoided the body of the 
hart and went home to .the heart of the sovereign. Tyrrel ran towards 
biii master, and attempted to revive him ; but though there was plenty 



CHAP. II.] DEATH OF nUFUS. 75 

of harts-horn in the forest, none could be made available. The un- 
fortunate regicide, merely muttering to himself some incoherent ex- 
pressions as to his having " done it now," galloped to the sea coast, and 
tied to France — taking French leave of his country, according to the 
usual custom of malefactors. 

The royal remains were picked up soon after by one Mr. Purkess, 
a respectable charcoal-burner, whose descendants still reside upon the 
spot, and who carted Henry off on his own responsibility to Win- 
chester, where the king was honoured by a decent funeral. Though 
there were plenty of lookers-on, there were very few mourners ; and 
in a portrait of the tomb* which has been preserved, we recognise 
economy as the most prominent feature. Henry, the king's brother, 
made the usual rush to the treasury, where he filled his pockets with 
all the available assets ; and the members of the hunting party, 
finding that the game was up, started off as fast as they could in 
pursuit of their own interests. 

The character of Eufus is not one which the loyal historian will love 
to dwell upon. The philologist may endeavour to prove the brutal 
licentiousness of the king by deriving from Eufus the word ruffian ; but 
the philologist will, however, be as much in error as the antiquarian who 
declared that Eufus, or Eoofus, was so called from his being the builder 
of Westminster Hall, of which the roof was the most conspicuous orna- 
ment. The Eed King died a bachelor, at the age of forty-three, after a 
very extravagant life, in the course of which he exhibited strong 
symptoms of the royal complaint — which shows itself in a mania for 
constructing and altering palaces. He would erect new staircases, 
and indulge in the most extravagant flights ; but if this had been 
accompanied by a few steps taken in the right direction, Posterity 
would not have judged very harshly what are, after all, the mere 
whims of royalty. 

* The tomb still sUuds in the middle of the choir of Winchester Cathedral. 



70 



COMIC niRTORY Or ENGLAND. 



[BOOK II. 



CHAPTER THE THIED. 



HENRY THE FIRST, SURNAMED BEAUCLERC. 




N returning to Henry, we 
find him at the porter's 
lodge, imperiously de- 
manding the keys of the 
treasury. While he had 
just succeeded, by alter- 
nate bribery and bluster, 
in obtaining the desired 
bunch from the hesitating 
janitor, "William de 
Breteuil, the treasurer, 
came running out of 
breath, and protested, as 
energetically as the state 
of his wind would allow, 
against the money being 
carried away, when 
Robert, tbe elder brother, 
had a prior right to it. 
Henry, having tried a 
little argument, of which 
he got decidedly the worst, suddenly drew his sword, and threatened 
to perforate the treasurer, or any one else who should oppose his 
progress. A mob of barons having collected round the disputants, 
took part with the new king, in expectation, no doubt, of getting a 
share of the plunder. William de Breteuil was compelled therefore 
to look on at the pocketing of the cash and jewels by Henry and his 
supporters, the treasurer occasionally entering a protest by mildly 
observing " Mind, I've nothing to do with it." Having made use of 
the cash in buying the adherence of some of those mercenary weather- 
cocks — from whom it is considered an honour, in these days, to be 
descended — Henry got himself crowned on the 5th of August, in the 
year 1100, at Westminster. 

Finding his throne rather rickety, he tried a little of the "soft 
sawder" which has always been found serviceable as a cement 
between the sovereign and the people. He mixed up a tolerably 
useful compound in the shape of a charter of liberties, and by laying 
it on rather thick to the Church, he obtained the support of that 
iniluential body. He restored ancient rights, and promised that when 
he had to draw money from his people he would always draw it as 
mild as possible. 

Henry's next "dodge" was to try the effect of an English marriage, 
and he therefore sent in a sealed tender for the hand of Miss Matilda 
Malcolm, or Maud, the daughter of the king of Scots, as she is 



CHAP. III.] HENRY THE FIRST. 77 

commonly called in history. She had already refused as many 
offers as would have filled a moderate-sized bonnet-box, and sent 
word back that she was " o'er young to marry yet," in answer to the 
application of the English sovereign. She was, however, advised 
that it would be a capital thing for the two countries, if she would 
consent to the match ; and as it is one of the penalties of royalty to 
wed for patriotism instead of from choice, she was soon persuaded to 
a<?ree to the union. 

Such instances of devotion are, however, only found among royal 
families ; for we doubt whether a fair Jemima Jenkins, or a bewitch- 
ing Beatina Brown, would consent to become the wife of young 
Johnson in an adjacent street, for the sake of healing a parochial 
feud, or curing the heartburn of an entire neighbourhood. 

The marriage between Maud and Henry was very nearly being 
prevented by a report that the young lady had formerly been a nun ; 
but it was proved that her aunt had been in the habit of throwing 
over her head something in the shape of a veil or a pinafore, to prevent 
the Normans from staring at her when she went out walking. Miss 
Matilda had the candour to acknowledge that she always took off 
the unbecoming covering directly she got a little way from home, and 
it is evident she was not unwilling to have a sly peep at the Normans, 
when her aunt was not watching her. Her marriage was cele- 
brated on the 11th of November; but Anselm, the Archbishop of 
Canterbury, who officiated, came out of the Abbey before the cere- 
mony, and in order to answer all false reports, stuck an enormous 
poster on the door, intimating that Maud was " No Nun," in 
tremendous capitals. 

Henry also obtained some popularity by expelling all the improper 
characters that his brother had patronised ; but it does not seem that 
they were replaced by persons of a much more reputable order. 
Henry, however, affecting the estimable qualities of a new broom, 
began by sweeping clean, and scavenged the court of all his brother's 
minions. Ralph le Flambard, the late king's tax-gatherer, was sent 
to the Tower, where he became one of the lions of the place, and by 
his wit captivated the keepers who were charged with his captivity. 
Henry on being urged to get rid of him, happened to say accidentally, 
" No, no, give the fellow sufficient rope and he will hang himself," 
upon which one of the courtiers taking his majesty at his word, sent 
an enormous quantity of stout cord to the prisoner. Flambard 
having reduced the guards to the state in which tipplers wish to be 
who love their bottles, took the rope, and hanging himself by the 
waist, lowered himself into the moat beneath, from which he escaped 
to Normandy. 

Robert Curt-hose, who had turned crusader a year or two before, 
came back (a.d. 1101) with a perfect shrubbery of laurels from 
Palestine. The Normans, delighted at seeing their chief smothered 
in the evergreens of glory, were easily persuaded to join him in an 
attack upon England. The followers of Curt-hose, however, soon 
began to waver, and after having received several terrific stripes, 
their leader agreed to take 3000 marks, by way of annuity, as a com- 



78 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK II. 



promise lor all his claims upon England. Kobcrt was true to his 
part of the engagement, but Henry, under various pretexts, soon dis- 
continued his payments to Socks, who nevertheless lived in a stylo 
of great extravagance. He filled his court with bad characters, who 
not only emptied his pockets, but sold or pawned his clothes ; and 
he is represented as often lying in bed for want of the necessary 
articles of attire to enable him to get up to breakfast. With the 
crown on his toilet table, and the regal robe hanging across the 
back of a chair — for these insignia of royalty were always left to him 
— he was still without the minor but indispensable articles of dress. 




The Effects of Extravagance. 

and he often observed to his minister, " I can't very well go about 
with nothing on but that scanty robe and that hollow bauble." We 
car) imagine him being reduced to the necessity of offering to pledge 
his crown, and being met by the depreciatory observation, " that the 
article was second-hand, had been a good deal worn, and seemed 
very much tarnished." 

At length, in the year 1105, Henry, taking advantage of Eobcrt's 
reduced circumstances, made an attack upon Normandy. The troops 
of Curt-hose were ill-paid, ill-clad, ill-conditioned, ana ill-tempered. 
In vain did Curt-hose attempt to rally them; for they only rallied 
him on his poverty, and many of them deserted, leaving him to fight 
his own battles. His personal valour served him for a short time; 
he struck out right and left with enormous vigour, but his almost 
solitary efforts became at length absolutely absurd, and ho was 
Ultimately " removed in custody,' He was subsequently committed 



CHAP. III.] HENRY MASTER OF NORMANDY. 79 

to Cardiff Castle, where he died, in the year 1134 at the advanced 
age of nearly eighty ; and it was said by a wag of the day, that Curt- 
hose had such a facility of running into debt that he ran up four 
scores with Time before the debt of Nature was satisfied. 

Henry was now master of Normandy, whither he on one occasion 
took his son and heir, William, a lad of eighteen, to receive the 
homage of the barons. This was an idle ceremony, for the barons 
seldom kept their words ; and homage, or hummage, was frequently 
a mere hum on the part of those who promised it. The English king 
was about returning from the port of Barfleur, when Thomas Fitz- 
Stephen, a sailor, originated the disgraceful touting system, by 
thrusting his card into Henry's hands, and offering to take the royal 
party over cheap, in a well-appointed vessel. His majesty replied, 
" I have already taken my own passage in another ship, but the 
prince and his suite have to be conveyed, and I shall be happy to 
hear what you will undertake it for, per head, provisions, of course, 
included." The terms were soon arranged, and the dangerous 
practice of overcrowding having, even at that time, prevailed among 
mercenary speculators, three hundred people were packed into a 
craft which might have comfortably accommodated about twenty. 
The prince and his gay companions insisted on having a party on 
board the night previous to starting, and the crew, as well as the 
captain, were more than half-seas-over before they started from the 
shore of Normandy. Fitz-Stephen was in such a state at the wheel, 
that it seemed to him continually turning round, and the men 
employed in looking-out thought the lias dc Gattc — a well-known 
rock — had been doubled, when in fact the vessel was driving rapidly 
on to it. This recklessness soon led to a wreck, and the sole 
survivor was one Berold, a butcher of Rouen, who has reported 
the catastrophe with so much accurate minuteness as to have 
deserved, though he never got it until now, the proud title of the 
father of the penny-a-liners. When Henry heard the news he fainted 
away, and never " smiled as he was wont to smile " from that day to 
the present. Being deprived of his only legitimate son, he became 
anxious to secure the throne to his daughter, the widow Maud, or 
Matilda, relict of the Emperor Henry the Fifth ; and on Christmas- 
day, 1126, the bishops, abbots and barons were assembled at Windsor 
Castle to swear to maintain her succession. These parties — the 
respectable families that " came in with the Conqueror" — were all 
guilty of the grossest perjury; which, a few years ago, would have 
rendered them all liable to the pillory, and would in the present day 
expose them to serious punishment. A quarrel arose between Stephen, 
Earl of Boulogne, the king's legitimate nephew, and Robert, Earl of 
Gloucester, his illegitimate son, as to which was entitled to swear 
first ; the real object being to decide which, upon breaking their oaths 
as they both fully intended to do — would take precedence as the 
successor of Henry, After a good deal of desultory discussion, a 
division settled the point in the nephew's favour. Anxious to see his 
daughter settled in life, Henry got her married, rather against her 
Will, tQ Geoffrey, Ea,rl of Anjou , W&Q, from an odd custom he had 



60 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK II. 

of wearing a piece of broom in his cap, instead of a feather, acquired 
the nickname of Plantagenet. The marriage was celebrated at Kouen, 
and Henry issued a proclamation ordering everybody to be merry. 
Long faces were thus entirely prohibited, there was a penalty on 
black looks, and persons unable to laugh on the right side of their 
mouths were made to laugh upon the other. 

Some anxiety was, however, occasioned to Henry by the existence 
of his nephew, William Fitz-Robert, the son of Curt-hose, who had 
pretensions to the throne through Matilda, his grandmother, which 
of course gave him a claim on the friendship of the house of Baldwin, 
between whom and the grandmother there was a close relationship. 
The apprehensions of Henry were aroused by "William Fitz-Henry 
being made Earl of Flanders, but the young man was unfortunately 
killed by receiving a poke from a pike; and though the wound was 
only in the ringer, it grew worse from being placed in the hands of 
ignorant practitioners. Finding it did not get better, he observed that 
it was "really very mortifying," and so it was, for mortification 
ensued almost immediately. He died at St. Omer, on the 27th of 
July, 1128, in the twenty-sixth year of his age ; and if his epitaph 
had been written, it would have run thus : 

'• Hei^ lies a young prince, whose life was cut short 
By medical quacks overturning the sand of it ; 
His ringer was wounded, but who could have thought 
The doctors would make such a very bad hand of it 1 " 

Henry's latter days were employed in listening to the quarrels of 
his daughter, Matilda, and her husband, who were never out of 
pickles, by reason of their family jars, which were very numerous. 
The king had resided four years abroad, and had been hunting, on the 
25th of November, for the purpose of chasing sorrow as well as the 
game, when, on his return home, he insisted on eating a lamprey, 
against the orders of his physicians. The king did not agree with 
the doctors, and the lamprey did not agree with the king, who died 
on the 1st of December, 1135, at the age of sixty-seven. 

Henry's chief merit was his love of learning, which had got him 
the name of Beau-clcrc, or the pretty scholar. He loved the society 
of men of letters, and of wild beasts ; but the literary lions were, 
perhaps, his greatest favourites. He nevertheless desired that these 
lions should only roar in his praise ; for ho punished Luke de Bane, 
a poet, very severely for having written some satirical verses, in which 
the king was made a laughing-stock. The poet, according to Orderic, 
burst from the executioners and dashed out his brains, which had 
been the cause of giving offence to his sovereign 



CHAP IV. J STEPHEN. 81 



CHAPTER THE FOURTH. 

STEPHEN. 

If the oaths of tha bishops and barons had been worth even the 
ink expended in alluding to them, there might have been some chance 
of Matilda coming quietly to the throne on the death of Henry. The 
Anglo-Normans, ho waver, had as little respect for truth as for 
property, and were even destitute of the humbler virtue of gallantry 
towards the fair, for they began to clamour loudly against the notion 
of a woman reigning over them. 

Stephen, the late king's nephew, and Robert, Earl of Gloucester, 
the illegitimate son of Henry, were the two favourites in the race for 
the throne ; but the betting was at least ten to one upon the former, 
in consequence of his having married Maud, the daughter and heir 
of Eustace, Count of Boulogne. 

On the arrival of Stephen in England, he made at once for the 
treasury, which he cleared completely out, and he devoted the pro- 
ceeds to purchasing the fidelity, or rather the mercenary adherence, 
of the barons, prelates, and people. Having bribed a sufficiently 
numerous party, he procured a decent attendance at his coronation, 
which took place on St. Stephen's day, December 22, 1135, at West- 
minster. He sent a good round sum to the pope, Innocent the 
Second, whose innocence seems to have been chiefly nominal, for ho 
was guilty of accepting a bribe to give a testimonial in favour ol 
Stephen's title. As long as the money lasted the barons were tolerably 
faithful ; but " no plunder no allegiance " was the ordinary motto of 
the founders of those families whose present representatives trace 
themselves up, or rather bring themselves down, to the days of the 
Conquest. 

The Norman nobles complained that their perjury had not had its 
price, and began seizing various castles belonging to Stephen, who, by 
purchasing the services of other mercenaries, got his property back 
again. At length, however, a coalition was effected between Robert, 
Earl of Gloucester, and Matilda, his half-sister, who landed in England 
on the 1st of September, 1139, with a retinue of one hundred and forty 
knights, an empty purse, and very little credit. Several Normans ran tc 
meet Matilda on her arrival; but these high-minded founders of our 
very first families, hearing that there was no cash, returned to the 
side of Stephen. 

Matilda went on a visit to the Queen Dowager, Adelais, or Alice, 
at Arundel Castle, which was besieged by the king, who, however, 
respected the property on account of its owner, and sent Matilda in 
safety to join her half-brother Robert, at Bristol, whither he had gone 
with twelve followers in search of Bristol board — and lodging. 
Stephen, having exhausted the materials for making the golden links 
which had hitherto bound the Normans to his side, found them 
rapidly adhering to Matilda, whose expectations were not bad, though 
her present means were limited. 

G 



82 



COMIC HISTORl' OF ENGLAND. 



.BOOK II. 



On the 2nd of February, 1141, the king was besieging Lincoln when 
the whole of his cavalry wheeled- round to the side of the enemy. 
Relying on his infantry, he put himself at their head, but treachery 
was on foot as well as on horseback. He nevertheless fought des- 
perately, breaking his sword and battle-axe over the backs of his foes, 
till he was left fighting with the hilt of one weapon and the handle 
of the other. Having lost the use of his arms, he was surrounded by 
the enemy, but he continued alive and kicking till the last, when he 
was taken prisoner. He was cruelly thrown into a dungeon at Bristol, 
and in order that his muscular activity might be checked, he was 
loaded with irons. He still retained his cheerfulness, and may 
probably have been the original composer of the celebrated "hornpipe 
in fetters," which is occasionally danced by dramatic prisoners. 




£2£ 



King Stephen in Prison. 

Matilda now scraped together all the money she could, to purchase 
that very marketable commodity, the allegiance of the Norman nobles 
and prelates. Among the latter was Stephen's own brother, the 
Bishop of Winchester, who renounced his unfortunate relative, swore 
fidelity to Matilda, cursed all her enemies, and, as the price of all this 
swearing and cursing, received a large amount of church patronage. 
Not only did he crown his new mistress at Winchester, but he crowned 
his own baseness by a slashing speech against his own brother, 
winding up with a fulsome puff for the new queen, whom he hailed 
as " the sovereign lady of England and Normandy." Matilda was by 
no means successful in handling the sceptre, which required a stronger 
I and more dexterity than she was mistress of. The Londoners, 
in part'' aptoms of revolt, and the Bishop of Winchester 



CITAr. IV.] 



RELEASE OF STEPHEN. 



83 



Laving got all he could from the queen, turned round once more in 
favour of his brother. This episcopal roundabout was the first to set 
the example, so frequently followed in the present day, of blocking up 
the city ; and it is an odd fact that paving was his pretext, for he 
stopped up the London thoroughfares 
in order to pave the way for the return 
of his brother to power. 

Matilda, who was in town — probably 
for the season — contrived to make her 
escape by the western suburb, with a 
small retinue. Some of her knights 
quitted her at the bridge which still 
retains their name ; an earl or two fol- 
lowed her as far as Earl's Court ; some 
turned off at Turnham Green ; but by 
the time she had reached the little 
Wick of Chis, her party had dwindled 
down into absolute insignificance. Her 
brother Robert was taken prisoner, 
and Stephen being also in captivity, 
the two parties were brought to a 
deadlock for want of leaders. By 
negotiating a sort of Bill of Exchange, 
Robert was released, and Stephen was 
paid over, in the shape of "value 
received," to his own party. 

The Bishop of Winchester, who ap- 
pears to have been an exceedingly 
plausible mob orator, now made 
another speech, in which he showed 
a wonderful amount of face by regularly turning his back upon him- 
self, and unsaying all that he had said in favour of Maud, and against 
his brother on a former occasion. He swore and cursed as before, 
merely altering the name of the objects of his oaths and execrations, 
for he now swore allegiance to his brother instead of to Maud, and 
cursed the former's, instead of the lattcr's enemies. 

Stephen was accordingly raised, by the crane of circumstances, from 
the depth of his dungeon, and lifted on to his throne ; but he found a 
new rival in the person of Matilda's son, Prince Henry, so that he had 
now a woman and a boy, instead of a mere woman to fight against. 
Henry, in a spirit of calculation far beyond his years, married Eleanor, 
the divorced wife of Louis the Seventh ; but it was only for the sake of 
her money, which he expended in getting together an army for an attack 
upon England. The opposing forces met, but having already received 
their pay, they evinced a disposition to shirk their duty, and— like 
gentlemen of the bar, who having got their fees, propose that the 
matter should be referred to arbitration — the soldiers of Stephen and 
Henry recommended a quiet compromise. 

Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Stephen, Bishop of 
Winchester, were appointed referees, and it was agreed that Stephen 




A Clerical Weathercock. 



84 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[BOOK II. 



should wear the crown with remainder over to Henry. A good deal 
of homage was interchanged, for Henry swore fealty to Stephen, and 
tli 3 son of the latter swore ditto to Henry. The king in fact cut off 
his own tail for the benefit of his former enemy, and Henry took a 
kind of 2 WS ^ °bit as a consideration for his not pressing his claims to 
abbots, also exchanged affidavits, and swore in direct opposition to 
what they had sworn before, making altogether a mass of perjury that 
would have kept the Central Criminal Court occupied for half-a-dozen 
p.ntire sessions. Stephen, however, died at Dover, on the 25th of 
October, 1154, so that he did not live long under the new arrangement. 
The historian often finds himself awkwardly situated when called 
upon to give a character to a king, and there being a natural objection 
to written characters, the difficulty is greater on that account. It 
maybe said for Stephen, that he was sober and industrious, tolerably 
honest, not addicted to gluttony, or given to drink like many of his 
predecessors, and of course, therefore not so much accustomed to 
wait at table. He had a pleasing manner, and a good address, except 
while confined in prison, when his address was none of the pleasantest. 
On the whole, when w r e look at him as the paid servant of the public, 
we think him ill adapted for a steward, since England was always in 
confusion while under his care ; and as a coachman he was even 
worse, for he was quite unfitted to hold the reins of power. 



CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 



HENRY THE SECOND, SURNAMED PLANTAGENET. 



Finding 



ENRY, who was amusing himself with 
besieging a castle in Normandy when 
he heard of Stephen's death, soon 
repaired to England with his middle- 
aged wife, Eleanor. They were crowned 
on the 19th of December, 1154 ; but he 
had no sooner got the crown on his 
head, than he went to business, and 
commenced a series of sweeping re- 
forms. Finding the coinage reduced to 
a state of almost unutterable baseness, 
he issued a good supply of new money, 
and thus gave a fearful smash to the 
smashers. He drove out a quantity of 
foreign scamps, who had been made 
earls and barons in the reign of Stephen. 
After having enjoyed the fee-simple of 
castles and estates, they were sent back 
to take possession of the plough in tail, 
and to till as serfs the earth's surface, 
the royal income very much reduced, Henry restored it by 




[chap. v. gluttony op the MONKS OP ST. SW1TIIIN. 85 

taking back what his predecessors had given away ; an operation ho 
performed with so much impartiality, that he deprived his friends 
and his foes indiscriminately of all their possessions. 

The policy of Henry the Second, on coming to the throne, seems to 
have differed from that of most of his predecessors ; for while they had 
usually bought the allegiance of all the knaves and rogues about the 
court, he preferred the less costly process of rendering them perfectly 
powerless. He demolished many of the castles which had been 
erected by the barons, as fences rather than defences, for they were 
little better than receptacles for stolen property. Nor was he less 
vigorous in his measures against the clergy, for, like a skilful chess- 
player, he felt that it is better for the king that the bishops and the 
castles should be got out of the way when they are likely to prove 
troublesome. So far, therefore, from encouraging the exactions of 
the priesthood, he seems to have kept a supply of industrious fleas, 
for the purpose of putting one now and then into the ear of such of 
the clergy as came to make unreasonable requests to him. It is said 
that, on one occasion, the prior and monks of St. Swithin's threw 
themselves prostrate before the king imploring his protection 
against the Bishop of Winchester, who had cut off three meals a day 
from the ravenous fraternity. Henry perceiving that the monks were 
in tolerable condition, inquired how many meals were still left to 
them. "Only ten!" roared the prior, in recitative, while the rest 
of the party took up the words in dismal chorus. 

How they could have contrived to demolish thirteen meals a day is 
an enigma to us ; but the fact is a wondrous proof of monkish inge- 
nuity. In the days of ignorance all classes were prepared, no doubt, 
to swallow a great deal, but thirteen meals must have required a 
power of digestion and a force of appetite that throw into the shade 
even the aldermanic attainments of a more civilised period. Henry, 
who took nothing but his breakfast, dinner, and tea, was shocked 
and startled by the awful avowal of gluttony on the part of the monks 
of St. Swithin, whom he placed at once on a diet similar to his 
own, by reducing them to three meals per diem. It is probable that 
the monks crammed into three repasts the quantity they had con- 
sumed in thirteen, and thus eluded the force of the royal order. 

By a rigorous determination to " stand no nonsense," either with 
the clergy or the nobles, and by ordering the Flemish mercenaries of 
the army to the "right about," Henry seemed to commence his 
reign under very encouraging auspices. 

Not content with his successes at home, he sought to increase his 
influence abroad by taking Nantes, and he sent Thomas a Becket to 
Paris to bamboozle the French court, lest his encroachments should 
excite jealousy in that quarter. Thomas a Becket was the son of 
Mr. Gilbert a Becket, a respectable tradesman of the city of London ; 
and as his appears to be the first mercantile name on record, we are 
justified in calling him the Father of British Commerce. The chron- 
icles of the Times — and we are justified in relying on the united 
evidence of the Times and Chronicle — relate that Gilbert a Becket, 
in tne way of business, followed the army to Falestino. What hia 



8G 



COMIC HIST0HY OP ENGLAND. 



[l>OOK II. 



business could have been we are unable to guess, but as it took him 
to the camp, he may perhaps have been a dealer in camp stools, or 
teut bedsteads. Mr. Gilbert a Becket unfortunately became a 
prisoner, and being sold to a rich Mussulman, fell in love with a 
young Mussul girl, his master's daughter. The affection was mutual, 
and the child of the Mussulman strained every muscle, or, at all 
events, every nerve to effect the escape of Gilbert a Becket, who, in 
the hurry of his departure, forgot to take the lady away with him. 
It is not unlikely that he had got half-way to London before he 
missed the faithful girl, and it would then have been the height of 
imprudence to return for the purpose of repairing the oversight. His 




Henry the Second dismissing the Foreign Barons. 

inamorata made the best of her way after him, and arriving in 
London, ran about the streets, exclaiming, "Gilbert! Gilbert! " thus, 
acting as her own crier, instead of putting the matter into the hands 
of the regular bellman. 

The fact of a young woman continually traversing the great 
metropolis with Gilbert in her mouth, soon reached the ears of Mi-. 
a Becket, who found the female in distress and his own Saracen maid 
to be the same individual. Oneof those frantic recognitions occurred, 
in which a rapid dialogue of "No!" "Yes!" " It can't be ! " "It 
is!" "My long-lost Sara—!" " My Gil— ! " is spasmodically were, 
through, and the couple having rushed into each other's arms, gone 



CHAP. V.1 THOMAS A BUCKET'S PROGRESS THROUGH FRANCE. 87 

soon bound together by that firmest of locks familiarly known as wed- 
lock. The fruit of their union was the celebrated Thomas, of whose 
career we are enabled from peculiar sources to furnish some interest- 
ing particulars. 

Gilbert was determined to give his boy Tom a good education, and 
sent him to school at Merton Abbey, where a limited number of young 
gentlemen from three to eight were lodged, boarded, and birched — 
when necessary — at a moderate stipend. Young Tom was removed 
from Merton to a classical and commercial academy in London, 
which he quitted for Oxford, and he was ultimately sent to Paris to 
undergo the process of French polishing. While yet a young man, 
he got a situation in the office of the sheriff, and became, of course, 
a sheriff's officer; in which capacity he arrested, among other 
things, the attention of Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury. His 
patron took young a Becket from the ad captandum pursuits in which 
he had been engaged, put him into the Church, gave him rapid prefer- 
ment, and introduced him to the parties at the palace, which had, in 
those days, sufficient accommodation for the family and friends of 
royalty. Mr. a Becket became chancellor of the kingdom, 
though he never held a brief, or had even been called to the 
bar ; and he was appointed tutor to the Boyal Family, in which office 
he no doubt had the assistance of the Usher of the Black Rod. Of 
course, with his multiplicity of offices and occupations, it may be pre- 
sumed that Mr. a Becket made a very excellent thing of it. His house 
was a palace, he drank nothing but the best wine, employed none but 
the best tailors, and when he went to Paris he took four-and-twenty 
changes of apparel — which may, perhaps, have been after all nothing 
more than two dozen shirts — so that he had a different costume for 
every hour of the day. In his progress through France he was pre- 
ceded by two hundred and fifty boys, or charity children, singing 
national songs. These were followed by his dogs, in couples, who no 
doubt gave tongue, and made a sort of barking accompaniment to the 
music that went before. 

Eight waggons came next, carrying his clothes and his crockery, 
his cooking apparatus, his bed and bedding, and his suite ; when 
after a few led horses, some knights with their esquires, and 
some monkeys a cheval with a groom behind, on his knees, came 
a Becket himself and his familiar friends.* His entry into a town was 
more like that of an equestrian troop about to establish a circus than 
that of the Chancellor of England travelling in his master's behalf. He 
lived on terms of the closest intimacy with the king, who made him 
Archbishop of Canterbury, but not until thirteen months after the 
death of Theobald the First, for Henry always kept a good appointment 
open as long as he could, that he might put the revenues into his 
own pocket. 

From the time of his promotion to the see of Canterbury, a Becket 
oecame an altered man. He cut his gay companions, discharged his 
ilief da cuisine, discontinued his dealings v»ith his West-End tailor, 

* Vide Fitz-Stephen, Secretary and Biographer of Thomas a Becket. 



88 



COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND 



[BOOK II. 



and took to a kind of cheap blouse made of the coarsest sackcloth. He 
abandoned his sumptuous mode of living and drank water made unsa- 
voury by herbs, victimising himself probably with cups of camomile 
tea, and copious doses of senna. But the most serious change in 
a Becket's conduct, was his altered behaviour to the king, whom he 
had previously backed in all his attacks on the Church revenues. The 
new archbishop stood up for all the privileges of the clergy, and a 
difference of opinion between a Becket and the king, as to the right 
to try a delinquent clergyman in the civil courts, led to the summoning 
of a council of nobles and prelates (a.d. 1164) at Clarendon. Some 
rules were drawn up, called the " Constitutions of Clarendon," which 
a Becket reluctantly agreed to sign ; but Pope Alexander having re- 
jected them, the archbishop withdrew his name from the list of 
subscribers. 

Finding the vengeance of the king likely to prove too much for him, 
a Becket quitted the kingdom, and was very hospitably entertained 
during his stay on the Continent. 



A. 




Cilbcrt ;t Becket. 



Thomas :'i Becket. 



After an absence of about seven years, he returned in consequence 
of the king of France and others having persuaded Henry to make it 
up, though the reconciliation was never very cordial. Though 
a Becket was received with shouts of approbation by the mob, he 
was greeted, on his arrival, with menacing signs and abusive language 
from the aristocracy. 

There was a strong party against him at court, and one evening, 
at about tea-time, Henry and a few nobles were sitting round the 
palace fire, gossipingover the subject of aBecket's awful insolence. The 
king burst into a furious diatribe, stigmatising the archbishop as a 
beggar, and winding up with the suggestive observation that, " Not 
one of the cowards I nourish at my table — not one will deliver me 
from this turbulent priest." Four knights who were present took the 
royal hint, and gave the archbishop a call at his house in Canterbury, 
where having seated themselves unceremoniously on the floor, they 
got to high words very speedily. The archbishop refused to yield to 



CttAP. V.] MURDER OF A. BECKET. 89 

low abuse, and went in the evening to vespers as usual. The feelings 
of the historian will not allow him to dwell much upon the denouement 
of the drama in which a Becket had played the principal character. 
Suffice it to say, he was murdered in Canterbury Cathedral by four 
assassins, of whom Fitzurse — the son of a bear — was one, and 
Mireville, a name suggestive of mire and villainy was another. The 
two remaining butchers were Britto, of Saxon descent, a low fellow, 
familiarly termed the Brick, and Tracey, who is not worth the trouble 
of tracing. 

When Henry heard of this dreadful deed, he went without his 
dinner for three days, during which period he shut himself up in his 
own room, and refused to be " at home " to anyone. 

By way of diverting his melancholy, he determined on joining in 
an Irish row, and finding the chiefs of the five principalities into which 
Ireland was divided at cross purposes, he espoused the cause of 
Dermot Mc Murrough, who seems to have been what the Milesians 
would term the ' ' biggest blackguard " amongst them. Henry gave him 
a letter authorising him to employ any of the subjects of England that 
happened to be disengaged ; and three ruined barons, with damaged 
reputations, chancing to be out of work in the neighbourhood of 
Bristol, were offered terms by Dermot. This precious trio consisted 
of two brothers, named Bobert Fitz-Stephen and Maurice Fitz-Gerald, 
and Bichard de Clare, Earl of Pembroke, surnamed Strongbow, 
though, as he was greatly addicted to falsehood, Longbow would have 
been a more appropriate name for him. 

After talking the matter over for some time without any arrange- 
ment being come to, Strongbow cut the matter short by exclaiming, 
" I'll tell you what it is. If I'm to fight for your kingdom, I must 
have it myself when you have done with it. You must make me 
your heir, and, as a security that you will perform your part of 
the agreement, I must marry your daughter." Dermot, though 
rather taken aback by this proposal, invited Strongbow to a quiet 
chop, over which the latter's terms were acceded to ; and the ruined 
baron, feeling that it was " neck or nothing " with him, succeeded in 
making it " neck " by the ardour with which he entered into the con- 
test. Though he set to work in the spring of the year, his vengeance 
was truly summary, and in a few months he had restored everything 
to Dermot, who happened conveniently to die, and Strongbow came 
in for all that he had been fighting for. 

Henry having become jealous, Strongbow thought it good policy 
not to overshoot the mark, and came to England to offer allegiance. 
The king at first refused to see hinvand on calling at Newnham, in 
Gloucestershire, where Henry was staying, he was kept for some time 
eating humble-pie in the passage with the hall-porter. Strongbow 
having been sufficiently bent by this treatment, was at length asked 
to step up, and it was arranged that he should accompany the king to 
Ireland, surrender his possessions, and consent to hold them as the 
vassal of the English sovereign 

On his return to England, Henry, who had four sons, began to find 
" the. boys " exceedingly troublesome. Thei: mother, once the middle- 



% 



COMTC ItlKtORY OF ENGLAND. 



[book It 



aged, but now the ancient Eleanor, had grown cross as well as 
venerable ; and being exceedingly jealous of her husband, encouraged 
his own sons to worry him. Her jealousy had become a perfect 
nuisance ; and jealousy is unfortunately one of those nuisances which 
never get abated. 

A story is told of a certain Fair Eosamond ; and, though there is 
no doubt of its being a story from beginning to end, it is impossible 
to pass it over in an English History. Henry, it is alleged, was 



/»\ 




Queen Eleanor and Fair Kosamond. 

enamoured of a certain Miss Clifford— if she can be called a certain 
Miss Clifford, who was really a very doubtful character. She had 
been the daughter of a baron on the banks of the Wye, whin, without 
a why or a wherefore, the king took her away, and transplanted the 
Flower of Hereford, as she well deserved to be called, to the Bower 
of Woodstock. In this Bower he constructed a labyrinth, something 
like the maze at Eosherville ; and as there was no man stationed on 
an elevation in the centre to direct the sovereign with a pole which 
way to go, nor exclaim, "Eight, if you please!" "Straight on!" 
" You're right now, sir ! " " Left ! " " Eight again ! " etc. etc., his 



chap, v.] henry's visit to a becket's tomb. 91 

majesty had adopted the plan of dragging one of Eosamond's reels 
of silk along with him when he left the spot, so that it formed a guide 
to him on his way back again. 

This tale of the silk is indeed a most precious piece of entangle- 
ment ; but it was perhaps necessary for the winding up of the story. 
While we cannot receive it as part of the thread of history, we 
accept it as a means of accounting for Eleanor having got a clue to 
the retreat of Eosamond. 

The queen, hearing of the silk, resolved naturally enough to unravel 
it. She accordingly started for Woodstock one afternoon, and, sus- 
pecting something wrong, took a large bowl of poison in one hand, and 
a stout dagger in the other. Having found Fair Eosamond, she held 
the poignard to the heart, and the bowl to the lips of that unfortunate 
young person, who, it is said, preferred the black draught to the steel 
medicine. 

That such a person as Fair Eosamond existed is perfectly true, for 
she was buried at Godstow, near Oxford. The sensitive heart, which 
is ever anxious to inundate the page of sorrow with a regular Niagara 
of tears, is however earnestly requested to turn off the rising supply 
from the main of pity, for it is agreed on all hands that the death of 
Eosamond was perfectly natural. It has been convenient for the ro- 
mancists to cut short her existence by drowning it in the bowl ; but 
truth compels us to add, that there is no ground for such a conclusion. 

Henry devoted the remainder of his life to quarrelling, first with 
one of his children, then the other, and every now and then with all 
of them. He fully intended to divide his possessions among them; 
but they most unreasonably required to be let into possession before 
the death of the governor. The eldest ran away to France, and 
Eleanor bad actually put on male attire, with the intention of aban- 
doning Henry, w r hen, unfortunately for him, he w r as silly enough to 
have her imprisoned for the purpose of stopping her. " Why didn't 
you let her go?" was the frequent exclamation of his intimate friends 
to the king, and a melancholy " Ha ! I wish I had," was the only 
reply he was able to make them. 

Finding himself threatened on all sides, and when he had exhausted 
every other expedient, he resolved on trying what penitence could do 
for him. His conscience no doubt often reminded him of the murder 
of poor a, Becket, to whose shrine the king determined on making a 
pilgrimage. Purchasing some split peas, he put about a pint in each 
of his stockings, and started for Canterbuiw, where he threw himself 
madly upon a Becket's tomb, sobbing, yelling and shrieking in the most 
pitiable manner. Nor was this enough, for he threw off his robe, and 
insisted on receiving the lash from about eighty ecclesiastics. Though 
they administered the punishment so lightly that the cat caused only 
a few scratches, the peculiar circumstances attending it cause it to 
stand out in history as j)ar excellence " the great flogging case." 

The ecclesiastical authorities at Canterbury taking advantage ot 
Henry's softened heart, which seems to have been accompanied by a 
sad softness of head, succeeded in extracting from him a promissory 
note to pay forty pounds a year for keeping lights constantly burning 



92 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGIAND. [BOOK II. 

on the tomb of a, Becket. There can be no doubt that the contract 
for lighting was taken cheaply enough by some tradesman of the town, 
and that the surplus went into the clerical coffers. Posterity regards 
with disgust the effrontery of the monks in making — for the sake of a 
few dips — such an enormous dip into the purse of the sovereign. 

From this time affairs began to menc 1 ; and it would seem that thc> 
whipping his majesty had suffered had whipped his misfortunes com- 
pletely out of him. If the king had been an old carpet the beating 
he received could not have proved more beneficial than it did, for it 
seemed to revive the brighter colours of his existence. He employed 
the peace he now enjoyed in carrying out some political reforms, 
divided England into six circuits, so that Justice might be brought 
home to every man's door ; though, like everything else that is brought 
home to one's door, it must be paid for — sometimes after a little credit, 
but sometimes on delivery. He abolished the criminal tariff, by 
which it had been allowable for the rich to commute their offences, 
according to a certain scale of charges. Family quarrels unfortunately 
called him away from these wholesome pursuits, and his eldest son 
died of a fever brought on in consequence of a disagreement with his 
younger brother, Eichard. Prince Henry expired on the 11th of 
June, 1183, in the twenty-seventh year of his age. Such was his 
remorse, that, according to Eoger Hoveden, he insisted on his at- 
tendants tying a rope to his foot and taking him in tow, until they 
dragged him out of his bed, in order to deposit him on a bed of ashes. 
This particular desire to die in a dusthole was accompanied by a re- 
quest for a reconciliation with his father, who sent a ring as a token 
of forgiveness, with a message that he hoped the invalid might come, 
like the ring, completely round. 

On the death of their elder brother, Richard and Geoffrey still con- 
tinued to show fight against their father ; who at length got so much 
the worst of it, that he was obliged to make the best of it by coming 
to a compromise. By one of the conditions he was to pardon all the 
insurgent barons, and having called for a list of them, found at the 
bottom of it the name of his favourite son John. This was too much 
for the persecuted parent, who flew into a furious passion, which he 
vented in the customary manner of royalty at that period, by pouring 
out a volley of execrations with frightful fluency. He jumped on to 
his bed, and, falling back upon it, turned round to the wall, exclaiming 

" Now then, let everthing go as it will." Several ministers, 

priests, bishops, prelates, and barons were in attendance, under 
pretence of receiving his last sigh, but really with the intention of 
robbing him of his last shilling, for they rifled his pockets directly 
life was extinct. 

The reign of Henry, though not very comfortable to himself, was 
undoubtedly beneficial to his country. He introduced many improve- 
ments into the law, and was the first to levy a tax on the goods of 
nobles as well as commoners, for the service of the state. He died 
at the Castle of Chinon, near Saumur, on the 6th of July, 1189, in 
the fifty-sixth year of his age. He left behind him a good name, 
which those who stole his purse were fortunately not able to filch 



chap, vi.] coronation op bichard the first. 



93 



from him. His wife caused all the quarrels in his family, showing 
that a firebrand may grow oub of a very bad match. Eleanor was 
indeed a female Lucifer, lighting up the flame of discord between 
parent and children, until death gave her husband the benefit of a 
divorce. 



CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 



RICHARD THE FIRST, SURNAMED CCEUR DE LION. 




ICHARD having secured the crown 
began to look after the cash, and 
pounced upon an unhappy old man 
named Stephen, of Tours, who had 
acted as treasurer to Henry the 
Second. The new king, not satisfied 
with cashiering the cashier, arrested 
him and threw him into prison, until 
he had given up not only all the late 
king's money, but had parted with 
every penny of his own, which was 
extracted in the shape of costs from 
the unfortunate victim. 

Richard, on arriving in England, 
made for "Winchester, where the 
sovereigns were in the habit of 
keeping their plate and jewels, all of 
which were turned at once into ready 
money in order to enable him to carry on the war, which he was 
very anxious to do, as a crusader in Palestine. It would seem that 
the treasury was regularly emptied at the commencement of every 
new reign, and filled again as speedily as possible by exactions on the 
people. 

The coronation of Richard, which took place on the 3rd of Sep- 
tember, 1189, was disgraced by an attack upon the Jews, who came 
to offer presents, which were eagerly received ; but the donors were 
kicked out of Westminster Hall with the most ruthless violence. 
Nearly all the Jews in London were savagely murdered, all their 
houses were burnt and all their property stolen ; when Richard 
issued a proclamation, in which he stated that he took them under 
his gracious protection : an act which would have been more gracious 
if it had come before instead of after the extermination of the ill-used 
Israelites. 

How to go to Palestine was, however, the king's sole care ; and to 
raise the funds for this trip he sold everything he possessed, as well 
as a great deal that rightfully belonged to others. He put up towns, 
castles, and fortresses to public auction, knocking down not only the 



94 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOB II. 

property itself but those also who offered any remonstrance, or put 
in any claim to the goods he was disposing of. Such was his deter- 
mination to clear off everything without reserve, that he swore he 
would put up London itself if he could find a bidder — an assertion 
that was very likely to put up the citizens. 

Some of the castles he sold two or three times over, leaving the 
purchasers to settle among themselves which should be the possessor 
of the property that had been paid for by every one of them. It is 
not unlikely that he caused glowing advertisements to be prepared, 
of " Little Paradises," standing "in their own fortifications;" and 
that he would have described a dead wall with a moat before it as 
" Elysium on a small scale," entrenched behind its own battlements. 
There can be little doubt that he would also have dilated in glowing 
terms upon the wealth of the neighbourhood offering unlimited 
pillage to an enterprising purchaser. 

Eichard's presence-chamber was, according to Sir Francis Palgrave, 
a regular market-overt, in which prerogatives and bounties were to 
be purchased by any one coming with the money to pay for them. 
We can fancy a table laid out with a number of patents of nobility, 
labelled with a large ticket, announcing, " All these titles at an 
enormous sacrifice." We can imagine a row of velvet robes and 
coronets hanging up under a placard inscribed " Dukedoms at a con- 
siderable reduction;" while we can contemplate a quantity of 
knights' helmets lying in the window, marked at a very low figure, 
after the manner of the five thousand straw bonnets offered to the 
public by some dashing haberdasher at the commencement of 
the spring season. 

Eichard even went so far as to announce the stock of vacant 
bishoprics as "selling off;" and it is not improbable that he may 
have caused tasteful arrangements of mitres and lawn sleeves to be 
arranged in different parts of the presence-chamber, to tempt the 
ambition of ecclesiastical purchasers. He likewise sold his own 
good-will for three thousand marks to his half-brother Geoffrey, who 
had been elected Archbishop of York ; and wherever there was a 
penny to be turned, Eichard had the knack of turning it. 

_ Having left the regency in the hands of one Hugh Pudsey, the 
king repaired to France to meet Philip, who was to be his companion 
to Palestine. Their united forces amounted to a hundred thousand 
men ; but Eichard and Philip did not travel together farther than 
Lyons, and indeed it was as well they did not, for they were almost 
continually quarrelling. Numerous adventures befel Eichard on his 
way ; but the most awkward was his being dunned by the cardinal 
bishop of Ostia — where he had put in to repair — for a debt due to 
the see of Eome, on account of bulls and other papal articles. 

Cceur de Lion, instead of discharging the bill, abused and ill- 
treated the applicant, and made the best of his way to Naples, before 
there was time for ulterior proceedings. He went thence to Sicily, 
where his quarrel with Philip was renewed, and the latter demanded 
an explanation of Eichard's refusal to marry the princess Aliz, the 
French king's sister. Occur de Lion, who had really formed another 



CHAP. VI.] RICHARD ARRIVES IN PALESTINE. 97 

attachment, excused himself by blackening the character of the lady 
to whom he had been engaged, and her chivalrous brother agreed to 
take two thousand marks a year, as a compromise for the breach of 
promise of marriage which Eichard had committed. "Such," 
exclaims Hume — and well he may — "were the heroes of this pious 
enterprise." 

The Princess Aliz or Alice, having been regularly thrown overboard 
by the bargain between her own brother and her late lover, the latter 
was at liberty to follow his inclination by marrying Berengaria, 
daughter of the king of Navarre, with whom he had had a flirtation 
as early as during his residence at Guienne. Taking with him his 
latest affianced, he set sail for Palestine ; but his ship being cast ashore 
at Cyprus, and plundered by the natives, he waited to chastise the 
people, and imprison an elderly person named Isaac, who called him- 
self the emperor. He then ran off with the old man's only daughter, 
in addition to the princess of Navarre, whom he had the coolness to 
marry on the very spot from which he had seized this new addition 
to the female part of his establishment. The only reparation offered 
to the father was a set of silver fetters to wear instead of the common 
iron he had at first been thrown into. 

Eichard at length arrived in Palestine, and was not long in getting 
to work against the forces of Saladin, who, leading forth his bat- 
talions, mounted on their real Jerusalem ponies, proved exceedingly 
harassing. 

Among the events of the crusade undertaken for the promotion of 
Christianity, on the side of the Lion Heart, his beheading of five 
thousand Turkish prisoners stands conspicuous. This act of barbarity 
arose out of some misunderstanding on the subject of a truce, and 
Saladin, by way of making matters square, slaughtered about an 
equal number of captive Christians. Such were the heroic defenders 
of the Cross on one side and the Crescent on the other. It is gener- 
ally a libel to compare a human being to a brute, but in giving the 
title of Lion Heart to Eichard, the noble beast is the party scandalised. 
It is surprising that the British lion has never cited this as one of 
his numerous gi'ievances, for he would certainly have a capital action 
for defamation if he were to sue by his next friend or in formd 
pauperis for this malicious imputation on his noble character. 

On the 7th of September, 1191, the two chiefs came to a general 
engagement, near Azotus, about nine miles from Ascalon. Eichard's 
prowess was tremendous ; but, after himself, the most striking object 
was his battle-axe. This wondrous weapon had been forged in 
England by the very best Smiths, and there were twenty pounds of 
steel in the head, formed into a tremendous nob, which fell with 
fearful force on the nobs of his enemies. His battle-axe divided with 
him the attention of all beholders, and he divided the turbans of the 
foe with his battle-axe. The weapons of the Crusaders were certainly 
better adapted for havoc than those of the Saracens, who seem to 
have fought with an instrument less calculated for milling men than for 
milling chocolate. The armour of the knights was also more effective 
than that of their adversaries ; for while the former had their heads 

H 



98 COMIC IIISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK II, 

comfortably secured in articles made on the principle of rushlight 
shades, with holes for seeing and breathing through, the partisans of 
the Crescent wore little more upon their heads than might have been 
supplied by the folding of a sheet or tablecloth into the form of a 
turban. The result was that Saladin was compelled to fly, with a 
loss of seven thousand men and thirty-two emirs, which so diminished 
his stock of officers that he was almost reduced, according to an old 
chronicler, to his very last emir-gency. 

Richard went on to Jaffa, where he w r as delayed by an artful 
proposition to negotiate until the rainy weather set in ; and he had 
to start off during November, in the midst of incessant showers. 
The Crusaders got regularly soaked ; and being caught in the middle 
of the plain of Sharon with no place, not even a doorway, they could 
stand up under, they tried to pitch a tent, which was instantly pitched 
down by the fury of the elements. Their arms became perfectly 
rusty, and their horses, not liking the wet, got rusty also. Their 
provisions were all turned into water souchet, and indeed the spirit of 
the Crusaders became weakened by excessive dilution in the pelting 
showers. 

The energies of Eichard and his companions were of course con- 
siderably damped ; but a positive inundation would scarcely have 
quenched the fire of chivalry. Cceur de Lion retreated to Ascalon, 
the fortifications of which he found had been dismantled; but he 
worked to restore them like a common mason, mixing mortar on his 
shield for want of a hod, and using his axe as a substitute for a 
trowel. All the men of rank followed his example, except the Duka 
of Austria, who declared that he had not been brought up to it ; upon 
which Cceur de Lion kicked him literally through the breach in tha 
fortification he had refused to repair, and turned him out of the town 
with all his vassals. 

After a most uncomfortable sojourn in Palestine, Eichard opened 
a negotiation with Saladin; and the ardour of both having been 
rather cooled, a truce was concluded. It was to last three years, 
three months, three weeks, and three days, the discussion on the 
subject occupying about three hours, the writing out the agree- 
ment three minutes, and the signing three seconds. 

Taking advantage of the truce, Eichard quitted Palestine for 
England ; but sending the ladies home in a ship, he started to walk 
in the disguise of a pilgrim by way of Germany. Though his 
costume was humble his expenditure was lavish ; and having sent a 
boy into the market-place of Vienna to buy some provisions, the 
splendid livery of the page, and his abundance of cash, excited 
suspicion as to the rank of his master. The secret of the Lion Heart 
was kept for some time by the faithful tiger, but he was at length 
forced into a confession, and Eichard was arrested on the 20th of 
December, 1193, by the very Duke of Austria whom he had some 
time before kicked unceremoniously out of Ascalon. 

The Emperor Henry the Sixth claimed the royal captive as a 
prize, and Eichard was locked up in a German dungeon with German 
shutters, and fed alternately on German rolls and German sausages, 



CHAI\ 



VI.] 



IMPRISONMENT OF RICHARD THE FIRST. 



99 



while his enemies were doing their worst at home and abroad to 
deprive him of his sovereignty. 

There is a legend attached to the incident of Richard's captivity, 
which has the slight disadvantage of being altogether fabulous, and 
we therefore insert it — under protest — in the pages of our faithful 
history. The story runs that the Lion Heart, who was fond of music, 
and had a tolerable voice, used to amuse himself and his gaolers by 
singing some of the most popular ballads of the period. It happened 
that Blondel, one of his favourite minstrels, of whom he had probably 
taken lessons in happier hours, was on an ambulatory tour, for pro- 




Blondel, the Minstrel, tinder the Walls of Richard's Prison. 

fessional purposes, when he chanced to tune his clarionet and clear 
his throat, with the intention of " striking up " under the walls of 
Richard's prison. At that moment the Lion Heart had just been 
called upon for a song, and his voice issued in a large octavo volume 
from the window of his dungeon. The tones seemed familiar to the 
minstrel, but when there came a tremendous trill on the low G, 
followed by a succession of roulades on A flat, with an abrupt modu- 
lation from the minor to the major key, Professor Blondel instantly 
recognised the voice of his royal pupil. The wandering minstrel, 
without waiting for the song to terminate, broke out into a magni- 

II— 2 



100 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK II. 

ficcnt sol fa, and the king at once remembering the style of his old 
master, responded by going through some exercises for the voice which 
he had been in the habit of practising. Blondel having ascertained 
the place of his sovereign's confinement, had the prudence to " copy 
the address," and went away, determining to do his utmost for the 
release of Richard. "I wish," thought the professor, as he retired 
from the spot, "that those iron bars were bars of music, for then I 
could show him how they are to be got through ; or would that any 
of the keys of which I am master would unlock the door of his prison ! " 
With these two melancholy puns, induced by the sadness of his re- 
flections, Blondel hastened from the spot, and repaired to England 
with tidings of the missing monarch. 

Such is the romantic little story that is told by those greatest of 
story-tellers, the writers of history. 

Richard was at length brought up for examination before the Diet 
of Worms ; and though several charges were alleged against him, he 
pleaded his own cause with so much address, that he was discharged 
on payment of a fine of one hundred and fifty thousand marks, being 
about three hundred thousand pounds of our money. He at once 
put down thirteen and fourpence in the pound, giving good bills and 
hostages for the remainder ; but the amount was soon raised by taxes 
and voluntary contributions from the English people. Churches 
melted down their plate, people born with silver spoons in their mouths 
came forward with zeal, whether the article happened to be a gravy, 
a table, a dessert, or a tea ; and the requisite sum was raised to re- 
lease him from captivity. He arrived in England on the 20th of 
March, 1194, and was enthusiastically welcomed home, where he got 
up another coronation of himself, by way of furnishing an outlet for 
the overflowing loyalty of the people. As if desirous of taming it 
down a little, he made some heavy demands upon their pockets ; but 
nothing seemed capable of damping the ardour of the nation, which 
appeared ready to give all it possessed in change for this single 



sovereign . 



About the middle of May, 1194, Richard revisited Barfieur, with 
the intention of chastising his brother John — who had shown symptoms 
of usurpation in his absence — and the Erench king, Philip. John, 
like a coward, flew to his mamma — the venerable Eleanor — requesting 
her to intercede for him. The old lady wrote a curt epistle, con- 
cisting of the words, " Dear Dick — Forgive Jack. Yours ever, Nell ;" 
and John having fallen at the feet of Richard, was contemptuously 
kicked aside with a free pardon. Against the French king, however, 
several battles were fought, with fluctuating success, though Richard's 
fortunes now and then received a fillip which caused Philip to get 
the worst of it. A truce was concluded on the 23rd of July, 1194, 
but London beginning to rebel, cut out fresh work for Lion Heart. 
The discontented cockneys had for their leader one William Fitz- 
Osbert, commonly called Longbeard, who complained of the citizens 
having been so closely shaved by taxation ; and Longbeard even 
dared to beard the sovereign himself, by going to the Continent to 
remonstrate with Richard. The patriot made one of those clap- trap 



CHAf. V1.1 LONGBEARD — BlCHARD'S DEATH-WOUND. 101 

speeches for which mob-orators have in all ages been famous, and 
demanded for the poor that general consideration which really 
amounts to nothing particular. Eichard promised that the matter 
should be looked into, but nothing was done — except the people and 
their advocate. In the year 1196 Longbeard originated the practice 
of forming political associations, and got together no less than fifty- 
two thousand members, who swore to stand by him as the advocate 
and saviour of the poor ; an oath which ended in their literally 
standing by him and seeing him savagely butchered by his enemies. 
He was taking a quiet walk with only nine adherents, when he was 
dodged by a couple of citizens, who had been watching him for 
several days, and who pretended to be enjoying a stroll, until they 
got near enough to enable them to seize the throat of Longbeard. 
This movement instantly raised his choler, and drawing his knife, be 
succeeded in cutting completely away. He sought refuge in the 
church of St. Mary of Arches, which he barricaded for four days, but 
he was at last taken, stabbed, dragged at a horse's tail to the Tower, 
and forwarded by the same conveyance to Smithfield, where he was 
hanged on a gibbet, with the nine unfortunates who had been the 
companions of his promenade. The mob, who had stood by him 
while he was thus cruelly treated, pretended to look upon him as a 
martyr directly ho was dead. This, however, seems to have been 
the result of interested motives, for they stole the gibbet, and cut it 
up into relics, which were sold at most exorbitant prices; so that, by 
making a saint of him, they gave a value to the gallows which they 
purloined. It is possible that they were not particular as to the 
genuineness of the article, so long as there was any demand for little 
bits of Longbeard's gibbet. 

Eichard was now engaged in almost continual quarrels with Philip, 
which were only suspended by occasional want of money to pay tha 
respective barons, who always struck, or rather, refused to strike at 
all, when they could not get their wages. In the year 1198, hostilitiea 
were renewed with great vigour, and a battle was fought near Gisors, 
where Philip was nearly drowned by the breaking of a bridge, in 
consequence of the enormous weight of the fugitives. In his bulletin, 
Eichard insultingly alluded to the quantity of the river the French 
king had been compelled to drink, and hinted, that as he was full of 
water it was quite fair to make a butt of him. 

This was Coeur de Lion's "positively last appearance" in any 
combat. A truce was concluded, and Eichard quitted Normandy for 
the Limousin, where it was said in one of the popular ballads of the 
day, that the point of the arrow was being forged for the death of tho 
tyrant. Many dispute the point, and believe the story to be forged ; 
but certain it is, that Henry, the father of Eichard, had frequently 
been shot at by an arrow, and had had, according to a lame pun of 
the period, many a-n-arrow escape from the hands of his secret 
enemies. According to the usual version of Cceur de Lion's death, it 
seems that he went with an armed force to demand of Yidomar, 
Viscount of Limoges, a treasure, said to have been found in the 
domains of the latter. The viscount claimed halves, which Eichard 



102 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[HOOK II. 



refused, and with a loud cry of — " All or none," threatened to hang 
every man of the garrison. The king was surveying the walls to 
ascertain an eligible place for the assault, and had just raised his 
eyes, exclaiming — "Here's a weak point," when the point of an 
arrow came whizzing along, and stuck in his left shoulder. Eichard 
making some passing allusion to this novel mode of shouldering arms, 
took little notice of the wound, but went on with the assault, and 
soon seized the castle. 

The business of the day being concluded, he sent for a surgeon, 
who took out the point of the arrow somewhat clumsily, causing 
Eichard to remark, in allusion to the bungling manner in which the 
operation had been performed, that it could not be called a very 
elegant extract. The wound, though slight, became worse from ill- 
treatment ; and the king, feeling that there were no hopes of his 
recovery, would only reply to the encouraging remarks of his atten- 
dants by pointing mournfully yet significantly over his left shoulder. 

It is said that he sent for Bertrand de Gourdon, the youth that 
inflicted the wound, and let him off for letting off the bow ; but it is 
impossible to say what truth there is in this anecdote. The MS. 




Bertrand dc Gourdon before Klehard. 

chronicle of Winchester says that Eichard's sister Joan expressed a 
fcruly female wish to have the prisoner given to her, that she might 



CHAP. VI. | 



DEATH OF HICHAKD. 



103 



" tear his eyes out," and that she literally put in force this threat 
which so many women are heard to make, but which not one of the 
sex was ever known to execute. 

Eichard died on Tuesday, the 6th of April, 1199, after a reign of 
ten years, not one of which had been passed in England, for he had 
led the life of a royal vagabond. He died at forty-two, and it is a 
remarkable fact, says one of the chroniclers — whom for the sake of 
his reputation we will not name — that, though Eichard lived to be 
forty-two, forti-tude was the only virtue he had ever exhibited. He 
loved the name of Lion 
Heart, and he certainly 
deserved a title that in- 
dicated his possession of 
brutish qualities. The 
British lion might, in jus- 
tice to his own character, 
repudiate all connection 
with this contemptible 
Coeur de Lion, who had 
at least as much cruelty 
as courage, and who had 
murdered many more in 
cold blood when prisoners 
than he had ever killed on 
the field of battle. His 
slaughter of the three 
thousand Saracen captives 
must be regarded as a 
proof, that, whatever of 
the lion he might have 
had in his disposition, he 

had not much of the Arrival of Richard's Legacy at Rouen. 

heart. This, however, 

such as it was, he never gave to England in his lifetime, and he left 
it to Eouen at his death, being certainly the very smallest and most 
valueless legacy he could possibly have bequeathed. 




104 



COMrC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[HOOK U. 



CHAPTER TITE SEVENTH. 




JOnN, STJRNAMED SANSTERRE, OR LACKLAND. 

OHN, who was in Normandy when 
Richard died, made every effort 
to secure that gang of humbugs, 
the mercenaries, by sending over 
to offer them an increase of 
salary, with the view of prevent- 
ing them from taking engage- 
ments in the cause of his nephew, 
Arthur, the child of his elder 
brother, Geoffrey. Hubert 

Walter, the Archbishop of 
Canterbury, was despatched to 
England, to obtain the services 
of the barons by the usual means ; 
and John himself repaired to 
Chinon, to ransack the castle 
where Richard had kept his 
treasures. Having chastised a 
few citizens for supporting Arthur, he repaired to Rouen, where on 
Sunday, the 25th of April, 1199, he was bedizened with the sword 
and coronal of the duchy. The English were not much disposed to 
favour the claims of John, but Archbishop Hubert purchased a few 
oaths of allegiance from the barons and prelates, who for the usual 
consideration were always ready to swear fealty to anyone. 

John landed at Shoreham on the 25th of May, and on the 27th he 
knocked at the church door of St. Peter's, Westminster, to claim the 
crown. He seems to have encountered a tolerably numerous congre- 
gation, whom he endeavoured to convince by pulling out of his pocket 
an alleged will made in his favour by his brother Richard, and some 
other documents, which, backed by a speech from Archbishop Hubert, 
set everybody shouting " Long live the king ! " 

Poor little Arthur was completely overlooked in this arrangement, 
for he had scarcely anyone to take his part but a noisy scolding 
mother, who bore the name of Constance, probably on account of her 
shameful inconstancy. She had married a third husband while her 
second was still living ; and it is even said that she contemplated 
adding trigamy to bigamy, for which purpose she sent her son to be 
out of the way at Paris, with Philip, the French king. The poor 
child had his interests fearfully sacrificed on all sides, for a treaty 
was agreed upon between John and Philip, according to which there 
would be nothing at all left for the unfortunate boy when the two 
sovereigns had helped themselvesto their respective shares of the booty. 
In the summer of the year 1200, John made a royal progress into 
France where he evinced a familiar and festive humour, which made 



CHAF 



VII.1 JOHN — RESCUES ELEANOR, &0. 105 



him a favourite with a few of the " jolly dogs," but did not win the 
respect of the more sober classes of the community. He did not at 
all improve upon acquaintance ; and he completed his unpopularity 
by running away with Isabella, the wife of the Count of La Marche, 
whom he married and brought to England, in spite of his having 
already a wife at home, and the lady's having also a husband abroad. 
A second coronation was performed in honour of his second marriage; 
but he seems to have soon got tired of his new match, for he marched 
into Aquitaine without his wife, under the pretence that he had 
business to attend to, but he really did no business at all. Little did 
he anticipate when he started en gargon on his tour, that the historian 
nearly seven centuries afterwards would be recording the manner 
in which he passed his time, and proving the hollo wness of the 
excuse for leaving his wife behind him when he took his trip to 
Aquitaine. 

Young Arthur, who was but fifteen years of age, was advised by 
Philip (a.d. 1202) to try his hand in a military expedition. " You 
know your rights," said Philip to the youth, " and would you not be 
a king ? " " Oh ! wouldn't I, just ? " was the boy-like reply, and the 
French king counting off two hundred knights, as if they were so many 
bundles of wood, handed them over to the prince, telling him to go 
and make an attack upon some of the provinces. Arthur was 
recommended to march against Mirabeau, the residence of his grand- 
mother, Eleanor, a violent old lady who had always been unfavour- 
able to his claims. Arthur took the town, but not his grandmother, 
who, on hearing of the lad's intentions, exclaimed, " Hoity toity ! 
would the urchin teach his grandmother to suck eggs, I wonder ? " 
" No, but I would teach my grandmother to sue cuinb," was the 
dignified reply of the prince, when the message of his venerable 
relative was brought to him. The sturdy old female, who was rather 
corpulent, made, literally, a stout resistance, having thrown herself 
into a strong tower, which set rather tight upon her, like a corsage, 
and in this position she for some time defied the assaults of tiie 
enemy. Encased in this substantial breastwork, she awaited the 
threatened lacing at the hands of her grandson, when John came to 
her rescue. In the night between the 31st of July and the 1st of 
August, he took the town, dragged Arthur out of his bed, as well as 
some two hundred nobles who were " hanging out " at the different 
lodgings in the city. After cruelly beating them, he literally loaded 
them with irons, giving them cuffs first, and hand-cuffs immediately 
afterwards. Twenty-two noblemen were thrown into the damp 
dungeons of Corfe Castle, where they caught severe colds, of which 
they soon died, and they were buried under the walls of Corfe 
without coffins.* Young Arthur's tragical end has been the subject 
of various conjectures. Several historians have tried their hands at 
an interesting version of the young prince's death, but Shakspeare 

* Matthew Paris. It is to be regretted that the statement of a fact sometime* 
involves the necessity for a pun, as in the present instance. The faithful historiat 
has, however, on such an occasion, no alternative. Fidelity must not be sacrificed 
even to a desire for solemnity. 



100 



COMIC niSTOUY OP ENGLAND. 



[HOOK II 



lias given the most effective, and not the least probable, account of 
the fate of Arthur. The monks of Margan believe that John, in a lit 
of intoxication, slew his nephew ; but wo have no proof that Lack- 
land was often in that disgraceful state, which in these days would 
have rendered him liable to the loss of a crown — in the shape of the 



five-shilling fine for drunkenness. 




Prince Arthur requires his Grandmother to surrender. 



Ralph, the abbot of Coggeshall, who agrees with Shakspeare in 
many particulars, says that Arthur had been removed to Rouen, 
where his uncle called for him on the night of the 3rd of April, 1203, 
in a boat, to take a row on the river. It being time for all good 
little children to be in bed and asleep, Arthur was both at the 
moment of the avuncular visit. Boy-like, he made no objection to 
the absurd and ill-timed excursion, for it is a curious fact, that 
infants are always ready to get up at the most unseasonable hours, 
if anything in the shape of pleasure is proposed to them. Arthur 



CIIAr. VII.] DEATH OF AKTIIUR. 107 

was soon in the boat for a row up the Seine with his uncle John and 
Peter de Maulac, Esquire, one of the unprincipled "men about 
town " at that disreputable period. 

They had not proceeded far when either John or Mr. de Maulac 
seized the boy, as if he were so much superfluous ballast, and cruelly 
pitched him overboard. Some say that the squire was the sole exe- 
cutioner, while others hint that he turned squeamish at the last 
moment, and left the disgraceful business to John ; but they doubt- 
less shared the guilt, as they were both rowing in the same boat, and 
w T ere in point of private character " much of a muchness." Shak- 
speare, as everybody knows, makes the young prince meet his death 
more than half-way by leaping on to the stones below his prison win- 
dow', with a hope that they might prove softer than the heart of his 
uncle. It is not improbable that a child so young may have been 
foolish enough to jump to such a conclusion. 

The rumour of the murder naturally occasioned the greatest excite- 
ment ; and if we are to believe the immortal bard, rive moons came 
mooning out upon the occasion, which may account for the moon- 
struck condition of the populace. 

The Britons, amongst whom Arthur had been educated, were 
furious at the murder of their youthful prince, whose eldest sister, 
Eleanor, was in the hands of her uncle John. This lady was called 
by some, the Pearl of Brittany ; but if she was really a gem, she must 
have been an antique, for she spent forty years of her life in captivity. 
The Britons, therefore, rallied round a younger heroine, her half- 
sister, Alice, and appointed her father, Guy de Thouars, the regent 
and general of their confederacy. De Thouars was a Guy only in 
name, for he was extremely handsome, and had attracted the atten- 
tion of the lady Constance, whose third and last husband he had 
become. Guy went as the head of a deputation to the French king, 
who summoned John to a trial ; but that individual instead of 
attending the summons, allowed judgment to go by default, and was 
sentenced to a forfeiture of his dominions. 

John for some time treated the steps taken against him with con- 
tempt, and remained at Eouen, until he thought it advisable to go 
over to England, to prepare for his defence by collecting money, for 
it was always by sucking dry the public purse, that tyrants in those 
days were accustomed to look for succour. 

It was by his efforts to extract cash from his people that he excited 
among his nobles the discontent which has rendered the discontented 
barons of his reign, par excellence, the discontented barons of English 
history. He continued to mulct them every day, and his reign was 
a long game of forfeits, in which the barons were always the sufferers. 
Still they refused to quit the country for the defence of their tyrant's 
foreign possessions. 

By dint of threats and bribery he at last contrived (a.d. 120G) to 
land an army at Bochelle, and a contest was about to commence, when 
2 ohn proposed a parley. Without waiting for the answer, he ran away, 
leaving a notice on the door of his tent, stating that he had gone to 
England, and would return immediately, which, in accordance with 



103 



COMIC ftlSTOltY Of ENGLAND. 



[book II. 



the modern " chamber-practice," was equivalent to an announce- 
ment that he had no intention of coming back again. 

John, who could agree with nobody, now began to quarrel witli 
the pope by starting a candidate for the see of Canterbury, in 
opposition to Stephen Langton, the nominee of old Innocent. His 
holiness desired three English bishops to go and remonstrate with 
the king, who flew into a violent passion, and used the coarsest 
language, winding up with a threat to "cut off their noses," which 
caused the venerable deputation to " cut off" themselves with prompt 




King John threatens to cut off the Noses of the Bishops. 

alacrity. The bishops, however, soon recovered from the effects of 
their ill-treatment, and determined by the aid of the people to punish 
with papal bulls the royal bully. 

On Monday, the 23rd of March, 1208, they pronounced an interdict 
against all John's dominions ; but, like children setting fire to a train 
of gunpowder and running away, the bishops quitted the kingdom, as 
if afraid of the result of their own boldness. This was soon followed 
Ly a bull of excommunication against John, but the wary tyrant, by 



CHAP. VII.] PROCEEDINGS OF THE BlSIIOrS. — THE TOPE. 109 

watching the ports, prevented the entrance of this bull, which would 
have made it a mere toss up whether he could keep possession of 
his throne. 

John employed the year 1210 in raising money, by stealing it 
wherever he could lay his hands upon it ; for, says the chronicler, 
" as long as there was a sum he could bone, he thought it the summum 
bonum to get hold of it." With the cash he had collected he repaired 
to Ireland, and at Dublin was joined by twenty robust chieftains, who 
might have been called the Dublin stout of the thirteenth century. 
Eeturning to England in three months with an empty pocket, he 
became alarmed at hearing of a conspiracy among his barons. He 
shut himself up for fifteen days in the castle of Nottingham, seeing 
no one but the servants, and not permitting the door to be opened 
even to take in the milk, lest the cream of the British nobility should 
flow in with it. 

At length, in the year 1213, Innocent hurled his last thunderbolt 
at John's head, with the intention of knocking off his crown. The 
pope pronounced the deposition of the English king, and declared 
the throne open to competition, with a hint to Philip of Erance that 
he might find it an eligible investment. He prepared a fleet of seven- 
teen hundred vessels at Boulogne, but some of the vessels must have 
been little bigger than butter-boats if seventeen hundred of them 
were crammed into this insignificant harbour. John, by a desperate 
effort, got together sixty thousand men, but they were by no means 
staunch, and he w r as as much afraid of his own troops as of those 
belonging to the enemy. Pandulph, the pope's legate, knowing his 
character, came to Dover, and frightened him by fearful pictures of 
the enemy's strength, while Peter the Hermit,* who was rather more 
plague than prophet, bored the tyrant with predictions of his death. 
John, who was exceedingly superstitious, was so worked upon by his 
fears that he agreed to Pandulph's terms, and on the 15th of May, 
1213, he signed a sort of cognovit, acknowledging himself the vassal 
of the pope, and agreeing to pay a thousand marks a year, in token 
of which he set his own mark at the end of the document. 

He next offered Pandulph something for his trouble, but the legate 
raising his leg, trampled the money under his foot. The next day 
was that on which Peter the Hermit had prophesied that John would 
die, and the tyrant remained from morning till night watching the 
clock with intense anxiety. Finding himself alive at bedtime, he 
grew furious against Peter for having caused him so much needless 
alarm, and the Hermit was hanged for the want of foresight he had 
exhibited. He died, exclaiming that the king should have been 
grateful that the prediction had not been fulfilled ; " but," added he, 
as he placed his head through the fatal noose, " some folks are never 
satisfied." The French king was exceedingly disgusted at the shabby 
treatment he had received ; but Philip expended his rage in a few 
philippics against Pandulph, who merely expressed his regret, and 

* Some writers have called Tcter the Hermit a hare-brained recluse As his head 
was closely shaved the epithet " hair- brained " seems to have been sadly misapplied. 



110 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK II. 

added peremptorily, that England being now under the dominion of 
the pope, must henceforth be let alone. Philip alluded to the money 
he was out of pocket, but the nuncio politely observing that he was 
not happy at questions of account, withdrew while repeating his 
prohibition. 

John, who had so lately eaten humble pie, soon began to regard 
his promises as the pie-crust, which he commenced breaking very 
rapidly. Wishing, however, to carry the war into France, he required 
the services of his barons, who were very reluctant to aid him, and 
he had got as far as Jersey, when happening to look behind him, he 
perceived that he had scarcely any followers. He had started with 
a tolerable number, but they turned back sulkily by degrees, without 
his being aware of it until he arrived at Jersey, when he was 
preparing to turn himself round, and perceived that his suite had 
dwindled down to a few mercenaries, who hung on to his skirts 
merely for the sake of what he had got in his pockets. Becoming 
exceedingly angry, he wheeled suddenly back, and vented his spite 
in burning and ravaging everything that crossed his path. He was 
in a flaming passion, for he set fire to all the buildings on the road 
till he reached Northampton, where Langton overtook him, and 
taxed him with the violation of his oath. " Mind your own business," 
roared the king, " and leave me to manage mine ; " but Langton would 
not take an answer of that kind, and stuck to him all the way to 
Nottingham, where the prelate, according to his own quaint phrase- 
ology, " went at him again " with more success than formerly. John 
issued summonses to the barons, and Langton hastened to see them 
in London, where he drew up a strong affidavit by which they al> 
swore to be true to each other, and to their liberties. 

John was still apprehensive of the hostility of the pope, which 
might have been fatal at this juncture, had not Cardinal Nicholas 
arrived in the nick of time, namely, on the 12th of September, 1213, 
to take off the interdict. The court of Eome thus executed a sort of 
clnissez-croiscz, by going over to the side of John, but Langton did 
not desert his old partner, liberty. In the following year the English 
king was defeated at the battle of Bouvines, one of the most tremen- 
dous affrays recorded in history. Salisbury, surnamed Longsword, was 
captured by that early specimen of the church militant, the Bishop 
of Beauvais, who, because it was contrary to the canons of the Church 
for him to shed blood, fought witli a ponderous club, by which he 
knocked the enemy on the head, and acquired the name of the stunning 
bishop. He banged about him in such style, that he might have been 
eligible for the see of Bangor, had his ambition pointed in that 
direction. John obtained a truce ; but the discontented barons had 
ill ready placed a rod in pickle for him, and on the 20th day of 
November, they held a crowded meeting at St. Edmund's Bury, 
which was adjourned until Christmas. At that festive season, John 
found himself eating his roast beef entirely alone, for nobody called 
to wish him joy, or partake his pudding. 

After dining by himself at Worcester, ho started for London, 
making sure of a little gaiety at boxing-time, in the great metropolis. 



CHAP. VII,] 



EECEi'TION OF THE BAKONS. 



Ill 



Nobody, however, took the slightest notice of him until one day the 
whole of the barons came to him in a body, to pay him a morning 
visit. Surprised at the largeness of the party, he was somewhat cool, 
but on hearing that they had come for liberty, he declared that he 
would not allow any liberty to be taken while he continued king of 
England. The party remained firm with one or two exceptions, when 
John began to shiver as if attacked with ague, and he went on 
blowing hot and cold as long as he could, until pressed by the barons 
for an answer to their petition. He then replied evasively, " Why- 
yes — no ; let mc see — ha ! exactly — stop ! Well, I don't know, 




The Bishop of Beauvais captiirinp Salisbury. 

perhaps so — 'pon honour;" and ultimately obtained time until 
Easter, to consider the proposals that were made to him. The 
confederated barons had no sooner got outside the street-door than 
John began to think over the means of circumventing them. As they 
separated on the threshold, to go to their respective homes, it was 
evident from the gestures and countenances of the group that there 
had been a difference of opinion as to the policy of granting John the 
time he had requested. A bishop and two barons, who had turned 
recreants at the interview, and receded from their claims, were of 
course severely bullied by the rest of the confederates, on quitting 
the royal presence. At length the day arrived, in Easter week, when 
the barons were to go for an answer to the little Bill — of Rights — which 
they had left with John at the preceding Christmas. They met at 



112 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK II. 



Stamford, where they got up a grand military spectacle, including 
two thousand knights and an enormous troop of auxiliaries. The 
King, who was at Oxford, sent off Cardinal Langton, with the Earls 
of Pembroke and Warrenne, as a deputation, who soon returned with 
a schedule of terrific length, containing a catalogue of grievances, 
which the barons declared they would have remedied. John flew 
into one of his usual passions, tearing his long hair, and rapidly 
pacing his chamber with the skirt of his robe thrown over his left 
arm, while, with his right hand, he shook his fist at vacancy. The 
deputation could merely observe calmly, " We have done our part of 
the business: that is what the barons want; " and a roll of parch- 
ment was instantly allowed to run out to its full length at the foot of 
the enraged sovereign. John took up the document and pretended 

to inspect it with 
| ] telLl .is^ much minuteness, 
muttering to him- 
self, " No, I don't 
see it down," upon 
which Langton asked 
the sovereign what 
he was looking for. 
"I was searching," 
sarcastically roared 
the tyrant, " for the 
crown, which I fully 
expected to find 
: scheduled as one of 
S the items I am called 
upon to surrender." 
This led to some de- 
sultory conversation, 
in the course of w r hich 
the king made some 
evasive offers, which the barons would not accept, and the latter, 
appointing Eobert Fitz- Walter as their general, at once' commenced 
hostilities. 

They first marched upon the castle of Northampton, but when they 
got under the walls they discovered that they had gotno battering-rams, 
and after sitting looking at the castle for fifteen days, they marched oil 
again. At Bedford, where they went next, the same farce might have 
been enacted, had not the inhabitants opened the gates for them. 
Here they received an invitation from London, and stopping to rest 
for the night at Ware — on account, perhaps, of the accommodation 
afforded by the Great Bed — they arrived on Sunday, the 24th of May, 
1215, in the City. Here they were joined by the whole nobility of 
England, while John was abandoned by all but seven knights, who 
remained near his person, the seven (k)nights forming a weak pro- 
tection, to the sovereign. His heart at first failed him, but he was a 
capital actor, and soon assumed a sort of easy cheerfulness. He 
presented his compliments to the barons, and assured them he should 




John in a Passion. 



CHAI\ VII.] GRANTING OF MAGNA CHAIITA. 115 

bo most happy to meet them, if they would appoint a time and placo 
for an interview. The barons instantly fixed the 19th of June at 
.Runny-Mead, when John intimated that he should have much 
pleasure in accepting the polite invitation. 

At length theeventful morning arrived, when John cantered quietly 
down from Windsor Castle, attended by eight bishops and a party of 
about twenty gentlemen. These, however, were not his friends, but 
had been lent by the other side, " for the look of the thing," lest the 
king should seem to be wholly without attendants. The barons, who 
had been stopping at Staines, were of course punctual, and had got 
the pen and ink all laid out upon the table, with a Windsor chair 
brought expressly from the town of Windsor for John to sit down 
upon. It had been expected that he would have raised some futile 
objections to sign ; but the crafty sovereign, knowing it was a sine 
quel non, made but one plunge into the inkstand, and affixed his 
autograph. It is said that he dropped a dip of ink accidentally on 
the parchment, and that he mentally ejaculated " Ha ! this affair will 
be a blot upon my name for ever." The facility with which the king 
attached his signature to Magna Charta — the great charter of England's 
liberties — naturally excited suspicion ; for it is a remark founded on 
a long acquaintance with human nature, that the man who never 
means to take up a bill is always foremost in accepting one. Had John 
contemplated adhering to the provisions of the document he would 
have probably discussed the various clauses, but a swindler seldom 
disputes the items of an account, when he has not the remotest 
intention of paying it. 

Though Magna Charta has been practically superseded by subsequent 
statutes, it must always be venerated as one of the great foundations 
of our liberties. It established the "beautiful principle " that taxation 
shall only take place by the consent of those taxed — a principle the 
beauty of which has been its chief advantage, for it has proved less 
an article for use than for ornament. The agreeable figure that 
everyone who pays a tax does so with his own full concurrence, and 
simply because he likes it, is a pleasing delusion, which all have not 
the happiness to labour under. It was also provided that " the king 
should sell, delay, or deny justice to none," a condition that can 
scarcely be considered fulfilled when we look at some of the bills of 
costs that generally follow a long suit in that game of chance which 
has obtained the singularly appropriate title of Chancery. It may be 
perhaps argued, that the article delayed and sold is law, whereas 
Magna Charta alludes only to justice. This, we must admit, estab- 
lishes a distinction — not without a difference. 

Though John had kept his temper tolerably well at the meeting 
with the barons, he had no sooner got back to Windsor Castle, than 
he called a few foreign adventurers around him, and indulged in a 
good hearty swearing fit against the charter. He grew so frantic, 
according to the chroniclers, that he "gnashed his teeth, rolled his 
eyes, and gnawed sticks and straws," though he could scarcely have 
done all this without sending for the umbrella-stand, and having a 
.jood bite at its contents, or ordering in a few wisps from the stable. 

I — 2 



11G COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK II. 

That John was exceedingly mad with the barons for what they had 
made him do, is perfectly true, but we do not go the length of those 
who look upon a truss of straw as essential to a person labouring 
under mental aberration. 

John now went to reside in the Isle of Wight, and tried to captivate 
the fishermen by adopting their manners. Thei'e is nothing very 
captivating in the manners of the fishermen of the Isle of Wight at 
the present day, whatever may have been the case formerly; but it is 
probable that the king became popular by a sort of hail-fellow- well-met- 
ishness, to which his dreadful habit of swearing no doubt greatly 
contributed. Having imported a lot of mercenaries from the Con- 
tinent, he posted off to Dover to land the disgraceful cargo, and with 
them he marched against Rochester Castle, which had been seized by 
William D'Albiney. The larder was wretchedly low when D'Albiney 
first took possession, and the garrison was soon reduced to its last 
mouthful of provisions. This consisted of a piece of rind of cheese, 
which everybody had refused in daintier days, when provisions were 
plentiful. D'Albiney bolted the morsel and unbolted the gate nearly 
at the same moment, when John, rushing in, butchered all the super- 
numeraries and sent the principal characters to Corfe Castle. 

John, who always grew bold when there was no opposition, com- 
mitted all sorts of atrocities upon places without defence, and the 
barons shut up in Lincoln, held numerous meetings, which terminated 
in a resolution to offer the crown to Louis, the son of Philip of France, 
provided the young gentleman and his papa would come over and 
fight for it. Louis left Calais with six hundred and eighty vessels, 
but he had a terribly bad passage across to Sandwich, where the 
" flats," as usual, permitted the landing of an enemy. John, who had 
run round to Dover with a numerous army, fled before the French 
landed, and committed arson on an extensive scale all over the 
country. Every night was a " night wi' Burns," and the royal 
incendiary seems to have put himself under the especial protection of 
Blaise, as the only saint with whom the tyrant felt the smallest 
sympathy. John ultimately put up at Bristol, and the neighbourhood 
of Bath seems to have quenched for a time his flaming impetuosity. 
Louis having besieged Rochester Castle, which seems in those days 
to have been very like a copy of the Times newspaper, which some 
one was always anxious to take directly it was out of hand, marched 
on to London. He arrived there on the 2nd of June, 1216, where he 
was received with that enthusiasm which the hospitable cockneys 
have ever been ready to bestow on foreigners of distinction. Nearly 
all the few followers that had hitherto adhered to John now aban- 
doned him, and he was left almost alone with Gualo, the pope's 
legate, who did all he could to revive the drooping spirits of the 
tyrant. Vainly however did Gualo slap the sovereign on the back, 
inviting him to "cheer up," and ply him with cider, his favourite 
beverage. " Come ! drown it in the bowl," was the constant cry of 
(iualo. " Talk not of bowls," was the reply of John ; " what is life 
but a game at bowls, in which the king is too frequently knocked 
over?" 



CHAT. VII.] DEATH OP JOHN. 117 

Louis, in the meantime, growing arrogant with success, commenced 
insulting , the English and granting their property to his foreign 
followers. The barons began to think they had made a false step 
with reference to their own country by allowing the French prince to 
put his foot in it. This for a moment brightened the prospects of 
John, who started off and went blazing away as far as Lynn, where 
he had got a depot of provisions, and of course a change of linen. 
Hence he made for Wisbeach, and put up at a place called the 
" Cross Keys," intending to cross the Wash, which is a very passable 
place at low water. 

John was nearly across when he heard the tide beginning to roar 
with fearful fury. Knowing that tide and time wait for no man, he 
felt he was tied to time, and hurried to the opposite shore with 
tremendous rapidity. He succeeded in reaching land ; but his horses, 
with his plate, linen, and money were not so fortunate, for he had 
the mortification of seeing all his clothes lost in the Wash, and the 
utter sinking of the whole of his capital. 

Venting his sorrow in cursory remarks and discursive curses, ho 
went on to Swineshead Abbey, where he passed the night in eating 
peaches and pears, and drinking new cider.* The cider of course 
added to the fermentation that was going on in his fevered frame ; 
and even without the peaches and pears, the efforts of his physicians 
might have proved fruitless. He went to bed, but could not sleep, 
for his conscience continued to impeach him in a series of frightful 
dreams, to which the poaches no doubt contributed. He nevertheless 
made an effort to get up the next morning, and mounted his horse on 
the 15th of October ; but he was too ill to keep his seat, and his 
attendants, putting him into a horse-box, got him as far as Sleaford. 
Here he passed another shocking night, but the next day they again 
moved him into the horse-box, and dragged him to Newark, where he 
requested that a confessor might be sent for. The abbot of Crocton, 
who w 7 as a doctor as well as a divine, immediately attended, and this 
leech was employed in drawing a confession from the lips of the 
tyrant. He named his eldest son, Henry, his successor, and dictated 
a begging-letter to the new pope, imploring protection for his small 
and helpless children. He died on the 18th of October, 1216, in the 
forty-ninth year of his age, and the seventeenth of one of the most 
uncomfortable reigns recorded in English history. From first to last 
he seems to have been cut by his subjects, for we find him eating his 
Christmas dinner alone in the very middle of his sovereignty, and 
dragged about the country in a horse-box within a day of his death, 
when such active treatment could not have been beneficial to tho 
royal patient in an advanced stage of fever. 

The character of John has been so fully developed in the account 
of his reign that it is quite unnecessary to sum him up on the present 
occasion. If he harassed the barons, they certainly succeeded in 
returning the compliment ; for he seems to have had a most unplea- 
sant time of it. He had the title of king, but was often worse off in 

* Matthew Faris. 



118 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK II. 



point of accommodation than the humblest gentleman. His case 
reminds us of an individual, who, finding himself in a sedan with 
neither top nor bottom to it, came to the conclusion that he might as 
well have walked but for " the look of the thing." So it may be said 
of John, that deprived of all the substantial advantages of a throne, 
he might but " for the name of the thing " have just as well been a 
private individual. 




BOOK III. 

HIE PERIOD FROM THE ACCESSION OF HENRY THE THIRD, TO THE 
END OF THE REIGN OF RICHARD THE SECOND. A.D. 1216 — 1399. 



CHAPTER THE FIRST. 



HENRY THE THIRD, SURNAMED OF WINCHESTER. 



ENRY, the eldest son of John, was 
a child under ten years of age at 
the time of his father's death, but 
his brother-in-law, the Earl of 
Pembroke, brought him to Glou- 
cester and got him crowned by 
Gualo, who had always acted as a 
friend of the family. The corona- 
tion, which took place on the 
28th of October, 1216, was very 
indifferently got up, for the crown 
had not come from the Wash, 
where it had been lying in soak 
ever since John's unfortunate 
expedition across the water from 
Wisbeach. Gualo therefore took 
a ring from his finger, and put it 
on the young king's head, as a 
substitute for the missing diadem. 
The coronation party consisted of three earls, three bishops, and four 
barons, with a sprinkling of abbots and priors, comprising altogether 
a retinue of about thirty individuals. 

The clergy of Westminster and Canterbury complained bitterly of 
the ceremony having been " scamped," by which their rights had 
been invaded, or, in other words, by which they had been done out 
of their perquisites. The first coronation was therefore treated as a 
mere rehearsal, and a more regular performance afterwards took 
place, with new machinery, dresses, decorations, and all the usual 
properties. 

