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LIVES 


or  TBI 


QUEENS  OF  ENGLAND. 


A  NEW  EDITION. 


THREE  VOLUlfES  IN  ONE. 


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VOLUMES  FIRST,  SECOND,  AND  THIRD. 


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LIVES 


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QUEENS  OF  ENGLAND, 


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THE  NORMAN  CONQUEST; 


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ANECDOTES  OF  THEIR  COURTS, 


NOW  FIRST  PUBLISHED  FROM 


OPFlClAli  RECORDS  AND  OTHER  AUTHENTIC  DOCaMENTS, 

PRIVATE  AS  WELL  AS  PUBLIC. 


KE*V    EDITION,   WITH   CORRECTIONS   AND   ADDITIONS. 


BY 


AGNES   STRICKLAND. 


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VOL.  I. 


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Ihi:    LIVES    OF    THE    QUEENS   OF    ENGLAND 


ASE  BY   GRAClOUl  PERMlSSIO.f    INSCRIBED, 


W.IU    FErlTNOS   OF   TROFOVSV    RESPECT  AND    IX>YAL  AFFEL-TUa, 


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CONTENTS 


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FIRST  VOLUME. 


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Peepacb Pagb  vii 

PSBFACB   TO   THB   SbCOND   EdITION Zl 

Pbepacb  to  THB  Thied  Edition xii 

Introduction xiii 

Matilda  op  Flanders,  Qaeen  of  William  the  Conqaeror  ....  17 

Chapter  II 40 

Chapter  Ul 67 

Matilda  op  Scotland,  Queen  of  Henry  1 79 

Chapter  U 97 

Adelicia  op  Loutainb,  Second  Queen  of  Henry  1 119 

Matilda  op  Boulogne,  Queen  of  Stephen 142 

Elbanora  of  Aquitaine,  Queen  of  Henry  IL 166 

Chapter  U 188 


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PREFACE 


TO 


THE  FIRST  EDITION. 


All  annoancement  of  this  work,  the  first  volume  of  which  is  now 
submitted  to  the  public,  appeared  in  the  Literary  Gazette  of  August 
26,  1837,  and  other  leading  periodicals  of  the  day,  under  its  original 
title  of  "*  Historical  Memoirs  of  the  Q,ueens  of  England.'*  I  had  jnre- 
nousiy  had  the  honour  of  communicating  to  her  majesty,  queen 
Victoria,  that  for  some  years  I  had  been  engaged  in  preparing  for 
publication,  the  personal  history  of  those  royal  ladies,  from  many  of 
whom  her  own  illustrious  descent  is  derived ;  and  I  was  fovoured  with 
a  most  gracious  permission  fi'om  her  majesty,  to  dedicate  the  work  to 
herself 

A  long  and  dangerous  illness  delayed  the  publication  of  the  first 
series.  Meantime,  the  title  I  had  chosen  was  appropriated  by  another 
writer,  and,  under  that  very  title,  memoirs  have  been  published  of 
iome  of  the  queens  whose  biographies,  in  regular  and  unbroken 
succession,  are  comprised  in  the  present  series  of  the  *'  Lives  of  the 
Q,ueens  of  England.'* 

Biography,  however,  especially  when  historically  treated,  is  a  widely 
extended  field,  to  which  all  labourers  are  freely  welcomed,  in  this 
intelligent  age  of  inquiry.  Such  opposite  views,  indeed,  are  taken  of 
the  same  events  and  characters,  by  persons  of  difierently  constituted 
minds,  that  the  cause  of  truth  is  sure  to  be  benefited,  when  the  re- 
search of  several  writers  is  directed  to  tlie  same  subjects. 

**  Facts,  not  opinions,"  should  be  the  motto  of  every  candid  histo- 
rian ;  and  it  is  a  sacred  duty  to  assert  nothing  lightly,  or  without  good 
evklence,  of  those  who  can  no  longer  answer  for  themselves.  I  have 
borne  in  mind  the  charge  which  pre&ces  the  juryman's  oath,~it  runfi 
as  folk)ws:  —  "You  shall  truly  and  justly  try  this  cause;  you  shall 
present  no  one  from  malice ;  you  shall  excuse  no  one  from  favour,** 


|'.«1U 


FRBF&CB. 


I 


Feeling  myself  thus  charged,  by  each  anil  every  one  of  ue  bwled 
queens  of  England,  wliosi'  actions,  from  the  crudie  to  Iht  tomb,  1  was 
about  to  liiy  betbre  the  public,  1  considered  the  responsibility  of  the 
taak.  rather  than  the  necessity  of  expediting  the  publication  of  the 
work.  The  number  of  auihoritiea  required,  some  of  wht'-h  could  not 
be  obtained  in  England,  and  the  deep  research  among  iii-"  Nortoui, 
Provencal,  French,  and  monastic  Latin  chroniclers,  that  was  indispen- 
•ably  necessary,  made  it  impossible  to  hurry  out  a  work  which  I 
hoped  to  render  permanently  useful, 

As  it  has  been  one  ofuiy  principal  objects  to  render  the  Uves  of  our 
Queens  a  work  of  general  interest  to  every  class  of  readers,  I  have 
modernized  the  orthography  of  extracts  from  ancient  authors,  and 
endeavoured  as  much  as  possible  to  avoid  prolix  and  minute  details, 
on  matters  more  suited  to  the  researches  of  the  antiquary  than  to 
volumes  which,  I  would  fain  hope,  may  find  a  place  in  domestic  libra- 
ries, as  well  as  public  literary  institutions. 

The  Introduction  contains  brief  notices  of  our  ancient  British  and 
Saxon  queens.  Their  records  are,  indeed,  too  scanty  to  admit  of  any 
other  arrangement.  Yet  a  work  professing  to  be  ihe  history  of  tlie 
female  royalty  of  our  country,  would  have  been  incomplete  without 
some  mention  of  those  princesses. 

The  plan  of  chronological  arrangement  adopted  in  this  work  pre- 
■enied,  at  £rsl  sight.  ^ reat  difficulties  in  writing  the  lives  of  querns 
who  survived  their  royal  husbands,  and  were  involved,  as  queen^dow- 
egers,  with  the  annals  of  succeeding  queen -con  so  ris.  Sometimes 
there  have  been  two  dowager-queens  of  England  contemporaries,  or 
two  dowager-queens  and  a  queen-consort,  as  In  the  reign  of  John, 
when  Beanora,  the  widow  of  Henry  11.,  Berengaria.  ihe  widow  of 
Richard  L.  and  Isabella,  ihe  consort  of  John,  were  all  in  existence  at 
the  same  period.  In  these  Instances,  and  others  where  it  has  been 
necessary  to  avoid  Ihe  evil  of  a  twice-told  late,  or  confusion  of  dates, 
the  sequel  of  the  queen-dowager's  memoirs  has  been  related  among 
the  chronological  events  of  the  era  to  which  it  belonged. 

The  biographies  of  Ihe  queens  of  England  commence,  in  their  natural 
order,  with  Ihe  life  of  Matilda,  the  consort  of  William  rhe  Conqueror, 
the  first  of  our  Anglo-Norman  queens,  and  the  mother  of  the  suc- 
ceeding line  of  kings,  whose  dynasty,  in  the  person  of  our  present 
sovereign  lady,  queen  Victoria,  occupies  the  throne  of  England.  Inde. 
pendenlly  of  her  Important  position  among  the  queens  of  England,  the 
Incidents  of  the  life  ofMalilda  are  peculiarly  interesting,  and  it  nlForda 
me  much  pleasure  to  make  her  better  known  to  the  English  reader, 
since  Ihe  rich  materials  of  which  her  memoir  is  composed  are  chiefly 
OeriredAvat  untranslated  Norman  and  Latin  chronicles.  i 


PRBFACB.  IX 

The  history  of  the  empress  Matilda  is  incorporated  with  tliose  of 
the  contemporary  queens  of  England,  with  whose  annals  the  events 
of  her  life  are  inseparably  connected. 

As  the  uniting  link  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  and  Anglo-Norman  dynas- 
ties, as  the  mother  of  the  royal  line  of  Plantagenet  kings,  the  empress 
Matilda  is  a  character  of  great  importance  in  the  annals  of  England ; 
hut  she  has  never  been  included  by  any  historian,  either  ancient  or 
modem,  in  the  catalogue  of  English  sovereigns.  Even  on  her  great 
seal  she  claimed  no  other  title  than  that  of  «*  Domina  of  England  ;**  and 
as  she  was  neither  a  crowned  nor  anointed  sovereign,  and,  though 
queen  de  jure,  she  fiiiled  to  establish  her  rights  by  force,  and  volunta- 
rily ceded  them  to  her  son  Henry  II.,  a  separate  memoir  of  this  prin- 
cess could  not  with  propriety  appear  among  those  of  the  queens  of 
England. 

The  life  of  Berengaria,  the  crusading  queen  of  Richard  CoBur  de 
Lion,  is  for  the  first  time  presented  to  the  public,  in  the  second  volume 
of  this  work. 

The  memoir  of  Isabella  of  Vaiois,  the  virgin  widow  of  Richard  IL, 
with  whose  eventful  history  some  authors  are  little  acquainted,  is 
included  in  these  biographies. 

The  memoir  of  Margaret  of  Anjou  contains  a  portion  of  her  life 
which  is  at  present  unknown  to  English  historians — the  details  of  her 
childhood  and  early  youth.  These  are  derived  from  the  most  authentic 
sources,  and  comprise  many  new  particulars,  both  of  her  personal  and 
public  life  as  queen  of  England,  and  the  mournful  epoch  of  her  widow- 
hood. 

The  life  of  Katharine  Parr  will,  I  venture  to  hope,  form  an  attractive 
portion  of  the  fifth  volume  of  the  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England  ;-^ 
my  ancestral  connexion  with  that  queen  affording  me  peculiar  facilities 
as  her  biographer. 

The  personal  histories  of  the  Anglo-Norman  and  several  of  the 
Plantagenet  queens  are  involved  in  such  great  obscurity,  that  it  has 
cost  years  of  patient  research,  among  English  and  foreign  chronicles, 
ancient  records,  antiquarian  literature,  and  collateral  sources  of  infor- 
mation of  various  kinds,  to  trace  out  the  events  of  their  lives,  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave.  The  most  difficult  part  of  the  undertaking  is  now 
achieved ;  for  the  concluding  volumes  of  the  lives  and  times  of  the 
queens  of  England  belong  to  eras  abounding  in  authentic  materials 
for  rojral  biography.  State  papers,  autograph  letters,  and  other  im- 
portant documents,  which  the  antiquarian  taste  of  the  present  age  has 
drawn  forth,  firom  repositories,  where  they  have  slumbered  among  tlie 
dust  of  centuries,  to  afford  their  silent,  but  incontrovertible  evidence, 
an  matti^rs  connected  both  with  the  public  and  private  V\\sXot^  o* 


I 


royalty,  enable  those  writers  who,  unbiassed  by  ihe  learMi  of  pvrtj 
■pirit.  deal  in  facts  ratlier  tlian  opinions,  in  unruvel  Ihe  tangled  web 
ol"  felsehfjod,  and  tn  set  forth  the  truth  in  alt  sincerity, 

In  conclusion,  I  have  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  to  iits  Efrace 
Ihe  duke  of  Norfolk,  and  to  Mr.  Howard  of  Uorby,  the  descendsnis 
of  queen  Adelicio,  for  some  important  parliculars  connected  with  the 
nfe  of  that  princess,  for  which  I  was  indebted  to  Ihe  ■•  Memorials  ol 
the  Hownrd  Pamily."  To  Mr.  Howard,  indeed,  my  ttmnka  ore  pecu- 
liarly due,  as  well  as  lo  his  sccomplished  son,  Philip  H.  Howard,  Esq. 
M.P.  forCarhale,  I  am  likewise  deeply  indebted  to  my  learned  friends, 
fitr  Thomas  Phillips  of  Middlehiti,  Sir  Harris  Nicolas,  and  Sir  Culhbert 
Sharp,  for  their  inestimable  Idndness  in  regard  to  MSS.  and  books  of 
reference. 

The  courteous  attention  I  have  receiveii  from  Sir  William  Woods, 
garler  king-at-arms,  and  the  valuable  assistance  afforded  by  G.  F. 
Dells.  Esq.  Lancaster  Herald,  end  C.  O.  Young,  Esq.  York  Herald, 

aim  also  my  grateful  remembrance. 

My  acknowledgments  must  likewise  be  otfered  to  the  Earl  of  Strad- 
oroke.  Lord  Mimnera,  D.  E.  Darey,  Esq.,  and  oilier  learned  and  noble 
lOdividuBla  in  my  nulive  county,  who  have  facilitated  my  arduous 
undertaking,  by  placing  tlieir  extensive  and  valualile  libraries  at  my 
■tlsposal :  nor  can  I  omit  to  express  my  sincere  npprtci.ition  of  the 
courteous  attention  and  assistance  I  have  received  during  roy  re- 
searches, from  Mr.  Calea  and  Mr.  Grabham,  librarians  al  the  British 
Museum,  and  ottier  gentlemen  connected  with  that  national  treasury 
of  learning. 

My  warmest  thanks  are  due  to  my  accompIislieJ  friend,  Mademoi- 
selle FaDtaJnr.  of  .\iniilly,  for  her  unwearied  kindness  in  supplying  me 
^iwlth  foreipi  chronicles,  and  in  transcribing  French  dorimients  from 
Biblioth(-<|iie  du  Roi,"  not  always  accessible  In  England  ;  also  to 
|4he  Rev.  J.  Hunter,  of  the  augmentation  Record  Oflicr  ;  to  J.  Bropc, 
iBsq.,  the  Ireaaurer  of  liie  Camden  Society,  and  the  learned  editor  of 
Ijtume  of  its  publications;  to  J.  O.  Haliiwell,  Esq.,  to  whose  reseai'ch 
ind  literary  labours  that  Society  is  so  much  indebted;  and  last,  not 
least,  to  that  dear  sister  who  is  my  fellow-labourer  and  faithful  assistant 
In  the  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England,  tliough  she  lias  forbidden  her 
name  to  be  united  on  the  title-page  with  that  of 

AGNES  STRICKLAND. 


PREFACE 


TO 


THE  SECOND  EDITION. 


^»«>^^»<»^^^i^^^ 


Thb  demand  (or  the  three  yolumes  of  the  **  Lives  of  the  dueens  of 
Bnglaad,**  already  before  the  public,  has  been  so  unexpectedly  rapid, 
that  a  very  large  edition  has  been  exhausted,  and  a  reprint  of  the 
commencing  portion  of  the  work  is  required,  before  the  concluding 
volumes  could  be  brought  through  the  press. 

This  unusual,  but  most  gratifying  circumstance,  has  afforded  an 
opportunity  for  corrections  and  additions,  which,  it  is  hoped,  will  ren* 
der  the  publication  more  worthy  of  the  flattering  reception  with  which 
it  has  been  honoured,  both  by  the  critical  press  and  the  public,  to 
whom  my  grateful  acknowledgments  are  due.  I  likewise  avail  myself 
of  this  circumstance  to  express  my  warmest  thanks  to  that  great 
historian.  Dr.  Lingard,  for  the  valuable  assistance  he  has  rendered  me 
In  the  present  edition. 


(x«) 


PREFACE 


THE  THIRD  EDITION. 


In  Introducing  a  third  edition  of  these  volumes  of  the  "  Lives  of  th 
Queens  of  England,"  it  may  be  proper  to  state,  that  they  have  agai 
undergone  a  complete  and  very  careful  revision,  and  that  variou 


INTRODUCTION. 


^^^^m^^0^*0*f*^mt»^0»^t0*0^^^t0 


^  Thb  dueen  of  England,**  says  that  learned  commentator  on  the 
laws  and  constitution  of  this  country,  Blackstone,  *Ms  either  queen- 
regnant,  queen-consort,  or  queen-dowager/'  The  first  of  these  is  a 
female  sovereign  reigning  in  her  own  right,  and  exercising  all  the 
functions  of  regal  authority  in  her  own  person, — as  in  the  case  of  her 
present  majesty,  queen  Victoria,  who  ascended  the  throne,  both  by 
rightful  inheritance,  the  consent  of  the  people,  and  also  in  full  accord- 
ance with  the  ancient  British  custom,  noticed  by  Tacitus  in  these 
remarkable  words : — **  Solent  fosminarum  ducta  bellare,  et  sexum  in 
imperils  non  discemere.'*  * 

No  other  princess  has,  however,  been  enthroned  in  this  land,  under 
such  auspicious  circumstances  as  our  present  sovereign  lady. 

Mary  L  was  not  recognised  without  bloodshed.  £lizabeth*s  title 
was  disputed.  Mary  II.  was  only  a  sovereign  in  name,  and  as  much 
dependent  on  the  wul  of  her  royal  husband  as  a  queen-consort  The 
archbishop  of  Canterbury  forfeited  the  primacy  of  England,  for  de- 
clining to  assist  at  her  coronation,  or  to  take  the  oaths.  The  same 
scruples  of  conscience  withhdd  the  nonjuring  bishops  and  clergy,  and 
many  of  the  nobility  and  gentry,  of  England,  from  performing  their 
homage  either  to  her  or  to  queen  Anne. 

Not  one  of  those  four  queens,  therefore,  was  crowned  with  the 
unanimous  consent  of  her  people.  But  the  rapturous  acclamations 
that  drowned  the  pealing  of  the  bells  and  the  thunders  of  the  artillery, 
at  the  recocrnition  of  our  beloved  liege  lady,  queen  Victoria,  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  can  never  be  forgotten,  by  those  who  then  heard  the 
voices  of  a  united  nation  uplifted  in  assent  I  was  present,  and  felt 
the  massy  walls  of  the  Abbey  thrill,  from  base  to  tower,  with  the 
mighty  sound,  as  the  burst  of  loyal  enthusiasm  within  that  august 
sanctuary  was  echoed  by  the  thronging  multitude  without,  hailmg  her 
queen  by  universal  suffrage. 