On the 11th of the following November, Pembroke was appointed 
rector Regis ct Regni— ruler of the king and kingdom — so that Henry 
the Third was sovereign de jure with a de facto viceroy over him. 
This arrangement was made at a great council held at Bristol, where 

119 




120 COMIC HISTORY op englakb [book III. 

Magna Charta was revised with a view to the publication of a new 
and improved edition. 

Louis, on hearing of John's death, puffed himself up with a certainty 
of success, but he only realised the old fable of the French frog and 
the British bull ; for, becoming inflated with pride, he was not long 
in bursting like an empty bubble. 

As Christinas, 1216, was close at hand, a truce was arranged, to 
('liable each party to enjoy the holidays. Louis took advantage of 
the vacation to go to Paris to consult his father Philip, who, like a 
modern French king of the same name, was remarkable for his tact 
in doing the best for his own family. On his return to England, 
Louis encountered some hostility from the hardy mariners of the 
Cinque Ports — the Deal and Dover boatmen of that day — but reach- 
ing Sandwich, he got over the flats with the usual facility. He 
however spitefully burned the town to the ground, merely because it 
was one of the Cinque Ports, which had turned crusty at his approach, 
though it was hardly fair of him to mull the only port that did not 
prove too strong for him. Hostilities were continued on both sides 
with varying success, until the Count de la Perche, a French general, 
flushed with a recent triumph at Mount Sorel, in Leicester, 
determined to attack the Castle of Lincoln. He would probably 
have succeeded, but for the resistance of a woman, the widow of the 
late keeper of the castle, who, with the obstinacy of her sex, refused 
to surrender. The Count de la Perche, ashamed of being beaten by 
vne of the gentler sex, continued the attack, and refusing to quit the 
town, found himself involved in a series of street rows of the most 
alarming character. 

Pembroke having collected a large force, sent part of it into the 
castle by the back garden gate, and the other part into the town, so 
that poor de la Perche found it impossible to move either one way or 
the other. The English literally gave it him right and left till he 
died ; and after falling upon the almost defenceless French, they gave 
the name of " the fair of Lincoln " to a battle about as unfair as any 
recorded in the pages of history. 

This event, which came off on the 20th of May, 1217, was followed 
in June by a conference which, like Panton Square, led to nothing. 
Louis made one more attempt upon Dover, but he had no means to 
carry on the war, and he was obliged to raise the siege, as he could 
not raise the money. He hastened to London, which he had no 
sooner entered than the English shut the gates and locked him in ; 
while the pope sent a tremendous bull down upon him, to add to his 
annoyances. Louis began to feel that he had had quite enough of it, 
and being anxious for a little peace, he proposed one to Pembroke. The 
terms were soon agreed upon, but Louis was detained in town some 
little time for want of the money to pay his debts and his journey 
home again The citizens of London forming themselves into a loan 
society, advance.d a few pounds to the French prince, who deserves 
some credit for not having taken French leave of his creditors. By 
the terms of the treaty ho surrendered all his claims upon the 
Luglish crown, which seems to have been rather a superfluous 



CttAl 1 . I.] HENRY THE THIRD — HUBERT t)E BURGH. 121 

sacrifice, as be had been trying it on for some time, and found that 
the cap never fitted. 

As Louis went out of London at the East End, to embark for 
France, Henry, who had been at Kingston, came in at Hyde Park 
Corner. Pembroke, the regent, made him exceedingly popular by 
advising him to confirm Magna Charta, and to add a clause or two 
for the purpose of freshening it up, so that the new edition might 
repay perusal. Unfortunately for the prospects of the kingdom, 
Pembroke died, in May, 1219, and was buried in the Temple Church, 
wheie his tomb is still to be seen by anyone who can obtain a 
bencher's order. The regent's authority wa-s now divided between 
Hubert de Burgh and Peter — or, as Eapin christens him — William 
des Eoches, the Bishop of Winchester. These two individuals, 
though jealous of each other, agreed in the propriety of another 
coronation, probably on account of the patronage it gave to those who 
happened to be in power; and as the couple in question had just 
taken office, they were anxious to realise some of the profits at the 
earliest opportunity. In the quarrels between these two woithies, 
Des Eoches was getting rather the upper hand, when Hubert de 
Burgh, in 1223, got the pope to declare that the king, who was only 
sixteen years of age, had attained his majority. Thus, like the dog 
in the manger, Hubert determined that no one else should enjoy a 
position which he himself was unable to profit by. This was an 
" artful dodge " of the cunning Hubert, to get the game into his own 
hands, for Henry on being pronounced " of age," having received a 
surrender of various castles and fortified places from the barons, gave 
back those which he had no occasion for to the wily minister. The 
barons, finding themselves bamboozled, became exceedingly angry 
with the king and Hubert, but the latter went on, alternately hanging 
and excommunicating, until he had settled the obstreperous and 
quelled the turbulent. 

The year 1225 must ever be remarkable for the refusal of Parliament 
— a name that was then coming into use — to grant supplies without 
asking any questions. This had formerly been the usual practice, but 
when Hubert coolly proposed a grant of a fifteenth of all the movable 
property in the kingdom for the use of the king, the Parliament said 
it was all very well, but if the money was given there ought to be 
something to show for it. Henry accordingly gave another ratification 
of Magna Charta, which was a good deal like the old superfluous pro- 
cess of putting butter upon bacon, for he had already twice ratified 
that important document. In those days, however, there was no 
objection to giving the lily an extra coat of paint, or treating the 
re lined gold to an additional layer of gilding. 

In the year 1228, Henry had collected an army at Portsmouth to 
pail for Prance, but Hubert de Burgh, w r ho seems to have held the 
place of First Lord of the Admiralty as well as his other offices, had 
not provided a sufficient number of vessels. When the troops were 
about to embark it was found impossible to stow them away even 
with the closest packing. Henry flew into a violent passion with 
Hubert, accusing him of pocketing the money he ought to have laid 



122 



COMIC niSTOKY OF ENGLAND. 



[HOOK III. 



out in ships, and the king had drawn his sword, intending to run the 
minister through, when the Earl of Chester ran between them, ex- 
claiming "Hold!" with intense significance. This fine dramatic 
situation told exceedingly well ; for Hubert de Burgh got off, though 




The Earl of Chester interposing between Henry the Third and Hubert dc Burgh 

the king did not, and the expedition was postponed until the year 
following. He passed over into Normandy, a.d. 1229, but he pre- 
ferred feasting to fighting, and the only advance he made was by 
continually running away, which kept him constantly ahead of the 
enemy. He, however, threw all the blame of the failure on Hubert, 
whose shoulders must have been tolerably broad to have borne all 
that his master chose to cast on to them. 

The king returned to England very much out of pocket and com- 
pletely out of spirits. He applied to his old paymaster, the Parliament, 
but his conduct had excited so much disgust, that instead of money, 
or as it was then called, blunt, he got a blunt refusal. His majesty, 
whose tone had hitherto been that of command, now assumed the 
humble air of the mendicant, and he adopted the degraded clap-trap 
of his being " a real case of distress," in order to obtain a subsidy. 
He declared his inability to pay his way, but as his way was never to 
pay at all, this argument availed him very little. He was, however, 
getting rapidly shorter and shorter every day, when fearing that 
he would perhaps compromise the dignity of the crown by pawning 
it, or sell the regalia for the purpose of regaling himself, the Parlia- 
ment agreed to let him have a trifle for current expenses. This 
consisted of three marks for every fief held immediately of the 



CHAP. I.J DISGRACE AND FALL OF DE BUKGII. 123 

crown,* which was little enough to give him an excuse for not 
paying his debts, and yet sufficient to allow him to rush into fresh 
extravagances. In the year 1232, Henry, having of course spent 
every shilling of his small supply, renewed his application to Parlia- 
ment, alleging that he was desirous of discharging the liabilities in- 
curred in his expedition to France, but the barons firmly, and not 
very respectfully, refused any further pecuniary assistance. They 
urged in effect, that they had already been doubly robbed of their 
services and their cash, for they had never been paid for the one, and 
had been almost drained of the other. The nobles, who had derived 
nearly all they possessed from plunder, could not see the justice of 
the principle, that as they had done to others they deserved to be 
done, and they peremptorily refused to comply with the attempted 
exactions of the sovereign. 

Having failed in his attack on the pockets of his Parliament, 
Henry looked with an envious eye on the comfortably lined coffers of 
his minister. Hubert de Burgh, though he enjoyed the reputation of 
a trusty servant, had taken care to feather his nest, nor did the 
feathers lie very heavily on his conscience, for in those days the 
greatest weight that could be placed upon the mind was always 
portable. The tonnage of Hubert's conscience appears to have been 
considerable, for though he carried a good cargo of peculation, he 
seems never to have evinced any disposition to sink under his burden. 
Henry became jealous of the good fortune of his minister, and 
resolved, for the purpose of getting his savings, to effect his ruin. 
Presuming Hubert to have been a dishonest man, and granting that 
there is policy in the recommendation to ' ' set a thief to catch a 
thief," the king could not have done better than to send for Des 
Eoches, the Bishop of Winchester, to assist in cleaning out the 
favourite. Poor De Burgh was in the first instance charged with 
magic and enchantment ; which may be considered equivalent to an 
impeachment of the minister of the present day for phantasmagoria 
and thimble-rig. 

In these enlightened times we cannot conceive the Premier being 
sent to the Tower on a suspicion of jack-a-lantern and blind hookey, 
though it was for offences of this class that Hubert was at first 
arraigned on the prosecution of his sovereign. These frivolous 
charges having fallen to the ground, the king called upon him for an 
account of all the money that had passed through his hands ; when 
the minister having kept no books and being wholly without vouchers, 
cut a very pretty figure. As he had been in the habit of cutting 
figures all through his career, this result was not to be wondered at. 
He, however, rummaged among his papers and found an old patent, 
given him by John, absolving him from the necessity of rendering any 
account, but his enemies replied, that this was only a receipt in full 
up to the time of Henry's accession. Hubert finding he could not 
get out of the scrape, determined, if possible, to get out of the 
country ; but he proceeded no further on the road than Merton, 

* Rabin's Uistoirc (V Aitylrtcrre, tome ii.. p. 38G of the second edition 



121 COMIC HlSTOtlY OF ENGLAND, [book III. 

wiicre be turned in to the priory. The king at first determined to 
have him out, dead or alive, and a mob of upwards of twenty 
thousand people, says Eapin,* were about to start with the Mayor of 
London to take the ex-minister into custody. How such a crowd 
was got together in those days out of the mere superfluous idlers of 
the city, is not known, and we are equally in the dark how it 
happened that this mob continued doing nothing, while the king 
listened to remonstrances from various quartei'S against the violence 
of his measures. 

London mobs must have been rather more tractable in tbe 
thirteenth than in the nineteenth century, for the twenty thousand 
people dispersed when it was understood, after considerable negotia- 
tion, that their services would not be required. Indeed, according to 
a more recent historian,! they had actually started when a king's 
messenger was despatched to call them back again. 

Hubert, who had found the priory at Merton exceedingly slow, 
started off to St. Edmund's Bury to see his wife, who resided there. 
He had got as far as Brentwood, and had gone to bed, when he was 
roused by a loud knocking at the door, which caused him to put his 
head out of the window and inquire who or what was wanted. " Is 
there a person of the name of Hubert de Burgh stopping here ? " 
exclaimed the captain of the troop ; but the wily minister, for the 
sake of gaining time, pretended to misunderstand the question. 
" Hubert de What? " he exclaimed, as he slipped on a portion of his 
dress ; but the soldier repeated the name with a tremendous emphasis 
on the syllable Burgh, which caused a shudder in the frame of 
Hubert. He, however, had the presence of mind to direct them to 
the second door round the corner. Having got them away from the 
front of the cottage by this manoeuvre, he ran downstairs into the 
street, and made his way to the chapel. Here he was seized by his 
pursuers, who placed him on a horse, and tied his feet together under 
the animal's stomach. Hubert must have had legs of a most extra- 
ordinary length, or the horse must have been a very genteel figure to 
have permitted this arrangement, which we find recorded in all the 
histories. 

It is possible that the brute upon which De Burgh was secured 
may have been a donkey, in which case the legs of the ex-favourite 
might have been long enough to admit of their being tied in a double 
knot — and perhaps even in a bow — under the animal's stomach. In 
this uncomfortable position he was trotted off to the Tower ; but the 
clergy being incensed at the violation of sanctuary, Hubert was re- 
mounted in the same style, and trotted back again. He was placed 
in the church as before, but all communication with it was cut off, a 
trench dug round it, and Hubert was left without any food but that 
which is always so plentiful under similar circumstances — namely, 
food for reflection. 

After "chewing the bitter cud" until there was nothing left to 

* Tome ii., j>. ?,\>\. 
f Macfarlanc's Cabinet History of England, vol. iii., p. 2:19 



CHAP. I.] ASSASSINATION OF TEMBKOKE. 125 

masticate, he intimated from the steeple his desire to surrender. Ho 
had remained forty days shut up without food, fire, or any other 
clothing but the wrapper in which he had made his escape from his 
lodgings at Brentwood. The once burly Dc Burgh had, of course, 
become dreadfully thin, and the thread of existence seemed to be 
inclosed in a mere thread-paper. In this state he was taken to the 
Tower ; but he was soon released to take his trial before his peers, 
who would have condemned him to death, but the king, looking on the 
minister as a golden goose, merely seized the accumulated eggs, and 
sent him to prison at the Castle of Devizes, until some other means 
were devised of getting hold of the remainder of his property. 

Hubert had scarcely been in prison a year, when he took advantage 
of a dark night to drop himself over one of the battlements. He 
however found that one good drop deserved another, for he had fallen 
into a ditch containing a good drop of water, in which he remained 
absorbed for several seconds. Having crawled out, ho commenced 
wringing his hands and his clothes, but feeling there was no time to 
be lost, he made his way to a country church, whither he was traced 
by the drippings of his garments, which had left a mark something 
like that of a water-cart, along the path he had taken. Though cap- 
tured by one party, ho was set at liberty by another, with whom the 
king had become very unpopular, and Hubert was carried off to 
Wales, where a sect of discontents, who, had they lived in these days, 
would have been called the Welsh Whigs, had long been gathering. 
Hubert in about a year and a half, obtained a return of part of his 
estates, and was even restored to his honours ; but the king still kept 
him as a sort of nest-egg to plunder as occasion required. Hubert 
finally compromised the claims of the sovereign by surrendering four 
castles, in which Hollinshed is disposed to believe that Jack Straw's 
and the Elephant could not have been included. 

The Bishop of Winchester, or as he is termed in history, the Poictc- 
vin bishop, succeeded to power on the downfall of Hubert, and Des 
Boches soon filled the court with foreign adventurers. Two of a 
trade never agree ; and the nobility, who had originally been foreign 
adventurers themselves, objected to the importation of any more 
scamps from abroad, on the principle, perhaps, that England had got 
plenty of that sort already. The Poictevin bishop was particularly 
hostile to the son of the late regent, the young Earl of Pembroke, 
who inherited some of his father's virtues, and what was far more 
interesting to old Des Boches, the whole of his father' sproperty. 
Young P. was in Ireland, where he had large estates, which the 
Poictevin bishop desired the governors of that country to confiscate. 
He promised them a slice, and the governors being — as Bapin has it 
— avides d'un si bon morccau — (ravenous for such a tit-bit) deter- 
mined on getting hold of it. Treachery was accordingly resorted to, 
and Pembroke was basely stabbed in the back whilst sitting unsus- 
pectingly at his own Pembroke table. This was more than the barons 
could bear ; and they told Henry very plainly, through Edmund, 
the new Archbishop of Canterbury, that if Des Boches was not dis- 
missed, the sovereign himself would be sent forthwith about his 



126 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

business. The Poictcvin was ordered off to Winchester, with direc- 
tions to limit his views to his own sec ; and the patriotic Canterbury, 
who had of course only been anxious for the good of his country, 
obtained the power from which his predecessor had been cleverly 
ousted. 

The Bishop of Winchester was soon afterwards called to Eome by 
the pope, who pretended to require his advice, but really had an 
eye to his money. Des Roches imagined that he was invited for 
protection, but he was in fact wanted for pillage. The Poictcvin was 
glad to escape from English surveillance, and was quite content to 
eat his mutton under the pope's eye, though he was hardly prepared 
for the process of picking to which he was subjected. The predeces- 
sor of Urban* was, however, all urbanity, and thus made some 
amends to Des Roches, who, like the majority of mankind, found 
victimisation a comparatively painless operation when performed by 
the gentle or light-fingered hands of an accomplished swindler. 

In the year 1236, Henry married Eleanor of Provence, with 
immense pomp and another coronation — a ceremony the frequent 
repetition of which in former times was a proof of the uncertainty of 
regal power, for the crown could not bo very firm that so often 
required re-soldering. The king's marriage formed, perhaps, a 
reasonable excuse for placing an extra hod of cement between tho 
monarch's poll and the hollow diadem. The marriage festivities 
were followed by the summoning of a Parliament at Merton, where 
Henry passed a series of statutes that became famous under the 
name of the Statutes of Merton ; and where ho also pocketed, in the 
shape of subsidies, a considerable sum of money. 

Eleanor, the new queen, brought with her to England a quantity 
of needy and seedy foreigners, most of whom were immediately 
promoted. One of her uncles, " named Boniface," says Matthew 
Paris, "from his extraordinary quantity of cheek," was raised to 
the see of Canterbury. She invited over from Provence a quantity 
of demoiselles d viaricr. whom she got off by palming them upon rich 
young nobles, of whom her husband held the wardship. The court 
was turned into a kind of matrimonial bazaar, where the wealthy 
scions of English aristocracy were hooked by the portionless but 
sometimes pretty spinsters of Provence. Nor was this all, for Isabella, 
the queen mother, sent over her four boys, Guy, William, Geoffrey, 
and Aymer, her sons, by the Count de la Marche, to be provided 
for. England was in fact regarded as an enormous common, upon 
which any foreign goose or jackass might be turned out to grass, 
provided he was patronised by a member of the reigning family. 
Henry, who was the victim of his poor relations, soon found himself 
short of cash, and he was obliged to get money in driblets from 
the Parliament, who never allowed him much at a time, and always 
exacted conditions which were invariably broken as soon as the cash 
was granted. 

* According l < » some authorities Celcstinc \v:is pope at this period, and Urban did 
not reach the papal dignity till sonic time afterwards. 



cn.vr. i.J sumptuary proceedings with the darons. 



127 



Henry had been married about a year, when he had the coolness to 
ask the nation for the expenses of his wedding. The barons declared 
that they had never been consulted about the match, and that tbe 
king up to tbe last hour of his remaining a single man had acted with 
great duplicity. Finding it useless to command, he resorted to the 
old plan of humbug, and fell back upon his old friend Magna Charta, 
which he confirmed once more, for about the fifth or sixth time, and 




Marriage of his most Gracious Majesty Henry the Third and Eleanor of 1'rovence. 



of course got the money he required. This great Bill of Eights was 
to him a sort of stereotyped bill of exchange, upon which he could 
always raise a sum of money by going through the formality of a 
fresh acceptance. 

The history of this reign for the next few years would furnish fitter 
materials for the accountant than the historian, and Henry's career 
would be better told in a balance-sheet than in the form of narrative. 
Had his schedule been regularly filed it would have disclosed a series 
of insolvencies, from which he was only relieved by taking the benefit 
of some act of generosity and credulity on the part of his Parliament. 
At one moment he was so fearfully hard up that ho was advised to 
sell all his plate and jewels.* " Who will buy them ? " ho exclaimed; — 
he added, glancing at his four awkward half-brothers, " if 



" though, 



Matthew Paris. Mat. West. Cliron. Dunel. 



128 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [dOOK III 

anyone would giro mc anything for that set of spoons, I should bo 
glad to take the offer." He was told that the citizens of London 
would purchase plate to any amount, at which he burst into violent 
invectives against " the clowns," as he termed them, probably on ac- 
count of the presumed capacity of their breeches pockets. He made 
every effort to annoy the citizens, and showed his appreciation of 
their superfluous cash by helping himself to ten thousand pounds of it 
by open violence. 

In the year 1253, Henry w r as once more in a fix, and again the Par- 
liament had the folly to promise him a supply if he would go through 
another confirmation of Magna Charta. On the 3rd of May ho 
attended a general meeting of the nobility at Westminster Hall where 
he found the ecclesiastical dignitaries holding each a burning taper in 
his hand, intending probably that the melting w T ax should make a 
deep impression on the sovereign. Some are of opinion that this 
process was illustrative of the necessity sometimes said to exist for 
holding a candle to a certain individual. Henry took the usual 
quantity of oaths, and the priests dashed to the ground their tapers, 
which went out in smoke, and were so far typical of the king's 
promises. On receiving the money he went to Guienne, from which 
he soon came back — as a popular vocalist used to say by way of cuo 
to his song — " without sixpence in his pocket, just like — Love among 
the roses." 

The pope now brought in a heavy bill of £100,000 for money lent, 
of which Henry declared he had never enjoyed the benefit. The 
pope merely observed, that he was clearing his books and must have 
the matter settled. The king turned upon the clergy, upon whom ho 
drew bills, one of which was addressed to the Bishop of Worcester, 
who declared they might take his mitre in execution for the amount, 
and the Bishop of Gloucester said they might serve his the same; 
but if they did he would wear a helmet. Bichard, the king's brother, 
who was very wealthy, hearing that the German empire was in the 
market for sale, made a bold bid for it. There w r as another competitor 
for the lot in the person of Alphonso, king of Castile, but Bichard put 
down £700,000 and was declared the purchaser. This liberality was 
of course at the expense of poor England, which was so completely 
drained of cash that when Henry met his Parliament on the 2nd of 
May, 1258, he found the barons in full armour, rattling their swords, 
as much as to say, that these must furnish a substitute for the 
precious metals. 

Henry was alarmed at the menacing aspect of the assembly, but ono 
of his foreign half-brothers began vapouring, in a mixed patois of bad 
French, to the bent down, but not yet broken, English. The king him- 
self resorted to his old trick of promising, and pledged his word once 
more with his usual success, though it was already pawned over and 
over again for a hundred times its value. The barons, however, were 
still ready to take it in ; though they had got by them already an 
enormous stock of similar articles, all unredeemed, and daily losing 
their interest. The leader of the country party was at this time Simon 
de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, a Frenchman, who had married 



CHAP. I.] SALE OF THE GERMAN EMPIRE. 129 

Eleanor, the king's sister. Ho had quarrelled and made it up with 
Henry once or twice, and the following conversation is recorded to havo 
taken place, in 1252, between the earl and his sovereign : — 

" You are a traitor," said the king. 

" You are a liar ! " replied the courtier. 

After this brief and decisive dialogue Leicester went to France, but 
his royal brother-in-law soon invited him back again. 

On the 11th of June, 1258, there met, at Oxford, an assembly to 
w T hich the Eoyalists gave the name of the Mad Parliament. There 
was a good deal of method in the madness of the members, for they 
appointed twenty-four barons and bishops as a committee of govern- 
ment. There was some insanity in the proposition to hold three 
sessions in a year, but it is doubtful whether Dr. Winslow, or any 
other eminent physician would have found, in the statutes passed at 
the time sufficient to form the foundation of a statute of lunacy. 
Henry seems to have been most in want of Dr. Winslow's care, for 
his majesty was exceedingly mad at the decisive measures of the 
barons, and would have been glad of an asylum where he would have 
been safe from their influence. 

The Oxford Parliament, which was certainly an odd compound of 
good and bad, or light and dark — the regular Oxford mixture — passed 
some measures of a very miscellaneous character. The annual election 
of a new sheriff, and the sending to Parliament of four knights, 
chosen by the freeholders in each county, were judicious steps ; but 
in some other respects the barons abused their power, and got a good 
deal of abuse themselves in consequence. The queen's relations and 
the king's half-brothers were literally scared out of the kingdom ; but 
only to make way for the advancement of the friends and relatives of 
the Mad Parliament. 

Soon after it met, Eichard, who had emptied his pockets in Germany, 
wanted to come to England to replenish them. He was met at St. 
Omer by a messenger, stating that there would be no admittance un- 
less he complied with the new regulations made by the barons. To 
this he reluctantly consented, and he joined his brother the king, with 
the full intention of organising an opposition, which he found already 
commenced by the Earl of Gloucester, who had grown jealous of 
Leicester's influence. Even at that early period the struggles between 
the "Ins and the Outs," which form the chief business of political life, 
had already commenced, and there was the same sort of shuffling from 
side to side, and principle to principle, which the observer of states- 
manship at the present day cannot fail to recognise. 

There was among all parties a vast protestation of regard for Magna 
Charta, which served the same purpose then as has since been an- 
swered by the British Constitution and the British lion. Henry, 
seeing with delight the divisions of the barons, got a bull from the pope 
to serve as a piece of india-rubber for his conscience, by rubbing out 
all the oaths he had taken at Oxford. 

On the 2nd of February, 1261, he announced his intention of gov- 
erning without the aid of the committee, and immediately went to 
\he Tower, of which he took possession. He then dropped in at the 



130 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

Mint, where he emptied every till, and even waited, according to some, 
while a shilling, which was in the course of manufacture, got cool in 
the crucible. The Mint authorities were of course exceedingly ob- 
sequious, and may probably have offered to send him home a batch 
of new pennies that were not quite done, if his majesty desired it. 
" No, thank you," would have been Henry's reply, " I'll tako what 
you've got ; " and so he did, for off he marched with the whole of it. 

The arbitrary conduct of the barons had somewhat disgusted the 
people, many of whom had discovered that one tyrant was not quite 
so bad as four-and-twenty. London declared for Henry, and 
Leicester ran away; but the vacillating cockneys soon declared for 
Leicester, which brought him back again. The king, who had been 
at such pains to secure the Tower, had the mortification to find it 
secured him, for he was safely locked up in it. Prince Edward, his 
son, flew to Windsor Castle, and the queen, his mother, was going 
down to the stairs at London Bridge to take a boat to follow him. 
She had shouted " Hi ! " to the jack-in-the-watcr, and was stepping 
into a wherry, when she was recognised by the mob, who called after 
her as a witch, and pelted her with mud and missiles. The Lord 
Mayor, who happened to be passing, gallantly offered her his arm, 
walked with her to St. Paul's, and left her in the care of the door- 
keeper. This anecdote is circumstantially given by all the chroniclers, 
among whom we need only mention Wykes, West, and Trivet — the 
correctness of the last being so remarkable that "right as a Trivet" 
is to this day a proverb. After a prodigious quantity of quarrelling 
between Henry and Son en one part, and Leicester and Co. on the 
other, the matters in dispute were referred to the arbitration of the 
French king, Louis the Ninth, who made an award in favour of Henry, 
which the barons of course refused to abide by. A*civil war broke out 
with great fury, in which the Jews were victimised by both parties, 
though opposed, to neither. They were slaughtered by the barons for 
being attached to the king, and were also slaughtered by the king's 
party for being attached to the barons. If they were attached to 
either it certainly was one of the most unfortunate attachments wo 
ever heard of, and the strength of the attachment must have been 
great which could have survived such horrible treatment. 

On the 14th of May, 1264, the king's party and that of Leicester 
met in battle. His majesty was at Lewes, in a hollow, where he thought 
himself deep enough to have got into a position of safety. The carl 
was upon the Downs, which Wykes calls a "downy move," for the spot 
was raised, and commanded a view of the movements of the sovereign. 
Leicester commenced the attack, which soon became general. Prince 
Edward charged the London militia, who could have charged pretty 
well in return had they been behind their counters ; but they had no 
idea of selling their lives at any price. They accordingly fled in all 
directions, and the prince paid them off all he owed them for the man- 
ner in which they had served his mother. Leicester concentrated his 
force upon the king, to whom he gave personally a sound thrashing. 
Having cudgelled the monarch to his heart's content, he took him into 
custody. Prince Eclwaid was also seized, but the latter escaped on 



CHAr. 1. 1 CIVID WARS IN ENGLAND. 131 

the Thursday in Whitsun week, 1265, and raised a powerful force, 
with which he marched to Evesham against his father's enemies. 

Leicester had formed a camp near Kcnilworth, and having got the 
king still in his possession, he encased the poor old man in armour, 
put him on a horse, and turned him into the field on the morning of 
the battle. The veteran was soon dismounted, and was on the point 
of being killed, when he roared out " Hollo ! stop! I am Henry of 
"Winchester ! " His son recognising his voice, seized him and liter- 
ally bundled him into a place of safety. " "What do you do here? " 
muttered Edward, somewhat annoyed, but the aged Henry could not 
explain a circumstance which might have played old Harry with the 
cause of the Eoyalists. Leicester's horse fell under him, but the earl 
bounding to his feet, continued to light, until finding the matter 
getting serious, he paused to inquire whether the Eoyalists gave 
quarter. " There is no quarter for traitors," was the only reply he 
received, followed by a poke in the shape of a home-thrust from the 
sword of one of the enemy. Deprived of their leader, Leicester's 
followers had nothing to follow, and the Eoyalists obtained a victory. 
The king was now restored to power, but there were still a few rebels 
in the forest of Hampshire, one of whom, named Adam Gourdon, 
came to a personal contest with Erince Edward, who got him down, 
placed his foot on his chest, and generously restored him to liberty. 
Gourdon was introduced to the queen the same night as a sort of 
prize rebel, and became a faithful adherent to the royal family. 

Henry was now left at home all by himself, his son Edward having 
gone to Ealestine. The old man often wrote to request the prince to 
return, for his majesty found himself unequal to the bother of ruling 
a people still disposed to be occasionally turbulent. A sedition had 
broken out at Norwich, which Henry had gone to quell, and he was 
on his way back to London, when he was laid up at St. Edmund's 
Bury by indisposition. Being considered a slight illness, it was at 
first slighted, but the royal patient became worse, and he died on the 
16th of November, 1272, at the respectable age of sixty-eight, ac- 
cording to one historian,* sixty-four according to a second,! and 
cixty-six according to a third, t The last seems to be the nearest to 
the truth, for Henry had been a king about fifty-six years, and he 
was about ten when he came to the throne. He was buried at West- 
minster Abbey, where for nothing on Sundays and for twopence on 
week days, posterity may see his tomb. 

The character of Henry the Third was an odd compound, a species 
of physiological grog, a mixture of generous spirit and weak water, 
the latter predominating over the former in a vei»y considerable degree. 
He was exceedingly fond of money, of which he extracted such enor- 
mous quantities from his subjects, that if the heart and the pocket 
were synonymous, as they have sometimes been called, Henry would 
have had the fullest possession of the hearts of his people. His 
manner must have been rather persuasive ; for if the Barliament 
refused a subsidy at first they were always talked over by bis 

* Macffulauei t HimuCi J liapiu. 



132 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [COOK III, 

majesty, and made to relax their purse-strings before the sitting closed. 
Some gratitude may perhaps be due to him on account of his patron- 
age of literature, for he started the practice of keeping a poet, in an 
age when poets found considerable difficulty in keeping themselves. 
The bard alluded to was one Master Henry, who received on one 
occasion a hundred shillings,* and was subsequently " ordered ten 
pounds;" but, considering the unpunctuality of the king in money 
matters, it was doubtful whether the order for ten pounds was ever 
honoured. The persecution of the Jews was among the most remark- 
able features of the career of the king, who used to demand enormous 
sums of them, and threatened to hang them if they refused compliance. 
In this he only followed the example of his father, John, who, it is said, 
demanded ten thousand marks of an unfortunate Jew, one of whoso 
teeth was pulled out every day, until he paid the money. It is said 
by Matthew Paris f that seven were extracted before the cash was 
forthcoming. This was undoubtedly the fact, but it is not generally 
known, that, with the cunning of his race, the Jew contrived to get 
some advantage out of the treatment to which he was subjected. It 
is said that he exclaimed, after the last operation had been performed, 
" They don't know it, but them teeth was all decayed. There's not 
a shound von among the lot, so I've done 'cm nicely ; " and with this 
piece of consolation, he paid the money. 

To his reign has also been attributed the origin of the custom of 
sending deputies to Parliament to represent the commons, a practice 
that we find from looking over the list of the lower house, is liable to 
be in some cases greatly abused. " Take him for all in all," as the 
poet says, " we shall never " — that is to say, we hope we shall never 
— " look upon his like again." 

* Mados, p. 26ft. t Pa 8 c i6 <>. 



CHAP. II. j 



ACCESSION OP EDWARD THE FIRST. 



133 



CHAPTEK THE SECOND. 



EDWARD THE FIRST, SURNAMED LONG SHANKS. 



DWAED was the first 
king who came to the 
throne like a gentle- 
man, without any of 
that indecent clutching 
of the crown and sack- 
ing of the treasury 
which had been prac- 
tised by almost every 
one of his predecessors. 
Perhaps his absence 
from England was the 
chief cause of this for- 
bearance ; but it is at 
all events refreshing to 
meet with a sovereign 
whose accession was 
not marked by a bur- 
glary upon the premi- 
ses where the public 
treasure happened to be 
deposited. 

On the 20th of No- 
vember, 1272, four days 
after his father's death, 
Edward was proclaimed king by the barons at the New Temple. It 
was probably under the shade of the old fig-tree in Fig-Tree Court, 
that they read his titles of King of England, Lord of Ireland, and 
Duke of Aquitaine. Edward had been engaged in the crusades, as 
one of those fighting missionaries who conveyed "sermons in stones" 
through the medium of slings, and knocked unbelief literally upon the 
head with the Christian battle-axe. One day he nearly lost his life, 
by the hands of an assassin, disguised as a postman from the Emir 
of Jaffa, who, feigning a wish to be converted, had opened a corre- 
spondence with Edward. 

The English prince was lying in his robe-dc-cliambre on a couch, 
when the usual salaam — the emir's postman's knock — was made at 
the door of his apartment. The messenger had brought a letter, of 
which Edward had scarcely broken the wax, when his doom was 
nearly sealed by a blow from a dagger, hidden in the postman's sleeve. 
The prince parried the attack with his arms, which were his only 
Weapons, until, wresting the dirk from his assailant's hands, he used 
it to put a period to the existence of the would-be murderer, by a 




134 COMIC niSTOTlY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK ill. 

process of punctuation which no grammarian has attempted to 
describe. 

Edward's wound was not deep, but his enemies had been deep 
enough to introduce some venom into it. "When he heard the fact he 
gave himself up to despair, for he considered that his existence was 
irretrievably poisoned. A romantic story is told. of Queen Eleanor 
having sucked the poison, from her husband's arm, but it is quite 
certain that such succour was never afforded him, and the anecdote 
is therefore not worth the straw that the operation w r ould have 
required. The prince owed his recovery to the prompt attendance 
of an English surgeon, who happened to be settled at Acre, and to 
some drugs supplied by the Grand Master of the Templars, who 
opened his heart and his chest — of medicine — for the relief of the 
suffering Edward. There is no doubt that Eleanor had sufficient 
affection for her husband, to have prompted her to draw the poison 
into her mouth had it ever entered her head ; but the fact appears to 
be that the remedy was never thought of until a century after the 
infliction of the wound, which was a little too late to be of service to 
the patient, though nothing is ever too late to be made use of by the 
chroniclers. The notion was too good to be rejected by these very 
credulous gentlemen, who are easily induced to convert might have 
been, into has been, when the latter course is better adapted for 
exciting an agreeable interest. 

Feeling tolerably secure of the throne, he was in no hurry to tako 
possession, but enjoyed an agreeable tour before returning to England. 
He paid a visit to the new pope, his old friend Theobald, though 
there w T as some difficulty in getting into Theobald's road, for his 
holiness had left Eome for Civita Vecchia. Edward spent some 
time in Italy, for among the many irons he had in the fire were two 
or three Italian irons, which he desired to look after before arriving 
in his own country. He next visited Paris, and instead of coming 
straight home with the diligence that might have been expected, he 
turned back to Guienne, where he was invited by the Count of 
Chalons to a tournament. 

" 'Twas in the merry month of May," in the year 1274, "When 
bees from flower to flower did hum," exactly as they do in the present 
day, that the parties met lance to lance, each attended by a host 
<?r champions. Edward brought one thousand with him, but 
the Count of Chalons came with two thousand, an incident 
which at once raised a suspicion that the chivalrous knight 
intended foul play towards his royal antagonist. A tournament in 
sport soon became a battle in earnest, and the count rushed upon 
Edward, grasping him by the neck to embrace the opportunity of 
unhorsing him. Nothing, however, could make him resign his seat, 
and the Count of Chalons was soon licking the dust, or rather, the 
saw-dust spread over the arena in which the tournament was given. 
Edward was so angry at the trick which had been played, that ho 
hit his antagonist several times while down, and kept hammering at 
the armour of the count like a smith at an anvil. The Count of 
Chalons roared out lustily for mercy, but Edward refusing to grant 




r3 

■a 
2 



•a 



-1 



CHAP. II.] EDWARD'S ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND AND CORONATION. 137 

it, continued to "give it him " in another sense for several minutes. 
At length the count offered to surrender his sword, which was igno- 
miniously rejected by the English king, who called up a common 
foot soldier to take away the dishonoured weapon. 




Edward and the Count of Chalons. 

It was not till the year 1274 that Edward thought of returning to 
England, and he sent over to order his coronation dinner on a scale 
that would have done honour to a mayoral banquet. The bill of fare 
included so many heads of cattle, that the shortest way to get 
through the cooking would have been to light a fire under Leadenhall 
Market, and roast the whole of the contents by a single operation. 
If such a feast had really taken place, it was enough to put the times 
out of joint for a twelvemonth afterwards. On the 2nd of August, 
1274, Edward arrived at Dover, and on the 19th of the same month 
he was crowned at Westminster Abbey, with his wife, Eleanor. This 
was the wonderful woman who was erroneously alleged to have 
sucked the poison from her husband's arm, a feat that has had no 
parallel in modern times, if we except the individual who undertook 
to swallow liquid lead and arsenic before a generous British public, 
and who, by surviving the operation, gave great offence to a portion 
of the enlightened audience. Edward, on coming to England, found 
plenty of loyalty, but very little cash ; and though he had no objec- 
tion to reign in the hearts of his people, he felt the necessity of 
making himself also master of their pockets. A crown Ayithout 
money would have been a mere tin kettle, tied to the head, instead 
of the tail, of the unlucky dog who might be compelled to wear it 



138 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [nOOK III. 

The king turned his attention to the unfortunate Jews, who seemed 
to be tolerated in England as human bees, employed in collecting the 
sweets of wealth only for the purpose of having it taken away from 
them. Edward literally emptied them out of the kingdom, for the 
purpose of plundering their hives more effectually. He allowed some 
of them their travelling expenses out of England, but even this was 
more than they required in many cases, for the inhabitants of the 
ports saved the Jews the cost of their journey by most inhumanly 
drowning them. 

Edward, however unjust himself, disliked injustice in otkevs ; and 
indeed, with the common jealousy of dealers on a very large scale, ho 
seemed to desire a monopoly of all the robbery and oppression prac- 
tised within his own dominions. In the year 1289, the judicial bench 
was disgraced by a set of extortioners whose existence we can 
scarcely comprehend in the present age, when a corrupt judge would 
be as difficult to find as the philosopher's stone, or as that desirable 
but impossible boon to the briefless barrister, perpetual motion. The 
Chief Justice of the King's Bench had actually encouraged his own 
servants to commit murder, for the sake of the fees that would accrut; 
upon the trial, and, of course, the acquittal of the culprits. The Chief 
Baron of-the Exchequer had kept all the money paid into court upon 
every action that had been tried, and was even discovered going 
disgraceful snacks with the usher in illegal charges upon suitors. As 
to the puisnes, they had been detected in selling their judgments 
in banco at so much a folio, and even hiring pickpockets to rob the 
leading counsel as they went out of court with their fees in their 
pockets. The Chancellor had spent the money of nearly all his 
wards, and would never fix a day for a decree until he was positively 
forced, when he would pronounce a decision unintelligible to all 
parties. These disgraceful proceedings were made a pretext by the 
king for taking eighty thousand marks from the judges, his majesty 
observing, that if he took from them all the marks they possessed, he 
could not remove the stains from their characters. This shallow 
sophism, though it might have satisfied the king himself, was not 
consolatory to the judges, nor was it calculated to reimburse the 
people for the losses sustained by judicial delinquency. It is said 
that the first clock placed opposite the gate of Westminster Hall was 
purchased with a fine of eight hundred marks upon the Chief .lustice 
of the King's Bench, and the popular saying "that's your time of 
day" is supposed to have arisen from a sarcasm that used to be 
addressed by the crowd outside to the judicial delinquent. 

As a measure of further extortion, Edward became suddenly very 
particular as to the titles by which the nobles held their estates, and 
sent round commissioners to demand the production of the deeds by 
winch the barons acquired their property. Earl de Warenne was 
called upon among the rest, and desired that the commissioners might 
be politely shown in to him. " So, gentlemen," he mildly observed, 
" you wish to see the title by which I hold my property." " Exactly 
so," was the reply, winch was followed by a commonplace expression 
of sorrow a 1 : b dug obliged to trouble him. "It is no trouble in the 



CIIAP. II.] 



INVASION OF WALES. 



139 



least," rejoined Earl de Warenne, drawing a tremendous sword, which 
he brandished before the eyes of the commissioners, and begged their 
slose inspection of the title by which his ancestors had acquired his 
possessions. " You see, gentlemen," he continued, " there is no flaw 
to be detected, and if after looking at my title you want a specimen 
of my deeds, I can very speedily give you the satisfaction you require." 
The historian need scarcely add that the commissioners backed out, 




Earl tie Warenne producing his title to the Commissioners 

with an observation, " that a mere abstract of the title— a drawing of 
the sword out of its scabbard — was all that could possibly be required." 
Edward having other fish to fry, had hitherto neglected Wales, but 
that land of mountains was a scene of frequent risings, which he now 
determined to "put down " with promptitude and vigour. Llewellyn, 
the Prince of North Wales, was summoned to London to do homage 
as a tributary to the English crown, but his ambition having been 
fired by some prophecies of the famous Merlin, the fiery Welshman 
sent word that he would not come so far to see Edward, which was 
equivalent to a declaration that he would see him further. The 
English king having resolved to punish so much insolence, about 
Easter, 1277, crossed the Dee — not the sea, as some historians have 
alleged — with a largo army and blocked poor Llewellyn up in his own 
principality. His biothcr David having been made an English baron, 
and married to the daughter of an English carl, was at first devoted 



140 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

to the English, but his native breezes fanned the still dormant flame 
of patriotism, and he joined his brother in resisting the foreign enemy. 
Edward occupied Anglesey, but in crossing over to the mainland he 
found himself in the most dreadful straits at the Menai. He lost 
several hundred men, and was obliged to fly for protection to one of 
his castles, but a king in those days could make every Englishman's 
house his castle, by unceremoniously walking into it. Llewellyn was 
somewhat emboldened by partial success, and foolishly advanced to 
the valley of the Wye, without anyone knowing wherefore. Eoger, 
the savage Earl of Mortimer, was immediately down upon him, and 
sacrificed him before he had time even to put on his armour, in which 
he was only half encased when he was cruelly set upon by the enemy. 
He l«ad buckled on his greaves, and was in the act of putting on his 
breast-plate over his head when he was decapitated with the usual 
disregard which was at that time continually shown to the heads of 
families. His brother David kept cutting about the country with his 
sword in his hand for at least six months, until he was basely betrayed 
into the hands of the English. He was condemned to die the death 
of traitors, which included a series of barbarities too revolting to 
mention. This sentence, which formed a precedent in the punishment 
of high treason for many ages, is one of the most disgraceful facts of 
our history. It casts a stigma upon every Parliament and every 
generation of the people in whose time this fearful penalty either was 
or might have been inflicted. 

The leek of Wales was now entwined with the rose of England, 
and Edward endeavoured to propitiate his newly acquired subjects by 
becoming a resident in the conquered country. His wife Eleanor 
gave birth to a son in the castle of Caernarvon, and he availed 
himself of the circumstance to introduce the infant as a native pro- 
duction, giving him the title of Prince of Wales, which has ever since 
been held by the eldest son of the English sovereign. After remaining 
about a year in Wales, Edward was enabled by the tranquillity of the 
kingdom to take a Continental tour, in the course of which he was 
often appealed to as a mutual friend by sovereigns between whom 
there was any difference. He acted as arbitrator in the celebrated 
cause of Anjou against Aragon ; but while settling the affairs of others, 
his own were getting rather embarrassed, and he was compelled in 
the year 1289 to return to England. 

Upon reaching home he found that Scotland was in that state of 
weakness which offered an eligible opportunity to a royal plunderer. 
The king, Alexander the Third, had died, leaving a little grandchild 
of the name of Margaret, as his successor. This young lady was the 
daughter of Eric, king of Norway, who wrote over to Edward, requesting 
he would do what he could for her in case of her title being disputed. 
The English sovereign, with a cunning worthy of a certain French 
old gentleman whom we need not name, recommended a marriage 
with his son as the best mode of protecting the royal damsel. The 
preliminaries were all arranged, and Eric had agreed to forward the 
little Margaret, who was only eight years of age, by the first boat 
from Norway to Britain. The child had been shipped and regularly 



CHAP. II.] 



CLAIMANTS FOE THE SCOTTISH CROWN. 



HI 



invoiced, when she fell ill, and being put ashore at one of the 
Orkney Islands, she unfortunately died. 

On the death of the queen being made known, claimants to the 
Scottish crown started up in all directions, and it was necessary to 




King Edward introducing his Son as Prince of Wales, to his newly acquired Subjects. 

find the heir by hunting among the descendants of David of Hunt- 
ingdon. John Baliol was the grandson of David's eldest daughter, 
and John's grandmother therefore gave Baliol a right to the crown, 
which was disputed by Bruce and Hastings, the sons of the youngest 
daughters of Huntingdon senior, whose only son, Huntingdon 
junior, died without issue. An opening was thus left to the female 
branches, and the introduction of those charming elements of discord 
— the ladies — into the question of succession, created, of course, all 
bhe confusion that arose. 

Edward, having advanced to Norham, a small town on the English 
side of the Tweed, which, as everyone knows, forms a kind of 



142 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III, 

Tweedish wrapper for Scotland, appointed a conference, which took 
place on the 10th of May, 1291, at which he distinctly stated that 
he intended regulating the succession to the Scotch throne. At this 
meeting Edward himself proposed the first resolution, which pledged 
the assembly to a recognition of the right of the English king not 
only to do what he liked with his own, but to do what he liked with 
Scotland also, which did not belong to him. One gentleman, in the 
body of the assembly, who remains anonymous to this day, ventured 
to suggest by way of amendment, that no answer could be made 
while the throne was vacant, and an adjournment until the next 
morning was agreed upon. No business was, however, done on the 
morrow, but a further postponement till the 2nd of June was 
eventually carried. When that day arrived the attendance was 
numerous and highly respectable, for on the platform we mi^ht have 
observed no less than eight competitors for the crown. Robert 
Bruce, who was there in excellent health and spirits, publicly 
declared his readiness to refer his claims to Edward's arbitration, 
and all the other claimants did the same. On the next day, Baliol 
made his appearance and followed the example of the others, and it 
was agreed that one hundred and four commissioners should be 
appointed to inquire and report to Edward previous to his giving his 
final award. There is little doubt that this enormous number of 
commissioners could only have been intended to mystify the case, 
and to leave Edward at liberty to settle it his own w r ay ; a suspicion 
that is still further justified by his having reserved the right to add, 
without any limit or restriction, to the number of commissioners, and 
thus make " confusion worse confounded" should occasion require. 

The wily Edward, pretending that it was necessary to the 
performance of his duty as ax'bitrator, got the kingdom, the castles, 
and other property surrendered into his hands on the 11th of June ; 
though the Earl of Angus refused to give up Dundee and Forfar 
without an indemnity, which he stoutly stuck up for, and eventually 
obtained. None of the clergy joined in this disgraceful concession 
but the Bishop of Sodor, who ought to have been the very first to 
effervesce. The king himself went to the principal towns in Scotland 
with the rolls of homage, which were allowed to lie for signature, 
and he sent attorneys, empowered to take affidavits, into the various 
villages. 

At length, on the 3rd of August, the commissioners met for the 
despatch of business, and, of course, came to no decision. I:i the year 
following they tackled the subject again, but it was found that the 
more they talked about it, the more they differed. Edward, by way 
of complicating the affair still further, summoned a Parliament to 
meet at Berwick on the 15th of October, 1292, at which Bruce and 
Baliol were fully heard, when the assembly laid down a general 
proposition that the lineal descendant of the eldest sister, however 
remote in degree, was preferable to the nearer in degree, if descended 
from a younger sister. This decision left everything undecided, and 
accordingly Edward gave judgment that Bahol should bo king 
of Scotland, with the simple proviso that Edward should K' king of 



CHAr. II.] WILLIAM WALLACE. 143 

Baliol. The whole affair having been "a sell" got up between the 
English sovereign and the Scottish claimant, there was no demur on 
the part of the latter, who swore fealty, as he would have sworn that 
black was white, had such been the purport of the oath that his 
master required. 

Edward took every opportunity of bullying Baliol, and even ordered 
him to come all the way to Westminster to defend an action brought 
against him for money due from Alexander the Third, his great- 
grandfather. He was also served with process in the paltry suit of 
self ats Macduff; and other writs, to which he was forced to appear 
in person, were continually served upon him. For the smallest 
pecuniary claim the Scotch king was compelled to come to England 
to plead, until his patience at last gave way, and he turned refractory. 

Edward was now at war with Philip of France, whom Baliol 
agreed to serve by harassing their mutual enemy. The Scotch king, 
who was at heart a humbug and a coward to the core, became 
exceedingly insolent, from the belief that Edward was somewhat 
down, and the proper time had arrived for hitting him. The English 
sovereign, who had been harassed at first by the Scotch cur, soon 
brought him howling for mercy, which was accorded on condition of 
his resigning the kingly office, a proposition which Baliol basely sub- 
mitted to. Edward made a triumphal progress through Scotland, 
and taking a fancy to an old stone, upon which the kings had sat to 
be crowned at Scone, caused the very uncomfortable coronation chair 
to be removed to Westminster.* The people of Scotland had always 
considered this block to be the corner-stone of their liberties, and its 
removal seemed to take away the only foundation that their hopes of 
regaining their independence were built upon. As long as it was in 
their country, they believed it would bring them good fortune ; but 
they dreaded the reverse if the stone should be removed even so far 
as a stone's throw from the borders of Scotland. Edward having 
appointed the Earl de Warenne governor of the vanquished kingdom, 
and given away all the appointments that were vacant to creatures 
of his own, returned in triumph to England. 

In the year 1297 William Wallace, commonly known as the hero 
of Scotland, made his first appearance on the stage of history as a 
supernumerary, carrying a banner, for we find him engaged in unfurl- 
ing the standard of liberty. He was at first merely the captain of a 
small band of outlaws — a sort of first robber — in the great drama in 
which he was soon to sustain a principal character. He was the 
second son of Sir William Wallace, of Ellerslie, and had all the 
qualities of a melodramatic hero, so far at least as we are enabled to 
judge by a description of him written a hundred years after his 
death with that minuteness which the old chroniclers were so fond 
of adopting when they knew that no one had the power of contra- 
dicting them. The celebrated Bower, who continued the Scoti- 
chronicon of Fordun, tells us that Wallace was " broad-shouldered, 
big-boned, and proportionately corpulent," so that his shoulders 



144 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[liOOK III. 



were broad enough to bear the burden he undertook ; and his being 
corpulent gave him this advantage over his enemies, that if they had 

fifty thousand lives, ho had un- 
doubtedly " stomach for them all." 
Mr. Tytler, who will perhaps 
excuse us for venturing on Tytler' s 
ground, informs us in his History 
of Scotland that " Wallace had an 
iron frame," so that we have the 
picture of the man at once before 
us. For a quarrel with an English 
officer he had been banished from 
his home, and by living in fastnesses 
he acquired some of those loose- 
nesses which are inseparable from 
a roving character. His followers 
comprised a few men of desperate 
fortunes and bad reputation, who 
had turned patriots, as gentlemen 
in difficulties generally do ; for it is 
a remarkable fact, that the men 
who endeavour to discharge a debt 
to their country are those who 
never think of discharging the debts 
which they owe to their creditors. 
Success, however, covers a multi- 
tude of sins, and Wallace with his 
little band of outlaws, having 
achieved one or two small tri- 
umphs, soon found out the fact 
that the world which sneers at the very noblest cause in its early 
struggles, will always be ready to join it in the moment of 
victory. Wallace having been fortunate in his efforts, soon had the 
co-operation of Sir William Douglas and all his vassals ; just as 
Mr. Cobden and the Anti-Corn-Law League, after having been 
denounced as turbulent demagogU3s, and threatened with prosecu- 
tion, were assisted on the eve of the fulfilment of their object by 
the leaders of the Opposition and the principal members of the 
Government. 

Edward, who had been in Flandars during the commencement of 
the Scotch rebellion, now returned to England, and byway of pro- 
pitiating his subjects, he summoned a Parliament, at which Magna 
Charta was again voluntarily confirmed. It is true he made a 
cunning effort to insert at the end of it the words "saving always the 
rights of our crown," * which would have been almost equivalent to 
striking out all the other clauses of the document. The Parliament 
hotly opposed the crafty suggestion, which was accordingly with- 
drawn, and supplies for carrying on the war against the Scotch 




Portrait of William W r allace, from an 
old Wood Block. 



* Rapin, vol. iii., p. 72, second edition, quarto, 1727. 



CIIAr. II. | BATTLE OP FALKIRK. 115 

insurgents were readily granted. In the summer of 1298, Edward 
came in person to Scotland at the head of a large army. Wallace, 
instead of waiting for a battle, retired slowly before the forces of the 
English king, clearing off all the provisions on the way, and thus 
aiming a blow at the stomach of the enemy. The invaders advanced, 
but there was nothing to eat ; or as Mr. Tytler well expresses it, 
" they found an inhospitable desert" where — he might have added — 
ihey had occasion for a hospitable dinner. Wallace was now at 
Falkirk, from which he meditated an attack upon the king, but 
Edward, having been apprised of his intention, reflected that it was 
a game at which two could play, and he thought it as well to secure 
the first innings. The English king accordingly, finding the ball at 
his foot, took it up immediately, and at once bowled out the Scottish 
hero. The battle of Falkirk, was fought on the 22nd of July, 1298, 
and the Scotch loss is variously stated at ten, fifteen, and sixty 
thousand men. In ordinary matters'- it is sometimes safe to believe 
half that we hear, but it would be more judicious to limit one's trust 
to ten per cent, in the records of history. 

The Scotch war had of course been a very expensive business, and 
Edward had been sponging upon his subjects to an alarming extent 
during its continuance. In 1294 he had taken from the clergy half 
their incomes and nearly all their eatables. His purveyors first 
emptied their granaries, then robbed their farm-yards and ultimately 
pillaged their pantries ; so that the king having already ransacked 
their pockets, the " reverend fathers," as he insultingly termed them, 
were in a very pretty predicament. Their larders were laid waste, 
their safes were no longer safe, they could not preserve their jam, 
their corn was instantly sacked, and even their joints of meat, from 
the leg to the loin, were walked off or pur-loined by the order of the 
sovereign. The pope, who had been applied to for protection 
when they were being deprived of their cattle, sent over a 
bull, which proved of very little use, for he soon despatched a 
second, by which the first was recalled in all its most important 
provisions. 

The trading classes were not so easily robbed, for when the king 
began to deal with them in his own peculiar fashion, he found them 
rather awkward customers. Some wool had been prepared for ship- 
ping by the London merchants, when the king's agents came wool- 
gathering to the wharfs, and carried it off with a high hand for the 
use of the sovereign. It is true they promised to pay, and ordered 
the owners to put it down to the bill ; but the traders determined 
that they could not do business in that manner. They were joined 
by some of the nobles, and among others by Hereford, the constable, 
and Norfolk, the marshal of England, who had a joint audience of 
his majesty, who threatened to hang them if they did not do his 
bidding. " I will neither do so, nor hang, sir king," was Norfolk's 
reply, in which Hereford acquiesced ; so that it was evident Edward 
could neither trample on the marshal, nor any longer overrun 
the constable. Thirty bannerets and fifteen hundred gentlemen 
whom the king had dubbed knights joined the two nobles in their 



11G COMIC II1STOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

refusal to dub up,* and Edward was loft almost alone. In this 
dilemma lie appealed to the people by the old trick of an effective 
speech, interlarded with those clap-traps which he knew so w T ell how 
to employ. He caused a platform to be erected at the door of 
Westminster Hall, and appeared upon it, supported by his son 
Edward, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Earl of Warwick. 
Like the schoolmaster who never administered a flogging without 
saying it hurt him a great deal more than the boy, the king told the 
people that it was more grievous to him to exact taxes from his dear 
people than it could be to them to bear the burden. " 1 am going," 
lie exclaimed, " to expose myself to all the dangers of war for your 
sakes." and here he pulled out his pocket-handkerchief, behind which 
he winked at the Archbishop of Canterbury, who thrust his tongue 
into his cheek to show the prelate's relish for his master's hypocrisy. 
" If 1 return alive," continued the royal humbug, " I will make you 
amends for the past ; but if I fall, here is my dear son (step this way, 
Ned), place him on the throne (hold your head up, stupid), and his 
gratitude (bow, you blockhead) will be the reward of your fidelity." 
Here ho fairly swamped his face in tears, while the archbishop 
turned on a couple of fountains, which came gushing through his 
eyes, and the meeting w r as literally dissolved by the practice of this 
piece of crying injustice towards the people. Not only had he 
melted the hearts of the traders by this manoeuvre, but he drew 
streams of coin for the liquidation of his debts from their pockets. 
With the cash thus collected he started to join Guy, Earl of Flanders, 
against Philip le Bel, a very pretty sort of fellow, between whom and 
Edward there was a contest for the possession of the daughter of the 
Guy, the fair Philippa. The English king had, as early as 1291, 
contracted a marriage for the Prince of Wales with this young lady, 
who was only nine when the match was agreed upon. The happi- 
ness of the Flemish infant of course went for nothing in the game of 
craft and ambition which was being played by the intriguing French 
king, who had no other object but the extension of his personal 
influence. Though he may have been the first, he was certainly not 
the last Philip on the throne of France to force the inclinations of 
royal children on the subject of marriage for his own purposes. 

Edward the Fourth had expended a large amount of English money 
in purchasing the support of foreign mercenaries, who had no sooner 
spent their wages than they discontinued their services. The English 
king, finding he was likely to get the w r orst of it, concluded a truce 
in the spring of 1298, and left the unfortunate Guy to fight his own 
battles. 

Before Edward's return home, the London citizens refused to pay 
the taxes, on the ground of their not having been imposed by the 
consent of Parliament. Many a tax-gatherer lost his time and his 
temper in going from door to door, and was told, tauntingly, to 
collect himself, when he sought to collect money for the royal treasury. 
The king, who was at Ghent, tried the never-failing experiment of 

* Hcaiing. 



CHAr. II.] 



OPPOSITION TO THE TAXES. 



147 



another confirmation of Magna Charta, with the addition of what he 
called — in a private letter to his son — " a little one in," namely, a 
confirmation of the Statute dc Tallagio non couccdendo, which was an 
act declaring that no talliage or aid should be levied without the con- 
sent of the Parliament. This was the first occasion upon which the 
nation was formally invested with the sole right of raising the supplies, 
but the investment, after all, was not particularly eligible, as the sole 
right of raising the supplies carries with it the sole duty of finding the 
money. Not content with his confirmation of the charter, Ed vard, 




Tax Collecting in the Reign of Edward the First. 

in May, 1298, was called upon to ratify, at York, the confirmation 
itself, and thus spread with additional butter the constitutional bacou. 
This he for some time evaded by a series of paltry excuses, in which 
"head-ache," "previous engagement," and "out of town," were 
pleaded from time to time, until the barons, by following him up, 
got him into a cul dc sac from which there was no escaping. He 
consented at last to ratify, but, in the most dishonourable manner, he 
contrived while signing to smuggle in a clause at the end, which, by 
saving the right of the Crown, rendered the whole document a 
wretched nullity. This was a trick he was much addicted to, for he 
had tried the paltry subterfuge on a previous occasion. The barons, 
when they saw the addition, merely shook their heads, murmured 

L — 2 



148 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

something about " a do," and returned to their homes ; but Edward 
thought he should find no difficulty in coming over the citizens. He 
accordingly called a meeting in St. Paul's Churchyard, when the con- 
firmation was read over, amid cheers, and cries of " Hear " at the end 
of every clause, until the last, when the shouts of " Shame ! " " No, 
no ! " " It's a dead swindle ! " and " Don't you wish you may get it?" 
became truly terrible. Edward retained his usual self-possession 
during the meeting, but expressed, in side speeches to his attendants, 
his fears that the citizens were not such fools as he had taken them 
for. Making a virtue of necessity — though, by the way, virtues made 
out of that material very seldom appear to fit, but sit very awkwardly 
on the wearer — he withdrew the offensive clause at a Parliament that 
was held soon after Easter. 

Edward and Philip, finding it convenient to make up their differ- 
ences, threw overboard their respective allies, the French king giving 
up the Scots, and the English sovereign completely sacrificing the 
poor old Guy of Flanders. This earl has got the name of the 
Unfortunate, but he better deserves the title of the soft Guy, the silly 
Guy, or the Guy that, if there happened to be a difficulty within his 
reach, was sure to blunder into it. He had twice been fool enough 
to accept an invitation from Philip, and had twice been detained as 
a prisoner. "We therefore have little sympathy with him when we 
hear of his being deserted by Edward; for "the man who" will 
continually run his head into a noose, must expect to find the stringency 
of the string at some time or another. 

Peace was made between the French and English kings by means 
of two marriages ; but it seems rash to calculate upon matrimony as 
a source of quietude. Edward, who was a widower, married Philip's 
sister, Margaret, and the Prince of Wales was affianced to little 
Isabella, aged only six years, the daughter of the French sovereign. 
A treaty was concluded between the two countries on the 20th of May, 
1303, by which Edward took Guienne, and gave up Flanders. The 
unhappy Guy was sent thither to negotiate a peace with his own sub- 
jects, but, like everything else he undertook, the poor old man made 
a sad mess of it. Returning to Philip with the news of his failure, he 
was committed to prison, which really, considering all things, seems 
to have been the best place for him. He was, at all events, out of 
harm's way, and prevented from doing mischief to himself and others 
by his provoking stupidity. He remained in custody till he died, but 
it was said of him by a contemporary that he was never known to 
" look alive " during the whole of his existence. 

Edward, having settled his dispute with France, had time to turn 
his attention to Scotland, which had always been his "great difficulty,' 
as Ireland became the " great difficulty " to England at a later period. 
The English king advanced against the Scotch in a sort of hop-scotch 
style, first making for the North, then returning to the South, or 
going to the East, in a zig-zag direction. The Scots soon surrendered, 
and were allowed to go scot-free, with a very few exceptions. Stirling 
Castle proved itself possessed of sterling qualities. It held out against 
the besiegers with determined obstinacy, and Edward himself came 



CHAP. II.] ROBERT BRUCE — DEATH OP EDWARD. 149 

to assist by throwing stones, which caused the remark to be made 
that the king had been brought to a very pretty pitch through the 
audacity of the Scotch rebels. When the provisions were exhausted, 
the garrison made an unprovisional surrender, and the governor gave 
out that he gave in, with all his companions. Wallace, having been 
betrayed into Edward's power, was cruelly murdered ; but within six 
months of his death, Liberty, like a new-born infant, was in arms 
once more in Scotland. Eobert Bruce, the grandson of old Bruce, 
was the new champion of his native land, and intrusted his scheme 
to Comyn. The latter proved treacherous, and Bruce, seeing what 
was Comyn, or rather, what Comyn was, killed him right oil" out of 
the way, in a convent at Dumfries. Young Bruce having mustered 
a party of about a dozen friends, took an excursion with them to Scone, 
where, in the course of a kind of picnic party, he was crowned on 
the 27th of March, 1306, with some solemnity. Edward was at 
Winchester when he heard the news, and, though very far from well, 
he determined on being carried to Scotland. Like John, who had 
been dragged about the country in a horse-box till within a few hours 
of his death, Edward was packed on a litter and conveyed with care 
to Carlisle, whence he wished to be forwarded to Scotland. Making 
a desperate effort, he mounted his horse, and went six miles in four 
days, a pace which could only have been performed by an equestrian 
prodigy ; for the slowest animal, unless he were a determined jibber, 
could scarcely have accomplished a task so difficult.* This any - 
thing but " rapid act of horsemanship " w T as the last act of Edward's 
reign, for having got to Burgh upon the Sands, he found the sand of 
his existence had run out, on the 7th of July, 1307. He had lived 
sixty-eight years, and had reigned during half that time ; so that for 
him the stream of life had been a sort of half and half — an equal mix- 
ture — crowned by a frothy, foamy diadem. His remains were, somo 
short time afterwards, sent to Westminster, via Waltham, and were 
buried on the 8th of October, with those of his father Henry. 

The character of Edward has been generally praised, but we are 
compelled to tender a bill of exceptions to the report of previous 
historians. He certainly added to his dominions, but if this is a 
merit, it may be claimed for any man who, by fraud or violence, 
increases his own property at the expense of his neighbours. Tho 
improvements effected in his reign were rather in spite of him than 
owing to his sense of justice or his liberality. Ho had the talent of 
talking people out of their money, but this quality he has only shared 
with many equally accomplished, but less exalted, swindlers. His 
attempt to smuggle a clause into Magna Charta, before the face of 
the citizens, was an act calculated to ruin him in the City, where 
putting one's hand to paper is a proceeding that must not be trifled 
with. His treatment of Wallace proves him to have been a cruel 
and vindictive enemy ; his abandonment of the poor Earl of Flanders 
shows that he was an insincere and treacherous friend : he was con- 

* It is possible that the horse hired by the kiner on this occasion may have been 
accustomed to draw a fly, the owner of which may have been in the habit of charging 
by the hour. 






150 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[UOOE 111, 



stant to his hatreds, and fickle in his likings: his animosity had the 
strength of fire, but in him the milk of human kindness was greatly 
diluted with water. He made some good laws, such as the statute 
of mortmain, which was first passed in his reign, but so far from 
there being any truth in the proverb, nccessitas non habct legem, it is 
certain that necessity produced nearly every good law that Edward 
gave to his people. 

In person, he was a head taller than the ordinary size, with black 
hair that curled naturally, and eyes that matched the hair in colour.* 
His legs were too long in proportion to his body, which gained him 
the nickname of Longshanks, though it would have been more 
respectful to have called him Daddy Long-legs, in allusion to his 
being the father of his people. 

He observed the outward decencies of life, but in this he evinced 
the strength of his hypocrisy rather than the extent of his morality. 
It may be worthy of remark, that the title of baron, which had 
hitherto been common to all gentlemen who held lands of the crown, 
was in this reign restricted to those whom the king called to Parlia- 
ment, f During the monarchy of Edward, Roger Bacon lived and died ; 
but as we have already expressed our antipathy to putting butter upon 
Bacon, we refrain from any eulogy upon that illustrious character. 



CHAPTER THE THIRD. 

EDWARD THE SECOND, SUItNAMED OF CAERNARVON. 

D WARD the Second was, in corn- 
P mon phraseology, a very nice young 
man when he came to the throne, 
being twenty-three years of age, 
and tolerably good-looking, though 
he turned out eventually, accor- 
ding to one of the chroniclers of the 
times, " a very ugly customer." 
His first step on coming to the 
throne was to send for a scamp 
named Piers Gaveston, a Gascon 
youth who was full of gasconade, 
and had been sent out of England 
by the late king as an improper 
character. Young Edward, who 
had been much attached to this 
early specimen of the gent., re- 
called Piers Gaveston, and made 
him a nobleman by creating him Duke of Cornwall, but never 

• Rapin, vol. iii., p. 8S. 

| The last of the Non-Parliamentary barons is the well-known Baron Nathan of 
Eeuuinglon. He still claims a seat among the Piers of Gravesend and lloslicrville. 




chap, in.] edward's rAni'iALitv for gavesTox. 151 

succeeded in making him a gentleman. This step was in direct 
violation of a solemn promise to Edward the First, who had warned 
his son against Gavcston, as a bad young man and by no means a 
desirable acquaintance for an English sovereign. Directly Piers 
arrived, he and his young master began to play all sorts of tricks 
and, by way of change, dismissed the Chancellor, the Treasurer, the 
Barons of the Exchequer, and all the Judges. The whole of the 
judicial staff of the kingdom being thrown out of employ, a panic 
was created in all the courts, and some of their lordships, being 
unable to meet the demands upon them, were compelled to go to 
prison. Many were stripped of all their property by the king, at the 
instigation of Gaveston, and the Chancellor not only lost the seals, 
but his watch, and a number of other articles of value. Edward 
and his friend were determined to pay off those who had been instru- 
mental to the latter's disgrace, and among others, Langton, the 
Bishop of Lichfield, w r as put into solitary confinement, no one being 
allowed to speak to him, so that the unfortunate Lichfield found him- 
self literally sent to Coventry. Gaveston, who was a dashing young 
spark, nearly sent England in a blaze by his return, for he was very 
far from popular. He could dance and sing, was passionately fond 
of bagatelle, and as to wine, when he took it into his head he could 
always drink his bottle, 

Edward went over to Boulogne, in January, 1308, to get married 
to Isabella, the daughter of the king of France, and left Gaveston 
regent of the kingdom. His majesty soon got tired of a French 
watering-place, and returned to England for his coronation, which 
took place on the 24th of February, at Westminster. All the 
honours were showered upon Gaveston, and instead of giving the 
perquisites to the proper officers, the king handed them over, one by 
one, to the favourite. " Put that in your pocket, Piers, my boy," 
exclaimed Edward, as he transferred to his disreputable friend each 
article that some officer of state was entitled to. The English 
nobility, as they saw everything passing into the hands of the 
Gascon, could only murmur to each other, "What a shame!" 
" That's mine, by rights ! " and " Well, I never ! Did you ever ? " 
But the Bishop of Winchester gave his majesty a dose, by mixing up 
a pretty strong oath and making him swallow every word of it. He 
undertook of course to confirm the Charter, which really becomes 
quite a bore to the historian, who cannot help feeling something of 
the satiety induced by toujours perdrix, and he draws the humili- 
ating conclusion that his countrymen, having got hold of a good 
thing, never knew when they had had enough of it. Gaveston's 
conduct became so overbearing, that a regular British cry of 
"Turn him out!" resounded from one end of the kingdom to 
the other. Englishmen seldom do things by halves, and having 
once raised a shout, they did not desist from it, but to the 
howl of "Turn him out," they added a demand for the sovereign 
to "Throw him over!" With this requisition Edward reluc- 
tantly complied, and Gaveston was expelled from England ; but 
only to be made Governor of Ireland, until the king could get the 



152 



COMIC niSTORY OP ENGLAND, 



["BOOK III. 



permission of the barons to allow the favourite to come back again. 
This, with their usual imbecility, they speedily agreed to, and Piers 
soon returned to the court, which he filled with buffoons and 
parasites. Any mountebank who could make a fool of himself was 
sure of an engagement at the palace. The king's horse-collars were 
worn out with being grinned through, and the family circle of 
royalty was never without a clown to the ring, under the manage- 
ment of Piers Gaveston. The favourite himself became so arrogant 
that he would dress himself up in the royal jewels,* wearing the 
crown instead of his own hat, and turning the sceptre into a 
walking-stick. 

Edward, being in want of supplies, called a Parliament in 1309, but 
the Parliament would not come, which caused him to call again; and 




Edward the Second and his Favourite, Tiers Gaveston. 



the more he kept on calling the more they kept on not coming, until 
the month of March, 1310, when they came in arms, for they were 
determined no longer to submit to Gaveston's insolence. He had 
offended their order by giving them all sorts of nicknames, which are 
less remarkable for their wit than their coarseness. He called the 
Earl of Lancaster an old hog, or, perhaps, a dreadful bore; to 

* 11 joignoit a eclaune vanite ridicule, en effectant de porter sur sa jicrsomie 
lesjoyaux du Rui ct de la couronne me me. — Rapin, vol. iii., j>. 94. 



CHAI\ III.] BANISHMENT OP GAVESTON. 153 

Warwick he gave the name of the Black Dog, in reply, perhaps, to 
an insinuation that he, Gaveston, was a puppy; and the Earl of 
Pembroke was alliteratively alluded to as " .Toe the Jew,"* by tho 
abusive but not very facetious favourite. 

In August, 1311, Edward met the barons at Westminster. Their 
lordships would seem to have all got out of bed on the wrong side on 
the morning of the assembly, for their surliness and ill-temper were 
utterly unparalleled. They prepared forty-one articles, to which 
they insisted on having the consent of his majesty. Of course, in 
the catalogue of claims our old friend Magna Charta was not forgotten. 
This glorious instrument of our early liberties, was once more 
touched up, and a new clause introduced, which imparted freshness 
to the document. It provided " that the king should hold a Parlia- 
ment once a year, or twice if need be," as if the barons had been 
impressed with the idea that " the more the merrier " was a sound 
maxim of politics. The banishment of Gaveston was, however, the 
grand desideratum, and this was at length consented to by Edward, 
who on the 1st of November, 1311, took leave of the favourite. His 
majesty retired to York, but soon began to ask himself — " What's 
this dull town to me?" in the absence of Piers, who, in less than 
two months, was again sharing the dissipations of his sovereign. The 
royal party had gone for a change to Newcastle, when the cry of 
" somebody coming " disturbed the revels of the king and his courtiers. 
This unwelcome " somebody " was no less a personage than Edward's 
cousin, the Earl of Lancaster, who had arrived with a few barons for 
the purpose of, as they said, " giving it " to Gaveston. The king and 
the favourite escaped from Newcastle in a ship — probably a collier — 
but the sovereign was heartless enough to leave his wife behind him 
with the utmost indifference. It was saave qui pent with the whole 
court, and the queen was lost in the general scamper. The favourite, 
after running as hard as he could, threw himself, quite out of 
breath, into Scarborough Castle, which was strong in everything 
but eatables, for the supply of provisions was perfectly con- 
temptible. Piers Gaveston, who had never been accustomed to 
short commons, went to the window of the castle, and calling 
out to the Earl of Pembroke, who was waiting outside, proposed to 
capitulate. "Can we come to any terms?" cried Piers; but the 
earl would at first hear of nothing short of an unconditional surrender. 
After some parleying, Pembroke exclaimed, " I'll tell you what I'll 
do for you. If you choose to place yourself in my hands, I'll promise 
to take you to your own castle at Wallingford." "You're not 
joking? " cried Gaveston, as he looked through the rusty bars of the 
fortress. " Honour bright," was the substance of the earl's reply, and 
Piers put himself at once into the hands of Pembroke. It was arranged 
that the king should meet the favourite at Wallingford; but one 
morning, on the road, he was ordered out of bed at an unusually 
early hour, when whom should he see, upon going downstairs, but 
the grim Earl of Warwick ! Gaveston began to feel that it was all 



Vide Rapln, toI. iii., p. 95, and also a Note in Lingard. 



154 



comic nisTonv op England. 



[book hi. 



c.p with him. Putting him on a mule, they conveyed him to Warwick 
Castle, where a hurried council was got; up — the Duke of Lancaster 
in the chair — for his trial. He was, of course, condemned, when he 
threw himself for pardon at the feet of Lancaster, who kicked him 
aside, and all the rest gave him a lesson on the Lancastrian system 
by a similar indignity. A proposition was made in the body of the 
hall to spare his life, but somebody exclaimed that " Gaveston had 
been the cause of all their difficulties, and that, when a difficulty 
came in the way, the best plan was to break the neck of it." The 
stern justice of this remark w y as instantly acknowledged, and amid 
savage cries of " Bring him along ! " they dragged the favourite off to 
Blacklow Hill, where, by removing his head from his shoulders, they 
made what may be called short work of him. Upon hearing the 
news, the king cried for grief and then cried for vengeance. After 




Taiky between Tiers Gaveston and the Earl of reml>rol:e. 



CHAP. III. J BATTLE OP BANNOCK BUBX. 155 

reconciling himself to his loss, he reconciled himself to the barons, 
and the double reconciliation was greatly assisted by the barons 
having given up to him (a.d. 1313) the plate and jewels of the 
deceased favourite. 

Edward, on looking round him, found that the " Scots whom 
Bruce had often led " were making considerable progress. The 
English king at once ordered an army to meet him at Berwick, 
and by a given day one hundred thousand men had assembled. 
Bruce had got scarcely forty thousand, so that the chances were 
more than two to one against him. He took them into a field near 
Bannockburn, and spread them out so as to make the very most 
of them. On Sunday, the 23rd of June, 1314, Edward and his army 
came in sight. After some desultory fighting, the monotony of the 
day's proceedings was relieved by a somewhat curious incident. 
Bruce, who seems to have been rather eccentric in his turn-out, was 
riding on a little bit of a pony, quite under the duty imposed upon it, 
in front of his troops. He wore upon his head a skullcap, over that 
a steel helmet, and over that a crown of gold, while in his hand he 
carried an enormous battle-axe. He and his Shetland were frisking 
about, when an English knight, one Henry do Bohun, or Boone, 
came galloping down, armed at all points, upon a magnificent British 
dray-horse. Bruce, instead of getting out of the way, entered into 
the" unequal combat amid cries of "Go it, Bob!" from his own 
followers. He instantly fell upon and felled to the earth the English 
knight, amid the acclamations of the surrounding soldiers. The 
battle was very vigorously fought on both sides, and victory seemed 
doubtful, when suddenly there appeared on a hill, at the back of the 
Scotch, an immense crowd that looked like a new army. The group, 
in reality, consisted of nothing but a mob of suttlers and camp- 
followers, who had been kept back by Bruce to look like a tremendous 
reserve, and who might be called the heavy scarecrows of the Scotch 
army. The plan succeeded admirably, for although the English did 
not receive a single blow, they were completely panic-struck, which 
had the same effect as the severest beating. They fled in all direc- 
tions, with the Scotch in hot pursuit ; and it is said that Edward 
himself had to run for it as far as Dunbar, a distance of sixty miles, 
with the enemy after him. 

According to the Scotch historians, the results of this victory were 
truly marvellous, for the number of prisoners alleged to have been 
taken is actually greater than the number of the combatants. The 
chariots and waggons, it is also said, would have extended for many 
leagues, if drawn up into a line; but this is merely one of those 
lengths which are too frequently gone to by the old chroniclers. 
Though it is impossible that the Scotch could have killed fifty 
thousand, and made double the number of prisoners out of one 
hundred thousand men (unless they manufactured fifty thousand 
additional foes as readily as Vauxhall can put forth its fifty thousand 
additional lamps), it is, nevertheless, certain that on this occasion 
England experienced the severest defeat it had encountered since the 
establishment of the monarch v. Such was the effect created by the 



15G COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

battle of Bannockburn, that for some time after three Scotchmen 
were considered equivalent to a hundred Englishmen. There is 
every reason to believe that the Scotch were exceedingly vigorous in 
coming to the scratch at that early period. 

Encouraged by the success of his brother Robert in Scotland, 
Edward Bruce thought that the crown of Ireland was a little matter 
that would just suit him, and he accordingly passed over to the Green 
Isle, in the hope of finding it green enough to accept him as its 
sovereign. He was, for a time, successful in his project, and was 
actually crowned at Carrickfergus on the 2nd of May, 1316. But 
after knocking about the country, and being knocked about in the 
country, for a year and a half, he got a decisive blow from the 
English on the 5th of October, 1318, at Fagher, near Dundalk. 
Though he had landed in Ireland with only five hundred Scotchmen, 
he was left dead in the field with two thousand of his fellow- 
countrymen. He had been joined, no doubt, by several after his first 
arrival, but if he had not, it would have been all the same to the 
chroniclers, who would not have scrupled to kill the same individuals 
four times over to make a total sufficiently imposing for historical 
purposes. The historians would have been invaluable to a minister 
of finance, for they could always create an enormous surplus out of 
a vast deficiency. 

The Scotch continued their successes until a truce was agreed 
upon for two years, and thus Edward had leisure to look after 
domestic affairs, which had been fearfully neglected. Since the 
death of Gaveston, the royal favourite, there had been just room for 
one in the not very capacious heart of the English sovereign. A 
certain Hugh Spencer had been introduced to the court by the 
barons, as a sort of page, to act as a spy upon the king, and it is a 
curious fact, that the spencer, or jacket, has been the characteristic 
of the page from that time to the present. Hugh Spencer had a 
shrewd father, who advised his son to care no more for the barons, 
who had got him his place, but to work it to his own advantage, and 
make the most of the perquisites. 

Young Hugh, taking the parental hint, determined on booking 
himself for the inside place in Edward's heart, which has been already 
alluded to as vacant. Not only did he succeed in his design, but 
contrived to take up his old father, and carry him along as a sort of 
outside passenger. Biches and promotion were showered on the 
Spencers, who adopted a coat of arms, and made themselves Des- 
pencers, by prefixing the syllabic dc, which can impart a particle of 
aristocracy to the most plebeian of patronymics. The Despencers 
had obtained such influence over the king that he allowed them to 
do as they pleased ; and as they took all the good things to them- 
selves, the nobles — who were getting nothing- — began to evince 
considerable anxiety for the public interest. 

The Earl of Lancaster, a prince of the blood, felt his order 
insulted by the promotion of the two plebeians, and he one day ener- 
getically exclaimed, " that Spencers could not have anything in tail, 
though the king might try to fasten it on to them." Lancaster marched 



CIIAF. III.] PROMOTION OF THE DESPENCERS. 157 

upon London, and pitched his tent in Holborn, among the hills that 
abound in that locality. He gave out jocularly, that " he had como 
to baste a couple of Spencers, by trimming their jackets," but he was 
saved the trouble by a Parliament, which met armed at Westminster, 
and passed on the two Despencers a sentence of banishment. 

They were accordingly exiled in August, but came back in October, 
presenting an instance of a quick return without the smallest profit. 
Lancaster retired to the north, and was met at Boroughbridge by 
Sir Simon Ward and Sir Andrew Harclay, a couple of stout English 
knights, who stopped up the passage. Lancaster endeavoured 
to swim across the river, but the tide had turned against him, and 
he was taken prisoner. The unfortunate carl having been tried, 
was condemned to an ignominious death, and the mob were allowed 
to pelt him with mud on his way to execution, — a privilege of which 
a generous public took the fullest advantage. 

Edward had now to encounter opposition from a new quarter, or 
rather from two quarters, for his better half, Isabella, the sister of 
Charles lo Bel, was now plotting against him. She left him under 
the pretence of going to settle some business for him in France, and 
then refused to return to him. Some ambassadors volunteered to 
bring her back, but the ambassadors never came back themselves, for 
they had been in league with the queen, and only wanted an oppor- 
tunity of joining her. 

Their conduct brings to mind the anecdote of a scene that once 
passed in the shop of a shoemaker. A stranger had tried on a pair 
of shoes, and another stranger had been trying on a pair of boots at 
the same moment. Suddenly the shoes decamped without payment, 
when the boots standing upon their professed swiftness, offered to go 
in pursuit of the unprincipled shoes ; and as neither shoes nor boots 
were ever seen again by the tradesman, it is probable that the " false 
fleeting perjured Clarences " are still being pursued by the immortal 
Wellingtons. Thus the Earl of Kent, the king's own brother, the 
Earl of Bichmond, his cousin, and others, who had undertaken to go 
after the queen to bring her back, remained with .her, until she 
returned as an enemy to her own husband. Edward was now com- 
pelled to run away in his turn from his angry wife ; and rather than 
encounter the fury of a domestic storm, he got into a ship with 
young Despencer, to brave the elements. Old Despencer was taken 
and hanged, without the ceremony of a trial. 

The Prince of Wales was appointed guardian of the kingdom on 
account of the absence of his father, who had been regularly adver- 
tised, but had declined to come forward lest he should hear of 
something to his disadvantage. Having been tossed about upon the 
waves for several days, he came ashore on the coast of Wales, and 
hid himself for some weeks, with young Despencer and another, in 
the mountains of Glamorganshire. His two companions were one 
day startled by a cry of "We've got you!" and were instantly 
seized, upon which, Edward exclaiming, "It's no use: you've got 
the two birds in the hand, and may as well have the one in the 
bush," rolled out of a hedge and gave himself up to his pursuers. 



158 COMIC niSTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

Young Despcncer was taken to Hereford, and hanged at once, 
upon a gallows fifty feet high ; but why severity was carried to such 
a height is a question we have no means of answering, It has 
been brutally said by an annotator that the culprit had been accus- 
tomed to the high ropes during his life, and it was therefore 
determined that they should, accompany him even to the gibbet. 

The king was sent in custody to Kenilworth Castle, and Par- 
liament met on the 7th of January, 1327, to consider what should be 
done with him. His deposition was a preliminary step; for it waa 
the custom in those days to punish first and try the culprit after- 
wards. It was determined to place his son upon the throne in his 
stead, and on the 20th of January, 1327, a deputation went to 
Kenilworth to receive his abdication, if he liked to give it, or take it 
by force if he should prove refractory. The king, seeing Sir William 
Trussel, the Speaker, at the bead of his enemies, observed calmly, 
but sadly, " Alas ! the Trussel I depended upon for support has 
joined in dropping me." He renounced the regal dignity, and on tho 
24th of January, Edward the Third was proclaimed king, and 
crowned on the 29th at Westminster. 

This proceeding is on many accounts remarkable, and of the utmost 
value, as settling a point of constitutional practice, which had never 
before been recognised. It established a precedent for dissolving under 
extraordinary circumstances the compact between the king and the 
people. It negatived the alleged " right divine of kings to govern 
wrong," and proved that it was not always necessary to take violent 
means for ridding a country of a tyrant. It showed that the crown 
might be removed from the bead without taking off the head and all, 
which had been hitherto the recognised mode of effecting a transfer 
o f the royal diadem. 

The unhappy Edward was kept for a time at Kenilworth; but 
ultimately by command of Lord Mortimer, who had entire influence 
over the queen, the deposed king was removed to Berkeley Castle. 
Here it is believed he was most cruelly murdered, though it was given 
out by his keepers that his death was perfectly natural. He died on 
the 21st of September, 1327, in the forty-third year of his age, and 
the nineteenth of his reign. No inquiry took place, and although no 
coroner's inquest was held, " Wilful Murder against some person or 
persons unknown " is the almost unanimous verdict of posterity. 

The character of this king has been said to have been chiefly dis- 
figured by feebleness of judgment, which prevented him from knowing 
what was good for him. He managed, nevertheless, to find out what 
was bad for his subjects, and he was never at a loss to secure the means 
of enjoyment for himself and his favourites, at the expense of his people. 
in the reign of Edward the Second the order of Knights Templars 
was abolished, a circumstance which arose from the king of France 
beiiig short of cash, and casting a longing eye upon the rich possessions 
of the order. In France they were put to the torture to force them 
into confessions of crimes they had never committed ; but in England 
the same effect was produced by imprisonment ; for instruments of 
cruelty vvero never recognised by English laws, or encouraged a§ 



CHAP. III.] 



A TREMENDOUS EARTHQUAKE. 



159 



articles of British manufacture. The Archbishop of York finding 
nothing of the kind in the country, wished to send abroad for a 
pattern,* but it must be spoken to the credit of our ancestors, that 
though, in a pecuniary sense, they were famous for applying the 
screw, the thumb-screw was never popular. 

Eapin mentions among the great events of this reign, a tremendous 
earthquake, but it can have been no great shakes, for we do not find 




Edward the Second resigning his Crown. 

any details of its destructive effects in the old chronicles. It occurred 
on the 14th of November, 1320, to the unspeakable terror of all classes ; 
but it did not swallow up half as much as is swallowed up annually 
on the 9th of November at the Mansion House in London. 



CHAPTEE THE FOUETH. 

EDWARD THE THIRD. 



The young king did not upon his father's death come to the throne, 
for he had taken his seat upon the imperial cushion eight months 
before the decease of his by no means lamented parent. Mortimer 
had caused a medal to be struck in celebration of the accession of 
Edward the Third, in which he was represented receiving the crown, 
with the motto, " Nou rapit seel recypit" which wc need scarcely 

* Herningford. 



160 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

translate into " Ho did not snatch it, but got it honestly. "* A. council 
of regency was appointed, to which Mortimer, with affected modesty, 
declined to belong, but he and the queen did as they pleased with 
the affairs of government. Her majesty got an enormous grant to 
pay her debts, but knowing the extravagant and dishonest character 
of the woman, we have reason to believe that she pocketed the money 
and never satisfied the demands of her creditors. She obtained, also, 
an allowance of twenty thousand a year, which was better than two- 
thirds of the revenues of the crown ; so that a paltry six-and-eightpence 
in the pound was the utmost that young Edward could have to live 
upon. The Earl of Lancaster was appointed guardian, and began 
doing the best for himself, after the approved fashion of the period. 
The attainders against the great Earl of Lancaster were of course 
reversed, and the confiscation of the estates of the Despencer, afforded 
some very pretty pickings to the party that was now dominant. 