The  queen-recrnant,  in  addition  to  the  cares  of  government,  has  to 
preside  over  all  the  arrangements  connected  with  female  loyalty, 
which,  in  the  reign  of  a  married  king,  devolve  on  the  queen-consort ; 
she  has,  therefore,  more  to  occupy  her  time  and  attention  than  a  kmg. 

*Life€.^  i^icola. 


I         in  hei 
^  Tt)«  l] 


INTBODL'CTION. 

for  whom  the  laws  of  England  expressly  provide,  that  he  is  not  to  to 
troubled  with  his  wife's  affairs,  like  un  ordinary  husband. 

Tliere  have  been  but  Ihree  unmarried  kings  of  Enfilnnd,  Willlona 
Rufus,  Edward  V.,  and  Edward  VI.  Tlie  twu  latter  were  removed  at 
very  lender  age ;  but  the  Red  King  was  a  determined  bachelor,  and 
'  court,  unrestrained  by  llie  presence  and  beneBciai  influence  ol'  a 
_  wn,  was  the  locus  of  profaneness  and  all  evil-doing. 
The  Queens  of  England,  commencing  the  series  with  Matilda,  the 
of  Williaui  the  Conqueror,  ari?  forty  in  number,  including  her  pre- 
!ni  majesty  queen  Victoria,  tlie  sovereign  ol  these  reulms,  and  Ade- 
Ide,  our  revered  queen-dowager. 

Of  tliese.  file  are  queen-regnsnta,  or  sovereigns,  and  Ihirly-five 
queen-con«orts.  Our  present  series  begins,  not  acoording  to  rank,  but 
chronological  order,  with  the  queen-con soria,  of  whom  there  were 
twenty-six.  before  a  female  monarch,  ascending  the  throne,  combined 
in  her  own  person  the  high  office  of  queen  and  sovereign  of  England. 
The  lives  of  ilie  queen-regnants  will  appear  in  due  course,  ourgreat 
~'~}e<.-t  being  to  present,  in  a  regular  and  connected  chajn,  the  history 
lemale  royalty,  to  trace  the  progress  of  civilization,  learning,  aod 
_  iineinent  in  thi«  country,  and  to  sliow  bow  greutly  these  were  affected 
Ifey  qtieenly  inSuence  in  all  ages. 

The  wives  of  the  kings  of  England,  ttiough  wisely  excluded  by  the 
constitution  of  the  realm  from  any  share  in  the  government,  have  IVe>- 
quently  exercised  considerable  nuthority  in  atiajrs  of  state,  and  some 
bsve  tjn-n  regents  of  the  kingdom;  every  one  has  been  more  or  less  a 
'~*  trader  of  historical  importance,  aa  will  be  shown  m  their  respective 
e^raphiea. 

'he  earliest  British  queen  named  in  history  Is  CarlUmandua.  who, 
lUgh  a  married  woinun,  appears  lo  have  been  the  snvereign  of  th« 
iganies,  reigning  in  her  own  right.  This  was  about  the  year  50. 
Iluadicpa,  or  Btidva,  the  wurrinr  queen  of  Ilie  Iceni,  succeeded  her 
:eased  lord,  king  I'rasuliigus,  in  the  regal  office,  Speed  gives  us  a 
•ious  print  of  one  of  her  coins,  in  his  ciironicte.  The  desLTiption  of 
dreu  and  appearance,  on  the  morning  of  the  battle,  that  ended  so 
istrously  for  the  royal  amazon  and  her  country,  quoted  from  a 
_  nan  histohnn,  is  remarkably  picturesque : — 

"After  she  had  dismounted  from  her  chariot,  in  which  she  had  l>eea 
ivifig  fi^m  rank  to  rank  to  encourage  her  troops,  attended  by  her 
lughtera  and  her  numerous  army,  she  proceeded  to  a  throne  of 
irshy  turts,  apparelled  after  the  fashion  of  the  Romans,  in  a  loose 
iwn  of  changeable  colours,  under  which  she  wore  a  kirtle  very 
'  kly  plaited,  the  tresaes  of  her  yellow  hair  hanging  lo  the  skirts  of 
drew.  About  her  neck  she  wore  a  chain  of  gold,  and  bore  3  light 
"  tn  her  hand,  being  of  person  tall,  and  of  a  comely,  cheerful,  and 
■t  countenance;  and  so  a  while  she  stood,  pausing  to  survey  htv 
,  and  being  regarded  with  reverential  silence,  she  addressed  Uk 
an  Impassioned  and  eloquent  speech  on  the  wrongs  of  her  o 
try." 

The  overthrow  and  death  of  iliis  heroic  princess  took  place  ia  t 
year  60  ^ 

.  There  is  every  reason  to  suppose  tiiat  the  majestic  code  of 
"llied  the  comnmn  law  of  EngJ'ind.  usunlly  attributed  to  Alfred, 
f  him  derived  from  the  laws  first  established  by  a  British  qi 
Uaritn,"  says  iloHnshed,'  -surnaroed  Prolia,  or  tlie  Just,  was 
'  Hohiisbsd'i  DeMription  of  England,  vo\.  i.,  p.^^S,  *to.  •d. 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

widow  of  Gutiline,  king  of  the  Britons,  and  was  ]efl  protectress  of  the 
realm  during  the  minority  of  her  son.  Perceiving  much  in  the  con- 
duct of  her  subjects  which  needed  reformation,  she  devised  sundry 
wholesome  laws  which  the  Britons,  after  her  death,  named  the  Mar- 
tian statutes.  Alfred  caused  the  laws  of  this  excellently  learned  prin- 
cess, whom  all  commended  for  her  knowledge  of  the  Greek  tongue,  to 
be  established  in  the  realm."  These  laws,  embracing  trial  by  jury  and 
the  just  descent  of  property,  were  afterwards  collat^  and  still  larther 
improved  by  Edward  the  Confessor,  and  were  as  pertinaciously  de- 
manded from  the  successors  of  William  the  Conqueror,  by  the  Anglo- 
iNormans,  as  by  their  Anglo-Saxon  subjects. 

Rowcna,  the  wily  Saxon  princess,  who,  in  an  evil  hour  for  the  un- 
happy people  of  the  land,  became  the  consort  of  Vortigern  in  the  year 
450,  is  the  next  queen  whose  name  occurs  in  our  early  annals. 

Guiniver,  the  golden-haired  queen  of  Arthur,  and  her  faithless  suc- 
cessor and  namesake,  have  been  so  mixed  up  with  the  tales  of  the 
romance  poets  and  troubadours,  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  trace  a 
single  fact  connected  with  either. 

Among  the  queens  of  the  Saxon  Heptarchy,  we  hail  the  nursine 
mothers  of  the  Christian  faith  in  this  island,  who  firmly  established 
the  good  work  begun  by  the  British  lady  Claudia  and  the  empress 
Helena. 

The  first  and  most  illustrious  of  these  queens  was  Bertha,  the 
daughter  of  Cherebert,  king  of  Paris,  who  had  the  glory  of  converting 
her  pagan  husband,  Ethelbert,  the  king  of  Kent,  to'that  faith  of  which 
she  was  so  bright  an  ornament,  and  of  planting  the  first  Christian 
church  at  Canterbury.  Her  daughter,  Ethelburga,  was  in  like  man- 
ner the  means  of  inducing  her  valiant  lord,  Edwin,  king  of  Northum- 
bria,  to  embrace  the  Christian  faith.  Eanfled,  the  daughter  of  this 
illustrious  pair,  afterwards  the  consort  of  Oswy,  king  of  Mercia,  was 
the  first  individual  who  received  the  sacrament  of  baptism  in  North- 
umbrian 

In  the  eighth  century,  the  consorts  of  the  Saxon  kings  were  ex- 
cluded, by  a  solemn  law,  from  sharing  in  the  honours  of  royalty,  on 
account  of  the  crimes  of  the  queen  Edburga,  who  had  poisoned  her 
husband,  Brihtric,  king  of  Wessex;  and  eveh  when  Egbert  consoli- 
dated the  kingdoms  of  the  Heptarchy  into  an  empire,  of  which  he  be- 
came the  Bretwalda,  or  sovereign,  his  queen  Redburga  was  not  per- 
mitted to  participate  in  his  coronation. 

Osburga,  the  first  wife  of  Ethelwulph,  and  the  mother  of  the  great 
Alfred,  was  also  debarred  from  this  distinction;  but  when,  on  her 
death,  or,  as  some  historians  say,  her  divorce,  Ethelwulph  espoused 
the  t)eautiful  and  accomplished  Judith,  the  sister  of  the  emperor  of  the 
Franks,  he  violated  this  law,  by  placing  her  beside  him  on  the  King's 
Bench,  and  allowing  her  a  chair  of  state,  and  all  the  other  distinctions 
to  which  her  high  birth  entitled  her. 