Though the king was too young to govern, his admirers persuaded 
him that he was quite old enough to fight, and he was recommended 
to try his hand against Bruce, who was getting old ; so that, in the 
language of the ring, the British pet was not very ill matched against 
the Scottish veteran. The Caledonian Slasher, as Bruce might justly 
have been called, had broken the truce agreed upon with Edward the 
Second, and had sent an army into Yorkshire, which plundered as it went 
every town and village. The stealing of sheep and oxen w 7 as carried 
on to such an extent by the Scotch troops that their camp resembled 
Smithfield market, or a prize cattle show. Sixty thousand men 
gathered round the standard of Edward, but the foreign and native 
troops quarrelled with such fury among themselves that they had 
little energy left to be expended on the enemy. Fortunately for the 
English king the vastness of his army made up for its want of 
discipline. Bruce, directly he saw the foe, waited only to take their 
number, and retired with the utmost rapidity, amusi'ng himself with 
the Scotch favourite Burns, by setting fire to all the villages. 

The English, instead of following the enemy, waited a night upon 
the road for some provisions expected by the Parcels Delivery, which 
had been delayed by some accident. The Scotch were thus allowed 
to get ahead, and Edward sent a crier through his camp, offering a 
hundred a year with the honour of knighthood, to anyone who would 
apprise him of the place where he should find the opposing army. 
Thomas of Bokeby, so called from his habit of rokeing about, was 
successful in the search, and came galloping into the English camp 
with a loud cry of Eureka, and a demand of "money down," witli 
knighthood on the spot, before he divulged his secret. " You're very 
particular, sir," said Edward, Hinging him a purse, containing his 
annuity for the first year, and dubbing him a knight by a blow on the 
head from the fiat of the sword, administered with unusual vehemence. 
Thomas of Bokeby having pocketed the money, and secured the 
dignity, pointed to a hill three leagues off, observing, "There they 

* It is a curious fact that Mortimer should have been in the modal line, a business :u 
which hii uaincsake of the house ox Storr and Mortimer has since become so illustrious. 



CHAP. I V.J 



WAR WITH SCOTLAND. 



1G1 



are ! " an observation which caused a general exclamation of " Well, 
it's very funny ! To think that they should have been so near us all 
the while and we not aware of it ! " The English having made for 
the spot, sent a challenge, inviting the Scotch to meet them in a fair 
open field, but the proposition was declined, with thanks and com- 
pliments. The English, on the return of the herald, went to sleep, 
for the presence of the herald always had a soporiferous influence. 
Edward was exceedingly severe upon the occasion, and commented 
upon the herald's news, which the king declared was always most 
unsatisfactory. For three days and three nights, the English lay by 
the side of the river, having been thrown by the herald into a state of 
dreamy inactivity. At length, on the fourth day, they woke from their 




Thomas of Eokeby receiving the honour of Knighthood. 

transient trance, when they found that the Scotch had once more 
changed their position. Edward moved higher up, keeping opposito 
to the foe, and the two armies lay facing each other for eighteen days 
and nights, like two great cowardly boys, both afraid of " coming on," 
but each assuming a menacing attitude. There is every reason to 
believe that the herald had mesmerised the whole of the English 
troops, for they allowed the Scotch to go away in the dead of the 
night for want of proper vigilance. The probability, however, is that 
both armies were illustrating the proverb, that " none are so blind as 



1G2 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOK III. 

those who won't see," and that their aversion to "come on," was 
mutual. 

A truce was concluded, and Edward, according to Froissart, 
returned "right pensive" to London; but his "right pensiveness " 
may have been accounted for by the fact that he was on the eve of 
marriage. His mother had, during her visit to the Continent, arranged 
to wed him to Philippa of Hainault, a lady who, to judge from her 
portrait on her tomb in Westminster Abbey, was one of those monsters 
commonly called a " fine woman." This fineness in the female form 
consists of excessive coarseness, which is better adapted to the laundry 
than the domestic circle. She, however, made Edward an excellent 
better half — or perhaps a better two-thirds is a more suitable term 
to indicate the relative proportions of the royal couple. She whs 
brought to London by her uncle John, surnamed of Hainault, and, it 
being Christmas-time, she was taken out to enjoy all the amusements 
of the festive season. Jousts and tournaments, balls and dinner- 
parties, were given in her honour during her stay in town ; and on 
the 24th of January, 1328, the nuptial ceremony was performed with 
great solemnity. 

Edward being now married, was desirous of avoiding that roving 
life which the constant pursuit of Bruce had rendered necessary. 
The English king thought it better to settle down into the domestic 
habits of a family man, which was impossible as long as he was 
compelled to be out all night, watching the foe and bivouacking with 
his soldiers. Bruce, who had grown old and gouty, was also eager 
for peace, which was concluded on the condition of his little boy, 
David, aged five, being married to Edward's little sister Joanna, aged 
seven. The English king gave up all claim to the sovereignty of 
Scotland, causing even the insignia of Scotch royalty to be carefully 
packed and forwarded to Bruce, who, on opening the parcel, was 
delighted to find himself in possession of the crown and sceptre of 
his predecessors. He did not, however, get quite the best of the 
bargain, for he undertook to pay thirty thousand marks into Edward's 
court as compensation, in the form of liquidated damages, for the 
mischief that the Scotch invaders had committed, l^ruce had 
obtained a sort of letter of licence, allowing him to take three years 
for the payment of the sum agreed upon. A more formidable creditor, 
however, took him in execution, for he was called upon to pay the 
debt of nature within the ensuing twelvemonth. Mortimer, who had 
advised the peace with Scotland, which was by no means popular, got 
himself created Earl of March, for it is the policy of cx*afty politicians 
to obtain rewards for their most objectionable measures. 

It will be remembered that the Earl of Lancaster had been 
appointed guardian of the young king, but no scapegrace in a comedy 
ever made such an undutiful ward as the youthful Edward. He 
remained with his mother and Mortimer, the latter of whom was 
particularly distasteful to Lancaster, who endeavoured to get up a 
party to oppose the favourite. This association was joined by the 
Earls of Kent and Norfolk, two of the king's uncles, as well as by 
some other gentlemen, who set forth in an advertisement the reason 



CHAP. IV.] ASSOCIATION OP THE BARONS AGAINST MORTIMER. 163 



j 



of their having combined. The statement of grievances was drawn 
up with the usual tact of red-hot patriots who always put down a 
few impossibilities in the list of things to be achieved, for the imprac- 
ticability of their objects prevents their trade from being suddenly 
brought to a dead stand-still. There were eight articles in the 
Lancastrian manifesto, which chiefly aimed at Mortimer and the 
queen, who soon persuaded Edward that the real object of the 
advertisers was to deprive him of his crown. " I thought you were 
the parties pointed at," said the young king to his mother and her 
paramour; but the latter merely observing, " My dear fellow, they 
mean you, as sure as my name's Mortimer," soon taught Edward to 
believe that he was the object of the hostility of the rebellious nobles. 
Preparations were being made to chastise them, when Kent and 
Norfolk abandoned Lancaster, who justly complained of having been 
trifled with. The humiliated and humbugged Lancaster was glad to 
accept a pardon, and pay down a considerable sum towards the 
expenses which had been incurred in preparing for his own discom- 
fiture. Mortimer did not forgive the parties who had contemplated 
his overthrow, but formed a determination to get hold of them when 
a good opportunity offered. 

Kent, the king's uncle, who was rather a feeble-minded person, 
became the victim of " a mockery, a delusion, and a snare." He 
received a number of anonymous letters, informing him that his 
brother, the late king, was alive in Corfe Castle. "Pooh, pooh," 
said Kent to himself, as he perused the, first three or four epistles; 
" I'm not quite such a fool as to be taken in upon that point. I'm 
not going to believe my brother is alive, when I happen to have been 
present as chief mourner at his funeral." Every post, however, 
brought such a pile of correspondence upon the subject that he first 
began to believe that half of what he was told might possibly be true ; 
and when credulity admits one half of a story, the other half soon 
forces an entrance. Kent's anonymous correspondents, not content 
with declaring the late king to be alive, gave the circumstantiality to 
their statement which is generally resorted to in the absence of truth, 
and indicated Corfe Castle as the place where the second Edward 
was " hanging out " at that very moment. The credulous Kent, being 
in doubt as to the fate of his brother, wrote at once to ask him 
whether he was really dead or alive, saying to himself, as be put the 
epistle into the post, "There! I've written to him now, and so wo 
shall soon settle that question one way or the other." 

The party being deceased, the letter came back to the dead-letter 
office, and fell into the clutches of Mortimer. Everything was done 
to humour the delusion of poor Kent, who, having been told that his 
brother was confined in Corfe Castle, sent a confidential messenger to 
make inquiries in the neighbourhood. It is even said that a sort of 
optical illusion, a jack-o'-lantern, or phantasmagoria, or dissolving- 
view, had been rssorted to, for the purpose of showing a representa- 
tion of Edward the Second sitting in Corfe Castle at his luncheon,* 

• Bapin, torn, iii., p. 152, 

M — 2 



161 C0M1U HISTOIiY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

with a waiter or two in attendance, as a mark of respect to the 
unhappy sovereign. 

The messenger returned with the news to Edmund, who determined 
to use his own eyes, hy going to Corfe Castle and judging for himself. 
When he arrived and saw the governor, that wily official pretended 
to be much surprised at the secret having been divulged. He did not 
deny that Edward was at the castle, but merely remarked that the 
captive could not be seen. " At all events, you can give him this 
letter," said Edmund, putting into the governor's hands a douceur and 
a communication directed to the deceased monarch, offering to aid 
him in his escape from captivity. 

The governor took the billet to the queen, and Edmund was arrested 
on a charge of endeavouring to raise a deceased individual to the 
throne. Poor Kent was put upon his trial, and his own letter having 
been produced, with witnesses to prove his handwriting, the case 
against him w r as complete. The whole proceeding was disposed of 
with the rapidity of an undefended cause ; speedy execution was 
asked for and granted, but the headsman was nowhere to be found, 
though persons were sent to look for him all over Winchester. A 
delay of four hours was occasioned, and the generous British public 
began to expect that they should lose the spectacle they had 
assembled to witness, when a convicted felon came forward in the 
handsomest manner, at a moment's notice, to prevent disappoint- 
ment, by undertaking the part of headsman. Thus, at the early age 
of twenty-eight, perished Prince Edmund, on the charge of having 
sought to put a sceptre in the hands of a spectre, and raise a phantom 
to the throne. He left two sons and two daughters, one of whom 
was a beauty whom we will not attempt to paint, for our inkstand is 
not a rouge-pot, and if it were we should be sorry to apply its contents 
to so fair a countenance. She married eventually the eldest son of 
Edw r ard the Third, who became so celebrated as the Black Prince, 
and who was born at about the period (1330) to which our history 
has arrived. The king finding himself a father, determined to be no 
longer a child in the hands of a tyrannical mother, and he longed for 
some assistance from his subjects, to enable him to throw off the 
maternal yoke as soon as possible. 

Edward at last opened his mind — a very small recess — to Lord 
Montacute. A Parliament was being held at Nottingham, where 
Mortimer and the queen had lodgings in the castle, while the bishops 
and barons took apartments in the town and suburbs. How to get 
hold of Mortimer was the great difficulty, for Queen Isabella had the 
keys of the castle brought up to her every evening, and placed at her 
bedside.* Her majesty had gone round as usual to see everything 
safe, and all the candles out ; but of course, like other sagacious 
people, who examine minutely the fastenings of the doors, she never 
gave a thought to the cellars. Through one of these the governor 
(who, like all the great officers of that period — the founders of our 
illustrious families — was a sneaking knave, ready tc do anything for 

» HemiDg, Knj-glit, Hulioshed, 



Chap, iv.j edward's Assertion of iiis rioiits. 1G5 

money) admitted Montacute and his followers. They crawled along 
a dark passage, at the end of which they were met by Edward, who 
conducted them up a staircase into a room adjoining his mother's 
chamber. The queen had gone to bed, but Mortimer, the Bishop of 
Lincoln, and one or two others, were sitting — probably over their grog — 
in an apartment close at hand. Their language had all the earnest- 
ness that might be expected from the time of night, and the manner 
in which they were occupied. They were, in fact, all talking at once, 
when Montacute and party rushed in, knocking down two knights* 
who sat near the door, and seized Mortimer, in spite of the entreaties 
of Isabella, who ran screaming out of bed on hearing the noise and 
confusion. 

The favourite was dragged off to the nearest station-house, and 
Edward issued a proclamation the next morning, announcing his 
intention to try his own hand at government forthwith. A Parlia- 
ment met at Westminster on the 26th of November, 1330, by which 
Mortimer was tried and condemned, though a short time before he 
enjoyed the command of a large majority. The favourite had, 
however, fallen into disgrace, and the old proverb, " Give a dog a had 
name and hang him," was literally realised. 

After the death of Mortimer, Queen Isabella was shut up in a 
place called the Castle of Risings, on a pension of three thousand a 
year, according to one historian, four thousand according to others, 
while Eapin unceremoniously cuts her down to the paltry pittance of 
five hundred per annum. It is probable that the last named sum is 
the nearest the mark, for all agree in saying that " she lived a miser- 
able monument of blighted ambition," and it is obvious that a 
miserable monument would not require an outlay of three or four 
thousand a year to keep it in condition during an existence of rather 
better than a quarter of a century. 

Though Edward had agreed to a truce with the Scotch, he did not 
scruple to take a favourable opportunity of breaking it. Though his 
sister was married to little Master David Bruce, the nominal king, 
Edward did not hesitate to turn that young gentleman off the throne, 
to make way for his creature, Edward Baliol. Young David was 
sent to France, while Baliol kept up a kind of semblance of royalty, 
but his rebellious subjects took every opportunity, when the backs of 
the English were turned, to fall upon and baste the bewildered Baliol. 
Edward was soon compelled to leave his vassal to get on as he could, 
for the entire throne of France appeared to be open to the ambition 
of the English sovereign. The French crown seemed to be " open to 
all parties and influenced by none," when Edward of England and 
Philip of Valois became candidates for the vacancy. The former claimed 
as grandson of Philip the Fourth, the latter as grandson of Philip the 
Third, and each party endeavoured to complicate the matter as much 
as he could by producing a number of perplexing and unintelligible 
pedigrees. Philip claimed through his grandfather, who was thought 
to be a sure card for the French king to depend upon ; but Edward 

• Knygbt. Hcning, Rymer. 



LGG 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK III. 



tried to play something stronger, in the shape of what lie affectionately 
called that " fine old trump his mother." She, however, was objected 
to as a female, and the question was, to save further trouble, referred 
to the arbitration of the peers and judges of France, and was decided in 
favour of Edward's opponent. The English king declared the French 
judges were no judges at all, and refused to be bound by the award ; 
for it was the royal practice of those days to abide by an agreement 
only so long as might be convenient. 

Edward having appointed the Earl of Brabant his agent, cooll\ 
demanded, through that individual, the French crown. The English 
seconded their sovereign in his preposterous request, and he took 
advantage of their acquiescence to squeeze out of them all he could 
in the shape of subsidies, tallages, and forced loans. He raised 
money by the most disgraceful means, and even pawned the crown 
with the Archbishop of Treves, who after trying the purity of the 
gold with the usual test, unpicking the velvet cap, to examine the 




Edward pawning the Crown with the Archbishop of Treves. 



setting of the jewels, and submitting it to as many indignities as a 
hat in the hands of an old clothesman, consented to lend about one 
tenth of its value on the degraded diadem. 

The conversation between the parties, though it has not be n 



CHAP. IV. I EDWARD LANDS AT ANTWERP. 1G7 

J 

authentically handed down hy the chroniclers, may be very easily 
imagined. It is probable that Edward, forgetting the dignity of the 
king in the meanness of the borrower, may have familiarly asked the 
Archbishop to " make it a trifle more " than the sum at first offered. 
It may be presumed that the greedy ecclesiastic would have objected 
that the crown had been very ill-used ; that it got badly treated in 
the time of John, and that even Edward himself had had a good 
deal of hard wear out of it, which had rubbed off very much of its 
pristine brilliancy. But it was not to the comparatively honest 
expedient of pawning his own property that the king had recourse, 
for replenishing his exhausted treasury. When he had got all he 
could by pledging his own honours, and deposited the sceptre and 
single ball at the sign of the three, he began the old royal trick of 
plundering his people. 

From the inhabitants of Cornwall Edward took nearly all their tin, 
and every part of England allowed itself to be fleeced for the purpose 
of affording one man the means of attempting to gratify his ambition 
at the expense of an entire people. The money thus obtained was 
devoted to the payment of foreign mercenaries, so that he robbed his 
own subjects for the double purpose of corruption and usurpation. 
To enable him to oppress the French, he bribed the Germans with 
money obtained by plundering the English. 

He sailed on the 15th of July, 1338, with an army rather more 
select than numerous, and landed at Antwerp, where he had secured 
himself a friendly reception by sending emissaries before him to 
marshal the peasantry into enthusiastic groups, and " get up " the 
spectacle without regard to outlay. The burghers were called to 
numerous rehearsals before the appointed day, and on the arrival of 
the English king they were tolerably perfect in the parts assignee! 
to them. 

Edward engaged a few foreign potentates— principally small 
Germans — to aid him in his audacious enterprise. Louis of 
Bavaria, Emperor of Germany, came to terms ; the Dukes of Brabant 
and Gueldres did not refuse his money ; the Archbishop of Cologne 
consented to add a few pounds to his salary ; while the Marquis of 
Juliers, and the Counts of Hainault and Namur, jumped at a 
moderate stipend for their services. Every adventurer who was to 
be had cheap, found instant employment, and James von Artaveldt, 
a brewer of Ghent, the Barclay or Perkins of his time, made an 
arrangement for farming out a few of his stoutest draymen. Philip 
availed himself of a couple of kings in reduced circumstances — those 
of Navarre and Bohemia — besides securing a few dukes who were in 
want of a little cash for current expenses. A rope of sand could 
scarcely have been more fragile than Edward's band of hired fol- 
lowers. Like a Christmas-pudding made of plums and other rich 
ingredients without any flour to bind it, his supporters, though com- 
prising a compound of dukes, marquises and counts, with even an 
archbishop and an emperor, was not likely to hold together as long 
^as it was deficient in the fiowei: of an army, a zealous soldiery. 
The Flemings and Brabanters having spent his money sneaked 



LG8 COMIC HISTORY OP ENOLAND. [ROOK III 

oft" with a promise tc meet him next year", and 1338 was conse- 
quently lost in doing nothing. By the middle of September, 
1339, there was another muster of the mercenaries, with whom 
Edward started for Cambray, but happening to look back when 
he got to the frontiers of France, he saw tbe Counts of Namur 
and Hainault disgracefully backing out of the expedition. Having 
in vain hallooed to them, and finding that the more he kept on 
calling the more they persisted in not coming, he pushed 
on as far as St. Quentin, when the rest of his allies struck, and 
declared they would not go another step without an advance of 
wages. Edward, who had spent all his own money and a good deal 
of somebody else's — for he was fearfully in debt — could only say 
" Very well, gentlemen, I'm in your hands," and turn into the town 
of Ghent, where he took lodgings for a limited period. While here 
he amused himself by taking the title of King of France, and he had 
the French lily quartered on his arms ; which, as Philip said when 
he heard of it, was " like the fellow's impudence." 

Edward had previously endeavoured to draw his adversary into a 
battle, but the latter shirked the contest under various pretexts. 
Some say that he was ready for a terrific combat and was "just 
going to begin" when he received a letter predicting ill luck, from 
the king of Naples, who was looked upon as a sort of Wizard of the 
South, or royal conjuror. No fight took place, and Edward ran 
across to England in the middle of February, 1340, to make a call 
upon the pockets of his people. The Parliament foolishly throwing 
good money after bad, granted immense supplies, for which the king 
thanked them in the fulness of his heart, for the fulness of his pocket. 
Returning to Flanders, he met the enemy at the harbour of Sluys, on 
the 24th of June, 1340, when a battle ensued, in which Edward 
astonished his own followers by his most successful debut in a naval 
character. He gave orders to the sailors as freely as if he had been 
playing in nautical dramas and dancing naval hornpipes from the 
days of his infancy. So complete was the victory of the English that 
nobody dared inform the French king of the extent of his calamity, 
until the court jester was fool enough to put the news in the shape 
of a conundrum to Philip. The latter was enjoying his glass of wine 
and his nut, when the buffoon in waiting declared that he had a nut 
to crack which w r ould prove somewhat too hard for his royal master. 
" Were it a pistaccio or a Brazil," cried the king, " I would come at 
the kernel of it." When, however, the riddle was put* and the 
sovereign had guessed it, the unhappy fool found it no joke, for he 
was sorely punished for his ill-judged pleasantry. 

Edward's success brought round him troops of friends, and finding 
himself strong, he wrote a letter addressed to Philip of Valois, 

* Rapin, vol. iii., p. 178. We have used every possible exertion to obtain a 
copy of this celebrated riddle, but without having succeeded. The nearest approach 
we have made to it is an old conundrum in the ily leaf of the Statutes at Large, 
which is nearly as follows: — "What was the greatest fillip to the success of 
Edward ? " There is no answer added, but there can be little doubt that some allu- 
bion to l'hilip's loss giving a fillip to Edward is intended, 



CHAP. IV.] 



EDWARD'S ARRIVAL At THE TOWER. 



1G9 



offering to tackle him singly in a regular stand-up fight man to man, 
to pit a hundred soldiers against a hundred on the other side, or to 
pitch into each other's armies by a pitched battle, embracing the 
entire strength of their respective companies. The French king, who 
was not disposed to give battle, which he thought might end in his 
taking a thrashing, evaded the matter, by saying that he had seen a 
letter addressed to Philip of Valois, but as it could not be meant for 
him, he should certainly decline sending an answer. This shabby 
subterfuge succeeded in baffling the English king, who consented to 
a truce and returned to his own country. 

Edward arrived in London late one night in November, without a 
penny in his pocket. He went at once to the Tower, where every- 




Eclward's arrival at the Tower. 

body had gone to bed, for he was not expected, and where there 
were signs of culpable negligence. There was no fire in his room, 
and nothing to eat ; which put him into such an ill-humour, that he 
had three of the judges called up to be thrown into prison, he turned 
out the Chancellor, the Treasurer, and the Master of the Kolls, 
besides committing to gaol a number of subordinate officers. Thoso 
who had been employed in collecting the revenue, were the especial 
objects of his rage, for hs expected to have received a large sum, and 



170 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK III. 



was irritated beyond measure at the contemptible amount of avail- 
able assets. Stratford, the Archbishop of Canterbury, on hearing 
of the king's arrival at the Tower — in what has perhaps been since 
called a "towering passion," from the historical fact — observed 
to his informant, "Oh! indeed. "Well, I shall be off out of his 
way," and fled to his official residence. The king sent him a 
summons, which he refused to attend, and threatened with excom- 
munication any rascally officer who might attempt to execute the 
process. Want of money soon softened Edward's heart, and Parlia- 
ment refused a grant until there had been another confirmation 
of Magna Charta, which served the double purpose of a blister to draw 
the people's cash and a plaster to heal their wounded liberties. 

In the year 1341, little David of Scotland came over with a little 
money and a few troops lent to him by the king of France, and with 
this assistance the Bruce made a tolerably decent appearance in his 
own country. Edward having projects of wholesale robbery abroad, 
gave up Scotland as a piece of retail plunder, that was wholly beneath 
his attention, and concluded a truce with David, who compromised 
with Baliol, by appointing him to keep watch and ward against the 
Scottish borderers. A situation in the police seems to have been a 







Fancy Portrait of Inspector Baliol. 



sorry compensation for one who had aspired to a throne, but it is 
probable that the pride of Baliol was in some degree consulted by 
nominating him A 1 in his new capacity. 



CHAP. IV.] THE SIEGE OF HENNEP.ON. 171 

One would have thought that Edward had had enough of Con- 
tinental warfare, and that "look at home" would have been his mottc 
for the remainder of his reign, but he was soon induced to join in a 
squabble that had arisen about the crown of Brittany. John the 
Third, the late duke, had lately died, leaving one brother and a niece 
named Jane, who having the misfortune to be lame, had got brutally 
nicknamed La Boitease, in accordance with the coarse and unfeeling 
practice of that chivalrous period. The contest for the duchy was 
between this young lady, who had married Charles de Blois, the 
French king's nephew, and her uncle John de Montfort, who pro- 
fessed to have a superior claim, and who savagely pooh-poohed her 
pretensions by allusions to her infirmity. "Hers is indeed a lame 
case," he would fiendishly exclaim. " Why, by my troth, she hasn't 
got a leg to stand upon." This argument was the old rule of 
grammar, that the masculine is worthier than the feminine ; but this 
arrangement La Boiteuse determined to kick against. Charles de 
Blois, her husband, did homage to his uncle Phil for the duchy — 
Brittany being a fief of France — while John de Montfort propitiated 
Edward by doing homage to him as the lawful sovereign. Philip 
and Edward thus became bottleholders to the two competitors ; but 
through the tardiness of the English king in supporting his man, De 
Montfort was taken prisoner. This gentleman had the advantage — 
or the disadvantage as the case may be — -of being married to a high- 
spirited woman. It is fortunate for a man wedded to a vixen wife, 
when the affectionate virago, instead of making a victim of him, vents 
her fury upon his enemies. 

Mrs. de Montfort had, according to Froissart, " the courage of a 
man and the heart of a lion." In addition to these fascinating 
qualities she had the tongue of a true woman. She went about with 
her child in her arms, holding forth in a double sense, for she held 
forth her infant, and was continually holding forth on the subject of 
her husband's wrongs to the populace. A pretty woman, who takes 
to public speaking, is always sure of an approving audience ; but 
when she began to give recitations in character, by putting a steel 
casque on her head and a sword in her hand, the effect was truly 
marvellous. She took a provincial tour, with the never-failing motto 
of "Female in Distress" as her watchword ; and a host of young 
men engaged themselves as assistants under her banner. She threw 
herself into a place called Hennebon, where she was besieged by the 
French, but she ran up and down the ramparts with all the agility 
of a young tigress. She stood firmly among a shower of arrows, and 
though danger darted across her every now and then — so much that 
her casque got a rapid succession of taps — she merely observed that 
she had never been afraid of a living beau and would certainly not 
shrink from a bow without vitality. Aid was expected from the 
English, but as it did not arrive the Bishop of Leon began to croak 
most horribly, and proposed to capitulate. The bishop had been 
to the larder, and finding provisions running exceedingly low, declared 
there was nothing left for them but to eat humble pie as speedily 
as possible. He had succeeded in raising an fcneute d'estomac in the- 



m 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK til. 



garrison, when the countess, who had begged the troops to hold out 
a little longer, saw the English fleet from the window of her dressing- 
room. "Here they are!" cried she as she ran downstairs; and 
the whole of the inhabitants were soon watching the arrival of the 
boats with intense interest. Sir Walter Manny commanded the 
squadron, and after a good night's rest and a capital dinner the next 
day, which concluded amid a slight shower from the French battering- 
ram, he declared that he would not run the risk of having any more 
batter pudding from the same quarter. "That ram," he exclaimed, 
" must not again disturb me over my mutton ; " and he had no sooner 
dined than he went forth, followed by a few select soldiers, and broke 
the instrument to pieces. 

The French, having raised the siege of Hennebon, left Lady de 
Montfort leisure to go over to England for the purpose of getting a 
present of troops that Edward had promised her. She was returning 




Madame de Montfort astonishing the French Fleek 



CHAI\ IV.] JAMES VON AIITAVELDT. 173 

to Franco with her reinforcements when she fell in with a French 
fleet, and they fell out as a natural consequence. De Montfort's wife 
rushed on deck in a coat of mail over her petticoat of female, and 
fought with tremendous vigour. One of the foe tauntingly told her 
the needle was a fitter instrument for her than the sword, when she 
rushed upon him, exclaiming, " I want no needle, fellow, to trim vour 
jacket." She cut the thread of several existences, and there is no 
doubt that had the gun cotton been discovered in those days, she 
would have used it for the purpose of whipping, basting, hemming in, 
felling to the earth, and, in a word, sewing up her unfortunate 
antagonists. ' Darkness having set in upon this fearful set out, the 
battle was cut short, for night dropped her curtain in the middle of 
the act, and brought it to an abrupt conclusion. 

Edward now came over to superintend the war in person, and he 
began by looking the danger in the face, which he accomplished by 
lying several weeks opposite the foe — an example that was followed 
by the other side ; and thus the two armies continued to take sights 
at each other during the entire winter. At length a truce for three 
years and eight months was agreed upon ; but its conditions were not 
attended to. John de Montfort was to have been released from prison, 
according to the agreement ; but Philip, by pitiful quibbles, found 
excuses for keeping him in closer custody. At length, the old gentle- 
man escaped in the disguise of a pedlar ; but he was cruelly hounded 
by his enemies, and with a pack at his back was for some time hunted 
about, until, by dint of the most dogged perseverance, he arrived safely 
in England. Coming to the door of his own house, he set up a faint 
cry of " Stay-lace, boot-lace, shoe-tie," in a disguised voice, which 
brought the mistress of the establishment to the window ; but she 
merely shook her head, to indicate that nothing was wanted. Upon 
this the supposed pedlar threw off his hat and wig, and being instantly 
recognised, was dragged into the hall, to the surprise of the various 
servants, until the words, " It's your master come back," furnished a 
clue to the mystery. His wife's joy at meeting her "old man," as 
she affectionately called him, was extreme ; but the excitement was 
too much for the veteran, who went bang off, like an exhausted squib, 
while Lady de Montfort fell in an explosion of grief by the side of her 
husband. 

The fortune of war had been oscillating with the regularity of a 
pendulum between England and France, when the Earl of Derby 
threw himself into the scale with tremendous weight, and turned it 
completely in England's favour. In the emphatic language of the 
day, he was " down upon the French like a thunderbolt." Edward 
went off to Flanders to treat with the free cities for their allegiance, 
and, in fact, ascertain the price of those friends of Liberty. Louis the 
Count, though deprived of nearly all his revenue, kept up his independ- 
ence, and refused to pay allegiance or anything else to Edward. The 
English king tried to effect a transfer of the loyalty of the Flemings from 
Louis, the Count of Flanders, to his own son, Edward the Black Prince ; 
and with this view he obtained the support of his old friend James 
von Arta veldt, the brewer, whose stout gave him a great ascendency 



J 71 



CDMIC niSTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK III. 



over the actions of the people. He addressed to them a good deal 
of frothy declamation, and endeavoured to brew the storm of revo- 
lution ; but it ended in very small beer, amid which Artaveldt himself 
was eventually washed away through the impetuosity of the stream 
he had himself set in motion. A popular insurrection broke out, and 
the brewer behaved with great gallantry. He wore a casque on his 
head which pointed him out as a butt for the malice of his enemies. 
He was cruelly murdered, and Edward vowed vengeance when lie 
heard that the lifeless bier was all that remained of his friend the 
brewer. 

In 1346 the English king landed on the coast of Normandy, with an 
army containing not only the flower of his own troops, but a regular 
bouquet, in which the English rose was blended with the Welsh leek 
and a sprig of the Irish shillalah. He marched towards Paris, and his 
van had even entered the suburbs of that city ; but, without attacking 




Assassination of Artaveldt the Brewer. 



t\ie capital, he contented himself with a little arson in the small towns 
in the neighbourhood. His antagonist was not inactive, and succeeded 
in getting the English into a corner, from which escape seemed almost 
impossible. It was necessary to cross the Sommc ; but Philip and 
the river were rather too deep for Edward and his soldiers. Having 
waited till the tide went down, they took a desperate plunge, and the 
foe having also resolved on making a splash, the two armies met in 



CHAI\ IV.] 



THE BATTLE OF CRESSY. 



175 



the middle of the stream, where they fought with an ardour that was 
not damped hy the surrounding element. Edward and his troops 
found as much difficulty in reaching the Bank as if they had made the 
attempt in an omnibus during one of the blockades of Fleet Street. At 
length they succeeded, and after travelling for some distance, they 
put up in the neighbourhood of the village of Cressy. On the 26th 
of August, 1346, the English sovereign took an early supper, and went 
to bed, having given instructions for his boots to be brought to his 
door by dawn the following mor- 
ning. The whole army slept well, 
considering it was the first nkdit 
in a strange place ; and, having 
been called by that valuable valet, 
the lark, everyone was up and 
down by the hour of daybreak. 

Breakfast was scarcely con- 
cluded when Edward ordered the 
army to arms, and sent for the 
herald in the hopes of getting the 
news ; but from this quarter he 
learned nothing. At length he 
took up his post, and chose three 
leaders, a column being assigned 
to each of them. The first was 
under the command of his young 
son, Edward the Black Prince, a 
youth of fifteen, who held very 
high rank in the army, having 
been included in every brevet, 
notwithstanding the brevity of 
his service. Two experienced 
captains — the Earls of Warwick 
and Oxford — were employed 
under him to do the work, so that 
the boy prince had nothing to do but to reap the glory of his 
position. Eeaping laurels under such circumstances was a common 
practice in those days ; and the vulgar expression " with a hook " may 
have originated in allusion to the reaping of the harvest created by 
another's merit. It must, however, be stated in justice to the Black 
Prince, that he proved himself quite equal to the position in which 
fortune had placed him. If we examine his character, we shall find in 
it many good points, and it may fairly be said that the Black Prince 
was by no means so black as history has painted him. The three 
divisions took up their position on the hill, and the archers stood in 
front, forming a semicircle or bow, from which they could more 
effectually discharge their arrows. The Battle of Cressy is perhaps 
one of the most interesting in English history; and though part 
of it was fought in a tremendous shower of rain, which has caused 
some frivolous writer of the period to give it the name of Water 
Cressy, we are not induced by this idle and impotent play upon 




Edward the Third on the morning of the 
Battle of Cressy. 



17G COMIC IIISTORY OF ENGLAND. flJOOK III. 

words to lose our respect for one of the greatest exploits of our 
countrymen. 

Philip slept at Abbeville on the 25th of August, and rising in a 
terrible ill-humour, set out early in the morning to give battle. He 
started off in such a fit of sulkiness that he did not even give the 
word to " march," and breaking suddenly into a run, his impatience 
carried him far in advance of his army. By the time he came in 
sight of the foe, he was ever so much ahead of his own troops, and 
was obliged to sit down quietly until they had come nearly up to 
him. By some mismanagement, the troops at the back started off 
quicker than those in front, who began to hesitate still more as they 
approached the enemy ; and thus, one part of the army beginning 
to back while those behind pressed forward, a state of confusion 
which can only be described as a dreadful squeege was the 
immediate consequence. " Now then, stupid," resounded from 
rank to rank, and comrade addressed comrade with the words 
"Where are you shoving to?" The king got hurried head fore- 
most almost into the English camp, in spite of the vehement cries 
of " Keep back ! " which, however, were no sooner acted upon than 
the rear ranks were seized with a panic, and the soldiery began 
tumbling over each other like those battalions in tin which in 
youthful days have fallen prostrate beneath the power of the pea- 
shooter. 

Philip, who had never intended to take the honour of a foremost 
rank, w r as pushed willy-nilly into the front place, like a gentleman 
who happened to bo walking down the Haymarket on an opera night, 
and found himself suddenly engulfed in a stream which washed him 
off his legs, and left him high and dry in a stall to which he had been 
driven by the impetuosity of the torrent. Finding himself in the 
heat of an engagement in which he had not intended to be so closely 
engaged, his French majesty called to the Genoese crossbow-men to 
advance, but they pleaded sudden indisposition and fatigue, when 
Philip's brother deeply offended them by exclaiming — " See what we 
get by employing such scoundrels, who fail us in our need ! " The 
Genoese were rather nettled — that is to say, somewhat stung — by 
this remark, and made a rush which was worth no more than a rush, 
for they were really worn out with their morning's walk, and felt 
fitter to be in bed than in battle. Though their arms and legs were 
tired, they still had the full use of their lungs, and began to shout 
out with tremendous vehemence, in the hope of frightening the 
English. This horrible hooting had no effect, and a Scotch veteran, 
by happily exclaiming "Hoot awa ! " turned the laugh in favour of 
the English. Upon this, the Genoese gave another fearful yell, when 
one of Edward's soldiers inquired whether the crossbow-men wanted 
to frighten away the birds, and gave them the nickname of the 
heavy scarecrows. They advanced a step, when the English archers 
sent forth a volley of arrows, which fell like a snowstorm upon the 
Genoese, who, converting their shields into umbrellas, tried to take 
shelter under them. Philip was so disgusted with this pusillanimous 
conduct, that he cried out in a fury, " Kill me these scoundrels, for 



CHAP. IV. J 



ED WARD THE THIRD AT CRESSY. 



177 



they stop our way without doing any good 1 " And tho poor Genoese 
caught it severely from both sides. 

During the battle, Edward sat on the tip top of a windmill, situated 
on the summit of a lofty hill, where, completely out of harm's way, 
he could watch the progress of the action. While in this elevated 
position, he was asked by a messenger to send a reinforcement to the 







Edward the Third at the Battle of Cresay. 



Prince of Wales, who was performing prodigies of valour. " I'm glad 
to hear it," said the affectionate father ; " but," he added, " return to 
those who sent you, and tell them they shall have no help from me. 
Let the boy win his spurs," continued the old humbug, who was too 
selfish to put himself out of the way to assist his son, and would 
rather have let him perish than make any sacrifice to aid him in his 
arduous struggles. 

When these unaided exertions came to a triumphant issue, the 
father endewoured to gain a reflected glory from the brilliance of his 
son's achievements. It is, however, due to the reputation of the 
latter to assert that the glory was all his own ; for his selfish father 
had taken care of himself, while the son fought the battle alone, and 



178 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

won it without any assistance that it was in the power of his parcnl 
to have afforded, him. 

Poor Philip fought desperately as long as he could, till John ot 
Hainault, who had several times advised him to " go home and go to 
bed, for it was of no use," went up to the horse of the French king, 
seized the bridle, and quietly led him off in the direction of the 
nearest green-yard. Seeing it was a bad job, Philip requested to be 
taken to the castle of La Broye, but the gates were shut, and the 
chatelain, looking out of window, inquired who was knocking him up 
at such an unreasonable hour. " Me," cried Philip, in the grammar 
of the period; but "Who's me?" was the only response of the 
governor. "Why, don't you know me? I'm Philip, the fortune of 
France." "Pretty fortune, indeed! " muttered the chatelain, as he 
came downstairs, keys and candle in hand, to admit his unfortunate 
sovereign. The king's suite had dwindled down to five barons,* who 
turned in anywhere for the night, on sofas and chairs, while Philip 
took the spare bed usually kept for visitors. 

Thus ended the memorable Battle of Creasy, from our account of 
which we must not omit the incident of the king of Bohemia, who, 
old and blind, was perverse enough to tie the bridle of his horse to 
those of two knights, and with them he plunged into the midst of 
the battle. Considering that he could not have seen his way, there 
is something very rash, though perhaps very valiant, in this be- 
haviour. Nor should w r e in our admiration of the bravery of the 
king of Bohemia, forget to sympathise with the two knights, upon 
whom he must have been a precious drag, by tying his horse's bridle 
to theirs, and making them no doubt the victims of a most unfortu 
nate attachment. The king of Bohemia of course fell, for the union 
he had formed w T as anything but strength, and the Prince of Wales 
picking up his crest — a plume of ostrich feathers — adopted it for his 
own, with the celebrated motto of Ich Dicn.j The literal meaning 
of this motto is simply "I serve," but it has been very naturally 
suggested that " I am served out" would have been a more appro- 
priate translation of the phrase, as long as it appertained to the un- 
fortunate king of Bohemia. Bapin, the French historian, who 
is naturally anxious to make the best case he can for his countrymen, 
attributes their defeat at Cressy to the use of gunpowder by the 
English, who introduced, for the first time in war, a small magazine 
of this startling novelty. Such a magasin des owuvcautes of course 
would have taken the French by surprise, and would easily have 
accounted for any little deficiency of valour they might have exhibited. 
When the battle was'over, Edward sneaked out of his windmill, 
where he professed to have been "overlooking the reserve," and joined 
his successful son, whom he warmly congratulated on his position. 

The night after the battle was of course a gala night with the 
English, who lighted fires, torches, and candles, including probably 

* Froissart. 

t Doubts licoyo been lately cast on this old story. See the Cabinet Pot trail 
Gallery of British Worthies, vol. i., \>. 81. 






CHAr. IV. J BESIEGING OF CALAIS. 179 

" fifty thousand additional lamps," in celebration of the victory. So 
excellent, however, were the regulations on the occasion, that wo 
have not heard of a single instance of disturbance or accident. The 
day after the battle was disgraced by a series of attacks on some 
French unfortunates, who not knowing of the defeat of their king, 
were coming to his assistance. It happened that, as if to make the 
English quite at home, a regular English fog set in, and some French 
militia, not being able to see their way very clearly, mistook a 
reconnoitring party of the enemy for their own countrymen. The 
French hastened to join their supposed comrades, but soon found out 
their mistake from the cruel treatment they experienced. Other 
stragglers who had missed their way in the mist, were also savagely 
attacked, and when Edward heard the facts, he sent out Lords 
Cobham and Stafford, with three heralds, to recognise the arms, and 
two secretaries to write down the names of those that had fallen. 
The party returned in the evening, with a list of eleven princes, 
eighty bannerets, twelve hundred knights, and thirty thousand com- 
moners. We can only say that the herald of those days could not 
have been such a very slow affair as the Herald of these, and the 
secretaries must have written not merely a running but a galloping 
hand to have in so few hours deciphered the arms, and made a list of 
the names of such an enormous number of individuals. 

Having remained over Sunday at Cressy, Edward set out on 
Monday morning for Calais, with the intention of besieging it. 
While he was occupied abroad, his enemy, little David Bruce, at the 
instigation of Philip, attempted to disturb England. After a brief 
campaign, in which the Scotch king was joined by the Earls of 
Monteith and Fife, David Bruce was placed in custody. Monteith 
lost his head for showing his teeth, and Fife would have had a stop 
put to him, but for his relationship to the Koyal Family, his mother 
having been niece to the first Edward. 

Calais was kept in a state of blockade, for the English king had 
resolved upon hemming in and starving out the inhabitants. John 
de Vienne, who was the governor, finding provisions getting low, 
turned what he called the " useless mouths " out of the place, and 
among these " useless mouths " were a number of women, who must 
have been rare specimens of their sex to have kept their mouths in a 
state of uselessness. The brutal policy of John de Vienne was to 
continue weeding the population as long as he could by turning out 
the old and helpless, the women and the children. Seventeen 
hundred victims were thrust from the town and driven towards the 
English lines by the Governor of Calais, who was reckless of the 
lives of the citizens so long as the sacrifice enabled him to hold out 
and gain a character for bravery. 

It is easy for a military commander to win a reputation for ex- 
treme heroism if he is utterly regardless of the expense, and chooses 
to pay for it in the blood of those under his control ; but it is the 
duty of the historian to audit the accounts and justly strike the 
balance. In looking into the case of John de Vienne we adjudge him 
guilty of fraudulent bankruptcy in his reputation, for he sought to 

N — 2 



ISO COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IIL 

establish himself in the good books of public opinion by trading on 
the lives of the citizens of Calais, which were his only capital. If 
he were now before us, we should assume the part of a commissioner, 
and should say to him, " Go, sir. We cannot grant you your pro- 
tection from the heavy responsibilities you incurred when you wasted 
human life which you were bound to preserve as far as you were able. 
You have violated a sacred trust ; and we must therefore adjourn 
your further examination sine die, for it is quite impossible to grant 
you your certificate." 

As long as John de Vienne could find anything to cat, and could 
have his table tolerably well provided, he held out ; but when star- 
vation threatened himself as well as the citizens, he asked permission 
to capitulate. Edward, annoyed by the obstinacy of the resistance, 
refused to come to any terms short of an unconditional surrender, 
but he at length consented to spare the town on condition of six 
burgesses coming forth naked in their shirts, with halters round their 
necks, and without anything on their legs, as a proof of their 
humiliation being utterly inexpressible. When John de Vienne was 
apprised of this resolution, he called a meeting in the market-place, 
and stated the hard condition which Edward had imposed, but the 
governor had not the heroism to propose to make one of the party 
required for the sacrifice. He was exceedingly eloquent in urging 
others to come forward, and was loud in his protestations that such 
an " eligible opportunity," such an " opening for spirited young men " 
would never occur again ; but the citizens turned a deaf ear to all 
his arguments. No one seemed inclined to set a noble example, but 
all the inhabitants gave way to a piteous fit of howling, until Eustace 
de St. Pierre, a rich burgess, drying his eyes and mopping up bis 
emotion with the cuff of his coat, offered himself as the first victim. 
Eive others followed his example, and the six heroes, taking off their 
trousers, prepared to throw themselves into the breach, and slipping 
off their slippers, went barefooted into the presence of the conqueror. 
He eyed the miserable objects with malicious pleasure, and according 
to Froissart, insulted the unhappy burgesses by a series of grimaces, 
like those with which the clown accompanies the ironical inquiry of 
" How are you? " which he always addresses to his intended victim 
in a pantomime. The wretched state of the burgesses shivering in 
their shirts — but not shaking in their shoes, for thev were barefooted 
— had a softening influence on all but Edward, who with a clownish 
yell of " I've got you ! " desired that the headsman might be sent for 
immediately. The queen threw herself on her knees, and repre- 
senting that she had never asked a favour of Edward in her life, 
entreated him to spare the trembling citizens. " Look at them ! " 
exclaimed her majesty, as she dragged one forward and turned him 
round and round to show what a miserable object he was. " Look 
at them ! and observe how piteously they implore mercy ; for though 
their tongues do not speak, their teeth are constantly chattering." 
Edward looked at his wife, and then at the citizens. " I wish," said 

he to the former, " that you had been somewhere else; but take 

the miserable beggars and do what you can with them," Philippa 



CHAP. IV.] SURRENDER OF CALAIS. 183 

instantly took the coil of rope from the necks that were so nearly on 
the point of " shuffling off the mortal coil," and told them to go and 
get rigged out in a suit of clothes each, which made the oldest of them 
obsen*> that " the rigger of the queen was much less formidable than 
the rigour of the king, with which they had been so lately 
threatened." 

The imbecility to which fear had "brought their minds is fearfully 
shadowed forth in this miserable piece of attempted pleasantry, and 
it was perhaps fortunate that Edward did not overhear a pun, the 
atrocity of which he might have been justified in never pardoning. 
The six citizens having received their dressing, in a more agreeable 
shape then they had expected, and having sat down to an excellent 
dinner, provided at the queen's expense, were dismissed with a 
present of six nobles each, that they might not be without money in 
their pockets. As they partook of the meal prepared for them, the 
wag of the party, whose vapid jokes had already endangered the 
lives of himself and his companions, ventured to observe that he 
should look upon the ordinary as one of the most extraordinary 
events in his life ; but' as none of the king's servants were at hand 
to overhear the miserable jew de mot, it was not followed by the fatal 
consequences we might otherwise have been compelled to chronicle. 

On the 3rd of August, 1347, Edward and his queen made their 
triumphant entry into Calais, which was transformed into an English 
colony ; and as the residents of that early period were debtors to the 
generosity of the sovereign, the place has become a favourite resort 
for debtors even to the present moment. 

Edward having returned to England began to try the squeezability 
of his Parliament, and got up various pretexts for demanding money. 
He pretended to ask advice about carrying on the war with France, 
but the Parliament suspecting his intention declined giving any 
answer to his message. He next had recourse to intimidation, by 
spreading a report that the French contemplated invasion ; and 
though it was little better than a cry of "Old Bogey," it had the 
desired effect. There is no doubt that Edward was guilty of 
obtaining money under false pretences, for he and Philip had agreed 
between themselves for a truce, and yet each taxed his subjects 
under the pretence that war might be imminent. 

About the year 1344, according to some, but in the year 1350, 
on the authority of Stowe, the celebrated Order of the Garter 
was founded. If we may put faith in an old fable, it originated in 
the Countess of Salisbury having danced her stockings down at 
a court ball ; when the king seeing her garter dangling at her 
heels, took hold of it and gave it to her, exclaiming, Honl soit 
qui mat y pense, which was a cut at some females who pretended 
to be shocked at the incident. Their smothered exclamations of 
"Well, I'm sure!" "Upon my word!"iand "Well, really I 
never! Did you ever?" were thus playfully rebuked by Edward 
the Third, who afterwards made the words we have quoted the 
motto of the Order. We need scarcely tell our readers in this 
enlightened age that Homi soit qui mal y pensc is equivalent to saying 



J 84 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[bOok fit. 



that those who see harm in an innocent act, derive from thernselveg 
all the evil that presents itself. 

Edward's old enemy, Philip of France, was now dead, but his son 
and successor, John, continued the truce, or renewed the accommo- 




Origiu of the Order of the Garter. 

dation bill, which was entered into for the purpose of stopping pro- 
ceedings on either side. In state affairs, as in pecuniary matters, 
these temporary arrangements are seldom beneficial, for they cause a 
frightful accumulation of interest, which must some time or other be 
paid off or wiped out at a fearful sacrifice. 

The Continental successes of the English king were marred by the 
trouble that Scotland gave to him, and he was often heard to say 
that " though he could make the French poodle — by whom he meant 
the king of France — do as he pleased, he hated the constant barking 
at his heels of the Scotch terrier." He therefore determined on 
attempting to buy the country out and out. So, going over to Eox- 
burgh, he asked Baliol point-blank what he would take for the whole 



CtiAP. IV. J *HE MTTfcfc Op rolcTiEftS. 185 

concern, exactly as it stood, including the throne, the title-deeds of 
the kingdom, and the crown and sceptre. " Let me see. What has 
it cost me? "said Baliol, evidently contemplating a bargain; but 
Edward interrupting him with "A precious deal more than it is 
worth," somewhat modified the figure that was on the tip of the 
tongue of the Scotch sovereign. " Will fifty thousand marks be too 
much? " observed the vendor, with an anxious look. But Edward's 
rapid " Oh, good morning ! " instantly told the wary Scot the shrewd- 
ness of his customer. " Stop, stop," said Baliol ; " I like to do business 
when I can. What will you give? for I'm really tired of the thing, 
and would be glad to accept any reasonable offer." Edward resumed 
his seat, made a few calculations on a scrap of vellum with a pocket- 
stile, and then, jumping up, exclaimed, " I'll tell you what I'll do with 
you. I'll give you five thousand marks down, and an annuity of 
£2000 per annum." 

The bargain was struck. With the title-deeds laden, Edward joy- 
fully flew to his own country, and he had scarcely turned his back 
when "Adieu!" said Baliol ; "you are not the first humbug who, 
coming to cheat, have got cheated yourself." The fact was, that the 
Scotchman, with characteristic cunning, got the best of the bargain, 
for the crown had been fearfully ill-used, the sceptre had got all the 
glitter worn off by the hard rubs it had endured, and the throne 
would cost more to keep in substantial repair than twice its value. 

Edward having bought up the country, began to exercise the right 
of ownership by setting fire to little bits of it. He marched through 
the Lothians, where he met with loathing on every side, and set 
Haddington as well as Edinburgh in flames, which caused Scotland 
to be prophetically called the Land of Burns by a sage of the period. 

While the king was thus engaged at home, his son Edward, the 
Black Prince, so called from the colour of his armour, which he had 
blackleaded to save the trouble of keeping it always bright, was 
occupied in France, where he fought and won the famous battle of 
Poictiers. The truce had, with the customary faithlessness of royalty 
in those days, been broken. Young Edward, having a small force, 
made a most earnest appeal to his army, and said something very 
insinuating about " his sinewy English bowmen." 

Before the commencement of the battle, a diplomatist of the name 
of Talleyrand, who seems to have been worthy of his celebrated 
modern successor, rode from camp to camp trying to arrange the 
affair, and making himself very influential with both parties. John 
was, however, so confident in the superiority of his numbers that he 
declined a compromise, except on the most humiliating terms, to the 
Black Prince, who looked blacker than ever when the degrading 
proposition was made to him. 

On the 19th of September, 1356, the battle began with a duet played 
by two trumpets — one on each side — but this did not last long, for 
neither party desired to listen to overtures. The French commenced 
the attack, but they came to the point a little too soon, for they actually 
ran upon the arrows of the English bowmen . The Constable of Franco 
tried to inspire courage into the troops on his side by roaring out 



18G COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [COOK III. 

" Mountjoy ! St. Denis ! " but a stalwart Briton, telling him to hold 
his noise, felled him to the ground. A strong body of reserve, who 
carried their reserve to downright timidity, fled without striking a blow, 
They had scarcely drawn their swords, and received the word of 
command to " cut away," when they did literally cut away, and having 
cut refused to come again . John of France flourished his battle-axe with 
ferocious courage ; but at last he received two tremendous blows in the 
face which brought him to the ground. His son Philip, a lad of sixteen, 
fought by his side, encouraging him with cries of " Give it 'em, father I " 
which aroused the almost exhausted John, and caused him to recover 
his legs. Every kind of verbal insults was offered to him by the 
enemy, and particularly by the Gascons, who indulged in a great deal of 
their usual gasconade. " Stand and surrender!" cried a voice; to 
which John replied, " If I could stand, I would not surrender, but I 
suppose I must fall into your hands." With this he tottered into a circle 
of English knights, by whom he was nearly torn to pieces in the scramble 
that arose for the royal captive. Some among the crowd of his victors 
endeavoured to induce his majesty to place himself under their charge, 
and one or two began to talk to him in bad French, when Sir Denis, 
a real Frenchman, who had been dismissed from the service of his own 
country and entered that of England, addressed the monarch politely 
in his native tongue. John was in the act of offering up his glove to 
this gentleman as a token of surrender, when the royal gauntlet was 
torn to pieces by the surrounding knights, who all wanted to have a 
finger in it. Everyone was eager to claim the French monarch, who 
seemed on the point of being torn to pieces like a hare by a pack of 
ill-bred hounds. " I took him," exclaimed fifty voices at once, when 
the Earl of Warwick, rushing into the front, thundered forth in a 
stentorian voice, " Can't' you leave the man alone?" and drawing 
John's arm within his own, led off the conquered king to the camp of 
Edward. Warwick took little Philip by the hand, and presented father 
and son to the Black Prince, who received them with much courtesy.* 
He invited them both to supper, w r aited on the French king at table, and 
soothed his grief with probably such kind expressions as "Poor old 
chap ! " " Never mind, old fellow ! " and other words-of respectful sym- 
pathy. The Black Prince made them his companions to London, which 
they entered in the character of his prisoners, on the 24th of April, 1357. 
The pageant was very magnificent, the citizens hanging out their plate 
to do honour to the occasion ; and the windows were filled with spoons, 
just as they are when a modern Lord Mayor's show is to be seen 
within the city. Edward had, now a couple of kings in custody ; but 
in November, 1357, one of them, David Bruce, was released, upon 
drawing a bill for one hundred thousand marks on his Scotch subjects. 
There can be no doubt that the latter were regularly sold by their weak- 
minded monarch, who had become the mere creature of the English 
sovereign. John remained in captivity in London, while Edward carried 
the war into France ; but having got nearly as far as Paris, he was 
caught in a shower, which completely wet him down, and diluted all the 



Froissart, 






ciiAr. iv.] 



EELEASE OF JOHN OF FltAXCE. 



137 



spirit he had, up to that point, exhibited.* The wind was terrific ; but it 
was not one of those ill winds that blow nobody good, for the blow it 
inflicted on the courage of Edward made good for those he came to 
fight against. The French justly hailed the rain as a welcome visitor, 




Edward, the Black Prince, conducting his Prisoner. 

for it completely softened Edward by regularly soaking him. On tho 
8th of May, 1360, peace was concluded, and John was set at large on 

* Froissart, Knygh'-, Rymor, and Company. 



183 Comic history op Englano. ^book m - 

condition of the payment of three million crowns of gold, which was 
rather a heavy sum for getting one crown restored to him. Some 
hostages were given for the fulfilment of the bargain ; but poor John 
found he had undertaken more than he could perform, and though he 
did not exactly stop payment, it was because he had never commenced 
that operation. He was exceedingly particular in money matters, 
and it annoyed him not to be able to fulfil his pecuniary arrange- 
ments. Some of his bail having bolted, he could bear the degrada- 
tion no longer, and he voluntarily went over to London, where he 
put himself in prison, as a defaulter, though others say it was a love 
affair in England, rather than his honesty as a debtor, which brought 
him up to town. The royal insolvent did not long survive, for lie 
died in the month of April, 1364, at the Palace of the Savoy ; and it 
was tauntingly said of him by a contemporary buffoon, that the debt 
of nature was the only debt he had ever paid. 

The Black Prince, who had been created Duke of Aquitaine, 
governed for his father in the South of Prance, but was induced to 
espouse the cause of one Pedro, surnamed the Cruel, who, for his 
ferocious conduct, had been driven from the throne of Castile. 
Bertrand du Gueselin, a famous knight in his day, and Don Enrique, 
the illegitimate brother of the tyrant, had expelled him from his 
dominions, when the Black Prince, tempted by offers of an enormous 
salary, undertook to restore Pedro to his position. Edward fought 
and conquered, but could not get paid for his services ; and, as he 
had undertaken the job by contract, employing an army of mercen- 
aries at his own risk, he was harassed to death by demands for 
which he had made himself liable. Captains were continually calling 
to know when he intended to settle that little matter, until he got 
tired of answering that it was not quite convenient just now ; and he 
that had never turned his back upon an enemy, ran away as hard as 
he could from the importunity of his creditors. Pedro, abandoned 
by his chief supporter, agreed to a conference with his half brother 
Enrique ; but cruelty seems to have been a family failing, for the 
couple had scarcely met when they fell upon each other with the fury 
of wild beasts, and Pedro the Cruel was stabbed by Enrique the 
Crueller, who threw himself at once upon the throne.* 

Charles of France now thought that the harassed mind and de- 
clining health of the Black Prince afforded an eligible opportunity of 
attacking him. His Eoyal Highness resisted as well as he could ; 
but he was so exceedingly indisposed that he was carried about on a 
litter from post to post, as if he had been compelled to rest at the 
corner of every street through sheer exhaustion. He marched, or 
rather was jostled, towards Limoges, the capital of the Limousin, 
which lie stormed in two places at once ; and at the sight of the pair 
of breaches he had rsade, the women fled in inexpressible terror and 
confusion. His conduct to these poor defenceless creatures was 
merciless in the extreme ; and this one incident in the life of the 
Black Prince is sufficient to give to his name all the blackness that is 

• Froissart. — Mariana. 



CHAP. IV.] DEATH OP EDWARD THE THIKD. 189 

attached to it. Some allowance may, however, be perhaps made for the 
state of his health, which now took him to England to recruit — not in a 
military but in a physical sense — but it was too late, for he died at 
Canterbury, on the 8th of January, 1376, to the great regret of his father, 
who only kept the respect of the people through his son's popularity. 

Edward the Third had been for some time leading a very disreputable 
life, and had been captivated by one Alice Perrers, to whom ho had 
given the jewels of the late queen, and who had the effrontery to 
wear them when abroad in the public thoroughfares. Among other 
freaks of his dotage was a tournament which he gave in Smithfield — 
the origin, no doubt, of the once famous Bartholomew Fair— where 
Alice Perrers figured in a triumphal chariot, as the Lady of the Sun, 
the king himself appearing in the character of the Sun, though it was 
the general remark that, as the couple sat side by side, the Sun looked 
old enough to be the father. 

It was towards the close of this reign that Wycliffe, the celebrated 
precursor of Huss, Luther, and Calvin, as well as the curser of popery, 
Began preaching against the abuses of the Catholic clergy. His cause 
was espoused by the Duke of Lancaster, who had been in power since 
the death of the Black Prince, and who is said to have taken 
Wycliffe's part so ardently, as to have threatened to drag the Bishop 
of London by the hair of his head out of St. Paul's Cathedral. Con- 
sidering that the priest was all shaven and shorn, it would have been 
difficult for Lancaster to have carried out his threat by tugging out 
the bishop in the manner specified. It is a curious fact that this 
alleged attack on one of the heads of the church was soon followed 
by a general burden on the national poll, in the shape of a poll-tax, 
which was imposed to provide for the renewal of the war, as the 
truce in existence was on the point of expiring. 

Edward had now become old and miserable ; for having done nothing 
to gain the affection of others, he was abandoned at the close of his 
life, by even the members of his own family. One or two sycophants 
clung to him, in the hope of getting something ; but his children had 
all separate interests of their own, for the cold and selfish conduct of 
their parent had driven them quite away from him. He endeavoured 
to give decency to the close of his existence, by a general amnesty 
for all minor offences ; but it was now too late to gain him friends, 
and the wretched old man was left alone with Alice Perrers. He 
died in her arms at his villa at Sheen, near Eichmond, on the 21st of 
June, 1377, and she took advantage of being by his side at his death, 
to rob him of a valuable ring, which she took from his finger in his 
last moments, when he was too weak to resist the robbery. Were 
the shade of Edward the Third to present itself before us for a 
testimonial, we should advise the spectre, for its respectability's sake, 
not to ask us for a character. 

Much good was done in the reign we have been describing ; but 
this is only another illustration of the well-known truth that the 
prosperity of a country does not always depend on the virtues of the 
sovereign. Perhaps the most valuable measure passed by Edward 
was an act limiting to three principal heads the cases of high treason, 



190 



COMIC niSTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[noon III 



of wliich a hundred heads, all filled with teeth, might until then have 
been considered symbolical. This wholesome statute had at least the 
effect of changing a Hydra into a Cerberus. The leash of crimes 
that this Cerberus was empowered to hunt down were, conspiring the 
death of the king, levying war against him, or adhering to his enemies. 
A curious question arose sometime afterwards under the last of these 
three divisions, when a loyal subject was nearly being condemned for 
adhering to the king's enemies, though it appeared he had adhered 
only in the sense of sticking to them, with a view to punish them. 

The conduct of Edward the Third to David Bruce, his brother-in- 
law, was unjust in the extreme; and though the Black Prince made 
his way by his own talents, he does not appear to have owed his ad- 
vancement to any assistance that his father ever afforded him. Some 
useful alterations were made in the law T , and the power of the Commons 
advanced ; but the taxes were fearfully increased, as if the liberality 
of the people was expected as an equivalent for the liberality of the 
Government. The money collected was not altogether wasted in 
war, for some of it went in the building of Windsor Castle, of which 
William of Wickham was the architect. The first turnpike ever 
known in England, was started also under Edward the Third, between 
St. Giles's and Temple Bar, where to this day the successor of the 
ancient pikeman rushes forth to levy a toll on carts that enter the 
city. On the same principle, that out of evil good often comes, 
Edward the Third may be regarded as a benefactor to his subjects. 



CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 

RICHARD Till] SECOND, SURNAMED OF BORDEAUX. 



-~? F little 

J'/M Richai 
fflffl veryg 



F little and good were always identical. 
ard the Second would have been a 
good king, for he was a little boy of 
eleven years of age when the crane of 
circumstances hoisted him on to the 
throne of his grandfather. Young 
Richard was the only surviving son of 
Edward the Black Prince, and out of 
compliment to the juvenile monarch, his 
coronation in Westminster Abbey was 
made as gaudy as possible. No expense 
was spared in dresses and decorations ; 
but the ceremony not being over till it 
was high time all children should be in 
bed and asleep, the boy king was com- 
pletely exhausted before the spectacle 
was half over. Stimulants were ad- 
ministered to keep the child up ; but 
when the heavy crown was plr ced on his 
brow, the diadem completely overbalanced a head already oscillating 




CHAI\ V.J 



ACCESSION OP RICHARD THE SECOND. 



191 



from side to side with excessive drowsiness. His attendants tumbled 
him into a litter, and hurried him into a private room, where, by dint 
of the most scarifying restoratives held to his nose, he so far recovered 
as to be enabled to create four earls and nine knights, partake of a 
tremendous supper, dance at a ball, and listen to a little minstrelsy.* 

It was at the coronation of Eichard the Second that we first find 
mention in history of a champion rushing into Westminster Hall, 
throwing his gauntlet on the ground, and offering to fight any number 
— one down and another come on — who may dispute the title of the 
sovereign. The gallantry of the challenge is not very considerable, 
for it is a well-understood thing beforehand that the police will keep 
all suspicious characters out of the Hall, and the only difficulty re- 
quired is in backing out of the Hall on horseback ; as, if a claimant to 
the throne should actually appear, the champion would no doubt back 
cleverly out of his challenge. Even this trifling merit must, however, 
be assigned to the horse, who is generally a highly-trained palfrey 
from the neighbouring amphitheatre, and is let out, trappings and 
all included, to the Champion of England for the performance in 
which his services are required. 




Fancy Portrait of the Champion of England. 

Though Eichard was not too young for the position of king, it was 
not to be supposed that a boy of his age could be of any use what- 
ever, and twelve permanent councillors were therefore appointed, to 
do the work of government. It was expected that the Duke of 
Lancaster, alias John of Gaunt, would have been appointed regent, 
bub not one of the king's uncles w T as named, and John, 



looking 



* We get these facts from Walsingham, who gives an elaborate account of the 
coronation. Walsingham says, they waltzed till all was blue, which means, until 
the cccrulean dawn began to make its appearance. 



192 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOK III. 

gaunter* than ever, withdrew in stately dudgeon to his Castle of 
Kenilworth. 

The truce with France having expired, without renewal, some 
attacks were made on the English coast, and advantage was taken of 
the circumstance to ask the Parliament for a liberal supply. Every 
appeal to the patriotism of the people was in those days nothing more 
than an attack upon their pockets ; and it is not improbable that, by 
an understanding among the various kings of Europe, one of them 
should be threatened with attack if he required a pretext for obtain- 
ing a subsidy from his subjects. 

Notwithstanding the money taken from the public purse for the 
national defence, the work was so utterly neglected by the Govern- 
ment, that John Philpot, a shipowner and merchant of London, 
equipped a small fleet of his own, with which he captured several of 
the enemy's vessels. The authorities feeling the act to be a reflection 
on their own shameful dereliction of duty, censured Philpot for his 
interference; but the worthy alderman, by replying — " Why did you 
leave it to me to do, when you ought to have done it yourselves?" 
effectually silenced all remonstrance. 

Young Eichard, or those who acted for him, continued to make 
ducks and drakes of the money of the English, which was being 
constantly wasted in wanton warfare. The setting up of a duke 
here, or the taking down of a king there, though the English felt no 
interest whatever in either the duke or the king, became a pretext 
for levying a tax on the people. In order that none should escape, 
so much per head was imposed on every one from the highest to the 
lowest. The tax varied with the rank of the person ; and while a 
duke or archbishop was assessed at six thirteen four (£6 13s. 4(7.) 
a lawyer was mockingly mulcted of six and eightpence. Such was 
the unpopularity of the poll-tax, that a regular pollish revolution 
speedily broke out, which was fomented by the exactions of some 
mercenary speculators to whom the tax had been farmed out by the 
Government. Commissioners were sent into the disturbed districts 
to enforce payment, and one Thomas de Bampton, who sat at 
Brentwood in Essex, with two serjeants-at-arms, was glad to take to 
his legs, to escape the violence of the populace, who sent him flying 
all the way to London, where he rushed with his two attendants into 
the Common Pleas, and asked for justice. Sir Robert Belknape, the 
chief, was sitting at Nisi Prius, when Bampton begged permission to 
move the court as far as Essex. The judge followed by clerks, jurors, 
and ushers, consenting to the motion, went off to Brentwood, where 
they had no sooner arrived, than poor Belknape was seized by the 
nape of the neck and forced to flee, while the clerks and jurors were 
much more cruelly dealt with. 

Leaders were all that the people wanted, when a notorious priest 
who got the name of Jack Straw — from his being a man of that 
material — put himself at the head of the discontents. The throwing 

* John of Gaunt was not so called from his gaunt stature, as some suppose, bu| 
from Ghent, or Gaud (then called Gaunt) where the gent, was born, 



CHAP. V.] WAT TYLER AND THE MOB. 193 

up a straw will often tell which way the wind blows, and the elevation 
of Jack certainly indicated an approaching hurricane. During the 
excitement, one of the tax-gatherers called upon one Walter the Tyler, 
of Dartford, in Kent, to demand fourpence, due as Miss Walter's 
poll-tax. Mrs. Walter, with the vanity of her sex, wishing to make 
herself out younger than she really was, declared that the girl was 
not of the age liable by law to the imposition. The collector made a 
very rude remark on that very tender point, the ago of the elder lady, 
when she screamed out to her husband, who was tiling a house in 
the neighbourhood, to come and "punish the impertinent puppy." 
Walter, who had still his trowel in his hand, replied by crying out 
"Wait till I get at you;" and the tax-gatherer insolently calling 
out "What's that what you say, Wat?" so irritated Walter, that 
he at once emptied a hod of mortar on to the head of the 
collector. The functionary was, of course, dreadfully mortar-fied 
at this incident, but the trowelling he got with the trowel completely 
finished him. Everybody applauded what Wat had done, and he 
was soon appointed captain of the rebels. They released from prison 
a Methodist parson named John Ball, or Bawl, whom they called 
their chaplain. A nucleus having been formed, the mob increased 
with the rapidity of a snowball, picking up the scum of the earth at 
every turn, until it arrived at an alarming magnitude. The Tyler 
first visited Canterbury, where ho played some practical jokes upon 
the monks, and then came to Blackheath, where, finding the young 
king's mother — the widow of the Black Prince—he gave the old lady 
a kiss, and in this operation nearly every rebel followed his leader. 
Such were the liberties taken by the mob in their zeal on behalf of 
liberty, which they often affect to pursue by means of the vilest 
tyranny, cruelty, cowardice, and oppression. The insurgents made 
for London, when Walworth, the mayor, endeavoured to oppose their 
entrance ; but his efforts were vain, and several parts of the city were 
burnt and plundered. The Temple was destroyed by fire, and the 
lawyers running about in their black gowns amid the flames suggested 
a very obvious comparison. Newgate and the Fleet prisons were 
broken into, when all the scamps from both places at once assumed 
the character of patriots, and joined the cause of the people. 

It is astonishing how easily a scamp who is unfit for any honest 
occupation can at once become a friend of the masses. The prisons 
might at any time contribute a fresh supply, when the stock of lovers 
of liberty on hand may seem to be diminishing. Bapine and murder- 
were pursued with impunity for some time, the Government leaving 
matters to take their chance ; until a formal demand having been 
made by the mob for the heads of the Chancellor and Treasurer, it 
was thought high time to effect a compromise. A proclamation was 
issued announcing the king's intention to be at Mile End by a certain 
hour, and the people were politely requested to meet him there. On 
his reaching the spot where he intended to talk things over with his 
subjects, he found sixty thousand of them assembled ; and as they 
all began talking at once, a little confusion arose until the appoint- 
ment of a regular spokesman. At length the demands of sixty 

o 



191 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK !XT. 

thousand tongues were reduced to four heads, and to these the king 
agreed very graciously. The dispute might have ended mildly at 
Mile End, but for the violent proceedings of those who kept away 
from the meeting. These got into the Tower directly Eichard's back 
was turned, and the least of their offences was the rudeness they 
manifested towards the widow of the Black Prince, who had either 
dropt in to tea with the Archbishop and Chancellor or was per- 
manently residing there. This lady had got the name of the Fair 
Maid of Kent, a title that had many local variations, according to the 
part of the county in which she was spoken of. Sometimes they 
called her the Dartford Daisy, sometimes the Canterbury Belle, some- 
times the Greenwich Geranium, sometimes the Woolwich Wallflower, 
and occasionally, even the Heme Bay Hollyoak. 

The rioters rinding her in the Tower, treated the Fair Maid of 
Kent with excessive rudeness, comparing her lips to Kentish cherries, 
and making them the subject of the well-known game which is played 
by what is termed bobbing at the fruit specified. She was, in fact, 
nearly smothered in the Tower with the kisses of the malcontents. 
Her ladies were, of course, dreadfully shocked, and their screams of 
" Mi ! " at the treatment of their mistress were truly terrible. When 
remonstrated with on the liberty they were taking, they declared 
liberty to be the sacred object they were bent on furthering. The 
Fair Maid of Kent was at length dragged away by her attendants, 
who concealed her in a house called the royal w r ardrobe, or perhaps 
put her into a clothes-cupboard, to keep her out of the w r ay of the rioters. 

The Mile End charter had been very nicely written out by order 
of the king, but Wat Tyler and his followers refused to have anything 
to do with it. Bichard. tried another charter with more concessions, 
but this had no effect ; and at length he drew up a third, wmich w r ent 
still further than the two first, for the king, or those who advised 
him, cared not how much was promised to answer a temporary pur- 
pose, as there was never any difficulty in breaking a pledge that might 
be found inconvenient. Whether or no Wat suspected the w T orthless- 
ness of charters, which might be sworn to one day and treated as 
w r aste paper the next, he refused to be satisfied with either of the 
documents offered to his approval. Finding written communications 
utterly useless, Bichard rode into town, with the intention of seeing 
what could be done by means of a personal interview. 

On reaching Smithfield he met Wat Tyler, and drew up opposite 
the gate of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, which was in those days an 
abbey. The incident which then happened has been variously 
described by different pens, but unless wo had at our command some 
of the Smithfield pens that happened to be present at the time, we 
could not vouch for the accuracy of any particular statement. Some 
say that Tyler came up in a bullying attitude, and flourished a dagger ; 
others allege that he seized the king's bridle, as if he would take out 
of the royal hands the reins of power ; a few hint that Wat was 
intoxicated, either with brief authority or something equally short ; 
but all agree that he received his quietus at the hands of one cl hig 
majesty's attendants. 






SHJLP V.] RICHARD MARRIES ANNE OP BOHEMIA. 195 

The mcric or responsibility of the death of Wat Tyler has i suaily 
been assigned to Walworth, Lord Mayor of London, who is said to 
have killed the rebel with his mace ;* but it is doubtful whether the 
civic potentate would be carrying his mace about with him during a 
morning's ride. 

The fall of the Tyler had a most depressing influence on his fol- 
lowers, and Eichard, riding up to them, offered his services as their 
leader. " Tyler was a traitor," cried the king : " I will be your cap- 
tain and your guide," when several of the mob consented to transfer 
themselves, like so many tools, from the hands of Wat to those of 
Eichard. Some of the rioters sneaked quietly away, while those that 
remained were paralysed ; for it was always the characteristic of an 
English mob, to go on very valiantly as long as they had it all their 
own way, but to turn tail and flee on the very first symptom of 
earnest resistance. 

Eichard, finding himself once more powerful, instead of tempering 
justice with mercy, threw in a strong seasoning of the most highly- 
spiced cruelty, and commenced a series of executions, in which there 
were nearly fifteen hundred victims to royal vindictiveness. As might 
have been expected from the state of royal honour at the time, he 
at once revoked all the charters to which he had agreed — an act 
which proved that Tyler took a very fair view of the worth of the 
concessions he had rejected. Jack Straw, one of the rioters, after 
being tauntingly told by the authorities that he, Straw, deserved to 
be thrashed, was among the sufferers by the law ; and an act was 
passed by which "riots and rumours and other such things" were 
turned into high treason. Considering that rumour has an incalcul- 
able number of tongues, which are not unfrequently all going at 
once, there must have been plenty to do under the act by which all 
rumours were converted into high treason. 

In the year 1382, Eichard was married to Anne of Bohemia, a most 
accomplished Bohemian girl, and the daughter of Charles the Fourth, 
the highly respectable emperor. The king had in the commencement 
of his reign been surrounded by a low set, placed about him by his 
mother, the Princess of Wales, for the purpose of excluding his uncles, 
who could not be expected to mix with ministers and officers whose 
vulgarity was shocking, and whose meanness was quite detestable. 
One of these fellows, John Latimer, a Carmelite friar, and an Irish- 
man, gave Eichard a parchment containing the particulars of a con- 
spiracy to place the crown on the head of his uncle, the Duke of 
Lancaster. The duke swore that the whole story was false; his 
accuser swore the contrary, and the dispute was at length settled by 
the strangulation of Latimer. Sir John Holland, the king's half- 
brother, was the alleged perpetrator of the savage act ; and indeed 
this gentleman subsequently disgraced himself by a homicide in the 
royal camp, for he pounced upon and killed one of the favourites. 

* Others say that the mace in the hands of Walworth was not the official mace, 
but a, mace belonging to a billiard marker in the mob. It is pretty certain that, 
wherever the mace may have come from, the insolence of Tyler furnished the cue. 

— 2 



196 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[BOOK III. 



"You're no favourite of mine," roared Holland, as he perpetrated 
the ruffianly act ; which proves the holland of that day to have been 
a very coarse material. 

The Duke of Lancaster having gone abroad to urge a stale, and 
rather hopeless, claim to the throne of Castile, Richard was left in 
the power of his more turbulent uncle, the Duke of Gloucester. This 
unpleasant person at once proposed a permanent Council of Regency, 
to which the king objected, when, with dramatic effect, one of the 
commons produced from under his cloak the statute by which 
Edward the Second had been deposed, and holding it to Richard's 
head, implied that his consent or his life were his only alternatives. 
Upon this he gave his consent, but about two years afterwards, at a 
council held in May, 1389, he suddenly took what is commonly called a 
new start, and rising up, addressed Gloucester with the words, "I say, 
Uncle, do you know how old I am?" "Of course I do," replied 
Gloucester, a little puzzled at the oddness of the question ; " you aro 
in your twenty-second year; and a fine boy you are of your age," 
continued the crafty duke ; " but why so particular about dates at tho 



[IlPUi 




1 tdmrd thinks it high time he managed his own affairs. 

prssent moment ? " " Because," replied the king, " I've been thinking 
i* I'm not old enough to manage my own attains new, I never shall be.'' 



CHAP. V.] RICHARD MARRIES ISABELLA. 197 

Aii expression of "lioity toity ! " came into the countenance of the 
duke ; but Richard continued, with much earnestness, that all the 
young men of his age were released from the control of their guar- 
dians, and he did not see why he should any longer be kept morally 
in pinafores. With this he thanked the council for their past ser- 
vices, which, however, he declared he should no longer require. Be- 
fore there was time to prevent him, he had snatched the seals from 
the archbishop, and seized the bunch of keys from the Bishop of 
Hereford. Everybody was completely dumbfounded by this exhibi- 
tion on the part of a lad who had never before been known to do 
more than stammer out a bashful "Bo I " to some goose he may have 
met with in his youthful wanderings. Gloucester was driven from 
the council, and the whole thing was done before anyone present had 
time — or if he had time he certainly omitted the opportunity — to say 
" Jack Robinson." An affecting reconciliation afterwards took place 
between Gloucester and the king ; but we believe the reconciliation 
itself to have been more affected than the parties who were concerned 
in it. 

Richard had soon afterwards the misfortune to lose his wife ; and 
in 1394 he went over to Ireland with a considerable army, but, as it 
would seem, less for the purpose of making war than making holiday. 
The English king never struck a blow, and tin Irish did not resist, so 
that the whole affair was a good deal like that portion of the perform- 
ance of Punch, in which one party is continually bobbing down his 
head, while the other is furiously implanting blows on vacancy. 
Richard entertained the Irish with great magnificence, and at one of 
the banquets said the evening was so pleasant he wished he could 
make several knights of it. Some of the guests taking up the idea, 
persuaded him to make several knights by knighting them, which he 
did with the utmost affability. 

Richard did not remain very long a widower, for in October, 1396, 
he married Isabella, the daughter of Charles the Sixth, an infant 
prodigy, for she was scarcely more than seven, though a prodigy, 
according to Froissart, of wit and beauty. Our private opinion — 
which we do not hesitate to make public — is that there must have 
been some mistake about the infant's age, and that the parents and 
nurses of that period were not so particular in proving registers and 
records of birth as they might, could, or should have been. The wit 
of a child of seven must have been fearfully forced to have been so 
early developed : and in spite of the tendency there has always been 
to exaggerate the merits of royalty, we respectfully submit that the 
faceticB of a child of seven must have been of the very smallest 
description. The king, who had never been cordially reconciled to 
Gloucester, was annoyed by the opposition of the latter to the royal 
marriage, and resolved on striking a blow at his uncle as well as at 
one or two of his chief partisans. Richard's plan was to ask people 
to dinner, and in the middle of one of the courses, give a signal to a 
sheriff's officer, who was concealed under the tablecloth, from which 
he sprang out and arrested the visitor. He served the Earls of Warwick 
and Arundel one after the other in this way, having invited them each 



198 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK III 

in turn to a chop, which it was designed that they should eventually 
get through the agency of a hatchet.* 

His uncle Gloucester was not to be caught in this way, and declined 
several invitations to a tete-a-tete, when Eichard, determined to accom- 
plish his object, went to Bleshy Castle in Essex, where his uncle 
was residing. " As you won't come to see me, I've come to see you," 
were the king's artful words, when he was naturally invited to partake 
of that fortune du pot which is the ever-ready tribute of English hos- 
pitality. While Eichard was doing the amiable with the Duchess, 
Gloucester, the Duke, was seized by one of the bailiffs in the suite — ■ 
disguised, of course, as a gentleman of the household — and hurried to 
the Essex shore, where he was shoved off in a boat, and conveyed, 
almost before he could fetch his breath, to Calais. 

It was the practice of Eichard to do things by fits and starts ; so 
that he accomplished an object very often by getting people to aid him 
without knowing exactly what they were about, in consequence of the 
suddenness with which he claimed their services. A few days after 
poor Gloucester had been " entered outwards " for Calais, the king 
went to Nottingham Castle, where, taking his uncles Lancaster and 
York by surprise, he pulled out a document, requesting them to 
favour him with their autographs. They could not very well refuse 
a request so strangely made, and it eventually turned out that they 
hadput their names to a bill of indictment against Gloucester, Warwick 
and Arundel. A Earliament was called to try the traitors, who were 
condemned, as a matter of course ; for Eichard, walking into the 
house with six hundred men-at-arms and a body-guard of archers, 
was pretty sure of a large majority. Arundel was beheaded, and a 
writ was issued against Gloucester, commanding him to return from 
Calais, to undergo the same disagreeable process. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately for the duke, he was dead before the 
writ could be served ; but the Earliament, though they could not kill 
him twice over, indulged the satisfaction of declaring him a traitor 
after his decease, by which all his property became forfeited. This 
proceeding was a good deal like robbing the dead ; but it was by no 
means contrary to the spirit of the period. Warwick pleaded guilty, 
and was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment in the Isle of Man — 
a sort of lucus a non lucendo, which was called the Isle of Man from 
there being scarcely a man to be seen in the place from one week's 
end to the other. 

The peculiar richness of this reign consists in the historical doubts, 
of which it is so full that the chroniclers are thrown into a state of 
pleasing bewilderment. Nobody knows what became of Gloucester 
while in captivity at Calais ; and therefore every writer is at liberty 
to dispose of the duke in any manner that may tempt an imagination 
inclining to riot and rampancy. The treatment of his Eoyal Highness 
1" comes truly dreadful in the hands of the various antiquarians and 
others who have undertaken to deal with him. By one set of authori- 

* This must not bo confounded with nn old legend, that he risked his friend; 
occasionally to a chop at Ilatchetl's— the well-known hotel in Piccadilly 



CHAT. V.] NORFOLK AND HEREFORD BANISHED. 199 

ties he is strangled, in accordance with the alleged orders of the king : 
others kill him of apoplexy ; a few poison him ; ten or a dozen drown 
him ; six or seven smother him ; but all agree in the fact that he was 
surreptitiously settled. We are the only faithful recorders of the real 
fact, when we state upon our honour that nobody knows the manner 
of the duke's death, which is involved in the dense fogs of dim obscurity 
Into these we will not venture, lest we lose our own way and mis- 
lead the reader who may pay us the compliment of committing 
himself to our guidance. 

Eichard having got rid of Gloucester, was anxious for the removal 
of Norfolk and Hereford, whom he involved in a quarrel with each 
other, intending that they should realise the legend of the Cats of 
Kilkenny. When, however, they had entered the lists to decide 
their dispute by wager of battle, Eichard thought it better to run no 
risk of either of them escaping, and he therefore sentenced both to 
banishment. Poor Norfolk, a pudding-headed fellow, who might 
have gone by the name of the Norfolk Dumpling, was soft enough to die 
of grief at Venice, on his road to Jerusalem, whither he contemplated 
a pilgrimage. Hereford remained in France, having been promised a 
pardon, but as it did not arrive he took French leave to return 
to England, in 1399, after scarcely more than a year's absence. 
His retinue was so small as to be utterly ridiculous, for it consisted 
of one exiled archbishop, fifteen knights, and a small lot of servants, 
who may be put down as sundries in the little catalogue. One fool, 
however, makes many, and one rebellious earl was soon joined by a 
number of other seditious nobles. 

The plan of Hereford was that of the political quack who pretends 
to have a specific for every disease by which the constitution is 
affected. He published a puffing manifesto declaring that he had no 
other object but the redress of grievances, and that the crown was 
the very last thing to which his thoughts were directed. One of his 
confederates to whom Hereford was reading the rough draft of his 
proposed address, suggested that the disclaimer of the crown which 
it contained, might prove inconvenient, when the royal diadem was 
really obtainable. " Don't you see," replied the crafty Hereford with 
a smile, " I have not compromised myself in any way. I have only 
said it is the last thing to which my thoughts are directed, and so 
indeed it is, for I think of it the last thing at night as well as the 
first thing in the morning." Thus with the salve of speciousness, did 
the wily earl soothe for a time the irritations of his not very tender 
conscience. 

The manifesto had its effect, for it is a remarkable fact that they 
who promise more than it is possible to perform, find the greatest 
favour with the populace ; for an undertaking to do what cannot be 
done always affords something to look forward to. Expectation is 
generally disappointed by fulfilment, and the most successful im- 
postors are consequently those who promise the most impracticable 
things without ever doing anything. The imposition cannot be 
detected until the impossibility of the thing promised is demon- 
strated ; and this does not often happen, for the difficulty of proving 



200 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[HOOK III. 



a negative is on all hands admitted. It was therefore a happy idea 
of Hereford, as a political adventurer, to promise a redress of every 
grievance ; and if he could have added to his pledge of interference 
dc omnibus rebus an assurance of his ultimately applying his panacea 
to qucedam alia, there is little doubt that he would have been even 
more successful than he was in augmenting the number of his 
followers. 

By the time he reached London he had got sixty thousand men of 
all sorts and sizes about him, for the people in those days were fond 
of changing their leaders, and Hereford was popular as the latest 
novelty. The Duke of York — the king's uncle — moved to the West 
End, as Henry and his forces entered at the East ; but Henry of 
Bolingbroke — alias Hereford, who was also the nephew of York — 
invited the latter to a conference. After talking the matter over, the 



u 1 1,1 1 1- 




Henry of Bolingbroke and the Duke of York ti-ansacting business. 



worthy couple agreed to a coalition ; the conduct of York being very 
like that of an individual left to guard a house, and joining with the 
thief who came to rob the premises. 

Richard, who was in Ireland, knew nothing of what was passing at 
home, for in consequence of contrary winds, the non-arrival of "our 
u-^uai express" was for three weeks a standing announcement with 



CHAP. V.] FLIGHT OF RICHARD. 201 

all the organs of intelligence. When he received the news from his 
" own reporter," he started for Milford Haven, where he was almost 
overwhelmed with disagreeable information from gentlemen who 
evinced the genius of true penny-a-liners in making the very most 
and the very worst of every calamitous incident. Eichard's soldiers 
seeing that their king more than ever required their fidelity and aid, 
immediately, according to the usual practice, ran away from him. 
"They deserted," says the chronicler, " almost to a man," and it is 
to be regretted that we have not the name of the " man " who formed 
the nearly solitary exception to the general apostacy. Whoever he 
may have been, he must have exei"cised a great deal of self-command, 
for he was, of course, his own officer ; he must have reviewed himself, 
as well as gone through the ceremony of putting himself on duty and 
taking himself off at the proper periods. We must not, however, take 
too literally the calculations of the old chroniclers, who reduce the 
number of Eichard's adherents to an almost solitary soldier, for the 
truth appears to be that the king mustered almost six thousand men 
out of the twenty thousand he had brought with him from Ireland. 
Flight was therefore his only refuge, and selecting from his stock of 
fancy dresses the disguise of a priest, Eichard, accompanied by his 
two half-brothers, Sir Stephen Scroop, the Chancellor, and the Bishop 
of Carlisle, with nine other followers, set off for the Castle of Conway. 
There he met the Earl of Salisbury and a hundred men, who had 
eaten every morsel of food to be found in the place, and Eichard was 
occupied in running backwards and forwards from Conway to Beau- 
maris, then on to Carnarvon, then back to Conway again, in a 
wretched race for a dinner. 