This  afforded  a  pretence  to  his  ungallant  subjects,  for  a  general  re- 
volt, headed  by  his  eldest  son  Ethel  bald,  by  whom  he  was  deprived  of 
half  his  dominions.  Yet  Ethelbald,  on  his  father's  death,  was  so  cap- 
tivated by  the  charms  of  the  fair  cause  of  his  parricidal  rebellion,  that 
he  outraged  all  Christian  decency,  by  marrying  her. 

The  t>eautiful  and  unfortunate  Elgiva,  the  consort  of  Edwy,  has 
afforded  a  favourite  th#»me  for  poetry  and  romance  ;  but  the  partisans 
of  her  great  enemy.  Uunstan,  have  so  mystifie.l  h^r  history,  tl\tvl  VI 
wouJd  be  no  easy  matter  to  give  an  authentic  accouul  o1[  ht^v  Wle. 


INTBOOt:CTtOIf. 

K.  Elfrlda.  the  fair  and  false  queen  of  Edgar,  has  acquired  an  InfatnouB 
Jeeietirity,  for  ber  rcuiorselesa  liardncss  of  he&it.  She  did  not  possess 
■Hie  Ittleiild  necessary  to  the  accomplishmenl  of  her  design,  of  EcizJn^ 
Kihe  reins  of  government,  nJler  she  had  assassinated  her  unfottunale 
■ptep-son  St  Corle  Custlo:  lur  in  this  she  was  entirely  circumvented  by 
Ttte  pohlicnl  genius  of  Duiislan,  the  master  spirit  of  (he  age. 

Emma  of  Normandy,  the  beautiful  queen  of  Ethel  red,  and  after- 
V'VBrds  or  Canute,  piaya  a  conspicuous  part  in  the  Saxon  Annals. 
(There  is  a  Latin  treatise,  written  in  her  praise  by  a  contemporary  his- 
torian, entitled,  "  Kncomium  £mnifE ;"  but,  notwithstanding  the  Sorid 
tommenduiiuus  there  bestowed  upun  her,  the  cliaracter  of  this  queen 
Fnust  be  considereil  a  doubtful  one.    The  manner  in  which  she  sacri- 
ficed  the  interests  of  her  children  b^  her  first  husband,  Ethelred,  to 
those  by  her  second  unnatural  marriage  with  the  Danish  conqueror, 
is  httle  to  her  credit,  and  was  certainly  never  forgiven  by  her  son, 
Edward  the  Confessor  )  (hough  that  monarch,  alter  he  had  witnessed 
the  triumphant  manner  In  wliich  she  cleared  herself  of  the  charges 
bfoueht  against  her  by  her  foes,  by  passing  through  the  ordeal  of 
vslkmg  barefoot,  unscattied,  over  the  nine  red-ho(  plouglisharea  in 
Winches(er  Cathedral,  threw  himself  at  her  feet  in  a  transport  of  filial 
penitence.  Implored  her  pardon  with  tears,  and  submitted  to  the  dis- 
I  eipiine  ul  the  high  altar,  as  a  penance  for  having  exposed  her  to  such 
I  •  test  of  her  innocence.' 

Eiiilha,  the  consort  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  was  not  only  an 

JUninble,  but  a  learned  lady.    Tlie  Saxon  historian,  Ingulphus,  him- 

Vrfelf  a  scholar  at  Westminster  Monastery,  close  by  Editha's  palace, 

iffinns  that  the  queen  used  frequently  to  intercept  him  and  his  school- 

Ulows  in  her  walks,  and  asli  (hem  questions  on  (heir  progress  in 

rLntin.  or,  in  (he  words  of  his  translator,  "  moot  points  of  grammar 

'  with  Iliem,  in  which  she  oftentimes  posed  them."    Sometimes  slie  gave 

them  a  piece  of  silver  or  two  out  of  her  own  purse,  and  sent  them  to 

the  palace  buttery,  to  breaktkst     She  was  skilful  in  the  works  of  the 

ntedle,  und  with  her  own  hands  she  embroidered  the  garments  of  her 

Toyal  husband.  Edward  the  Confessor.     Bdilha  is  perhaps  the  most 

IftiterestinK  of  all  our  Saxon  queens,  and  it  was  not  without  regret 

'-  '  we  telt  precluded,  by  the  nature  of  the  plan  we  have  adopted, 

including  her  life  in  the  present  series  of  the  Lives  of  the  Queens 

f  England. 

I  Mi  I  net's  Wincheatar. 


MATILDA  OF  FLANDERS, 


QUEEN    or   WILLIAM    THE    CONQUEROR. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Tlt1«  of  qnaen — ^Regina — ^Matilda  first  so  called — Her  descent  from  AlfVed— 
P^ettts'-^EducatioD— Learoing — Beauty — Character— Skill  in  embroidery- 
Sought  in  marriage  by  William  of  Normandy— His  passionate  love — ^Unsuc- 
cessful oourtship-^Brihtric  Meaw,  the  English  eniroy*— Matilda's  love  for  him 
— Perseverance  of  William  of  Normandy-— Furious  conduct  of  William  to 
Matilda — ^Their  marriage— Rich  apparel — William's  early  life — ^William  and 
Matilda  excommunicated— Dispensation — Matilda's  taste  for  architecture-*- 
Matilda's  sister  married  to  Tostig — ^Birth  of  Matilda's  eldest  son — ^Harold's 
Tisit — ^Betrothed  to  Matilda's  daughter — William's  invasion  of  England — ^Le^ 
ter  to  Matilda's  brother— ^Matilda  appointed  Regent  of  Normandy— Her  son 
Robert — Happy  arrival  of  Matilda  in  the  Mora — Ship  presented  by  her— 
William  sails  in  it  to  England — Matilda's  delineations — Battle  of  Hastings- 
News  of  victory  brought  to  Matilda — Our  Lady  of  Good  Tidings. 

Matilda,  the  wife  of  Wflliam  the  Conqueror,  was  the  first  consort 
of  a  king  of  England  who  was  called  rtgina}  This  was  an  innovation 
in  the  ancient  customs  of  the  land,  for  the  Saxons  simply  styled  the 
wife  of  the  king  ^  the  lady  his  companion,''*  and  to  them  it  was  dis- 
pleasing to  hear  the  Normans  speak  of  Matilda  as  la  reine,  as  if  she 
were  a  female  sovereign,  reigning  in  her  own  right  :^  so  distinct  in 
those  days  was  the  meaning  attached  in  this  country  to  the  lofty  title 
of  reUie^  or  reginOf  from  that  of  queen,  which,  though  at  present  the 
highest  female  title  of  honour  used  in  England,  then  only  signified 

companion. 

■  ■<  I    ■      ^— — ^-^^i^— ^^^-^-^— ^— ^»— ^^ 

'  Thierxy*s  Anglo>Normans.  In  the  Boomsday-book,  Matilda,  the  wife  of  tha 
Conqneror,  is  called  Matilda  Regina. 

*  Hlafdige  m  ewene  is  the  Saxon  phrase.  Hlafdige,  or  lady,  means  the  giver 
of  bread.  Cwene,  or  Quen,  was  anciently  used  as  a  term  of  equality,  indisorimi* 
nately  applied  to  both  sexes.  In  the  old  Norman  chronicles  and  poems,  instead 
of  the  Duke  of  Normandy  and  his  peers,  the  phrase  used  is  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
mandy and  his  Quens.  **  The  vrord  quen^  signifying  companion,"  says  Rapin, 
vol.  i.  p.  148,  **  was  common  both  to  men  and  women."  So  lata  as  the  tfamaaath 
century,  a  collection  of  poems  written  by  Charles  of  Aigou  and  his  courtiers,  is 
quoted  as  the  songs  of  the  Qnens  of  Aqjoo.  Also  in  a  chant  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury, enumerating  the  war-cries  of  the  French  proviaoes,  we  find 

*■  And  the  quem  of  Thlbaut 
'Champagne  and  passavmnt'  cry!** 


The  people  of  the  Innri  mnrmnred  among  ihnmselves  at  Aw  rniprfr 

f  vedeiiieil  usuniption  of  <ligniiy,  in  the  wife  of  (bcir  Nnrnian  sovereign ; 

Lyet  ^  llie  slraiige  woman,"  as  tliey  called  Slaiilila,  coulil  boasl  of  royal 

PSuon  blood.'     She  was,  iu  fact,  the  direct  deaceiidaiit  of  the  best  rdH 

■  DobWt  of  their  iiioiMrchs,  AlfreJ,  through  [he  marriage  of  his  diiu^hi«r, 

[Slstrith,  with  Baldwin  H.  of  Flanilpr*,  who«e  son.  Arnold  (he  Gr«ai, 

I  the  immeiliaCe  nntestoT  of  Slalilda, — an   inlareatiiig  cimmiBlaiicr 

khich  history  posses  over  in  silence.     Few  of  the  tjuecns  of  England, 

biliwl,  can  claim  a  more  illusiiions  descent  (han  this  princess.     Her 

fciher.  Baldwin  V„  suruami-ij  the  Gentle.  Earl  of  Flaiidera,  was  tlm  son 

if  Baldwin  IV.  by  Eleanors,  daii^I^r  or<1iikc  Richard  [I.  of  Normandy; 

IDiI  her  iDoiber  was  Auelais,  daughter  of  Robert,  king  of  France,  anil 

T  In  Henry,  tlie  reigitinf  sovoceifn  of  tluit  country-     She  was  nearly 

lelatcd  to  the  emperor  of  (jermany,  and  lo  most  of  the  royal  families  in 

Matdda  was  bom  about  the  year  1031.  and  was  very  carefully  edu- 
She  was  poHgcsted  of  fine  natural  lalenUt,  and  was  no  less  cde- 
raied  for  her  learning  than  for  her  great  bMuiy.  William  of  Malmsbury, 
Bpi'Aking  of  this  jirincess,  says. "  She  was  a  singular  mirror  of 
rudencc  in  our  days,  and  the  perfection  of  virtue." 

King  her  other  acquireuienls.  Matilda  was  particularly  famed  for 
'  skill  in  otiiantental  needlework,  which,  in  tkit  age,  was  considered 
e  of  the  moci  important  and  desirable  accomplishments  which  prin- 
•*e»  and  ladies  of  higii  rank  could  possess.  We  are  told  by  a  worthy 
thmnicler,'  '•That  tlie  prnliciency  of  the  four  sisters  of  King  Alhelstane, 
spinning,  weaving,  and  embroiderj-,  procured  these  royal  spinsters 
essea  of  the  gre-Blest  princes  in  Europe.^ 
lie  fame  of  this  excellent  sdlchery  is,  however,  all  the  memorial 
ins  of  tlie  industr}-  of  Slalilda^s  Saxon  cousins;  but  her  own 
^  the  Bayeux  tapestry,  is  still  in  existence,  and  is,  beyond  all 
(tilion,  the  most  wonderful  achievement,  in  the  gentle  craft  of  net 
4  that  ever  was  cxecuterl  by  fair  and  royal  hands.  But  of  ihia  we 
have  la  speak  more  fully  in  its  proper  place,  as  a  pictorial  chronicle 
e  conquest  of  England. 

le  earl  of  Flanders.  Matilda's  father,  was  a  rich,  powerful,  and  poti- 
't  prince,  equally  skilled  in  the  arts  of  war  and  of  peace.  It  was  to  him 
the  town  of  Lille,  which  he  rebuilt  and  greatly  beautitied,  OW«d  lla 
>e>]umi  greotnesa;  and  the  home  manufactures  of  his  native  country 
rough  his  juclidnus  encouragement,  became  a  source  of  wenlth  anil 
usperily  lo  Flanders.  His  lamily  coimeiion  with  the  king  of  France, 
a  utitrinn  and  ally,  and  his  intimate  relationship  to  most  of  ijie  royal 
juses  in  Europe,  rendered  his  alliance  very  desirable  lo  several  of  the 
pkigninj  princen,  his  ueighbonrs,  who  became  suitors  for  llie  baud  of 
'»  bnauttful  daughter. 

""  I  must  accomplished  of  these  was  the  young  duke  William  of 
Homiamly,  who  was  not  only  desirous  of  this  union  in  a  poUtical  pma 
■  Noimaa  Anlii<iitin. 


ratlw 

m 

•edie-     I 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDERS.  «9 

of  view,  but  passionately  enamoured  of  his  fair  cousin.  Yet  William, 
though  no  less  remarkable  for  the  manly  beauty  of  his  person  than  for 
his  knightly  prowess  in  the  field,  and  his  great  talents  as  a  legislator, 
had,  in  the  first  instance,  the  mortification  of  receiving  a  very  discou- 
raging reply  to  his  suit,  not  only  from  the  parents  and  kindred  of  the 
young  lady,  but  also  from  herself.  The  fact  was,  Matilda  had  bestowed 
her  first  afiections  on  a  young  Saxon  nobleman,  named  Brihtric  Meaw, 
who  had  visited  her  &ther^s  court  in  the  quality  of  ambassador  from 
Edward  the  Confessor,  king  of  England.' 

Brihtric,  sumamed  Snaw,  or  Snow,  from  the  fairness  of  his  complexion,  ^ 
was  the  son  of  Algar,  the  lord  of  the  honour  of  Gloucester,  and  pos-  - 
«e8sed  of  very  ei^tensive  domains  in  that  county.  He  appears,  however, 
to  have  been  insensible  to  the  regard  with  which  he  was  distinguished 
by  Matilda.  This,  together  with  the  dark  sequel  of  the  tale,  which  will 
be  subsequently  related,  is  one  of  those  authentic  but  obscure  facts  which 
occasionally  tinge  the  page  of  history  with  the  semblance  of  romance. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  the  passion  which  Matilda  cherished  for 
the  fiur-haired  English  envoy,  was  dbe  most  formidable  of  all  the  obsta- 
cles with  which  her  cousin,  William  of  Normandy,  had  to  contend 
during  the  tedious  period  of  his  courtship. 

A  less  determined  character  would  have  given  up  the  pursuit  as  hope- 
less ;  but  William,  having  once  fixed  his  mind  upon  this  marriage,  was 
not  to  be  deterred  by  difficulties  or  discouragements.  It  was  in  vain 
that  his  foes  and  jealous  kinsmen  intrigued  against  him  in  the  Flemish 
court ;  that  the  parents  of  the  lady  objected  to  his  illegitimate  birth,  and 
his  doubtful  title  to  the  duchy  of  Normandy ;  that  the  church  of  Rome 
interdicted  a  marriage  between  parties  within  the  forbidden  degrees  of 
consanguinity ;  and,  worae  than  all,  the  lady  herself  treated  him  with 
coldness  and  hauteur.  After  seven  years'  delay,  William  appears  to  have 
become  desperate ;  and  if  we  may  trust  the  evidence  of  the  chronicle  of  1 
Inger,  he,  in  the  year  1047,  waylaid  Matilda  in  the  streets  of  Bruges,  as 
she  was  returning  from  mass,  seized  her,  rolled  her  in  the  dirt,  spoiled 
her  rich  array,  and,  not  content  with  these  outrages,  struck  her  repeat- 
edly, and  then  rode  off  at  full  speed.  This  Teutonic  method  of  court- 
ship, according  to  our  author,  brought  the  af&ir  to  a  crisis ;  for  Matilda, 
either  convinced  of  the  strength  of  William's  passion  by  the  violence  of 
his  behaviour,  or  afraid  of  encountering  a  second  beating,  consented  to 
become  his  wife.'  How  he  ever  presumed  to  enter  her  presence  again, 
after  such  a  series  of  enormities,  the  chronicle  saith  not,  and  we  are  at  a 
loss  to  imagine. 

The  marriage  between  the  royal  cousins  took  place  in  1052,  at  Wil- 
liam's own  castle  of  Angi,  in  Normandy,  whither  Matilda  was,  with 
great  pomp,  conducted  by  her  illustrious  parents,  and  a  noble  company 
of  knights  and  ladies. 

*  Chronicle  of  Tewkesbury,  Cotton.  MSS.  Cleopatra,  c.  Ill,  220.  Lelaod'8 
Collections,  vol.  i.  p.  78.  Monasticon,  111,  50.  Palgrave'8  Rise  and  Progress, 
vol.  L  p.  294.     Thierry's  Anglo-Normans,  vol.  i.  p.  335. 

*  Chronicle  of  Inger,  likewise  called  Ingerius.  The  anecdote  has  bediL  liana 
kied  by  J.  P«  Andxewju 


I 

I 

I 


Wnee,'  iq  hia  poetical  ehronirle  of  the  dukes  of  Norniainivi  wys, 
**  that  Ihe  couiiu  her  farher,  gave  Matilda  joyfully,  with  very  rich  appa- 
reilfmenl,  that  she  was  very  fair  aiid  graceful,  and  that  William  macried 
her  by  the  advice  of  his  baronaife.'" 

The  royal  mnnlle.  pimiahed  wilh  jewels,  in  which  Matilda  wsa  ar- 
nycd  ou  the  day  of  her  espouanls,  atid  also  Ihal  worn  by  her  mighty 
totd  on  the  aome  occasion,  together  with  his  helmet,  were  long  pre* 
•erred  in  the  treasury  of  the  cathedral  of  Bayeux,  Lancelot  mentions 
8n  inventory  of  prerious  effecia  belonging  to  ihe  chareh,  dated  1476,  in 
which  these  cosily  bridal  eiimietits  are  enumerated.  ImmedtBlely  after 
ihe  marriage  solemniiy,  William  conducted  his  fair  and  royal  bride  lo 
Ronm,  "  where,"  says  Wace,  "  she  was  greatly  served  and  honoured." 