It is pitiable to find a king of England reduced to the condition de- 
scribed in the old nursery ditty. He went to Conway for provisions ; but 

" When he got there 
The cupboard was bare ; " 

and the same result followed his visit to Beaumaris and Carnarvon. 
Notwithstanding the number of bones that his subjects had to pick 
with him, there was not one in the larders of the three castles he 
visited. " And so," in the emphatic words of the nursery rhyme, " the 
poor dog had none." So complete was the desertion of Eichard, that 
the Master of the Household, Percy, Earl of Worcester, called all the 
servants together, and broke his wand of office, accompanying the act 
by exclaiming, " Now I'm off to Chester, to join the Duke of Lan- 
caster." This ceremony was equivalent to a discharge of all the 
domestics under him, and the king, had he returned to his abode, 
would have been compelled to " do for himself " in consequence of the 
disbanding of all his menials. The members of the establishment, 
fancying they had an opportunity of bettering themselves, did not 
hesitate to follow the example of their chief, and there is no doubt 
that a long list, headed want places, was at once forwarded to the 
Duke of Lancaster. 

Having ransacked every corner of Conway Castle without finding 
any provisions, Eichard had nothing left but an unprovisional sur- 



202 



comic nisrcr.Y op England. 



[book III. 



render. He got as far as Flint Cattle, which was only three miles 
from Chester, but he found the inhabitants had flinty hearts, and he 
met with no sympathy. Henry of Bolingbroke came to meet him, 
when Eichard, touching his hat, bid welcome to his " fair cousin of 
Lancaster." " My lord," replied Henry, somewhat sarcastically, 
" I'm a little before my time, but, really, your people complain so 
bitterly of your not having the knack to rule them, that I've come to 
help you." Eichard gave a mental " Umph ! " but added, " Well, well, 
be it as you will," for his hunger had taken away all his appetite for 
power. After a repast, unto which the king did much more ample 
justice than he had ever done to his subjects, a hackney was sent for, 




Richard the Second conducted a prisoner to Chester. 



and Eichard rode a prisoner to Chester. No one pitied him as he 
passed, though the spectacle was a truly wretched one. The horse 
was a miserable hack, while Eichard himself was hoarse with a hack- 
ing cough, caught in the various exposures to wind and weather he 
had undergone in his vicissitudes. The dismal cortege having put up 
at Litchfield for the king and his horse to have a feed, of which both 
were greatly in want, Eichard made a desperate attempt, while the 
waiter was not in the room, to escape out of a window. He had run 
a little way from his guards, but a cry of " Stop thief! " caused him 
to be instantly pursued, and, when taken, he was well shaken for the 
trouble lie had occasioned. He was treated with increased severity, 



CHAP. V.] RICHARD SIGNS HIS ABDICATION. 203 

and on arriving in London was conveyed, amid the liootings of the 
mob, to the Tower. 

Parliament had been appointed to meet on the 29th of September, 
1399, and on that; day Eichard received in his prison a deputation, 
to whom he handed over the crown and the other insignia of royalty. 
Not satisfied with the delivery of the sceptre as a proof of the king's 
abdication, a wish was expressed to have it in writing, and he signed, 
as well as resigned, without a murmur. His enemies had, in fact, 
detei'mined on his downfall, and they seemed anxious to be prepared 
at all points for dragging the throne from under him. In order to 
make assurance doubly or trebly sure, an act of accusation against 
him was brought before Parliament on the following clay, when 
Eichard's conduct was complained of in thirty-three, or as some 
authorities have it, thirty-five * separate articles. 

There is no doubt that Eichard had behaved badly enough, but the 
articles, taking the definite and indefinite together, attributed to him 
a great deal more than he had really been guilty of. His punishment 
having taken place before his trial, it was of course necessarj^, for the 
sake of making matters square, that the offence should be made to 
meet the penalty. Had he been tried first and judged afterwards, a 
different course might have been taken, but as he had already been 
deposed, it was desirable — if only for the look of the thing — that he 
should be charged with something which would have warranted the 
Parliament in passing upon him a sentence of deposition. Upwards 
of thirty articles were therefore drawn up, for the great fact that in 
laying it on thick some is almost sure to stick, was evidently well 
known to our ancestors. He was charged with spending the revenues 
of the crown improperly, and choosing bad ministers, though he 
might have replied that bad had been the best, and that he and 
Hobson were, with reference to choice, in about the same predica- 
ment. He was accused, also, of making war upon the Duke of 
Gloucester, as well as on the Earls of Lancaster and Chester, to 
which he might have responded that they began it, and that it was 
only in his own defence he had treated them as enemies. It was 
alleged against him, also, that he had borrowed money and never 
paid it back again ; but surely this has always been a somewhat 
common offence, and one which the aristocracy should be the last 
persons in the world to treat with severity. In one article he was 
charged with not having changed the sheriffs often enough, and, as if 
to allow him no chance of escape, another article imputed to him 
that he had changed the sheriffs too frequently. Some of the counts 
in the indictment were utterly frivolous, and the twenty-third stated 
that he had taken the crown jewels to Ireland, as if he could not 
legally have clone what he pleased with his own trinket-box. 

It must be presumed that Eichard allowed judgment to go by 
default, for all the accusations were declared to be proved against 

* The Pictorial History of England, which is generally very accurate, mentions 
thirty-three articles. Rapin sets out &■*> substance of thirty-one of the articles, and 
i'.dda that Ihcre were four others. 



204 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

him. If he had been assisted by a special pleader, he might have 
beaten his accusers hollow on demurrer, for many of the counts in 
the declaration were, in legal phraseology, utterly incapable of holding 
water.* Notwithstanding the weakness of the articles, they were not 
attacked by any one in Parliament except the Bishop of Carlisle, who, 
in a miserable minority of one, formed the entire party of his sove- 
reign. The venerable prelate, in a powerful speech, talked of Eichard's 
tyranny, including his murder of Gloucester, as mere'youthful indis- 
cretion ; and described his excessive use of the most arbitrary power, 
as the exuberance of gaiety. The bishop's freedom of speech was 
fatal to his freedom of person ; for he was instantly ordered into 
custody by the Duke of Lancaster. No one followed on the same side 
as the prelate, whose removal to prison had the effect of checking any 
tendency to debate, and the articles were, of course, agreed to with- 
out a division. Sentence of deposition was accordingly passed on the 
king, who had been already deposed, and the people of England 
revoked all the oaths and homage they had sworn to their sovereign. 
Such, indeed, was the determination of his subjects to overturn their 
king, that his deposition was not unlike the practical joke of drawing 
the throne literally from under him. They knew he had not a leg to 
stand upon, and they seemed determined that he should not have a 
seat to sit down upon ; for even established forms were overturned 
in order to precipitate his downfall. 

What became of Eichard after his having been deposed is a point 
upon which historians have differed ; but the favourite belief is that 
he was cut off with an axe by one of his gaolers at Pomfret Castle, 
where he was kept in custody. Some are of opinion that he was 
starved, and died rather from want of a chop than by one having 
been administered. Mr. Tytler believes that the unfortunate ex- 
monarch escaped to Scotland, where he resided for twenty years; but 
the story is doubtful, for even in Scotland it is impossible to live upon 
nothing, which would have been the income of Eichard after his 
exclusion from the royal dignity. 

When we come to weigh this sovereign in the scale, we can scarcely 
allow him to pass without noticing his deficiency. He seems to have 
had originally a due amount of sterling metal, but the warmth of 
adulation melted away much of the precious ore, as a sovereign is 
frequently diminished in value by sweating. To this deteriorating 
influence may be added that of the clipping process, to which he was 
subjected by his enemies, who were bent on curtailing his power. He 
had by nature a noble and generous disposition, which might have 
made him an excellent monarch. Butourbusinessiswithwhat hereally 
was, and not with what he might have been. He was alternately 
cowardly and tyrannical, in conformity with the general rule— applic- 
able even to boys at school — that it is the most contemptible sneak 
towards the stronger who is towards the weaker the fiercest bully. 
Wholesome resistance tames him down into the sneak again, and in 

* Mackintosh, who keeps the facts always very dry, seems inclined to our opinion 
that the indictment would not have held water. 



CHAP. 



V] 



CHARACTER OF RICHARD. 



205 



pursuance of this ordinary routine, Bichard, from an overbearing 
tyrant, became a crouching poltroon, when his enemies got the upper 
hand of him. 

It was during this reign that the authority of the pope was vigor- 
ously disputed in England, chiefly at the instigation of John Wick- 
liffe, who denied many of the doctrines of the Church of Borne, and pro- 
tested against its supremacy. Its influence was, moreover, weakened 
by its being in some sort " a house divided." Avignon had been for 
some time the papal residence, but the Italian cardinals having per- 
suaded the pontiff to return to Borne, the French cardinals set up a 




A Practical Joke. Deposition of Richard the Second. 

sort of opposition pope, who continued to live at Avignon. Urban 
did the honours with great urbanity in the Eternal City, while Clement 
carried on the papal business at the old establishment in France, and 
Europe became divided between the Clementines and Urbanists. 

These two sects of Christians continued to denounce each other to 
eternal perdition for some years, and their trial of strength seemed to 
consist chiefly in a competition as to which could execrate the other 
with the greatest bitterness. This dissension was no doubt favourable 
to the views of Wickliffe, who, like other great reformers, renounced 
in his old age the liberal doctrines by which he had obtained his early 
popularity. 

We have alluded in the course of this chapter to a combat which 
was about to take place between the Earls of Hereford and Norfolk, 



206 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK III. 

in pursuance of the practice of Wager of Battle, which was in those 
days prevalent. It may seem unjust and ridiculous to the present 
generation, that the strongest arm or stoutest spear should have 
settled a legal difference, but even in our own times it is frequently 
the longest purse which determines the issue of a law-suit. The only 
difference is that litigants formerly knocked about each other's persons, 
instead of making their assaults upon each other's pockets, and the 
legal phrase, that "so-and-so is not worth powder and shot," pre- 
serves the allegory'of a combat, to which an action-at-law may be 
compared w r ith the utmost propriety. There has always been some- 
thing chivalric in entering upon the perilous enterprise of litigation, 
and we are not surprised that the forensic champions of England 
should have been originally an order of Knights Templars. The only 
military title which is still left to the legal corps is that of Sergeant, 
and the black patch in the centre of their heads is perhaps worn in 
memory of some wound received by an early member of their order 
in the days of Wager of Battle. The sword of justice may also be 
regarded as emblematical of the hard fight that is frequently required 
on the part of those who seek to have justice done to them by the 
laws of their country. 

Contemporaneously with the Wager of Battle, there was introduced 
dining the reign of Henry the Second a sort of option, by which 
suitors who were averse to single combat might support their rights 
by the oaths of twelve men of the vicinage. Thus it was possible for 
those who were afraid of hard hitting to have recourse to hard 
swearing, if they could get twelve neighbours to take the oath that 
might have been required. These persons were called the Grand 
Assize, and formed the jurors — a word, as everybody knows, derived 
from the Latin juro, to swear — but the duty has since been transferred 
from the jury to the witnesses, who not unfrequently swear quite as 
hard as the most unscrupulous of our ancestors. 

We have seen that there were very few improvements in the reign 
of Richard the Second ; but we think we may justly say of the 
sovereign, that though he did no good to his country, yet, in the 
well-known words of a contemporary writer, " He would if he couid, 
but he couldn't." 



CHAP. VI. 1 DOMESTIC HABITS OF THE EARLY BRITONS. 



207 



CHAPTEK THE SIXTH. 



ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITION OF THE TEOrLE. 




EFOEE entering on the fourth book 
of our history, we may perhaps be 
allowed to pause, for the purpose 
of taking a retrospective glance at 
the condition, customs, candle- 
sticks, sports, pastimes, pitchers, 
mugs, jugs and manners of the 
people. It is curious to trace the 
progress of art, from the coarse 
pipkin of the early Briton to the 
highly respectable tankard* found 
in the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey, 
which proves the teeth of the 
monks to have been decidedly 
liquorish. We must not, however, 
plunge prematurely into the pot of 
a more polished era : but we must 
go regularly back to the earthen- 
ware of our earliest ancestors. 
The furniture of the Britons was substantial rather than elegant. A 
round block of wood formed their easiest chair, which, we need 
hardly say, was easier to make than to sit upon. The earth served 
the purpose of a bed, not only for the parsley but for the people ; 
and in winter they made fires on the floor, till the Bomans, who 
brought slavery in one hand, gave the brasier with the other. Thus 
did even subjugation tend to civilisation, and the very chains of the 
conqueror contained links for the enlightenment of the conquered. 

The diet of the Britons was as poor as their apartments, and con- 
sisted chiefly of wild berries, wild boars, and bisons. We have no 
record of their cookery, and it is doubtful whether they cooked at all, 
though some antiquarians have endeavoured to find evidence of a 
stew, a roast or a curry, and have ended after all in making a mere 
hash of it. In clothes the Britons were by no means straight-laced, 
though their intercourse with the Gauls was of inexpressible advan- 
tage to them, for it introduced the use of Braccae, or trousers made 
of fine wool woven in stripes or chequers. f 

Of the domestic habits of the early tenants of our isle very little is 
known, and we regret to say there can be little doubt they might 
most of them have been indicted for polygamy had they lived under 

* The tankard has no name distinctly bitten into it. 

t It is probable that we get out our own word braces from the Braccae of our 

forefathers. 



208 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK 111, 

our present system of laws, for a plurality of wives was in those days 
nothing singular. 

Their mode of bringing up children is wrapt in obscurity, but the 
treatment, if we are to believe a story told by Salinus,* was rather 
less tender than vigorous ; for the first morsel of food was put into 
the infant's mouth on the point of his father's sword, with the hope 
that the child would turn out as sharp a blade as his parent. The Saxons 
brought very material improvements to the mode of living in our island, 
though we cannot compliment them on the comfort of all their uphol- 
stery. Their chairs were a good deal like our camp-stools, without the 
material which forms the seat ; for the Anglo-Saxons were satisfied to 
sit in the angle formed by the junction of the legs of the article alluded to. 

The drinking-cups in use at this period began to be very elaborate, 
and were made of gold or silver, while glass was a luxury unknown, 
though the Venerable Bede, who had a good deal of glass in his 
family, mentions lamps and vessels of that material. The Anglo- 
Saxons had beds and bolsters ; but from illustrations we have seen in 
the Cotton MS., we think that if, as they made their beds, so they 
were obliged to lie, our ancestors could not have slept very pleasantly. 
Some of the Saxon bedsteads were sexagonal boxes, into which 
it was impossible to get, without folding one's self up into the form of 
an S ; and another specimen is in the shape of an inverted cocked 
hat, somewhat smaller than the person by whom it is occupied. 
Nothing but a sort of human half-moon could have found accom- 
modation in this semilunar cradle, in which to have been "cribbed, 
cabined, and confined," could not have been very agreeable. 

Costume could scarcely be considered to have commenced before 
the Anglo-Saxon period, for the Britons persevered in a style of un- 
dress which was barely respectable. It is therefore most refreshing 
to find our countrymen at last with stockings to their feet and shirts 
to their backs, in which improved case they are to be met with in the 
Anglo-Saxon period. The shoe also stands boldly forward at about 
the same time, and shows an indication of that polish which was 
eventually to take a permanent footing. Amid the many irons that 
civilisation had in the fire at this date, are the curling-irons for ladies' 
hair, which began to take a favourable turn during the Anglo-Saxon 
period. The armour worn by the military part of the population was 
very substantial, consisting chiefly of scales, which gave weight to the 
soldiery, and often turned the balance in their favour. This species 
of defence was, however, too expensive for the common men, who 
generally wore a linen thorax or " dickey," with which they offered a 
bold front to the enemy. 

It would be exceedingly difficult to give an accurate account of 
An^lo-Saxon life, for there are no materials in existence out of which 
a statement could be framed ; and though some historians do not 
object to have " their own materials made up," we should be ashamed 
to have recourse to this species of literary tailoring. We think it 
better to cut our coat according to our cloth ; and we had rather 

* Pictorial History of England, vol i., book i., chap, vi., p. 129. 



CHAP. VI.] DOMESTIC HABITS OF THE EARLY BRITONS. 



209 



being 




figure in the sparest Spencer of fact, than assume the bioadest and 
amplest cloak, if it were made of a yarn spun from the dark web of 
ambiguity. What we say, we know, and what we are ignorant of, 
we know much better than to talk about. 

The Anglo-Saxon husbandman was little better than a serf who 
was paid for his labour by the landowner ; but the former furnished 
the base, without which there would 
have been no locus standi for the 
latter's capital. It was customary in 
those days to encourage the peasantry 
by prizes, which did not consist of 
a coat for a faithful servitude of 
nearly a life, but a grant of a piece 
of the land to which the labourer had 
given increased value by his industry. 
The proprietors of the soil had not 
yet learned the wisdom of trying 
how much a brute could be made to 
eat, and how little a human 
could exist upon. 

With reference to the domestic 
habits of the period, it has been 
clearly ascertained that people of 
substance took four meals a day, 
and as they took meat at every one, 
their substance can be no matter 
of astonishment. The Britons had not been in the habit of dressing 
their food, which is not surprising, for they scarcely dressed them- 
selves ; but the Anglo-Saxons were not so fond of the raw material. 
With them the pleasures of the table were carried to excess, and 
drinking went to such an extent, that every monk was prohibited 
from taking any more when his eyes were disturbed, and his tongue 
began to stammer. The misfortune, however, was, that as all who 
were present at a banquet, generally began to experience simul- 
taneously a disturbance of the eye and a stammering of the tongue, 
no one noticed it in his neighbour, and the orgies were often continued 
until the stammering ended in silence, and the optical derangement 
finished by the closing of the organs of vision. 

The chase was a popular amusement with the Anglo-Saxons, but 
it does not seem to have been pursued with much spirit, if we are to 
believe an illustration from the Cotton MS.* of the practice of boar- 
hunting. Two men and one dog are seen hunting four boars, who 
are walking leisurely two and two, while the hound and the hunters are 
hanging back, as if afraid to follow their prey too closely. In another 
picture, from the Harleian MS., seven men are seen huddled together 
on horseback, as if they had all fainted at the sight of a hawk, who 
flaps his w T ings insolently in their faces. Nothing indeed can be more 
pusillanimous than the sports of the Anglo-Saxons as shown in the 



Anglo-Saxon Husbandman. 



Jiuius, A. 7. 



210 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [iiOOK 111. 

illustrations of the period. The only wonder is, that the animals 
hunted did not turn suddenly round and make sport of the sportsmen. 

The condition of the great body of the people was that of agricultural 
labourers, who, it is said, were nearly as valuable to their employers 
or owners as the cattle, and were taken care of accordingly. In this 
respect they had an advantage over the cultivators of the soil in our 
own time, who remain half unfed, while pigs, sheep, and oxen, are 
made too much of by constant cramming.' 

The Normans added little to the stock of English furniture, for we 
have looked through our statistical tables and find nothing that would 
furnish an extra leaf to our history. It is, however, about this time 
that we find the first instance of a cradle made to rock, an arrange- 
ment founded on the deepest philosophy ; for by the rocking move- 
ment the infant is prepared for the upsand downs of life he will soon 
have to bear up against. 

The reign of John introduces us to the first saltcellar on record, 
though, by the way, the first vinegar cruet is of even earlier date, for 
it is contemporary with the sour-tempered Eleanor, who is reported 
to have played a fearful game at bowls with the unfortunate Eosamond. 

When Fashion first came to prevail in dress, Taste had not yet 
arrived, and the effect was truly ridiculous. It does not follow, 
however, that if Fashion and Taste had existed together, they would 
have managed to agree ; for although there is often a happy union 
between the two, they very frequently remain at variance for con- 
siderable periods. Fashion being the stronger, usually obtains the 
ascendency in the first instance ; but Taste ultimately prevails over 
her wayward rival. In nothing so much as in shoes, have the freaks 
of Fashion been exemplified. She has often taken the feet in hand, 
and in a double sense subjugated the understanding of her votaries. 
In the days of Henry the First shoes were worn in a long peak, or 
curling like a ram's horn, and stuffed with tow, as if the natural toe 
was not sufficient for all reasonable purposes. The rage for long 
hair was so excessive that councils* were held on the subject, and 
the state of the crops was considered with much anxiety. The clergy 
produced scissors at the end of the service to cut the hair of the 
congregation ; and it is said of Serlo d'Abon, the Bishop of Secz, 
that he, on Easter Day, 1105, cut every one of the locks off Henry 
the First's knowledge-box. 

We have hinted at the out-of-door amusements of the people, but 
those pursued within doors may deserve some passing notice. The 
juggler, the buffoon, and the tumbler were greatly in request, and wo 
see in these persons the germ of the wizards, the Eamo Samees, the 
clowns, with their "Here we ares," and the various families of India- 
rubber incredibles, Mackintosh marvels, or Kensington untrustables, 
that have since become in turns the idols of an enlightened British 
public. That there is nothing new under the sun, nor in the stars — 
at least those belonging to the drama — is obvious enough to anyone 
who will examine the records of the past, which contain all that are 

* At Limoges, in 1031, by Pope Gregory the Seventh in 1073, and at Rouen in 1095. 



CHAP. VI.] DOMESTIC HABITS OF THE EARLY BRITONS. 



211 



declared to be the novelties of the present. Learned monkeys, 
highly-trained horses, and — to go a little further back — terrific combats, 
or sword dances, in which deadly foes go through mortal conflicts in 
a pas de deux, are all as old as the hills, the dales, the vales, the 
mountains, and the fountains. Even the reading-easel — for those 
who wish to read easily — which was advertised but yesterday, and 
patented the other day, was a luxury in use as early as the fourteenth 
century. Even Polka jackets, imported from Cracow in Poland, were 
"very much worn," and, for what we know, the Polka itself may 
have been danced in all its pristine purity. In head-dresses we have 
seen nothing very elegant, for, during Richard the Second's reign, 
a yard or two of cloth, cut into no regular pattern, formed a bonnet 
or hood for a lady, while an arrangement in fur very like a muff, 
constituted the hat of a gentleman. 

Out-of-door sports were much in favour during the fourteenth century, 
and the priesthood were so much addicted to the pleasures of the chase, 




Fox-hunting Bishop of the Period. 



that a clergyman was prohibited from keeping a dog for hunting 
unless he had a benefice of at least ten pounds per annum. The fox- 
hunting parson is therefore a character as old as the days of Richard 
the Second, in whose reign the Bishop of Ely was remarkable for 
activity in the field, where the right reverend prelate could take a 



219 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK ill 

difficult fence with the youngest and best of them. He was par- 
ticularly active in hunting cbe wolf, and he often said jestingly, that 
the interests of his flock prompted him to pursue its most formidable 
enemy. 

We have seen what our ancestors were in their habits, pleasures, 
and pursuits, none of which differed very materially from tbose that 
the people of the present generation are or have been in the habit of 
following. As the child is father of the man, the infancy of a country 
is the parent of its maturity. Reproduction is, after all, the nearest 
approach we can make to novelty, and though in the drama of life 
11 each man in his time plays many parts," there is scarcely one of 
vvhich he can be called the original representative. 



HOOK IV 
THE PERIOD tfK3M the accession of henry the fourth to the end 

OF THE REIGN OF RICHARD THE THIRD, A.D. 1399—1485. 



CHAPTER THE FIEST. 



HENRY THE FOURTH, SURNAMED BOLIXGBROKE. 



HE wily Henry bad now got the whip 
hand of his enemies, and had grasped 
the reins of government. He ascended 
the throne on the 30th of September, 
1399, and began to avail himself at 
once of the patronage at his disposal 
by filling up, as fast as he could, all 
vacant offices. His pretext for this 
speed was to prevent justice from being 
delayed, to the grievance of his people ; 
and by pretending there was no time 
to elect a new Parliament, he continued 
the old one, which was in a state of 
utter subservience to his own purposes. 
At the meeting of the Legislative As- 
sembly, which took place on the 6th of 
October, Thomas Arundel, the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury, made "the 
speech of the day," which was a power- 
ful panegyric on the new sovereign. 
There is no doubt that the whole 
oration was a paid-for puff, of which the primacy was the price, for 
the prelate had been restored by Henry to the archiepiscopacy, out 
of which Richard had hurried him. 

The new candidate for the crown gave three reasons for claiming 
it ; but when a person gives three reasons for anything, it is probable 
they are all bad, for if one were good the other two would be, of 
course, superfluous. He declared his triple right to be founded, first 
on conquest, which was the right of the ruffian who, having knocked 
a man on the head, steals his purse and runs off with it; secondly, 
from being the heir, which he was not ; and thirdly, from the crown 
having been resigned to him, which it certainly had been, when the 
resigning party was under duress, and when his acts were not legally 

213 




214 tJOittC IIISTOKY OF ENCiLAND. [llOOU IV. 

binding. Upon these claims he asked the opinion of Parliament, 
which, having been cleverly packed by Arundel and his whippers-in, 
of course pronounced unanimously in Henry's favour. Upon this he 
vaulted nimbly on to the steps of the throne, and, pausing before he 
took his seat, he cried out in a loud voice, " Do you mean what you 
say?" when the claqueurs raised such a round of applause, that, 
whispering to one of his supporters " It's all right," he flung himself 
on to the regal ottoman. Another round of applause from the privi- 
leged orders secured the success of the farce, and the usual puffing 
announcements appeared in due course, intimating the unanimous 
approbation of a house crowded to suffocation. This had been cer- 
tainly the case, for the packing was so complete as to stifle every 
breath of free discussion. 

A week's adjournment took place, to prepare for the coronation, 
which came off on the 13th of October in a style of splendour which 
Froissart has painted gorgeously with his six-pound brush, and which 
we will attempt to pick out with our own slender camel's-hair. On 
the Saturday before the coronation, forty-six squires, who were to be 
made knights, took each a bath, and had. in fact, a regular good 
Saturday night's wash, so that they might be nice and clean to receive 
the honour designed for them. On Sunday morning, after church, 
they were knighted by the king, who gave them all new coats, a pi'oof 
that their wardrobes could not have been in a very flourishing con- 
dition. After dinner, his majesty returned to Westminster, bai*e- 
headed, with nothing on, according to Froissart,* but a pair of gaiters 
and a German jacket. Tne streets of London were decorated with 
tapestry as he passed, and there were nine fountains in Cheapside 
running with white and red wine, though we think our informant has 
been drawing rather copiously upon his own imagination for the 
generous liquor. The cavalcade comprised, according to the same 
authority, six thousand hcrse ; but again we are of opinion that 
Froissart must have found some mare's nest from which to supply a 
stud of such wondrous magnitude. The king took a bath on the same 
night, in order, perhaps, to wash out the port wine stains that might 
have fallen upon him while passing the fountains. " Call me early, 
if you're waking," were the king's last words to his valet, and in the 
morning the coronation procession started for the Abbey of West- 
minster. Henry walked under a blue silk canopy supported on silver 
staves, with golden bells at each corner, and carried by four burgesses 
of Dover, who claimed it r.s their right, for the loyalty of the Dover 
people was in those days inspired only by the hope of a perquisite. 
The king might have got wet through to the skin before they would 
have held a canopy over him, had it not been for the value of the 
silver staves and golden bells, which became their property for the 
trouble of porterage. On each side were the sword of Mercy and 
the sword of Justice, though these articles must have been more 
for ornament than for use in those days of regal cruelty and 
oppression. 

* Vol. ii., p. 099, edition 1842. 




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fa 
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CD 



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fi 
o 

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CHAP. I.] CORONATION OF HENRY THE FOURTH. 217 

At nine o'clock the king entered the Abbey, in the middle of which 
a platform, covered with scarlet cloth, had been erected ; so that the 
proceedings might be visible from all corners of the Abbey. He seated 
himself on the throne, and was looking remarkably well, being in 
full regal costume, with the exception of the crown, which the Arch- 
bishop of Canterbury proposed to invest him with. The people, on 
being asked whether the ceremony should be performed, of course 
shouted " Aye," for they had come to see a coronation and were not 
likely to deprive themselves of the spectacle by becoming, at the last 
moment, hypercritical of the new king's merits. We cannot say we 
positively know there was no " No," but the " Ayes " unquestionably 
had it ; and Henry was at once taken off the throne to be stripped to 
his shirt, which, in the middle of the month of October, could not 
have been very agreeable treatment. After saturating him in oil, 
they put upon his head a bonnet, and then proceeded to dress him up 
as a priest, adding a pair of spurs and the sword of justice. While 
his majesty was in this motley costume, the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
clutching off the bonnet from the royal head, placed upon it the crown 
of Saint Edward. Henry was not sorry when these harassing cere- 
monies were at an end, and having left the Abbey to dress, returned 
to the Hall to dinner. Wine continued to play, like ginger- beer, 
from the fountain ; but the jets were of the same paltry description 
as that which throws up about a pint a day in the Temple. We 
confess that we are extremely sceptical in reference to all allegations 
of wine having been laid on in the public streets, particularly in those 
days, when there were neither turncocks to turn it on, nor pipes 
through which to carry it. Even with our present admirable system 
of waterworks, we should be astonished at an arrangement that 
would allow us to draw our wine from the wood in the pavement of 
Cheapside, or take it fresh from the pipe as it rolled with all its might 
through the main of the New Eiver. Whether the liquid could be 
really laid on may be doubtful, but that it would not be worth drinking 
cannot admit of a question. Under the most favourable circumstances, 
our metropolitan fountains could only be made to run with that 
negative stuff to which the name of negus has been most appropriately 
given. Let us, however, resume our account of the ceremonial, from 
which, with our heads full of the wine sprinkled gratuitously over the 
people, we have been led to deviate. 

Dinner was served for the coronation party in excellent style, but 
before it was half over it was varied by an entree of the most extra- 
ordinary and novel character. It was after the second course that 
a courser came prancing in, with a knight of the name of Dymock 
mounted on the top of the animal. The expression of Henry's 
astonished countenance gave an extra plat, in the shape of calf's head 
surprised, at the top of the royal table. The wonder of Henry was 
somewhat abated when the knight put into the royal hand a written 
offer to fight any knight or gentleman who would maintain that the 
new king was not a lawful sovereign. The challenge was read six 
times over, but nobody came forward to accept it ; and indeed it was 
nearly impossible, for care had been taken to exclude all persons 



219 



COMIC HISTORY OF EtfatANt). 



[POOK IV. 



likely to pi'ove troublesome, as it was very desirable on the occasion 
of a coronation to keep the thing respectable. The champion was 
then presented with " something to drink," in a golden goblet, and 
pocketed the jwculnm as a perquisite. 




Entrance of Dymock the Champion, at the Coronation Banqnet. 

Thus passed off the coronation of Henry the Fourth, which is still 
further remarkable for a story told about the oil used in anointing 
the head of the new monarch. This precious precursor of all the 
multitudinous mixtures to which ingenuity and gullibility have since 
given their heads, was contained in a flask said to have been pre- 
sented by a good hermit to Henry Duke of Lancaster, the grandson of 
Henry the Third, who gave it to somebody else, until it came, unspilt, 
into the possession of Henry of Bolingbroke. We confess we reject 
the oil, with which our critical acidity refuses to coalesce, and we 
would almost as soon believe the assertion that it was a flask of salad 
oil sent from the Holy Land by the famous Saladin. 



CRAP, I.] PARLIAMENT KESUMES ITS SITTINGS. 219 

The day after the ceremony, or as soon after as the disarrangement 
caused by the preparations for the coronation could be set to rights, 
the Parliament resumed its sittings. The terrible turncoatery of the 
last few years gave rise to fearful recriminations in the House of Lords, 
and the terms "liar" and "traitor" flew from every corner of the 
building. At one time, forty gauntlets were thrown on the floor at 
the same moment, as pledges of battle, but there was as little of the 
for titer in re as of the suaviter in modo, and the gloves not being picked 
up became, of course, the perquisites of the Parliamentary charwoman. 
Some wholesome acts were passed during the session, but the chief 
object of the new king was to plant himself firmly on the throne of 
England. A slip from the parent trunk was grafted on to the Duke- 
dom of Cornwall, and the Principality of Wales, to both of which 
Henry's eldest son was nominated. No act of settlement of the crown 
was introduced, for his majesty wisely thought, that it would only 
have proclaimed the weakness of his title had he made any attempt 
to bolster it. Had the question of legitimacy been tried, the young 
Earl of March would have turned out to be many steps nearer the 
throne than Henry, who, however, laughed at his claims, and the 
old saying of " as mad as a March hare," was quoted by a parasite, to 
prove the insanity of regarding March as a fit heir to the throne of 
England. Besides, the little fellow was a mere child, and was, of 
course, a minor consideration in a country which had a natural dread 
of a long regal minority. " A boy of eight or nine," said one of the 
philosophers of the day, "cannot sit upon the throne, without 
bringing the kingdom into a state of sixes and sevens." It w-as, 
however, to strengthen the presumed legitimacy of his family that 
Henry got his son created Prince of Wales, and though the circum- 
stance is said to have weighed but as a feather in the scales, 
the Prince of Wales's feathers must always go for something in 
the balance. 

Eichard, who was still in custody, was kept continually moving 
about from castle to castle, like a spring van in town or country, until 
a few of the lords devised the plan of murdering Henry and restoring 
the late king, just by way of novelty. A tournament was got up, to 
which the king was politely asked, and the words, " Tilting at two. 
An answer will oblige," might be found in the corner of the invitation 
card. Henry " had much pleasure in accepting " the proposal to join 
the jousting party, but having received an intimation from the Earl 
of Portland, his cousin and one of the conspirators, his majesty did 
not attend the soiree. The intention was to have hustled him and 
killed him on the spot, but he did not come, and the jousting was, of 
necessity, carried on for some time by the traitors at the expense of 
each other. At length, as the day wore on, they began to think it 
exceedingly odd that Henry had not arrived, when suspecting they 
had been betrayed, they determined to make for Windsor, where they 
knew the king had been passing his Christmas holidays. He had, 
however, received timely warning, and had left for London, so that 
the conspirators were utterly baffled. 

On their arrival at Windsor, they hastened to surprise the Castle ; 



220 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOfc IV. 

but the greatest surprise was for themselves, when they heard of the 
escape of their intended victim. Henry had rushed up to town to 
issue writs against every one of the traitors, who ran away in all 
directions before he had time to return to Windsor. Some of them 
attempted to proclaim King Itichard in every town they passed 
through ; but they might as well have proclaimed Old King Cole, or any 
other merry old soul, for they only got laughed at and slaughtered 
by the inhabitants. Poor Kichard was also a sufferer by his injudi- 
cious friends, for it was agreed that he would become an intolerable 
nuisance if he should serve as a point for the rebels to rally round. 
It was therefore thought advisable to have him abated, and according 
to the chroniclers of the day, who confess they know nothing about 
it, he was either starved or murdered. The condition of Richard's 
young wife, Isabella, a girl of eleven, the daughter of King Charles of 
France, was exceedingly deplorable. She had brought a large fortune 
to her husband, and upon his death, her father wished her to be 
restored to the bosom, and her money to the pockets, of her family. 
Theyounglady was promised byan eaiiyboat; but Charlesinsisted that 
she should be allowed to bring her dowry back with her. Henry, 
who had spent at least half of it, declined this proposal, and her papa, 
who had an eye to the cash, would not receive her without, so that 
she really seemed on the point of becoming a shuttlecock tossed 
between two immense battledores in the shape of Dover and Calais. 
Every kind of paltry excuse was set up to avoid payment of the 
demand, and the English pretended to find upon their books an old 
claim for the ransom of the French King, John, who had been taken 
by Edward the Third, and had never been duly settled for. This 
plea of set-off was overruled on demurrer by the French, who kept 
reiterating their applications for Richard's widow and her dowry, 
wit?h a threat of ulterior proceedings if the demand was not speedily 
complied with. At length Henry agreed to restore her like a toad, "with 
all her precious jewels in her head." Her old father received her 
with the exclamation of " Oh, you duck of diamonds," in allusion, no 
doubt, to the valuable brilliants she carried about her ; and there is 
every reason to believe that had her teeth been literally pearls, the 
king would have made copious extracts from the choice collection. 

Henry now began to consider the best means for making himself 
popular, and after thinking it well over he came to the conclusion that 
a war would be a nice little excitement, of which he might reap the 
benefit. Upon looking about him for an eligible object of attack, 
Scotland seemed to be the most inviting; for Robert, the actual king, 
was old and helpless, while his eldest son David, Earl of Rothsay, 
was a drunken, dissipated, reckless, but rather clever personage. He 
had quarrelled with his uncle the Duke of Albey, who had acted as 
regent during the illness of the king, and who was himself a remorse- 
less ruffian ; so that the Scotch royal family consisted of a dotard, a 
drunkard, and a bully. Henry, though he wanted a war, wished to 
get it without paying for it, to prevent the odium he might incur by 
taxing the people. He therefore tried the old plan of feudal service, 
by calling upon all persons enjoying fees or pensions to join him in 



CHAP. I.] ROBERT SUMMONED BY HENRY TO EDINBURGH. 2-51 

arms at York, under pain of forfeiture. The lay lords were ordered 
to come at their own charge with their retainers, but the result 
afforded a strong proof of the fact that a thing is never worth having 
if it is not worth paying for. Those who came in arms were fearfully 
out at elbows ; and amid the owners of fees with their retainers, was 
perhaps some unhappy Templar, with his one fee and one retainer, 
urged by an ordinary motion of course, to appear in the great cause of 
the king versus Bruce, Eothsay and others. 

Henry began boldly with a writ of summons directed to Eobert, 
greeting, and. ordering him to come to Edinburgh to make submission. 
The Earl of Eothsay entered an appearance for his father ; a declara- 
tion of war ensued on Henry's part, when Eothsay, without putting 
in a plea, took issue at once, and threw himself upon the country. 
Henry, not expecting the action to come off so speedily, was but ill 
prepared, and after making a vain attempt at a fight — in the course 
of which he tried all his earls and failed on every count — he retired 
from the contest. He endeavoured, nevertheless, to make the best 
of it, and observed pleasantly to his followers, "Well, gentlemen, I 
told you we were sure to beat, and so we will yet. Come, let us beat 
a retreat ; that is better than not beating anything." Thus ended, in 
a pitiable and most humiliating pun, a campaign commenced in pride, 
confidence, and insolence. 

While Henry was fooling away his time and resources in the 
North, a little matter in the West was growing into a very formidable 
insurrection. Owen Glendower, esquire, a Welsh gentleman " learned 
in the law," who had held a place in the household of Eichard the 
Second, perhaps as standing counsel, became involved in a dispute 
about some property with Lord Grey de Euthyn. Mr. Glendower 
petitioned the Lords, who rejected his suit, which so irritated him 
that he instantly exchanged the pen for the sword, the forensic gown 
for the coat of mail, and dashing his wig violently on the floor, 
ordered a helmet to fit tbe head and the box hitherto devoted to 
peaceful horse-hair. 

In the course of his legal studies he had learned something of the 
art of making out a title, and he immediately set to work to prove 
himself the lineal descendant of the native Welsh princes. By draw- 
ing upon fact for some portions, and his imagination for the remainder, 
he contrived to get up an excellent draft abstract, which he endorsed 
with the words " Principality op Wales. Grey Euthyn ats self ; " 
and adding the usual formula of "Mr. O. Glendower, to settle and 
advise, 2 Guas. ; Clerk, 2s. 6d. ; " he placed it among his papers. 
The Welsh peasants set him down as a magician at the least, and the 
barrister had no difficulty in placing himself in a little brief authority 
over them. 

Assisted by his clerk the trusty Thomson, Mr. Owen Glendower 
armed himself for the contest upon which he had determined to enter ; 
and the learned gentleman, w r ho bad never used any weapon more 
formidable than a file, upon which he had occasionally impaled a 
declaration, now girded on the sword, and prepared to listen to the 
war-trumpet as the only summons to which he would henceforth pay 



000 





COMIC HISTOliY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV. 



attention. Taking the somewhat professional motto of " deeds not 
■words," he sallied forth, as he boldly declared, for the purpose of 
subjecting all his opponents to special damage. 

He collected a small band, and made an attack on the property of 
( '.icy de Euthyn, for which the king had Mr. Glendower's name pub- 
lished in the next batch of outlaws. Irritated by this indignity, the 
learned gentleman declared himself sovereign of Wales, observing with 
much quaintness, " One may as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, 
and why not for a Welsh rabbit ? " Henry at once marched in pursuitj 




Mr. Owen Glendower armed by his trusty Clerk. 

but the banister was cautious enough to avoid an action, and led his 
antagonist all over the Welsh circuit, by which he continually put off 
the day of trial. Henry, who had a variety of other little matters to 
attend to, was compelled to allow the cause of himself versus Glen- 
dower to stand over to an indefinite period. 

Among the businesses getting into arrear at home, was an absurd 
declaration of war by Walleran of Luxemburgh, the Count of Ligny 
and St. Pol, who had married a sister of the deposed Eichard, and 
was suddenly seized with a fit of fraterno-legal or brotherly-in-lawlv 
affection, and began to talk of avenging his unfortunate relative. In 
spite of the recommendations of his best friends, who all urged him 
" not to make a fool of himself," he insisted on going to sea, where a 
fate a good deal like that of the three wise men of Gotham appeared, 
to threaten him. 



CHAP. I.] BATTLE OF NISBET MOOR. 223 

Conspiracies now sprung up on every side, and a rumour was 
spread, that Bichard was alive in Scotland, and was coming presently 
to England at the head of a large army, to play old Harry with 
Henry's adherents. Never was a cry of "Bogey" more utterly 
futile than this assertion, for Bichard was really dead, though 
it suited a certain party of malcontents to resuscitate him for 
their own purposes. Henry was exceedingly angry at the rumour, 
and every now and then cut off some half-dozen heads, as a punish- 
ment for running about with a false tale, but there was no checking 
the evil. 

At length an army came from Scotland, but Bichard was not with 
it, and the Scotch no longer kept up the delusion, but, like the 
detected impostor who confessed " It is a swindle, and now do your 
worst," they acknowledged the hoax they had been previously prac- 
tising. The Scotch proved mischievous, but impotent ; and Henry 
was not far from the truth when in one of his remonstrances he 
remarked, " You are doing yourselves no good, nor me either." They 
were defeated at Nisbet Moor by the English, under the command of 
a disaffected Scot, the old Earl of March, who was piqued at his 
daughter Elizabeth having been jilted by the Earl of Bothsay, to 
whom she had been affianced. The Earl of Bothsay had made 
another, and let us hope, a better match, so that the action fought at 
Nisbet Moor was, as far as the Earl of March was concerned, in 
reality an action for a breach of promise of marriage. Young Both- 
say had united himself to Miss Mariell Douglas, the daughter of old 
Douglas, who had not only got for his child the husband — that was 
to have been — of Earl March's daughter that was, but had also 
obtained for himself a grant of the estates of the father of Bothsay's 
ex-intended. Douglas, with ten thousand men at his heels, hurried 
to take possession, and they soon carried sword and fire — but we 
believe it was fire without coals — to Newcastle. Having completely 
sacked this important city — but mark ! there were in those days no 
coals to sack — he returned laden with plunder, towards the Tweed, 
for which way he went, was — like Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee — a 
matter of pure indifference. The Duke of Northumberland, aided by 
his son, the persevering Percy, surnamed Hotspur, with the indig- 
nant March, had got an army in the rear, when Douglas, seeing a 
good position between the two forces, called Homildon Hill, was the 
first to take possession of it. Harry Percy was about to charge up 
the hill, when the Earl of March, seizing his bridle, backed him 
cleverly into the ranks, and advised him to begin the battle with his 
archers. The advice was taken ; they shot up the hill, and success 
was the upshot. Every arrow told with terrific effect upon the 
Scotch, who presented a phalanx of targets, and the stalwart troopers 
became at length so perforated with darts, that they looked like so 
many fillets of veal, skewered through and through by the enemy. 
Douglas was wounded in so many places, that he resembled a porcu- 
pine rather than a Scottish chief, and he was taken into custody, 
regularly trussed like a chicken prepared for roasting. Among his 
fellow-prisoners were the Earls of Moray and Angus, who had tried 



224 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

in vain to escape ; but neither did Moiay nor Angus reach their own 
quarters in time to escape the grasp of the enemy. 

The battle of Homildon Hill, which we have thus faintly described, 
was fought on the 14th of September, 1402, while Henry himself was 
much less profitably occupied in hunting up his learned friend, oi 
lather his knowing opponent, Owen Glendower. The lawyer-liko 
cunning of this gentleman carried him triumphantly through all his 
engagements ; and though good cause might have been shown against 
it, yet, by his cleverness and tact in Wales, he was nearly successful 
in getting his rule made absolute. 

Henry's next annoyance was an impertinent letter from a former 
friend and " sworn brother," the Duke of Orleans, uncle of Isabella, 
the widow of the late king, and the acknowledged "female in distress,'' 
whom it was fashionable for the "recognised heroes" of that day to 
talk about avenging. The letter of the Duke of Orleans was a 
mixture of ferocity and facetiousness ; it deplored the inactivity 
prevailing in the military market, and offered to do a little business 
with Henry, either in " lances, battle-axes, swords, or daggers." He 
sneeringly repudiated " bodkins, hooks, points, bearded darts, razors, 
and needles," as if Henry had been in the habit of arming himself with 
the fittings of a work-box or a dressing-case. An answer was returned 
in the same sarcastic strain, and an angry correspondence ensued, in 
which the parties gave each other the lie, offered to meet in single 
combat, and indeed entered into a short but sharp wordy war, which 
was followed by no more serious consequences. 

Northumberland, who had struck for the defence of his country, 
now struck for his wages, which were unsatisfactory, and several 
other patriotic noblemen insisted on more liberal terms for their alle- 
giance. Henry having resisted the extortion, gave, of course, great 
offence to his faithful adherents, who veered, at once, clean round to 
the scale of the king's enemies. In those days the principles of great men 
seemed to go upon a pivot, and Northumberland's swivel was evidently 
in fine working order on the occasion to which we have alluded. 
Scroop, the Archbishop of York, who might well have been called the 
Unscrupulous, advised that Henry should be treated as a wrongful 
heir, and that the young Earl of March should be rallied round, as 
the rightful heir, by the dissatisfied nobles. They sent a retaining 
fee to Owen Glendower, and marked upon his brief " With you the 
Earl of Northumberland and Henry Percy," and appointed a con- 
sultation at an early period. Earl Douglas was released from custody 
without payment of costs, on condition of his leaving the rebels, and. 
0. Glendower, Esquire, married the daughter of his prisoner, Mortimer, 
the young Earl of March's uncle. 

The conspirators having consulted, determined to proceed, and 
though Northumberland himself was kept at home by indisposition, 
Hotspur inarched to meet Glendower. That learned gentleman, who 
had probably not received his " refresher," did not come, but young 
Percy, nevertheless, sent to Henry a written notice of trial. The king 
proposed referring it to arbitration, but the offer was treated with 
contempt ; and he then rejoined that he had no time to waste in 



CHAr. I.] DOUGLAS MADE PRISONER. 225 

writing, but he would, "by dint of sword and fierce battle," prove 
their quarrel was false and feigned, " whereupon," as the lawyers 
have it, " issue was joined." Each army consisted of about fourteen 
thousand men, and on the morning of the 21st of July, 1403, both 
being full of confidence, began sounding their horns or blowing their 
own trumpets. Hotspur and Douglas led the first charge with irresis- 
tible vigour, and one or two gentlemen who had carried their loyalty 
so far as to wear the royal arms as a dodge, while the king fought in 
plain clothes, paid with their lives the penalty of their fidelity. Henry 
of Monmouth, the young Prince of Wales, got several slaps in the 
face, and once or twice exclaimed, in the Norman-French of the 
period, " Oh, Hon mouth ! " but he nevertheless continued to the last, 
showing his teeth to the enemy. Douglas and Hotspur were not ably 
supported, and the latter was struck by an arrow shot at random, 
while Douglas, losing command over his head, took to his heels, and 
becoming positively flighty in his flight, fell over a precipice. This 
was his downfall, but not his death, for he was picked up and made 
prisoner. Old Percy, who had been absent from ill-health, but had 
now got much better from his illness, was marching to join the 
insurgents with a considerable force, and had paused on the road to 
take his medicine, when he was met by a messenger, who, glancing 
at the physic, exclaimed, " Ah ! my lord, I've got a blacker dose than 
that for you ! " With this, he administered two pills in the shape of 
two separate announcements of the deaths of Hotspur and Worcester, 
the son and brother of the earl, who, bidding " Good morning " to his 
retainers, all of whom he dismissed, shut himself up in the castle of 
Warkworth. The king soon routed him out, when Northumberland, 
like an old sycophant as he was, pretended that Hotspur had acted 
against his advice, for the venerable humbug, though eager enough to 
share in his son's success, was meanly anxious to repudiate him in 
his misfortunes. By this paltry proceeding, Northumberland was 
allowed to get off cheap, and even to win commiseration as the victim 
of the imprudence of his heir, though the fact was that the latter had 
been completely sacrificed to his parent's selfishness. In the year 
1404, the old cry of " Dick's alive " was renewed, and some people 
even went so far as to say that they had recently walked and talked 
with the deposed King Eichard. The rumour ran that he was living 
in Scotland, and one Serle, an old servant, went over to recognise his 
majesty, but found in his place the court jester, who bore some 
resemblance to the unfortunate sovereign. Serle, however, determined 
on playing his cards to the best advantage, and thought it a good 
speculation to play the fool off in place of the king, a trick which was 
for a time successful. The buffoon humoured the joke, which was a 
sorry one for its author, who was executed as a traitor, and it might 
be as well if the same justice were dealt out to similar delinquents in 
the present day, for indifferent j-okes are the madness of few for the 
gain of nobody. 

Henry was now frightfully embarrassed by the quantity of bills 
pouring in upon him for carrying on the war in Wales, and every day 
brought him a fresh account which he had never expected. Even the 

Q 



226 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

musicians made a claim, and the king, running his eye down a long 
list of items, including a drum, a ditto, a ditto, a llute half a day, a 
pandean pipe, et cmtera, et ccetera, exclaimed mournfully to his trea- 
surer, "Alas ! I fear I cannot manage to pay the piper." In fact, the 
claims on account of the war left him no peace, and he proposed 
taking a quantity of the property of the church to settle with his 
creditors. 

This proposition raised a perfect flame amongst the whole body of 
the clergy. The Archbishop of Canterbury instantly took fire, while 
the inferior members of the church were fearfully put out, and cold 
water being thrown on the attempt, it was soon extinguished. Fight- 
ing was still the business that Henry had on hand, for as fast as one 
of his foes was down, another was ready to come on with fresh vigour. 
Old Northumberland could not keep quiet, but Owen Glendower was 
perhaps the most troublesome of all the king's enemies. The rapidity 
of the learned gentleman's motions kept the other side constantly 
employed, for he never hesitated to change the venue, or resort to a 
set-off, when he wished to baffle his antagonists. At length, lack of 
funds, and its customary concomitant, the loss of friends, compelled 
him not only to stay proceedings, but to keep out of the way to avoid 
his heavy responsibilities. He is supposed to have been engaged for 
years in a protracted game at hide and seek, living at the homes of 
his daughters and friends, but disguised always in a shepherd's plaid, 
to prevent the servants from knowing him. "What became of him 
was never known, and, unfortunately for the historian, there were in 
those days no registrars of either births, deaths, or marriages. Some 
say that Owen Glendower ended his days at Mornington, but they 
might as well say Mornington Crescent ; and the place of his inter- 
ment is no less doubtful, for where he was buried is now buried in 
obscurity. 

There is a tradition that his tomb is in the Cathedral of Bangor, but 
this story is of little value to anyone except to the Bangor beadle, 
who makes an occasional sixpence by calling the attention of visitors 
to a spot which he, and Common Bumour, between them, have digni- 
fied with the title of the tomb of Owen Glendower. We all know 7 the 
character which Common Bumour bears for an habitual violation of 
truth ; and we are afraid that if she is no better than she should be, 
the Bangor beadle is not so good as he ought to be. 

Henry was fortunate in overcoming his enemies, but his treatment 
of them was frequently cruel in the extreme. Boor old Bobert, the 
nominal king of Scotland, was driven about from abbey to abbey, but 
had no sooner got comfortably settled in one, than a cry of " Here he 
is ! we've got him ! " drove him to take refuge in another. At last he 
hid himself in the Isle of Bute, where he is supposed to have remained 
to the close of his existence, and it is certain that he never addressed 
to the Isle of Bute the celebrated apostrophe, " Isle of Beauty, Fare 
thee well ! " His eldest son Bothsay was imprisoned in the castle of 
Falkland (March, 1402), into which it is supposed he was pitched with 
a pitcher, containing about a pint of water, and furnished by a crusty 
gaoler, with a piece of crust. Even this miserable diet is said to have 



CHAP. I.] DEATH OF ROBERT. 227 

been very irregularly administered, and was of course insufficient for 
an able-bodied young man like Eothsay. He was treated like a 
pauper under the new Poor-law, and is believed to have died of 
inanition ; for though the chronicles of that day attributed his death 
to starvation, the chronicle of our day prefers a genteeler term. The 
king of Scotland's second son, James, had been shipped by his father 
for France, to be out of the way, when the vessel was seized by the 
crews of some English cruisers. 

Eobert died of grief at the loss of young James, whom he called his 
precious jewel of a gem, and the little fellow, though a prisoner, was 
lodged and boarded in comfort, allowed masters, and instructed in all 
the usual branches of a sound education. 

Constitutional liberty had in previous reigns taken very irregular 
hops, skips, and jumps; but, during the reign of Henry, it began 
taking rapid strides. During the latter part of his life the tranquillity 
of his own country gave him the power to lend out his soldiers to 
fight the battles of others ; but it never paid him, for though there 
was a good deal owing to him, he was unable to get the money. His 
second son, the Duke of Clarence, had landed in Normandy with a 
large army, but finding that he could not get a penny to pay his 
troops, he began to insist on a settlement. He was insultingly told 
that he was not wanted and might take his army back again, but he 
soon brought the people to their senses by a little prompt pillage. 
The matter was arranged, and the Duke of Orleans brought all the 
ready money he could raise as the first instalment to the head- 
quarters of the English. It is doubtful whether the payments were 
regularly kept up, but every possible precaution was taken that bail 
or bills could afford. 

Henry's reign was now drawing to a close, and he became exceed- 
ingly sentimental in the latter years of his existence. Ho had 
discovered the hollo wness of the human heart, together with its 
propensity for wearing a mask, and the keen perception of this per- 
petual fancy-dress ball of the finest feelings, rendered him gloomy, 
solitary, and suspicious. He was also in a wretched state of health, 
for nothing agreed with him, and he agreed with nobody. He 
became jealous of the popularity of his son, whom he declared to be 
everything that was bad, though the after life of the young man gave 
the perfect lie to the paternal libel. Many anecdotes are related of 
the low freaks of Henry and his companions, who seem to have been 
the terror of the police and the people. If we are to believe all that 
is said concerning them, we should look upon the Prince of Wales 
and his associates as the foes to that great engine of civilisation the 
street-door knocker, and the determined enemies'to enlightenment by 
the agency of public lamps. 

Anecdotes are told of their being brought before the Chief Justice 
Gascoigne, the Denman, Pollock, or "Wilde of his day, who took 
cognizance of a case, which would induce either of these learned 
and upright individuals to exclaim to a complainant: "You must not 
come here, sir ; we don't sit here to decide upon the merits of street 
rows." Gascoigne, who was a chief justice and a police magistrate all 

Q— 2 



£SS COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

in one — like an article of furniture intended for both a bedstead and a 
chest of drawers, but offering the accommodation of neither — Gas- 
coigne committed to prison some of the prince's associates. The 
learned judge, setting a precedent that might bo followed with 
advantage in the present day, inflicted imprisonment, instead of a 
line, on those to whom the latter would have been no punishment. 
The Prince of Wales, on hearing of the incarceration of his com- 
panions, rushed into court, demanding a habeas corpus, and drew his 
sword upon the judge when asked for a case in point. Judge Gas- 
coigne ordered the usher to take the prince into custody, and the 
officer of the court having hesitated, young Henry, politely exclaim- 
ing, " I'm your prisoner, sir," surrendered without a murmur. When 
the king heard the anecdote, he became mawkishly sentimental, 
exclaiming, " Happy the monarch to have such a good judge for a 
justice, and happy the father to have a son so ready to yield to legal 
authority." If the latter is really a subject for congratulation, what 
happiness the police reports of each day ought to afford to those 
oarents who have had sons confined in the station-house for intoxica- 
tion, by whom the penalty of five shillings has been paid with alacrity. 
We can fancy the respectable sire of some youth who has formed tho 
subject of a case at Bow Street, and who has submitted to the deci- 
sion of the Bench; we can imagine the parent exclaiming, with 
enthusiasm, " Happy the Englishman to have such a magistrate to 
enforce the law, and such a son to yield obedience to its orders." 

Another anecdote is told of the amiable feeling existing between 
trie sovereign and his heir, which w r e insert without vouching for its 
truth, though it is not by any means improbable. The king was ill in 
bed, and the Prince of Wales was sitting up with him in the tempo- 
rary capacity of nurse. The son, however, seemed to be rather waiting 
for his father's death, than hoping for the prolongation of his life, 
and the king, having gone off into a fit, the prince, instead of calling 
for assistance, or giving any aid himself, heartlessly took the oppor- 
tunity to see how he should look in the crown, which always hung on 
a peg in the royal bed-chamber. Young Henry w r as figuring away 
before a cheval glass, with the regal bauble on his head, and was ex- 
claiming " Just the thing, upon my honour," when the elder Henry, 
happening to recover, sat up in his bed, and saw the conduct of his 
offspring. "Hallo," cried the king, "who gave you leave to put that 
on? I think you might have left it alone till I've done with it!" 
The prince muttered some excuse, which was not long needed, for on 
the 23rd of March, 1413, Henry the Fourth died, in the forty-seventh 
year of his age, and the fourteenth of his reign. The character of Henry 
the Fourth may be told in a few words, and the fewer the better for his 
reputation, inasmuch as it is impossible to furnish him with that passport 
to posterity with which it would give us pleasure to present the whole 
of our English sovereigns. Other historians have puffed him, but 
the only puffing we can promise him is a regular blowing up. He 
was cautious how he gave offence to his subjects, but this was less 
out of regard to their interests than care for his own. He knew that 
the hostility existing towards him among the nobles, on account of 






CHAP. I.] 



CHARACTER OP HENRY THE FOURTH. 



229 



his usurpation, could only be counteracted by obtaining the support 
of the people. He therefore refrained from irritating the latter by 
taxing them heavily for his wars, but he never scrupled to help him- 
self to the goods of the former whenever his exigencies required. The 
only difference between him and some of his predecessors in the 
practice of extortion and robbery, is in the fact that while others 
plundered principally the people, Henry the Fourth thought it better 




Unseemly conduct of Henry, Prince of Wales. 

worth his while to plunder the nobles. Some of our predecessors have 
praised his prudence, which was unquestionably great ; for never was 
a king more cunning in his attempts to preserve the crown he had 
unjustly acquired. He was not wantonly barbarous in the treatment 
of his enemies when he got them into his power, and, in this respect, 
his conduct presents an honourable contrast to that of the sanguinary 
monsters who committed the greatest crimes to surmount the 
smallest obstacles. He did not seek to stop the merest breath of diq 



230 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOE IV, 

affection by the most monstrous murders, nor to rid himself of the 
annoyance of suspicion by incurring the guilt of slaughtering the sus- 
pected. His treatment of his predecessor, Eichard, and one or two 
others, who are yet unaccounted for, and returned " missing " in the 
balance-sheet of history, must always leave a blot, or, rather, a 
shower of blots, throwing a piebald aspecb upon the character of 
Henry. Among the distinguished individuals who shed lustre on a 
reign which derived no brilliance from the sovereign himself, are the 
poets Chaucer and Gower, as well as William Wickham, and Eichard 
Whittington, the Lord Mayor of London. We have been at some 
pains to trace the story of the latter, in the hope of being able to find 
accommodation for his cat in the pages of history. We regret to say 
that our task has ended in the melancholy conviction that the cat of 
Whittington must make one in that imaginary family which comprises 
the puss in boots of the Marquis of Carabas, the rats and lizards of 
Cinderella, and the chickens of Mother Carey. 

Among the distinctions to which this reign is entitled, we must not 
omit to mention that it was the first in which the practice prevailed of 
burning what were called heretics. Had this circumstance occurred 
to us before we commenced the character of Henry, we think we 
might have spared ourselves the trouble of writing it. The burning 
of heretics ought, of itself, to brand his name with infamy. 



CHAPTEE THE SECOND. 

HENRY THE FIFTH, SURNAMED OF MONMOUTH. 

Henry the Fifth, on coming to the throne, pursued the policy of 
conciliation ; but it so happened that his first act of magnanimity was 
bestowed in a quarter where it could do no good and excite no grati- 
tude. The act in question, for which he has been greatly praised, 
was the removal of the body of Eichard the Second from an obscure 
tomb in the Friars' Church, at Langley, to a place beside his first 
wife, the good Queen Anne, in the Abbey of Westminster. Had 
Eichard the Second been aware of the honour reserved for him after 
his death, he might probably have requested the advance of a small 
instalment during his lifetime, when it would have been of some use 
to him. The greatest magnificence that can be lavished on a tomb 
will scarcely compensate for an hour's confinement within the dreari- 
ness of a prison. Had Eichard been living, there would have been 
some magnanimity in restoring him to his proper position, but giving 
to his remains the honours due to sovereignty was only a confession 
•on the part of Henry that he and his father had usurped the crown 
•of one who, being dead, could no longer claim retribution for his 
injuries. It was a mockery to pretend to uphold the deposed king by 
the agency of an upholsterer, and the funeral was nothing more than 
another black job added to the many that had already arisen out of 
the treatment of poor Eichard. 






CHAP II.] HENRY THE FIFTH. 231 

The release of the Earl of March from captivity, and the restoration 
of the son of Hotspur to the honours of the Percies, were acts of 
more decided liberality ; but, if we are to believe the gossip of the 
period, these two young gentlemen were a pair of spoons, wholly in- 
capable of making a stir of any kind. The Earl of March was, it is 
true, a spoon of the king's pattern, for he was a scion of a royal stock, 
but he nevertheless had enough of the fiddle-head about him to . nder 
it certain that he could be played upon, or let down a peg when 
occasion required. 

From the wildness of Henry's life during his Welsh princedom, it 
was expected that his career as king would have been a series of 
practical jokes upon his officers of state and his subjects in general. 
He had, when a young man, " scrupled not," according to Hume, " to 
accompany his riotous associates in attacking the passengers in the 
streets and highways, and despoiling them of their goods ; and he 
found an amusement in the incidents which the tears and regret of 
these defenceless people produced on such occasions." It was feared, 
therefore, that he would have continued to riot in runaway knocks, 
not only at the doors, but upon the heads of the public. Happily, he 
disappointed these expectations, for from the moment of his ascending 
the throne, he became exceedingly well conducted and highly respect- 
able. He did not exactly cut his old friends, but told them plainly 
that they must reform if they desired to retain the acquaintance of 
their sovereign. He stated plainly that it would not do for the king 
of England to be figuring at fancy balls, and kicking his heels about 
at casinos, as in former times, for he was now no longer a man about 
town, but the sovereign of a powerful country. Poor Gascoigne, the 
Chief Justice, had approached the royal presence with fear and trem- 
bling, fully expecting to be paid off without any pension for having 
committed Henry, when Prince of Wales, but, to the surprise of 
everyone, the king commended the judge for his firmness, and advised 
him, in the words of the song — 

" To do the same thing, were he in the same place," 

should he, the king, be placed to-morrow in another similar position. 
In the first year of the new reign a commotion sprung up, which 
first developed itself in a violent fit of seditious bill-sticking. In the 
course of a night, some party succeeded in getting out an " effective 
poster," announcing the readiness of " a hundred thousand men to 
assert their right by force of arms, if needful." What those rights 
were the placards did not state, and probably this would have been 
the very last subject that the hundred thousand men would have 
proceeded to think about. They were supposed to have been instigated 
by the Lollards, one of whom, Sir John Oldcastle, their leader, was 
sent for by the king to have a little talk, in the course of which the 
wrongs of the Lollards might perchance be hit upon. Sir John Old- 
castle, who was one of the old school, found plenty to say, but he 
never could find anyone to listen patiently to his rigmaroles. Henry 
the Fifth was obliged to cut the old gentleman short by hinting that 



232 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV 

the statute dc heretico comburendo was in force, and Sir John, who 
had been about to fire up, cooled down very decidedly on hearing the 
allusion. Henry, finding nothing could be done with Oldcastle, who 
was as sturdy and obstinate as bis name would seem to imply, turned 
him over to Archbishop Arundel. The prelate undertook to bring Sir 
John to his senses, but the junction could not be effected, for the 
objects were really too remote to be easily brought together. A writ 
was issued, but Oldcastle kept the proper officer at bay, and assailed 
him not only with obstructive missiles, but with derisive ridicule. 
At length, a military force was sent out to take the Old-castle by 
storm, when Sir John unwillingly surrendered. Though taken, he 
refused to be shaken in bis obstinate resolves, and he pleaded two 
whole days before his judges, in the hope of wearing them out and 
inducing them to stay the proceedings, rather than subject themselves 
to the fearful blow of his excessive long-windedness. He was, how- 
ever, condemned, but the king granted a respite of fifty days, during 
which the old fellow either contrived or was allowed to escape from 
the Tower ; and the probability is, that the gaolers had instructions 
to wink, in the event of his being seen to pass the portals of his 
prison. 

Oldcastle, or Lord Cobham, as he was also called, had no sooner 
got out of prison than be rushed into the flames of sedition, and 
illustrated by his conduct the process of a leap from the frying-pan 
into the fire. He appointed a meeting of bis followers at Eltham for 
the purpose of surprising Henry, but the king observing the moves of 
the knight determined if possible to avoid being check-mated. His 
majesty repaired to Westminster, when Cobham, changing his tactics, 
fixed upon St. Giles's Fields as the place of rendezvous. The king 
thought to himself " Now we've got them there we'll keep them 
there," and shut the gates of the city. This was on the feast of the 
Epiphany, or Twelfth Day, 1414, and in the etening the Lord Mayor 
of London arrested several disreputable Twelfth-night characters. 
On the next day, a little after midnight, Henry went forth expecting 
to find twenty-five thousand men assembled in St. Giles's Fields, but 
he met only eighty Lollards lolling about, expecting Sir John Oldcastle. 
Several of them were banged on the charge of having intended to 
destroy king, lords, commons, church, state, and all the other sundries 
of which the constitution is composed, and to turn England into a 
federal republic, with Sir John Oldcastle as president. 

The idea of eighty enthusiasts meeting in a field near London to 
slice their country into republics, and make a bonfire of the crown, 
the sceptre, the throne, and the other appointments of royalty, is 
really too ridiculous to be entertained, though it is almost funny 
enough to be entertaining. Such, nevertheless, was the alarm the 
Lollards had inspired, that everyone suspected of Lollardism was 
condemned to forfeit his head first and his goods afterwards, though 
after taking a man in execution it was rather superfluous cruelty to 
take bis property by the same process. Life, however, was held of 
so little account in those days that there was considered to be nc such 
capital fun as capital punishment. 



CHAP' II.] 



HENRY CLAIMS THE FRENCH CROWN. 



233 



Henry had scarcely worn the English crown for a year, when, in 
the spirit of an old clothesman, who delights in a plurality of hats, 
he thought the crown of France might furnish a graceful supplement 
to his own head-dress. He therefore sent in his claim to the French 
diadem, making out a title in right of Edward the Third's wife, who 
had no right at all, or if she had, it is clear that Henry the Fifth had 
no right to the lady, whose heir was Edward Mortimer. France was 




Lord Mayor of the Period arresting a suspicious Twelfth-night Character. 



in a wretched state when Henry put in his claim ; for Paris was in 
one of its revolutionary fits, and intrigue was rampant in the royal 
family. The dauphin, Louis, was continually fighting with his mother, 
and insulting his father, while the Duke of Orleans and his cousin the 
Duke of Burgundy were perpetually quarrelling. Each had his 
partisans, and those belonging to the latter were in the habit of de- 
claring that an Orleans plum — alluding, of course, to the duke's vast 



234 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

fortune — was preferable to an entire dozen of Burgundy. In the 
meantime Paris was infested by a band of assassins, professing to be 
the friends of liberty, and wearing white hoods, which they forced on 
to everybody's head; and this act was no doubt the origin of the ex- 
pression with reference to the hoodwinking of the people. 

Before proceeding to arm, Henry proposed a compromise. He 
demanded two millions in cash, and King Charles's daughter, 
Catharine, in marriage. The latter offered the lady in full, but 
only a moiety of the money. This arrangement was scornfully re- 
jected, and Henry held a council on the 17th of April, 1415, at which 
he announced his determination to go " over the water to Charley." 
Having resolved upon what to do, the next question was how to do it; 
and the first difficulty that occurred was the refusal of his soldiers to 
stir a step without an advance of three months' wages. He first tried 
the Parliament, and got a good supply, which was further increased by 
borrowing from or robbing his subjects. Even this would not do, and re- 
course was had to the common but disgraceful practice of unpicking the 
crown, for the purpose of sending the jewels to the pawnbroker's. A 
trusty officer was despatched to deposit with one of the king's rela- 
tives a brilliant, in the name of Bolinbroke. The news of the 
preparations being made in England, spread terror in France, for the 
distant roaring of the British Lion came across the main, with 
portentous fury. The French King, Charles, was utterly useless in 
the emergency — for he was a wretched imbecile — and several artful 
attempts were made to get rid of his authority. Every now and then 
he was made the subject of a commission of lunacy, as a pretext for 
placing power in the dauphin's hands ; and that undutiful son, having 
turned his mother out of doors, seized the contents of the treasury, 
which made him at once master of the capital. At one time, while 
the pusillanimous Charles was lying at Arras, an attempt was made 
to burn him out, by setting fire to his lodgings ; but, having all the 
essential qualities of a perfect pump, he does not appear to have been 
of a combustible nature. He certainly was not of a very fiery disposi- 
tion, and his enemies declaimed that he owed his escape from the 
flames to his being utterly incapable of enlightenment. Such was the 
king of France, and such the feeling entertained towards him by the 
majority of his subjects, when the English sovereign resolved on his 
aggressive enterprise. 

Henry left London on the 18th of June, 1415, and proceeded to 
Winchester, where he was met by another offer of a compromise. 
This he refused, and rudely pushing the deputation aside, he pressed 
on to Southampton. Here his fleet awaited him, but receiving news 
of a conspiracy to take his life he, instead of putting off to sea, put 
off his departure. Sir Thomas Grey, the Lord Scroop, and the Earl 
of Cambridge were all in the plot ; and the two latter having claimed 
the privilege of being tried by their peers, took very little by their 
motion, for they were condemned by a vote of wondrous unanimity. 
Having heard the heads of the treason, Henry cut off the heads of the 
traitors, and embarked, on the 10th of August, on board his ship the 
«' Trinity." The scene on the Southampton pier was animated and 




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CHAI\ II." EMBARKATION OF HENRY. 237 

brilliant when the sovereign placed his foot upon the plank leading to 
the vessel that was to conduct him to the shores of his enemies. 
Gentle breezes were in attendance to waft him on his way, and 
Neptune, who is sometimes ruffled on these occasions, presented an 
even calmness that it was quite delightful to contemplate. An enthu- 
siastic crowd on the shore burst forth into occasional cheers, which 
were succeeded now and then by the faint sob of some sentimental 
trooper, taking leave of the fond maid whose beart — and last quarter's 
wages — he was carrying away with him. The civic authorities were, 
of course, active in their demonstrations of loyalty on this occasion ; 
and the Mayor of Southampton, in backing to make one of his 
sycophantic bows, sent one of the attendants fairly over the bows of 
the vessel. With this exception, no accident or mischance marked 
the embarkation of Henry, which seemed to proceed under the most 
favourable auspices. 

His fleet consisted of more than a thousand vessels, and some 
swans having come to look at it, he declared this little mark of 
cygnal attention to be a capital omen. We must request the reader 
to bear in mind, that though all the authorities justify us in 
announcing one thousand as the number of the ships constituting 
Henry's fleet, we should not advise anyone to believe the statement, 
who has not had an opportunity of counting the vessels. Either the 
ships in those days were very small, or Southampton harbour has 
been fearfully contracted by the contractors who have since under- 
taken to widen it. We have been accustomed to place implicit faith 
in the rule of arithmetic, that " a thousand into one won't go ! " nor 
do we feel disposed to alter our impression in favour of a thousand 
of Henry's ships being able to go into Southampton harbour. We 
suspect that a hundred would have been nearer the mark, for 
posterity is greatly in the habit of putting on an 0, and really 
believing there is nothing in it. 

Whatever the numerical sti-ength of Henry's fleet may have been, 
it is certain that he entered the mouth of the Seine, which made no 
attempt to show its teeth, and he landed on the 13th of August, three 
miles from Harfleur, without any resistance. He severely deprecated 
all excesses against the peaceful inhabitants, but he nevertheless 
besieged the fortress of Harfleur with tremendous energy ; so that 
his conduct towards the natives was a good deal like that of the 
individual who knocked another downstairs with numerous apologies 
for being under the painful necessity of doing so. 

The siege was under the conduct of " Master Giles," the Wellington 
of the period. Master Giles must have been somewhat of a bungler, 
for he was not successful until he had lost nearly all his men, and 
been six-and-thirty days routing out the garrison. Even then the 
foe surrendered through being too ill to fight, rather than from having 
got much the worst of it. Henry's army was also reduced to a pack 
of invalids, and his ships were turned into infirmaries for his soldiers. 
Though the troops were wretchedly indisposed, Henry himself was 
only sick of doing nothing, and he accordingly sent a challenge by a 
friend to the dauphin of France, inviting him to a single combat. 



238 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[liOOI 



IV. 



The feelings of Louis were not in correspondence with those of the 
English king, whose invitation to a hostile tetc-d-tcte was never 
answered. The friend sent by Henry was not by any means the sort 
of person to tempt the representative of Young France to a hostile 
meeting. The bearer of the challenge was, in fact, a walking pattern 
of what the dauphin might expect to become in the event of his 
engaging in a duel. A countenance which looked more like a mug 
that had been cracked and riveted in twenty places, was the letter 
of recommendation presented by Henry's second. As the friend was 
evidently not a man to take a denial, Henry contented himself with 
scratching off a few hieroglyphics on a sheet of paper — to make 
believe that he was writing a note — and hastily seizing an envelope, 
he sealed and delivered the delusive missive. Henry's friend went 
awav satisfied, with the full conviction that he was taking back an 




Henry the litth sends a Friend to the Dauphin. 



acceptance of his master's challenge, but when the communication 
came to be opened, the English king was indignant at the hoax that 
"aad been played upon him. 

Finding himself foiled in an attempt to settle his dispute by single 
combat, Henry called over the muster-roll of his troops, which 
presented a frightful number of vacancies since the making up of his 
last army list. He had lost several hands from his first foot, and he 



CHAP. II.] STATE OF THE ENGLISH ARMY. 239 

was compelled to say to his adjutant, " Eeally, if we go on at this 
rate we shall be compelled to notify that Nobody is promoted vice 
Everybody, killed, or retired." 

His entire force having dwindled down to the mere shadow of its 
former self, he was advised to get home as speedily as possible. 
" No," he replied, " I have no notion of coming all this way for 
nothing, and I shall see a little more of this good land of France 
before I go back again." The army, which was nearly all under the 
doctor's hands, seemed, upon being drawn up in marching order, far 
fitter to go to bed than to go to battle. Every regiment required 
medical regimen, and when the soldiers should have been sitting with 
their feet in hot water and comforters round their throats, they wero 
required, with a callous indifference to their state of health, to march 
towards Calais. 

The journey began on the 6th of October, when the French king 
and the dauphin had a large force at Eouen, while the Constable of 
France was in front of the English, with an army consisting of the 
very pick of Picardy. In passing through Normandy Henry met with 
no opposition, but his movements were watched by a large force, 
which kept continually cutting off stragglers, or in military language, 
clipping the wings of his army. Those who lingered in the rear, or, 
as it were hung out behind like a piece of a pocket-handkerchief 
protruding from the skirts of the main body, were cut off with merci- 
less alacrity. The English continued to be dreadfully ill, and were 
proper subjects for the Hotel des Invalidcs, but they nevertheless 
pursued their march with indomitable courage. In crossing the river 
Bresle, beyond Dieppe, they made a decided splash ; but the garrison 
of Eu interrupted them in their cold bath, though with very little 
effect, for the French leader was killed and his followers were driven 
back to the ramparts. On reaching the Somme the English army 
found both banks so strongly fortified, that had they resorted to the 
most desperate hazard, or played any other reckless game, breaking 
the banks would have been impossible. 

Henry consulted with his friends as to the best means of getting 
across, but nothing was suggested, except to tunnel under the banks 
and dive along the bottom of the stream ; but this was objected to for 
divers reasons. Henry kept marching up the left bank of the river, 
in the hope of finding a favourable opportunity to dash across ; but 
every attempt terminated in making ducks and drakes of his brave 
soldiers. Wherever a chance appeared to present itself he tried it, 
but without success, for the river had been filled with stakes, though 
the extent of the stakes did not prevent him from carrying on the 
game as long as possible. At length, on reaching Nesle he hit the 
right nail on the head, for running across a temporary bridge near 
the spot, he found the accommodation passable. 

The Constable of France, on hearing what had occurred, retired to 
St. Pol, like a poltroon, and sent heralds to Henry, advising him to 
avoid a battle, for the French fully intended to give it him. The 
constable then fell back upon Agincourt, in which direction the 
English army prepared to follow him. On the 24th of October 



210 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [DOOK IV, 

Henry and his soldiers came in sight of the enemy's outposts, and 
their columns served as advertising columns to indicate their 
position. During the night it is said that the English played on 
their trumpets, so that the whole neighbourhood resounded with 
the noise ; but as they were all very tired, and had gone to 
sleep, it is probable that the only music heard by the inhabitants 
emanated from the nasal organs of the slumbering soldiers. By the 
French the night was passed in noise and revelry ; but the English 
were chiefly absorbed in repose, or occupied in making their last wills 
and testaments. These were far more suitable employments than 
the performance of those concerted pieces which would only have 
disconcerted the plans of their leaders. 

The moon, which on that occasion was up all night, enabled the 
English officers to ascertain the quality of the ground tbat the French 
occupied. The constable stuck the royal banner into the middle of 
the Calais road, an achievement which the muddy nature of the soil, 
rendered softer by the drizzly rain, prevented from being at all difficult. 
The French took the usual means of counteracting the effect of 
external wet by internal soaking. " Every man," says the chronicler, 
" dydde drynke lyke a fyshe," though the simile does not hold, for we 
never yet found one of the finny tribe who was given to the sort of 
liquor that the French were imbibing before Agincourt. They passed 
round the cup so rapidly that, what with the clayey nature of the 
soil and the whirl of excitement into which their heads were thrown, 
they found it almost impossible to preserve their respective equilibria. 
They floundered about in the most disgraceful manner, and there was 
"many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip" on that memorable occa- 
sion. In addition to the excesses of the table, they availed themselves 
of the resources of the multiplication table, by calculating the amount 
of ransoms they should receive for the English king and the great 
barons, whom they made sure of capturing. Thus, in the agreeable 
but delusive occupation of turning their imaginations into poultry- 
yards, and stocking them with ideal chickens that were never destined 
to be hatched, did the French pass the night before the battle. Still, 
there was a melancholy mixed with the mirth in the minds of many, 
who, in the midst of the general counting of the phantom pullets, 
found sad thoughts to brood over. It so happened that there were 
scarcely any musical instruments among the French, and their horses, 
it was remarked, never once neighed during the night, which was 
thought to be ominous of bad, for if a dismal foreboding intruded, 
there was not even an animal to say " neigh " to it. Some of the 
older and more experienced officers were seized with gloomy antici- 
pations, but they were either coughed, laughed, or clamoured down ; 
and when the veteran Duke of Berri ventured to allude to Poictiers, 
on which occasion the French had been equally sanguine, he was 
tauntingly nicknamed the Blackberry for his sombre sentiments. To 
add to the discomfort of the troops, there was a deficiency of hay and 
straw for the use of the cavalry. The piece of ground where the 
horses had been taken in to bait was a perfect pool, in which the poor 
creatures could be watered, it is true, but could not enjoy any other 



CHAP. II.] HENRY INSPECTING HIS TROOPS AT AGINCOURT. 



241 



refreshment. The earth had proved itself indeed a toper, according 
to the song, and had moistened its clay to such a degree that evciy- 
one who came in contact with it found himself placed on a most un- 
comfortable footing. However resolved the French might have been 
to make a stand on the day of battle, it was impossible for them to 
make any stand at all on the night preceding it. 

At early dawn Henry got up in excellent spirits, and declared him- 
self ready to answer the communication of the French constable, 
which he had received some time before, advising him to treat or re- 
treat, and which had hitherto remained unrespondcd to. A movement 
of astonishment was evinced by his followers at the announcement of 
the English king's intention to reply to the message he had received, 
but when he said, " I shall trouble him with three lines, which may 
extend to three columns," and proceeded to divide his army into that 
form, the gallant soldiers understood and cheered his meaning. The 
archers were placed in front, and every one of them had at least four 
strings to his bow, in the shape of a billhook, a hatchet, a hammer, and 
a long thick stake, in addition to his stock of arrows. 

Having made these preparations, Henry mounted a little grey pony 
and reviewed his army. He wore his best Sunday helmet of polished 




Henry inspecting his Troops before the Battle of Agincourt. 

steel, which had received, expressly for the occasion, an extra leather- 
ing, and on the top of that he wore a crown of gold richly set with 

u 



242 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

jewels. In this headgear he presented such a dazzling spectacle to 
the enemy, that it would have been almost as difficult to take an aim 
at the sun itself as at the blazing and brilliant English leader. As he 
rode from rank to rank, he had an encouraging word for every soldier; 
and his familiar " Ha, Briggs," to one ; his cheerful " What, Jones, 
is that you, my boy ? " to another ; and his invigorating " Up, Smith, 
and at 'em!" to a third, contributed greatly to increase the 
confidence of his men and strengthen their attachment to their 
general. " As for me," he said, " you'll have to pay no ransom for 
me, as I've fully made up my mind to die or to conquer." On passing 
one of the divisions, he heard Walter Hungerford — the original pro- 
prietor of Hungerford Stairs — regretting there were not more of them. 
"What do we want with more?" exclaimed Henry. " I would not 
have an extra man if you would give him me. If we are to fall, the 
fewer the better, and if we are to conquer, I would not have one pair 
of additional hands to pick a single leaf of our laurels." The French 
were at least six to one of the English, but the former were horridly 
out of condition on the night before the battle. They wore long coats 
of steel down to their knees, which gave them the look of animated 
meat screens, and the armour they carried on their legs served to com- 
plete the resemblance. " They wore a quantity of harness on the 
upper part of their bodies," says M. Nicolas, but he does not tell us 
whether the harness consisted of horse collars, which by being grinned 
through would have enabled them to advance towards the foe with a 
smiling aspect. The ground was remarkably soft, and the French 
troops being exceedingly heavy, they kept sticking in the mud at every 
step, while the ensigns, who had the additional weight of their flags, 
got planted in the ground like a row of standards. The horses were 
up to their knees in no time, and when they attempted to pull up 
they found the operation quite impossible. Henry had declared he 
would roll the enemy in the dust, but the wet had laid all the dust, 
and he must have rolled them in the mud if he had rolled them in 
anything. The French are said by a recent historian* to have been 
suffering under a " moral vertigo," but as the vertigo had been brought 
on by drinking on the previous night, the morality of the "vertigo" will 
bear questioning. They had got themselves into a field between two 
woods, where they had no room to " deploy," and they were tumbling 
over each other like a pack of cards, or a regiment of tin soldiers. 
Though they had imbibed a large quantity of wine and spirits, the 
rain, which fell in torrents, only added water to what they had drunk, 
and threw them into what is technically termed a "groggy" condi- 
tion. Henry compared them to so many tumblers of rum-and-water, 
so comical was their appearance as they fell about in a state of soaked 
stupidity. To increase their confusion, the Constable of France was 
unable to keep order, for several young sprigs of French nobility were 
all tendering their advice, and thus there were not only cooks enough 
to spoil the broth, but to make a regular hash of it. 

At length, about the hour of noon, Henry gave the word to begin 

• Macfarlane. Cabinet History, vol. v., p. 21. 



CHAP. II. J BATTLE OF AGINCOUKT. 243 

by exclaiming "Banners, advance!" and at .the same moment Sir 
Thomas Erpingham, a grey old knight, who appears to have beeu 
a kind of military pantaloon, threw his truncheon into the air with 
true pantomimic activity. "Now, strike !" exclaimed the veteran, 
as he performed this piece of buffoonery, and followed it up with the 
words " Go it ! " " At 'em again! " " Serve 'em right ! " and " Give it 
'cm ! " The French fought bravely, and Messire Clignet, of Brabant, 
charged with twelve hundred horse, exclaiming " Mount joye, St. 
Denis ! " when down he fell, on the soft and slippery ground, like a 
horse on the wooden pavement. Everywhere the French cavalry 
cut the most eccentric capers ; and even when there was an oppor- 
tunity of advancing, the advantage seemed to slip from under them, 
for the ground was as bad as ground glass to stand upon. The 
English archers rushed among the steel-clad knights, who were as 
stiff as so many pokers — though not one of them could stir — and 
they were thus caught in their own steel traps, or trappings. The 
Constable of France was killed, and the flower of the French chivalry 
was nipped in the bud, or, rather, experienced a blow of a fatal 
character. 

" This is a very hard case, indeed," roared one of the victims, as he 
pointed to his suit of steel, which rendered him incapable of fighting 
or running away, though he was quite ready for either. But the 
hardest part of all was the softness of the ground, into which the 
French kept sinking so rapidly that they might as well have fought 
on the Goodwin Sands as on the field of Agincourt. The weight of 
their armour caused them to disappear every now and then, like the 
Light of All Nations, on the spot we have just named, and an old 
French warrior — one of the heavy fathers of that day — was seen to 
subside so completely in the mud, that in a few minutes he had left 
only his hair apparent. The English, who were lightly clad, kept 
up wonderfully under the fatigues of the day, and some of them per- 
formed prodigies of valour. Henry himself seems to have acquitted 
himself in a style quite worthy of Shaw, or Pshaw, the Life Guardsman. 
His majesty was charged by a band of eighteen knights, whom it is 
said he overcame, but it is much more likely that rinding themselves 
ready to sink into the earth, they were compelled to knock under. 

Their cause was desperate, it was neck or nothing with many ; but 
as they became immersed in the soil by degrees, it was neck first, and 
nothing shortly afterwards. The Duke of Alencon made a momentary 
effort to be vigorous, in spite of his steel petticoats, and gave Henry 
a blow on the head that broke off a bit of the crown which he had 
been wearing over his helmet. This embarras des chateaux, or in- 
convenient superfluity of hats, was a weakness Henry was subject to, 
and there was no harm in his being made to pay for it. The Duke 
of Alencon had no sooner broken the king's crown than he received 
a fracture in his own, which proved fatal. The battle was now over 
and the English began to secure prisoners, taking from each captive 
his cap, or hat, but it is to be presumed giving a ticket to each, 
by which all would get back their own helmets. Henry having 
taken it into his head that the battle was going to be renewed, 

li — 2 



244 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV 



ordered the prisoners to be killed ; but he afterwards apologised for 
his mistake, though posterity has never been satisfied with the excuse 
he offered. As far as we have been able to learn the particulars of 
this atrocious blunder, it arose in the following manner. The priests 
of the English army — with a sort of instinctive tendency to taking 
care of themselves — were sitting amongst the baggage. Henry, 
a noise among the reverend gentlemen, looked round, 



hearing 




English Soldier securing Prisoner at the Battle of Agincourt. 



and found them apparently threatened with an attack from what he 
thought was a hostile force, -but which turned out to be a few 
peasants, who were scrambling with the priests for a share of 
the luggage. This attempted appropriation of church property was 
resisted by a vigorous ecclesiastical clamour, which led Henry to 
believe there had been a rally among the foe, and that the priests 
were giving the signal. Had he been aware that they were crying 
out before they were hurt, there is every reason to believe that he 
would not have issued the mandate which has so much compromised 
his otherwise fair average character. The French loss at the battle 
of Agincourt was quite incredible, but not a bit the less historical on 
that account, for if history were to reject all that cannot be believed 
its dimensions would be fearfully crippled. 

The" English, sinking under the weight of their booty, as well as 
the mud on their boots, marched towards Calais. Henry's army was 



CHAP. II.] VISIT OF THE EMPE/KOR SIGISMUND. 246 

reduced almost to a skeleton, but he used to say jocosely, that with 
that skeleton key he would find an opening anywhere. Though rich 
in conquest, he was short of cash, and as England was always the 
place for getting money, he determined on hastening thither. The 
people received him with enthusiasm, and at Dover they rushed into 
the sea to carry him on shore, so that he literally came in on the 
shoulders of the people. Proud of this popular pickaback, he made 
a speech amid the general waving of hats, which was responded to by 
the gentle waving of the ocean. The tide, however, began to rise, 
when Henry cut short the proceedings of the meeting between him- 
self and his subjects by exclaiming, " But on, my friends, to the 
shore, for this is not the place for dry discussion." 