Nothing  could  be  more  perilous  than  the  position  of  William's  afGi'm 
"«  the  period  of  his  marriage  with  Matilda  of  Flanders.  He  was  me- 
naced OD  every  side  by  powerful  neighbours,  who  were  eager  to  appro- 
priate and  parcel  out  the  fertile  Gelda  of  Normandy,  to  the  enlargement 
of  their  respective  borders ;  and  at  the  name  time  a  formidable  party  waa 
amying  itself  against  him  within  his  own  dominions,  in  favour  of  Guy 
of  Burgundy,  ilie  eldest  son  of  his  annt  Alice.  This  prince  was  the 
ncarcai  legiiiinate  male  descendant  of  duke  Richard  the  Second  of  Nor- 
Inandy;  and  as  the  direct  line  had  failed  with  duke  Robert,  the  late  sove- 
>rign,  he  was.  notwithstanding  the  operation  of  the  Salic  law,  considered 
hy  many  to  possess  a  belter  right  to  the  dukedom  than  the  son  of  duke 
niehard  by  Arlolta,  the  skinner's  daughter  of  Falaise.  The  pariiculRra 
of  William^  birth  are  too  well  known  lo  reqoire  Tecapitulalion  ;  but  it 
ia  proper  to  notice  thai  there  are  historians  who  maintain  that  Ariotta 
%as  the  wife  of  dake  Robert,  though  not  of  rank  or  breeding  fit  to  he 
acknowledged  as  his  dnchess.'  This  we  are  disposed  to  regard  as  a  mere 
naradox,  since  William,  who  would  have  been  only  too  happy  to  avail 
nimaeir  of  llie  plea  of  even  a  contract  or  promise  of  marriage  between 
his  parents,  in  order  to  strengthen  his  defective  liile  by  a  pretence  of 
lagfitimacy,  never  made  any  ^uch  assertion.  On  the  contrary,  not  only 
before  hia  victorious  sword  had  purchased  for  him  a  more  honourable 
ntname,  but  even  afterwards,  he  submitted  to  the  use  of  the  one  derived 
from  his  mother's  shame,  and  in  the  charter  of  the  lands  which  he  be- 
llowed on  his  son-in-law.  Alan,  duke  of  Bretagne,  in  Yorkshire,  he  nil^ 
■cribcd  himself  ^William  sumamed  Baslardus."* 

It  IS  a  genera]  opinion  that  Arioita  was  manied  to  Herlewin  of  Conte- 
»ille  dtiririg  the  lifetime  of  duke  Robert,  and  that  this  circumsianee  pre- 
vented any  possibility  of  William  aiiempiing  to  assert  that  he  wa*  the 
lagitimate  oflspring  tk  his  royal  aire.' 

*  The  aullior  of  llie  Roman  de  Rao. 
'  The  noblpt  or  Nonnsn'ly,  minding  iti^ir  rluke  of  sueceAUon,  penoaileil  bin 

IS  tiiarry  Maulila,  or  Miiiul,  daughter  of  Baldwin  V.,  of  Fland™, — Sandfbol. 
■  Vfjlliun  of  Malmibniy.     Ingulpbus.  'LeUnd. 

*  After  ibe  icoeuion  of  Henry  ihe  Second  lo  the  Ihronp,  ■  Saion  pnligrva  ww 
'  bnniuualjr  invented  Ibr  Arlc^H,  whidi  is  loo  grest  a  euruMily  to  t>e  oaiitied. 
L^Samni '    "  .....  ....... 


■nil  Ifontjile,"  fsyt  ibe  Saxon  ganralopst,  "  bad  iwo  tons,  Edwin  ond 
name  doci  not  appear  in  tumarf  baeaaN ' 


i 


ATI  LDA    OP    FLA 


4 


lAfV-onling  to  all  historians,  William  was,  rrom  ihe  very  momenl  of  hia 
~'ii  r«^rci(<tl  as  a  child  of  the  most  singular  promiae.     The  manful 
with  whi<rh  his  baby  hand  detained  the  rushes  nf  which  ho  had 
n  uriicn"  '  the  moment  after  his  entrance  into  life,  when,  in  conse- 
>e  of  the  danger  of  hia  mother,  he  was  pemiiited  to  lie  unheeded 
e  floor  of  his  chamber,  where  he  first  saw  tiie  light,'  gnve  occasion 
lijtothe  oracular  gossips  in  attendance  on  Arlotia  to  predict  "that  the  child 
uld  become  a  mighty  man,  ready  to  acquire  everything  within  his 
ich,  Bnd  that  which  he  acquired  he  would  with  a  strong  hand  stead- 
maintain  against  all  challengers." 
It  does  not  appear  that  duke  Hobert  bestowed  much  notice  on  the 
5  during  the  early  stages  of  infancy ;  indeed,  the  contrary  may  be 
J  from  the  testimony  of  the  historian,'  who  Hays,  "  When  William 
year  old,  he  was  introduced  into  the  presence  of  his  father;  and 
Ata  (hike  Robert  saw  what  o  goodly  and  tkir  child  he  was.  and  how 
lely  he  resembled  the  royal  line  of  Normandy,  he  embiaced  him,  and 
inwlcdged  him  to  be  iiis  son,  and  caused  him  to  receive  princely 
ure  ID  his  own  palace.     When  William  was  live  years  old,  a  batta- 
I  of  boys,  of  his  own  age,  was  placed  under  his  command,  with 
in  b«  practised  the  military  exercise,  according  to  the  custom  of 
e  days.     Over  these  infant  followers  William  assumed  the  authority 
■  Borereign  in  miniature;  and  if  dissensions  arose  among  them,  they 
lays  referred  to  his  decision,  and  hia  judgments  are  said  to  have  been 
taikable  for  their acuteness  and  equity."*    Thus  early  in  life  did  the 
Hiiy  Norman  learn  to  enact  the  character  of  a  leader  and  legislator. 
Itore  had,  indeed,  eminently  lilted  him  for  the  lofty  station  which  be 
a  aftarwudi  destined  to  fill ;  and  his  powerful  talents  were  strength- 
ened and  improved  by  an  education  such  as  few  princes  in  that  rude,  un- 
lettered age  were  so  fortunate  an  to  receive.     At  the  age  of  eight  yeari 
he  was  able  to  read  and  explain  Caisar's  Comraenlariea.' 

Tlie  heauiy  and  early  promise  of  this  boy  caused  him  to  be  regarded 
with  peculiar  interest  by  the  Normans ;  but  as  a  child  of  fliegitimate 
birth,  William  possessed  no  legal  claim  to  the  succession.  His  title  was 
■imply  founded  on  the  appointment  of  the  duke,  his  father.  This  prince, 
having  no  other  issue,  had  centered  all  the  doting  affection  of  i  fulher'fl 

bar  twd  e<nHlucl,  aceiDi:  tliat  she  rormBd  a  most  iinprudeni  ■lliance  with  the 
kins'*  aklnoM.  Tba  king,  id  bis  sngci,  tnuiiihed  ihe  skinner  f^om  England, 
CPtlier  with  bis  daughter.  Tlioy  both  wc-ut  la  Normamly,  wlieio  they  lived  oa 
rublic  charity,  anil  luul  sucoessively  diree  d&ughlerB.  Uaviag  one  day  oomi 
Fvlitiiw  to  licg  «  duke  Ricbncd's  duor,  ihr  duke,  sltupk  with  ihe  bcBUly  of 
laa  anil  hei  ohildren,  aaked,  ■  who  aho  ws>  V  '  I  am  an  Englishwoman,' 
, 'And  of  die  royal  btooil.'  Tlie  duke,  on  Ibia  answer,  ueat«d  her  with 
jui,  took  the  ildnner  into  liia  tervicv,  and  liad  ODO  of  his  daughten  brought 
D  tlM  palaiu).     She  wa*  Arloue  or  CkarSaUi,  the  roolliec  of  Ihe  Couqueioi.  — 


ioa  _■ 

SI 

?ith     ^ 


O  frndal  leun  for  takiiig  poiaesaiiin. 
"•  Life  pf  the  Conr\ueToi. 
Hlooording  id  William  of  JMntm;>bury.  the 

;ultuni  wna  grpoL     Thrau|{baul  life 


William  of  MHlmsboty, 


Ibid. 


^  which  the  CoiiqDeR<r 


I 


pes  HA  TILDA    OF    PLAHDBRS. 

hart  on  the  foun^  William ;  and  feeling  naWrally  deslroue  of  securing 
Id  him  ihe  iJum]  crown,  before  he  sel  oui  on  his  my^tfrious  pilgrimage 
for  l)ie  Holy  Uind,  he  called  ihe  peers  of  Normandy  logeihrr,  in  llie 
HoipI  dc  Ville,  and  required  thfm  to  swear  fealiy  \o  his  son,  whom  he 
then  aolecnnlv  appoinied  for  hia  cuccMsor.  When  the  princely  boy, 
tiiMi  n  child  of  siei-eii  years  old,  was  brouglil  in  lo  receive  the  homage 
of  the  usenibled  nobles,  duke  Robert  look  him  in  his  anns,  and,  after 
lUBeing  and  paastonately  enibrai^ing  him^  he  pretiented  him  to  hts  valiant 
t^Qura*"  as  their  future  sovereign,  with  ihia  remark,  "He  is  little,  but 
he  will  grow."  ' 

The  peers  of  Normandy  gralilied  their  departing  lord  by  paying  the* 
homage  required  lo  the  young  William.  The  duke  then  appointed  ht« 
Vosaof,  kinsman  an<l  fnenil,  Alan,  duke  of  Breiagne.  seneFchal  of  his  do- 
tninions,  with  full  [rower  to  govern  the  state  of  Normandy  in  his  >b- 
•ence.  Thea  he  carried  his  son  lo  Paris,  and  delivered  him  into  the 
huid*  of  the  king  of  France,  his  tuuraiiL,  or  paramount  lord :  and  hir- 
ing received  his  promisee  of  protecting  and  rherishing  the  boy  with  a 
loving  care,  he  made  William  perform  the  same  homage  to  that  monarch 
M  if  he  WCTE  already  the  reigning  duke  of  Normandy;  by  which  be 
•ecured  his  sovereign's  recognition  of  the  title  of  his  little  vassal-peer  to 
the  ducal  crown-  After  lhe«>e  arrengrmenis,  duke  liobert  departed  on 
that  expedition  from  which  be  never  again  returned  lo  his  own  domi- 

At  the  court  of  his  sovereign,  Henry  1.  of  France,  the  uncle  of  his 
future  spouse,  Maidda  of  Flanders.  WdJiam  completed  his  education,  and 
learned  the  science  of  diplomacy,  secure  from  all  the  factions  and  intrigues 
with  which  Normandy  was  convulsed.  The  slates,  true  to  the  fully 
they  had  «wom  to  the  son  of  their  deceased  lord,  sent  ambassadors  to 
'It  «l  ppiil,  miiii  il  cmiiein, — Wttce. 
'Cbroiiielo  of  Nnrimmily.     Malmtbaij. 

*Ie  wu  wL»iwr«l  bf  tome  itiai  duke  Robert  onHcnmik  this  pilgrimaga  to  Je- 
tnailcin  a*  an  (-i|iiiitorT  ponance  for  llie  ilealti  ot  liis  elder  bnitliec  nni)  MV» 
tdEn,  ilnko  Rii  haid  111.,  wbiah  be  wiu  luspMirJ  of  having  liBiipned;  wliUa 
mhiCM  boliwKl  be  vrm*  impelled  (kma  molirei  of  piety  aJone  lo  pty  liis  row*  al 
Ihe  L»l7  p«r«,  aumnliiii;  lu  a  new  bul  prevailing  npiiit  of  niiwlirerteJ  ilov-itiM^ 
whioh  ntanllVstciI  iTtrlf  among  the  princes  aiu)  tioblM  of  that  af-  of  lupciicmcn 
and  romance.  Witetliat  duke  Robert  ever  reachnt  the  place  of  liii  iltrMiiiabda, 
tl  OManaiD.  Tbe  Inst  anlhcntic  tiilinp  reB|>ecliiig  liim  thnt  resctlieH  hi*  oaphal 
WW*  brougbi  by  Pirou,  a  reiumed  piltcriin  from  the  Holy  I^nd.  wto  rcponad 
Aal  be  tonl  bis  lord,  tha  dulie  of  Nomiand]',  on  his  way  lo  Ihn  Holjr  City,  borae 
I  llio  (binildets  uf  four  Mout  SnJacens,  being  Iben  loo  ill  la  prnowd 
ley  on  foot.  When  Ihe  rojfal  pilgrim  recogniied  his  vi 
eloiniMl,  wllh  gKBt  animaiion,  "  Tell  my  valiBiil  pwra  llisE  fou  hs 

ign  ntrrinl  inwatdi  hearan  on  the  baclu  of  llrnds." — Willum  of  Midm 
Whether  thit  oBGooneous  Bansioa 

t  •uBletentlj  intelligible  to  ibem  to  Inve  the  efleut  <if  pn>niking'll«i» 

into   •hnrtniing   hi>  joume)'  ihilher,  we   know   not     Some  chronicle*,  indanl, 

a»en  ibai  he  died  at  Nicea.  lu  ffiilirnia,  on  lii^  lenim;  l>ul  there  ia  a  (liange 

I  hit  faie,  and  il  >|ipeBr9  Ilist  tha  Norman  noble*  long 

•tp«rle<l  hl>  return  —  »n  cxptvlation  thai  »n«  probably  man  Bivo 

of  duke  ftoban. 


MATILDA    OP    FLANDBRl.  23 

Paris,  to  claim  their  young  duke.*  The  king  of  France  resigned  him  to 
the  deputies,  but  soon  after  invaded  his  dominions.  William,  howevei, 
was  possessed  of  energies  equal  to  any  difficulties  in  which  he  might  be 
placed,  and  he  had  some  &ithful  and  powerful  friends  among  the  coun- 
sellors of  his  late  fiuher.  Raoul  de  Gace  and  Roger  de  Beaumont  stoudy 
maintained  the  cause  of  their  young  duke,  both  in  the  court  and  in  the 
camp.  They  were  his  tutors  in  the  art  of  war,  and  through  their  assist- 
ance and  advice  he  was  enabled  to  defeat  tlie  king  of  France,  and  to 
maintain  the  dignity  of  a  sovereign  and  military  chief,  at  a  period  of  life 
when  princes  are  generally  occupied  in  childish  amusements,  or  the 
pleasures  of  the  chase.' 

One  by  one,  almost  every  Norman  noble  who  could  boast  any  portion 
of  the  blood  of  RoUo,  the  founder  of  the  ducal  line  of  Normandy,  was 
incited  by  king  Henry  of  France  to  stir  up  an  insurrection,  as  a  rival 
claimant  of  the  crown.  On  one  occasion,  William  would  in  all  proba- 
bility have  fallen  a  victim  to  the  plot  which  his  cousin  Guy  of  Burgundy 
had  laid  to  surprise  him,  when  he  was  on  a  hunting  excursion,  and  was 
to  pass  the  night  without  any  of  his  military  retinue,  at  the  castle  of 
Valc^es ;  but  from  this  peril  he  was  preserved  by  the  fidelity  of  his 
fool,  who,  happening  to  overhear  the  conspirators  arranging  their  plan, 
travelled  all  night  at  full  speed  to  give  the  duke  notice  of  his  danger; 
and  finding  means  to  make  an  entrance  into  the  casde  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  he  struck  violently  with  the  handle  of  his  whip  at  the 
chamber-door  of  his  sleeping  sovereign,  and  shouted,  ^Levez,  levez, 
Seigneur  .'^^  till  he  succeeded  in  rousing  him.  So  close  at  hand,  how- 
ever, were  Guy  of  Burgundy  and  his  confederates,  that  it  was  only  by 
mounting  his  swiftest  steed,  half-dressed,  and  riding  with  fiery  speed  for 
many  hours,  that  William  could  efiect  his  escape  from  his  pursuers ;  and 
even  then  he  must  have  fallen  into  their  hands,  if  he  had  not  encountered 
a  gendeman  on  the  road,  with  whom  he  changed  horses,  his  own  being 
thoroughly  spent  Guy  of  Burgundy  was  afterwards  taken  prisoner  by 
the  young  duke ;  but  having  been  on  affectionate  terms  with  him  in  his 
childhood,  he  generously  forgave  him  all  the  trouble  he  had  occasioned 
him,  and  his  many  attempts  against  his  life.' 

The  king  of  France  was  preparing  to  attack  William  with  redoubled 
fury^  at  the  period  when,  by  his  fortunate  marriage  with  Matilda,  he 
strengthened  his  defective  title  to  the  throne  of  Normandy,  by  uniting 
himself  with  a  legitimate  descendant  of  the  royal  line,  and  at  the  same- 
time  acquired  a  powerful  ally,  in  the  person  of  his  father-in-law,  the  eail 
of  Flanders.  The  death  of  Henry  averted  the  dark  storm  that  lowered 
over  Normandy ;  and  the  young  Philip  of  France,  his  son  and  successor, 
having  been  left  during  his  minority  under  the  guardianship  of  his  aunt's 
husband,  Baldwin  of  Flanders,  Matilda's  fother,  William  found  himself 
entirely  relieved  from  all  present  fears  of  hostility  on  the  part  of  France.* 
Scarcely,  however,  was  he  preparing  himself  to  enjoy  the  happiness  of 


'Chronicle  of  Normandy.  •  Ibid.    Malmsbury.   Wace. 