On his way up to town each city vied with the other in loyalty. 
Eochester contended with Canterbury, Chatham struggled with 
Gravesend, and Blackheath entered into a single combat with Green- 
wich ; Deptford ran itself into debt, which it retains nominally to 
this day ; and the Bricklayers presented their arms to Henry as he 
passed into the metropolis. In London he was met by the Lords and 
Commons, the mayor, aldermen, and citizens ; but the sweetest music 
was that made by the wine as it poured down the streets, and caught 
a guttural sound as it turned into the gutters. Many a bottle of fine 
old crusted port was mulled by being thrown into the thoroughfare, 
and though it might have been good enough to have spoken for itself, 
it ran itself down through the highways with much energy. Nor 
was this enthusiasm confined to hollow words, for all the supplies 
which the king requested were freely voted him. It was only for 
Henry to ask and have, at this auspicious moment ; and if, like some 
children, he had cried for the moon, it is not unlikely that his subjects, 
in the excess of their loyalty, would have promised to give it him. 

In the spring of the year 1416, London was enlivened by a visit 
from the Emperor Sigismund. He imparted considerable gaiety to 
the season, and his entry into the city gave occasion for a general 
holiday. His object was to endeavour to effect a coalition between 
the two rival popes, and to get the kings of France and England to 
make it up if possible. He was followed by some French ambassadors 
who marred the harmony of the procession by looking daggers at 
the English nobles. Occasionally they proceeded from glances to 
gibes, which naturally led to pushes, that were only prevented 
from coming to blows by the sudden turning round of the emperor 
whenever he heard a disturbance going on amongst those who 
followed him. 

During Sigismund's stay in town, the French besieged Harfleur, 
which was guarded by the Earl of Dorset and a most unhealthy 
garrison. Toothache, elephantiasis, and sciatica, had so reduced the 
Bpirit of the English force that the Duke of Bedford, the king's 
brother, was sent to aid the Earl of Dorset, and the poor old pump 
was grateful for this timely succour. Bedford having put matters 
quite straight, returned to England, and Henry proposed a run over to 
Calais with his imperial visitor, Sigismund. Here a sort of Congress 
was held, at which Henry made himself so popular, that his rights 



246 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

to the French throne were partially recognised. France wag 
at this juncture in a very unpromising condition, for the royal family 
did nothing but quarrel and murder one another's favourites. Isabella, 
the queen, lived in hostility with the king, who arrested several of 
his wife's servants, and had one of them, whose name was Bois- 
Bourdon, sewn up in a leather-bag and thrown into the Seine, from 
which the notion of giving a servant the sack, on the occasion of his 
getting his discharge, no doubt takes its origin. 

The Dauphin John having died, he was succeeded by his brother 
Charles, a boy of sixteen, who was continually fighting with his own 
mother, and getting a good deal the worst of it. This state of things 
tempted Henry to bring an army into France in August, 1417, when, 
after the surrender of a few smaller places, he took Caen by assault, 
or rather by a good Caen pepper. In the ensuing year he undertook 
several sieges at once, and played with his artillery upon Cherbourg.. 
Damfront, Louviers, and Pont de l'Arche as easily as the musician 
who plays simultaneously on six different instruments. His next im- 
portant undertaking was the siege of Bouen, before which he sat down, 
and having looked at it through his glass, he made up his mind that 
starving it out was the only method of taking it. The inhabitants held 
out for some time on their provisions, but these being exhausted, they 
began to devour all sorts of trash, that was never intended for 
culinary purposes. Soupc au shoe became a common dish, and 
though for a brief period they had mutton chop en papillotcs they 
were at last reduced to the papillotcs without the meat, but with 
their tremendous twists they of course could not be expected to make 
a satisfactory meal off curl-papers. They accordingly surrendered, and 
Henry, on the 16th of January, 1419, entered Bouen, where am- 
bassadors from the various factions in France were sent to him. He 
was, however, quite open to all, but decidedly influenced by none, and 
had a polite word for each, but a wink for those in his confidence, 
as he administered the blarney to the various legates. At length it 
was agreed that he should have an interview with the king and queen 
of France and the Duke of Burgundy. 

The French sovereign was not presentable when the day came, for 
excessive indulgence in wine had reduced him to a state from which 
all the soda-water in the world could not, at that moment, have 
recovered him. Henry, therefore, met the queen, who was attended 
by her lovely daughter, the Princess Catherine, and her cousin of 
Burgundy, while the English king was supported by his brothers, 
Clarence and Gloucester. The meeting was exceedingly ceremonious, 
and was conducted a good deal in the style of a medley dance, com- 
prising the minuet, the figure Pastorale in the first set of quadrilles, 
and Sir Boger de Coverley. At a signal announced by the striking up 
of some music, Henry advanced first, performing as it were the 
cavalier scul, when the Princess Catherine and the queen, with the 
Duke of Burgundy between them, also advanced, until all met in the 
centre. Henry bowed to the queen, and took her hand, and then 
did the same with the Princess Catherine, a movement resembling 
the celebrated cliainc des dames — and Burgundy fell in gracefully with 



ciur. ii.] 



HENRY ENACTS THE LOVER. 



247 



what was going on by an occasional balances to complete the action 
of the second couple. 

This was the first occasion upon which Henry had seen his intended 
bride, and whether in earnest or in sham he appeared to be at once 
struck by her surpassing beauty. He enacted the lover at first 



«**.-♦ sail 




The Duke of Burgundy introducing Queen Isabella and his Daughter to Henry the Fifth. 

sight with a vigour that would have secured him a livelihood as a 
walking gentleman, had he lived in our own time, and been dependent 
for support on his theatrical abilities. The whole day was spent in 
formalities, and Henry sat opposite to the princess till the close of the 
interview, looking unutterable things, for she was so far off that it 
would have been vain to have uttered anything. In two days after- 
wards Henry and the queen paid each other a second formal visit ; but 
the English king looked in vain for the young lady, who like a true 
•coquette, seems to have kept away for the purpose of increasing the 
impatience of her lover. Her mother, with the tact of an old match- 



£48 COMIC HISTORY OF feKGLAND. [BOOK IV*. 

maker, tried to get the best possible terms from Henry ; but with all 
his affection, he would not stir from his resolution, to insist on having 
the possession of Normandy and a few other perquisites as the young 
lady's dowry. 

The French queen pretended to take time to consider his pro- 
posal, and seven formal interviews were held ; but all of them were 
of so dull, stately, and slow a character, that no progress was made 
at any one of them. The fact is, that Henry was being humbugged, 
and if he had suspected as much during the seven first meetings, he 
was convinced of it at that, which should have been the eighth, for on 
going to keep his appointment he found neither the queen, the duke, 
the princess, nor any of the attendants of either of them. All cere- 
mony was at an end, the diplomatic quadrille parties were broken up, 
and Henry, disgusted at having been made to dance attendance for 
nothing at all, became so angry that his brain began to reel on its 
own account, and he set off to his own quarters in a galop. He 
ascertained the truth to be, that the queen and Burgundy had made 
it up with the dauphin, whom they had gone to join, and the precious 
trio having sworn eternal friendship to each other, added a clause to 
the affidavit for the purpose of swearing eternal hatred to all English- 
men. 

Tired of kicking his heels about to no purpose, Henry determined 
on practising some entirely new steps ; the first of which was to 
advance upon Pontoise and chassez the inhabitants. He then pushed 
on towards Paris, when Burgundy, fearful of a rencontre, retired from 
St. Denis, where he had taken up his position. Henry again offered 
to treat, but in sending in the particulars of his demand he added 
Pontoise to the list of places he should require to be transferred to 
his possession. 

The alliance between the dauphin and the Duke of Burgundy was 
as hollow as the hollow beech tree rendered famous by a series of 
single knocks at the hands, or, rather, at the beak, of the wood- 
pecker. After a little negotiation, and a great deal of treachery, 
Burgundy, in spite of the warnings of several of his servants, was 
induced to visit the dauphin at Montereau. The duke went unarmed, 
on the assurance that he should return unharmed, and instead of his. 
helmet he w y ore a velvet cap, which one of his attendants declared 
was a w y onderful proof of soft-headedness. Burgundy, on coming, 
into the presence of the heir to the throne of France, bent his knee ;. 
when the President of Provence wmispered something in the dauphin's 
ear, and both began winking fearfully at a man with a battle-axe. 
The man with the battle-axe gave a significant nod, and dropped his 
weapon, as if by mistake, upon Burgundy ; when the Sire de Navailles, 
a friend of the duke, pointing to the fearful dent the axe had made, 
exclaimed, " This is not a mere accident." This was immediately 
obvious ; for several others rushed upon poor Burgundy, who devoted 
his last breath to exclaiming to the dauphin, " You are an ass — ass 
■ " for he died before he could get the word ass — ass — in. 

Young Philip, the heir of Jean Sans-peur — or Jack Dreadnought 
as we should have translated this nickname of the Duke of Burgund\ 



CtlAf . tt.] tlENRY MAIllimS CATIIE1UNE 2-19 

— succeeded to his father's estates, as well as becoming residuary 
legatee of the affections of most of his subjects. The dauphin's 
foul deed was execrated on all sides ; for though the state of morals 
was low at the period of which we write, there was always a certain 
love of fair play inherent in the human character. The younger Bur- 
gundy was in a state of effervescence, and though he kept bottled up 
for a short time, his rage soon spirted out with fearful vehemence. 
He entered into a coalition with Henry, who stipulated for the hand 
of the Princess Catherine in possession, with the crown of France in 
reversion, and a few other trifling contingencies. In the year 1420, 
one day in the month of April — probably the first — the imbecile 
Charles, guided by Queen Isabella and the Duke of Burgundy, put 
his hand to the treaty. The unhappy monarch was in his usual 
state, when a pen having been thrust into his grasp, and while some- 
body held the document, somebody else directed the motion of the 
royal fingers. The treaty thus became disfigured by a series of 
scratches and blots which were declared to be the king's signature. 
An appendix to this document contained a fulsome panegyric on the 
English king, which wound up with a declaration of his fitness to 
succeed to the French crown, because " he had a noble person and a 
pleasing countenance." This shallow argument was intended to lead 
to the conclusion that he would treat his subjects handsomely ; or 
that, at all events, should he ever reign over France, his rule would 
not be without some very agreeable features. 

In May of the same year — 1420 — Henry started for Troyes, where 
the young Duke of Burgundy and the French royal family were 
sojoitrning. The English king was all impatience to see his bride, 
and he found her sitting with her papa and mamma in the church of 
St. Peter. They had intended a little surprise for their illustrious 
visitor, and everything being ready beforehand, he was affianced on 
the spot to the lovely Catherine. They were regularly married On 
the 2nd of June, and some of the gay young nobles hoped there would 
be a series of balls, dinner parties, and tournaments, in celebration 
of the wedding : Henry, however, declared he would have " no fuss," 
but that those who wanted to show their skill in jousting arfd^ tour- 
neying might accompany him to Sens, which he purposed besieging 
on the second day after his marriage. He declined participating in 
the child's play of a tournament when there was so much real work 
to be done, "and as to feasting," he exclaimed, "let us give the 
people of Sens their whack, or, at all events, if we are to have a good 
blow-out, it must be by blowing the enemy out of the citadel." He 
proceeded at once with his beautiful bride from Troyes, and soon 
reaching Sens, he in two days frightened the inhabitants out of their 
Senses. They surrendered, and he then advanced to Montereau, 
which he took by assault — or rather, as one of the merry old chron- 
iclers hath it, " which he took, not so much by assault as by a pepper." 
After besieging a few other places in France, Henry, in conjunction 
with Charles, the French king, made a triumphal entry into Paris. 
The inhabitants of that city gave him an enthusiastic reception, for, 
like the populace in every period, they were delighted at anything 



250 comic msToiiY of England. [book iv. 

in the shape of change, and paid the utmost respect to those from 
whom they had experienced the greatest injury. 

In January, 1421, Henry being very short of cash, determined on 
going home to England, which was even in those days the most 
liberal paymaster to popular favourites. Having with him a good- 
looking queen, his reception in his own country was most gratifying, 
for the old clap-trap about "lovely woman" was inherent from the 
earliest periods in the English character. This fascinating female 
was crowned at Westminster Abbey with tremendous pomp, and the 
happy couple went "starring it" about the country in a royal 
progress immediately afterwards. Their success in the provinces 
was immense ; but their pleasant engagements in their own country 
were soon brought to an end by the announcement that France was 
still in a state of turbulence, requiring the immediate presence of 
Henry in Paris. 

Having warmed his subjects' hearts, he struck while the iron was 
hot, and took an aim at their pockets. Parliament was in a capital 
humour, and came out splendidly with pecuniary votes for a new 
expedition. He left the queen at Windsor Castle, where she shortly 
after gave birth to a son ; and having landed a large but very miscel- 
laneous army at Calais, Henry marched to Paris, to reinforce the 
Duke of Exeter, who had been left there as governor. The English 
were successful at all points, and Queen Catherine having joined her 
husband, they held their court at the Louvre, where they sat in their 
coronation robes, with their crowns on their heads, as naturally as if 
they had formed a part of " the Eoyal Family at Home " in Madame 
Tussaud's far-famed collection of wax-work. 

In the midst; of his victorious career in France, Henry had started 
off to the relief of a town invested by the dauphin — an investment 
that was profitable to nobody. The English king had reached 
Corbeil, when he was taking suddenly ill, and throwing himself on a 
litter, he declared himself to be literally tired out with his exertions. 
Having been taken home to the neighbourhood of Vincennes, and 
put to bed, he summoned his brother, the Duke of Bedford, and some 
other nobles, to whom he recommended amity ; but, above all, he 
advised them to continue the alliance with Burgundy, whose habit of 
sticking to his friends has given the name of Burgundy to the well- 
known pitch plaster. Having appointed his brothers Gloucester and 
Bedford regents, the one for England and the other for France, 
during the minority of his son, he seemed perfectly resigned ; but his 
attendants literally roared like a parcel of children, so that he was 
compelled to tell them that crying would do no good to anybody. 
He died on the 31st of August, 1422, aged thirty-four, having reigned 
ten years with some credit to himself, and in full, as far as conquest 
may be desirable, with advantage to his country. 

On the death of a king, it had been usual for the attendants to 
rush helter-skelter out of the room, and ransack the house of the 
deceased monarch, while his successor generally made the best of his 
way down to the treasury. Henry the Fifth was an exception to the 
rule, for he had earned so much respect in his lifetime, that at his 



CHAP. II.] FUNERAL OP ITEXRY THE FIFTH. 251 

death there was no indecorum, but a desire was manifested to give 
him the benefit of a decent, and indeed a magnificent, funeral. When 
a king of England had died abroad on previous occasions, his remains 
were seldom thought worthy of the expense of carriage to his own 
country ; but in this instance no outlay was considered too extrava- 
gant to bestow on the funeral procession of the sovereign. Hundreds 
of mutes followed, with that mute solemnity which is the origin of 
their name : and on this occasion there were hundreds of knights, all 
in the deepest mourning. Several esquires had their armour black- 
leaded, and their plumes dyed in ink, while the king of Scotland 
acted as chief mourner, and the widow of the deceased sovereign 
came in at the end of the gloomy retinue. On its arrival in England, 
when it drew near London, fifteen bishops popped on their pontifical 
attire, and ran to meet it ; while the abbots, taking down their mitres 
from the hat-pegs in the halls of their houses, sallied forth to join the 
sad procession. The remains of the king were carried to Westminster 
Abbey, and consigned to the tomb with every token of esteem, and 
the reverence it had been customary to show to the rising sun alone, 
was on this occasion extended to the luminary that had just set in 
unusual glory. The queen, desirous of evincing her affection for such 
a prince, caused a silver-gilt statue as large as life to be placed on 
the top of his monument. This piece of extravagance was, however, 
before the invention of British Plate, or that "perfect substitute for 
silver," which is a perfect substitute in everything but value, strength, 
purity, appearance, and durability. 

In painting the character of Henry the Fifth, the English 
historians have used the most brilliant colours, while the French 
writers have thrown in some shades of the most Indian-inky black- 
ness. The former have been lavish in the use of couicur dc rose, 
while the latter have selected the very darkest hues, and, indeed, 
produced a picture resembling those dingy profiles which give a hard 
outline of the features, but render it impossible for lis to judge of the 
aspect or complexion of the original. It is for us to look at both 
sides, like the apparently inconsistent pendulum, which, by constantly 
oscillating from right to left, becomes the instrument of furnishing 
a faithful record of the time. 

Henry the Fifth was devoted to the happiness of his people ; but 
he had sometimes an odd way of showing h/ attachment, by ill-using 
the few for the satisfaction of the many. Thus, he persecuted the 
Lollards in the most cruel manner, out of the purest condescension 
towards the clergy, who had got up a clamour against the sect alluded 
to. This obliging disposition may be carried too far, when it urges 
the commission of an injustice to one party, in order to favour another, 
and the persecution of the Lollards at the call of the clergy was a 
good deal like an acquiescence in a cry of " throw him over " got up 
in the gallery of a theatre, against some unfortunate who may have 
incurred the momentary displeasure of a "generous British audience." 

The military exploits of Henry the Fifth have been praised by 
English historians, but the French writers have contrived, to show 
that even the battle of Agincourt was nothing more than a mistake, 



252 Comic history of England. [book iv. 

like the one which happened at Waterloo about four centuries after- 
wards. "He ought to have been conquered at Agincourt," say the 
annalists of Fiance, but we are quite content that his conduct waa 
not precisely what it ought to have been — according to them — on this 
great occasion. 

Some praise has been given him for his tact in negotiating with the 
Duke of Burgundy and the dauphin at the same time, but we must 
confess that our notions of honour do not permit us to approve the 
act of temporising with two parties for the purpose of joining that 
which might prove to be the strongest. He was brave, beyond a 
doubt, but he was cruel in the treatment of some of the prisoners 
who fell into his hands, and we cannot give him the benefit of the 
presumption suggested by a French historian, that if he hanged a 
quantity of unfortunate captives, he had probably very good reasons 
of his own for doing so.* 

Among the other defects attributed to the character of Henry the 
Fifth is a degree of shabbiness towards the people in his employ, 
whom he is said to have paid very inadequately for their services. 
Considering, however, that the liberality of kings is often practised 
at the expense of the people, and that Henry was so crippled in his 
own means that the crown jewels were, on one occasion, pawned, we 
nave no right to blame him for refusing to reward his soldiers with 
what could only have been the proceeds of plunder. 

In person Henry the Fifth was tall and majestic, but his neck was 
a little too long, which may have given him that supercilious air for 
which some of his biographers have censured him. In his social 
habits he resembled the celebrated Mynheer Von Dunk, of anti- 
intoxication notoriety, for Henry "never got drunk," even with 
success, which is of all things the most fatal to temperance. 

* Pour lea autre* qui fnrent executes dans Ic meme temps fen ignor; let raitont, 
ml'U U est a premmcr. jfre., «$'<V— Kapin, torn, iii., p. 504. 



CHAP. III. 



ACCESSION OF HENRY THE SIXTH. 



353 



CHAPTER THE THIRD. 



HENRY THE SIXTH, SURNAMED OF WINDSOR. 



THE SIXTH was not 
out of his long frocks 
when he came to the 
throne, for he had not 
yet completed the 
ninth month of his 
little existence. 
Though he succeeded 
peacefully to the 
crown, he was in arms from the 
first hour of his reign ; and 
though he was not born literally 
with a silver spoon in his mouth, 
he had one there on his acces- 
sion to the throne, for he was 
being fed at the very moment 
that the news of his father's 
death was announced in the 
royal nursery. It is easy to 
conceive the interesting pro- 
ceedings that took place on its 
being proclaimed that the child, 
then in the act of having its 
food, had become the king of 
England. A clean bib was 
instantly brought, and he was 
apostrophised as a little " Kingsey Pingsey," a "Monarchy Ponarchy," 
and was addressed by many other of those titles of affectionate loyalty 
which are to be found nowhere but in the nursery dialect. A Par- 
liament was summoned to meet in November, 1422, and, the regency 
being a good thing, there commenced a desperate struggle as to who 
should be allowed to have and to hold the baby. The Duke of 
Gloucester claimed the post of nurse, in the absence of his elder 
brother, the Duke of Bedford. The lords named the latter President 
of the Council, but while he was away the former was permitted to 
act as his deputy, and, what was more to Gloucester's purpose, he 
was allowed to receive the salary of £5333 per annum. Having got 
the money and the power, Gloucester was not particularly anxious to 
have the charge of the royal baby, who was accordingly handed over 
to the Earl of Warwick, jointly with Henry Beaufort, Bishop of 
"Winchester, a half-brother of Henry the Fourth, who had also a high 
seat — convenient, by-the-way, for the infant king — in the council, 




254 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [l300K IV 

This Beaufort was the second son of John of Gaunt, and founder 
of the illustrious family of the Beauforts, who derive their original 
nobility from an ancestor who was beau and fort — strong as well as 
good-looking. If aristocracy in these days were derivable from the 
same source, the handsome and brawny drayman might take his 
seat in the House of Lords, while ticket-porters, coalheavcrs, railway 
navigators, and other representatives of the physical force party 
would constitute an extensive peerage, of what dramatic authors, 
when they write for the gallery, are in the habit of apostrophising as 
" Nature's noblemen," The Beauforts, besides the good looks and 
strength of their founder, had collateral claims to muscular eminence. 
The uncle of the first Beaufort was called John of Gaunt, from his 
gaunt or gigantic stature ; and one of the family had been, in 1397, 
created Duke of Somerset, most likely on account of the somersets 
he was able to turn by sheer force of sinew. 

We beg pardon for this slight digression, but as there are many 
who take a deep and reverential interest in everything appertaining 
to rank, it may be gratifying to them to know the precise origin of 
some of our most ancient and most aristocratic families. 

Let us then resume the thread of our history. Bedford was still 
in France, and, in the month of October, King Charles the Sixth 
expired at Paris. The dauphin was at Auvergne, with a set of six 
or seven seedy followers, who could not muster the means of pro- 
claiming him in a respectable manner. They hurried off altogether 
to a little roadside chapel, and having one banner among the whole 
lot, with the French arms upon it, they raised it amid feeble shouts 
of "Long live the king," aided by a few "hurrahs" from some 
urchins on the exterior of the building. This farce having been per- 
formed, and the title given to it of " The proclamation of Charles the 
Seventh," the party repaired to luncheon at the king's lodgings. 
Having come into a little money by the death of his father, he went 
with a few friends to Poictiers, where a coronation, upon a limited 
scale, was performed, at an expense exceedingly moderate. 

While this contemptible affair was going on in a French province, 
the Duke of Bedford was busy, in Paris, getting up a demonstration 
in favour of the infant Henry. Fealty was sworn towards the 
British baby in various great towns of France ; and Bedford, anxious 
to cement the alliance with Burgundy, married the duke's sister, 
Anne; though it seems strange that he should have calculated upon 
a marriage as a source of harmony. He must have had a strong 
faith in wedded life, to have anticipated a good understanding as the 
effect of that which so frequently opens the door to perpetual discord. 

While Bedford was making strenuous exertions to promote the 
ascendency of the English in France, the nominal king of that country, 
Charles the Seventh, had given himself up to selfish indulgences. His 
energies were diluted in drink; but a few vigorous men, who were 
about him, forced him occasionally into thu field, from which ho 
always sneaked out on the first opportunity. He was compelled to 
engage in two or three actions, and was defeated in all, though he 
had the benefit of about seven thousand Scotch, under the command 



CHAP. III.] THE SIEGE OF IVRY. 255 

of the Earl of Buchan ; and threatened to cure his enemies of their 
hostility by administering a few doses of Buchan's domestic medicine. 
After two or three reverses, Charles thought his army strong enough 
to attempt to relieve the town of Ivry, which, in the summer of 1424, 
was besieged by the Duke of Bedford. 

Charles's force consisted of a strange mixture of Scotchmen, Italians, 
and Frenchmen, who were all continually giving way to their national 
prejudices, and quarrelling in broken French, broken Italian, or 
broken Scotch, — which is a dialect something between a sneeze, a 
snore, and a howl, spiced with a dash of gutturalism, and mixed 
together in a whine of surpassing mournfulness. The French declared 
the Scotch were mercenaries, who had an " itching palm ; " but the 
Scotch savagely replied, that " they came to the scratch with a true 
itch for glory." 

While the three parties were engaged in a vigorous self-assertion, 
and were loud in praise of their own valour, they caught a glimpse of 
the English force — and, halting in dismay, retreated without drawing 
a sword. The garrison of Ivry, which had been waiting the approach 
of its friends, who were to do such wonders, and had been watching 
the scene with intense anxiety from the battlements, could only 
murmur out the words " pitiful humbugs," and surrender at discretion. 

By some lucky chance — or, as other historians have it, by the 
revolt of the inhabitants — Charles and his mongrel army had got 
possession of the town of Verneuil, which was a very strong position. 
They had scarcely got snugly in, when the Duke of Bedford presented 
himself before the walls, and a council was instantly held, to consider 
how they should get out again. Everybody talked at once, and a 
mixed jargon of Scotch and French, flavoured occasionally with a 
little Italian sauce, was the only result of the deliberation of the 
gallant army. At length, by common consent, they ran away, pre- 
ferring to fight in an open field, if they must fight at all- — for there 
would then be more margin for escape, or latitude for bolting, in the 
event of their getting the worst of it. 

So rapid was their desertion of the town, that they left behind 
them all their luggage, which was perhaps a wise precaution, for 
they were thus enabled to run the faster, in case of having to execute 
a retreat, which was one of the military manoeuvres in which they 
had had the most experience. 

The two armies were now in presence of each other, and on both 
sides the feeling was like that of the young lady who "wondered 
when them figures was a-going to move," at an exhibition of wax-work. 
The Earl of Douglas, with Scotch caution, wanted to wait, but the 
Count of Narbonne, with French impetuosity, was for making a begin- 
ning, and rushed forward, shouting "Mountjoye St. Denis!" — which 
was synonymous, in those days, with " Go it ! " in ours. The whole line 
followed, helter-skelter and pell-mell, so that when they got up to the 
stakes the English had run into the ground — to show, perhaps, they 
had a stake in the country — the French were out of breath, out of 
sort? and out of order. They were miserably panting, but not 
panting for glory, and the punches in the ribs they got from tho 



250 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

English, made them roar out like so many paviours in full work 
— as they always are — down Fleet Street. Their temporary want 
of wind was soon changed into permanent breathlossncss, and 
thus, in spite of all their boasting, there was a miserable end to their 
puffing. 

The battle was very severe, for they had been " at it " for three 
hours. Douglas, it being before the time when " the blood of Douglas 
could protect itself," was slain. Buchan, who had been taunted by 
his allies with being nothing better than a buccaneer, also fell, and 
the French lost a countless number of counts, as well as a host of 
miscellaneous soldiers. The Italians, who had boastingly called 
themselves the Italian cream of the army, turned out to be the 
merest milksops, and kept as much out of harm's way as possible. 
The Duke of Bedford ordered the heads of several prisoners to be cut 
off, and the Bedford executions were so numerous, that the heads- 
man's axe got the name of " the Bedford level." 

The battle of Verneuil had been fought on the 17th of August, 
1424, and Charles the Seventh seemed on the eve of bankruptcy^ 
both in cash and credit. His money was all gone, and his friends 
had — of course — gone after it. Fortune, however, favoured him, at 
the expense of his enemies, for they began to disagree with each 
other. To say that there was a quarrel is equivalent to saying that 
there was a woman in the case, and the woman was — upon this 
occasion — the celebrated Jacqueline of Hainault. This prize speci- 
men of a virago was the daughter of the Count of Hainault, and the 
niece of John the Merciless, from whom she inherited all that coarse 
unwomanly bluster, which, in one of the fair sex, is called by courtesy 
" a proper spirit." She had been married to a little bit of a boy of 
fifteen, her cousin-german and her godson, — an urchin commonly 
known as John Duke of Brabant. Jacqueline, who was beautiful 
and bold, was no match — or, rather, was more than a match — for a 
stripling not hah way through his teens at the time of his marriage. 
The puny lad had got into bad company, and was surrounded by a 
set of low favourites. The masculine Jacqueline was not exactly the 
woman to submit tamely to any injury, and taking offence at one of 
her boy-husband's friends, she had him murdered. 

This stamped her as that most objectionable of characters, an 
acknowledged heroine, and she became "a woman of strong mind" 
in all the chronicles of the period. Her liliputian husband was per- 
suaded to retaliate by dismissing all his wife's ladies-in-waiting, upon 
which Jacqueline became a greater vixen than ever. 

After a powerful scene of domestic pantomime, in which she alter- 
nately tore her hair and that of her husband, she declared her 
determination to leave him. " A thplendid riddanthe," lisped the 
aggravating boy ; upon which Jacqueline, making another rush at 
his hair, and taking a large lock of it in her harnds — not, however, to 
be preserved as a pledge of affection — she hurried off to Valenciennes, 
and thence to Calais. The runaway next made for England, where 
she remained on a visit with Henry's queen, Catherine, at Windsor 
Castle. Here she soon began flirting wi'h the king's brother, the 



3HAP. III.] JACQUELINE OF HAINAULT. 257 

Duke of Gloucester, and though the poor man was not deeply in love 
with her, he was persuaded to agree to a marriage. 

Jacqueline being already the wife of another, was compelled to seek 
a dispensation from Pope Martin V., but he looked at the matter 
with an unfavourable eye, when Jacqueline, making a coarse allusion 
to her own eye and a female branch of the Martin family, despatched 
a, messenger to the opposition pope, the thirteenth Benedict. Being 
a Benedict he could not consistently oppose a marriage, and he 
granted the dispensation immediately. 

Gloucester, who had determined on making his new wife profitable, 
if she could not be pleasant, claimed without delay her possessions in 
Hainault, Holland, and elsewhere, which she had inherited. It was 
a few weeks after the battle of Verneuil, which we have recently 
described, that Gloucester and his considerably better-half — in quan- 
tity if not in quality — started off with a large army to take possession 
of Hainault. They soon frightened the inhabitants of the capital, of 
which they made themselves master and mistress, without any previous 
warning. Philip, Duke of Burgundy, the uncle of the boy-Duke of 
Brabant, was very angry at the lad's wife coming to cheat the boy, as 
it were, out of his property. After a good deal of hard struggling to 
keep his position at Hainault, Gloucester came to the determination 
that his wife was not worth the bother she occasioned him, and he ac- 
cordingly went home, leaving her to defend herself as well as she could, 
when she was instantly besieged, given up to the Duke of Burgundy, 
by the inhabitants of Mons, and sent to Ghent in close imprisonment. 

Neither bolts nor bars could restrain the impetuosity of this tremen- 
dous woman, who burst from her prison, and putting on male attire- 
which became her much better than her own, she escaped into Holland. 
It was not to be expected that a fighting woman would remain very 
long without followers, and the "Hainault Slasher" — as Jacqueline 
might justly be called — soon mustered a strong party in her favour. The 
novelty of going to battle with a woman for a leader told well at first, 
but as the attraction wore off her soldiers dwindled away by degrees, 
until her forces became utterly insignificant. Even her chosen Glouces- 
ter took advantage of her absence to treat his marriage as a nullity, 
and to unite himself with Miss Eleanor, the daughter of Lord Cobham. 
The desertion of the husband she preferred was in some degree com- 
pensated by the death of the husband she hated, for the boy-Duke of 
Brabant lived only until April, 1427, and thus, by the abandonment of 
one, and the decease of the other, she became doubly dowagered. 
Still she continued to struggle with the Duke of Burgundy, but she was 
now advancing in years, and her efforts became perfectly old-womanish. 

The summer of 1428 was the means of bringing her to her senses, 
for she was severely drubbed by the duke, and finally quelled in a 
career as unbecoming to her age and sex as it was mimical to her 
interest. She agreed to recognise Burgundy as direcu neir, at her 
death, to all she possessed, and he made her hand over everything at 
once, which was a capital plan for making sure of his inheritance. 

"We have, however, devoted to the Hainault vixen more time and 
space than she is perhaps worth, but we have thought it better to 

S 



258 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK T7. 

dispose of her off-band, to prevent so disagreeable a person from 
again intruding berself on tbe pages of our history. 

From tbe time tbe Englisb took possession of Paris, Orleans, like a 
ripe and tempting Orleans plum, bad been tbe object of tbeir desires. 
Tbe Frencb knew tbe importance of tbe place, and bad concentrated 
witbin it ammunition, eatables, and stores of every description. Bar- 
rels of beef, and barrels of gunpowder — bams and jams — wine for tbe 
garrison and grape for tbe foe — preserves for themselves and destruc- 
tives for tbeir enemies, were laid up in abundance in tbe city of Orleans. 
In addition to all tbese articles, enormous supplies of corn bad been 
poured into tbe place, which contained something superior even to tbe 
corn, for it beld all tbe flower of tbe Frencb nobility. Kegardless of 
tbese facts, tbe Earl of Salisbury began to attack tbe city, and the 
Englisb commenced an attempt to scale the walls, but having some 
missiles thrown at them from above, those engaged in the scale soon 
lost their balance. Salisbury, nevertheless, persevered by attacking 
some other point ; but the garrison determined to pay him off, and 
having recourse to their shells, they shelled out with such effect as to 
kill the English leader. Salisbury was succeeded by the Earl of Suf- 
folk, who employed the winter of 1428 in cutting trenches round tbe 
city, and throwing up redoubts, which rendered him very redoubtable. 

Orleans was thus cut off from the chance of further supplies, and 
the awful words, " When that's all gone you'll have no more," began 
to be whispered into the ears of the inhabitants. Charles himself 
was for surrendering, and several mealy-mouthed courtiers, who feared 
they should soon be without a meal for their mouths, seconded the 
king in his pusillanimous project. Others were for holding out instead 
of giving in, and Charles's fortune seemed to be at the lowest ebb, 
when a letter arrived from one of the posts to announce tbe pros- 
pect of an early delivery. This early delivery was not, however, to be 
looked for by tbe mail, but by that illustrious female, Joan of Arc, 
familiarly known as the Maid of Orleans. 

Charles, who bad little faith in the power of a female to get one 
out of a scrape, and who believed the tendency of the interference of 
the sex to be a good deal the other way, burst out into a fit of im- 
moderate laughter at hearing tbe news that had been brought to him. 
" Never laughed so much in my life," occasionally ejaculated the 
French king, as tbe tears rolled down his cheeks, in double-distilled 
drops of tbe extract of merriment. He, nevertheless, granted her per- 
mission to give him a look-in when she was coming that way ; but it 
was more from curiosity, or to have another hearty laugh at tbe 
Maid's expense, that he consented to an interview. Joan arrived, with 
her squires and four servants; but even this retinue, small as it was, 
must have been larger than her narrow circumstances could have fairly 
warranted. The two squires could have got in the service of two 
knights a certain sum per day, and the four servants, at a time when 
war was being waged, might have obtained better wages than a poor 
and friendless girl would possibly have paid to them. These, or similar 
reflections, occurred to some of the people about the court of Charles, 
who, considering that Joan must be an impostor, advised his majesty 



; 



CHAP. III. 1 JOAN OF ARC. 259 



j 



to have nothing to do with her. At all events, it was deemed as well 
that her previous history should be known ; and as the reader may 
wish for the character of the Maid, before permitting her to engage 
even his attention, we will, at once, say what we know concerning her. 

Joan was the child of a brace of peasants, in a wild and hilly dis- 
trict of Lorraine, on the borders of Champagne, a country of which 
she seems in a great degree to have imbibed the qualities. Living in 
the neighbourhood of the sparkling and effervescing Champagne, her 
head became turned, or, at least, began to be filled with those bold 
aspirations which the genius loci might have had some share in en- 
gendering. It is undeniable that when a mere child, she delighted 
to roam about for the purpose of drinking at the great fountain of in- 
spiration, which Champagne so abundantly supplies, and she would 
often go on until she heard voices — or a sort of singing in her ears — 
which told her she was destined for great achievements. Her birth- 
place was a short distance from the town of Vaucouleurs, at a little 
hamlet called Domremy, into which faction and dissatisfaction had 
so far forced their way, that the children used to pelt the children of 
the next village with mud and stones, on account of their political 
differences. Joan's attachment to her native soil caused her to be 
among the foremost of those who took up earth by handfulls, and 
threw each other's birthplace in each other's faces. Being in the 
habit of holding horses at a watering-house on the Lorraine road, she 
frequently heard the conversation of the waggoners, and, amid their 
" Gee-wos ! " the woes of France were sometimes spoken of. Invisible 
voices now began to tell her that she was destined to set everything 
to rights, and to be her country's deliverer. 

Though her father called it " all stuff and nonsense," she had talked 
over an old uncle, a cartwright at Vaucouleurs, whom she persuaded 
of her fitness to repair the eommon weal, and the honest cartwright 
promised to assist her in putting a spoke into it. The brace of peasants 
were annoyed at the very high-flown notions of their offspring, and 
when she talked of going to King Charles, they asked her where the 
money was to come from for the purposes of her journey. Joan im- 
mediately had a convenient dream, appointing the governor of 
Vaucouleurs, one Sire de Baudricourt, her banker on this occasion. 

Under the guidance of her uncle, she visited the Sire, and told him 
the high honour her visions had awarded him, in naming him treasurer 
to her contemplated expedition. The Sire, not at all eager to become 
a banker on such unprofitable terms, refused at first to hear her story, 
or indeed to allow her to open an account, so that the first check she 
received was somewhat discouraging. He suggested that she should 
be sent home to her father with a strong recommendation to him to 
take a rod and whip all the rhodomontade completely out of her. Joan, 
however, cared little for what might be in pickle for herself while she 
was bent on preserving her country. She went constantly to the house 
of the Sire de Baudricourt, but he never allowed her to be let in, for he 
verily believed it would only have been opening the door to imposition. 

At length, more out of pity to his hall-porter than from any other 
motive, the Governor agreed to see that troublesome young woman 

S — 2 



2G0 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [lJOOK IV. 

who had given no peace to his bell since the first clay of her arrival 
at Vaucouleurs. After the interview, Baudricourt came to the conclu- 
sion that Joan was crazed ; but she declared she would walk herself 
literally off her legs, until they were worn down to the stump, if the 
Sire refused to stump up for the expenses of the journey. Some of the 
people beginning to believe the maid's story, she was enabled to get 
credit in Vaucouleurs for a few trappings as well as for a horse, and 
at the same time six donkeys, in the shape of two squires and four 
servants, consented to follow her. 

On the loth of February, 1429, the Maid began her journey, in the 
course of which her companions frequently came to the conclusion 
that she was a humbug, and on arriving at a precipice they often 
threatened to throw her over. At length, all difficulties being sur- 
mounted, she arrived at Chinon, near Orleans, where Charles was 
residing. "I won't see her," cried the king, upon hearing she had come ; 
" I am not going to be bored to death by a female fanatic. A man 
who believes himself to be inspired is bad enough, but there is not a 
greater plague on earth than a woman-prophet." At length, after 
being pestered for three days, he consented to grant an interview to 
Joan, who stood unabashed by the sneers of the courtiers. Every 
word that flowed from her lips had the effect of curling fluid on the 
lips of those who listened. Some would have coughed her down, 
others began to crow over her, and the scene was a good deal like the 
House of Commons during the speech of an unpopular member, when 
Charles, who was a good deal struck by the assurance of the Maid, 
took her aside to have a little quiet talk with her. 

" Well, my good woman," he observed, " what is all this? Let me 
know your views as briefly as possible." Joan explained that her 
views consisted of magnificent visions, but Charles declared them to 
be mere jack-o'-lanterns of the brain, w T hich were not worth attend- 
ing to. Nevertheless, the earnestness of her manner had its effect, 
and the king sent her to Poictiers, where there was a learned 
university, and, though Joan was rather averse to the fellows, she 
allowed them to question her. Some of them began to assail her 
with their ponderous learning, but she cut them short by acknow- 
ledging that she did not know a great A or a little a from a bouncing 
B. She declared herself, however, ready to fight, and tho learned 
men, who were not anxious for a contest with the Maid in her own 
style, pronounced a favourable opinion on her pretensions. To raise the 
siege of Orleans, and take the dauphin to be crowned at Eheims, were 
the feats she undertook to perform. As one trial would prove the fact, 
Charles consented to grant it. The soldiers, however, refused to fol- 
low her until they had seen how she would manage a horse, and they 
consequently all stood round her while she went through a few scenes 
in the circle. One of them, who acted as a kind of clown in the rin^ r , 
put a lance into her hand, which she wielded with great dexterity, while 
she was still in the performance of her rapid act of horsemanship. 

Joan having passed her examination with success, was invested 
with the rank of a general officer. In spite of her masculine under- 
taking, there was still enough of the woman in her disposition to 



CHAP. III.] SIEGE OP ORLEANS — JOAN OP ARC. 2(Jl 

induce her to be very particular in ordering her own armour and 
accoutrements. She had herself measured for an entirely new suit 
of polished metal, her banner was white, picked out with gold, and 
her horse was as white as milk when properly chalked for metro- 
politan consumption. The Maid looked exceedingly well when made 
up, and people flocked round her with intense curiosity ; for if even 
the man in brass at the Lord Mayor's Show will attract a caob, a 
woman regularly blocked in by block tin was a novelty that everyone 
would be sure to run after. Full of enthusiasm, she started off to the 
relief of Orleans, and the garrison, encouraged by her approach, sallied 
out upon the besiegers with unusual vigour, exclaiming "The Maid is 
come ! " and the result realised the old saying that " where there's a 
will, there's a way," or in the Latin proverb, possunt (they can) qui 
(who) videntur (seem) posse (to be able). 

With the aid of the posse comitatus the object was achieved, and it 
may, perhaps, have happened that the superstitious fears of the Eng- 
lish had much to do with the result of the battle. They declared that 
she was a witch, and some of them pretended to have seen her look- 
ing at them with great saucer eyes, which was, in those days, a test 
of sorcery. The sentinels at night got so nervous, that they used to 
be startled by their own shadows in the moon, and would run away, 
declaring that they were pursued by black figures stretched on the 
ground, from which there was no escaping. Others declared the stars 
were all out of order, and that they heard, the band of Orion playing, 
out of tune, at midnight. Some declared they had seen a horse 
galloping along the Milky Way, and they inferred that Joan of Arc 
sent her steed along it at full speed to keep up his milky whiteness. 

The English army had been completely panic-struck by the suc- 
cesses of Joan, which were owing nearly equally to the zeal she inspired 
in her friends and to the superstition of her enemies. She caused a 
letter to be written to the latter, in her name, strongly advising them 
to "give it up," and now she determined to give them a bit of a 
speech from the ramparts of Orleans. Taking her place on the top of 
a ladder resting against a high wall, she advised them to " be off; " 
" that it was " no use ; " they were " only wasting their time there ; " 
and recommended that, if they had business elsewhere, they had better 
go and attend to it. Sir William Gladesdale, an English leader, rose 
to reply amid cries of "Down, down!" "Off, off!" "Hear him!" 
•' Oh, oh ! " and the usual ejaculations which a difference of opinion 
in a crowd has always elicited. As soon as Sir William could obtain a 
hearing, he was understood to advise the Maid to " go home and take 
care of her cows ; " upon which Joan cleverly replied, that if " a calf 
were an object of care as well as a cow, he (Sir William Gladesdale) 
ought to be placed at once in safe keeping." The knight, finding the 
laugh against him, sat down without another word, and Joan became 
more popular than ever after this little incident. 

It was part of the plan of the Maid to work upon the imagination 
of the foe, and an amanuensis was employed to write another threaten- 
ing letter, in her name, to the English soldiers. The communication 
was thrown into the midst of them, and Joan, being anxious to know 



2G2 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [HOOK IV. 

what effect it produced, stood on the ramparts to overhear what fchey 
said to it. " Listeners never hear any good of themselves," and the 
Maid had the mortification of listening to some fearful abuse of her- 
self, which, perhaps, served her right, for her behaviour was, to say 
the least of it, exceedingly unladylike. Vanity became one of her 
most powerful incentives, and she took upon herself to disagree with 
the Governor of Orleans, the great captains, and all the military 
authorities, on points of military tactics. Joan was, in fact, a very 
impracticable person, but it was necessary to let her have her way to 
a considerable extent, on account of her immense popularity with the 
soldiers. She insisted on making an attack which was considered 
very premature, and, while leading it in person, she got knocked over 
into a ditch by a dart, which set her off crying very bitterly. A 
valiant knight picked her up and placed her in the rear, consoling her 
by saying, " There, there ! you're not a great deal hurt. Come, come 
• — dry your eyes. Don't cry, there's a good girl," and other words of 
encouragement. Joan, feeling that it would not do for a heroine to 
be found roaring and whimpering at the first scratch she received, 
soon recovered her self-posses si m, and was soon at the ditch again, 
but on this occasion it was less for the purpose of fighting herself 
than of urging on others to battle. 

The English, though they did not know whether Joan was a witch 
or a what, were nevertheless ready to fight her on a fair field, if she 
would give them the opportunity. Her voices had not, however, given 
her the word of command, and she found it advisable to put a poultice 
on her neck, which rendered it necessary that she should keep for 
some days as quiet as possible. Her voices were often exceedingly 
considerate in refraining from advising her to go to battle when she 
might have got the worst of it. In this instance they were accom- 
modating enough to give her the opportunity of nursing her neck for 
at least a limited period. The English waited a little time for the 
Maid, expecting that she would prove herself a " maid-of-all-work " 
by venturing to go single-handed into a very difficult place, but, as she 
did not make the attempt, they retired with flying colours. These 
colours, had they been warranted not to run, might never have left 
Orleans, but on the 8th of May, 1429, the siege was raised, and the 
reputation of the English army considerably lowered. 

On the strength of this event, Joan went to meet King Charles, 
who received her very affably, and the courtiers proposed inviting her 
to a public dinner. This honour she politely declined, for — like the 
celebrated Drummond — she was " averse to humbug of any descrip- 
tion " but that which she had made for her own use, and after-dinner 
speeches were matters she held in utter abhorrence. She objected 
strongly to that festive foolery which induces people who never met 
before to express hopes that they may often meet again, and which is 
the source of at least twenty proudest moments of about as many 
existences. Joan, therefore, urged her previous engagements as an 
excuse for going out nowhere, for she felt assured that if she encour- 
aged a spirit of jolly-dogism among the troops, they would soon 
become neglectful of all their duties. 



CHAP. III.J CHAlttES CtlOWKEt) AT UHfclttS. 203 

Charles, urged by the example of Joan, determined to do a little 
soldiering himself, and had his armour taken out of his box, the rust 
rubbed off, the shoulder-straps lengthened, the leggings let down, the 
breastplate let out, and other alterations made, to adapt it to the 
change in his figure since he had last worn his martial trappings. 
Though he took the field, it was in the capacity of an amateur, for 
his modesty — or some other feeling — kept him constantly in the back- 
ground, and after the battle of Patay, which was fought and won by 
the French, the cries of " Where is Charles? What's become of the 
king?" were loud and general. The Maid found him reposing on his 
laurels, or, rather, under them, for he had concealed himself in a thick 
hedge of evergreens, from which he declined to emerge until his ques- 
tion of " Is it all right ? " had received from Joan's lips a satisfactory 
answer. The object of her visit was to persuade him to accompany her 
to Eheims, to celebrate his coronation in the cathedral of that city. 
"It's not a bad idea," said Charles, " but premature, I'm afraid, and 
so at present we will not think of it." Joan would, however, take no 
refusal. On the 15th of July, 1429, the French king made his solemn 
entrance into that city. He was crowned two days after, and, though 
not one of the peers of France were present at the ceremony, it went 
off with quite as much spirit as anyone might venture to anticipate. 

Philip, the Duke of Burgundy, declined an invitation from the 
Maid, who pointed out to him the folly of fighting against his own 
king, when, if he wanted war, the Turks were always ready to fight or 
be fought, to have their heads cut off, or oblige anyone else by making 
the thing reciprocal. The Duke of Burgundy still kept aloof, but 
Joan continued to be successful without his assistance, and took 
several towns, chiefly from the readiness with which they were given 
up to her. Many of the people looked upon her as something preter- 
natural, and they even fancied her white banner was always surrounded 
by butterflies, though truth compels us to state that these fancied 
butterflies were probably harvest-bugs, which, at about the period of 
the year when the phenomenon was supposed to have been seen, 
were most likely to be fluttering blindly and blunderingly about the 
Maid's standard. Many of the French officers, jealous of her success, 
attempted to malign her character. No tiger could have stood up for 
his respectability more furiously than Joan defended her reputation ; 
and, indeed, she made so much fuss, to vindicate her fair fame, that 
we might have suspected her of impropriety, had not all the historians 
agreed in coming to an opposite conclusion. It was evident that 
Joan, having made one or two lucky hits, was anxious to back out 
before she damaged her reputation by failure. When asked what 
she would do if allowed to retire, she declared she would return and 
tend her sheep; nor did the cruel sarcasm of " Oh, yes, with a hook! " 
— which some courtier would throw in — divert her at all from her 
humble purpose. Having the rank of a general, she might perhaps 
have claimed the right to sell out or retire on half-pay, but she was 
anxious to return to her lowing herds, which caused Charles to say 
that for her to go and herd with anything so low, would be indeed 
ridiculous. Her voices, however, began to confuse her, and perhaps 



264 COMIC HiSTORT OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

to talk more than one at a time, as well as to say different things ; for 
on one day she would speak of resuming her humble occupations, and 
on another day would make preparations for smashing the English. 

Fortune seemed to have deserted the English in France, and 
Bedford, the regent — like others of his countrymen, when they found 
their numbers inferior to those of the foe — had the coolness to pro- 
pose settling the dispute by single combat. This ingenious device is 
like that [of the gamester who has but a single pound, which he 
proposes to stake against the pound of him who has a hundred more, 
with the understanding that if the party who makes the proposition 
shall win, he shall walk off with all that belongs to his antagonist. 
Charles was rude enough to make no reply to this offer, but about 
the middle of August, 1429, the English and French armies found 
themselves very unexpectedly in sight of each other, near Senlis. 
How they came to such close quarters no one seemed to knew ; but 
it is agreed on all hands, that both sides would have been very glad 
to get back again. Neither would venture to begin, and Charles re- 
quested to know what Joan of Arc's voices had to say upon such an 
important occasion. The Maid had unfortunately lost whatever 
voice she might have had, and could find nothing at all to say for 
herself. The king was eager to know whether his army might com- 
mence the attack, but Joan's voices said not a word, and as their 
silence was not of the sort which Charles considered capable of giving 
consent, he did not permit any assault to be begun by his soldiers. 
After looking at each other during three entire days, each army 
marched off the field by its own road, and nothing had taken place 
beyond the interchange of an occasional " Now then, stupid — what 
are you staring at? " between the advanced guards of either army. 

Though our business, as an historian, has taken us a good deal 
abroad, we must now return home, lest, in our absence, the thread of 
our narrative should have got into such a state of entanglement, as to 
cause ourselves and our readers difficulty in the necessary process of 
unravelling it. The Gth of November, 1429, was set apart for the 
coronation of the baby king, at "Westminster ; and, in a spirit worthy 
of the rising generation of the present day, his infant majesty insisted 
on the abolition of the protectorship. The notion that he could take 
care of himself had got possession of the royal mind ; but the sequel 
of his reign afforded bitter proof of the extent of the fallacy. In 1430, 
he embarked for France, but the privy purse was again in such a dis- 
graceful state, that the king had not the means of paying for his 
journey. The usual humiliating step was taken of sending the crown to 
the pawnbroker. We may here take occasion to remark, that though 
we frequently hear of the crown being put in pledge, we have no record 
of its being ever taken regularly and honestly out again. There can 
be little doubt that the people were unscrupulously taxed to rescue the 
regal diadem, which was no sooner redeemed than royal extravagance, 
or necessity, placed it again in its humiliating position. Had the same 
crown been transmitted regularly from hand to hand — or, rather, from 
head to head — it would have been perforated through and through by 
the multiplicity of tickets that from time to time have been pinned on to it. 



CHAP. IV.] 



BEDFORD IN DIFFICULTIES. 



265 



On this occasion, the jewels went to the pawnbroker's, as well as 
the crown, so that the regalia were huddled together as if they had been 
no better than a set of fire-irons. It is surprising, under all the 
circumstances, that the sceptre never figured in the catalogue of a 
sale of unredeemed pledges, and we cannot wonder that some of our 
sovereigns have chosen to rule with a rod of iron, as a cheap and 
durable, but a most disagreeable substitute. In addition to the means 
aheady alluded to, for filling his purse, the young king hit upon another 
mode of making money. Every one who was worth forty pounds 
a year, was forced to take up the honour of knighthood, and made to 
pay exorbitant fees for the undesired privilege. In this manner, many 
persons were dubbed knights, for ihe express purpose of making 
them dub up ; and there is every reason to believe that the word 
"dub" has taken its meaning in relation to pecuniary affairs, from 
the arbitrary practice we have mentioned. Those illustrious families 
who trace their genealogy up to some knight who flourished in the 
time of Henry the Sixth, will not, perhaps, after this disclosure, be so 
very proud of their origin. We have had in our own day one or two 
who have been dignified with knighthood by mistake, instead of 
somebody else, but those who had greatness thrust upon them only 
for the sake of the fees, were scarcely less contemptible. 



CHAPTEE THE FOUETH. 

HENRY THE SIXTH, SURNAHED OF WINDSOR (CONTINUED). 



EDFOED had for some time been 
struggling in France under the ex- 
treme disadvantage of shortness of 
cash, for the council being engaged 
in continual quarrelling at home, had 
become very irregular in sending re- 
mittances. He had gone week after 
week without his own salary, but he 
never grumbled at that until he found 
his army, from getting short of cash, 
beginning to fail in allegiance. Often> 
while reviewing the troops, if he com- 
plained of awkwardness in the evolu- 
tions, he would hear murmurs of 
"Why don't you pay us?" and on 
one occasion an insolent fellow, who 
had been bungling over the easy man- 
oeuvre of standing at ease, cried out, 
" It's all very well to say ' Stand at 
ease,' but how is a man to stand at 
ease when he never receives his salary ? " Upon another occasion, 




2GG com re msTonv of England. [book iv. 

Bedford had given the word to " Charge ! " when a suppressed titter ran 
through the ranks, and, on his demanding an explanation, he was 
told respectfully by one of his aides-de-camp that the troops thought it 
an irresistible joke to call upon them to " charge," when, if they 
charged ever so much, there was no prospect of their demand being 
satished. Bedford used to rush regularly every morning to the out- 
post, in the hope of finding a letter containing the means of liqui- 
dating some of the arrears of pay into which he had fallen with his 
soldiers. He w r as, however, always doomed to disappointment, for 
there was either no communication for him at all, or an intimation 
that "next week" — which never comes — would bring him the cash 
he was so eagerly waiting for. His repeated visits to the outpost 
usually ended in a shake of the head from the officer on duty, w ? hose 
" No, sir ; there's nothing for you," had in it a mixture of compassion 
and contempt, which are not always incompatible. 

Bedford, the regent, having left Paris, Charles thought that, the 
cat being away, the mice might be at play, and that the city would 
be unprepared if an attack should be made upon it. Beauvais and 
St. Denis opened their gates, but the Parisians were not so com- 
plaisant, and Charles, unwilling to resort to force, tried the effect of 
flummery. He issued proclamations, full of the most brilliant pro- 
mises to his "good and loyal city," but the inhabitants replied by 
hanging out an allegorical banner, representing an individual in the 
act of offering some chaff to an old bird, who was refusing to be 
caught by it. Stung by this sarcasm, Charles determined to make 
an attack, and on the 12th of September he commenced an assault 
on the Faubourg St. Honore. 

Joan threw herself against the wall, but could make no impression 
upon it, and she could only lament that among the French artillery 
there was no mortar to be brought to bear upon the bricks of the city. 
She then resorted to other steps — or, rather, to a ladder — and had 
reached every successive round amid successive rounds of applause 
from her followers, when she w r as stopped by a wound, which fairly 
knocked her over. A friendly ditch received the disabled Joan, who 
went into it with a splash, which caused all her companions to basely 
run away, lest they should participate in the consequences of her 
downfall. Drenched and disheartened, sobbing, and in a perfect sop, 
the Maid crawled out of the ditch and lay down for a little while; 
but suddenly rising, and giving herself a shake, she made another rush 
at the battlements. A few better spirits, ashamed of seeing the weak- 
est thus a second time going to the wall, joined her in her advance, 
but, meeting w T ith resistance, they rolled back like a wave of the sea, 
almost swamping the Maid, and carrying her violently away with them. 

Joan's influence had now begun to decline, for, though a heroine is 
popular as long as she succeeds, a woman who fails in her perform- 
ance of the part is always ridiculous. She had also lost the favour 
of the soldiers by attacking them behind their backs, for she had 
flogged them with the flat of her sword till she broke the blade over 
their shoulders. They openly called her an impostor, a humbug, and 
a do; so that, hurt in her feelings as well as in her neck, wounded 



CttAl'. IV.] 



JOAN RESOLVES TO QUIT THE ARMY. 



2G7 



alike in mind and body, she resolved to quit the army. She even 
went to the Abbey church, and, fixing up a clothes-line, hung her 
white armour before the shrine of St. Denis. Charles supposed the 
articles had been put there to dry after the soaking the Maid had 
experienced in the ditch, but when he heard that Joan, as well as 
her coat of mail, was on the high ropes, he determined to take her 
down a peg as gently as possible. She was persuaded to prolong her 
stay, or, rather, to renew her engagement ; and though, even after 
her military debut at the siege of Orleans, she had wished it to be her 
" positively last appearance on any ramparts," Charles had the satis- 
faction of announcing that she had in the handsomest manner con- 




Joan at the Walls t»f Paris. 



268 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

sented to remain in his company. A constant renewal of an engage- 
ment will dim the attraction of the brightest star, and Joan was 
evidently on the wane as a popular favourite. 

In the beginning of 1430 there was a slight cessation of hostilities, 
and Charles remained at Bourges, where he was suffering under a 
severe exhaustion of his means and a general sinking in all his pockets. 
At this juncture, Joan met with a rival in the shape of an opposition 
prophetess, for it is always the fate of merit and success to become 
the subject of base and paltry imitation. Catherine of La Eochelle 
was the name of the female counterfeit who adapted her inspiration 
to the exigencies of the time, and, knowing the king to be short of 
cash, she pretended to have fits of financial foresight. She was, in 
fact, a visionary Chancellor of the Exchequer, running about with an 
imaginary budget, and transforming Charles's real deficiency into an 
ideal surplus. She affected to hear voices and to see visions ; but the 
former were rude shouts of I.O.U., and the latter represented to her 
certain hidden treasure, which was hidden so well that it has never 
been found from that time to the present. She had the art of extract- 
ing money for the king's use from those who had any money to give, 
and a single speech from her mouth was sufficient to fill with coin 
any soup-plate or saucer that might be handed round to the audience. 
She boasted that she could talk every penny out of the purses of her 
hearers, and whenever she appeared, there was a general cry of 
" Take care of your pockets ! " 

Joan called her an impostor, and was called " another " in return ; 
but it was said by a quaint writer of the period that, whatever the 
Maid of Orleans might have done with the sword, the tongue of 
Catherine would give an antagonist a more complete licking than the 
most formidable weapon. Charles was attracted by the financial 
fanatic, but, still wishing to propitiate Joan, he ennobled her family, 
and declared that her native village of Domremy should for ever be 
exempt from taxes. It thus became one of the greatest rights of this 
place to forget the whole of its duties. 

At the opening of the spring, the French king advanced again 
towards Paris with two prophetesses in his suite, but, as two of a 
trade never agree — particularly if they happen to be of the gentler 
sex — the two young ladies were constantly quarrelling. It is probable 
that the presence of Catherine was the cause of putting Joan upon 
her mettle, for she marched to the relief of Compiegne with all her 
accustomed spirit. She had made up her mind to a repetition of 
the hit she had made at Orleans, but Victory did not answer her 
call or show any disposition to wait upon her. Joan fought with 
valour, but her soldiers had no sooner met the foe than they agreed 
that the chances were against them, and that the only way to bring 
themselves round was to turn immediately back, a manoeuvre which 
was performed by one simultaneous movement. Joan tried to rally 
them, but they were too far gone, and while she kept her face to the 
enemy, her old disaster befell her, for she backed into one of those 
ditches in which all her military exploits seemed doomed to ter- 
minate. There being no humane member of society, or member of 



CHAI\ IV.] JOAN A PBISONEK. 269 

the Humane Society, to give her the benefit of a drag from the 
water in which she was immersed, she was soon surrounded by her 
enemies. Her own companions had fled into the city and shut the 
gates upon her, against which she had not the strength to knock, 
when, mournfully murmuring out, " Alas ! I am not worth a rap," 
she surrendered to her opponents. The sensation created by the 
capture of Joan of Arc was actually prodigious. The captains ran 
out of their positions, and the men left their ranks to have a peep at 
her. Duke Philip paid her a visit at her lodgings, in the presence 
of old Monstrelet, who was either so deaf, or so stupid, or so 
thunderstruck, that he could not relate what passed at the interview. 
The ungrateful French made no effort to release the Maid, and, 
indeed, there seemed to be a feeling of satisfaction at having got rid 
of her. Her captors showed a strong disposition to make much of 
her by turning the celebrated prophetess to a profit, and the person 
to whom she had surrendered — the Bastard of Vendome — sold her out 
and out to John of Luxembourgh. Friar Martin pretended to have a 
lien upon her ; but John, refusing to have the lot put up again, and 
resold — in accordance with the usual practice in cases of dispute — 
cleared her off to a strong castle of his own in Picardy. Another pre- 
tended mortgagee of the Maid then started up in the person of the 
Bishop of Beauvais, who claimed her on behalf of the University of 
Paris. John of Luxembourgh disposed of her to his holiness for ten 
thousand francs, rather than have any further trouble. 

Poor Joan was committed to prison on the charge of witchcraft, and 
as a kind of preliminary to the proceedings in her own case, a woman 
who believed in the Maid was burned, pour encourager les mitres who 
might put faith in her inspiration. The fate of Joan was for some 
time very uncertain ; but the learned doctors of the University of 
Paris, and other high authorities, recommended her being burned at 
once, which would save the trouble and expense of a previous trial. 
The Bishop of Beauvais, who had become the proprietor, by purchase, 
of the illustrious captive, recommended the adoption of regular legal 
proceedings. Priests and lawyers and lettered men were summoned 
from far and near ; many of the legal gentlemen being specially re- 
tained, and all being practised in the art of cross-examination, to 
which Joan was subjected by those who conducted the case for the 
prosecution. Her trial was, throughout, a disgraceful exhibition of fo- 
rensic chicanery, for her opponents attempted to puzzle her with hard 
words, which, in spite of her being charged with magic spells, she 
had not the power of spelling. The pleadings were shamefully com- 
plicated ; but she defended herself with spirit, and occasionally con- 
founded the doctors, who were confounded knaves, for they tried to 
take every advantage of her unfortunate position. Sixteen days were 
consumed in taking the evidence, and Joan sometimes made a point 
in her own favour, when the Bishop of Beauvais, sinking the dignity 
of the judge in the temporary office of usher, began to call lustily for 
eiience ; and, according to the modern practice of the officer of the 
ccurt, making more noise than everyone else by the loudness of his 
vociferations. 



270 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND 



[BOOK IV. 



The bishop shouted and resorted to other ungentlemanly expe- 
dients, during the entire day, to damage the cause of Joan, who, 
nevertheless, proceeded as if in the midst of that silence which the 
usher in Westminster Hall is continually disturbing by loudly calling 
for. It was contended, on the part of the prosecution, that there was 
magic in her banner ; but Joan, who had served the other side with 
notice to produce the banner, declared there was nothing particular 
in any part of it. The pole belonging to it was as plain as any other 
pike-staff, and the banner itself was formed of a cheap material, 
which Joan declared was all stuff ; so that the banner was, of neces- 
sity, waived by her enemies. Her judges, nevertheless, declared 
there was sufficient evidence to support a charge of heresy, and began 
to deliberate on the manner of her punishment. While some recom- 
mended fire, others threw cold water upon it, and French, as well as 
English writers, have laboured to prove, that their countrymen, at 
least, were averse to a proceeding from which the term "burning 




Joan trying it on. 



Having 



Bhaine " no doubt took the signification it bears at present, 
already found her guilty, her persecutors tried their utmost to urge 
her to acknowledge her guilt, for in the absence of proof, it was 
thought advisable to get at least a confession. 

At length, on the 24th of May, 1431, the Maid was brought up to 



CHAP. IV.] EXECUTION OF JOAN OF ARC. 271 

hear her sentence, and the Bishop of Beauvais, taking out a pile of 
papers, endorsed re Joan of Arc, declared himself ready to deliver 
his judgment. An opportunity was, however, allowed her to stay 
execution, on giving a cognovit, or acknowledgment of every charge 
brought against her ; and such a document being drawn up, she re- 
luctantly permitted Joan of Arc, X, her mark — for she could not 
write — to be afhxed to it. Her punishment was commuted to per- 
petual imprisonment, with "the bread of sorrow and the water of 
affliction, " which consisted of a stale loaf and a pull at the pump 
once a day, as her only nourishment. 

She found very few crumbs of comfort in her daily crust, and when 
the water was brought to her, she declared it to be very hard, which 
was certainly better than soft for drinking. It was a portion of her 
punishment to resume her female attire, which caused her consider- 
able annoyance, and a soldier's dress having been left in her prison, 
she was one morning discovered wearing it. Her jailer, on entering, 
charged her with " trying it on," but added that it was anything but 
fitting, and told her that she would certainly be overhauled when he 
reported that he had seen her in a pair of military overalls. The 
circumstance was instantly turned against her, and the putting on of 
male attire, which she had worn before, was declared to be a revival 
of the old suit, to which she had been liable. Her re-appearance in 
the soldier's dress was looked upon as a proof of uniform opposition 
to the authorities; and her offence was described as "relapsed 
heresy," or double guilt, like the "one cold caught on the top of 
t'other" by the boy who had been suffering under several layers of 
those disagreeable visitors. Judgment was now finally entered up 
against the ill-used Maid, who, on the 30th of May, 1431, was brought 
in a cart to the market-place and burned at Bouen. 

We would gladly draw a veil over the fate of poor Joan ; but we 
are unwilling to spare those who were accessory to it, from the odium 
which increases whenever the facts are repeated. Cardinal Beaufort 
and some of the bishops who had been instrumental to the murder of 
the Maid, began to whimper when the ceremony commenced, and to 
find it more than their susceptible natures could bear to witness. 
They had ordered the atrocity that was about to take place ; but 
conscience had made them such arrant cowards, that they had not 
the courage to witness the carrying out of their own savage sugges- 
tions. If persons so hard-hearted as themselves could feel so much 
affected by the sacrifice they had ordered, we may imagine what 
opinion ought to be entertained of them for commanding an act of 
atrocity which they dared not remain to contemplate. 

The conduct of Charles in not interfering on Joan's behalf, is even 
more cruel and despicable than that of her avowed enemies. The 
French king finding the Maid of no further use, came practically to a 
free translation of Non cget arcu (there is no want of a loan of Arc) , 
and left her to the fate that awaited her. It would have been nothing 
but policy to have insured her life, which he might easily have done, 
even when she was threatened with burning, and her case became 
doubly hazardous. 



272 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [dOOK IV 

The English were very anxious to get up a sensation in France by 
way of diverting the public mind from the fate of the Maid of Orleans. 
A coronation, which is always one of the best cards to play, being 
good for a king or queen at the least, was thought of and resolved 
upon. The affair was intended to eclipse the ceremony of which 
Charles had been the hero and Joan of Arc the heroine. Young 
Henry, who had been crowned already at Westminster, and had 
therefore rehearsed the part he would be called upon to play, was 
brought over to Paris with all the scenery, machinery, dresses and 
decorations, properties and appointments, that had been used before, 
so that the coronation being in the r&pcrtoirc of costly spectacles, the 
expense of its revival was moderate. The performance took place in 
November, 1431 ; but though the getting-up was very complete, tho 
applause was scanty, and the attendance was by no means numerous. 
Cardinal Beaufort occupied a stall, and there was a fair sprinkling of 
people in the galleries ; but the principal character being a spiritless 
and most unpromising boy of nine, the spectacle excited very little 
interest. 

Things remaining in France in a very unsatisfactory state, Charles 
and Philip of Burgundy came to the resolution that it was folly to 
go on cutting one another's throats, and they consequently effected 
a compromise. Philip got the best of the bargain, which was 
solemnised by a great deal of swearing and unswearing ; for as the 
parties had previously exchanged oaths of hostility toward each other, 
it was necessary to take the sponge and wipe out former affidavits, 
as well as to supply the blank with new oaths of an opposite char- 
acter. There was a mutual interchange of perjury ; and posterity, 
on looking at the respective culpabilities of the two parties, can only 
come to the conclusion, that they were bcaucoup d'un bcaucoup, or 
much of a muchness. 

The Duke of Bedford did not live long after this treaty, but died of 
indigestion, and considering that he had eaten an enormous quantity 
of his own words, the result is by no means marvellous. He finished 
up his existence at Bouen, on the 14th of September, 1435, having 
swallowed a parcel of his own oaths, some of which are supposed to 
have stuck in his throat, and caused his dissolution. The English in 
France soon felt the fatal consequences of being without a chief, for 
the columns of an army, like the columns of a journal, are incomplete 
without a leader. Deprived of Bedford, the English soldiers could 
no longer hold Paris — or, rather, Paris could no longer hold them — - 
and they were consequently forced to surrender. The Duke of York 
succeeded to the command in France — if he can be said to have suc- 
ceeded who failed in almost everything. A succession of reverses was 
the only thing approaching to success which he experienced ; and a 
supersedeas was soon issued to overturn his commission. 

Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, did something towards restoring the 
English ascendency in France ; but Philip of Burgundy thought he 
would try his hand at a siege, and fixedt upon Calais as being the most 
convenient. Tl\e Duke of Gloucester, hearing he had a tremendous 
army assembled in front of the town, sent over to Philip an offer to 



CHAP. IV.] HENRY MARRIES MARGARET OF ANJOU. 275 

fight him. " Only stop there till I get at you," were Gloucester's 
words ; to which Burgundy replied, that he should be happy to wait 
the English duke's convenience. Four days, however, before the 
latter landed, the former was seized with a panic — and, taking 
suddenly to his heels, his thirty thousand men scampered wildly 
after him. Philip, who had set the example, and must have been 
flighty to have commenced such an insane flight, was completely run 
off his legs by the ruck of fugitives in his rear ; and he was swept 
into the very heart of Flanders, before he could ascertain what his 
soldiers were driving at. Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, did something 
towards retrieving the falling fortunes of the English ; but, as both 
parties were getting into a nervous state — running away through sheer 
panics, crying out before they were hurt, and flying before they 
were pursued — a truce was agreed upon. It was for two years, to 
expire on the 1st of April, 1446, — and there could not have been a 
more appropriate day than that devoted to All Fools, to renew 
hostilities which were injurious to all parties. 

Henry, of Windsor, was now twenty-four ; but, though a man in 
years, he was still an infant in intellect. He was physically full-grown, 
but mentally a dwarf ; and what had been in childhood the gentleness 
of the lamb, became in manhood downright sheepishness. His con- 
versational powers would not have allowed him to say " bo to a goose," 
had it been necessary for him to address to that foolish bird that 
unmeaning monosyllable. Even his mother had turned her back upon 
him, as a noodle she could make nothing of, and had married Owen 
Tudor, Esquire, an obscure gentleman of Wales, who boasted, never- 
theless, a royal descent, or at least maintained that the Tudors were 
so called from being not above Two-doors off from such illustrious 
lineage. The Queen-mother had died, but had left a lot of little 
Tudors, under the care of 0. T., her bourgeois gcntilliomme of a 
husband. 

Henry being a mere nonentity, it was resolved to try and make 
something of him by finding him a wife of spirit ; as if small beer 
could be turned into stout by mixing a quantity of gin with it. 
Margaret of Anjou was selected for the formation of this deleterious 
compound. She was one of those intolerable nuisances — a fine woman, 
with a great deal of decision, which means that she was decidedly 
disagreeable. Her father was a nominal king of Sicily and Jerusalem ; 
but he had no real dominions, and only rented, as it were, a brass 
plate, or had his name up over the door of the countries specified. 
He was as poor as a cup of tea after the fifth water, and ruled over 
about as much land as he could cram into a few flower-pots which 
adorned the window of his lodging. He kept a minister who 
answered the bell and the purpose at the same time, and was 
accustomed to wait at table. His majesty's apartment was furnished 
with a sort of dresser covered with green baize, which formed a 
board of green cloth ; and he had several sticks-in-waiting in his 
umbrella stand. His robe de matin was his robe of state ; he had a 
green silk privy purse, and an ormolu cabinet. He had a keeper of 
the great seal which hung to his watch ; and his bureau comprised a 

T — 2 



27G 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV. 



Rocretary for the home department, in which he kept all his washing- 
bills. He dispensed with a master of the horse by keeping no horse 
of his own, and he always had plenty of gentlemen-in-waiting, in the 
shape of creditors. He saved the expense of a paymaster by paying 
nobody; and. though he issued Exchequer Bills, they were not only 
ut very long dates, but wholly unworthy of anyone's acceptance. He 
was his own Chancellor of his own Exchequer, for he used to declare, 
with much apparent integrity that his government should never be 
degraded by useless sinecures. " Whenever there is nothing to do," 
lie would philosophically exclaim, " I consider it my duty to doit." 
lie usually resided in Sicily when he was at home, but he kept in his 
court— at the back of his lodging— a few Jerusalem artichokes, to 




The King of Sicily and his Household. 

represent the interests of his other kingdom of Jerusalem. He used 
to make a financial statement every now and then, for the sake of 
clearing himself of his debts, which were the subject of an annual act 
of which he alone got the benefit. He used upon these occasions to 
profess a considerable anxiety to rub off as he went on, but his goings 
on and rubbings off were equally to his own advantage, and the cost 
of those who had trusted him. Never was political economy carried 
to such perfection as by the father of Margaret, the king of Sicily 
and Jerusalem. 



CHAP. IV.] DEATH OP THE DUKE OP GLOUCESTER. 2?? 

It was hopeless to ask for a dower with the daughter of a man who 
had what is vulgarly termed " a sight of money," which means that he 
could have put the whole of his income into his eye without any detri- 
ment to his vision. Instead of asking anything from a sovereign more 
fitted to be upon the parish than upon the throne, a trifling settlement 
was made upon him, that the king of England might not be said to 
have married the daughter of an absolute monarch and an absolute 
beggar. Anjou and Maine, which had been taken frvui him by 
main force, were restored to him, and a little money was advanced 
to him on account of his first quarter's revenue, to enable him to cut 
a respectable figure at his daughter's wedding. 

Suffolk brought home the bride to England, where she was, of 
course, severely criticised. For many she was too tall, and her 
height was an objection that could not be overlooked very easily. 
The friends of the Duke of Gloucester — known as the good Duke 
Humphrey — declared he would have found a better queen ; and Duke 
Humpm-ey paid her no attention, for he never even asked her to a 
family dinner, an omission which gave rise to a saying* that is still 
current. 

The good Duke Humphrey, though he gave no one a dinner, was 
anxious to let everyone have his desert, which made his royal high- 
ness very unpopular. His enemies began by charging his wife with 
necromancy, because she was in the habit of consulting the dregs of 
her teacup when turned out in her saucer — an act that was stigma- 
tised as sorcery. She was also proved to have in her possession a 
large wax doll, resembling the king, which she was in the habit of placing 
before the fire for the purpose, it was said, of sweating her sovereign. 
This was interpreted into a desire to see him waste away, and she 
was accordingly sentenced to perpetual imprisonment. Had she been 
able to melt the king himself as she melted his effigy, she might have 
been pardoned; but though the wax image was soft enough, he only 
waxed wroth when an appeal in her behalf was made to him. Her 
husband now became personally an object of persecution, and was 
arrested on a charge of treason, on the 11th of February, 1447, when 
he went to take his seat at the opening of Parliament. On the 28th 
of the same month, he was found dead in his bed, and of course the 
conclusion was that he had been murdered, though there were no 
signs of violence. There were various rumours as to the cause of 
Duke Humphrey's death, and despair, dyspepsia, apoplexy, and 
unhappy perplexity, or a broken heart, were equally spoken of as 
having occasioned his dissolution. It is strange that inanition was 
never thought of as a probable mode of accounting for the decease of 
Duke Humphrey, whose stinted diet has given to his dinners an 
unenviable notoriety. 

The old rival and uncle of the good Duke Humphrey did not long 
survive his nephew, for the grasping prelate died on the 11th of April, 
1447, at Winchester, where he had retired to his see, from which ho 
was to the last straining his eyes towards the popedom. 

* Dining with Duke Humphrey is a process that needs no explanation. 



278 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

Under the ministry of Suffolk the glory of England rapidly declined, 
and its possessions in France were daily diminishing. Parliament 
began to take the matter seriously up, and not a day passed without 
some awkward motion being made to embarrass the Government. 
At length, in January, 1450, Suffolk became so exasperated that he 
challenged his enemies to the proof of their accusations, which was 
equivalent to asking for a vote of confidence. The Commons replied 
by requesting the Lords to send him to the Tower, which they 
declared themselves most happy to do, if the Lower House would 
only send up a specific charge on which he might be committed. The 
Commons acceded with the utmost pleasure to the demand, and 
cooked up an accusation very promptly, for in those days such things 
were kept almost ready made, to be used at the shortest notice, for 
the purpose of knocking the head from off the shoulders of a minister. 
It was laid in the indictment against Suffolk, that he had been 
furnishing a castle with military stores; or, in other words, ordering 
a quantity of gunpowder to be sent in for the purpose of assisting 
France against England. Though the accusation was wretchedly 
vague, it was sufficient foundation for a warrant, upon which Suffolk 
was seized by the scruff of the neck, and hurried to the Tower. 
Fearing that one bill of impeachment might be insufficient, his 
enemies published a series of supplements. 

In his defence he noticed only the first set of charges, which 
accused him of a desire to put the crown on the head of his son ; a 
freak that Suffolk never had the smallest idea of practising. On the 
13th of March, 1450, he was brought to the bar of the House of Lords, 
and went down upon his knees like a horse — or rather like an ass — 
on the wooden pavement. He denied, ridiculed, and repudiated 
some of the articles in the impeachment, and accused the lords 
themselves of being his accomplices in some others. A proceeding 
which we can only characterise as a general row immediately took 
place, and the House of Lords became a perfect piece of ursine horti- 
culture, or regular bear-garden. 

Suffolk, though warmly defended by the court, was furiously 
attacked by the Commons, who declared they would not vote a penny 
of the supplies while the minister remained unpunished. The king, 
as long as it did not affect his pockets, was tolerably staunch towards 
his friend, but when no money came in, and the royal outgoings con- 
tinued to be large, it was found expedient to throw the favourite over. 
Every fresh bill that was placed on the unpaid file at the palace shook 
the royal resolution ; and when the eye of the king glanced over his 
huge accumulation of unsettled accounts, he began to think seriously 
whether it was not too great a sacrifice to lose his supplies for the 
sake of saving Suffolk. 

The favourite was gradually getting out of favour, and was sent, 
for by the king to a private interview, in the course of which it was 
intimated to the duke that he must be dropped, but that he should 
be " let down " as easily as possible. This private intimation kept 
Suffolk in a state of suspense considerably worse than certainty ; for 
it is a well-established fact, given on the authority of those who have 



CHAP. IV.] DISGPACP AND BANISHMEN OP SUFFOLK. 



279 



tried both, that a bold leap into the fire is preferable to a constant 
grill on the gridiron, or a perpetual ferment in the frying-pan. 

On the 17th of March Suffolk was again brought up in presence of 
the king, at a sort of judicial " at home," given by his majesty. It 
took place, according to some authorities, in the sovereign's private 
apartments ; but the chroniclers are mute as to which room — whether 
the two-pair back, the one-pair front, the salle a manger, or the salon 
— was the scene of the important interview. Suffolk threw himself 
once more at the feet of the king, who, it is to be hoped, had no corns ; 




Banishment of Suffolk. 

but Henry must have felt hurt at receiving a minister on such a foot- 
ing. Suffolk, still at his master's feet, endeavoured to hit upon 
Henry's tender points, but the sovereign was on this occasion influ- 
enced by the impression made upon his understanding. Ho ordered 
Suffolk into banishment for five years, and gave him till the 1st of 
May to pack up for his departure. The people were determined not 
to let the traitor off so easily, and no less than two thousand assembled 



280 Comic nisTORY of England. [book iv. 

to take his life, which he wisely abstained from placing at their dis- 
posal. He gave a farewell banquet at one of his country seats to his 
relatives and friends, and, upon his health being duly proposed as the 
toast of the evening, he swore, of course, that he was perfectly inno- 
cent. Finding it necessary to dodge the popular indignation, he start « m I 
off to Ipswich, whence he embarked for the Continent. 

On the 2nd of May, as he was sailing between Dover and Calais, 
his convoy — consisting of a smack and punt for self and retinue — was 
hailed by a great hulking man-of-war from the hulks, which bore the 
name of Nicholas of the Tower. This was a sad blow to the little 
smack, which would have gladly gone off had it not been most vigor- 
ously brought-to by the larger vessel. The duke was ordered on board 
the Nicholas, and after the ship had stood off and on for three days, 
it turned out that the vessel was only waiting to take in an axe, a 
block, and an executioner. This dismal addition to the freight having 
at last arrived, it was immediately put in requisition, and, as Suffolk 
was very unpopular, nobody took the trouble to inquire what had 
become of him. The only account that could ever be given of him 
was that he had been taken away by the crew of the Nicholas, which 
was a very old ship, and the announcement that Suffolk had gone to 
Old Nick was all that was ever said concerning him. 

We arc soon about to enter upon those Wars of the Eoses which 
planted so many thorns in the bosom of fair England. It is strange 
that out of coulcur dc rose should have emanated some of the most 
sombre and melancholy hues that ever darkened the pages of our 
history. " Coming events cast their shadows before," and the shade 
in this instance was one Cade, familiarly called Jack Cade by various 
authorities. This celebrated individual was a native of Ireland, who 
had served in Franco in the English army, so that he may be called 
a kind of Anglo-Irish-Frenchman, a combination that reminds us of 
the celebrated poly-politician, who, being desirous of being thought 
" open to all parties," with the view of being ultimately influenced by 
one gave himself out as a conservative-whig-radical. Jack Cade was 
a jack-of-all-trades, or, at all events, a jack of two, for he had been a 
doctor first and a soldier afterwards. Some have ironically contended 
that the change from a medical to a military life was only an exten- 
sion of the same business, and that, in resigning the bolus for the 
bullet, the powders for the gunpowder, and the lancet for the sword, 
he was only enlarging the sphere of his practice. With that remark- 
able deference for the aristocracy they pretend to despise, which is 
only too common amongst demagogues, Cade tried to claim relation- 
ship even with royalty, and, giving himself out as a relation of the 
Duke of York, he assumed the name of Mortimer. 

That Cade was a decayed scion of an illustrious stock may be 
doubted, and some, who have not been ashamed of an anachronism 
for the sake of a sneer, have gone so far as to say that the Cades were 
the earliest cads of which there are any records. 

It has been well remarked somewhere, by somebody, that the men 
of Kent, though living near the water, were always very inflammable, 
and the Kentish fire is to this day proverbial for its intensity. Cade 



CHAP. IV.] JACK CADE'S ItEBELLION. 281 

threw himself among these men, who made him their captain, and 
marched with him to Blackheath, from which he commenced a long 
correspondence with the Londoners. The Government, alarmed at 
an assembly of fifteen or twenty thousand men at a place where large 
assemblies were unusual, sent to enquire the reason of the good men 
of Kent having quitted their homes in such large numbers. Cade, who 
among his other restless habits, appears to have been troubled with a 
cacocthes scribendi, took upon himself to answer for the whole, and 
embodied their reasons in a document called the " Complaint of the 
Commons of Kent," which was of a somewhat discursive character. 
It commenced by alluding to a report that Kent was to be turned into 
a hunting forest, and remonstrated against the people being made 
game of in such a fearful manner ; it then proceeded to abuse the 
Government in general terms, which have since been the stereotypec 1 
phraseology of nearly all the friends of the people ; it complained of 
others fattening on the royal revenue, which forced the king to supply 
the deficiency by robbing his subjects, and to take their provisions 
wholesale as well as retail, without paying a penny for them. Allu- 
sion was then made to the lowness of the company admitted to court, 
though this seems to have been rather over-nice on the part of Jack 
and his followers. The document then came to the point, by inti- 
mating that the men of Kent had been subjected to extortion and 
treated with contempt, so that they had been, at the same time, over- 
taxed and under-rated. 

When the court received this elaborate catalogue of ills, it was 
intimated to Cade and his companions, that it would take some time 
to prepare the answer ; but the authorities thinking that powder and 
shot would answer better than pen and ink, set to work to collect 
troops and ammunition in London. Cade could not resist his pro- 
pensity to scribble, and sent in a second paper, headed " The Bequests, 
by the captain of the great assembly in Kent." In his new manifesto 
Jack required an entire re-arrangement of the royal household even 
down to the minutest domestic arrangements ; and it was even said, 
that not a pie came to the king's table without Jack wishing to have 
a finger in it. 

The court was now prepared with an answer in the shape of a 
large army, which advanced upon Blackheath, and caused Cade to be 
taken so regularly aback, that he jibbed as far as Sevenoaks. Here 
he halted, and waited the attack of the royal army, a detachment of 
which came up and went down like a pack of cards, though as they 
had lost all heart there is something defective in the comparison. 
When the main army at Blackheath heard the fate of the detach- 
ment at Sevenoaks, the soldiers suddenly began to object to fighting 
against their own countrymen. The Court then found it time to make 
concession, and commenced by sending a few of its own party to the 
Tower, in order to propitiate the malcontents. Lord Say, an obnoxious 
minister, who was not merely a say, but a tremendous do, was at once 
locked up with some others who had rendered themselves unpopular. 

Cade now made himself master of the right bank of the Thames 
from Greenwich to Lambeth, both inclusive, and made the celebrated 



282 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND [nOOK IV. 

incision into the latter, which retained the name of the New Cut to a 
very distant period. Cade took up his own quarters in Southwark, 
but went into London every morning, where he and his followers 
behaved very quietly for a few days, returning home regularly every 
evening to their lodgings in the Borough. Their first act of violence 
was to insist on the trial of Say, who was not allowed to have his say 
in his own defence, but was hurried off to Cheapside and beheaded. 
As too frequently happens with the promoters of the public good, 
Cade's followers could not keep their hands off private property, and 
a little pillage was perpetrated. Even Jack himself, who sometimes 
set a good example to his followers, was tempted to plunder the house 
at which he usually dined ; and the citizens, feeling that as the 
spoons were beginning to go, their turn would probably be next, 
became indignant at the outrage. They consequently refused admis- 
sion to Cade the next morning when he came to transact his city 
business as usual. 

It w r as next determined by the court to delude the rebels by an 
offer of a pardon ; and Cade caught at the bait with a simplicity less 
characteristic of a Jack than of a gudgeon. In two days, however, 
he altered his mind, and refused to lay down his arms or walk off his 
legs, until Government gave a guarantee for the fulfilment of its 
promises. With the customary hatred of each other, which too often 
prevails among the lovers of their country, the patriots commenced 
quarrelling. Cade began to fear that some disinterested friend of 
freedom w r ould sell him for the thousand marks that were offered for 
his head ; and Jack, from the idea of being apprehended, was thrown 
into a constant state of apprehension. Sneaking quietly downstairs 
in the night, he found his way to the stable, where he mounted a 
clever hack, and using what spurs he could to the animal's exertion, 
put him along at a slapping pace towards the coast of Sussex. He 
had not proceeded very far, when turning to look back on what he 
had gone through, he saw at his heels Alexander Iden, Esq. Jack 
had scarcely got out the words, "Is that you, Alick?" when a lick 
from Iden's sword revealed the purpose of his mission. " No, you 
don't ! " cried Cade, parrying an attempt to plant a second blow, and 
putting in a slight poke with his battle-axe very efficiently. Were we 
to borrow the graphic style of the sporting chroniclers, in describing 
a fight, we should say that Iden came up smiling, and evidently 
meaning business, which he transacted by enumerating one, two, 
three, in rapid succession on Jack's chest, followed up by four, five, 
six, on the face, and seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, in the 
stomach. Cade endeavoured to rally, but every effort failed ; and 
Alexander Iden, Esq., claimed the thousand marks that had been 
advertised. The amount was large for a head with very little in it ; 
but the tail, consisting of the riff-raff led on by Cade, formed the real 
value of the article. 

A dispute now commenced between persons of higher degree ; or, 
rather, it is to be suspected that Cade and his men had been used as 
the tools of some more exalted malcontent. It very frequently hap- 
pens that political agitators in an humble rank of life arc either cun- 



CHAP. IV.] QUARREL OF YORK AND SOMERSET. 2S3 

ningly or unconsciously playing the game of a political schemer of 
more exalted station ; and while they are supposed to be working for 
the overthrow of one tyrant, they are preparing the way for the estab- 
lishment of another. 

The Duke of York was the individual who, endeavouring to profit 
by the recent revolt, left Ireland, of which he had been Lieutenant, 
and forced himself into the king's presence. " Now then, what is it ? " 
cried Henry, annoyed at the sudden intrusion ; when York replied he 
had come to extract something from the mouth of the sovereign. "A 
tooth, perchance ? " ironically remarked the king ; but his majesty was 
informed that a promise to summon a Parliament was the utmost that 
York required. This was acceded to, and, when Parliament met, one 
of the members proposed declaring the Duke of York heir apparent to 
the throne, but the proposer was indignantly coughed down, uncere- 
moniously pulled out, and promptly committed to the Tower. The 
duke, discouraged at having a minority of one, which imprisonment 
had reduced to none, in his favour, repaired to his castle at Ludlow, 
where he collected a large army ; but, byway of proving that he had 
no evil intentions towards the king, he took, every now and then, the 
oath of allegiance. This periodical perjury had very little effect, for 
York was better known than trusted, and an army was sent against 
him. As the forces went one way to meet him, he came up to Lon- 
don by another road, but the gates of the City were slammed in his 
face just as he came up to them. "Well, I'm sure ! " was the indignant 
murmur of York, to which, according to an Irish chronicler who came 
from Ireland in the duke's suite, " You can't come in," was the only 
echo. Foiled in this attempt, he went to Kent, expecting Jack Cade's 
followers would rally round him, but beyond some half-dozen seedy 
scamps, belonging to the class excluded from kitchens under the general 
order of " No followers allowed," there were no adherents to York's 
banner. When Henry came up with him at Dartford, both of them, 
like two little boys who have met to fight and don't know how to be- 
gin, were anxious to negotiate. This was agreed to, and the duke hav- 
ing disbanded his army, by which, as the papers say when a theatre 
closes prematurely, " an immense number of persons were thrown out 
of employ," he went to Henry's tent for a personal interview 7 . The 
meeting was very unpleasant, for Somerset happening to be seated 
there, had the bad taste to assail York with a volley of vulgar abuse, 
which the latter repaid with interest. " You're a felon and a traitor, 
sir ! " cried Somerset, as York came in, which elicited, by way of reply, 
" You're an old humbug," and other taunts, among which " Who em- 
bezzted the taxes? " was rather conspicuous. As the duke was about 
to depart, a tipstaff tripped up to him, and, begging his pardon, inti- 
mated that he was in custody. Somerset would have applied for speedy 
execution, but York compromised the affair by a little more perjury, 
for he swore a good batch — sufficient to last him a whole year — of truth 
and allegiance. He then retired to his castle, where he may have 
amused himself with playing at "Beggar my Neighbour" with his 
porter, as far as we can tell, for his employment while in seclusion at 
Wigmore is not recorded in history. 



284 



COMIC niSTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV, 



Henry's utter incapacity to hold the reins, which were literally drop- 
ping out of his hands, began to give great uneasiness to the Parliament. 
York was wanted back, and Somerset was sent to the Tower, for the 
two rivals were like the two figures in the toy for indicating the weather. 
What brought one out sent the other in, and a storm was the signal 
for the entrance of York, while political sunshine was favourable to 




Quarrel between Somerset and York. 



Somerset. On the 14th of February, 1454, York opened Parliament 
as commissioner for the king, who was personally visited at Windsor 
by a deputation of peers, desirous of ascertaining his exact condition. 
They found Henry perfectly imbecile, and incapable of understanding 
a word or uttering a syllable. The deputation conceiving it possible 
that his majesty might be merely muddled, retired to give him time 
to come to, but on their return they found him in the same state 
as before, and ditto repeated on a third visit. The deputation, resolv- 
ing unanimously that " this sort of thing would never do," reported 
the facts to Parliament, and Eichard, Duke of York, was elected "Pro- 
tector and Defender of the realm of England." In about nine months 
Henry was declared to have recovered his senses, such as they were, 
and the court claimed for him the return of the reins, which had beeo 
taken out of his hands by reason of his incapacity. York was instantly 
put down, and Somerset again taken up to occupy the box-seat as 
heretofore. 

The ex-protector retired to Ludlow as before, but got together some 
troops, and poor Henry was put, or carried, or propped up, at the 
head of an opposing army. The duke having no fear of a force under 



chap, iv.] henry's recovery. 285 

such a tumble-down leader, met him near the capital, and sent a 
message, full of loyalty, to the king, but insisting on Somerset being 
sent back by return, to be dealt with in the most rigorous manner. 
An answer was returned in the king's name, declaring his determination 
to perish rather than betray his friend ; but it was the friend himself 
who assigned to his majesty this very disinterested preference. The 
sovereign was indeed so imbecile that he knew not what he said, and 
understood nothing of what was said for him, so that when he asked 
if he would not rather die in battle than hand Somerset over to the 
foe, an unmeaning grin was the only reply of the royal idiot. A fight 
of course ensued, and York got the best of it. Somerset was among the 
slain, and the poor king, who was as innocent of the use of a sword as 
a child in arms, got a wound in the neck, which sent him howling 
and reeling away till he took refuge in a tan-yard. York found him 
hiding among the hides, and pulling him out with gentleness, con- 
ducted him to the Abbey of St. Alban's. Every care was taken of the 
wounded monarch, whose neck was duly poulticed, and whose feet 
were put in hot water, though indeed they were seldom out of it. 

When Parliament met after this affair, theoretical allegiance was 
sworn to the king and prince, but practical contempt of their position 
was exercised. York was declared protector until Edward, the heir 
to the throne, attained his majority ; but Henry was superannuated 
at once, for he was liable, like a hare in the month of March, to fits 
of insanity. He was sometimes sensible enough, but no one could 
elucidate the date of his lucid intervals ; and as the sceptre is little 
better than a red-hot poker in a madman's hands, he was very 
properly deprived of that powerful instrument. 

Things had been thus arranged, when, on the meeting of Parliament, 
in 1456, after the Christmas recess, Henry, to the surprise of every- 
one, rushed in, exclaiming — " I'll trouble you for that crown ! " and 
" Oblige me with a catch of that ball! "—alluding to the orb which 
forms part of the regalia. No one disputed his restoration to sanity, 
and York resigned the protectorate, looking unutterable things, as if 
he had just been engaged in a speculation by which he had made a 
profit of eightpence and incurred the loss of a shilling 

The king now endeavoured to effect a reconciliation between the 
rival parties, who affected to make it up, but started at once to their 
respective castles, for the purpose of looking up materials and men 
for the renewal of hostilities. York sent his sword to the grinder's, 
his armour to the tin-plate-worker's, to be let out, pieced, and other- 
wise repaired — while the Lancastrian chiefs were, on their side, 
resorting to similar arrangements. At length they came to a battle, 
in September, 1459, and the Yorkists were in the better position, 
when Sir Andrew Trollop — either from blockheadism, or bribery, or 
both — deserted, with all his veterans, to the standard of Henry. 
York, taking a series of hops, skips and jumps over the Welsh 
mountains, fled into Ireland. He ran so fast, that the mussles of his 
leg were contracted ; and it was said at the time, that the York hams 
had as much as they could do to keep ahead of the Bath chaps, many 
of whom were engaged in the battle, from having lived not far from 



286 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

the neighbourhood. Warwick escaped to Calais, where he was ex- 
ceedingly popular, and he soon collected forces enough to admit of 
his landing in Kent, where he stuck up his banner with the view of 
collecting a crowd, and then touting for followers. The project was 
successful, and by the time he reached Blackheath he had got thirty 
thousand men at his heels, according to the old chroniclers, who, it 
is only fair to say, have a peculiar multiplication table of their own, 
and who, whatever may be their aptitude at facts, certainly present 
to us some of the very oddest figures. 

Warwick's reception was very enthusiastic. The archbishop ran 
out of Canterbury to meet him and shake him by the hand, Lord 
Cobham clapped him amicably on the shoulders, and five bishops, 
taking off their mitres, waved them as he passed in token of welcome. 
Warwick made at once for the midland counties, carrying with him 
the young heir of York, and meeting the Lancastrians at Northampton, 
a battle w r as fought which ended in the defeat of the latter. Henry 
was taken prisoner ; but his wife Margaret of Anjou escaped with her 
son Edward, and encountered one of those adventures which season 
with a spice of romance the sometimes insipid dish of history. The 
story we are about to relate is offered with a caution to our readers, 
but it is too good to be omitted, and we are, moreover, afraid that 
were we to leave it out for the sake of correctness, we should be. 
blamed for the omission. Use is second nature in literature as well 
as in anything else ; and the public, being accustomed to falsehood, 
would regard the absence of even the most flagrant hoax as a cur- 
tailment of the fair proportions of history. It is, however, only 
under protest that we can lend ourselves to the gratification of this 
very morbid appetite, and we therefore advise the following story 
on the authority of De Molevillc, to be taken not merely cxim grano 
sails, but with an entire cellar of that very wholesome condiment. 

The anecdote runs as follows : Margaret fled with her son into the 
recesses of a forest, like one of those which we see on the stage, where 
cut woods, canvas banks, and trees growing downwards from the sky- 
boarders, furnish an umbrageous recess of the most sombre character. 
We fancy we see her advancing to slow music, laying her child on a 
canvas bank, and listening to the rattle of peas accompanied by tho 
shaking of sheet iron, which form the rain and thunder of theatrical life, 
when suddenly a whistle is heard, and two figures enter whose long black 
worsted hair, wash-leather gauntlets, drawn broadswords, and yellow 
ochre countenances, bespeak that they are robbers of the worst com- 
plexion. The queen has, of course, all her jewels blazing about her, 
which the two men proceed to appropriate, and while they are 
quarrelling about the division of her booty, she contrives to escape. 

This brings us to another part of the same forest, where the scenery 
is not quite so elaborate, but where Margaret, leading on her infant 
son, stumbles upon a sentimental robber with a drawn sword in his 
hand, a tear of sensibility in his eye, and in his mouth a claptrap. 
She appeals to his generosity in favour of a " female in distress ; " he 
replies with some cutting allusions to the " man who — " compares 
himself to a melon, or a cocoa-nut, or anything else with a rough 



CHAI\ IV.] 



MARGARET AND THE ROBBER. 



287 



exterior, but with some sweetness or milk of human kindness within, 
and by way of climax, she exclaims, " Here, my friend, I commit to 
your care the safety of the king's son." The honest fellow — by whom 
we mean, of course, the professional thief and casual cut-throat — 
goes down upon one knee in a fit of loyalty, and according to the 
scholastic versions of this little incident he is " recalled to virtue by 
the flattering confidence reposed in him."* He went also a step 







Margaret of Anjou and her Child meeting the benevolent Robber. 

further, and at once devoted himself to the service of the queen, mag- 
nanimously offering to share her fortunes, which considering the 
desperate nature of his own, was a proposition equally indicative of 
self-love and loyalty. Her majesty accepted the offer, and embarked 
for Flanders, of course paying all the expenses of her friend the 



* See Piunock's edition of Goldsmith's History of England, p. H3 of the Ihirty- 
*fteond edition, 



288 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

sentimental robber, wbo became tbe companion of ber flight, and a 
pensioner on ber pocket. 

Fighting between tbe adherents of York on one side, and of 
Lancaster on the other, continued with unabated fury, until York 
having gained a victory at Northampton, called a Parliament, and 
walked straight up to the throne. He took hold of the hammer- 
cloth, as if to mount, and looked round as much as to say, " Shall 
I?" but no "bears," "cheers," or " bravoes," encouraged him to 
proceed. Another battle was fought soon after at Wakefield Bridge, 
when Richard, Duke of York, was killed, and his son Edward suc- 
ceeded to the title, which was very shortly afterwards exchanged for 
that of king, at a packed meeting of citizens. Tbe question was put 
whether Henry was fit to reign, and the " Noes " had it as a matter of 
course, when a motion that Edward of York should ascend the throne, 
was carried by a large majority. 

Thus he who was not yet of age, and who had been recently nothing 
more than Earl March, was in early March, 1461, voted to the 
sovereignty by the acclamation of the people. Bushing into the 
House of Lords, he vaulted in a true spirit of vaulting ambition on to 
the throne, from which he delivered a discourse on hereditary right, 
making out every other right to be wrong, and maintaining his own 
right to be the only genuine article. 

Poor Margaret made a futile attempt to rouse the loyalty of the 
citizens of London in a letter which she addressed to them,* but the 
style is so exceedingly vague, that we do not wonder at the document 
having proved ineffectual. As far as it is possible to collect the 
meaning of the epistle to which we have referred, it trounces the Duke 
of York in a style of truly female earnestness. It calls him an 
" untrue, unsad, and unadvised person," who is " of pure malice, dis- 
posed to continue in his cruelness, to the utterest undoing, if he might,' ' 
of the fair letter-writer and her offspring. Poor Margaret's state of 
mind may have accounted for the tremendous topsy-turviness — to use 
a familiar expression — of her sentences. The bursting heart cannot 
trammel itself by those fetters which grammarians and rhetoricians have 
forged to restrain language within its proper limits. That Margaret 
of Anjou was a woman of business is evident from a copy of one of 
ber wardrobe books now, in a state of perfect preservation, in the 
office of the Duchy of Lancaster. This private ledger of the royal 
lady would be a model for the accounts of modern housekeepers. 

It comprises a journal of payments even down to the accuracy 
of pence ; and her gardener's wages, put down at a hundred shillings 
a year, may be considered a fair criterion of the average scale of her 
expenditure. She laid out little in clothes, though she kept twenty- 
seven valets as well as a number of ladies-in-waiting, and " ten little 
damsels," whose salaries and persons were no doubt equally diminu- 

* This Jotter, which is to be found in the Harleian MS?., No. 543. Fol. 147. is nlsa 
given iu Mai v Anne Wood's interesting collection of Letters of Royal and IllustrioHx 
Ladies vf Great Britain. The letter of Margaret of Anjou forms the thirty -eighth 
in the first volume of the work alluded to. 



CHAI\ v.] 



EDWARD THE FOURTH. 



289 



fcivc. That her economy must have been wonderful, is evident from 
the fact that she did it all for seven pounds a day, which she regularly 
paid to the treasurer of the king's household. 

It has not often been our lot to begin with a new sovereign until 
we have finished with the old ; but in the present instance we must 
drop Henry the Sixth before his death, according to the example set 
us by his ungrateful people. We have, perhaps, lingered too long 
over the downfall of Henry, and we are warned by a sort of mental 
shout of " Edward the Fourth stops the way," that we must drive on 
with our history. 



CHAPTEE THE FIFTH. 



EDWARD THE FOURTH. 



DWAED, like the individual who having 
got such a thing as a crown about him, 
fully intended keeping it, lost no time in 
going into the provinces to enforce his 
claims. After killing twenty-eight thousand 
Lancastrians, and threatening a lesson on 
the Lancastrian system to anyone who 
might continue to oppress him, he returned 
to town, and was crowned on the 29th of 
June, 1461, in the usual style of magni- 
ficence. 

Poor Henry, the deposed sovereign, was 
carried about at the head of his adherents, 
to give them something to rally round ; but 
they might just as well have had a maypole, 
or any other inanimate object, for the 
ex-king was utterly imbecile. He could 
only be compared to a guy in the hands of 
the boys on the 5th of November; and 
sometimes, when his adherents were forced 
to run for it, they set him down to escape 
as he could, by which ho was occasionally on the point of being taken 
prisoner. 

Edward assembled a Parliament, which cut short all objections to 
the line of York by declaring that the three last kings of the line of 
Lancaster were intruders, and the grants they had made were of 
course reversed, in order to raise a fund for laying in a large supply 
of new loyalty. 

Poor Henry, to whom peace and quietness were necessary, would 
have been very well satisfied to retire into private life, had not his 
impetuous wife, the tremendous Margaret, dragged him about with 
her at the head of a few proscribed and desperate nobles. Shortnes" 




290 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [liOOK IV. 

of cash cramped the efforts of this impetuous female, who ran over 
to France, with the intention of hogging and borrowing from all her 
relatives. The Duke of Brittany gave her a trifle, but Louis the 
Eleventh pleaded poverty, and even produced his books to show that 
he had not a penny beyond what he required for his own necessities. 
"When, however, she talked of surrendering Calais, he produced 
twenty thousand crowns, which he had probably put by in an old 
stocking, and lent her the sum, with a couple of thousand men, under 
Peter de Brcze. 

With this assistance Margaret burst into the northern counties, 
and, pushing poor Henry before her wherever she went, thrust him 
through the gates of a small series of castles which she had taken by sur- 
prise. These were soon taken back again, and Margaret, being obliged 
to fly, lost all her borrowed money in a storm at sea, which washed 
all her property in one direction and herself in another. After a few 
minor transactions, the 15th of May, 1464, was rendered famous by 
the battle of Hexham, at which the hiding or tanning of the Lancas- 
trians was so complete, that Hexham tan is to this day a leading 
article of commerce. Margaret escaped to her father's court, but poor 
Henry, after wandering about the moors of Lancashire, had found his 
way to Yorkshire, where he had gone out to dine at Waddington 
Hall, when a treacherous servant, or a traitor waiter, delivered him 
up to his enemies. The unhappy Henry was turned into the Tower, 
which, under all the circumstances, was the best place for him. 

Edward, now adopting the sentiment of the vocalist, who, wishing 
to introduce a tender song in the character of a hero, modulates into 
a softer feeling by exclaiming, " Farewell, glory ; welcome, love," 
resolved on paying those devotions to the fair which a necessity for 
encountering the brave had hitherto rendered impossible. He had 
intended to marry some foreign princess, and Warwick had engaged 
him to a young lady named Bona, daughter of the Duke of Savoy and 
sister to the Queen of France ; but the king denied that he had ever 
given instructions to sue, and declined being bound by the act of his 
solicitor, who had solicited for him the hand of the fair princess. The 
truth was, that his majesty had formed other views, or, rather, other 
views had been formed for him by an old match-making mother, who 
exhibited all those manoeuvring qualities which constitute, in 
the present day, the art of getting a daughter off to the best 
advantage. 

The king, while hunting at Stony Stratford, pursuing a stag, came 
suddenly upon a pretty dear, who literally staggered him. The young 
lady was 'me widow of Sir Thomas Gray, and the daughter of Jacquetta 
of Luxemburg by her second husband, Sir Eichard Woodville, after- 
wards Earl of Eivers. There is not the smallest doubt that Lady 
Gray and her mamma had arranged together this accidental interview. 
The young lady, who seems to have been a finished pupil in the school 
of flirtation, entreated the king to reverse the attainder passed on her 
late husband, to which Edward replied, that " he must be as stony- 
hearted as Stony Stratford itself if he could refuse her anything." 
This rubbish ripened into a real offer of marriage, which was, of 



ciiaf. v.] 



MARRIAGE OF EDWARD THE FOURTH. 



291 



course, accepted, and Lady Gray was crowned Queen of England in 
the year following. 

Warwick was rather nettled at being, as he said, " made a fool of " 
by his royal master, and grew particularly jealous of the influence of 
the king's wife, who got off her five unmarried sisters upon the heirs 
of as many dukes or earls. He intrigued with the king's brother, the 
Duke of Clarence, and both of them, being denounced as traitors, were 
obliged to go abroad upon an order to travel. They visited France, 




Edward the Fourth meeting Elizabeth Woodvillc. 



where King Louis not only supplied them with board and lodging, but 
put Warwick in the way of a negotiation with Queen Margaret, which, 
it was thought, would be advantageous to all parties. It was arranged 
that another push should be made to push Henry on to the throne, 



U- 



2d { 2 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

but, as Warwick never did business for nothing, be stipulated for the 
marriage of bis daughter with the queen's son, Edward. 

Having reduced everything to writing, Warwick took his standard 
out of his portmanteau for the purpose of planting it, and on the 13th 
of September, 1479, he landed at Plymouth with a select but sturdy 
party of malcontents. The people, whose motto was, "Anything for a 
change," were soon persuaded to join in a cry of "Long live King 
Henry," and he was taken out of the Tower for the purpose of being 
dragged about as a puppet to give a sort of legitimacy to Warwick's 
projects. This nobleman had got the name of the king-maker from 
a knack he had of manufacturing the royal article with a rapidity 
truly astonishing. He could coin a sovereign to order with a dispatch 
that the mint itself might fairly be jealous of. He could provide a 
new king at the shortest notice, like those victuallers who profess to 
have "dinners always ready;" and Edward having got into "very 
low cut," Henry was "just up" as the latest novelty from the cuisine 
of the ingenious Warwick. 

When Edward saw what was going on he thought it high time for 
himself to be going off, and, with a few] adherents who had not a 
change of linen in their trunks nor a penny in their purses, he got into 
a ship bound for Holland. The king himself had no money to pay 
his passage, and offered the captain, says Comines, "a gown lined 
with martens," as a remuneration for his services. Edward fled to 
Burgundy, where he persuaded the duke to advance a trifle in the 
way of ships, money, and men, with which the ousted monarch landed 
at Eavenspur. On his first arrival the people held back, saying, " Oh, 
here's the old business over again. We've had enough of this," and 
employing other expressions of discouragement. He, however, 
declared he had no intention of unsettling anything or anybody — 
except his bills, which remained unsettled as a matter of course — and 
was allowed to enter the capital, where he was once more proclaimed 
sovereign. It is an old commercial principle in this country, that debt 
is a sign of prosperity, ar) i Edward's success has been attributed to 
the fact of his owing vast sums to the London merchants. They were, 
of course, interested in the well-being of their debtor, and the 
hypothesis was thus proved to be true, that he who is worse off is in 
a better position than he who is well-to-do, and the man whose cir- 
cumstances are tolerably straight, is not so eligibly situated as the 
individual whose affairs are materially straightened. Edward, though 
not in clover, was obliged to be in the field, for Warwick fell upon his 
rear with alarming vehemence. They fought at Barnet on the 14th 
of April, 1471, in the midst of a mist, when poor Warwick was not 
only lost in the fog, but many of his friends were killed, and Edward 
obtained a decisive victory. The particulars of this battle have never 
been very accurately given, for the fog and the old chroniclers were 
almost equally dense ; and between them the affair is involved in 
much obscurity. 

It is easier to quell sixty thousand men than to subdue one trouble- 
some woman, and Queen Margaret still gave " a deal of trouble " to 
the conqueror. She, however, ultimately fell into his hands, together 



6feAf\ V.J MENEY DIES IN Tlifi TOWEft. 293 

with her son — one of the "rising generation" of that time— who, on 
being asked by Edward what he meant by entering the realm in arms, 
replied pertly, " I came to preserve my father's crown and my own 
inheritance." — "Did you, indeed, you young jackanapes?" cried 




Field of Battle (in a Fog) near Barnet. 

Edward, " then take that," and he flicked the boy's nose with tbe 
thumb of a large gauntlet. The child set up a piercing yell, but this 
was not the worst of it, for some attendants, excited by the brutal 
example of their master, gave the lad a blow or two, which finished 
him. 

Edward returned to town, and sent Henry, with his queen, to the 
Tower, from which the latter was ransomed by her relatives ; but the 
former having no friends to buy him off or bail him out, remained in 
custody. He died a few weeks after his committal, and his death is 
attributed to the Duke of Gloucester, who from the peculiar confor- 
mation of his back, had shoulders broad enough to bear all the stray 
crimes for which no other owner may have been forthcoming. Ac- 
cordingly, every piece of iniquity that can be traced to no one 
in particular, is usually added to Gloucester's huge catalogue of 
delinquencies. 

The Lancastrians were now regularly down, and every opportunity 
was taken for hitting them. Some were driven into exile, others 
were got rid of by more decided means, and a few, whose talents were 
worth saving, got purchased at a valuation, more or less fair, by the 
new Government. Sir John Fortescue, the Chief Justice to Henry 
the Sixth and the greatest lawyer of his time, was sold in this dis- 
reputable manner ; for the judges of those days, unlike the pure 
occupants of the bench in our own, were as saleable as railway shares, 



S94 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV. 



and had their regular market price for anyone by whom such an in- 
vestment was desired. 

The prosperity of the House of York was now only marred by a 
quarrel between the Dukes of Gloucester and Clarence. The latter had 
married Warwick's eldest daughter, and claimed the whole property 
of his father-in-law, of which Gloucester naturally wanted a slice, 
and he struck up to Anne, a younger daughter, in order to derive 
some claim to a share of the family fortune. Clarence, anxious to 
baffle his brother, sent the young lady out to service as a cook, in 
London, when Gloucester — disguised probably as a policeman — found 
her out, and ran away with her. He won her by alleging his heart 
to be incessantly on the beat, and by promising her the advantages 
of a superior station. He lodged her in the then rural lane of St. 
Martin's, and the king ultimately arranged the difference between 
his brothers by assigning a handsome portion to Lady Anne, and 
leaving Clarence to take the rest ; while the widowed Countess o* 




Duke of Gloucester, disguised as a Policeman, discovering Lady Aime. 



Warwick, who had brought all the money into the family, was 
obliged to leave it there, without touching it, for she got nothing. 

In ] 475 Edward began to form ambitious projects with regard to 
France, and sent off to Louis the Eleventh one of those claims for the 
crown which some of the preceding kings of England had been in the 
habit of forwarding. The letter was written in terms of marvellous 
politeness, and Louis having read it, desired the herald who brought it 
to step into the next room, where he was treated with great affability. 
Louis complimented the letter-carrier in the most fulsome manner 






CHAP. V.] EDWARD LAYS CLAIM TO FRANCE. 295 

recommending him to advise his master to withdraw his claim as 
futile and ridiculous. " Bless you, he don't mind me," was the 
modest reply of the*herald ; but Louis remarked that the words of 
such a sensible fellow must have considerable weight, and slipped 
three hundred crowns into his pouch, with a wink of intense signifi- 
cance. The herald was regularly taken aback, and his bewilderment 
increased when his majesty, observing, " Dear me, what a shabby 
cloak you've got on," ordered three hundred yards of crimson velvet 
to be cut off from the best piece in the royal wardrobe. Garter — for 
such was the herald's rank — promised to do the very best he could ; 
for the velvet had softened him down, or smoothed him over, to the 
side of Louis. 

Edward nevertheless made extensive preparations to smash the 
French king, and strained every nerve to get the sinews of war, which 
he did by insinuating himself into the favour of his people. He 
emptied their pockets with considerable grace, and was the first to 
give the attractive name of Benevolences to those grants which were 
mercilessly extracted from the Parliament. Edward and Louis, 
though hating each other with the utmost cordiality, thought it 
prudent to negotiate — the former from mercenary motives, and the 
latter for the sake of peace and quiet. An interview was at last 
agreed upon, to take place at the bridge of Picquigny, near Amiens, 
across which a partition of railings had been thrown, to prevent 
treachery on either side. Louis came first, and looked through the 
bars, when Edward tripped gracefully up to the other side, bowing 
to within a foot of the ground, and paying a few commonplace com- 
pliments. Louis invited Edward to Paris, they shook hands through 
the bars, and the English king received a sordid bribe through the 
grating, "which," says the incorrigible Comines, "was exceedingly 
grating to the feelings of some of his nobles." 

Several cruelties disgraced the latter part of Edward's reign ; and 
one of the worst of his enormities was his treatment of Stacey and 
Burdett, two officers of the household of the Duke of Clarence. Stacey 
was accused of having dealings with the devil ; but if he had, it was 
only the printer's devil; for Stacey was a priest of the order of 
Whitefriars, and learned in the typographic art, which had recently 
been discovered. No proof unfavourable to Stacey could be pro- 
duced, but he was put to the torture by being made to set up night 
and day, which made him curse the author of his misery. Thomas 
Burdett, another gentleman of Clarence's household, was tried as 
an accomplice to Stacey, and these unfortunate men, having had 
their heads cut off, "died," according to the Chroniclers, "pro- 
testing their innocence." Clarence himself was the next victim, 
and on the 16th of January, 1478, he was brought to the bar of 
the House of Lords on a charge of having dealings with conjurors. 
It seems hard ; in these days, when tricks of magic are exceedingly 
popular, that a person suspected of conjuring should be pursued, 
with the vengeance of the law; and the hardship of the affair is 
particularly great in the case of Clarence, who was never known 
to make a plum-pudding in his hat, or perform any other of the 



29G comic history op England. [ 1;ook iv. 

ingenious tricks which have gained money and fame for the wizards 
of the present era. The unfortunate duke met all the charges 
against him with a flat denial, but he was found guilty, and sen- 
tence of death was passed upon him, on the 7th of February, 1478. 
His execution was never publicly carried out, and rumour has accord- 
ingly been left to run riot among the thousand ways in which Clarence 
might have undergone his capital punishment. The usual mode of 
accounting for his death is by the suggestion, that his brothers left 
the matter to his own choice, and that he preferred drowning in a 
butt of Malmsey wine to any other fatal penalty. The only objection 
to this arrangement appears to be that which occurred to an excellent 
English king of modern times, when he wondered how the apple got 
into the dumpling. However capacious the butt may have been in 
which Clarence desired to be drowned, it is obvious that he never 
could have entered the cask through its only aperture, the bunghole. 
When we witness the marvel of an individual getting into a quart- 
bottle, we shall begin to have faith in the story that Clarence met his 
death in the manner alluded to. If the wine was already in the cask 
before Clarence was immersed, there could have been no admission, 
even on business, except through the bunghole, and it is not likely 
that the vessel could have been empty before the duke took his place 
for the purpose of undergoing a vinous shower-bath. 

Edward led for some time a life of luxury, which was now and then 
disturbed by wars with Scotland, though he never thought it worth 
his while to take the field in person, but always got his big brother, 
Richard Duke of Gloucester, to fight for him. Matters nevertheless 
took a fresh turn when the Duke of Albany, brother of James the 
Third, came over and declared he was entitled to the Scotch throne in 
preference to his elder relative. " I mean to swear he is illegitimate," 
said Albany, and he offered to give up Berwick to Edward, on con- 
dition of an army being lent to depose the reigning sovereign. A 
marriage with one of the English king's daughters was also proposed 
by Albany, who " thought it right to mention that he had two wives 
already ; " but he did not seem to anticipate any objection on that 
account. Albany and Gloucester were successful in most of their 
joint undertakings, but they did not fight very frequently, for a treaty 
was soon concluded. Until this arrangement was carried out, Albany 
made every warlike demonstration, and produced a wholesome terror 
by the exhibition of a tremendous piece of artillery, familiarly known 
to us in these days as a cannon of the period. Its chief peculiarity 
was its aptitude — according to the engravings we have seen of it — 
for carrying cannon-balls considerably larger than the mouth of the 
piece itself, for w r e have often feasted our eyes upon very interesting 
pictures of a cannon-ball issuing from a cannon not half the circum- 
ference of the projected missile. Whether it is that in those days 
expanding ammunition was provided, which increased in bulk two- 
fold after leaving the cannon's mouth, we are unable to say at this 
period ; but the illuminations of the time undoubtedly present this 
striking phenomenon. The dust of ages lies unfortunately on many 
of our facts, and though we might, it is true, take up a duster and 



CHAP. V.] 



DEAfft op EbWAnb tfitfi FotJktii. 



•20? 



wipe the dust of ages off, there is a pleasure in the imaginative which 
the actual could never realise. 

Edward having been duped by his allies in France, on some matters 
almost of a private character, took the deception so much to heart, 
that he put himself into a violent passion, and died of it with won- 
drous rapidity. Instead of a raging fever, he caught the fever of rage, 
and died on the 6th of April, 1483, in the forty-first year of his age, and 
twenty-first of his reign. The assassination of sovereigns was then so 
common, that Edward the Fourth lay in state for some days, to show 
that he had not come to his death by any but fair means, for he was 
a king that merited severe treatment, at least as much as some of his 
predecessors ; and it was, therefore, presumed that he might have 
come in for his share of that fatal violence which it was usual to 
bestow on kings in the early and middle periods of our history. In 
concluding our account of this reign, we may, perhaps, be expected 




Cannon and Cannon-ball of the Period. 



to give a character of Edward the Fourth ; but, ex nihilo nihil fit, 
and upon this principle we are unable to furnish a character for one 
who had lost in the lapse, or rather in the lap of time, whatever he 
may once have possessed of that important article. 



298 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[DOOK IV. 



CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 

EDWARD THE FIFTH. 




"7 AD the crown been always adapted to 
7T\ the head on which it devolves, the 
diadem would have been in very reduced 
circumstances when it descended on the 
baby brow of the fifth Edward. Almost 
bonneted by a bauble considerably too 
large for his head, and falling over his 
eyes, it was impossible that the boy- 
king could enjoy otherwise than a very 
poor look-out on his accession to the 
sovereignty. He had been on a visit to 
his maternal uncle, the Eai*l of Rivers, 
at Ludlow Castle, but he was now placed 
under the protection of his paternal 
uncle, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, as 
a sort of apprentice to learn the business 
of government. Richard, who was at 
the head of an army in Scotland at his 
brother's death, marched with six hun- 
dred men to a maison de deuil, where 
he insisted on having ready-made 
mourning for his followers. The aston- 
ished tradesman, exclaiming, in the language of one of our modern 

poets, 

" Five minutes' time is all we ask 
To execute the mournful task," 

prepared at once the melancholy outfit. Richard led his adherents 
to York, where a funeral service was performed, and the troops, look- 
ing like so many mutes, completely dumbfounded the populace. Their 
conduct and their clothes combined — for their designs seemed to be as 
dark and mysterious as their habits — obtained for these soldiers the 
unenviable name of the black-guards of the Duke of Gloucester. 

Richard's next care was to swear loyalty and fealty to his young 
nephew — which went far towards proving the absence of both ; for 
those who wish a little of anything to go a great way, generally make 
the utmost possible display of it. Notwithstanding the continued 
show of attachment evinced by the uncle for the nephew, it soon began 
to be noticed that Richard was a good deal like a snowball, for he 
picked up adherents wherever he moved ; and as he went rolling about 
the country, he soon swelled into a formidable size with the band 
that encircled him. He, however, calmed suspicion by declaring that 
he was only collecting supernumeraries for his nephew's coronation. 
The fact is, that Richard was all the time plotting with that 



CHAP. VI."! EDWAKD LODGED IN THE TOWER. 299 

discontented fellow Buckingham, the well-known malcontent, of 
whom it has been justly said that he liked nothing nor nobody. 

Gloucester arrived at Northampton on the 22nd of April, 1483, 
about the same time that Eivers and Gray had " tooled" the baby- 
king by easy stages as far as Stony Stratford. The two lords came to 
Northampton to salute Eichard, who asked them to supper at his 
hotel, when Buckingham dropped in and joined the party. The four 
noblemen passed the evening together very pleasantly, for the song, 
the sentiment, the joke and the jug, the pitcher and the pun, were 
passed about until long after midnight. Stretchers for two were in 
readiness, to take home Gray, who looked dreadfully blue, and Bivers, 
who was half-seas over, while the two dukes, who had kept tolerably 
sober, remained in secret debate, for they did 

" Not go home till morning, 
Till daylight did appear." 

On the morrow, the whole party started off, apparently very good 
friends, towards Stony Stratford, to meet the young king, who was 
immediately grasped by his uncle Gloucester. 

The royal infant naturally gave a sort of squeak at the too affec- 
tionate clutch of his uncle, who, pretending to think that Gray and 
Bivers had alienated the boy's affection from himself, ordered them 
both into arrest, when Gloucester and Buckingham fell obsequiously 
on their knees before the child, whom they saluted as their sovereign. 
Their first care was to ascertain who were his favourites, for the pur- 
pose of getting rid of them. Two of the royal servants, Sir Thomas 
Vaughan and Sir Bichard Hawse, were dismissed not only without a 
month's warning, but, as they were sent off to prison at once, "suiting 
themselves with other situations " was utterly impossible. Young 
Edward was kept as a kind of prisoner, and Elizabeth, his mother, 
when she heard the news, set off to Westminster, with her second 
son and the five young ladies — her daughters — after her. The queen- 
mother had no party in London, and her arrival with her quintette 
of girls created no sensation. 

In a few days young Edward entered the city, but more as a captive 
than as a king, and lodgings were immediately taken for him in the 
Tower, where he was to be boarded, and, alas ! done for by his loving 
uncle. Gloucester was named protector to the youthful sovereign, and 
moved to No. 1, Crosby Blace, Bishopsgate (the number on the 
door), where, instead of behaving himself like a gentleman "living 
private," he held councils, while Hastings, who began to doubt the 
duke's loyalty, gave a series of opposition parties in the Tower. At 
one of these, Bichard, who had never received a card of invitation, 
walked in, and voted himself into the chair with the most consummate 
impudence. In vain did Hastings intimate that it was a private room, 
or that Gloucester must have mistaken the house for there he sat, 
exclaiming, " Oh no, not at all," begging the company to make them- 
selves at home, as he fully meant to do. He was particularly facetious 
to the Bishop of Ely, asking after his garden in Holborn, and 



300 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND 



[nook IV. 



proposing to the prelate to send for a plate of strawberries. These were 
soon brought, and Eichard indulged in "potations pottle deep" of 
strawberries and cream, declaring all the while that the fruit was 
capital, and that of all wind instruments there was none he liked to 
have a blow out upon so much as the hautboy. The Protector having 
gone away for a short time, returned in a very ill humour, with hia 




The Bishop of Ely presenting a Pottle of Strawberries to the Duke of Glo'ster. 

countenance looking exceedingly sour, as if the strawberries he had 
eaten had disagreed with him and the cream had curdled. He gave 
his lips several severe bites, and altogether appeared exceedingly 
snappish. Presently he asked what those persons deserved who had 
compassed or imagined his destruction. Hastings observed, " Why, 
that is so completely out of my compass that I can scarcely guess, 
but I don't mind saying off-hand that death is the least punishment 
they merit." The Protector declared his brother's wife— meaning the 
queen — and Mrs. Shore had between them twisted his body, which 
would, indeed, have been doing him a very bad turn ; and, pulling up 
his sleeve, he exhibited his left arm, declaring there was something 
not at all right about it. The council agreed that the limb was a 
good deal damaged, and Hastings added that " if Mrs. Shore and the 
queen had really had a hand in Richard's arm, they certainly deserved 
grievous punishment." " What 1 " roared the Protector, " do yuu 



CHAP. VI.] AREEST OF LORD HASTINGS AND LORD STANLEY. 



301 



answer me with ' ifs ' ? I tell you they have, and no mistake." 
Whereupon he banged his fist down upon the table with tremendous 
violence" giving himself as well as Hastings* a frightful rap on the 
knuckles. Thereupon a door opened, and " men in harness came 
rushing in," according to More, and, being in harness, they proceeded 
to fix the saddle on the right horse immediately. The Protector ex- 
claimed "I arrest thee, traitor," and pointed to Hastings, who cried 
out " Eh ! What ! Oh ! Pooh ! Stuff ! You're joking ! Arrest me ? 
What have I done ? Fiddlestick ! " To pursue the elegant description 
given by More, we must add that " another let fly at Stanley," who 
bobbed down his head and crawled under the table. The officers, after 
some trouble, pulled him out by the leg — having first drawn off his 
boot in a futile attempt to secure him — and carried him away in custody. 
Richard then had another turn at Hastings, who was in a sort of hys- 
terical humour, at one moment treating the matter as a joke, and at 
another not knowing exactly what to make of it. " You may laugh," 
at length roared Richard, " but I'll tell you what it is, my Lord 
] fastings, I've ordered my dinner to be ready by the time I get home, 




Arrest of Lord Hastings and Lord Stanley. 



but by St. Paul I'll not touch a mouthful — and I own I'm deuced 
hungry — until I've seen your head." 

Hastings replied that such a condition was easily fulfilled, and 
thrusting his head into Richard's face exclaimed "There, my lord, 
you've seen my head, so now go home as soon as you like, and get 
your dinner." The Protector pushing him aside, expressed contempt 



302 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

for the paltry quibble, and amended the affidavit by inserting the 
word " off " after the word " head," and exclaiming "I'll see Hastings' 
head off before I touch a bit of dinner." Hastings was seized, and 
the purveyors for the Protector soon brought him the avant gout which 
he had required as a provocative to his appetite. Richard's violence 
had thus come suddenly to a head, and Earl Eivers, with Sir Thomas 
Vaughan and Sir Kichard Hawse, were executed on the same day at 
Pontefract. 

A few days after these executions, Kichard went to the sanctuary 
at Westminster, arm-in-arm with the Archbishop of Canterbury, and 
called for the little Duke of York, who, they said, would bo wanted 
for the coronation. Consent was somewhat unwillingly given, and 
Kichard having got the child away, made him a prisoner in the Tower. 
An affecting anecdote is told of the ruse that was resorted to by 
Gloucester and his friend, the archbishop, to entrap their juvenile 
victim into going quietly with them towards the gloomy scene of his 
destined captivity. They lured him on from place to place by 
pretending that they were going to treat him to some wonderful show, 
and they took all sorts of roundabout ways to prevent him from sus- 
pecting the point they were really driving at. When the poor child 
was becoming tired of his walk, and surrounding objects had lost the 
attraction of novelty, he began crying after his mamma, with that 
filial force which is peculiar to the earliest period of infancy. Glou- 
cester began to fear they should 'get a mob after them, if, as he 
savagely expressed himself, "the brat continued to howl," and the 
little fellow was promised, for the purpose of " stopping his mouth," 
that he should see his mother immediately. After walking him 
nearly off his little legs through back streets and alleys, they brought 
him out upon Tower Hill, and Richard, no longer disguising the fact 
that he was acting the part of the cruel uncle, snatched up in his 
arms the trembling child, who presently found himself in one of the 
gloomy apartments of the Tower. 

Richard's next artifice was to practise the " moral dodge," which 
seldom fails to tell upon an indiscriminating multitude. Jane Shore, 
who had been seduced by the late king, was fixed upon as a mark for 
plunder and pei'secution by Richard, who first robbed the poor woman 
of all she had and then sent her to prison. He professed to be so 
shocked at some of the incidents of her past life, that, as a moral 
agent or acting member of society for the suppression of vice, he 
could not allow her to escape without some heavy punishment. She 
was proceeded against in the Ecclesiastical Courts, and ordered to 
walk about London with a lighted rushlight in her hand and wearing 
nothing but a pair of sheets or a counterpane. The Hammersmith 
Ghost and Spring-heeled Jack are the only legitimate successors of 
Jane Shore in this remarkable proceeding, and might have cited her 
case as a precedent for their own unlawful practices. 

Richard also entered into an arrangement with Doctor Shaw, a 
popular preacher, who was to preach down, or, as it was then called. 
depreachiate the two young princes. The Reverend Doctor then 
threw a doubt on their legitimacy, and declared their late father 



CHAP. VI.] BUCKINGHAM AT THE GUILDHALL. 303 

Edward was not a bit like his reputed father, the Duke of York, and 
pulling out two enormous caricatures from under his gown he asked 
the crowd whether any likeness could be traced between them. 
"Instead of the eyes," he exclaimed, "being as like as two peas, 
these eyes are not even as like as two gooseberries ! " He then asked 
his hearers to compare notes by comparing the noses of the two 
portraits he held in his hand ; and, pointing to the picture of Eichard, 
Duke of York, he reminded them that the bridge of the nose was 
exactly like that of Eichard, Duke of Gloucester. "There, my 
friends," he roared, " there is a bridge that I think there is no 
possibility of getting over ! " The allusion created a laugh, but no 
conviction ; and the failure was rendered more annoying by the Pro- 
tector not arriving in time, as had been previously arranged, to enable 
Dr. Shaw to point out the striking likeness. By some mistake Eichard 
missed the cue for his entrance, and did not come in until the com- 
parison had passed, when upon Shaw endeavouring to recur to it, the 
trick was so obvious that the people only stared at each other, or 
passed their right thumbs significantly over their left shoulders. The 
Protector vented his disappointment and anger on the preacher, 
whom he denounced as an old meddler who did not know what he 
was talking about, and Doctor Shaw sneaked off, amid derision, 
shouts of " Pshaw ! Pshaw ! " and the jeers of the populace. 

On the following Tuesday Eichard got his friend Buckingham to go 
down to Guildhall to give him a regular good puff, at a meeting of 
the citizens. Buckingham's speech was listened to with a deal of 
apathy, and there were numerous cries of " Cut it short," responded 
to with a faint shout of " Hear him out," and an occasional ejacula- 
tion of "Now then, stupid! " Buckingham persevered, and at the 
close of his address somebody threw up a bonnet, exclaiming " Long 
live King Eichard ! " The bonnet belonged evidently to a person of 
straw, and excited little more than ridicule. 

The speech of Buckingham to the citizens assembled in Guildhall, 
was a rare specimen of the eloquence of humbug ; and it evidently 
formed a model for the discourses sent forth by auctioneers from the 
rostrum at a later period. The whole system, indeed, pursued by the 
Duke of Buckingham on the memorable occasion of his putting up the 
claim of Eichard to the suffrages of the bystanders, was evidently in 
accordance with that by which bad lots are frequently got off at the 
highest prices. The art with which Buckingham pretended to recog- 
nise sympathy in the crowd, and bowed to vacancy with an exclama- 
tion of " Thank you, sir," when there was nobody to thank, might 
have ranked with some of the highest auctioneering efforts of our own 
era. When there was a faint shout of " Long live King Eichard," 
from a solitary individual, Buckingham adroitly multiplied the excla- 
mation by declaring that he heard it " in two places," though he knew 
perfectly well that a solitary puffer, in his own employ, had been the 
only one who raised a shout for Gloucester. " What shall I say for 
Eichard?" he lustily vociferated. "Look at him, gentlemen, 
before you bid. There's nothing spurious about him. Come, gentle- 
men, give me a bidding." At this juncture, one of the duke's touters 



304 



COMIC HISTOKT OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV. 



cried out, from the bottom of the hall, "I'll bid a crown," and a 
slight titter arising, Buckingham took advantage of the circumstance 
to assert, that "a crown was bid for Eichard in several places at 
once ; " whereupon the tyrant was said to have been accepted at that 
price, and tho business of the day concluded. 

On the next day a deputation was got up to wait on Eichard at his 
lodgings, when he at first declined seeing them. His servant returned 
to say the gentleman particularly wished an interview, and Gloucester 
desired they might be shown up, when Buckingham and a few of tho 
deputation were admitted to his presence. They handed him a 
paper, inviting and pressing him to accept the crown ; but he observed, 
Avith assumed modesty, " that if he had it, he really should not know 
what to do with it." " Clap it on your head, of course," said 
Buckingham ; and, suiting the action to the word, he thrust the 
bauble on the brow of his friend, observing, " Upon my honour, ho 
looks well in it, don't he, Shaw? " and he turned to the Lord Mayor 




The Citizens offering tho Crown to Eichard. 

for approval. Eichard, however, shook his head, and remarked that 
"he could not think of it; " when Buckingham, by a happy turn, 
suggested that "they had thought of it for him, and therefore, lie 
might as well do it first aud think of it afterwards," " But the little 



CHAP. VII.] 



RICHARD THE THIRD. 



305 



princes," remarked Kichard, " whom I love so much." This caused 
Buckingham to say, in the name of all present, that "they had 
determined not to have the little princes at any price." Upon this, 
Gloucester replied, " that he must meet the wishes of the people, and 
if they must have him, they must, but he, really, had a good deal 
rather not;" when, amid a quantity of significant winking on all 
sides, an end was put to the conference. 

This scene was enacted on the 24th of June, 1483, which was the 
last day of the nominal reign of the fifth Edward. It is impossible 
to give any character of this unfortunate king, whose sovereignty was 
almost limited to the walls of his own nursery. He might some- 
times have played at sitting on a throne and holding a sceptre in 
his hand, but he never exercised the smallest power. He may, upon 
one or two occasions, have been allowed to dissolve Parliament ; but 
it was only in the form of the cake so called, which ho might, perhaps, 
be permitted to dissolve by the force of suction. 



CHAPTER THE SEVENTH 



RICHARD THE THIRD. 

ICHARD, on coming to the throne, 
rushed into Westminster Hall, 
and took his seat on a sort of 
marble slab or mantel-piece, be- 
tween the great Lord Howard and 
the Duke of Suffolk. The precious 
trio looked like a set of chimney 
ornaments, of which Richard 
formed the centre. He declared 
that he commenced his reign in 
that place, because it had been 
once a judgment-seat, and he was 
anxious to administer justice to 
his people. Ten days after, on 
the 6th of July, he was crowned 
in Westminster Abbey, and to 
prevent any murmurs at his 
usurpation, he was lavish of gifts, 
promotion and bribery. The Duke 
of Norfolk, the celebrated jockey 
mentioned by Shakspeare, who 
had put Richard in training for the throne, became Earl Marshal, 
and his son was created Earl of Surrey, in honour, perhaps, of the 
surreptitious manner in which the crown had been obtained for his 
master Richard. The Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Ely 




306 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [bOOK IV. 

were set at liberty, " which caused them to dance with joy," according 
to one of the chroniclers, though we cannot imagine a pair of pre- 
lates indulging in Terpsichorean diversions on their release from prison. 

In the course of the summer, Richard made a royal progress, and 
was enthusiastically received, though it is believed that much of the 
enthusiasm was got up by frequent rehearsals with a set of super- 
numeraries, who were sent on before from town to town, to give a recep- 
tion to the new sovereign. If Richard was expected to arrive 
anywhere at two, the populace would be called at one, to run through 
— in rehearsal — the cheers and gestures of satisfaction that wero 
required to give brilliance to the usurper's entry. When he arrived 
at York, a wish was expressed by the inhabitants to see a coronation ; 
and though the ceremony had already been performed in London, it 
was announced that the spectacle would be repeated, "by particular 
desire of several families of distinction." 

While Richard's starring expedition was most successful in the 
provinces, things in London were by no means looking up, for con- 
spiracies were being formed to release the two young princes from the 
Tower. The usurper, not relishing these proceedings, sent a certain 
John Green — whose unsuspecting innocence has made viridity synony- 
mous with stupidity ever since — as the bearer of a message, the 
purport of which he was wholly unconscious of. It was addressed 
to Sir Thomas Brackenbury, the governor of the Tower, requesting 
him to put to death the two royal children, by smothering them — in 
onions, or anything else that might be found convenient. Bracken- 
bury refused the commission, not so much out of regard to the little 
princes as from fear on his own account, and he sent back the mono- 
syllable " No " as an answer to the sovereign. Green, who knew 
not the purport of the message, returned with the curt reply, and 
upon his reiterating " No " as all he was desired to say, Richard 
angrily desired him " not to show his nose again at court for a con- 
siderable period." The tyrant was not, however, to be daunted, and 
he called his Master of the Horse, Sir James Tyrrel, whom he desired 
to go and lock every door in the Tower, and put the keys in his 
pocket. One night in August, Tyrrel took with him a fellow named 
Miles Forrest, a professional assassin, and John Dighton, an amateur, 
' a big, broad, square, and strong knave," who, notwithstanding his 
squareness, was living on the cross for a long period. The precious 
trio went together to the Tower, and Tyrrel waiting at the door, Miles 
Forrest entered with John Dighton, who jointly smothered the 
children in the bedclothes. 

Dighton and Forrest entered with savage earnestness into this 
horrible transaction, and conducted themselves after the cruel fashion 
of a clown and pantaloon in a pantomime when an infant falls into 
their formidable clutches. Dighton danced on the bed, while 
Forrest flung himself across it with fearful vehemence. Tyrrel, who 
was standing outside, acted the part of an undertaker in this truly 
black job, and buried the princes at the foot of the staircase. 

Various accounts have been given of this atrocious deed, and anti- 
quarians have quarrelled about the form of the bed the princes used 



CHAP. VII.] THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER GOES INTO MOURNING 



307 



to sloop upon. Somo declare it was a turn-up, in which the children 
were suddenly inclosed ; whilst others affirm that the princes had 
the thread of their existence cut on that useful form of bedstead 
familiarly known as the scissors. Thus, to use the language of the 
philosopher, a feather-bed and pillows were made to bolster up the 
title of Eichard, who from his artifice was exceedingly likely to have 
recourse to such a downy expedient. We may be excused for adding 
from the same high authority we have taken the liberty to quote, that 
this assassination on a palliasse was an act that nothing could palliate, 
Eichard, by whom the outward decencies of life were very scrupu- 
lously observed, in order to make up for the inward deficiencies of his 
mind, determined to go into mourning for the young princes and 




The Duke of Gloucester goes into mourning for his little Nephews. 

repaired to the same maison dc deuil which he had honoured with his 
patronage on a former occasion, when requiring the "trapping of 
woe " for himself and his retainers on the death of his dear brother. 



x — 2 



SOS COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

Another competitor now appeared for the crown, in the person of 
Henry Tudor, Esquire, commonly called the Earl of Eichmond, who 
came with a drawn sword in his hand and a pedigree already drawn 
up in his pocket. He was considered to represent the line of Lancaster 
by right of his mother, who was a great-granddaughter of John of 
Gaunt, whose extreme tallness proved him to be a worthy scion of 
the house to which the title of Lanky-shire — as it then might have 
been spelled — was obviously appropriate. In order to strengthen 
Eichmond's party and give him a spice of Yorkism, a marriage was 
proposed with Elizabeth, of York, on the same principle that beef is 
sometimes cut with a hammy knife to give it a flavour. Eichmond 
was joined by several nobles hitherto favourable to Eichard, and even 
Buckingham, who had been indebted to him for wealth and office, 
suddenly turned against him. When Eichard heard the news he put 
a price on the heads of all the leaders of the insurrection ; and 
Buckingham's head, though a very empty one, was ticketed at a con- 
siderable figure. 

Henry, Earl of Eichmond, appeared with a fleet off Devonshire, 
but finding no one on the coast to meet him, he sailed back to St. 
Malo. Buckingham, who ought to have been on the look-out, was 
blundering about the right bank of the Severn, which he was unable 
to cross in consequence of the rains, when his army, finding themselves 
short of rations, declined continuing such a very irrational enterprise. 
Buckingham was left without a man, except his own servant — a 
fellow of the name of Banister — upon whose fidelity he threw himself. 
He soon found that he had been leaning upon a fragile prop, for this 
Banister broke down and betrayed his miserable master. Buckingham 
was accordingly captured, and sneakingly solicited an interview with 
Eichard the Third, who, on hearing of his being taken, coolly drew 
on his glove and roared with a stentorian voice, " Off with his head ! 
— so much for Buckingham ! " 

Eichard now came to town, and summoned a Parliament, which was 
exceedingly complaisant ; declaring him the lawful sovereign, by 
birth, by election, by coronation, by consecration, and by inheritance. 
Thus the usual attempt was made to make up by quantity for the 
deficiency as to quality in the title of the usurper, and the Princedom 
of Wales was settled on his boy Edward. Attainders were dealt out 
pretty freely among Eichard's opponents, who were pronounced 
traitors in the usual form, which was kept to be filled up with the 
name of the unsuccessful party ; while oaths of loyalty were always 
to be had — in blank — for the use of that numerous class which 
followed the crown with the fidelity of the needle to the pole, — the 
pole being the head that happened to be wearing — pro tern. — the 
precious bauble. 

Eichard, being afraid that Eichmond would gain strength by the 
project of marriage with Elizabeth of York, determined on marrying 
the young lady himself ; an idea which both herself and her intriguing 
old mother most indelicately jumped at. The king being already 
married, difficulties arose, but it was proposed to poison Lady Anne, 
which, as quack medicines had not been yet invented, was a some- 



CHAP. VII.] RICHMOND PREPARES TO ATTACK ENGLAND. 



309 



what difficult process. There was no specific then in existence for curing 
every disease, or the matter might have been arranged at once ; nor had 
the fatal art of punning become known, or Eichard might have placed 
the author of the triple jeu de mot in attendance upon the Lady Anne, 
to be, in time, the death of her. The quarrelsome and cat-like disposi- 
tion of this unhappy female may account for the tenacity of life which 
she exhibited ; and the young Elizabeth kept continually writing up 
to inquire why the queen took so much time in dying. It was now 
the middle of February, 1484, and Lady Anne was still alive ; but 
her obstinacy was soon cured by her husband, and in the course of March 
she was got rid of. Eichard immediately opened to his friends and 




Henry Tudor, Esq. 



admirers his scheme for marrying Elizabeth ; but they strongly op- 
posed it, and he then pretended that he had never meant anything of 
the sort, but that the minx — for as such he stigmatised the young lady 
— had for some time persisted in setting her cap at him. 

Henry was now preparing to make a descent upon England, wbon 
Eichard did all he could to damage him by proclamations, in which 
Eichmond was alluded to as " one Tudor," and his adherents were 
stigmatised as cut-throats and extortioners. Had this been the fact, 
it was certainly a case of pot pitching into kettle ; and the usurping 
saucepan poured out its sauce with wondrous prodigality. Numerous 
were the expedients resorted to for the purpose of damaging the 



310 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

cause of Ilenry Tudor. Descriptions of bis person were issued, and 
the people were warned against admitting to their confidence the in- 
dividual of whom a caricature representation, or rather mis-represen- 
tation, was sent abroad, to give an unfavourable idea of Richmond's 
exterior. Among other schemes to obtain popularity, Richard affected 
the character of a practical man, and personally attended to the 
administration of justice in a few cases, where, having no interest of 
his own to serve, he gave somewhat fair decisions. 

His efforts were now directed to putting the country in a state of 
defence, and he sent his friends to the coast to bear the brunt of the 
first attack, while he smuggled himself up pretty comfortably in the 
middle of a large army in the centre of the kingdom. Several of his 
friends betrayed him, while others sent excuses on the score of ill 
health, and Stanley apologised in a coarse note, declaring he was con- 
lined to his bed by " a sweating sickness." Richard merely muttered, 
" Oh ! indeed, and I suppose he sends me a wet blanket to prove the' 
fact ; " but he, nevertheless, ordered Stanley to be closely looked 
after. Henry landed at Milford Haven on the 7th of August, 1484, 
with about five thousand men, and on the 21st of the month the two 
armies met in a field near Bosworth. There a battle was fought, of 
which Shakespeare has furnished a series of pictures, which, on the 
stage, attempts are frequently made to realise. The contest, 
according to this authority, appears to have been carried on amid a 
mysterious flourish of drums and trumpets, to which soldiers, on both 
sides, kept running to and fro, without doing any serious mischief. 
Richmond's people, to the extent of about ten, then encountered 
about an equal number of Richard's adherents, and striking together, 
harmlessly, the tips of some long pikes, the two parties became 
huddled together, and retired in the same direction, apparently to 
talk thr matter over and effect a compromise. 

The field then seems to have become perfectly clear, when Richard 
ran across it, fearfully out of breath, fencing with a foil at nothing, 
and calling loudly for a horse in exchange for his kingdom, though 
there was not such a thing as a quadruped to be had for love or 
money. He then seems to have shouted lustily for Richmond, and to 
have asserted that he had already killed him five different times, from 
which it is to be inferred that the crafty Henry had no less than half 
a dozen suits of armour all made alike to mislead his antagonist. 
Richard then rushed away, with a hop, skip and jump, after some 
imaginary foe; and Richmond occupied the field; when Richard, 
happening to come back, they stood looking at each other for several 
seconds. We may account for Gloucester's temporary absence by 
referring to the historical authorities, for he had probably chosen the 
interval in question to make Sir John Cheney bite the dust, a most 
unpleasant process for Sir John, who must have ground his teeth 
horribly with a mouthful of gravel. 

The two competitors for the throne then stood upon their guard, 
and a beautiful fencing-match ensued, to which there were no witnesses. 
A few complimentary speeches were exchanged between some of the 
home thrusts and the combatants occasionally paused to take an 



CHAI\ VII.~| THE BATTLE OP BOSWORTH FIELD. 311 

artistical view of each other's gallant bearing. Business is, however, 
business in the long run, which, in this instance, ended in Eichard 
being run through by the victorious Eichmond. The soldiers of the 
latter, who appear to have been waiting behind a hedge to watch in 
whose favour fortune might turn, ran forward at the triumph of their 
master being complete, and formed a picture round him, while Stanley, 
taking the battered crown which Eichard had worn in battle, placed 
it — in its smashed state looking like a gilt-edged opera hat — on the 
head of Eichmond. The manner in which Stanley became possessed 
of the ill-used bauble is quite in accordance with the dramatic colour- 
ing that tinges and tinfoils this beautiful period of our history. It is 
said that an old soldier kicked against something in an adjacent field, 
and began actually playing at football with the regal diadem. Placing 
his foot inside the rim, he sent it flying into the air, when a ray of 
sunshine, lighting on one of the jewels, revealed to him that it was 
no ordinary plaything he had got hold of. Eunning with it as fast as 
he could to Stanley, the honest fellow placed it in his lordship's 
hands, with a cry of " See what I have found ! " after the manner of 
the pantaloon under similar circumstances in a pantomime. Stanley 
was about to put it in his pocket, when another noble roared out, 
" Oh, I'll tell ! " and a cry of " Somebody coming ! " being raised, the 
diadem was ingeniously dropped on to the head of Eichmond. The 
crown was fearfully scrunched by the numerous heavy blows its wearer 
had received, and Henry the Seventh, taking it off for a moment to 
push it a little into shape, exclaimed — half mournfully, half jocularly 
— "Well, well, to the punishment of the usurper this indenture 
witnesseth." The Duke of Norfolk — our old friend the jockey — 
shared his master's fate, or rather had a similar fate all to himself, 
though as he received the fatal crack, he expressed a wish that he 
might be allowed to split the difference. 

The fierce and interesting battle we are now speaking of was one 
of those short but sharp transactions, which leave their marks no less 
upon posterity than upon the heads and helmets of the warriors 
engaged in the fearful contest. The great importance of the event 
deserves something more than the prosaic narrative in which we have 
recorded it ; and having sent our boy to the Pierian spring with a 
pitcher, for the purpose of getting it filled with the source of inspira- 
tion, we proceed to attempt a poetical account of the Battle of Bos- 
worth. The celebrated Mr. Thomas Babington Macaulay has, we 
acknowledge, kindled our poetic fire, by his " Lays of Ancient Borne ; " 
and our imagination having been once set in a blaze it must needs 
continue to burn, unless, by blowing out our brains, we put a suicidal 
extinguisher on the flame. Philosophy, however, teaches us that 
"L'ame est un feu qu'il faut nourrir," * and alere flammam is a 
suggestion so familiar to our youth, that we do not scruple to throw 
an entire scuttle of the coals of encouragement upon the incipient 
flame of our poetic genius. We know that poetry is often an idle 
pursuit, and that he is generally lazy who addicts himself to the 

* Vultnire. 



312 CCmic nisfoftY 6P EnGLAKO. [bOoK tV. 

composition of lays, but the Battle of Bosworth Field is an event 
which fully deserves to have poetical justice done to it. Following 
the example of the illustrious model, whose style we consider it no 
humility, but rather an audacity, to imitate, we will suppose the 
recital to be made some time after the event has occurred, and we 
will imagine some veteran stage manager giving directions for, or 
superintending the rehearsal of, a grand dramatic representation of 
one of the grandest and — if we may be allowed the privilege of a 
literary smasher in coining a word — the dramaticest battles in English 
history. 

" IIo ! trumpets, sound a note or two ! 

Ho ! prompter, clear the stage 1 
A chord, there, in the orchestra : 

The battle we must wage. 
Your gallant supers marshal out — 

Yes, I must see them all ; 
The rather lean, the very stout, 

The under-sized, the tall : 
The Yorkites in the centre, 

Lancastrians in the rear, 
Not yet the staff must enter — 

The stage, I charge ye, clear! 
Those warriors in the green-room 

Must have an extra drill ; 
Where's Bichard's gilt-tipp'd baton ? 

They charged it in the bill. 
Those ensigns with the banners 

Must stand the other way, 
Or else how is it possible 

The white rose to display ? " 

Thus spoke the old stage manager, 

The day before the night 
Richard and Richmond on the field 

Of Bosworth had to fight. 

And thus the light-heel'd call-boy 

Upon that day began 
To read of properties a list — 

'Twas thus the items ran : — 

" Four dozen shields of cardboard, 

With paper newly gilt, 
Six dozen goodly swords, and ono 

With practicable hilt ; 
The practicable hilt, of course, 

Must be adroitly plann'd, 
That when 'tis struck with mod'rate fo;co 4 

'Twill break in Richard's hand. 



CHAP. VII J THE BATTLE Ofr B0SW0RTH FIELD. 3j3 

Eight banners — four with roses whito, 

And four with roses red — 
Six halberds, and a canopy 

To hang o'er Kichard's head; 
A. sofa for the tyrant's tent, 

An ironing-board at back, 
Whereon the ghosts may safely stand, 

Who come his dreams to rack ; 
A lamp suspended in the air 

By an invis'ble wire, 
And — for the ghosts to vanish in — 

Two ounces of blue fire." 



Thus spoke the gallant call-boy, 
The boy of many fights ; 

Who'd seen a battle often fought 
Fifty successive nights. 



The moment now approaches, 

The interval is short, 
Before the fearful battle 

Of Bosworth must be fought ; 
Now Bichmond's gallant soldiers 

Are waiting at the wing, 
Expecting soon that destiny 

Its prompter's bell will ring ; 
Now at the entrance opposite 

The troops of Bichard stand, 
Two dozen stalwart veterans — 
• A small but gallant band. 
Hark ! at the sound of trumpets, 

They raise a hearty cheer, 
Their voices have obtained their force 

From recent draughts of beer. 

Their leader, the false Bichard, 

Is lying in his tent, 
But ghosts to fret and worry him 

Are to his bedside sent. 
Convulsively he kicks and starts, 

He cannot have repose, 
A guilty conscience breaks his rest, 

By tugging at his toes. 
A gentleman in mourning, 

With visage very black, 
When the tent curtain draws aside 

Is standing at the back ; 



314 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

And then a woman — stately, 

But pale as are the dead — 
Stood, in the darkness of the night, 

To scold him in his bed. 

There came they, and there preached they, 

In most lugubrious waj 
Delivering curtain lectures 

Until the east was grey ; 
Or rather, till the prompter, 

Who has the proper cue, 
Had quite consumed his quantity 

Of tire, so bright and blue. 

The conscience-stricken Eichard 

Now kicks with greater force, 
Bears up, and plunges from his couch, 

Insisting on a horse ; 
"When, hearing from the village cock 

A blithe and early scream, 
He straightway recollects himself, 

And finds it all a dream. 



Now, on each side, the leaders 

Long for the battle's heat, 
But, by some luckless accident, 

The armies never meet ; 
We hear them both alternately 

Talking extremely large, 
But never find them, hand to hand, 

Mixed in the deadly charge. 
" March on, my friends ! " cries Richmond, 

" True tigers let us be ; 
Advance your standards, draw your sworda- 

On, friends, and follow me ! " 
'Tis true, they follow him indeed, 

But then, the way they go 
Is just the way they're not at all 

Likely to meet the foe. 
So Richard, with his " soul in arms," 

Is " eager for the fray," 
But, with a hop, a skip, and jump, 

Runs off — the other way. 

He's to the stable gone, perchance, 

Forgetting, in his flurry, 
He has kept waiting all this time 

His clever cob, White Surrey. 
The brut*- *s " saddled for the field,"" 



CHAT. VII.] 



THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH FIELD. 



315 




Richard the Third and Iris Celebrated Charger, White Surrey. 

But never gains the spot, 
For on his way Death knocks him down 

In one — the common — lot. 
Kichard, a momentary pang 

At the bereavement feels ; 
But, being thrown upon his hands, 

Starts briskly to his heels. 

And now the angry tyrant 

Perambulates the held, 
Calling on each ideal foe 

To fight him or to yield. 
" What, ho ! " he cries, " Young Eichmond ! 

But, 'mid the noise of drums, 
Young Eichmond doesn't hear him — 

At least he never comes. 



Now louder, and still louder, 
Eise from the darken'd field 

The braying of the trumpets, 
The clancr of sword and shield. 



3 if comic History of England. !>.ook itr 

But shame upon both armies ! 

For, if the truth be known, 
Tis not each other's shields they smite — 

The clang is all their own ; 
For six of Richmond's people 

Are standing in a row 
(Behind the scenes), and with their swords 

They give their shields a blow. 
Wild shouts of " Follow, follow ! " 

Are raised in murmuring strain, 
To represent the slayer's rage, 

The anguish of the slain. 

But now, in stern reality, 

The battle seems to rage ; 
For Catesby comes to tell the world 

How fiercely they engage. 
He gives a grand description, 

And says the feud runs high : 
We won't suppose that such a man 

Would stoop to tell a lie. 
He says the valiant king " enacts 

More wonders than a man ; " 
In fact, is doing what he can't, 

Instead of what he can. 
That all on foot the tyrant fights, 

Seeks Richmond, and will follow him 
Into the very " throat of Death " — 

No wonder Death should swallow him I 

Now meeting on a sudden, 

Each going the opposite way, 
Richard and Richmond both advance, 

Their valour to display. 
Says Richard, "Now for one of us, 

Or both, the time is come." 
Says Richmond, " Till I've settled this, 

By Jove, I won't go home." 
One, two, strikes Richard with his foil, 

When Richmond, getting fierce, 
Repeats three, four, and on they go, 

With parry, quatre, and tierce. 
Till suddenly the tyrant 

Is brought unto a stand ; 
His weapon snaps itself in twain, 

The hilt is in his hand. 
The gen'rous Richmond turns aside, 

Till someone at the wing 
Another weapon to the foe 

Good-naturedly doth fling. 




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CHA1'. VII. J THE BATTLE OP BOSWOKTH FIELD. 319 

Eichard advances with a rush ; 

Eichmond in turn retires ; 
Their weapons, every time they meet. 

Flash with electric fires. 
Posterity, that occupies 

Box, gallery, and pit, 
Applauds the pair alternately, 

As each one makes a hit. 
Now " Bravo, Eichmond ! " is the cry, 

Till Eichard plants a blow 
With good effect, when to his side 

Eound the spectators go. 
As fickle still as when at first, 

The nation, undecided, 
Was 'twist the Eoses White and Bed 

Alternately divided, 
So does the modern audience 

Incline, with favour strongest, 
To him who in the contest seems 

Likely to last the longest. 

Then harsher sounds the trumpet, 

And deeper rolls the drum, 
Till both have bad enough of it, 

When Eichard must succumb, 
Flatly he falls upon the ground, 

Declaring, when he's down, 
He envies Eichmond nothing else, 

Except the vast renown 
Which he has certainly acquired 

By being made to yield 
Himself, that had been hitherto 

The master of tho field. 
And then the soldiers, who have stood 

Some distance from the fray, 
Eush in to take their portion of 

The glory of the day. 
And men with banners in their hands, 

At eighteen-pence a night, 
Some with red roses on the flags, 

And some with roses white, 
By shaking them together, 

The colours gently blend, 
And the Battle of the Eoses 

Is for ever at an end. 

The Battle of Bosworth Field terminated the War of the Eoses, or 
rather brought the roses into full blow, and cut off some of the flower 
of the English nobility. Eichmond was proclaimed king on the field, 
as Henry the Seventh ; and as the soldiers formed themselves into f 



320 



COMIC HISTOBY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV, 



tableau the curtain descended on the tragedy of the War between 
the Houses of York and Lancaster. 

Richard had reigned a couple of years and a couple of months when 
he received his quietus on the field of Bosworth. If ever there was 
u king of England whose name was bad enough to hang him, thip 




Coronation of Henry the Seventh on the Field of Battle. 

unfortunate dog has a reputation which would suspend him on every 
lamp-post in Christendom. The odium attaching to his policy has 
been visited on his person, and it has been asserted that the latter 
was not straight because the former was crooked. His right shoulder 
is said by Eouse, who hated him, to have been higher than his left ; 
but this apparent deformity may have arisen from the party having 



CHAP. VII.] CHARACTER OF RICHARD THE THIRD. 321 

taken a one-sided view of him. His stature was small ; but in the 
case of one who never stood very high in the opinion of the public, 
it was physically impossible for the fact to be otherwise. Walpole, 
in his very ingenious " Historic Doubts," has tried to get rid of 
Eichard's high hump, but the operation has not been successful, in 
the opinion of any impartial umpire. Imagination, that tyrant which 
has such a strange method of treating its subjects, has had perhaps 
more to do than Nature in placing an enormous burden on Richard's 
shoulders. His features were decidedly good-looking ; but on the 
converse of the principle that " handsome is as handsome does," the 
tyrant Gloucester has been regarded as one of those who " ugly was 
that handsome didn't." 

It is a remarkable fact that Eichard the Third during his short 
reign received no subsidy from Parliament, though we must not 
suppose that he ruled the kingdom gratuitously ; for, on the contrary 
his income was ample and munificent. He got it in the shape of 
tonnage and poundage upon all sorts of goods, and when money was 
not to be had he took property to the full value of the claim he had 
upon it. The result was that his treasury became a good deal like an 
old curiosity shop, a coal shed, or a dealer's in marine stores, for any- 
thing that came in Eichard's way was perfectly acceptable. The 
principle of poundage was applied to everything, even in quantities 
loss than a pound, and he would, even on a few ounces of sugar, sack 
his share of the saccharine. If he required it for his own use he 
never scrupled to intercept the housewife on her way from the 
butcher's and cut off the chump from the end of the chop : nor did he 
hesitaie, when he felt disposed, to lop the very lo'lipop in the hands 
of the schoolboy. This principle of allowing poundage to the king was 
in the highest degree inconvenient. It rendered the meat-safe a 
misnomer, inasmuch as it was never safe from royal rapacity. 

It has been said of Eichard, that he would have been well qualified 
to reign, had he been legally entitled to the throne ; or, in other words, 
that he would have been a good ruler if he had not been a bad 
sovereign. To us this seems to savour of the old anomaly — a distinc- 
tion without a difference. He certainly carried humbug to the highest 
possible point, for he exhibited it upon the throne, which serves as a 
platform to make either vice or virtue — as the case may be — ■ 
conspicuous. 

The trick by which he obtained possession of his nephew, the young 
King Edward, whose liberty was likely to prove a stumbling-block in 
Eichard's own path to the throne, is remarkable for its cunning, and 
for the intimate knowledge it displayed of the juvenile character. 
Proceeding to the residence of the baby monarch's mamma, he began 
asking after "little Ned" with apparently the most affectionate 
interest. He had previously provided himself with a lot of sweetstuff 
as he came along, for it was his deep design to intoxicate with brandy- 
balls the head of the infant sovereign. " "Where is the little fellow?" 
inquired Eichard, who would take no excuse for his nephew not being 
produced, but declared that being in no hurry, he could wait the con- 
venience of the nursery authorities. Finding further opposition 



322 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[BOOK IV. 



useless, Elizabeth reluctantly ordered the boy to be brought down, 
when Richard asked him " Whether he would like to go with Uncle 
Dick?" and got favourable answers by surreptitiously cramming the 
child's mouth with lollipops. Whenever the little fellow was about 
to say " He would rather stay with his mamma," the Protector called 
his attention (aside) to a squib or brandy-ball, and York consented at 
last to go with his uncle. " Oh ! I thought you would," cried the wily 
duke, as he clutched his little nephew up and jogged with him to the 




"Would York like to go with his Uncle DicK?" 



Tower. Such was the artful scheme by which the tyrant originally 
got possession of the subsequent victim of avuncular cruelty. It has 
been urged in extenuation of his cruel murder of the little princes, 
that their deaths were a necessary sequel to those of Hastings and 
others ; but it would have been a poor consolation to the victims had 
they known that they were only killed by way of supplement. _ We 
cannot think that any portion of the catalogue of Richard's crimes 
should be printed in colours less black because it formed a con- 
tinuation or an appendix to his atrocities ; nor can we excuse 
Part II. of a horribly bad work because Part I. has rendered it 
unavoidable. 

It is urged by those writers who have defended him, that the 
crimes he committed were only those necessary to secure the crown ; 



CHAI\ VIII.] NATIONAL INDUSTBY. 323 

but this is no better plea than that of the highwayman who knocks a 
traveller on the head because the blow is necessary to the convenient 
picking of the victim's pockets. Eichard's crimes might have been 
palliated in some trifling degree, had they been essential to the 
recovery of his own rights, but the case is different when his 
sanguinary career was only pursued that he might get hold of that 
which did not belong to him. It is true he was ambitious ; but if a 
thief is ambitious of possessing our set of six silver tea-spoons, we are 
not to excuse him because he knocks us down and stuns us, as a 
necessary preliminary to the transfer of the property from our own to 
our assailant's possession. The palliators of Eichard's atrocities 
declare that he could do justice in matters where his own interest 
was not concerned ; but this fact, by proving that he knew better, is 
in fact an aggravation of the faults he was habitually guilty of. It 
has been insinuated that when he had got all he wanted, he might 
have improved, but that by killing him after he had come to the 
throne, his contemporaries gave him no chance of becoming respect- 
able. It must be clear to every reasonable mind that the result, even 
had it been satisfactory, would never have been worth the cost of 
obtaining it, and that in tolerating Eichard's pranks, on the chance 
of his becoming eventually a good king, his subjects might well have 
exclaimed la jeu n'en vaut pas la chandcllc. In the vexata questio of 
the cause of the death of the princes, the guilt has usually been attri- 
buted to Eichard, because he reaped the largest benefit from their 
decease ; but this horrible doctrine would imply that a tenant for life 
is usually murdered by the remainder-man, and that the enjoyer of 
the interest of Bank Stock is frequently cut off by the reversioner 
who is entitled to the principal. We admit there is a strong case 
against Eichard upon other more reasonable evidence : and thus from 
the magisterial bench of History do we commit him to take his trial, 
and be impartially judged by the whole of his countrymen. 



CHAPTEE THE EIGHTH. 

NATIONAL INDUSTKY. 

Let us now turn from the turmoil of war, and apply our eye-glass 
to the pursuits of peace ; for, having been surfeited for the present 
with royal rapacity, it will be refreshing to take a glance at national 
industry. 

London was at a very early period famous for the abundance of its 
wool, and it has been ingeniously suggested that the great quantity 
of wool may account for a sort of natural shyness or sheepishness 
among our fellow-countrymen. 

Y — 2 



321 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK IV. 

The Bill of Exchange was a luxury introduced in the beginning of 
the thirteenth century, for the accommodation of our forefathers, who 
had learned the value of a good name, and perhaps occasionally expe- 
rienced the inconveniences of a bad one. 

There is nothing very interesting in the history of Commerce until 
the time of Whittington, whose cat, we have already said, was a 
iabulous animal, though it has taken its place by the side of the 
.British Lion in our English annals. We are inclined to believe that 
there is some analogy between these two brutes, and that both arc 
meant to be the types respectively of our political and commercial 
prosperity. We have sometimes thought that the British Lion, from 
its plurality of lives, ought rather to be called the British Cat, espe- 
cially from its readiness to come to the scratch when the altar or the 
throne may seem to be in jeopardy. Whatever may be the exact 
nature of the beast, it is certainly a very highly-trained and somewhat 
harmless animal, for any statesman may place his head in the British 
Lion's mouth, and remove it again without suffering the slightest 
injury. The creature will roar loudly enough and show an ample 
expanse of jaw, but it is frequently vox ct pratcrta, nihil with the 
noisy brute, whose grumbling is often indicative of his extreme 
emptiness. 

Whittington was certainly three times Lord Mayor of London, and 
we find him " doing a bill " for Henry the Fourth to the tune of a 
thousand pounds, and taking the subsidy on wool — out of which the 
sovereign generally fleeced the people — as collateral security. 

In the reign of Henry the Fifth considerable advance was made in the 
art of ship-building, though from the pictures of the period it would seem 
that the craft exhibited very little of the workman's cunning. One of 
the ships of war of the fifteenth century, described in the Harleian 
MS., has all the appearance of a raft constructed of a few planks, with 
a sort of sentry-box at one end for the accommodation of the steers- 
man. In the larger vessels the entire crew will be found always crowd- 
ing the deck in a dense mass ; for the rules against taking more than 
the number were not enforced, and an ancient ship, like a modern 
carpet bag, was never so full but something additional could bo 
always crammed into it. 

In this age commerce was so highly respectable that even kings 
carried it on ; and the highest ecclesiastics were in business for them- 
selves as tradesmen of the humblest character. Matthew Paris tells 
us of an abbot of St. Alban's who did a good deal in the fish line, 
under the name of WiUiam of Trumpington. His chief transactions 
were in Yarmouth herrings, and the worthy abbot undertook to put 
upon every breakfast table as good a bloater as money could procure, 
at a very moderate figure. The benevolent dignitary had come to 
the conclusion that the cure of herrings would pay him better than 
the cure of souls, and he accordingly added the former lucrative 
branch to the latter employment, with a pompous declaration that 
the two might be considered analogous. This habit among the 
churchmen, of making all fish that came to their net, was by no 
means popular and it was said in a lampoon of the day, that tha 



CHAP. VIII.] 



THE SWEATING TOOCEbS 



325 



next thing to be clone would be the conversion of a prebendal stall 
into an oyster stall. 

Among the other disreputable sources of revenue to which the 
ecclesiastics devoted themselves we must not omit to mention 
smuggling, which they carried on to an alarming extent in wool ; for 
after going wool-gathering in all directions, they padded themselves 
with it and stuffed it under their gowns for the purpose of eluding the 
Customs' regulations, to which the article was subjected. 

Edward the Fourth was a true tradesman at heart, and, had ho 
been a general dealer instead of a king, he would have been quite in 
his proper station. Nature had fitted him for the counter, though 
Fortune had placed him on the throne ; but even in his commercial 
transactions he was guilty of acts 
that were quite unworthy of the 
high character of the British trades- 
man. The butt of Malmsey in 
which he caused his brother to be 
drowned was, it is believed, actually 
sold as a full fruity wine with '.' plenty 
of body in it," after poor Clarence 
had been in soak till death relieved 
him from his drenching. Edward 
the Fourth had also the disagreeable 
habit of enriching himself by money 
which he borrowed from the mer- 
chants, and never thought proper 
to return to them himself ; but if he 
paid them at all, he, by laying on 
taxes, took it out of the people. It 
was also a fraudulent propensity 
of some of our early kings, to depre- 
ciate the coin of the realm, and Edward the Third managed to squeeze 
two hundred and seventy pennies, instead of two hundred and forty, 
out of a pound, which enabled him to put the odd half-crown into his 
own pocket. Henry the Fourth carried the sweating process still 
further, by diluting a pound into thirty shillings, a trick he excused by 
alleging the scarcity of money ; though the expedient was as bad as 
that of the housewife who, when the strength of the tea was gone, 
filled up the pot with water for the purpose of making more of it. 
Edward the Fourth, considering that his predecessors had not sub- 
jected the pound to all the compound division of which it was 
capable, smashed it into four hundred pennies, which was certainly 
proving that he could make a pound go as far as anyone. 

In speaking of the industry of the people, we may fairly allr le to 
what was regarded at the time as a great drag upon it in the shape 
of a fearful increase of attorneys, who in 1455 had grown to such an 
extent in Norfolk and Suffolk, that those places were literally 
swarming with the black fraternity. In the city of Norwich the 
attorneys were so plentiful that the evil began to correct itself, for 
they commenced preying on each other, like the water-lion ="£ 




' Ya-ah ! Macker— el ! " William of 
Trumpington, the Abbot of St. Alban's. 



326 



COMIC HISTORY. OP ENGLAND. 



HOOK IV. 



water-tiger in the drop of stagnant fluid viewed through the solar 
microscope. They were in the habit of attending markets and fairs 
where they worked people up into bringing and defending actions 
against each other, without the smallest legal ground for proceedings 
on either side. A salutary statute cut down the exuberance of the 
attorneys by limiting their numbers, and six were appointed as a 
necessary evil for Suffolk; six as a standing nuisance in Norfolk: 
while two were apportioned under the head of things that, as they 
"can't be cured must be endured," to the city of Norwich. Such 
was the state of national industry up to the period at which we have 
arrived in our history. 



CHAPTER THE NINTH. 



OF THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITION OF THE PEOrLE. 



OTWITHSTANDING that in a previous book wo 
brought down the fashions and furniture of our fore- 
fathers to the fourteenth century, in the present 
chapter we shall have the pleasure of laying before 
our readers some considerably later intelligence. We 
left our ancestors lying upon very uncomfortable 
beds, but the year 1415 introduces us to some luxu- 
ries in the way of curtains and counterpanes. The 
Duke of York set forth his bedding in his will, which 
bears the date we have named, and he seems to have 
died worth some thousands of pounds — of superior 
goose feathers. At a somewhat later period the 
sheet burst upon the page of history, and a blank is 
supplied by the sudden appearance of the blanket. 

It was about the same period that clocks with 
strings and weights began to have a striking influence 
on the time, and Edward the Fourth used to carry 
one about with him wherever he went, but we do not 
believe that he wore it in a watch pocket, from which, 
instead of key and seals, there hung a couple cf 
weights and a pendulum. 

Costume seems to have been curtailed of very little 
of its exuberant absurdity in the reigns of Henry the 
Fourth and Fifth, though reform was carried to 
extremes, for it cut off the surplus hair from the head, 
and took away at least half a yard from the foot by 

relieving the shoes of their long points, a fashion which had always 

been remarkable for extreme pointlessness. 

In the reign of Edward the Fourth there appears to have been a 






©^ 



CHAP. IX.] MANNERS, CUSTOMS, ETC., OP USE PEOPLE. 32? 

practice prevalent of making a shift to go without a shirt, when those 
who had such a thing to their backs were seized with a spirit of self- 
assertion, and began to slash open their sleeves for the purpose of 
showing their possession of that very useful article. The desire to 
prove the plenteousness and perhaps also the propreid of the under 
linen, led to a further ripping up of other parts of the dress, and the 
fops of the day began to outslash each other by opening the seams of 
their clothes in the most unseemly fashion. 

Kichard the Third and his " cousin of Buckingham " were noto- 
rious for their love of finery, and the term " buck," which is used at 
the present day, is evidently an abbreviation of Buckingham. Kichard, 
probably, invented the Dicky or false front, which gave him the 
appearance of having always a clean breast, though the fact is that 
he was reduced to the expedient of wearing a false front, because the 
stains of guilt upon his bosom were utterly indelible. 

The appetite of the fifteenth century seems to have been uncom- 
monly good, for we find our ancestors eating four meals a day, begin- 
ning with breakfast at seven, dinner at ten, supper at four, and a 
collation taken in bed — oh, the cormorants ! — between eight and nine 
in the evening. The meal taken in bed may have consisted of a 
blanquette de veau, or perhaps now and then a bolster pudding, while 
the ladies may have indulged themselves with a cotelette cnpapillotes. 
Earl Percy and his countess used to absorb between them a gallon of 
beer and a quart of wine, and before being tucked up for the night 
would tuck in a loaf of household bread, with other trifles to follow. 
A dinner in the days to which we are reverting generally lasted three 
hours, but tumblers and dancers were employed to amuse the feasters, 
so that a kind of caper sauce was served out with every dish that 
came to table. 

Nothing in the whole annals of ancient and modern gluttony can 
exceed the dinner said to have been given by George Neville, the 
brother of the King-maker, on his induction to the Archbishopric of 
York, in the fifteenth century. It opened with a hundred and four 
oxen (au natural), six wild bulls (a la mcnagcrc), three hundred and 
four calves (en surprise), with innumerable entrees of pigs, bucks, 
stags, and roes, to an extent that is not only almost but quite 
incredible. 

The pictures of the period represent a very inconvenient mode of 
laying the table, for we find a fish served up in a slop-basin, or rather 
laid across the top of that article of china-ware, which was much too 
small to admit the body of the animal. As far as we can discern the 
intention of the artist, we fancy we recognise in one of his pictures of 
a feast a duck lying on its back in a sort of sugar-basin or salt-cellar. 
This and a kind of mustard-pot, with an empty plate and half of a 
dinner-roll, may be said to constitute the entire provision made for 
a party of seven, who are standing up huddled together on one 
side of the table, in an existing representation of a dinner of the 
period. 

The sports of the people were very numerous in the fifteenth 
century ; but if we may judge by the pictures we have seen of the 



328 COMIC HISTORY Of ENGLAND. [bOOK IV. 

games, there was move labour than fun in the frolics of our forefathers. 
The contortions into which they seem to have thrown themselves 
while playing at bowls are quite painful to contemplate ; and the 
well-known game of quarter-staff consisted of a mutual battering of 
shins and skulls, with a pole about six feet in length and some 
inches in circumference. Tennis was introduced at this early date, and 
it is therefore erroneous to assign its invention to Archbishop Tennison, 
— a report which has been spread by some unprincipled person, whose 
career of crime commencing in a pun has ended in a falsehood. 

The professional fool was a highly respectable character in the 
middle ages; and the court jester was a most influential personage, 
who was allowed to criticise all the measures of the ministry. He was 
a sort of supplementary premier ; but, in later administrations — the 
present always excepted — the office of fool has merged among the 
members of the Government. It is a curious fact, that, judging from 
the portraits which have been preserved, the fools seem to have been 
the most sensible-looking persons of their own time ; and the proverb, 
that " it takes a wise man to make a fool," was, no doubt, continu- 
ally realised. The practical jokes of the jester were sometimes 
exceedingly disagreeable, for they consisted chiefly of blows and 
buffets, administered by a short wand, called a bauble, which he was 
in the habit of carrying. It was all very well when the fool's sallies 
happened to be taken in good part, but a witticism coming mal-d- 
propos, would often prove no joke to the joker, who would get soundly 
thrashed for his impertinence. An ancient writer* describes the 
functions of a fool to have consisted chiefly of "making mouths, 
dancing about the house, leaping over the tables, outskipping men's 
heads, tripping up his companions' heels," and indulging in other 
similar facctice, which, though falling under the head of fun for tho 
fool himself, might have been death to the victims of his exuberant 
gaiety. His life must have been one unbroken pantomime ; though 
its last scene was seldom so brilliant as those bowers of bliss and 
realms of delight in the island of felicity, which owe their existence 
to the combined ingenuity of the painter and the machinist. 

The spirit of chivalry had already begun to decline, or rather 
chivalry had lost its spirit altogether, tor when it once became diluted 
it took very little time to evaporate. The few real combats that were 
fought referred chiefly to judicial proceedings, in which points of law 
were decided by the points of lances. The combatants probably 
thought they might as well bleed each other as allow themselves to 
be bled by the hands of the lawyers. The tournaments had dwindled 
down into the most contemptible exhibitions, for the spears used were 
entirely headless, and an encounter generally ended in the clashing 
together of a couple of blunted swords or the flourishing in the air of 
a brace of huge choppers, so that as the antagonists kept turning 
about, they might be said to revolve round each others' axes. 

Before concluding our chapter on the manners and customs of the 
people at the date to which our history has arrived we may notice 

• Lodge, author of the 11'^'* Miscric. 4to, lo99. 



CTUr. IX. j MANNERS, CUSTOMS, ETC., OF THE PEOPLE. 329 

some regulations for apparel, by which it was ordered, not only that 
every man should cut his coat according to his cloth, but should 
select his cloth according to the means he had of buying it. Apparel 
was not the only thing with which the law interfered, but some Acts 
were passed, fixing the rate of meals to be allowed to servants, and 
thus ameliorating their condition. Articles of dress were subjected 
to the most stringent legislation, and tailors were of necessity guided 
by Parliamentary measures ; carters and ploughmen were limited by 
law to a blanket, so that the lightness of the restrictions permitted a 
looseness of attire, which was highly convenient. Persons not of 
noble rank were prohibited from wearing garments of undue brevity ; 
and it was only those of the highest standing to whom the shortest 
dresses were permitted. 

It was in the period to which the present chapter refers, that 
English pauperism first became the subject of legislation ; and it was 
an acknowledged principle, that the land must provide the poor with 
food and shelter, for civilization had not yet required the suppression 
of destitution by starvation and imprisonment. 

We have now brought down our account of the condition of the 
people, from the highest to the lowest, from the king on his throne to 
the pauper on his parish, from the royal robber in the palace to the 
sturdy beggar in the public thoroughfare. We have seen how 
England was torn to pieces by the thorns belonging to the Eoses, and 
how, after fighting about the difference between white and red, the 
union of both taught those who had been particular to a shade, the 
folly of observing so much nicety. Future chapters must develop 
the influence which this union produced, and will show the effect of 
that junction between the damask and the cabbage roses, which had 
only been brought about by dyeing them in the blood of so many 
Englishmen. 



BOOK V. 



CHAPTEK THE FIRST. 



HENEY THE SEVENTH. 



HOUGH Henry bad got the crown 
upon his head, he did not feel quite 
sure of being able to keep it there, for 
he knew there was nothing so difficult 
to balance on the top of a human pole 
as a regal diadem. He felt that what 
had been won by the sword must be 
sustained by that dangerous weapon, 
though he was not insensible to the 
fact that edged tools are frequently 
hurtful to the hand that uses them. 
He became jealous of Edward Plan- 
tagenet, a boy of fifteen, the heir of 
the Duke of York, and grandson of 
Warwick, the king-maker. This un- 
happy lad was sent to the Tower, lest 
his superior right might prove mightier 
than the might which Henry had dis- 
played on the field of Bosworth. 

The Princess Elizabeth, daughter 
of the Queen Dowager, who was known 
by the humbler name of Mrs. E. 
"Woodville, was let out of prison, to which she had been consigned by 
Richard the Third, who kept her closely under lock and key from the 
moment when he found it impossible to unite her to him in wedlock. 
Henry came up to London five days after the battle of Bosworth, 
and was met at Hornsey by the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, all 
di'essed in violet, which caused the new king to exclaim, "Ha! 
gentlemen, you wish me to take a hint. Your privileges shall be, 
like yourselves, in-violate ! " Ho then proceeded in a close chariot 
to St. Paul's, where he deposited his three standards ; and it has been 
suggested, that the celebrated Standard at Cornhill was one of those 
alluded to. The festivities in London were so numerous at the acces- 
sion, that the city became crowded to suffocation, and the " sweating 
sickness," which will be remembered as Stanley's old complaint, 
broke out among the inhabitants. When it had abated Henry began 
to think about his coronation, and he took an early dinner at Lambeth 
with the Archbishop of Canterbury — Thomas Bourchicr — to talk the 

330 




CHAP. 



*•] 



PARLIAMENT SUMMONED. 



331 



matter over. The king and the prelate soon came to terms over their 
chop for the performance of the ceremony, which took place on the 
30th of October, 1485, in the usual style , of elegance. The good 
archbishop was an old and experienced hand : for he had crowned 
Eichard the Third only two years before, and indeed the system of 
the prelate was, to ask no questions that he might hear no falsehoods ; 




Henry the Seventh taking a Chop with the Archbishop of Canterbury. 



but he was always ready to perform a coronation for anyone who 
could find his own crown, and pay the fees that were usual. 

A Parliament was now summoned, but when the Commons came 
together, it turned out that several of them had been attainted and 
outlawed in previous reigns without the attainders having been since 
reversed, and Henry himself was in the same doubtful predicament. 
The opinion of the judges was required in this disagreeable dilemma, 
but the intention in consulting them was only to get these accommo- 
dating interpreters of the law to twist it into a shape that would 
meet existing contingencies. With the usual pliability of the judges 
of those days, the parties whose opinion was asked gave it in favour 
of the strongest side, and Henry's having got the crown was declared 
to have cured all deficiencies of title. The Commons were obliged to 



332 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

have bills passed to reverse their attainders, but the king, like one of 
those patent fire-places which are advertised to consume their own 
smoke, was alleged to have cured the defects of his own title by the 
bare fact of his having got possession of the royal dignity. 

Having settled all matters concerning his claim to the throne, he 
began to think about his intended wife, Elizabeth. " I beg your 
pardon for keeping you waiting," said he to Miss Woodville; "but, 
really I have been detained by other engagements." The young lady, 
who had sometimes feared that her case was one of breach of 
promise, was glad to disguise her real annoyance, and saying that 
"It did not at all signify," she prepared for the much retarded 
nuptials. They were solemnised on the 18th of January, 148G, and 
they were no sooner over than Henry exclaimed, " Now, Madam, 
recollect I have married you, but have not married your family." 
This uncourteous speech had reference to old Mrs. Woodville, who had 
already written to know what her new son-in-law would do for her. 
" I will not have her in the house," roared Henry, with savage 
earnestness ; but he settled a small annuity upon her, which he 
enabled himself to pay by pocketing the whole of her dower. 

The queen became anxious for her coronation, as any woman 
might reasonably be ; but Henry put her off day after day, by 
exclaiming, "Don't be in a hurry; there's time enough for that 
nonsense." In this heartless manner he succeeded in adjourning the 
pageant for an indefinite period. 

Htyiry's new project was to get up his popularity by a tour in the 
provinces. Happening to put up at Lincoln, he heard that Lord 
Lovel, with Humphrey and Thomas Stafford " had gone with dan- 
gerous intentions no man knew whither." They had much better 
have remained where they were ; for Lord Lovel, after collecting a 
large body of insurgents, found himself quite unable to pay their 
wages, and at once disbanded them. He flew into Flanders ; but the 
two Staffords were taken in the very act of concocting an insurrection, 
for which Humphrey, the elder, was hanged, while Thomas, on 
account of his youth, was pardoned. 

Henry arrived on the 26th of April, 148G, at York, where Eichard 
the Third, though killed on Bosworth Field, was still living in some 
of the people's memories. The marking-ink, in which the tyrant's 
name was written on their hearts, being by no means indelible, Henry 
determined to sponge it out as quickly as possible. He tried soft 
soap upon some and golden ointment" upon others ; both of which 
specifics had so much effect that in less than a month the city rang 
with cries of " Long live King Henry ! " 

On the 20th of September, the Court newsman of the day announced 
the interesting fact that the happiness of the king s domestic circle 
had been increased by the birth of a son ; or, rather, the royal circle 
had been turned into a triangle by the arrival of an infant heir, who 
was named Arthur. 

We must now request the reader to throw the luggage of his 
imagination on board the boat, and accompany us to Ireland, where, 
on landing, we will introduce him, ideally, to a priest and a boy who 



CHAP. I.] 



THE YOUNG PRETENDER. 



333 



have just arrived in Dublin. The priest describes his young charge 
'as Edward Plantagenet, Earl of Warwick, which will astonish us not 
a little, inasmuch as our friend, the reader, will remember that we 
left the little fellow not long ago a close prisoner in the Tower. How 
he got out is the question which we first ask ourselves, which we 
answer by intimating, that he did not get out at all, but ho was only 
"a boy dressed up" to represent the young earl, and he played his 
part so well that many believed his story to be genuine. He had 
studied the character he represented, and had got by heart all the 
adventures of the young prince, together with a fund of anecdote that 
appeared quite inexhaustible. The juvenile impostor scarcely spoke 
a sentence that did not begin with " When I was a prisoner in the 
Tower," which made everyone 
believe that he had really been an 
inmate of that gloomy jail ; and 
the trick succeeded to a miracle. 
The urchin was proclaimed as 
Edward the Sixth, King of Eng- 
land and France and Lord of 
Ireland ; for such was the credu- 
lity of the Hibernians that they 
believed every word of tb( tale 
that had been told to them. 
Henry, desirous of exposing the 
fraud, had the real Plantagenet 
taken out of the Tower, for exhi- 
bition in the London streets ; but 
the Irish declared that the real 
thing was a mere imposition, 
and the mock duke the genuine 
article. They, in fact, illustrated 
that instructive fable, in which 
an actor, having been applauded 
for his imitation of a pig, was 
succeeded by a rival who went 
the whole hog and concealed in 

the folds of his dress a real brute, whose squeak was pronounced 
very far less natural than that of the original representative of tho 
porcine character. 

Henry becoming a little alarmed at these proceedings, began 
rushing into the extremes of levity and severity ; now pardoning a 
host of political offenders, and the next day, packing off the Queen 
Dowager — marked " Carriage paid, with care," — to the monks at 
Bermondsey. Lambert Simnel, for so the impostor was called, held 
out as long as he could, and even got up, by subscription, one coro- 
nation during the season; but upon Henry's taking measures to 
chastise him he soon shrunk into insignificance. After a battle at 
Stoke, the pretender and his friend, the priest, were taken into custody, 
when the latter was handed over to the church for trial, and the 
former received a contemptuous pardon, including the place of scullion, 




A Young Pretender. 



334 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [l300K V. 

to wash up the dishes and run for the beer in the royal household. 
He was at once placed in the kitchen, where his perquisites, probably 
in the way of kitchen stuff, enabled him to save a little money, and, 
in order to better himself, he subsequently sought and obtained the 
office of superintendent of the poultry yard, under the imposing title 
of the king's falconer. The priest, his tutor, seems to have dropped 
down one of those gratings of the past which lead to the common 
sewer of obscurity, in which it is quite impossible to follow him. We 
hear of him last looking through the bars of a prison, where he was 
left till called for, and, as nobody ever called, he never seems to have 
emerged from his captivity. 

The friends of the house of York now became clamorous at the treat- 
ment of the Queen Elizabeth, who had been kept in obscurity, and 
had urged " that little matter of the coronation " over and over again 
upon the attention of her selfish husband. " How you bother ! " he 
would sometimes exclaim to his unhappy consort, whom he would 
endeavour to quiet by the philosophical inquiry of " What are the odds, 
so long as you're happy?" — a question which, as Elizabeth was not 
happy, she found some difficulty in answering. At length, one morn- 
ing at breakfast, he said sulkily, " Well, I suppose I shall never have 
any peace till that affair comes off ; " and the necessary orders for the 
coronation of the queen were immediately given. Henry himself 
behaved in a very ungentlemanly manner during the entire ceremony, 
for he viewed it from behind a screen,* which was afterwards brought 
into the hall, to enable him to sit at his ease out of sight, and take 
occasional peeps at the dinner. He had refused to honour the pro- 
ceedings with his presence, having declared the ceremony to be 
" slow," and alleged the impossibility of his sitting it out after having 
once suffered the infliction. 

It was at about this period of the reign of Henry the Seventh that the 
court of Star Chamber was established ; and though it, ultimately,! 
"became odious by the tyrannical exercise of its powers," its intentions 
were originally as honourable as the most scrupulous of its suitors could 
have desired. It was founded in consequence of the inefficiency of 
the ordinary tribunals to do complete justice in criminal matters and 
other offences of an extraordinary and dangerous character, \ and to 
supply a sort of criminal equity — if we may be allowed the term — 
which should reach the offences of great men, whom the inferior 
judges and juries of the ordinary tribunals might have been afraid to 
visit with their merited punishment. 

It has been suggested with some plausibility that the court of Star 
Chamber derived its name from the decorations of the room in which 
it was held, though it is, perhaps, a more ingenious supposition of a 

* The old chroniclers affirm that he looked on " from behind a lattice." A modern 
authority has it that the king looked on at the dinner from behind a lettuce — spelt 
lattice — and had a magnificent salad before him during the proceedings. 

f Vide the valuable work on the Equitable Jurisdiction of the Court-of Chancerjr» 
omprising its Rise, Progress, and Final Establishment. By George Spence, Ksu., 
Q.C. Vol. i., p. 350. 

J Ditto, p. 351. 



CHAP. I.] henby's avakice. 335 

modern authority that the word " Star " was applied to the court in 
question because within its walls justice was administered in a twink- 
ling. It might, with as much reason, be suggested that the name had 
reference to the constellation of legal talent of which the tribunal was 
composed; for those stars of the first magnitude — the Lord Chancellor, 
the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Privy Seal, and the President of the 
Council, were all of them judges of the court. 

We must not, however, detain the reader any longer in a dull court 
of law, for we find ourselves served, in imagination, with a writ of 
Habeas Corpus, commanding us to bring him up for the purpose of 
inquiring by what right we hold him in the disagreeable duress of 
dry legal detail. 

In returning to Henry, we find him offering to act as mediator 
between Charles of France and the Duke of Bretagne, when, like every 
meddler in the disputes of others, he is unable to emerge from the 
position in which he has placed himself without that nasal tweak 
which is the due reward of impertinence. The taxes he was obliged 
to impose for the purpose of interference, undertaken, as he alleged, 
to curb the ambition of the French court, were very exorbitant, and 
particularly so on account of Henry's avarice, which induced him to 
put about ten per cent, of every levy into his own pocket. The people 
were, of course, dissatisfied, and the harshness used in collecting the 
subsidy irritated them so much in the north, that they took their 
change out of the unfortunate Duke of Northumberland, whom they 
killed, because he had the ill-luck to be employed in the invidious 
office of tax-gatherer. 

In 1490 Parliament liberally granted some more money to carry on 
the war with France, but Henry pocketed the cash, and sent some 
priests to try and compromise the matter with the enemy. It was 
not until four years afterwards, in the course of 1494, that he really 
went to work against the French, but he contrived to make it pay him 
exceedingly well, for he not only grabbed the subsidies voted for the 
purpose, but he converted them into so much clear profit, by getting 
his knights and nobles to bear their own expenses out of their own 
pockets. He kindly gave them permission to sell their estates without 
the ordinary fines, and many a gallant fellow sold himself completely 
up, in the hope of indemnifying himself by what he should be able to 
take from the French in battle. 

Henry had, however, completely humbugged his gallant knights 
and nobles, for he never intended them to have the chance of gaining 
anything in France by conquest, and had, in fact, settled the whole 
matter at a very early period. He had made up his mind not to 
spend more than he could help, and had been putting away the sub- 
sidies in a couple of huge portmanteaus, which served him for coffers. 
Under the pretence of doing something, he passed over with his army 
to France, and "sat down" before Boulogne; but his sitting down 
proved that he had no intention of making any stand, and a truce was 
very soon agreed upon. Two treaties were drawn up, one of which 
was to be made public, for the purpose of misleading the people, and 
the other was a private transaction between the two sovereigns. The 



336 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [l«JOK V. 

first only stipulated for peace, but the second secured the sum of 
£149,000 to be paid by instalments to Henry, who must have been 
under the necessity of ordering another coffer to receive the additional 
wealth that was thus poured in upon him. 

New troubles were, however, commencing to disturb the mind of 
the king, who received one morning, at breakfast, a despatch announc- 
ing the arrival, at the Cove of Cork, of another pretender to the Crown 
of England. "There seems to be no end to these vagabonds," he 
mentally exclaimed, as he read the document announcing that a hand- 
some young man had been giving himself out as Eichard, Duke of 
York, second son of Edward the Fourth, and legitimate heir to the 
monarchy. " Pooh, pooh ! " ejaculated Henry ; " the fellow was dis- 
posed of in the Tower long ago." But on perusing further, he found 
that the young man had met this objection by alleging that he had 
escaped, and had been for seven years a wanderer. It was exceed- 
ingly improbable that the royal youth had been so long upon the 
tramp, but his story was not very rigidly criticised by Henry's enemies. 
The wanderer introduced himself to the Duchess of Burgundy, who, 
after some enquiry, pronounced him to be genuine, and embraced him 
as the undoubted son of her dear brother Edward. She gave him the 
poetical name of the White Rose of England, but Henry, knowing 
that " the rose by any other name " would not " smell as sweet "in 
the nostrils of the English, gave out that the " White Bose " was a 
Jew boy of the name of Peterkin or Perkin Warbeck. It was further 
alleged that the lad had been recently a footman in the family of 
Lady Brompton, with whom he had been travelling. Peterkin was 
materially damaged in public opinion by getting the character of a 
mere " flunkey," and he was afraid to do more than hover about the 
coast without venturing to effect a landing. Though Henry had held 
the pretender up to ridicule, Perkin Warbeck's opposition was in 
reality no joke, and the king bribed a few of the party to betray their 
colleagues. Several were at once informed against, among whom 
were the two Ratcliffes, who denied their guilt in the usual Ratcliffe 
highway ; but their repudiation had no effect, for one of them was at 
once beheaded. Sir William Stanley, a very old friend of the Rich- 
mond family, whose brother, Lord Stanley, had put the battered 
crown on Henry's brow in the field of Bosworth, became an object of 
suspicion ; and thinking he should get off by a confession, he acknow- 
ledged everything he had been guilty of, with a supplement containing 
a catalogue of offences he had never committed. Thus, by denying 
too much for confession and owning enough for condemnation, he fell 
between two stools, one of which was the stool of repentance, and 
lost his head at the moment he fancied he was upon a safe footing. 

The party of Perkin Warbeck being discouraged by these events, 
and the people of Flanders having grown tired of the pretender's long 
visit, he felt that "now or never" was the time for his descent on 
England. The White Rose having torn himself away by the force of 
sheer pluck, attempted to transplant himself to the coast of Deal, but 
he found a Kentish knight ready to repel the Rose, and by a cry of 
" Go it, my tulips ! " encouraging his followers to resist all oppression. 



CHAP. I.] THE COBNISH INSURRECTION. 337 

The Whif/3 Eoso and his companions mournfully took their leaves, 
and as many as could escape returned with press of sail to Flanders. 
Henry sent a vote of thanks to the men of Kent, with a promise of gold, 
but the remittance never came to hand from that day to the present. 

Mr. P. Warbeck was now becoming such a nuisance in Flanders, 
that he was told he must really suit himself with another situation 
immediately. He tried Ireland, but the dry announcement of "no 
such person known " was almost the only answer to his overtures. 
As a last resource, and a proof of the desperate nature of his fortune, 
he actually threw himself upon the generosity of the Scotch, which 
was almost as hopeless as running his head against a stone wall ; 
but as it was just possible that Perkin Warbeck might be turned to 
profitable account against England, the Scotch opened their hearts— 
where there is never any admission except on business — to the adven- 
turous wanderer. James the Third, king of Scotland, chiefly out of 
spite to Henry, not only received Perkin as the genuine Duke of York, 
but married him to Lady Catherine Gordon, the lovely and accom- 
plished daughter of the Earl of Huntley, a relative of the royal house 
of Stuart. An agreement was drawn up between James of Scotland, 
of the one part, and Perkin Warbeck, of the other, by virtue of which 
Perkin was to be pitchforked on to the English throne, and was to 
make over the town of Berwick-on-Tweed — when he got it — as an 
acknowledgment to King James for his valuable services. After 
some little delay, the Scotch crossed the border to enforce Perkin's 
demand ; but when that individual arrived in England, he found him- 
self so thoroughly snubbed that he sneaked back again. 

Notwithstanding the utter failure of this enterprise, wilich had 
cost Henry not a penny to resist, he sent in a bill as long as his arm 
for the equipment of his army. The people w T ho had not been called 
upon to strike a single blow, and always liked to have, what they 
called "their whack for their money," were enraged at being asked 
to pay for a battle that had never happened. The men of Cornwall 
were particularly angry at having to give any of their tin, and came 
up to Blackheath, under Lord Audley, whose inexperience was so 
great that he might have furnished the original for the sign of the 
" Green Man," which so long remained the distinguishing feature of 
the neighbourhood. The battle of Blackheath was fought on the 
22nd of June, 1497, with a good deal of superfluous strength on one 
side, and consummate bad management on the other. On the side of 
the insurgents, one Flammock or Flummock, an attorney, was a 
principal leader, but he would gladly have taken out a summons to 
stay proceedings, had such practice been allowable. It is probable 
that this "gentleman one, &c." had been persuaded by some noble 
client who had an interest in the fight to appear as his attorney in 
this memorable action. 

Henry having gained every advantage in his recent transactions was 
desirous of completing his arrangements, by purchasing Warbeck, if 
anyone could be found base enough to sell that unfortunate individual. 
James of Scotland was too honourable for such a shameful bargain, 
though he was greatly embarrp*sed in assisting Warbeck, for whom 



33S 



COMIC I1ISTOKY OF ENGLAND. 



[book V. 



he head melted down his plate — an act worthy of the most fiddle- 
headed spoon — besides raising money on a gold chain he used to wear, 
and to which he was so attached, that he compared it to 

" Linked sweetness long drawn out," 

as he drew it forth from his pocket to put it into the hands of the 
pawnbroker. 

It was now intimated to Perkin Warbeck that he " had better go," 




Perkin Warbeck anil his Army. 

,'or his presence bad become exceedingly costly and embarrassing. 
"I've nothing more for. you, my good man," were the considerate 
w r ords of James as he despatched his guest to seek his fortune else- 
where, attended by a few trusty retainers, who stuck to him " through 
thick and thin," an attachment which, as he could hardly pay his 
own way, must have been very embarrassing. His wife's fidelity to 
him in bis ill-fortune was a beautiful as well as a gratifying fact, for 
she had, really, seen much better days, and the sacrifices she made in 
sharing the fate of a Pretender " out of luck " was quite undeniable. 
Perkm \Yarbeck made first for Cork in the hope of raising the 
Irish, but as he could not raise the Spanish, the former would have 
nothing t-> '1o with him. He next tried Cornwall, and marching inland 



CHAP, i] 



FLIGHT OF TEEKIN WARBECK. 



339 



he soon found himself at the head of a party of discontented ragamuffins, 
who happened to be ready for a row, without any ulterior views of a very 
definite character. He called himself Eichard the Fourth, and pene- 
trated into England as far as Taunton Dean, where Henry's forces 
had already collected. Warbeck was admirable in all his prelim- 
inary arrangements, and it was "quite a picture" to see him 
reviewing his troops ; but picture as he was, the idea of fighting put 
him into such a fright, that he always lost his colour. He was 
first-rate on parade, but quite unequal to the business of a battle, 
and, indeed, to use an illustration founded on a fact of our own times, 
he would have been invaluable in the Astley's version of Waterloo, 
though utterly contemptible in the original performance of that 
tremendous action. 

No sooner had Perkin Warbeck ascertained the propinquity of the 
enemy than he recommended that his forces should all go to bed in 




Henry the Seventh and Perkin Warbeck's Wife. 

good time to be fresh for action early in the morning. Having first 
ascertained that all were asleep, he stole off to the stable, saddled his 
horse, and having mounted the poor brute, stuck spurs into its side 

Z — 2 



340 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [EOOK V, 

until ho reached the sanctuary of Beaulieu in the New Forest. When 
this disgraceful desertion of their leader was discovered the rebels 
set up a piteous howl and threw themselves on the mercy of Henry, 
who ordered some to hang, and sent others to starve, by dismissing 
them without food or clothing. Lady Catherine Gordon, alias 
Mrs. P. Warbeck, who had been sojourning for safety at St. Michael's 
Mount in Cornwall, was brought before the king, who, touched by 
her beauty and her tears, experienced in his heart that truly English 
sentiment which declares, that " the man who would basely injure a 
lovely woman in distress, is unworthy of the name of a — a — British 
officer." He therefore sent her on a visit to the queen, who paid 
every attention to the fallen heroine. 

The next thing to be done was to rout Perkin Warbeck out of the 
hole into which cowardice had driven him. Henry was unwilling to 
disturb the sanctuary, but he sent his agents to parley with Perkin, 
who, finding himself regularly hemmed in, thought it better to come 
out on the best terms he could, and he accordingly emerged on the 
promise of a pardon. Henry was anxious to get a peep at the indi- 
vidual who had caused so much trouble, but thought it infra dig. to 
admit the rebel into the royal presence. The king, therefore, reverted 
to his old practice of getting behind a screen, an article he must 
have carried about with him wherever he went, that he might, unseen, 
indulge his curiosity. This paltry practice should have obtained for 
him the name of Peeping Harry, for we find him, at more than one 
period of his reign, skulking behind a screen, in the most ignoble 
manner. Perkin was made to ride up to London, behind Henry, at 
a little distance, and on getting to town he was sent on horseback 
through Cheapside and Cornhill, as a show for the citizens. There 
were the usual demonstrations of popular criticism on this occasion, 
and there is no doubt that amid the gibes and scoffs addressed to the 
captive the significant interrogatory of " Who ran away from Taunton 
Dean? " was not forgotten. 

After taking a turn to the Tower and back for the accommodation of 
the inhabitants at the East End, who desired to be gratified with a 
sight of the Pretender, Perkin was lodged in the palace at West- 
minster, where a good deal of liberty seems to have been allowed 
him. He however chose to run away, and being caught again, he 
was made to stand in the stocks a whole day before the door of 
Westminster Hall, where he was made to read a written confession, 
which was interrupted by an occasional egg in his eye, or cabbage 
leaf over his mouth, for such are the voluntary contributions which 
a British public has always been ready to offer to helpless impotence. 

The next day the same ceremony with the same accessories was 
repeated at Cheapside, in order to give the East End an opportunity 
of enjoying the sport which the West End had already revelled in. 
Perkin Warbeck was then committed to the Tower, where he and the 
unfortunate Earl of Warwick became w'hat may be termed fast friends, 
for they were bound tightly together in the same prison. Warbeck, 
who was in every sense of the word an accomplished swindler, 
succeeded in winning the good opinion, not only of his fellow captive, 



3HAP. I.] 



EXECUTION OP REREIN WARBECK. 



341 



but of the keepers of the jail, three of whom, it is said, had actually 
undertaken to" murder Sir John Digby, the governor, for the sake oi 
getting hold of the keys, and releasing the two captives. It was now 
evident that Warbeck would never be quiet, and Henry, feeling him 
to be a troublesome fellow, determined to get rid of him. On the 
16th of November, 1499, Warbeck was arraigned at Westminster 
Hall, and being found guilty as a matter of course, was executed od 



L^b 




Ferkin Warbeck Reading his Confession. 

the 23rd of the same month at Tyburn, where, cowardly to the last, 
he asked the forgiveness of the king, even on the scaffold. 

Walpole, in his "Historic Doubts "—a work that throws every- 
thing into uncertainty and settles nothing — gives it as his opinion 
that Perkin Warbeck was really the Duke of York ; but had Walpole 
been able to tell " a sheep's head from a carrot," he would never havo 



342 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [HOOK V. 

been guilty of such a piece of confounding and confounded blundering. 
We who give no encouragement whatever to Historic Doubts are toler- 
ably sure that Perkin Warbeck was merely a fashionable swindler, 
for he had none of that personal courage or true dignity which would 
have redeemed his imposture from the character of mere quackery. 
He contrived to ruin poor Warwick, or at all events to hasten his 
destruction by implicating him in a conspiracy, which of his own 
accord he never would have dreamed of. 

When put upon his trial, the hapless earl — who, though only twenty- 
nine years of age, was from long seclusion in a state of second child- 
hood, if indeed he had ever got out of his first — confessed with piteous 
simplicity all that had been alleged against him. He was beheaded 
on Tower Hill the 24th* of November, 1499 ; and it was said that his 
death was the most merciful that could be conceived, for in losing his 
head he was deprived of that which he never knew how to use, and 
of the possession of which he did not at any time seem sensible. 
Warbeck's widow continued to go by the name of the White Eose, 
when Sir Mathew Cradoc, thinking it a pity that she should be "left 
blooming alone," offered to graft her on his family tree, and the White 
Eose consented to this arrangement. 

Henry had long been anxious to marry his daughter Margaret to 
James of Scotland, and he sent a cunning bishop, most appropriately 
named Fox, to act the part of a match-maker. The sly old dog brought 
the matter so cleverly about that the marriage was agreed upon, and 
this union led to the peaceful union of the two countries about a cen- 
tury afterwards. The young lady got but a small portion from her stingy 
father, and her husband made a settlement upon her of £2000 a year, 
but he got her to accept a paltry compromise. The meanness of 
the arrangements may be judged of by the ridiculous fact that King 
James and his young bride rode into Edinburgh on the same 
palfrey. 

Henry's eldest son, Arthur Prince of W ; ales, had been already 
married to Catherine, fourth daughter of Ferdinand of Spain, who 
promised two hundred thousand crowns, half of which he paid down, 
as a wedding portion. The young husband died soon after, and Ferdi- 
nand naturally asked for his money and his child back again. The 
English king had pocketed the greater part of the cash, which he was 
not only quite unwilling to refund, but he had serious thoughts of pro- 
ceeding for the balance of his daughter-in-law's dowry. He therefore 
consented to affiance her to his second son, Henry, in compliance with 
the only condition upon which Ferdinand agreed to waive his claim 
to the cash already in hand, and he even promised to pay the rest of 
the portion at his "earliest convenience." 

Henry himself, or as we may call him for the sake of distinction, 
the "old gentleman," had lately lost his wife, and he went at once 

* Hume says the 21st. Another authority says the 28th. It is not with a mere 
wish to "split the difference" *hat we adopt tiic medium date of the 24th, but we 
have good reasons for stating that to be the exact day, and Mr. Charles Mac&rlane, 
in his admirable "Cabinet History of England" has likewise named the 24th of 
November as the precise time of Warwick's execution. 






CHAP. I.] DEATH OF HENRY THE SEVENTH. 343 

into the matrimonial market to see whether there was anything upon 
which it might be safe to speculate. He however wanted to conduct 
his operations with such extraordinary profit to himself that nothing 
seemed to tempt his avarice. His ruling passion was for "cash down," 
and to obtain this he fleeced his subjects most unmercifully, though 
he employed the disreputable firm of Empson and Dudley to collect 
the amount of the various extortions he was continually practising. 
These two men were little better than swindlers, though as lawyers 
they adhered to the rules of law, and indeed they kept a rabble 
always in the house to sit as jurymen. They had trials in their own 
office, and would often ring the bell to order up a jury from down- 
stairs, just as anyone in the present day would order up his dinner. 
Dudley got the name of the Leech, from his power of drawing, and 
indeed he would have got the blood out of a blood-stone if the oppor- 
tunity had been afforded him.* 

Henry had now but one formidable enemy left, in the person of 
young Edmund de la Pole, the nephew of Edward the Fourth, and 
son and heir to the Duke of Suffolk. This turbulent individual 
renewed the cry in favour of the " White Eose," which was said by 
a wag of the day to be raised on a pole, after the fashion of the 
frozen-out gardeners. 

Suffolk soon had the mortification of finding that he had not the 
suffrages of the people, for the rush to the Pole was anything but 
encouraging. "Ye Pole theyreforre," says Confines, " dydde cutte 
his stycke," and became a penniless fugitive in Flanders. He was 
ultimately surrendered by Philip, the archduke, who had received 
Suffolk as a visitor, but gave him up with a lot of sundries he was 
transferring to Henry, who promised to spare the prisoner's life, and 
did so, though he left word in his will that his successor had better 
kill the earl, as he would otherwise prove troublesome. 

In the course of the year 1509, Henry's health became very indif- 
ferent, and he had repeated attacks of the gout, every one of which 
put him in ill-humour with himself in particular, and the world in 
general. Every fresh twinge was paid with interest upon one or more 
of his unfortunate subjects ; and when he got very bad he would be 
most indiscriminate in his cruelty. He fixed upon a poor old alderman 
named Harris, who died of sheer vexation at his ill-treatment before 
his indictment came on ; and at this remote period we hope we shall 
not be accused of injuring the feelings of any of the posterity of poor 
Harris by saying, that he was literally harassed to death through tho 
unkindness of his sovereign. During his illness Henry would do 
justice occasionally between man and man, but a favourable turn in 
his malady, a quiet night, or a refreshing nap, would bury all his 
good resolutions in oblivion. At length on the night of the 21st of 
April, 1509, he died at Kichmond, leaving behind him a will in which 

* Empson has been described by Hume as a man of " mean birth and brutal 
temper," who of course, did all the bullying of this disreputable firm, while Dudley, 
who was " better born, better educated, and better bred," acted in the capacity of 
what may be termed the decoy duck of the concern ; or, in other words, the latter 
suared the game which the former savagely butchered. 



344 COMIC HISTOK1 OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V 

he bequeathed to his son and heir the delightful task of repairing all 
his father's errors. 

However easy it maybe for an executor to pay the pecuniary debts 
of a testator with plenty of assets in hand, the moral responsibilities 
which have been left unsatisfied, are not so soon provided for. It is 
true that a good son frequently makes atonement to society for the 
mischief done by a bad parent ; but this, though it strikes a sort of 
balance with the world, does not prevent the father from being still 
held accountable for his deficiencies. 

Henry died in the fifty-third year of his age, and had he lived a 
day longer, he would have reigned twenty-three years and eight 
months, or as Cocker has it, in the simplicity of his heart, " had he 
been alive in the year 1700, he would have reigned upwards of two 
centuries." Our business, however, is not with what he might have 
done, but what he actually did, and we therefore record the fact, that 
he died on the 21st of April, 1509, and was buried in the magnificent 
chapel of Westminster Abbey, which he built, and which is called 
after him to this very day and hour that we now write upon.* 

It is often the most painful part of our labours to give characters 
of some of the sovereigns who pass under our review in the course of 
this history. To those who have only known Henry the Seventh as 
the chivalrous and high-minded prince that fought so gallantly with 
Eichard the Third on the field of Bosworth, it will be distressing to 
hear that the Eichmond of their dramatic recollections is nothing 
like a true portrait of the actual character. At all events, if he had 
virtues in his youth they were not made to wear, for they became 
sufficiently threadbare to be seen through before he had been a single 
month an occupant of the throne of England. Even his ambition 
seems to have been little more than a medium he had adopted for 
gratifying his avarice, and it is now pretty clear that he rather wanted 
the crown for what it was worth in a pecuniary point of view, than for 
the honourable gratification which power when rightly used is 
capable of conferring on its possessor. Hume tells us that " Henry 
loved peace without fearing war," which is true enough ; for war 
afforded him a pretext for raising money, while peace, which he 
generally managed to arrange, gave him an opportunity of pocketing 
the cash he had collected. War, therefore, was never formidable to 
him, for he usually manoeuvred to keep out of it ; but he made the 
rumour of it serve as an excuse for taxing his people. He was 
decidedly clever as a practical man, though exceedingly unprincipled, 
but several salutary laws were passed in his reign ; one of the best of 
which was an act allowing the poor to sue in found pauperis. Con- 
sidering how often the law reduces its suitors to poverty, it is only 
fair that those who are brought to such a condition should still be 
allowed to go on, for it is like ruining a man and then turning him out of 
doors to say that the courts shall be closed against such as are penniless. 

Another important and useful measure of Henry's reign was that 
by which the nobility and gentry could alienate their estates, or cut 

• A quarter to one. a.m.. April 13th, 1847. 



CHAP. II.] 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 



345 



off the tail, which limited everything to the head of a family. This 
apparently liberal act was passed for the benefit of the king himself, 
who wished his nobles to be able to sell everything they had got for 
the sake of paying the expenses of the wars, which otherwise must 
have been prosecuted partly out of Henry's own pocket. He owed 
more to fortune than to his own merit, and even the conspiracies that 
were got up against him from time to time helped to sustain him in 
his high position, as the shuttlecock is kept in a state of elevation by 
constant blows from the battledore. 



CHAPTEE THE SECOND. 



HENRY THE EIGHTH. 




ENEY the EIGHTH, 
only surviving son 
and successor of 
Henry the Seventh, 
took to his father's 
crown and sceptre on 
the 22nd of April, 
1509, amid general 
rejoicing, for he was 
an exceedingly 
gentlemanly youth of 
eighteen when he 
came to the throne, 
of which his parent 
had recently been 
but a bearish occu- 
pant. If young 
Harry had never 
lived to play old 
Harry, his popularity might have survived him, for the people had 
become disgusted with the conduct of his father, and there never was 
a finer chance for a young man than that which offered itself to the 
new sovereign. 

Nothing could exceed the grossness of the adulation which was 
poured out upon him at his accession, and the perfection of the art of 
puffing in England may, perhaps, be ascribed to this period of our 
history. His countenance was likened to that of Apollo — a falsehood 
for which, in his features, no apolo-gy can be found ; his chest was 
declared to be that of Mars, though it was evidently his pa's, for in 
early youth his resemblance to his father was remarkable. Clemency 



34G COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

was declared to be seated on his ample forehead, equity was pro- 
nounced to be balancing itself on the bridge of his nose, intelligence 
was recognised lurking in ambush among his bushy hair ; and even 
Erasmus attributes to him the acuteness of the needle, with other 
intellectual qualities of an exalted character.* 

It is sad to reflect that the philosopher, when he takes the paint- 
brush in hand to dash off the portrait of a king, is apt to become a mere 
parasite, and will not abstain from staining his own character by 
daubing with false colours the canvas of history. Thus, even Erasmus 
used hues his friends would be glad to erase, and has covered over 
the black spots in Henry's character with that pink of perfection 
which makes cotdeur dc rose of everything. It is not to be wondered 
at, that in setting out upon the voyage of government, Henry received 
■'' one turn a-head " — if we may be allowed a nautical expression — 
while the engines of flattery were at work on all sides of him. It is 
to be regretted, for the sake of himself as well as for the good of his 
subjects, that truth was not at hand to give him that friendly" shove 
astern " which has saved many from precipitating themselves on the 
rocks that always lie in the course of greatness and power. 

As if determined to begin as he intended to go on, Henry looked 
out at once for a wife, and, considering how often he was destined to 
undergo the marriage ceremony in the course of his reign, it was as 
well that he should lose no time in commencing the career that lay 
before him. In his first matrimonial adventure he appears to have 
let others choose for him, instead of making a selection for himself, 
and Catherine of Aragon,- the widow of his elder brother Arthur, was 
pointed out to him as an eligible parti for nuptial purposes. 

This marriage was strongly recommended by the political faculty 
as a saving of expense, for the lady would have been entitled to a large 
pension as widow of Prince Arthur, and her friends in Spain, had she 
been returned upon their hands, would have wanted to know something 
about the 150,000 crowns she had received as a marriage portion. Of 
course, the whole of it was gone, and it was thought that Henry would 
be killing a whole covey of birds with one stone if he would consent 
to take her as his wife, inasmuch as he would thus extinguish her 
claims to a pension, and prevent any awkward questions being asked 
in Spain as to the portion she had brought with her to England. 
Henry, feeling a sort of intuitive consciousness that he should have 
plenty of opportunities to select a wife for himself, agreed to take, as 
a beginning, the one that had been chosen for him by others, and 
accordingly, on the 3rd of June, 1509, the lady, who was eight years 
older than himself, became his wife, at Greenwich. The royal couple 
were not destined to roll down the hill together in after life, whatever 
they may have done on the day of their union, which was doubtless 
marked by all those sports of which the locality was susceptible. 
Catherine, though a little passic, looked exceedingly well, for, in order 
to render her appearance more attractive, she was dressed in white, 

* Wc are indebted to Mr. Tytler, who is generally correct to a tittle, for these 
interesting particulars. — Sec his " i.ifc of Henry the Eighth," p. 10 of the 2nd edition. 



EXECUTION OP EMPSON AND DUDLEY. 



347 



CHAP. II.] 

and " all Greenwich," says Lord Herbert, " did not, on that day, con- 
tain a daintier dish of whitebait than the Lady of Aragon." The 
royal pair were crowned on the 24th of June, 1509, being exactly 
three weeks after marriage, up to which period, at least, there was no 
indication of that Bluebeardism which subsequently broke out with 
so much fury in the royal character. 

Henry had on his accession thrown himself into the arms of his 
grandmother, the old Countess of Eichmond, upon whose advice he 



"O'^.v Tig, 









<z* 



mm i j 

mw€A 




Henry the Eighth and Catherine of Aragon. 

acted in the selection of his ministers. The old lady died in the 
same month in which her grandson was married and crowned, at the 
respectable age of sixty-eight ; and it is a curious fact that she had 
been married three times, so that in his multiplicity of wives, Henry 
the Eighth may be said to have simply improved upon the example 
set him by his grandmother.* 

The first political act of Henry the Eighth's reign, was to lay the 
heads of Empson and Dudley upon the scaffold. These rapacious 
extortioners had been the tools of his father's avarice, but had con- 
trived to feather their own nests tolerably well ; and Henry kept them 



* Her friend and counsellor. Jack Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, says of her, that 
" a reddy witte she had to conceive all thyngs, albeit they were ryghte dcrke." 



348 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [rsOOK V. 

in prison for the purpose of getting out of them the wealth they had 
acquired by their rapacity. He detained then i in the Tower a whole 
year before he beheaded them, and continued to squeeze out of them 
everything they possessed, for he was one of those who never threw 
an orange away without thoroughly sucking it. Having drained it 
at length completely dry by about the 17th of August, 1510, he, on 
that day — to pursue the allegory of the orange — declined allowing 
them any quarter, but sent them to Tower Hill, where execution was 
done upon both of them. 

Henry finding everything going smoothly in England, fell into the 
common error of those who having every comfort at home must needs 
look abroad for the elements of discord. He entered into a league 
against Louis the Twelfth of France, in favour of Pope Julius the 
Second and his father-in-law, Ferdinand of Aragon ; but the latter 
kept helping himself to large slices of territory, and made use of his 
allies for the purpose of furthering his own interests. Henry's troops 
were therefore compelled to play an ignoble part, being cooped up 
in a French town, while the other soldiers overran Navarre, and 
appropriated everything they could lay their hands upon. Amazed 
at their moderate success upon land they attempted to retrieve, them- 
selves by a sea-fight, but the ruler was not then found by which 
Britannia subsequently learned to rule the waves, and the French 
fleet escaping into Brest, found shelter in their country's bosom. 

In 1513, Henry being anxious to obtain ascendency over the seas, 
appointed Sir Edward Howard, one of the sons of the Earl of Surrey, 
to accomplish the grand object. Howard was so exceedingly conii- 
dent of success that he sent a private note requesting the king to 
come and see how beautifully he (Howard) would " spifflicate " — for 
such was the word — the presumptuous enemy. Henry by no means 
relished the invitation, and replied to it by desiring Howard to " mind 
his own business" as admiral. This nettled the naval commander, 
who, during the engagement, jumped into one of the enemy's ships, 
and could not jump back again ; while Sir John Wallop, upon whom 
he had relied, exhibited little of that usefulness which his name seems 
to indicate. Poor Howard was, accordingly, killed ; and Henry, 
flattered by his parasites, came to the resolution that no good would 
be done till he himself set out for France at the head of an army. 

In a few days he arrived off Boulogne, where he instructed the 
artillery to make as much noise as they could with their guns, in order 
that he might intimidate the foe, and encourage himself by the roaring 
of his own cannon. His object was undoubtedly to insinuate to the 
enemy, " We are coming in tremendous force, and so 3 r ou had better 
keep out of the way for fear of accidents." 

Henry, who had various other great guns on board besides his 
artillery, was accompanied by Thomas Wolsey, his almoner, lately 
risen into favour, together with the celebrated Bishop Fox, and a 
number of courtiers. He passed his time very pleasantly at Calais 
for about three months, when he heard that the celebrated Bayard — 
the chevalier sans peur et sans rcprochc — was moving forward. The 
English king bounded on to his horse with the elasticity of iDdia- 



CHAP. II.] 



HEXKY AT B0UI.CUNK. 



319 



rubber, and advanced at the head of fifteen thousand men— Bishop 
Fox, with characteristic cunning, keeping in the rear, and Wolsey 
following the Fox at a prudent distance. 

Twelve hundred French approached under the cover of a regular 
English fog, which with a most anti-national spirit favoured the 
enemies of the country to which it owed its origin. Bayard would 
have commenced an attack, but he was overruled by some of his com- 
panions ; and Henry, thinking the foe afraid to "come on," sat 
himself down in a pavilion made of silk damask, foolishly believing 
that the art of the upholsterer could uphold the dignity of a sovereign. 

TLus he sat, like the proprietor of a gingerbread stall at a fair, 
until a terrific shower came on, and the silk streamers were streaming 




Henry's Tent. 



with wet, and the satin chairs could no longer be sat-in with comfort 
or convenience. The tent was turned literally inside out by the 
wind, like an umbrella in a storm, and Henry was glad to exchange 
his gaudy booth for a substantial wooden caravan, that was speedily 
knocked together for his reception. Though the two armies did not 
fight they commenced operations by mining and countermining, but 
instead of making receptacles for gunpowder they were only making 
gutters for the rain, which took advantage of every opening. The 
Count of Angouleme (afterwards Francis the First) now T arrived at 



350 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [iJOOK V 

headquarters, and scoured the country, which lie was the better able 
to do from the quantity of w T ater which had fallen on many parts of 
it. 

Henry now received a visit from the Emperor Maximilian, and tbe 
English king made the most magnificent preparations for the 
interview ; he equipped himself and some of his nobles in gold and 
silver tissue — though it was said the latter wore a tissue of falsehoods, 
for their finery was all sham — and he borrowed every bit of jewellery 
in his camp for his own personal bedizenment. He had a garniture 
of garnets in his hat, and even his watch, a tremendous turnip, had a 
diamond, weighing several carats, on its face, while a magnificent 
ruby matched with the rubicundity of his forehead, over which tbe 
gem was gracefully disposed. The nobles were sprinkled all over 
with paste, and looked effective enough at the price which Henry had 
given for their embellishment. Maximilian, who was in mourning, 
presented a dismal contrast to all this finery, for he wore nothing but 
a suit of serge, which, however, turned out far more serviceable than 
the fancy costume of Henry and his courtiers. The rain came on so 
furiously that unless the silks were washing silks they must have 
been fearfully damaged by the wet, while the running of the hues one 
into the other, caused Henry's party to come off with — in one sense — 
flying colours. It was at length determined to make an attack upon 
the French, and the Emperor Maximilian having got his old serge 
doublet trimmed up with a red cross, and pinned an artificial flower 
in his hat, directed the operations of the English. The French 
cavalry began pretty well ; but whether Maximilian looked so great 
a guy as to terrify the horses, or through any other cause, it is 
certain that a panic ran through the ranks, and they commenced a 
retreat at full gallop, using their spurs with tremendous vehemence. 

One of the fugitives, a venerable marshal, broke his baton in beating 
a retreat over the back of his charger ; and Bayard, who had refused 
to run, seeing the baton of his comrade broken, exclaimed, " Ha ! he 
has cut his stick ! " which afterwards became a by-word to describe 
the act of a fugitive. The illustrious chevalier sans penr et suns 
reproche became a prisoner, but thoroughly enjoyed the joke of his 
countrymen having run away, and laughingly called it the battle of 
the spurs, from the energy with which they had plunged their rowels 
into tbe Hanks of their chargers. 

A meeting between Bayard, Maximilian, and Henry, has been 
described very graphically in the Histoire dc Jinn Chevalier;* and it 
appears from this authority that the two latter bantered their 
prisoner in a somewhat uncourteous manner. Bayard contended that 
he had become captive by a voluntary surrender; upon which the 
emperor and the king burst out into a fit of rude laughter, as if they 
would have said, " That's a capital joke ; " but Bayard protested that 
he might have got away bad be chosen to run for it. They only 
replied to him by saying " Well, well, my fine fellow, we've got you, 
and it matters little whether you took yourself into custody or ho\s 

• Vol. ii., p. 80. 



GIIAr. II. J THOMAS WOLSEY. 351 

else you came here ; but here you unquestionably are, and there's an 
end of the discussion." 

After taking Tournay, where he held a number of tournaments, and 
which was actually sacrificed by the inhabitants for the sake of a bad 
pun* — worse even than the accidental one in the text — Henry 
returned to England, and arrived on the 24th of October, 1513, at 
Richmond. 

Thus ended th 3 expedition to France ; but important events had 
been happening at home, for the Earl of Surrey had been chevying 
the Scotch over the Cheviot Hills, and at last fought them at Flodden, 
where James the Fourth unfortunately fell ; and the English queen, 
making a parcel of his coat, hat, and gloves, sent them to Henry as 
a proof of the dressing the Scotch had experienced. 

It had been intended to resume the war with France, but Louis 
the Twelfth suggested a compromise, by which he married Mary, 
the sister of the English king, and Mary thus had the honour of 
mollifying the asperity of the feelings that the two monarchs had 
hitherto indulged. 

We have already mentioned the name of Wolsey, who accompanied 
Henry abroad in the capacity of almoner ; and it is now time that 
we give some particulars of a person who played one of the most 
important parts in the drama of history. 

Thomas Wolsey was born at Ipswich, in March, 1471, of humble 
parents ; but the popular story of his father having been a butcher is 
probably a fable, to which the fact of his having had a stake in the 
country has perhaps given some likelihood. It is doubtful whether 
he was brought up to the block, though he might have been obliged 
to give his head to it at a later period of his life, when he incurred 
his master's displeasure. It has been said that Wolsey senior could 
not have been a butcher, because he left money to his son by will ; 
but business must have been bad indeed if he could not bequeath a 
couple of legacies of thirteen-and-fourpence each, with one of six- 
and-sevenpence, and another of eleven shillings, in addition to a sum 
of ten marks, which constitute altogether the entire amount of cash 
that was actually disposed of by the old gentleman to his wife, his 
son, and his executors. f If the elder Wolsey was really a butcher, 
it is certain that he had not a sharper blade in his establishment 
than his son Tom, who was sent early to school, and having pro- 
ceeded to the University of Oxford, got on so well as to acquire the 
name of the Boy Bachelor. He soon became a fellow, and was one 
of the cleverest young fellows in the college, where he was intrusted 
to educate the three sons of the Duke of Dorset. In this capacity, 
by the application of a great deal of flattery — or, as some would have 
termed it, Dorset Butter — while at home with the young gentlemen 
for the Christmas holidays, he got the patronage of their noble father, 
who presented him with the rectory of Lymington. Here he is said 

* The pun alluded to was couched in these words, which were used by the 
citizens : — " Que Tournay n'avoit jamais tourne ni encore ne tournerait ." 

t His will was published by Dr. Fiddes, from the Eegistry at Norwich. 



352 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [lJOOK V. 

to have disgraced himself by getting into a row at a fair, but wo can 
scarcely believe that the clergyman of the parish would have for- 
gotten himself so far as to give his love of gaiety full swing, and 
allow him to carry absurdity to the height which such a proceeding 
seems to indicate. He could not have very far compromised his 
character, or he would not have been employed by Henry the Seventh, 
on delicate and important missions which a parson fresh from " the 
fun of the fair " would never have been allowed to execute. Some of 
his detractors have broadly asserted that Wolsey was inebriated, and 
fled in shame from his cure, but we really believe that he was never 
at any period of his life intoxicated with anything but ambition, 
which undoubtedly is quicker in turning the head than the strongest 
juice that ever dropped from the ripest juniper. Fox, the Bishop of 
Winchester, strongly recommended. Wolsey to Henry the Eighth, 
who, already knowing something of the young man, made him King's 
Almoner ; and on taking Tournay, in France, hesitated whether he 
should burn it down, or make Wolsey its bishop. The latter of the 
two evils fell upon the town, which was placed under the ambitious 
churchman's ecclesiastical cognizance. He rose rapidly to the sees 
of Lincoln and York, became Lord High Chancellor of England, and, 
on the 7th of September, 1515, received his crowning honour, in the 
hat of a cardinal. 

We must now put Wolsey by for a little bit, though we shall have 
to bring him out again and again, for we must not keep others 
waiting by lingering too long in the accomplished churchman's com- 
pany. We left the Princess Mary just married to Louis the Twelfth, 
though her heart had long been given to Charles Brandon, Viscount 
Lisle, who retained the principal of her affections, though the French 
king got for a time the interest. He however enjoyed it for only two 
months when he died, and Brandon, the remainder-man, became the 
tenant in possession, by marrying Mary after three months' widow- 
hood. Henry was at first very angry with the match, but the young 
couple rushing into his presence like two repentant lovers in a farce, 
and Wolsey interceding with all the air of the "smart servant," 
the king was persuaded to give that cheapest of all donations — his 
blessing. Brandon's good sense and modesty went some way in 
reconciling Henry, for Viscount Lisle never presumed upon his con- 
nection with the family of royalty. He did not talk continually of 
" My brother-in-law the king," as he might have done ; but he took 
the following motto, in which there is a strong indication of his 
" knowing his place," and being determined on keeping it. 

Cloth of gold do not despise. 

Though thou be match'd with cloth of frizc ; 

Cloth of frize be not too bold, 

Though thou be match'd with cloth of gold.* 

Francis the First had succeeded to the French throne and the Arch- 
duke Charles of Austria had come in for the whole of the Spanish 
monarchy by the death of his maternal grandfather, Ferdinand of 

• <: Granger's Biog. Hist.," vol. i., p. 82. 



CHAP. II.] 



ELECTION OF EMPEROR. 



353 



Aragon. He was a maternal grandfather in a double sense, for he 
had grown very old womanish, and the adjective maternal was by no 
means inappropriate. Francis and Charles became competitors for 
the empire just vacant by the death of Maximilian, and the coun- 
tenance of Henry was eagerly sought by both of the disputants. 
Henry had formerly hoped to have been himself a successful candi- 
date, but finding he had no chance, he wrote to Charles, saying he 




Henry pardoning the young Couple. 

"wished he might get it," which were the genuine sentiments no 
doubt of the English sovereign. The election fell upon Charles, and 
Francis affected to take the consequence as if it had been of no 
consequence at all, though it was clearly otherwise. 

The election for the rank and dignity of Emperor was one of the 
most disgracefully corrupt proceedings that was ever witnessed, even 
in the palmiest days of the boroughmongering system in England, 
somo centuries afterwards. The candidates were Francis the First 
of France, Charles the Fifth, king of Castile, Henry the Eighth of 
England, and the Elector Frederic of Saxony. The bribery was on 



354 COMIC IIISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V 

a scale of vastness never before heard of, and it is said that Charles 
scattered his — or his people's — money among the independent 
electors with frightful prodigality. The electors of Cologne, which 
was not then in such good odour as might have been expected from 
the pleasant purity of its Eau, pocketed no less than 200,000 crowns ; 
but the mother of Francis the First declared, that " the electors, 
among them all, had not received from the king, her son, more than 
100,000 crowns,"* so that the loss of his election is very easily 
accounted for. Francis, nevertheless, imagined he had secured five 
electors out of the seven ; but those worthies, who were dishonestly 
receiving bribes from both parties at once, eventually gave to Charles, 
who paid them best, the benefit of their suffrages. Poor Saxony, 
expecting in a contest with such powerful opponents that he might 
get " double milled," resigned in favour of Charles ; and Henry, 
whose committee had been sitting to conduct his election, until it was 
clear there would be nothing to conduct, threw his influence into the 
same scale. 

On the 28th of June, 1519, the polling commenced, and each elector 
as he came up to give his vote was, no doubt, received with the shouts 
and salutations that are usual on all similar occasions. "When the 
Elector of Cologne appeared to plump for Charles, after having quite 
as plumply promised his support to Francis, the jeers of the populace 
were tremendous, and an egg was even thrown for the purpose of 
egging on the crowd to acts of violence. The unprincipled elector 
looked contemptuously on the oval missile, as if he would have said 
that he did not care about submitting to the yolk, after the extensive 
" shelling out " that had already taken place for his benefit. 

The countenance of Henry was still the object of both their wishes, 
and Francis asked the English king for an interview, which was 
arranged to take place in France in the ensuing summer. Upon the 
appointment having been made, Charles ran over to England, to be 
the first to get Henry's ear, and seeing Wolsey's influence, did his 
utmost to win over that wary individual. The latter secretly aspired 
to the papal chair, and it may perhaps be said that his origin is proved 
to have been that of a butcher's son, because he began to look at every- 
thing with a pope's eye, and hoped to eat his mutton in the Vatican. 
Such frivolous reasoning is so unworthy the dignity of history, that we 
reject it at once, and confine ourselves to the simple fact, that the 
triple crown of Rome was always running in or about the head of the 
ambitious churchman. 

The time now drew near for Hemy to meet Francis the First, who, 
thinking to flatter Wolsey, requested that the management of the 
gorgeous scene might be left entirely to the taste of the cardinal. 
Wolsey's reputation as a gctter-up of spectacles was exceedingly well 
deserved, for even when at home, he lived in a style of gorgeous mag- 
nificence. Every apartment in his house at Hampton was a set scene 
< if itself, with decorations and properties of the most costly character. 
Lie kept eight hundred supernumeraries always about him as servants, 

* Ellis's Letters, vol. i., p. 155. 



CHAF. II.] THF FIELD OF THE CLOTII OF GOLD. 357 

"of whom nine or ten were noblemen, fifteen knights, and forty 
esquires." * Not contented with an ordinary chair, he always 
sat with a canopy over his head, and he allowed no one to approach 
him except in a kneeling attitude. His dress matched his furniture, 
for he wore a crimson satin surtout, with hat and gloves of scarlet, 
and even his shoes were silver-gilt — like a pair of electrotyped high- 
lows. His liveries surpassed even those of the sheriffs of London ; 
and his cook positively wore satin or velvet, so that this functionary 
was dressed more daintily and delicately than the most recherche of 
his own dinners. Wolsey, when he appeared in public, carried an 
orange, stuffed with scents, in his hand ; for he used to say affectedly 
that there w T as always an exhalation from a vulgar crowd, which gave 
him the vapours. 

The preparations for the interview between Francis and Henry 
having been entrusted to such a master of all ceremonies as Cardinal 
Wolsey, could not fail to be made on a scale of unprecedented gran- 
deur ; and the place where the two monai'chs met acquired the name 
of the " Field of the Cloth of Gold," from the extreme gorgeousness 
of the scene in which they acted. The arrangements were nearly 
complete, and Henry had removed to Canterbury, for the convenience 
of the journey to France, when Charles of Spain, being jealous of 
the anticipated meeting, ran over to the Kentish coast, to say a few 
w r ords to the English king before he left for the Continent. 

Charles was received in a most amicable manner, but happening to 
see the late Queen Dowager of France, then Duchess of Suffolk, who 
might, could, would, or should have been his own wife, he turned so 
spoony and sentimental, that he could take no pleasure in the festivi- 
ties prepared for him. "No, thank you, none for me!" was his 
almost uniform answer to every inquiry whether he would have a 
little of this, that, or the other, that was placed before him. He lost 
first his spirits, then his appetite, and ultimately his time, for he was 
fit neither for negociation nor anything else during his stay in 
England. Having remained four days, he went home with a " worm 
in the bud " of his affections, and as he looked at the sea before him, 
he was overheard muttering that he "should never get over it." His 
courtiers thought he was alluding to the ocean but he was in reality 
soliloquising on the loss of his heart, which he left behind him ; but 
happily this is a sort of parcel that can without much difficulty be 
recovered. On the day he re-embarked for Flanders. Henry set sail 
for France, having only put off his putting off out of compliment to 
his illustrious visitor. 

A plot of ground between Guisnes and Ardres was fixed upon as 
the place of meeting, and a temporary palace — of wood, covered 
with sailcloth — was erected there, for the person and the suite of the 
English sovereign. Cunning workmen had painted the sacking at 
the top to look like square stones ; but it was sacking, nevertheless, 
as the inmates found out in rainy weather. The walls glittered with 
jewels, like the gingerbread stalls at a fair, and the tables groaned, or 

* Fiddes 1 "Life of Wolsey," pp. 106, 107. 



358 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

rather creaked, under massive plate, which proves that the wood 
must have been rather green which had been used in making the 
furniture. Francis, making up his mind not to be outdone, got an 
enormous mast, and throwing an immense rickcloth over the top, 
stuck it up umbrella-ways in the part of the field he intended to 
occupy. A whirlwind having come on, the old rickcloth got inflated 
with the height of its position, and was soon carried away by tbe 
puffing it experienced. Tbe whole appai'atus took, for a moment, tbe 
form of a balloon ; and the workmen, seeing it was all up, ran away 
just in time to avoid the consequences of a collapse, which almost 
instantly happened. Francis was glad to find more substantial lodg- 
ings in an old castle near the town of Ardres, where Wolsey speedily 
paid him a morning visit. The cardinal, who had only intended to 
make a short call, remained two days, in which he arranged an 
additional treaty with the French king, who agreed to pay a large 
sum for the neutrality of England in Continental matters, and " as 
to Scotland," said Francis, " you and my mother shall settle that 
between you ! " " I? " exclaimed Louisa of Savoy, with surprise, 
" I don't know anything about diplomatic affairs ! " but the cardinal 
flattered the old lady that she did; and by blandly remarking "he 
was positive that they should not fall out," he persuaded her to join 
him in the arbitration, for he felt pretty sure he should get the best 
of the bargain. 

Business being concluded, Henry took out of his portmanteau a 
new dress of silver damask, ribbed with cloth of gold, and in this 
splendid suit of stripes he went forth to meet his brother Francis. 
The 7th of June, 1520, and the valley of Andren, were the time and 
place of their first coming together, when, according to previous 
arrangement, they saluted and embraced on horseback. Had one 
waited for the other to dismount and advance, they might have been 
standing there to this day, but by a clever act of equestrianism, they 
contrived to go through the form of introduction on the backs of two 
highly-trained steeds, to the great admiration of the circle in the 
midst of which they exhibited. Francis spoke first, but confined him- 
relf to a commonplace observation on the length of the distance he 
had come, and an allusion to the extent of his possessions and power. 
Henry replied somewhat cleverly, that " the power and possessions 
of Francis were matters quite secondary in importance to Francis 
himself, whom he, Henry, had come a long way to see," and thus 
contempt was adroitly blended with compliment. The royal couple 
then dismounted, and took a turn arm-in-arm, as if in friendly con- 
versation, after which they went together into a tent and partook of 
a very sumptuous banquet. Spice and wine were served out in great 
profusion, in a spirit of liberality equivalent to that which dispenses 
"hot elder, with a rusk included, a penny a glass," from many 
modern refectories. There was plenty of a sort of stuff called 
" ipocras," given to the people outside ; but as we never tasted any 
"ipocras" and strongly suspect that it is a decoction from ipecac- 
uanha, we cannot answer for tbe quality of the article in which the 
people " outside " were allowed to luxuriate. 



chai\ in.] 



HENRY THE EIQHTH. 



353 



CHAPTER THE THIRD. 




HENRY THE EIGHTH (CONTINUED). 

FTER the banquet, the kings came 
out of the tent, and Hall, the 
English annalist, got a near view 
of the French sovereign. Whether 
Hall had been immersed too 
thoroughly in " ipocras " to allow 
of his taking a clear view of 
matters in general, or from any- 
other cause, it is certain that the 
picture he gives of Francis the 
First is very unlike the portrait 
which Titian has left to us. Hall 
makes the French king "high- 
nosed and big-lipped," with 
"great eyes and long feet," as if 
Hall saw everything double while 
under the influence of " ipocras ; " 
but Titian, by toning down the 
nose, so as to make its bridge in 
conformity with the arches of the 
eyebrows, has turned out a not unpleasing portrait of the great original. 
It had been previously announced that jousts would form part of 
the festivities, and accordingly, on the 11th of June, these entertain- 
ments began in a very spirited manner. The " braying " of trumpets 
made an appropriate introduction to the sports, and the overture was 
echoed by. braying of a more animated character. Each king fought 
five battles every day, and, of course, came off victoriously in every 
one ; for the nobles and gentlemen of those times were most com- 
placent in submitting their heads as dummies to aid the amusements 
of royalty. The season of the Field of the Cloth of Gold terminated 
with a fancy dress ball, in which Henry made himself very conspicuous 
by the character and richness of his disguises. The vastness of his 
wardrobe enabled him to astonish everyone by the effectiveness of his 
" making-up," and two or three of his masks were models of quaint 
ugliness. 

At the end of a fortnight of foolery and feasting the two monarchs 
separated, and the memorable meeting of the Field of the Cloth of 
Gold passed from the hands of the costumier, the carpenter, and the 
cook, into those of the historian. Its chief result was to beggar many 
of the French and English nobles who had taken part in it, and gone 
to expense they could not support to outdo each other in magnificence. 
Thus did the Field of the Cloth of Gold prepare the way for a sort of 
threadbare seediness, into which many belonging to both nations 



360 



COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 



[ROOK V. 



were plunged by their having done themselves up in an insane attempt 
to outdo each other. 

Our account of the great meeting on the Field of the Cloth of Gold 
would not be complete without the following anecdote. Francis rose 
very early one morning, and made his way to the quarters of Henry, 
who was in bed and fast asleep on the arrival of his illustrious visitor. 
The French king shook the English monarch cordially by the whipcord 
tassel on the top of his nightcap, when the latter, springing out of bed, 
responded to the playful summons. " You see," said Francis, "I am up 
with the lark," to which Henry added, " And I am ready for the bird 
you have specified." The English king then expressed himself much 




Politeness of Francis to Henry. 

obliged for such a mark of attention, and cast over the neck of Francis 
" a splendid collar," being, no doubt, the " false one " taken off on tho 
night previous. It is believed by some that Henry, not knowing the 
object of the intrusion, collared the intruder at once ; but the version 
of the story which we have already given appears to be the mora 



CHAP, ftl.] HENRY AttlllVES IN LONDON. 361 

probable. Francis, in his turn, clasped a bracelet on Henry's arm, 
or rather, according to an ill-natured reading of the affair, one cuffed 
the other for the collaring he had experienced. Henry rang his bell 
for his valet, but Francis would not permit the attendance of 
any servant, but laid out Henry's clean things with his own hand, 
taking in his shaving water, putting out his highlows to be cleaned, 
and taking them in again.* 

Henry, on his return from the Field of the Cloth of Gold, took 
Gravelines in his way, and gave a look in upon Charles of Castile, who 
saw him home as far as Calais. This far-seeing prince saw that 
Wolsey had it all his own way with the English king, and the 
emperor took every possible opportunity of trying to " come over " the 
proud prelate. Charles promised his " vote and interest " to Wolsey, 
in the event of any vacancy occurring in the papal chair, and gratified 
his avarice by making him bishop of Placentia and Badajos. 

Henry, after making a short stay at Calais, returned to Dover, and 
reached London, without a penny in his pocket, for both he and his 
courtiers were completely cleaned out by their recent extravagance. 
On the king's arrival, Buckingham got himself into trouble by his 
impertinent remarks on the expedition to France, and the dreadful 
waste of money that it had occasioned. He particularly pointed his 
sarcasms against Wolsey as the originator of all the expensive 
fooleries that had been committed, and he took every opportunity of 
gainsaying or otherwise insulting the upstart cardinal. On one 
occasion, Buckingham had been holding a basin for Henry to wash 
his hands, when Wolsey, anxious to have a finger in everything 
belonging to the king, plunged his paws into the same water. The 
duke, desirous of administering a damper to the cardinal, spilt a 
quantity of the liquid over his shoes, when Wolsey becoming angry, 
threatened to "set upon his skirts," which meant in other words, 
that the cardinal would be down upon him. 

There is no doubt that Wolsey took every opportunity of damaging 
Buckingham ; but the duke himself was obnoxious to the king, and 
gave particular offence by hiring a servant who had been a member 
of the royal household. Buckingham had been leading the life of a 
country gentleman, at what he modestly called his " little place " in 
Gloucestershire, when he received an invitation to Court ; and, 
foolishly flattering himself that this little attention was shown to him 
on account of his merits, he unsuspectingly obeyed the summons. 
When he had proceeded some way on his journey, he found he was 
dodged by three disagreeable looking fellows in block tin, who turned 
out to be members of the king's body guard,"and who were sure to be 
at his heels whenever he looked round over his own shoulder. 

Having put up at Windsor for the night, he had no sooner been 
shown to his bedroom than he saw the same three fellows loitering 
in the yard of the inn he was stopping at. Once or twice, after 

• The minuteness with which these particulars are detailed, may cause a doubt 
nf their veracity, but we refer the reader to Mr. Fraser Tytler's " Life of Henry tha 
Eighth," in p. 123 of which the anecdote we have given is fully recorded. 



3fi9 



COMIC HISTOllY OF KNGLAND. 



BOOK V. 



retiring to rest, he looked out of his window and fancied he saw ono 
of the three knights crouching in a corner beneath his lattice, and ho 
called out to the figure to be off ; but the approach of daylight 
revealed to him the outline of an innocent water-butt, which he had 
during the hours of darkness imperatively desired to quit the 




The Duke of Buckingham suspects that he is watched. 



premises. " I know you well," he cried several times to the tub, 
"and you had better go at once; " but his expostulations were of 
course disregarded in the quarter to which he was idly addressing 
them. Declining to stop at Windsor, he determined to breakfast the 
next morning at Egham ; but he had no sooner entered the coffee- 
room than he was insulted by one Thomas Ward, a creature of the 
Court, which completely took away the appetite of the duke, of whom 
it was cruelly said that he could eat neither egg nor ham in the 
hostel at Eg-ham. He then rode on to Westminster, where he 
got into his barge and pulled down with the tide as far as 
Greenwich, but stopped at Wolsey's house on the way, and scut 
in his card to the cardinal, who sent out word that he was indis- 
posed, and declined seeing his visitor. " Umph," said the duke, 
" I'm sorry to hear that, but I'll step in, and take a glass of wine, if 
you've no objection ! " After a good deal of whispering among Wolsey's 
servants, Buckingham was shown into the cellar, where he took a 
draught of wine from the wood ; but finding no preparations made for 
him, he changed colour — that is to say, he looked rather blue — and 



CHAP. III.] EXECUTION OE BUCKINGHAM. 363 

proceeded on his journey. As he continued pulling along the river, 
a four-oared, manned by yeomen of the guard, whose captain acted as 
coxswain, hailed Buckingham in his barge, which was instantly 
boarded by the crew of the cutter. 

The duke having been towed ashore, was at once arrested, and 
marched in custody down Thames Street, with a mob at his heels, all 
the way to the Tower. There were a few cries of " Shame ! " and 
other demonstrations of disappi'oval, but the sympathy of the by- 
standers having evaporated in a few yells and a mild shower of cabbage 
leaves, Buckingham was left in the hands of his captors. On the 13th 
of May, 1521, Buckingham was brought to trial on the charge of 
tempting Friar Hopkins to make traitorous prophecies. This Hopkins 
was an old fortune-telling impostor, who had predicted all sorts of good 
luck to poor Buckingham, none of which ever fell to his lot ; so that 
he had the double mortification of having been cheated out of his cash, 
for promises that never came true, and being punished for them just 
as much as if they had all been literally verified. Buckingham de- 
fended himself with great courage ; and on being convicted as a traitor, 
he solemnly declared that he was " never none : " an indignant mode 
of exculpation, in which grammar was sacrificed to emphasis. He died ; 
very courageously, on the 17th of May, 1521, and the barbarous cere- 
mony of his execution created the greatest disgust among the populace. 

Almost at the very moment that Henry was being guilty of the 
enormity we have described, he was putting himself forward as the 
champion of Beligion. He professed the greatest horror of the errors 
and heresies of Luther, whom, in a letter to Louis of Bavaria, he 
proposed to burn, books and all, in an early bonfire. Finding that 
the great Beformer was not to be thus made light of, Henry turned 
author, and by taking up the pen, he, instead of consigning his an- 
tagonist to the flames, regularly burnt his own fingers. There is no 
doubt that the royal scribbler had been thoroughly well crammed for 
the task he undertook ; and Leo the Tenth having read the book, was 
good-natured enough to say, in the language of our old friend the 
Evening Paper, that "it ought to be on every gentleman's table." 
He published a sort of review of it in a special bull, and made the 
remark, that the author might fairly be called " The Defender of the 
Faith," a title which was not only adopted by Henry himself, but has 
been held, to this very day, by all subsequent English sovereigns. 

Francis and Charles, the respective monarchs of France and Spain, 
had all this time continued their bickering, and they at length agreed 
to ask the arbitration of Henry. He declined interfering personally, 
but sent Wolsey in his stead, and the cardinal arrived at Calais on the 
30th of July, 1521, with a magnificent retinue. His establishment 
consisted of lords, bishops, doctors, knights, squires, and gentlemen in 
crimson-velvet coats, with gold chains round their necks, which gave 
to the whole party an aspect of exceeding flashiness. Wolsey, not- 
withstanding the number and splendour of his followers, was at a 
very trifling expense, for he billeted the whole party at Bruges upon 
the unfortunate emperor, or rather upon his more unfortunate subjects, 
who were ordered by their sovereign to find everything that was 



S64 COMIC HISTOilV OF EttGLAXD. [fcOOK V. 

wanted and put it all down to him in that doubtful document, the 
bill, which between a potentate and his people seldom meets with 
settlement. Rations of candles, wine, sugar*, were served out every 
evening to the whole of Wolsey's suite, so that all who wanted it had 
the ingredients of grog, while the candles enabled such as were 
so disposed to make a night of it. 

After spending ten days in the enjoyment of every luxury, at the 
cost of the contending parties, thus showing that he understood how 
to make the very most of his position as an arbitrator, Wolsey sud- 
denly declai*ed that he saw no chance of Charles and Francis being 
reconciled. The wily cardinal, having been regularly got hold of by 
Charles, drew up a treaty extremely favourable to the emperor, and 
even arranged that he should marry Henry's daughter Mary, though 
the young lady had been previously betrothed to the son of Francis. 

This alteration in the domestic arrangements of the parties con- 
cerned was simply declared to be " for the good of Christendom,"! 
and Henry agreed to the plan with a nonchalant assurance that he 
really thought it the best thing that could be done, for he did not see 
"how his said affairs might have been better handled. "J Pope 
Leo the Tenth, who was in league with Wolsey, the emperor, and 
Henry, in their joint arrangements for smashing France, agreed to give 
the dispensation for the proposed marriage ; but Leo died before the 
nuptial treaty had been ratified. 

On the death of Leo the Tenth, Wolsey lost no time in offering 
himself as a candidate for the vacant popedom. Secretary Pace was 
sent off at a slapping pace to Rome, to see the members of the con- 
clave, and solicit their votes and interests for the English cardinal. 
Pace, however, seems to have been too slow to be of any use, and 
Adrian, Cardinal of Tortosa, who was put up almost in joke, and cer- 
tainly to create a diversion against Giulio de Medici, one of the other 
candidates, was returned by a large majority. Wolsey's name does 
not appear to have been even mentioned on the occasion, and Pace 
took no step to further his employer's interests. 

Francis having been thoroughly disgusted at the treatment he had 
experienced, tried, in the first place, to win Henry back to his cause; 
by entreaties, and next by intimidation, in pursuance of which ho 
shabbily stopped the pension of the English sovereign. When two 
kings fall out, their subjects are usually the sufferers ; and accord- 
ingly, the English in France and the French in England became the 
objects of royal spitefulness. Francis stopped all the British vessels 
in his ports, and arrested the merchants, while Henry took his revenge 
by imprisoning the French ambassador and making a wholesale 
seizure of all property belonging to Frenchmen. At length, the 
English monarch became so angry, that he sent a challenge by the 
Clarencieux Herald, offering to fight Francis in single combat, that 
each might have the satisfaction of a gentleman ; but whether one. 
refused to go out, or the other drew in, we are not aware, for we only 
know that the dispute did not end in a duel. 

• Cavendish. f Gait's "Life of Wolsey," book ii., p. 4:?. J State I Vipers, 



CHAI\ III.] 



HENRY IN TRAINING. 



365 



Doubts have been thrown upon the sincerity of Henry in thu3 
inviting Francis to a personal encounter, but there is every reason to 
believe that, in the words of the Bell's Life of the period, " the British 
Pet meant business, though the Gallic Cock, having already won his 
spurs in other quarters, was not disposed to place them in jeopardy." 
Henry, with the customary determination of the English character 




The citizens of Bruges supplying Wolsey's suito with provisions. 



had, no doubt, put himself regularly into training for the event to 
come off, and it is not unlikely that ho may have frequently amused 
himself by a little practice on the effigy of his intended antagonist. 
The skill he thus acquired in planting his blows and putting in the 
necessary punishment at the proper points would have been highly 
serviceable had he ever been allowed to meet his man, and it is eveo 



36G 



COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND 



[BOOK V. 



Baid that a bottle of claret was placed in the middle of the head of 
the figure, so that Henry might fully realise the result of his sparring 
exercise. We know not how far we may put faith in these ancient 
records, but we are justified in giving them to the reader, who will 




Henry practising previous to challenging Francis. 



separate, no doubt, the wholesome corn of fact from the chaff of mero 
tradition. 

In the meantime, Charles came over on a visit to his intended 
father-in-law, and was introduced to his infant bride, who was a child 
in arms, at his first interview. Henry and Charles indulged in a 
succession of gaieties, for which neither possessed the means, and 
Charles even borrowed money of Henry, while the latter made up the 
deficiency by running into debt to a frightful extent with his own 
people. 

The king now began to find that he " must have cash," and he at 
once applied to Wolsey to assist him in raising more money. On these 
occasions Henry spoke in the most flattering manner to the cardinal, 
calling him endearingly his " Linsey Wolsey," in a word, " his com- 
forter." The prelate readily entered into his master's views, but 
candidly pointed out the difficulties of extracting anything more from 
the London merchants. They had lately advanced £20,000 
in a forced loan, and it was determined to vary the demand 
upon them, by substituting direct taxation for the empty form of 
borrowing. Wolsey ordered the mayor, the aldermen, and the most 



CHAP. III.] OKIGIN DP THE INCOME-TAX. 3G7 

substantial citizens of London to attend at his chambers,* when he 
announced to them the fact that the sovereign was hard up, and 
required pecuniary assistance. " What, again ! " cried a voice which 
the cardinal pretended not to hear, but proceeded to say that he 
should require a return of the amount of their annual moneys from 
all of them. This proposition was the origin of that income-tax with 
which England has since been burdened ; and the lovers of antiquity 
will feel some consolation in the knowledge that they suffer under a 
grievance which is hallowed by its ancient origin. There is to many 
a great comfort in being victimised under venerable institutions, and 
there are individuals who would rather be plundered in conformity 
with what are termed time-honoured principles, than be fairly dealt 
with upon any new system. 

While, however, we are talking of the simpletons of the present 
day, the dupes and victims of the period of Henry the Eighth are 
being kept waiting in the presence of Wolsey. " Gentlemen," said 
the cardinal, " the country is in danger, and the king wants your 
hearts ; " an announcement which was received with cheers of assent, 
until it was followed up by a declaration that he must also try the 
strength of their pockets. Murmurs of dissent followed this intimation ; 
but Wolsey went on boldly to say that the king would only require 
one-tenth of what they had, and if they could not live on the other 
nine-tenths, he did not know how they would ever be satisfied. " How 
will his majesty take the contribution?" at length exclaimed one of 
the aldermen. " In money, plate, or jewels," cried the cardinal ; 
" but at any rate the thing must be done, and therefore go about it."f 
A promise was made that the money should be repaid out of the first 
subsidy, which would have been a sort of improvement upon the old 
practice of borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, for it would have been 
picking Peter's two pockets at once, and ransacking one under the 
pretext of replenishing the other. 

Henry certainly had the knack of making his people's money go a 
great way, for it went so far when it passed into his hands, that it 
never came back again. The enormous sums he had extorted from 
the citizens soon melted away in dinner parties, pageants, and other 
expenses, so that he was at last, after a lapse of eight years, obliged 
to summon a Parliament. It was opened in person by the king, and 
the Commons elected Sir Thomas More as their speaker. 

Sir Thomas More presented one of those rare unions of wisdom and 
waggery which may occasionally be found, and he was often sent for 
to the palace to make jokes for his sovereign. The king would often 
take him out on the leads at night, where after scrambling through 
the cock-loft, and getting out upon the tiles, Sir Thomas and his royal 
pupil would stand for an hour at a time, conversing on the subject 
of astronomy. The dryness of the topic was ever and anon relieved 

* Supposed to have been over the gateway of Inner Temple Lane, where Henry 
and Wolsey shared the rooms now occupied by their successors, Honey and Skelton 
the hairdressers. 

tHalL 



868 COMIC HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

by the salient wit of More, who had a new joke for every new star, 
and appropriate puns for all the planets. He was the original author 
of that hrilliant but ancient series of pleasantries on the "milky whey," 
which have since become so universally popular ; and to him may 
perhaps be attributed the venerable but not sufficiently appreciated 
remark, that the music of the spheres must proceed from the band of 
Orion. 

The king and Wolsey congratulated each other on having got Tom 
More as Speaker, for they thought he would act like one of themselves, 
and that he would soon laugh the people out of all the money they 
might be required to furnish. Henry and the cardinal foolishly 
imagined that the man who sometimes made a joke could never be 
serious ; but they found out their mistake, for he proved himself an 
excellent man of business when occasion required. Wolsey thought 
to produce an effect by attending the House in person, and making a 
speech on that most unpromising topic the " crisis," though it was 
not such a threadbare subject in those days as in our own, when a 
" crisis " may almost be looked for as a quarterly occurrence. 
Happily, if we are remarkable for our rapidity in getting a "crisis" 
up, we have also a wonderful knack of putting it down again with 
equal promptitude. 

The speech of Wolsey was listened to without reply ; for, every 
member of the House considering the cardinal's intrusion a breach of 
privilege, remained mute and motionles. Irritated by their silence, 
the crafty churchman called up one of the members by name, and 
asked him for a speech ; but the call might just as well have been 
for a song, since the individual indicated did nothing more than rise 
up and sit down again. Finding it impossible to get a good word, or 
indeed any word at all from the Commons, the cardinal lost his temper, 
and declared that, having come from the king, he should certainly 
wait for an answer ; but Tom Moore, the Speaker — who, by-the-by, 
deserved the title, for he was the only one that spoke — began to show 
his wit by saying that the fact was, the Commons were too modest 
to open their mouths in the presence of so great a personage. Wolsey 
withdrew in dudgeon, and after a few days' debate, it was at length 
agreed to give the money that had been asked, but to take five years 
to pay it in. Though Henry would no doubt have been perfectly 
willing to make a sacrifice for ready money, and allow a considerable 
discount on a cash transaction, his minister tried to accelerate the 
mode of payment without offering any equivalent for a restriction of 
the term of credit. 

The autumn of the year 1525 was rendered remarkable by the con- 
fusion into which the Londoners were thrown, in consequence of the 
almanack-makers and astronomers having tried to give an impetus to 
their trade by throwing into the market a parcel of very alarming 
prophecies. It was predicted that the rains would be so tremendous 
as to convert the whole wealth of the metropolis into floating capital ; 
and the merchants, fearing they might not be able to keep their heads 
above water, ran in crowds to the suburbs. Several parted with 
svery thing they possessed, and their foolish conduct in making their 



CHAP, 



III.] 



LEATH OP POPE ADMAN. 



369 



arrangements for being swamped formed a precedent, no doubt, for 
a case of recent occurrence, in which an individual of average income, 
having been led away by a prophecy that the world had only two 
more years to run, invested the whole of his property in the largest 
possible annuity he could procure for two years, being under the firm 
impression that beyond that time neither he nor his heirs, executors, 
or assigns would have the opportunity of enjoying a farthing of any 
surplus. As the world did not keep the appointment that had been 
made for it by the calcu- 
lator of its final arrange- 
ments, he was left without 
a penny when the time he 
had assigned for its duration 
was up ; and thus many 
had got rid of everything 
in 1525, under the expec- 
tation that all their sorrows 
and possessions would be 
drowned in the inundation 
that did — ■ not happen. 
During the time the panic 
prevailed, a few of the 
tradesmen and artificers 
did their best to put it to a 
profitable account, and a 
turner of the time, who was 
so clever at his business 
that he could turn a penny 
out of anything, con- 
structed several thousand 
pairs of stilts, and, placing 
them in his window labelled 
" Stilts for the inundation," 
he obtained numerous 
customers. 

Wolsey's attention was 
suddenly called off from 
matters at home by a 
fresh vacancy in the 
popedom, occasioned by 
the death of Adrian. 
The English cardinal immediately despatched a letter to his 
royal master, saying how unfit ho was for the pontificate, when 
Henry, instantly taking the hint, and saying to himself, "Oh! ah! 
exactly ! I see what Wolsey wants," wrote off strongly to Eome in 
favour of his election. Powerful efforts were made to secure his 
return and push him to the top of the poll, but though he got several 
votes, he was completely beaten by Giulio de Medici, who was elected 
to the papal chair by a very large majority. Wolsey bore his dis- 
appointment, to all appearances, exceedingly well, but the probability 

BB 




Election of Pope. Getting to the top of the pole. 



370 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. (_HOOK V. 

is that he saw the policy of keeping on good terms with the new pope, 
who made the cardinal his legate for life, and granted him a hull 
empowering him to suppress a number of monasteries, for the purpose 
of taking the money they possessed to endow his own colleges. 

Henry and Wolsey declared that the cash should be devoted to 
"putting down" that "Monster Luther," as they sometimes called 
him, or that "fellow Luther," as they spoke of him now and then, 
by way of change, though his fellow did not exist at the period when 
the term was applied to him. Among the many irons that Henry 
now had in the tire was an Italian iron, with which he stood a pretty 
fair chance of burning his fingers, for he had interfered in the disputes 
between Francis the First of France and the Emperor Charles, who 
was at war in Italy. Francis had laid himself down on the pavement 
before Pavia, resolved to leave no stone unturned to place a curb on 
the foe and pave his own way to victory. As he lay under the walls, 
the cream of the Imperial army was poured down upon him with a 
savage violence that causes the blood to curdle at the bare recital. 
Thoroughly soured in his hopes, Francis plunged into the very thick 
of the Imperial cream, and beating around him with his sword in all 
directions, reduced seven men, with his own hand, to the inanimate 
condition of whipped syllabubs. His valour availed him little, for he 
was removed— to adopt the spelling of the period — in custardy. He 
was kept in captivity in Spain, at the strong fortress of Pizzichitone, 
from which he wrote home to his mother — probably for the means of 
replenishing his sac de nuit — and concluded his note with the memor- 
able words, tl Tout est perdu liors I'honneur," which, for the benefit of 
that portion of the public who may have learnt their " French without 
a master," and have, consequently, never mastered it a,t all, we trans- 
late into " All is lost, excepting honour." 

Francis being now completely down, Henry and Wolsey proposed to 
Charles that they should combine in making the very most of the help- 
less position of their prostrate enemy. Fortunately for the French 
king, his two opponents were not only deficient in funds, but had be- 
gun to quarrel ; on the old principle, perhaps, that when Poverty stalks 
in at the door, Love hops out at the window. The pay of Charles's 
forces had fallen fearfully into arrear, and they declared they would 
no longer go on fighting on half salaries. It was therefore determined 
to bring the military season to a close ; and the grand ballet of action, 
having for its plot the invasion of France — of which Henry had drawn 
out the scheme, and which was to have put forward the strength of a 
double company, comprising a powerful combination of the English 
and Imperial troupe — was postponed for an indefinite period. 

Henry, who was ready to sell himself to either party, finding Charles 
too poor to purchase him, offered himself without reserve to Francis. 
Terms were soon arranged, by which Henry was to receive by instal- 
ments two millions of crowns, with a permanent annuity when the 
chief sum was paid off ; and Wolsey was also handsomely provided 
for — at least in the shape of promises. While the agreement was 
most solemnly ratified by Francis himself and the chief of the French 
nobility, the Attorney and Solicitor-General of France privately pop^ 



CHAP III.] LIBERATION OF FRANCIS. 371 

peel a protest on to the file, in order that the king, who was particular 
about his honour, might not have his scruples shocked should he 
subsequently feel disposed to break his word and fly off from his 
agreement. He found considerable difficulty in effecting his release 
without swearing to at least a dozen things he never intended to per- 
form, and when the document was brought to him, full of concessions 
to Charles, he affixed his signature with the indifference of a man 
putting his name to a bill, regardless of the amount, which he does 
not mean to liquidate. He had no sooner got out of custody, and 
found himself comfortably seated before his palace fire, than Sir Thomas 
Cheney and Dr. Taylor walked in with a message from Henry the 
Eighth, to congratulate Francis on his delivery. " If you'll take my 
advice," said one of the visitors, at the same time handing his card, with 

2Br. (Eaglcr, 

Jurist. 

upon it, to give weight to his words, " you will pay no attention to the 
liabilities you have entered into with regard to the Emperor." " In- 
deed, Doctor, I don't mean to trouble myself upon the subject," was 
the king's reply ; " and in fact I have kept up a running accompaniment 
of private protests to every obligation I have undertaken." Dr. Taylor 
explained to him that he was on the safe side, for the bonds he had 
given were bad in law, having been executed while the king was under 
duress, and therefore not legally responsible. Thus did the chivalrous 
Francis, who had written so nobly about having lost everything 
except his honour, present an early instance, of which later times 
have furnished so many, of the largest talkers being the smallest 
doers, or perhaps rather the greatest dos in the universe. 

We have now to relate a curious personal anecdote of Henry the 
Eighth, which might have caused a considerable abridgment of his reign , 
much in the same way that the want of strength in the bowl in which 
the three wise men of Gotha went to sea, put a premature period to 
their little history.* Henry, in his early manhood, was one day 
running after a hawk, perhaps to put a little salt on its tail in the idle 
hope of catching it. The bird was actively retreating before its royal 
pursuer, and had just quitted a hedge by hopping the twig, when it 
traversed a ditch on the other side, which Henry endeavoured to clear 
by the aid of his leaping-pole. The attempt somehow failed, and th<? 
monarch pitching on to his head in the soft mud, sunk into it as fai 
as his neck, and became planted with his legs in the air for several 
seconds. Happily a footman named Edmund Moody — "You all 
know Tom Moody " though you may never have heard of Edmund — 
came up at the instant and pulled the king up from the ground by the 

* " Three wise men of Gotha 
Went to sea in a bowl : 
Had the bowl been stronger 
My story -would have been longer." — Old Xursery Ballad. 

Though the fact is not stated, the inference clearly is. that the 
bowled themselves out of existence by that rash proceeding. 

BB — 2 



372 COMIC HISTOKY OP ENGLAND [BOOK V 

roots — at least by the roots of his hair — with wondrous promptitude, 
Had this accident proved fatal, Henry would have been the first 
instance of a monarch losing his crown by being planted instead of 
supplanted, which had been the fate of some that had preceded him. 

It is now time for us to speak of the commencement of that spirit of 
Bluebeardism which ultimately gave the most glaring colouring to 
Henry's character. He had always been a little flighty and indiscri- 
minate in his attentions to the fair sex, but he had hitherto treated 
Catherine with respect, until he met with Anne Boleyn, or Bullen, the 
daughter of Sir Thomas Boleyn, who was descended from a former 
Lord Mayor of London, but by a series of clever match-making — a talent 
for which was inherited by Miss Anne — the family had succeeded in 
allying itself, by marriage, to some of the proudest aristocracy in the land. 

One of their earliest "dodges " had been to repair the plebeian word 
Bullen, by omitting the U and substituting an O, which got it to Bollen. 
In the course of time, having been allowed an inch in the way of licence, 
they took an L, or at least one liquid absorbed another, and the word 
now stood Bolen. Subsequently a Y, without a why or wherefore, 
was dropped in, and the Bullens, who had probably acquired their 
name, originally, from having been landlords, or perhaps potboys, at 
the "Bull," had now assumed the comparatively elegant title of Boleyn, 
which has since become so famous in history. Sir Thomas Boleyn, 
the father of Nancy, had long lived about the Court, and had been 
employed as a deliverer of messages, or ticket-porter, for Henry the 
Eighth, on some important-occasions. Anne, who was born in the 
year 1507, had in very early life gone out to service as maid — of 
honour — to the king's sister, Mary, who, when going over to be 
married to Louis the Twelfth, took the girl abroad, where she picked 
up a few accomplishments. On Mary's returning home, a widow, 
Anne Boleyn found another situation with Claude, the wife of Francis 
the First, but after remaining in another family or two for a short 
time in France, she returned to England, where we find her, in 1527, 
engaged as maid of honour to Catherine of Aragon. 

Henry having become deeply enamoured of Miss Boleyn, who had 
shown a strong determination to stand no nonsense, was suddenly 
seized with religious scruples as to his marriage with the queen ; for 
he found out, seventeen years after the event, that he had done wrong 
in allying himself with his brother's widow. The fact of her being 
now an oldish lady of forty-three added no doubt considerably to the 
pious horror of the king at the step which he had taken. He accor- 
dingly began to think seriously of a divorce ; and when Wolsey was 
sounded on the subject, the cardinal, for reasons of his own, yielded 
a prompt concurrence. He was anxious to pay off Catherine on 
account of a quarrel he had had with her nephew, the emperor ; 
and thus, in the words of the poet of Dumbarton Castle, 

" He sought to consummate his fiendish part 
By breaking a defenceless female's heart." 

lie was sent as an ambassador to Francis, ostensibly to arrange about 
the marriage of Henry's only daughter Mary, but really, as it is 



CHAP. IV. J RECEPTION OF WOLSEY AT BOULOGNE. 373 

believed, to induce the French king to consent that Wolsey should be 
a sort of acting pope during the investment of the castle of St. 
Angelo, where the Spaniards and Germans had made the real pontiff 
a prisoner. 

Poor Clement bore his ill fortune with patience, though, as long as 
the investment of the castle lasted, he used to say it w T as one of the 
most unprofitable investments in which he had ever been involved, 
and that nothing but the excessive tightness prevented him from 
selling out, for he was quite tired of the security. 



CHAPTEE THE FOURTH. 

HENRY THE EIGHTH (CONTINUED.) 

The reign of Henry the Eighth would become tedious were it not 
for the privilege we have assumed in dividing it into chapters ; though 
we shall not follow the example of the melodramatists who suppose 
fifteen years to have elapsed between each of their acts, and thus 
carry on their plots by means of the imagination of their audience. 
It is true that many of the events of Henry's reign are dark enough 
to cause a wish that we might be allowed to omit them ; but we 
must not give up to squeamishness what we owe to posterity. 

We have not yet come to the catalogue of his various female vic- 
tims, and we have yet to describe those matrimonial freaks upon 
which we would gladly have put a ban by forbidding the banns, had we 
lived three centuries in advance of our present existence. We must, 
however, speak the truth ; and though we might imitate the author of 
the play called The Wife of Seven Husbands, who requested the 
public to consider that a husband had elapsed between each act, we 
will not call upon our readers to imagine that a wife of Henry the 
Eighth has elapsed between each chapter. 

We will now resume our narrative, and in the first place look after 
Wolsey, whom we left under orders to proceed to the French 
dominions ; and as the cardinal must by this time have commenced 
the passage across, we will take him at once out of his unpleasant 
position, and land him at Boulogne. 

Wolsey's reception in France was like that of a royal personage, 
and had all the inconveniences of such a compliment ; for the firing 
of the guns at Boulogne frightened his mule, who had not been trained 
to stand fire, and who indulged in a kick-up of the most extraor- 
dinary character. This interview with Francis resulted in three 
treaties, which were concluded on the 18th of August, 1527,* by the 
first of which it was agreed that the Princess Mary should marry 
young Francis, Duke of Orleans, instead of old Francis, his father, 

* Lord Herbert's " Life of Henry the Eighth," p. 160 of the quarto edition, 1741. 



374 



COMIC niSTORY OF ENGLAND. 



[book V. 



a point that had hitherto been an open question ; the second treaty 
concluded a peace, and the third stipulated that nothing done by the 
pope during his captivity should take effect, but that as long as 
Clement was in durance, which it required all his fortitude to endure, 
Wolsey should have the management of ecclesiastical affairs in 
England. The pope himself good-naturedly sent over a bull to confirm 
the cardinal in his new powers ; and " here certainly," says Lord Her- 
bert, "began the taste our king took of governing, in chief, the clergy." 
His lordship might have added with truth that Wolsey had performed 
the w T onderful physical feat of biting off his own nose to be revenged 



r ''VC i \ 




Cardinal Wolsey at Boulogne. 

upon the rest of his face, for it is certain that the taste Henry had 
been encouraged to take of power over the church soon led him to bo 
discontented with a mere snack, for his appetite grew fearfully by 
what it fed upon. Like the modest dropper-in at dinner-time, who 
sits down to take " just a mouthful," and is led on to the consumption 
of a hearty meal, Henry, who at first simply intended to pick a bit 
from the power of the pope, soon became a cormorant of church 
influence. Henry's thoughts were seriously occupied with the design 
of getting a divorce, and he therefore pretended to be in great alarm 
as to the succession to the throne, in consequence of a " public doubt " 
as to his marriage being lawful and the Princess Mary being legitimate. 
There is no question that tbe wish was in this instance father tc 



CHAI\ IV. J ESCAPE OP THE POPE. 375 

the thought, and that, so far from Henry's desiring to silence all dis 
cussion on the point, he was the first to encourage the criticism oi 
his wife's and his daughter's position. Notwithstanding his notorious 
flirtation with Anne Boleyn, which the forward minx decidedly 
encouraged, he pretended to be looking out for an eligible parti in the 
event of his marriage with Catherine of Aragon being officially nullified. 
He had a picture sent over to him of the Duchess of Alanson, sister 
to Francis, and used to pretend that he should px-obably set his cap 
at that lady ; but the picture was a mere blind, or probably in a very 
short time it experienced a worse fate than that of a blind by being 
turned into a fire-board or consigned to a lumber-room. 

The love-making of Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn was a 
mixture of mawkishness, childishness, hypocrisy, and scholastic 
pedantry, tinctured with an affectation of religion that was not the 
least disgusting feature of this disgraceful courtship. Henry used to 
write love-letters full of extracts from Thomas Aquinas, complaints 
of headache, reference to pious books, and sickly sentimentalism 
about " mine own sweet heart," while the good-for-nothing Nancy B. 
would reply by sending him pretty little toys and pretty little words 
of encouragement. She had made good use of her time in Wolsey's 
absence, for, when the cardinal came back, the king, in answer to his 
own question, " Guess who's the gal of my 'ai't?" which his friend 
gave up, enthusiastically responded, " Anne Boleyn." 

The already corpulent monarch was stupidly and spoonily love-sick 
about this " artful puss," as Catherine might have called her, and he 
used to leave scraps of paper about the palace scribbled over with 
charades, conundrums, and anagrams to the object of his admiration.* 
Wolsey was a good deal annoyed by this avowal, but, finding his 
opposition would do no good, he changed his tack and fell in with the 
sovereign's fancy. Henry ordered him to consult Sir Thomas More, 
who, not at all liking the job, referred him politely to St. Jerome and 
St. Augustine, saying it was more in their way than his own, and 
he felt any interference on his part would be irregular and unpro- 
fessional. Wolsey next tried the bishops, who shook their heads and 
said, " You had better ask the pope," to whom the king at last deter- 
mined upon a reference. 

The pope, whom we left locked up in the castle of St. Angelo, had 
been obliged to " come out of that " for want of provisions, and had 
escaped in the disguise of a gardener, in which a shovel hat may have 
been of some use to him. He played his cards so well as the one of 
spades, that, with the assistance of one or two true hearts who turned 
out trumps, he reached in safety the town of Orvieto, where he expected 
reinforcement from a French army. Long before the promised aid 
arrived, he received a card inscribed "Dr. Knight," and he had scarcely 
time to say, " Doctor Knight ? Who is Doctor Knight ? I don't know 
any Doctor Knight," when the king of England's secretary, who bore 

* One of these has been preserved ; it is to the following effect : — " My first is the 
article indefinite (An) ; my second is a very useful animal (Bull) ; my third is the 
abode of hospitality (Inn) ; and my whole is the ' gal of my art ' — An(n) Bull-Inn 
[Anne Boleyn)." 



37G COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [ROOK V. 

that name, rushed into the presence of the pontiff. The doctor, having 
briefly explained his object in coming, which was to get the pope's 
consent to Henry's divorce, succeeded in extracting the requisite 
authority from his holiness, who was very unwilling, but he could 
not keep back his bull without finding himself on the horns of a 
worse dilemma. He at all events wished the matter to be kept secret 
for a short time ; but a friend of Wolsey stepped forward to stipulate 
that an Italian cardinal should be sent to England with Dr. Knight, 
to prove that the document he took with him was genuine. Poor 
Clement, being afraid to refuse compliance, pointed to half-a-dozen 
cardinals standing in one corner, and hurriedly observed, " There, 
there, Dr. Knight, take any one of those, for the whole six arc quite 
at your service." In conformity with this permission, Cardinal 
Campeggio was selected to visit England, and he carried with him 
in his pocket a decree, rendering final any judgment that he and 
Wolsey might agree upon. 

On the arrival of Campeggio a public entry into London was pro- 
posed : but he excused himself on the score of gout, which had laid 
him by the heels, or rather seized him by the great toe, and prevented 
him from coming into the metropolis on the footing that he might 
have desired. After spending a few days with his leg in a sling, he 
was introduced to the king, whom he greatly irritated by advising 
that the business of the divorce should not be proceeded with. Henry 
began declaring that he had been deceived, and that the pope was an 
old humbug, which caused the gouty leg of the legate to tremble in 
its shoe ; and, taking the bull from his pocket, he showed that the 
pontiff meant business, and had given full authority for transacting it. 
Henry's desire for a divorce got soon rumoured about the city, and 
caused so much dissatisfaction that he called a meeting of the judges, 
lord mayor, common council, and others, at which it was announced 
that his majesty would attend to give explanations, and enter into a 
justification of his conduct. He made an elaborate speech of the 
most artful and hypocritical kind, in which he asserted that his 
religious scruples alone made him agitate the question of a divorce, 
and that if his marriage was valid, nothing would give him greater 
pleasure than to finish his life in the society of the old lady who had 
been for many years the partner of his existence. It is notorious 
that he had made up his mind to desert Catherine for Anne Boleyn ; 
and his speech is therefore a disgusting specimen of low cunning, 
rendered doubly odious by the religious cant with which it was 
accompanied. 

The unhappy queen, when visited by Wolsey and Campeggio, 
exclaimed at once, " I know what you have come about." She said 
she thought it hard to have her marriage doubted after nearly twenty 
years ; and spoke pathetically of those early days when she was in 
the habit of going out a-Maying with her royal husband. " Ah, 
madam ! " replied Wolsey, " if we could have May all the year round, 
it would be pleasant enough ; but the spring of the year, as well as 
the spring-time of existence, is not perpetual." Catherine acknow- 
ledged she was not so young as she had been, and the English 




o 



3 



u 

o 



B 
a) 

a 



CHAP. IV.] 



TftlAL OP CATHERINE. 



379 



cardinal ventured to hint, that, even in those Maying days, she had 
the advantage of Henry — at least, if there can be any advantage to a 
lady who is her husband's senior. Finding pathos of no use, she pro- 
ceeded to argument, and endeavoured to show that Henry had almost 
lost his claim to a divorce by mere laches, in having so long neglected 
to apply for one. The two cardinals only shook their heads, as if 
they would say, " I can't see much in that ; " and she then ventured 
to take another ground for opposing her husband's project. She 
complained that her husband had paid for the licence and dispensa- 
tion from the pope, but that the dispensation might be dispensed 
with as valueless, if one could supersede another at the instigation of 
the great and powerful against 
the comparatively friendless and 
impotent. At length, losing all 
temper and patience, she turned 
to Wolsey, taxing him with having 
"done it all;" when the wily 
cardinal did nothing but bow and 
smile in general terms, placing his 
hand upon his heart, muttering 
out, " Pon honour!" "Nothing 
of the sort ! " and giving other 
similar assurances that he had 
in no way instigated the conduct 
pursued by Henry. 

The preliminary meeting to 
which we have referred was held 
in the Hall of the Black Friars, 
on the 31st of May, 1529 ; and an 
adjournment till the 21st of June 
having taken place, Wolsey and 
Campeggio were at their posts at 
the appointed hour. Henry and 
Catherine were both in atten- 
dance ; and the former, when his name was called, gave a terrific 
shout of "Here!" which had a startling effect upon the whole 
assembly. Catherine, though she might be considered upon 
her trial, was accommodated with a seat on the left of 
the bench, and was attended by four friendly bishops, who 
had come in the amiable capacity of moral bottle-holders to this 
injured woman. When her name was called she refused to 
answer, or to say a word ; but the dignity of the queen soon 
gave way to the volubility of the woman, and her tongue started 
off into a gallop of the most touching eloquence. She commenced in 
the old style of appeal, by throwing herself at the king's feet, 
presuming perhaps, that if he had a tender point it might be upon his 
toes, and she should thus make sure of touching it. She then im- 
plored his compassion, as a woman and a stranger, concluding with 
a happy alliterative effect by declaring herself " a friendless female 
foreigner/' 




Henry answering " Here ! " at the Trial 
of Queen Catherine. 



380 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

At the conclusion of a very powerful speech she rose slowly, and 
when it was expected she would return to her seat, she marched 
deliberately out of the hall, to the great amazement of the quartette 
of bishops by whom she had been accompanied. Henry was a little 
staggered by what had occurred ; but he nevertheless made a reply, 
which was partly inaudible from the flurry of the king himself, and the 
consternation into which the Court had been thrown by the queen's 
very telling speech, and highly dramatic exit. He was understood to 
say, that he had a very high respect for the distinguished lady who 
had just addressed them ; that she was a very good wife ; that he 
had in fact no fault to find ; but that really his scruples as to the 
lawfulness of his marriage had made him very uncomfortable. He 
remarked that his conscience was so exceedingly delicate that it could 
not bear the slightest shock ; and here indeed he seems to have 
spoken the truth, for his conscience appears to have died altogether 
within a very short time of the occurrence we have mentioned. 

Catherine's departure from the Court turned out to be final, for 
nothing could induce her to enter it again ; and, being pronounced 
contumacious, the proceedings were carried on in her absence. The 
two cardinals, out of regard to her majesty's interests, requested Dr. 
Taylor — an aged junior in the back rows — to hold a brief for the 
defendant, and examine the witnesses : a proposition at which the 
learned gentleman jumped, for he had previously been occupying his 
own mind and the official ink in sketching the scene before him on 
the desk, or handing down his name to posteritjr by cutting it out on 
the bench with a pocket penknife. Dr. Taylor, if he had practised 
little before, had quite enough to do on the occasion that brought him 
into notice, for Lord Herbert, in his " Life and Reign of Henry the 
Eighth," gives a list of thirty-seven witnesses for the plaintiff, all of 
whom our venerable junior had the task of cross-examining. Some 
idea may be formed of the magnitude of this achievement, when it is 
stated that several of the witnesses were ladies, and that the evidence 
of the first of them — namely, Mary, Countess of Essex — is summed 
up in the report as having amounted to " little," though conveyed in 
" general terms." 

There is something truly overwhelming in the idea which this 
slight summary conveys ; for it is impossible that the imagination can 
set any limits to the "little" a lady can contrive to say when she 
avails herself of " general terms " to give it utterance. Cardinal 
Campeggio evinced a decided reluctance to bring the matter to a 
decision, though Henry s case was undoubtedly well supported by 
evidence ; and old Taylor being, professionally speaking, a young 
hand, was able to do little for his absent client. The king at length 
grew angry at Campeggio's delay, and instructed counsel to move for 
judgment, which was accordingly done on the 23rd of July in a some- 
what peremptory manner. The Italian cardinal refused the motion, 
and intimated that he would not be bullied by any man, " be he 
king or any other potentate." He then went on to say, that "he 
was an old man, sick, decayed, and daily looking for death : " which 
eertainly gave no reason for delay ; and a whisper to that effect went 






CHAP. IV. 



J 



THE COURT BREAKS DP. 



381 



no doubt round the bar, and was caught up by Henry's counsel, who 
" humbly submitted" that " if the Court expected to be soon defunct, 
there must be the stronger reason for fixing an early day for its decision." 
Cardinal Campeggio got up somewhat angrily, and intimated that 
the cause must be made a ■'■ rcmanct; " that in fact it must stand 
over until next term, as he was not disposed to continue his sittings. 
" Is your lordship aware," asked Sampson,* K.C., " that you will throw 




Cardinal Campeggio and Mr. Sampson.— "I can bear nothing now, Mr. Sampson." 

us over the long vacation ? for we are now only in July, and the next 
term begins in October." The cardinal, who was half-way towards the 
robing-room, turned sharply round to observe that "the Court was 
virtually up," and that " he really wished gentlemen of the bar would 
observe more regularity in their proceedings." Sampson, K.C., had 
nevertheless got as far as " Will your lordship allow us ? " in another 
attempt to be heard, when Campeggio, growling out furiously, " I can 
hear nothing now, Mr. Sampson," retired angrily to his private apart- 
ment. The Court never met again, and Campeggio left England a few 
days afterwards, having first taken leave of the king, who kept his 
temper and behaved very decently. He even gave a few presents to 
the refractory cardinal, but, as the latter lay at Dover previous to 
embarkation, his bedroom door was burst open, his trunks were rum- 
maged, and probably all his presents were taken away again. 

* The King's leading counsel was Richard Sampson, witn wnom was John Bell. — 
Lord Herbert's i: Life of Henry the Eighth," p. 205. 



382 COMIC IIISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [liOOK V. 

Wolsey, who had been associated in the hearing of the great cause, 
Henry versus Catherine, or the Queen at the suit of the King, fell into 
instant disgrace for the part he had taken, or, rather, for the part he 
had omitted to take, upon this momentous occasion. Miss Anne 
Boleyn, who had calculated on his keeping Campeggio up to the 
mark in pronouncing for the divorce, was especially angry with 
Wolsey for his apathy. Even the courtiers got up a joke upon the 
supineness of the English cardinal by calling him the supine ih(h)«ra, 
while Campeggio was compared to the gerund in do, by reason of his 
active duplicity, through which he was declared to have regularly 
done the English sovereign. Many of the nobility attempted to 
excite the avarice of Henry by hinting to him that Wolsey's overthrow 
would be a good speculation, if only for the sake of obtaining the 
wealth he had managed to accumulate ; and from this moment the 
cardinal stood in the precarious position of a turkey that is only 
crammed to await the favourable opportunity for sacrifice. 

Soon after the trial of his cause, in which he thought proper to 
assume that he was entitled to a verdict, Henry set off on a tour, 
accompanied by Miss Anne Boleyn, who, in spite of Hume's panegyric 
on her " virtue and modesty," appears to have been what is com- 
monly called a very pretty character. Wolsey was not invited to be 
of the party, but he rode after the Court, for he was one of those 
hangers-on that are not to be shaken off very easily. He came up 
with the king at Grafton, in Northamptonshire, and was very kindly 
received, but the next morning he was told distinctly that he 
was not wanted in the royal suite, and that he might go back to 
London, after which he never saw his master's face again.* Henry, 
being anxious to ruin his late favourite scion les regies, took the very 
decisive method of going to law with him. Two bills were tiled 
against the cardinal in the King's Bench, but W^olsey, nevertheless, 
proceeded to the Court of Chancery to take his seat, just as if nothing 
had happened. None of the servants of the Court paid him any 
respect, and it is probable that even the mace-bearer, the ushers, and 
other officers omitted the customary ceremonies of preceding him 
with the mace, and crying out, " Pray, silence ! " upon his entrance. 
On his expressing his readiness to take motions, he was responded to 
by one general motion towards the door, in which the whole bar 
joined. "Being thus left quite alone, he amused himself by giving 
judgment in some old suit which had lasted so long that the parties 
were all dead, and he consoled himself by saying that this accounted 
for the fact of nobody appearing on either side. 

The king, hearing of the cardinal's proceedings, gave orders that he 
should be forbidden the Court altogether, and when be went to take his 
seat, as usual, he found the doors closed against him. When he got 
home to York Place, where he resided, he was told that two gentlemen 
were waiting to see him, and, on going upstairs, the Dukes of Suffolk 
and Norfolk requested to have a few words with him. They told him 
that the king intended to come and live at York Place, so that Wolsey 

• Cavendish, 



CHAP. 



IV.j 



WOLSEY RETIRES TO ESIIER. 



383 



must "turn out," to which he made no objection; but when they 
insolently and tauntingly demanded the Great Seal, he declared he 
would not trust it in their possession without a written authority. 
" How do I know what you are going to do with it ? " cried the cardinal, 
holding it firmly in his grasp, and returning it to the sealskin case 
in which he was in the habit of keeping it. The two dukes, having 
exhausted their vocabulary of abuse, retired for that day, but came 
back the next morning with an order, signed by the king, for the 
delivery of the Great Seal, which "Wolsey gave up to them, together 
with an inventory of the furniture and fixtures of the magnificent 
abode he was about to vacate in favour of his sovereign. The cata- 




Wolsey surrendering the Great Seal. 

logue exhibited a long list of luxurious appointments, and commencing 
with " a splendid set of curtains of cloth of gold,"* went on with — a 
ditto — a ditto — and a ditto, down to the end of the three first pages. 
The neatness and variety of his table-covers cannot be conceived, and 
his magnificent sideboard of gold and silver plate was in those days 
unparalleled. He had got also a thousand pieces of fine Holland ; 
but as the chief use of Holland is, we believe, to make blinds, W6 
must regard the purchase of this material in so large a quantity, as 
one of those blind bargains which are sometimes the result of 
excessive opulence. Having made over all those articles to the king, 
Wolsey left his sumptuous palace, and jumping into a barge, desired 
the bargeman to drop him down with the tide towards Putney. The 



Uerbert's " Life of Henry the Eighth," and Hume's " History of England/' 



381 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

river was crowded with boats to see him shove off, and he wag 
assailed with the most savage yells from the populace. As the barge- 
man gave Wolsey his hand and pulled him on board, the poor cardinal 
stumbled over a block of Wallsend, when an inhuman shout of 
" That's right, haul him over the coals," arose from one unfeeling 
brute, and was echoed by countless multitudes. 

On reaching Putney, Wolsey gave the word to "pull her in shore," 
when he disembarked, with his fool and one or two others who had 
agreed to share his exile. They had not gone very far when they 
heard a cry of "Ho! ho! hilly hilly ho!" and looking back, they 
perceived Sir John Norris coming full pelt after them. The cardinal 
was mounted on a mule — hired probably at Putney, or picked off the 
common — and though he endeavoured to put the animal along by giving 
her first her own head, and then the head of a thick stick, the rise of 
a hill brought Wolsey to a dead stand-still. Here he was easily over- 
taken by Sir John Norris, who came, as it turned out, with a present 
of a ring from the king's own finger, and a " comfortable message" 
The abject cardinal went into the most humiliating ecstasies, and 
actually grovelled in the very mud, to show his humble sense of the 
kindness and condescension of his sovereign. Thinking that Sir John 
Norris possibly expected something for his trouble in bringing the 
grateful tidings, Wolsey shook his head mournfully, saying, " I have 
nothing left except the clothes on my back— but here, take this "- — and 
he tore from his neck an old piece of jewellery. "As for my sovereign ," 
he cried, " I have nothing worthy of his acceptance ; " when suddenly 
his eyes lighted upon his faithful fool, who had been such a thorough 
fool as to follow a fallen master. " Ha ! " exclaimed Wolsey, •' I will 
send to his majesty my jester, who is worth a thousand pounds to 
anybody who has never heard his jokes before ; but as I am familiar 
with the entire collection, I have no further use for him." The faith- 
ful fool was exceedingly reluctant to go, and it took six stout yeomen * 
to drag him away — a fact which, as he was full of wit, proves the 
humour of the period to have been dreadfully ponderous. Some of the 
jests of our own time arc heavy enough, but we doubt whether it would 
require half-a-dozen porters to carry a professed wag of the present 
day — including the burden of his entire stock-in-trade — into the 
presence of royalty. It is not impossible that the obstinate resistance 
of the fool to a transfer from the service of a disgraced subject to that 
of a powerful king, may have been intended as a sample of his stylo 
of joking; but we can only say that if this was a specimen of his 
wit, the value set upon him by his old master was rather exorbitant. 

Wolsey now lodged at Esher, where his spirits soon fell — if we may 
be allowed an engineering phrase — to a very dumpy level. Continual 
Bighing had fearfully reduced his size, and he fretted so much that a 
sort of fret-work of tears seemed to be always hanging to his eye-lashes. 
His face became wrinkled and pale, as if constant crying had not only 
intersected his countenance with little channels, but had likewise 
washed out all its colour. It is not unlikely that he sometimes 

• Lord Herbert. 293. 



CHAP. IV.] DESPONDENCY OF WOLSEY. 385 

gretted having parted with his fool, whose dry humour might have 
mitigated the moisture or subdued the soaking which naturally resulted 
from the emptying of so many cups of sorrow over the dismal droop- 
ing and dripping cardinal. Nothing seemed to rouse him from his 
despondency, and the people about him could never succeed in stirring 
him up to a tit of even temporary gaiety. After dinner they would 
sometimes ask him to partake of a bowl of sack ; but at the mere 
mention of the word sack he would burst into tears, and sob out, that 
the sack he had already received had been the cause of all his 
wretchedness. Upon this he would leave the dinner table, and 
wander forth to enjoy his solitary whine in the wood, among the 
thickly planted solitudes in the neighbourhood of Esher. Sometimes 
he would sit pining for hours under a favourite pine, or would go and 
indulge in a weeping match with one of the most lachrymose he could 
find of weeping willows. All this crying brought on a crisis at last, 
and Wolsey had so damped all his vital energies by the incessant 
showers of tears he let fall, that he fell into a slow fever. 

The king now seemed to take some compassion upon his former 
friend, and sent down a medical man to see the prostrate cardinal ; 
though we are inclined to attribute this anxiety for his health to a 
desire to keep him alive until the process was complete for depriving 
him of all his property. At all events a Parliament was suddenly 
summoned, and a bill of impeachment promptly prepared against the 
fallen and feeble Wolsey. 

There were no less than four-and-forty articles in this document, 
which contained, among a variety of other ridiculous accusations, a 
charge of having, when ill with fever, " come whispering daily in the 
king's ear, and blowing upon his most noble grace with breath infective 
and perilous." This would, indeed, have been convicting him out of his 
own mouth ; but though the Lords passed the bill, it was thrown out in 
the Commons, through a spech of Thomas Cromwell, who had been 
secretary to the unfortunate cardinal. 

Wolsey had always felt that when he did fall, he should fall not 
only as Shakespeare said, "like Lucifer," but like an entire box of 
lucifcrs, "never to rise again." Directly the cardinal learned that 
the bill had been defeated, his appetite returned, his cheeks resumed 
their colour, the furrows began to fill out, for grief had been at sad 
work with its plough all over his countenance. He had still a good 
deal of property left, but the king began tearing it away by handfuls 
at a time, until Wolsey had nothing left but the bishoprics of York 
and Winchester. Even these were a good deal impoverished by 
Henry, who made a series of snatches at the revenues, and divided 
the amount among Viscount Eochford, the father of Anne Boleyn— 
who used to say, " I am sure papa would like that," whenever there 
was a good thing to be had — the Duke of Norfolk, and a few other 
lay cormorants. Wolsey was at length completely beggared, by 
treatment that was of such an impoverishing nature as really to 
beggar description. He had nothing left him but a free pardon, a 
little plate — including two table-spoons, which his enemies said were 
move than his desert, — a small van of furniture, comprising, among 

CC 



386 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. TbOOK V. 

other articles, an arm-chair, in which he was tauntingly told he 
might set himself down comfortably for life, and a little cash for 
current expenses. He was' allowed also to move nearer town, and 
giving up his lodgings at Esher he took an apartment at Eichmond, 
where he was not permitted to remain very long, for Anne and her 
party — including several knights of the Star and Garter — persuaded 
Henry to order the cardinal off to his own archbishopric. 

The fallen prelate thought this forced journey so very hard that he 
tried to soften it by easy stages, and he travelled at the slowest 
possible pace, in the hope of being sent for back again. At every inn 
he entered for refreshment on the road he always left a request in the 
bar, that if anyone should ask for a gentleman of the name of Wolsey, 
the enquirer should be shown straight up, without the delay of an 
instant. Not a knock came to the door of his bedroom but he ex- 
pected it was a messenger from the king; and when he found, in 
many cases, it was " only the boots," his disappointment would vent 
itself in terms of great bitterness. Adopting the customary mode of 
showing grief in those superstitious days, he took to wearing shirts 
made of horse-hair next his shin, but donkey's-hair would certainly 
have been more appropriate. He had, however, become so accus- 
tomed to hard rubs, that a little extra scarification was scarcely 
perceptible. On his arrival at York, he endeavoured to make 
himself neighbourly with the people about him, and became a sort of 
gentleman farmer, expressing the utmost interest in rural affairs. He 
made himself an universal favourite, and was the lion of every evening 
party within twelve miles of his residence. He was, however, 
scarcely a figure for these reunions, in his horse-hair shirt ; but he 
probably concealed the penitential part of his costume by wearing a 
camel's-hair waistcoat immediately over it. 

The clergy were always getting up little fetes, of which he was the 
hero ; and he was invited to the the ceremony of installation in his 
cathedral, which he promised to go through, on condition of the 
tiling being done as quietly as possible. It was understood that 
there should be " no fuss," but several of the nobility and gentry 
sent contributions of cold meat and wine, forming themselves in fact 
into a provisional committee, so that the affair partook rather of the 
character of a picnic than of a pageant. Three days before it was to 
take place Wolsey was sitting at dinner, when there came a knock at 
the door, and it was announced that the Earl of Northumberland — 
his friend and pupil — was waiting in the courtyard. " Let him come 
up and do as we are doing," exclaimed the cardinal. " Dear me, I 
wish he had been a little earlier ; but he is just in pudding-time, at 
any rate." As Northumberland entei'ed the room Wolsey seized him 
by the hand, entreating him to sit down and enjoy a social snack— 
or, in other words, go snacks in the humble dinner. Northumberland 
seemed affected, when Wolsey, continuing his meal, observed, "Well, 
you will not make yourself at home, and I can't make you out, so I 
may as well finish my dinner." At length Northumberland, with a 
tottering foot, a trembling hand, a quivering lip, a faltering tongue, and 
a tearful eje, approached his friend Wolsey, and threw himself with 



CHAI\ IV.] DEATH OF CARDINAL WOLSEY. 387 

a heavy heart — adding at least a pound to his weight — upon the old 
man's bosom. Wolsey had scarcely time to exclaim, "Hold upi" 
when the earl, mournfully tapping the cardinal on the shoulder, mur- 
mured, in a voice completely macadamised with sobs, " My Lord — 
(oh, oh, oh!) — I arrest you" (here his voice became guttural from a 
perfect gutter of tears) " for high treason." Poor "Wolsey remained 
rooted to the spot, but it was soon necessary to transplant him, and 
he was speedily removed in custody. His old weakness again came 
over him, for he began to leak again at both eyes, as if he carried the 
veritable New Eiver Head under the hat of a cardinal. He of course 
made himself ill, and indeed he was frequently warned that if he con- 
tinued much longer in this liquid state, he would liquidate the debt 
of nature altogether. The warning was verified very speedily, for on 
reaching Leicester Abbey, when the monks came to the door with a 
candle to light him to bed, he observed to the abbot, " Father, I am 
come to lay my bones among you." He died on the 29th of Novem- 
ber, 1530, in the sixtieth year of his age, and was buried in Leicester 
Abbey. 

News of his death was at once dispatched to Henry, who was 
having a little archery practice at Hampton Court on the arrival of the 
messenger. The king continued his sport for some time, until the 
straw man, upon whom he was trying his skill, had become thoroughly 
trussed with arrows, when his majesty turned round with an abrupt 
" Now then, what is it ? " to the bearer of the sad intelligence. At the 
tale of Wolsey's death Henry pretended to be much affected, but he 
soon recovered his spirits sufficiently to inquire whether a sum of 
£1500 had not been left by the cardinal. The king expressed a desire to 
administer to his lamented friend's effects, but when the discovery was 
made, that instead of having £1500 to leave, Wolsey had just 
borrowed and spent that amount, his royal master thought it as well 
to have nothing to do with the business. Poor Wolsey had been the 
unfortunate goose who might have continued laying golden eggs for 
a considerable time had not Henry cut him prematurely up for the 
sake of immediate profit. 

We cannot part with Wolsey until we have dropped a few inky 
tears to his memory. We have already seen that his talents were 
considerable, but according to one of his biographers * he had a most 
elastic mind, or in other words he could " pull out " amazingly when 
occasion required. 

Some time before Wolsey's death a new ministry had been ap- 
pointed, in which the family and friends of Anne Boleyn got very 
snug berths ; but though in those days " any fool " could have a seat 
in the cabinet, it was necessary to have a chancellor of good abilities. 
The woolsack was literally in the market for a few days, until Henry 
thrust it on to the shoulders of Sir Thomas More, who would have 
declined the profitable burden, and who was somewhat averse to the 
sack of wool, because he felt that much of the material was obtained 
by fleecing the suitors. He, however, was persuaded to accept the 

• Gait, p. 199, Bogue's European Library. 

CC — 2 



388 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

dignity, or rather to undertake the burden, and he was even heard to 
say — by a gentleman who wishes to remain incog. — that he wished 
there were porters' knots for moral responsibilities as well as for 
actual weights, since it was exceedingly difficult to preserve one's 
uprightness beneath a load of dignity. 

Among the persons recently introduced to Court was Thomas 
Cranmer, who happened to have met Dr. Gardiner, the king's secre- 
tary, and Dr. Fox at a private dinner table. As the party sat over 
their wine, the divorce of Henry was brought upon the tapis, and 
Cranmer made the sagacious observation, that the proper way would 
be to have it looked into. Gardiner and Fox exchanged glances, as 
much as to say " Shrewd fellow, that; " and they both agreed that 
he was a wonderful man for his age — which it will be remembered 
was the sixteenth century. They endeavoured to bring him out, and 
upon a free circulation of the bottle, Cranmer gave it as his opinion 
that there was " only one course to pursue," that " the thing lay in a 
nutshell," that " it was as clear as A, B, C ; " a series of sentiments 
which, though more knowing than conclusive, made a deep impression 
on Fox and Gardiner. " There's a great deal in that fellow," said 
Fox after Cranmer had gone home, and indeed there was a good deal 
in him, no doubt, for scarcely anything had been got out of him. The 
two doctors hastened to the king to inform him of the enoi*mous catch 
they had got in Cranmer, whose winks, innuendos, and occasional 
ejaculations of " I see it all ; " " Plain as a pike-staff," etc., etc., had 
made such a deep impression upon the two doctors. Henry was as 
much taken with their description of Cranmer as they had been with 
the original, and the king exclaimed in a perfect rhapsody, "That 
man has got the right sow by the ear ; " * an expression which we are 
sufficiently pig-headed not to appreciate. It was arranged that 
Cranmer should be asked to dine at the palace ; and after a good deal of 
desultory conversation, in which " Exactly," " I see it," " No question 
about it," were Cranmer's running fire of ad captandum remarks, 
Henry got so puzzled that he requested the gentleman to put his 
opinions in writing at his earliest convenience. 

The individual who had thus received instructions to act as pam- 
phleteer in ordinary to the king, was sprung from an ancient family 
in Nottinghamshire, but he was destined for higher things than 
dragging out the thread of his existence in Notts, as we shall soon see 
when we proceed to unravel his history. His early education had 
been somewhat neglected, for his father was a sportsman, who took 
more delight in going out to shoot than in teaching the young idea 
how to follow his example. Young Cranmer's master was a severe 
priest, who ruled his pupils with a rod of iron, and thrashed them 
with a rod of a different material. He snapped many a whip over 
the young whipper-snappers, as he was in the habit of calling his 
youthful charges, who, at all events, became hardened by the salutary 
treatment they experienced. 

Cranmer applied himself with diligence to his studies, and in turn 

* Todd's " Life of Cranmer ,'* Tytller's li Life of Henry the Eighth," etc., etc. 






CHAP. IV.] CROMWELL ARRIVES IN LONDON. 389 

took pupils of his own at Cambridge, where he happened to meet one 
day at dinner with Fox and Gardiner, who, as we have already seen, 
introduced him to the sovereign. The pamphleteer elect to Henry 
the Eighth was lodged in the house of the Earl of Wiltshire, the 
father of Anne Boleyn, who used to lock the author up in a garret, 
with a pen and ink and something to drink, upon which he received 
instructions to "fire away" in support of the views of his master. 
Cranmer soon rattled off a treatise in which he smashed the pope, 
demolished every objection to Henry's divorce, and proved to the 
satisfaction of the king that he could do as he liked as to contracting 
a second marriage. " Would you say as much to the pope himself ? " 
asked Henry of his literary man. " Ay, that I would, as soon as 
look at him," was the reply ; upon which Cranmer was taken at his 
word, and sent off to Eome with old Boleyn, now the Earl of Wiltshire. 
As they entered the papal presence, Clement held out his toe to 
receive the usual homage, but the old earl positively declined to per- 
form the humiliating ceremony, and after the pontiff had stood upon 
one leg for a considerable time, he found that he and his visitor must 
meet upon an equal footing. Cranmer, though not allowed a public 
disputation with the pope, took every opportunity of earwigging the 
people about him, and got many of them to admit that the king's 
marriage was illegal, though they would not acknowledge that his 
holiness had no power to give it validity. Though Cranmer's pamphlet 
had proved everything, it had done nothing, and Henry beginning to 
speak of his exertions as "all talk," another tool was required to carry 
out the royal project. This tool came originally from a blacksmith's 
shop in Putney, in the shape of one Thomas Cromwell, of whom it 
has since been said that he was a sharp file, who would cut right 
through a difficulty, while Cranmer was active enough in hammering 
away at a point, but his hitting the right nail upon the head was 
generally very dubious. 

The father of Cromwell did smiths' work in general, but nothing at 
all in particular, for he had amassed a decent fortune. His son was 
sent as a clerk to a factory at Antwerp, where he kept the books ; but 
he soon abandoned accounts, in the hope of cutting a figure. He 
entered the army, and was present when Bome was made a bed of 
ruins, by getting a complete sacking. He next entered the counting- 
house of a merchant of Venice, who dealt in Venetian blinds and 
. Venetian carpeting, but young Cromwell soon threw up the one and 
indignantly laid down the other. On arriving in London, he com- 
menced the study of the law, and took chambers in Inner Temple 
Lane, which was, even at that early period, the grand mart of legal 
ability. Wolsey, who had lodgings over the gate hard by,* was 
in the habit of meeting Cromwell, who eventually became what is 
professionally termed "the devil" of that ingenious advocate. 

On the fall of his senior, Cromwell contrived to keep just far enough 

* These lodgings still exist as Honey and Skelton's, the hair-dressers, who have 
preserved a series of interesting historical documents, among which may he seen 
Wolsey'a first brief, and other curious relics. 



390 COATIC niSTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

off to prevent himself from being crushed by the weight of the unfor- 
tunate cardinal, and offering his services to the king, was immediately 
retained in the great cause of Henry the Eighth versus Catherine of 
Aragon, ex imrte Anne Boleyn. By the advice of Cromwell the 
authority of the pope was set at defiance, and in 1532 a law was 
passed prohibiting the payment to him of first-fruits ; " which do not 
mean," says Strype, "the earliest gooseberries, to enable his holiness 
to play at gooseberry fool, but the first profits of a benefice." 

Henry at last determined to cut the Gordian knot, by forming 
another tie, and in January, 1533, he solved the question of the 
divorce by marrying Anne Boleyn. The ceremony was performed in 
a garret at Whitehall, in the presence of Norris and Heneage, who 
were a couple of grooms, and of Mrs. Savage, the train-bearer of the 
bride, whose wedding came off much in the style of those clandestine 
affairs, in which the clerk gives the lady away, and the old pew- 
opener acts in the capacity of bridesmaid. Cranmer, who had lately 
arrived in town for the season, found a vacancy in the see of Canter- 
bury, which he consented to fill up, without scrupling to take the 
usual oaths to the pope, though openly avowing himself a Pro- 
testant. Clement himself not only ratified the election of the man 
he knew was committing perjury, but even consented to make a 
reduction in the fees that were usual on similar occasions. 

Thus did these two precious humbugs humbug each other and their 
contemporaries ; but the historian will not allow them any longer to 
humbug posterity. Cromwell swore obedience against his conscience, 
and intending to break his oath, but intent on obtaining the dignity 
which he could purchase by perjury, and Clement took a reduced fee, 
on the principle of half a loaf being better than no bread, from a man 
who, on the slightest opposition being offered to him, might have 
snapped his fingers at the papal chair as he did in his heart — if one 
can snap one's fingers in one's heart — at the papal authority. Thus 
did the great champions of Protestantism on one side, and Catholicism 
on the other, agree in a disgraceful arrangement, by which one sold 
his sacred authority for a pecuniary bribe, and the other bartered his 
conscience for a temporary dignity. 

It has been said by Cromwell's apologists, that he took his false 
oaths with a mental reservation ; but if this excuse were allowed to 
prevail, the conscience would possess a salve as efficacious as that of 
the quack which was warranted to cure every disease from apoplexy 
to chilblains, and prevent the necessity of patients with delicate lungs 
from exporting themselves abroad to avoid the danger of being left for 
home consumption. 

The contemplation of so much hypocrisy, in such high quarters 
having put us so thoroughly out of patience that we are unable ta 
proceed, we break off here with the remark, that tergiversation and 
treachery have ever been common among even the highest in rank, 
and so we fear they will continue to be until — ha ! ha ! — the end o? 

IHE CHAPTER. 



<MAI». V.] 



CORONATION OF ANNE BOLEYN. 



39J 



CHAPTER THE FIFTH. 

HENRY THE EIGHTH (CONCLUDED). 



THOUGH Henry the Eighth had already 
married Anne Boleyn, the little affair 
of the divorce from Catherine had not 
been quite settled, and, as it was just 
possible that his two wives might clash, 
he resolved to hurry on his legal sepa- 
ration from her, whom we may call, 
by way of distinction, the " old orig- 

. inal." Cranmer, who was a very spaniel 

V /e^L' lx^"^r^silill lY m ms snea king subservience to his 

royal master, was instantly set on to 
worry, as a cur worries a cat, the un- 
happy Catherine. A Court was imme- 
diately constituted, under the presi- 
dentship of Cranmer, to decide on the 
legality of her marriage, and the lady 
was cited to appear ; but she did not 
hh ' a «g jffi^o attend, and, though summoned by her 

7 ^§ss ^ a Sis 5 " judges fifteen times, the more they kept 

on calling the more she kept on not 
coming. Difficult as it is in general to 
anticipate what a judicial decision will be, the judgment in the case 
of the King ex parte Anne Boleyn versus Catherine of Aragon might 
be foreseen very easily. The marriage was, of course, pronounced 
illegal, and Cranmer wrote to Henry on the 12th of May, 1533, to say 
that he had just had the pleasure of pronouncing the " old lady " vere 
et manifest e contumax. The Court declared she had never been married 
to Henry, but was the widow of the Prince of Wales, to whose title 
she must in future restrict herself. When the news was brought to 
her, she exclaimed indignantly, "Not married to the king? Marry 
come up, indeed ! " and the wretchedness of the pun speaks volumes 
for the misery to which she had been reduced by her enemies. 

Henry, wishing to make the work complete, and aware that finis 
coronat opus, determined that a coronation should be the finishing 
touch of his recent matrimonial manoeuvring. The ceremony was 
performed with great pomp on the 1st of June, 1533, when, though 
the regular crown was used, the weak head of Anne was too feeble to 
bear it, and it was replaced by a smaller diadem, which had been 
purposely prepared as a substitute. When Clement heard of what 
had been passing in England, he sent forth a bull, expecting that Henry 
would be immediately cowed by it. The pontiff ordered the monarch 
to take back his original wife, but the latter refused to listen to any 




m 



COMIC HISTORY OF EtiGLANt). 



[HOOK 



motion for returns, observing that those who are at Eome may do as 
Rome does, but that he should entirely repudiate the papal jurisdic- 
tion. A Parliament which was held soon after seconded the sovereign's 
views, and, by way of paying off the pope, he was deprived of all fees, 
rights, and privileges which he had hitherto enjoyed as head of the 
Church of England. The ecclesiastical party in England had been 
subservient to the whim of Henry, and had assisted in nullifying its 
own supremacy over the State by cutting off its own head; so that 
the experiment of amputating one's own nose to be revenged upon 
one's face was somewhat more than realised. 

On the 7th of September, 1533, Anne Boleyn became the mother of 




Birth of the Princess Elizabeth. 

r little girl, who was named Elizabeth, and the courtiers of the day 
already offered to lay heavy bets on the future greatness of Betsy. The 
king, who had buoyed himself up with the hopes of a boy, was a little 
angry at the unfavourable issue, and he vented his ill-humour in 
further insults towards the unfortunate Catherine. Everyone who 
continued, either by design or accident, to call her queen was thrown 
into prison, and even a slip of the tongue, occasioned by absence of 
mind, was followed by absence of body, for the luckless offender was 
dragged off to gaol, from the bosom of his family. 

Henry having lopped off Catherine as a branch of the royal tree, 
and grafted Anno ISoleyn on the trunk, began to think about the 



CttAf V.'] *HE MAID OF KEN*. 393 

successional crops, in the treatment of which he was assisted by a 
servile Parliament. Little Mary, Catherine's daughter, was rooted 
out like a worthless marigold, and Elizabeth was declared to be tbe 
rising flower of the royal family. Among tbe atrocities committed by 
Parliament on account of its miserable subserviency to tbe will of the 
king, was the bill of attainder of high treason, passed against a female 
fanatic called the Maid of Kent, and some of her accomplices. This 
person, whose name was Elizabeth Barton, and who resided at Ald- 
ington in Kent, was subject to hysterical fits, as well as to talking 
like a fool, which in those days — as in these — was often mistaken 
for a symptom of superior sagacity. Extremes are said to meet, and 
the mental imbecility of Miss E. Barton was thought by many to 
border on an amount of wisdom which only inspiration could impart, 
and the semi-natural got credit for the possession of supernatural 
attributes. Some of her idiotic and incoherent talk having been 
heard by her ignorant companions, was declared by them to be in- 
spired, because it was something they did not understand; and as 
knavery is always ready to turn to profit the idea that folly sets on 
foot, persons were soon found willing to take the Maid of Kent under 
their patronage for political purposes. 

Eichard Maister or Masters, the vicar of the place, whom Hume 
calls " a designing fellow " behind his back, whatever the historian 
might have said to the reverend gentleman's face, was the first to take 
an interest in Elizabeth Barton, and introduced her to public notice 
as a sort of mesmeric prodigy ; in which capacity she brought out a 
bundle of Sybiline leaves, with the intention, probably, of making a 
regular business of telling fortunes. Anxious for the recommenda- 
tion of being able to announce herself as "Prophetess in Ordinary to 
the King," Miss Barton began predicting all sorts of things with 
reference to Henry ; but unfortunately she had not the tact to make 
his majesty the subject of happy auguries. She hoped, perhaps, that 
if she went to work boldly, he would buy her off; for it has sometimes 
proved a good speculation to establish a nuisance in a respectable 
neighbourhood, which will often pay the annoyance to remove itself 
to some other locality. Miss Barton did not, however, manage so 
well, for instead of getting literally bought up, she was destined to be 
put down very speedily. Making a bold bid for royal patronage, she 
prophesied that if Henry put away Catherine he would die a violent 
death within seven months ; and Elizabeth Barton thus made sure 
that if the king declined treating with her for the stoppage of her 
mouth, the ex-queen would at least make her some compliment in re- 
turn for her complimentary prophecy. Henry, who had no objection 
to her dealing out death either wholesale, retail, or even for exporta- 
tion, to some of his popish enemies abroad, could not allow such a 
liberty to be taken with his own name ; and accordingly the fortune- 
teller, who professed to hold consultation with the stars, was brought 
up before the Star Chamber. She soon found in the president a 
Great Bear more terrible than the Ursa Major to whom she had been 
accustomed ; and perceiving by the rough manner of the assembled 
6tars of the Star Chamber that theirs was anything but a Milky Way, 



394 COMIC HISTOHY OP ENGLAND. [liOOK V. 

she was glad to own herself an impostor, for she saw that it would 
have been useless to plead not guilty before judges who, according 
to her own conviction, were resolved on convicting her. She was 
committed to prison on her own confession ; and as the seven months 
within which Henry would have become due, according to her pro- 
diction of his death, had expired, it was to be hoped that he, at least, 
would have been satisfied without subjecting Miss Barton to further 
punishment. He however seemed to have become positively irritated 
at the falsehood of her prophecy ; and because he had not died in the 
proper course, he subjected the maid and six accomplices to a bill of 
attainder of treason, in pursuance of which they were all executed on 
the 21st of April, 1534, at Tyburn. 

We will not dwell on the disgusting subject of Henry's cruelties 
towards such excellent men as Fisher, bishop of Eochester, and Sir 
Thomas More, both of whom fell victims to the ferocity of their royal 
master. Their conscientious refusal to recognise Henry as the head 
of the Church had excited his rage, which increased to the height of 
savageness when the pope offered to send to poor Fisher the hat of a 
cardinal. The king at first attempted to put a prohibition on the im- 
portation of all hats ; but anticipating that the chapcau intended for 
Fisher might be smuggled into England, Henry contented himself 
with the barbarous joke, that the hat would be useless without a head 
to wear it on. The monarch soon carried out his threat, and then 
turned his fury upon the unfortunate Sir Thomas More, who had 
retired into private life in the hope of escaping Henry's tyranny. 
This, however, was impossible ; for though conscience must often 
have whispered " Can't you leave the man alone?" some evil genius 
kept ever and anon murmuring the words, " At him again," into the 
ears of the despot. 

Among the petty persecutions to which More was exposed, was the 
taking away of all writing implements from the good old man, who, 
deprived of pens and ink, took a coal as a substitute. He at length 
learned to write with a piece of Wallsend as rapidly as he could use 
a pen, and, with a coalscuttle for an inkstand, he never wanted the 
material to keep alive the fire of his genius. Considering how famous 
he was for the use of "words that burn," we do not see how he could 
have found a better instrument than a piece of coal for transcribing 
his sentiments. A pretext was soon found for taking the life of this 
excellent man, whose facetious bearing at his own execution shall 
not mislead us into unseemly levity in alluding to it. He made jokes 
upon the scaffold ; but we must admit that they are of so sad and 
melancholy a description, as to be scarcely considered inappropriate 
to his very serious position. So much has been said of the wit of 
More, that we may perhaps be excused for hazarding a word or two 
concerning it. Judging by some of the bon mots that have been pre- 
served, they seem to us hardly worth the expense of their keep; for 
as horses are said to have eaten off their own heads, so the witticisms 
of Moi-e appear in many instances to have consumed all their own point, 
or, at all events, the rust of ages has a good deal dimmed their brilliancy. 
His wife had but little respect for his waggery, and would sometimes 



CHIP. V.] 



DEATH OP CATHERINE OF ARAGON. 



395 



ask him " how he could play the fool in a close, filthy prison? " and 
she evidently thought it was carrying a joke a little too far, when she 
found her husband would not "drop it" even in the Tower. His 
allusion to his being obliged to write with coals instead of pens, which 
caused him to say that " he was but a wreck of his former self, and 
had better be scuttled at once," seems to us equally deficient in point 
and dignity. He was executed on the 6th of July, 1535, after a 
quantity of badinage with the headsman, which makes us regret, for 
the sake of More, that any reporters were allowed to be present. 




Henry is determined not to be bullied. 

Henry had now come to open war with the Church of Borne, and, 
under the advice of Cromwell, he determined to make a profit as well 
as a pleasure of the recent rupture. While the pope let loose his bulls 
upon the king, the latter turned out his bull-dogs, in the shape of emis- 
saries, empowered to pillage the rich monasteries in England. Crom- 
well acted as whipper-in to this cruel sport, and hounded on the scrvilo 
dogs at his command, in pursuit of those monastic herds, which had 
foeen luxuriating in the rich pastures the church had hitherto afforded. 



306 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V 

It is true that many impositions on the public were discovered by 
the emissaries of Henry ; but one fault does not justify another, and 
the frauds of the monks afforded no excuse for the robbery committed 
by the monarch. We may feel indignant at the showman who exhibits 
on his delusive canvas "more, much more/' than his caravan can hold, 
but we have no right to appropriate to ourselves the whole of his stock 
because he has been guilty of trickery. Henry did not pocket the whole 
of the proceeds thus unscrupulously obtained, but gave a few slices 
to the church, by creating half-a-dozen new bishoprics and establishing 
a professorship or two in the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. 
The greedy cry of " Give us a bit," which was raised by his clerical 
tools, could not be altogether disregarded, and he threw them a few 
crumbs of the good things he had seized, more with the hope of stopping 
the mouths than satisfying the appetites of the hungry claimants. 

Poor Cathei'ine of Aragon died at Kimbolton on the 8th of January, 
1536, after writing a letter to the king, which it is said extracted one 
tear from the sovereign's heart — a circumstance which must have 
raised hopes at the time, that the process of extracting blood from a 
stone might not be found impossible. 

The year 1536 was marked by a voyage of discovery under the 
patronage of the king, for the purpose of sending some emigrants on a 
wild-goose chase to the north-west coast of America. Thirty of the 
adventurers were gentlemen from the Temple and Chancery Lane, who, 
thinking anything better than nothing, had probably dashed their wigs 
to the ground, and thrown themselves on the mercy of that motion ot 
course wmich the sea was certain to supply them with. It is said, 
though w r e know not with how much truth, that the learned wanderers 
being short of provisions, made each other their prey — a result to be 
expected when clients were not accessible. It is added that none of 
the party returned but a learned gentleman of the name of Ruts, who 
was so changed that his father and mother did not know him until 
he pointed to a wart which had not been washed away by the water. 

Henry continued his hostility to the pope, absurdly declaring that 
he would not be bullied, and in defiance of the papal see caused Anne 
Boleyn, who is said to have exulted over the death of Catherine, to 
drain the cup of sorrow, or rather to lap it up : for she one day found 
Jane Seymour, a maid of honour, sitting on the knee of Henry. It 
w r as in vain that the monarch and his new favourite endeavoured to 
laugh the matter off as a mere lapsus, for Anne declared that the 
king must have begun to nurse a new passion. 

As they who are convicted of a fault themselves are anxious to pick 
holes in the conduct of others, Henry having been proved to see more 
in Seymour than became him as a married man, commenced harbour- 
ing suspicions against Anne Boleyn. On May-day, 1536, there had 
been a royal party at Greenwich — in fact, a regular fair — when sud- 
denly, in the midst of the sports, Henry started up exceedingly indig- 
nant at something he had witnessed. The queen did the same, and 
her husband pretended that he had seen her either winking at one 
Norris, a groom, or clown to the ring, in which the jousts were going 
forward, or making signals to Mark Smeaton, a musician in the 



CHAP. V.] 



ANNE B0LEYN IN THE TOWER. 



397 



orchestra. Several persons were seized at once, and sent to the 
Tower, including poor Smeaton, the member of the band who was 
accused of acting in concert with men of higher note, to whom ho was 
charged with playing second fiddle. 

Poor Anne was taken to the Tower, where a number of scandalous 
old women were sent about her to talk her into admissions against 
herself, and to talk her out of anything that they could manage to 
extract from her simplicity. She wrote what may justly be called "a 
very pretty letter" to the king, dated the 6th of May, 1536; but if 
any answer was received it must have come from Echo, who is the 
general respondent to all communications which receive no attention 
from the parties to whom they are directed. On the 12th of the same 
month Norris, Weston, Brereton, and Smeaton were tried andexecuted, 
all denying their guilt but the musician, who changed his key note a 
little before he died, and modulated off from a fortissimo declaration 
of innocence to a most pianissimo confession. There is every reason 
to believe that this composition of Smeaton was a piece of thorough 
base, which is only to be accounted for on the score of treachery. 




Henry making love to Jane Seymour. 

On the 15th of May, a building as trumpery as the charge against 

I her having been knocked together in the Tower, Anne Boleyn was 

brought up for trial before a court of twenty-six barons, one of whom 

iwas her own father, while her uncle the Duke of Norfolk sat m 



393 COMIC HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V 

president. It would be imagined that a jury comprising two relatives 
would have given a positive advantage to Anne ; but her uncle being 
a rogue, and her father a fool, the former was too venal, and the 
latter too timid, to be of any use to her. Sbe pleaded her own cause 
with such earnestness, that everyone who heard how she had acquit- 
ted herself, thought that her judges must have acquitted her. They, 
however, found her guilty, to the intense bewilderment of the Lord 
Mayor, who had heard her defence, and could only go about exclaim- 
ing, "Well, I never! did you ever?" for the remainder of his existence. 

It would seem that there was something in the mere prospect of 
the axe, which imparted its sharpness to the intellects of those upon 
whose heads the instrument was on the point of falling. We have 
already alluded to the mots of More when he was positively moribund, 
and the quips of the queen became very numerous and sparkling as 
the prospect of the scaffold opened out to her. She made a sad joke 
upon the little span of her own neck — in reference, no doubt, to the 
small span of human existence— and paid a compliment to foreign 
talent by requesting that she might have the benefit of the services 
of that sharp blade that had just come from Calais — alluding to the 
recent arrival of the French executioner. 

Henry was on a hunting party in Epping Forest, and was break- 
fasting on Epping sausages, when the execution Sook place, the 
announcement of which he had ordered should be made to him by 
the firing of a gun as a distant signal. During the dejeuner Henry 
kept continually exclaiming : 'hush," and entreating " silence," with 
all the energy of an usher in a court of law, until a loud bang 
boomed over the breakfast-table. Henry instantly started up, ex- 
claiming, " Ha, ha ! 'tis done ! " and ordering the dogs to be let slip 
while his breakfast-cup was still at his lip, he resumed his sport with 
even more than his wonted gaiety. On the very next day, he was 
married to Jane Seymour, there having been a very short lapse of 
time since she was discovered on the lap of Henry. 

A Parliament having been speedily assembled, that servile body 
passed every act that Henry desired, and began by cancelling, in one 
batch, the entire issue of his former marriages. .The princesses Mary 
and Elizabeth were declared illegitimate, while the condemnation of 
Anne Boleyn was legalised by statute ; a measure which was a little 
tardy, considering that she had already lost her head in pursuance, or 
rather in anticipation of the confirmation of her sentence. 

The destruction of monasteries was now carried on with a most 
brutal rapacity, and a mixture of barbarism and barbarity that 
disgusted a great portion of the community. Not satisfied with 
robbing the inmates of the monasteries, Henry's myrmidons destroyed 
the buildings themselves with the most wanton violence, and it was 
remarked that they were never contented with emptying a cellar of 
all its wine, hut must always remain to take shots at the bottles. 
This unprovoked and tasteless taste for mere mischief roused the 
discontent of the people in many places, and the Lincolnshire fens 
assumed the offensive with one Mackrel, an odd fish, as the leader of 
the insurgents. This Mackrel soon got himself into a sad pickle, for 




a 



a 
o 

a 



w 

<u 

a 



CHAP. V.] BIRTH OF EDWARD, FRINCE OF WALES. 



401 



he was executed at a very early period of the insurrectionary move- 
ment. 

On the 12th of October, 1537, her majesty Queen Seymour gave 
birth to a son, an event which made Henry as happy as a king, or 
at least as happy as such a king, with such a conscience as Henry 
carried about with him, could possibly make himself. He dandled 
the royal infant in his arms with all a parent's pride, and sang 
snatches of nursery ballads in the ear of the baby. The child was 
called Edward, which Henry fondly translated into Teddy Peddy ; 
and three little coronets — the size of first caps — were instantly made 




Delight of Henry at having a Son and Heir. 



for the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cornwall, and the Earl of 
Chester, for such was the tria juncta in uno formed by the birth of 
the illustrious little stranger. The queen died in twelve days after 
giving birth to an heir ; but this circumstance did not seem to affect 
the spirits of Henry, who perhaps felt that there was one more wife 
out of the way, without the trouble and expense of getting rid of 
her. 

The arbitrary monarch now experienced a good deal of trouble 
from one Pole, whom the tyrant made several attempts to bring to 
the scaffold. This Pole was remarkable for standing erect, and for 
his firmness, after once taking his ground, in keeping his position 

DD 



402 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

He was the son of Sir Kichard Pole and Margaret Countess of 
Salisbury, for the first Pole was a kind of leaping Pole, with a strong 
tendency to raise not only himself, but all those that belonged to him. 
Keginald, for such was the name of the Pole that had stirred up the 
rage of Henry, had received from the pope a cardinal's hat, with the 
assurance that such a Pole ought not to be bare, but deserved the 
most honourable covering. Being himself resident abroad, he was as 
much out of the English tyrant's power as if he had been the old 
original North Pole, of whom we have all heard ; but his brothers 
and relatives at home were seized upon, and either executed or burnt 
like so much firewood. Parliament aided the despotism of the king, 
by passing a suicidal act, declaring that a royal proclamation should 
have the force of law ; a resolution equivalent to an act of self- 
destruction ; for if the king could do everything by himself, there was, 
of course, no occasion for Lords and Commons to help him in the 
task of government. 

Henry having become disembarrassed of no less than three wives, 
began to think so little of the encumbrance of matrimony, that he 
contemplated a fourth engagement. It was indeed natural enough 
that he should be fearless of that which might make bolder men 
afraid, for he had given evidence of a facility in making an escape, 
and he consequently risked little by braving danger. He advertised, 
as it were, for a wife, in all the markets of European royalty, and 
he continued popping a series of questions ; but his — to revive a moi 
(we cannot call it a bon mot) of the period — was of all pops the most 
unpopular. " Nobody will have me, by Jingo," he would sometimes 
mutter to himself ; and at length the wily Cromwell proposed to act 
as matrimonial agent to his majesty. 

The Duchess Dowager of Milan was treated with for her hand, but 
she wrote back to say that if she had a couple of heads, she might 
listen to Henry's proposal, for he would certainly cut off one, and it 
would be awkward not having another head to fall back upon. He 
next sent an offer to the Duchess of Guise, saying that wedlock, coming 
to him in such a Guise, would be the height of happiness ; but 
this lady politely excused herself, on the ground of a "previous 
engagement." Somewhat hurt by these repeated rebuffs, he requested 
Francis the king of France to " trot out " his two sisters for Henry to 
take his choice; but Frank said frankly that he would have nothing 
to do with the humiliating business. We have it on the authority of 
a letter among Cromwell's correspondence, that Henry was rather taken 
with Madame de Montreuil, a French lady, who having come from 
France to Scotland in the suite of Magdalen, first queen of James the 
Fifth of Scotland, was now on her way back again. Henry appears 
to have gone to Dover for the purpose of meeting her on the pier or the 
parade ; but he must have found her passd as he surveyed her through 
his glass, for nothing came of their meeting. The lady lingered in 
England to give him every chance, but Henry could only shake his 
head, observing "No ! by Jove it won't do ; " and Madame de Mon- 
ad, pitying his want of taste, was compelled to return to her own 
country. 



CHAP. V.] ANNE OF CLEVES. 403 

At length Cromwell came running one morning to Henry, exclaiming, 
" I think I've found something to suit your majesty at last," and 
'placed in the king's hand the card of " Anne, second daughter of John 
Duke of Cleves, one of the princes of the Germanic Confederacy." 
Henry was not possibly averse to the match, but was wavering, when 
Cromwell produced a lovely portrait as that of the candidate for the 
hand of the English sovereign. The king examined the picture with 
the eye of a connoisseur, and being pleased with the sample, ordered 
the lot to be sent over to him with as little delay as possible. The 
picture was by Holbein, who had utterly concealed the plain fact, 
and bestowed upon the German princess such handsome treatment, 
that he had imparted the lustre of the brilliant to an object which 
was as inferior to the copy, as German paste is worthless by the side 
of the diamond. Henry hastened, on her arrival in England, to 
compare the original with the picture ; and having disguised himself, 
sent forward Sir Anthony Brown to say that a gentleman was coming 
on to see her, with a new year's present. Poor Brown was fearfully 
taken aback at seeing a lady so thoroughly laide as Anne of Cleves, 
but gave no opinion to his royal master. Henry went tripping into 
the apartment with all the ardour of a youthful lover ; but the first 
glance was enough, and he shrunk back, muttering to himself, that 
the princess instead of looking like the picture of Holbein, reminded 
him rather of the picture of misery. He nevertheless summoned up 
all his resolution to give her a kiss ; but it was clear to all who wit- 
nessed the scene, that Henry repented a bargain in which he found 
himself mixed up with such a decidedly ugly customer. After a few 
minutes passed in small-talk — the smallness of which limited it to 
twenty words — Henry went away in deep dudgeon, but he made up 
his mind to the marriage, lest he might be involved with any of the 
German powers in an action for a breach of promise. 

The evening before the nuptials were solemnised, Henry sat with 
Cromwell, bewailing — probably over some nocturnal grog — the 
" alarming sacrifice," that had become unavoidable. The statesman, 
who had recommended the match, tried hard to soften down some of 
the most repulsive features of Anne ; but Henry coarsely described 
her as " a great Flanders mare," and Holbein as a "humbug "for 
having so grossly flattered such a coarse clumsy animal. " By my 
troth," he exclaimed — for his indignation rose as the liquor in his glass 
became lower — "you got me into this scrape and you must get me 
out of it. I shall expect you to find some means of abating for me 
this frightful nuisance." 

Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, the head of the popish party in 
the church, was, of course, an opponent of Cromwell, and took advan- 
tage of the recent matrimonial mistake, to damage him still further 
in the opinion of his royal master. Gardiner flattered himself that 
the train had been already laid, and that the awfully bad match 
which Cromwell himself had provided, would certainly hasten the 
explosion that there was good reason to anticipate. The wily Bishop 
of Winchester introduced Catherine Howard, the lovely niece of hia 
friend the Duke of Norfolk, to the king, who was instantly struck by 

PD — 2 



404 COMIC HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

her beauty, and said warmly, " Ha ! the man who has discovered 
this charming Kate knows how to cater for his sovereign."* 

Cromwell's doom was now sealed, and the Duke of Norfolk, on the 
10th of June, 1540, had the luxury of taking into custody his political 
antagonist. A charge of having one day pulled out a dagger, and 
declared he would stick to the cause of the Reformation, even 
against the king, was speedily got up, and, by the 28th of July, he 
was disposed of, at Tower Hill, in the customary manner. While in 
prison, he wrote a pitiful letter to Henry, with the word "Mercy, 
Mercy, Mercy!" reiterated thrice as a P.S. ; the meanness and 
tautology of which evinced a poverty in the spirit as well as in the 
letter. 

The king had now determined to marry Catherine Howard, but 
the old difficulty — another wife living — stood in the way of the 
desired arrangement. Having consulted his attorney, it was pro- 
posed to search for some previous marriage contract in which Anne 
of Cleves had been concerned ; and as everybody is engaged, on an 
average, at least half-a-dozen times before being married once, there 
would have appeared little difficulty in accomplishing Henry's wishes. 

The excessive ugliness of Anne of Cleves, however, placed great 
obstacles in the way, for she had clearly been a drug in the matri- 
monial market, and neither by hook nor by crook could an old offer 
for her be fished up until something of the kind from the young 
Prince of Lorraine — entered into before he was old enough to know 
better — was happily hit upon. A commission was at once issued, 
the matter tried, and of course decided in Henry's favour. By way 
of strengthening the king's case, it was urged by his learned counsel 
that he had married against his will, and therefore ought to be 
released from his contract. The Court, however, held that the 
establishment of such a principle would be almost equivalent to the 
passing of a general divorce act for half the couples in Christendom, and 
on that point at least the rule for a new trial of Henry's luck was 
refused accordingly. His suit for a nullification of his contract with 
Anne of Cleves succeeded on the other point, and both parties were 
equally gratified by the result which set them both at liberty. The lady 
felt she had much rather lose her husband's hand than her own head, 
and Henry began to think he might be wearing out the axe upon his 
wives before he had half done with it, and if he could find any other 
means for severing the marriage tie he much preferred doing so. He 
offered to make her his sister, with three thousand a year, an 
arrangement with which she expressed herself perfectly satisfied. 
Both parties were permitted to enter into wedlock again, if they 
pleased, and the king of course availed himself of the option with his 
accustomed celerity. The Bill was brought into Parliament on the 
12th of July, and the 8th of August found Catherine Howard already 
publicly acknowledged as the fifth Mrs. Henry Tudor. 

It had now become the boast of Henry that he held the balance with 
an even hand between the Catholics and the Reformers ; but his impar- 

Srrype — who certainly deserves a hundred stripes for recording such an atrocity. 



CHAP. V.] EXECUTION OP THE COUNTESS OP SALISBURY. 405 

tiality was shown in a manner most inconvenient to both of them. 
He used to deal out what he called equal justice to both, by sub- 
mitting a few on each side of the question to equal cruelty. He would 
forward three Catholics at a time to Smithfield, to be hanged as 
traitors, and by the same hurdle he would sand three Lutherans to 
be burned as heretics. 

As we are unwilling to turn our history into a Newgate Calendar, 
for the sake of recording the atrocities of a sanguinary king, we shall, 
in our account of the remainder of this odious reign, preserve the 
heads, and avoid the executions. The murder of the Countess of 
Salisbury, an old woman upwards of seventy, and the mother of 
Cardinal Pole, stands out perhaps from some other sanguinary deeds 
by its peculiar atrocity. The venerable lady, at the last moment, 
defied the executioner to come on, and a combat of the fiercest 
character took place upon the scaffold. 

Henry, who had frequently tried to inoculate his nephew, James the 
Fifth of Scotland, with his own predatory propensities, became at 
length angry that the latter declined turning thief in the name of 
religion, and plundering the church under the pretext of simply re- 
forming it. A conference had been agreed upon between the English 
and the Scotch kings ; but the latter, at the instigation of Cardinal 
Beaton, whose olfactory nerves had detected a rat, broke his appoint- 
ment with his imperious uncle. This ungentlemanly proceeding gave 
such offence to the English tyrant, that he threatened, with an 
awful oath, to let the weight of old Henry be felt in Scotland ; and 
the expression that So-and-So purposes " playing old Harry," no 
doubt took its rise from the incident to which we have alluded. 

The Duke of Norfolk was sent, as a low fellow of that period hath 
it, " to take the shine out of that Jem," who was completely defeated 
at Solway Moss, through his own troops turning their backs — not 
upon him, as it is said by some, but upon the enemy. James was so 
overwhelmed with shame and despair, that he drew his helmet over 
his eyes, assumed a stoop — a sure sign that he was stupefied — and 
never raised his head again, but fell a victim to that very vulgar 
malady, a low fever. He left his kingdom to his daughter, then only 
eight days old, who came to the throne on the ninth ; but as she was 
not a nine days' wonder, she evinced no miraculous aptitude for the 
task of government. 

Henry had in the meantime been made very uncomfortable by the 
rumours that his wife, familiarly known as Miss Kate Howard, had 
not been acting properly. When the king heard the news, he was 
deeply affected, for he was one of those persons who make up, in 
feeling for themselves, for their deficiency of feeling with regard to 
others. He sat down and had a good crocodilian cry, which irrigated 
his hands to such an extent that he was compelled to wring them to 
get them dry again. Cranmer and Norfolk were appointed to examine 
into the truth of the charges against the queen, who, when her guilt 
was proved beyond doubt, made a virtue of necessity — the only 
virtue of which she could boast — by boldly confessing it. 

This unfortunate young woman had been promised a pardon oo 



406 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

condition of her revealing the extent of her transgression ; but when she 
had admitted not only a great deal she had done, but had thrown into 
the bargain a great deal she had never done at all, Henry, regardless of 
his pledge, thought that the best way to get rid of an annoyance was 
to break the neck of it. Catherine Howard was accordingly beheaded 
at the Tower, on the 15th of February, 1542, and finding her con- 
fession had done her no good, she retracted the greater part of it. 
" It was not to be supposed," says Muilins, " that a person who had 
shown himself so double as Henry, could long remain single," and he 
accordingly threw himself once more upon the matrimonial market. 
There he was of course no longer at a premium, and he was pretty soon 
at Parr ; and it is a strange fact that he would have commanded a 
better price had it been certain that he could be had without the coupon, 
which had distinguished the settling days of two of the wives of this 
shocking bad sovereign. Catherine Parr was a corpulent old lady, forti- 
fied by at least forty summers, but she readily listened to the proposals 
of Henry. Henry entered her at once on his share or chcrc list, and 
in allusion to her bulk, placed opposite to her name the words " com- 
mands a very heavy figure." She was the widow of Neville, Lord 
Latimer; but, thought Henry, " What care I, if she has even killed her 
man? — it will not be the first time that I shall have killed my woman." 

The English king courted her at once, and made much of her ; but 
to have made more of her than there really was, would have been rather 
difficult. He married her on the 10th of July, 1543, and it is a curious 
fact shat she outlived him, which we can only attribute to the lady 
partaking the longevity of her namesake old Parr, for there must 
have been a vigorous adhesion to life in any one who could marry and 
survive the wife-exterminating tyrant. For some time she humoured 
Henry, but having a touch of Lutherism, she began meddling with 
matters of Church and State, which embroiled her with a bishop or 
two, who ran and told the king what she had been impudent enough 
to talk about. " Marry come up ! " roared Henry, in allusion to his 
having elevated Catherine Parr by marrying her; "so you are a 
doctor, are you, Kate?" But having had a hint that her mixing in 
politics was not agreeable, she only replied, meekly, " No, no, your 
Kate is no caitiff." This speech had the effect of diverting Henry's 
wrath, almost as much as it will divert posterity by its delightful 
quaintness. Gardiner, who had justified his name — allowing of 
course for the difference of spelling — by sowing the seeds of dissension 
between the king and queen, had arranged with the sovereign that 
her majesty was to be seized next morning by forty guards, headed by 
Chancellor Wriothesley. This person was not a little astonished at 
finding himself called "an arrant knave, a foole, and a beastlie foole," * 
by the king, when he came to execute his mission. He was, in fact, 
dismissed with an entire earful of fleas, of which Henry had always 
an abundance on hand for unwelcome visitors. 

Henry had now become, litei'ally, the greatest monarch that ever 
sat upon the throne, for he had increased awfully in size, and become 

• Lord Herbert. 



CHAP. V.] 



HENRY S CRUELTY 



407 



irritable at the same time, so that the task of getting round him was, 
in every sense, extremely difficult. Had there been a prize monarch 
show, open to the whole world, he must have carried off the palm, for 
he was too fat to lie down, lest no power should be able to get him up 
again. It was true he had been born to greatness, but he also had 
greatness thrust upon him — some say by over-feeding — to such an 
extent that he was obliged to be wheeled about, on account of his very 
unwieldiness. It might have been supposed that Henry would have 
begun to soften under all these circumstances ; but he exhibited no 




Henry wooing Catherine Parr. 

tendency to melt, for he continued his cruelties in burning those whom 
he chose to denounce as heretics. It is disgraceful to the ecclesiastical 
character of the age, that the church party that happened to be in 
power sanctioned the cruelties practised towards the party that hap- 
pened to be out, and it was said, at the time, that the fires at Smith- 
field were always being stirred by some high clerical dignitary, who 
might be considered the " holy poker " of the period. 

The prospect of a speedy vacancy on the throne created a rush of 
candidates, who commenced literally cutting each others' throats — a 
desperate game, in which the Howards and Hertfords made themselves 



408 COMIC HISTORY Of ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

very conspicious. Young Howard, Earl of Surrey, used to sneer at 
Hertford, who had been recently ennobled, as a "new man," and 
Hertford would retort unfeelingly upon Howard's father, the Duke of 
Norfolk, by saying " it was better to be a new man than an old 
sinner." The Norfolk family got the worst of it, for Norfolk and 
Suffolk were taken to the Tower on the 12th of December, 154G, on 
the frivolous charge of having quartered with their own arms the arms 
of Edward the Confessor. Had they gone so far as to use these arms 
upon a seal, it ought not to have sealed their doom, nor stamped 
them as traitors ; but the frivolousness of the charge marks the 
tyrannical character of the period. Commissioners were sent to their 
country seat at Kuming Hall, to ransack the drawers, pillage the 
plate chest, and send the proceeds to the king ; but the people 
intrusted with the job either found or pretended to find scarcely any- 
thing. They wrote to the king, telling him that the jewels were all 
either sold or in pawn ; but as the tickets never came to hand, it is 
possible that the searchers were practising a sort of duplicate rascality. 
They forwarded to the king a box of beads and buttons ; but though 
every bead was glass, Henry does not appear to have seen through 
it. Surrey was tried at Guildhall for having quartered the royal 
arms with his own, and on his defence he observed, "By my troth, 
mine enemies will not allow me any quarter whatever." He was 
found guilty, of course, and beheaded on the 19th of January, 1547, 
and his father's execution had been set down on the'peremptcry paper 
for the 28th of the same month, when the proceedings were suddenly 
stayed just before execution, by the death of Henry. 

The tyrant, who had been getting physically as well as morally 
worse and worse, clung to life with that desperate tenacity that 
is a sure sign of there being good reason for dreading death in those 
among whom, after a certain age, such a cowardly fear is manifest. 
He would often impiously threaten that "he would outlive all the 
younger people about him yet ; " and though his time was evidently 
not far off, he would not bear to be told of his true condition. Instead 
of repenting of his past life, he devoted the wretched remnant of his 
existence to doing all the mischief he could, and venting his malice to 
the fullest extent that his now failing strength would admit of. Nobody 
dared muster resolution to tell the unhappy old brute that he must 
very speedily die, until Sir Anthony Denny, a knight who shared our 
friend Drummond's* aversion to humbug of any description, boldly 
told old Harry that he was on the point of visiting his redoubtable 
namesake. 

Finding all chance of escape cut off, he began confessing his sins ; 
but it was rather too late, for, had his repentance been sincere, the 
catalogue of his crimes was far too voluminous to allow of his getting 
through one half of it before his dissolution. He had been in the 
habit of adjourning that court of conscience existing in his as well as 
in every man's breast, and he always postponed it sine die ; but when 
the time to die actually came, or the die was really cast, it was rather 

• " Druniiuond is so averse to humbug of any description." — Vide Tijou. 



CHAT. V.] DEATH OP HENRY THE EIGHTH. 409 

late to move for a new trial. Henry died on the 29th of January, 
1547, in the fifty-sixth year of ( his age, the thirty-eighth of his reign, 
and at least the forty-first of his selfishness, baseness and brutality. 

He had been married six times, having divorced two of his wives, 
beheaded two more, and left one a widow. This leaves one more — 
Jane Seymour — still unaccounted for ; and indeed her death was the 
most wonderful of all, because it was natural. He left behind him 
three children : but he did not care a pin's head, or even — to name an 
article of smaller importance to him — a wife's head, for any one of 
them. Such a very bad man was sure to be a very bad father, and 
he had declared two of his children illegitimate, for it was the delight 
of this monster to depreciate his own offspring in the eyes of the world 
as much as possible. His religious reforms, however wholesome in 
their results, were brutal in their execution and base in their origin. 
His insincerity may be gathered from the fact that he appointed 
masses to be said for his own soul, though he had burnt many persons 
for popery ; and he seemed to think that, by taking up two creeds at 
once on his death-bed, he could make up for the utter irreligion of his 
past existence. He is said to have contributed to the cause of en- 
lightenment, and so perhaps he did with all his blackness, as the coal 
contributes to the gas ; and never was a bit of Wallsend half so 
hard, or a tenth part so black, as the heart of this despicable sovereign. 
He never had a friend; but he was surrounded by sycophants, whom, 
one after the other, he atrociously sacrificed. 

Cranmer being a man of superior mind, exercised an influence over 
him, and was sent for to his death-bed, when he pressed the prelate's 
hand ; but whether the pressure arose from cramp or conscience, 
rheumatism or remorse, penitence or " pins and needles," must be 
considered a question to which we will not hazard an answer. We 
regret that we have been unable to adhere to the excellent motto, de 
mortuis nil nisi bonum, in this case ; but Henry was such a decided 
malum in se, that mischief was bred in the bone, and the nil nisi bonum 
becomes impossible. 

Learning certainly advanced in this reign, and Henry himself affected 
authorship ; but every literary man, from the highest flyer in the realms 
of fancy to the humblest historian of last night's fire or yesterday's 
police, will be honestly ashamed of his royal fellow-craftsman. 

Several colleges and schools were founded in this reign, among the 
principal of which were Christ Church at Oxford, Trinity at Cambridge, 
and St. Paul's in London. Here it was that the lowly Lily, of Lily's 
grammar notoriety, first raised his humble head as the head master 
of the school ; and, though there is something lack-a-daisy-cal in 
Lily's style, his grammar was at one time the first 'round of the 
ladder by which every lad climed the heights of classical instruction. 
It may be interesting to the gastronomic reader to be informed that 
salads and turnips now first came into use, with other roots, towards 
which the people had shown until then a rooted antipathy. They 
swallowed spinach without any gammon, and even the carrot, that 
had formerly stuck in their throat as if they feared it would injure the 
carotid artery, was consumed with alacrity ; and those who had 



410 COMIC HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [BOOK V. 

disdained the most delicious of green food, by courageously exclaim- 
ing, " Come, let us try it," are supposed by some — though we disclaim 
the monstrous idea — to have given its name to the lettuce. The 
cultivation of hops came as if with a hop, skip, and jump across 
from Flanders, and the trade in wool was brought, under the foster- 
ing patronage of Wolsey, to a state of some prosperity. 

With the exception of the burning of monasteries and the murder 
of his wives, there was little to render the reign of Henry remarkable, 
beyond, perhaps, the invention of beef-eaters. The word beef-eater 
is known to be a corruption of buffcticr, and indeed there was cor 
ruption, to a certain extent, in everything connected with this 
detestable tyrant. It is said they were called buffctiers from attending 
at the buffets, or sideboard of plate, but it is far more likely that they 
got the name from the buffeting to which every servant of the royal 
ruffian must have been occasionally liable. The neck was so often in 
danger, that any menial of the malignant monarch might be expected 
to ruff it in the best way he could, and hence the enormous ruffs, which 
are conspicuous to this day, round the chins of the beef-eaters. The 
looseness of their habits may be considered characteristic of the Court 
to which these functionaries were attached, though it has been said by 
some authorities that the beef-eaters were puffed and padded out to 
an enormous extent, in order that the monster Henry might not appear 
conspicuous. 

The reign of Henry was also remarkable for the invention of pins, 
to which somebody had given his own head with intense earnestness. 
The sharpness of the English had not yet reached so fine a point as to 
have led to the discovery of the needle, which was doubtless suggested 
by the pin, to some one who had an eye for improvement. ' The 
thimble is a still later introduction, the merit of which is considerable ; 
for though at the present day every sempstress has the thimble at 
her finger ends, there was a time when no one had thought of this 
very simple but necessary appendage to the ladies' work-table. If 
the reign of Henry had never been devoted to anything more ob- 
jectionable than the discovery of pins and needles we should have had 
little reason to complain, for a few pricks of conscience, no matter 
whence they emanated, would have done him good ; but the scissors 
for cutting the thread of existence formed the instruments chiefly in 
use during this cruel and most disastrous reign. 




Shilling of Henry tho Eighth. 



C»iAP. Vl.l 



ACCESSION OP EDWAftD THE SIXTH. 



ill 



CHAPTER THE SIXTH. 



EDWARD THE SIXTH. 




N enormous weight was 
taken off the whole country 
when the late lump of 
obesity was removed from 
the throne; but shameful 
to relate, the first use the 
nation made of the power 
of breathing freely was to 
give a few puffs to the 
departed tyrant. The chan- 
cellor Wriothesley 
announced the king's death 
to the House of Lords in 
tears, and there is said to 
have been much weeping ; 
but there are tears of joy as 
well as of sorrow, and the 
< former must have been the 
quality of the brine in which 
the memory of Henry was 
preserved for a few days by 
his people. The lamentations, whether sincere or hypocritical, were 
very soon exchanged for joy at the accession of Edward the Sixth, 
who was only in his tenth year when he woke one morning and found 
the crown of England over his ordinary nightcap. To rub his eyes 
and ask " What's this ? " were the work of an instant, when, taking 
off the bauble, drawing aside his curtains, and holding the article up 
to the light, he at once recognised the royal diadem. 

Young Edward was what we should call a little forward chit had 
he been a common lad, but being a king we must at once accept him 
as an infant