'Chronicle  of  Normandy.    MezeraL    Wace. 
*Sl  Marthe.    Wace. 


aroee,  which  had  b«eD  little 


W  HATILDAOPFLA 

vcdiled  life,  when  >  caase  of  annoyance 
aDticipaied.' 

Mau^r.  Uio  arehbtBhop  pf  Ronen,  an  illegitimate  uncle  of  the  yonnf 
duke,  who  had  taken  great  pains  to  prevent  hia  maniage  with  Matilda  air 
FtaiiHcra,  finding  all  the  obstacles  which  he  had  mised  ai^nsi  it  vren 
unavailing,  proceeded  to  pronounce  sentence  of  excornmunicaiinn  a^nst 
the  nctrly-wedded  pnir,  under  the  plea  of  its  being  a  marringe  witliin  th< 
forbidden  degrees  of  ronsangiiinily/  and  therefore  unlawful  in  the  nghl 
cf  man.  and  abominable  to  God. 

William  indignantly  appealed  to  the  pope  against  this  «enienre,  who, 

on  the  parties  submitting  to  the  usual  tines,  nuitified  the  arehbishop'a 

I  ecclesiastical  censures,  and  granted  the  dispensation  for  the  marriage,  on 

I  eoniiiiion  of  the  young  duke  and  duchess  each  building  and  endowing  in 

I  ^bey  at  Caen,  an<l  an  hospital  for  the  Uind.     Ijinfranc.  afterwards  the 

'    nielnrated  archbishop  of  Canietbury,  but  at  that  time  an  obscure  iiidivi- 

dudi  to  whom  William  had  eiiended  bis  prolection  and  patronage,  was 

ininiat«l  with  this  negotiation,  which  he  conducted  with  such  ability  u 

to  secnro  lo  himself  the  favour  and  confidence  both  of  William  and  Ha- 

lildo,  by  whom  he  was,  in  after  years,  advanced  to  the  office  of  tutor  lo 

their  royal  ol6pring,  and  finally  lo  the  highest  ecclesias ileal  rank  and 

William  and  Matilda  cheerfullv*  submiited  to  the  conditions  on  which 
dio  dispensation  for  their  marriage  had  been  granted,  by  founding  the 
lister  abbeys  of  St.  Stephen  and  the  Holy  Trinity.  That  of  Sl  Stephen 
was  baili  and  endowed  by  Wdliam,  for  a  fmiemiiy  of  monk^.  of  which 
he  made  Lanfnine  abbot  Matilda  founded  and  endowed  that  of  the 
Holy  Triuiiy.  for  nuns.  It  should  appear  that  ihe  ground  on  which 
these  holy  edifices  were  erected  was  not  »ery  honestly  obtained,  as  we 
flbtll  have  occasion  to  show  hereafter.' 

All  thai  Mauger  gained  by  his  impertinent  interference  with  Ihe  mUri- 

I  nonial  coiMwrm  of  his  royal  nephew,  was  the  exposure  and  punishment 

I'llf  his  awn  evil  dec<ls ;  for  William,  highly  exasperated  at  the  archbi- 

1  ^op's  attempt  to  separate  him  from  his  br)<le,  retaliated  upon  him,  by 

P  nlliiig  a  convocation  of  all  Ihc  bishops  of  Normandy,  at  Ltsieu,  before 

whom  he  caused  Mauger  lo  be  accused  of  several  ctimes  and  misde- 

iMwiora,  enpectally  of  selling  consecrated  chalices,  and  other  aniclea  of 

ohurch-plaie,  to  supply  his  luxury.'    Mauger,  bebg  convicied  of  theM 

1  nal practices,  was  deposed  from  his  office,  and  Haurilliers  was  elected  io 

^his  room.* 

All  tilings  being  now  tranquilly  settled,  William  proceeded  lo  build  a 

P  royal  palace  within  the  precincts  of  Sl.  Stephen's  abbey,  for  his  own  nsi- 

r  dmctt  and  that  of  his  young  duchess.    The  greai  hall,  or  council-cham- 

liRT,  of  this  palace,  was  one  of  ilie  moel  uiagniliceul  apartments  at  that 

lime  in  Europe. 

'Cliioiiicle  of  NonnnnJy.     Ilapiti. 

*ClirmiJ''la  of  fioiniaiuly,  Slaiitda  wm  ilia  ttinnilJauKliiec  orElefinoi  of  Kot- 
nMtuljr.  Wllliara'i  aunt.  *}iliiHitAiDoini.     Itolniiburr.  *RH{nn. 

■This  couiuilwB*  bald  uLialM, anno  IQS3.    Vida  bit  Hvrli  NKholM't  Ctuv 


MATILDA     OF    FLANDERS. 


-^*j 


Matilda,  inheriting  from  her  father,  Baldwin  of  Lille,  a  tisto  for  arclii- 
lecture,  took  great  delight  in  the  progress  of  these  stately  buildings ;  and 
her  foundations  are  among  the  most  splendid  relics  of  Norman  grandeur. 
She  was  a  munificent  patroness  of  the  arts,  and  afforded  great  encourage- 
ment to  men  of  learning,  co-operating  with  her  husband  most  actively 
in  all  his  paternal  plans  for  the  advancement  of  trade,  the  extension  of 
commerce,  and  the  general  happiness  of  the  people  committed  to  their 
charge.  In  this  they  were  most  successful.  Normandy,  so  long  torn 
with  contending  Actions,  and  impoverished  with  foreign  war&re,  began 
to  taste  the  blessings  of  repose ;  and,  under  the  wise  government  of  her 
energetic  sovereign,  soon  experienced  the  good  effects  of  his  enlightened 
policy. 

At  his  own  expense  William  built  the  first  pier  that  ever  was  con- 
structed, at  Cherbourg.*  He  superintended  the  building  and  organization 
of  fleets,  traced  out  commodious  harbours  for  his  ships,  and  in  a  com- 
paratively short  time  rendered  Normandy  a  very  considerable  maritime 
power,  and  finally  the  mistress  of  the  Channel. 

3Ieantime  the  domestic  happiness  which  William  enjoyed  with  his 
beautiful  ducliess  appeara  to  have  been  very  great  All  historians  have 
agreed  that  they  were  a  most  attached  pair,  and  that,  whatever  might 
have  been  the  previous  state  of  Matilda's  aflections,  they  were  unaltera- 
bly and  fiiithfuily  fixed  upon  her  cousin  from  the  hour  she  became  his 
wife ;  and  with  reason,  for  William  was  the  most  devoted  of  husbands, 
and  always  allowed  her  to  take  the  ascendant  in  the  matrimonial  scale. 
The  confidence  he  reposed  in  her  was  unbounded,  and  very  shortly  after 
their  marriage  he  intrusted  the  reins  of  government  to  her  care,  wlien  he 
crossed  over  to  England,  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  friend  and  kinsman,  Ed- 
ward the  Confessor.  By  his  marriage  with  Matilda,  William  had  strength- 
ened this  connexion,  and  added  a  nearer  tie  of  relationship  to  the  English 
sovereign ;  and  he  was,  perhaps,  willing  to  remind  the  childless  monarch 
of  that  circumstance ;  and  to  recall  to  his  memory  the  hospitality  he  had 
received,  both  at  the  Flemish  and  the  Norman  courts,  during  tlie  period 
of  his  advenity.' 

Edward  ^received  him  very  honourably,  and  presented  him  with 
hawks  and  hounds,  and  many  other  fair  and  goodly  gif^,^'  says  Wace, 
*^  as  tokens  of  his  love.''  Duke  William  had  chosen  his  time  for  this 
visit  during  the  exile  of  Godwin  and  his  sons ;  and  it  is  probable  that 
he  availed  himself  of  their  absence,  to  obtain  from  Edward  the  promise 
of  being  adopted  as  his  successor  to  the  English  tlirone,  and  also  to 
commence  a  series  of  political  intrigues,  connected  witli  that  miglity 
project,  which,  fourteen  years  aflerward:!^,  he  carricil  into  eflect 

In  purauing  the  broad  stream  of  history,  how  few  writers  take  the 
trouble  of  tracing  the  under-currents  by  which  the  tide  of  events  is  influ- 
enced !  The  marriage  of  Tostig,  the  son  of  Godwin,  witli  Judith  of 
Flanders,  the  sister  of  Matilda,  wife  of  William  of  Normandy,  was  one 
great  cause  of  the  treacherous  and  unnatural  conduct,  on  his  part,  which 
decided  the  fitte  of  Harold,  and  transferred  the  crown  o{  England  to  the 

'  Henderton^t  Life  0/  ViiDimm  tiie  Conqueror.  *  Higden  ¥o\Yc\iTOtvviQ\\ 


witli 

Willie 
princi 


MATILDA    OF    FLA.tDESS.  ^^B 

Nonnan  line.  During  ihe  period  of  their  exile  from  England.  OcNJiriR 
and  liis  famtiy  HDUptil  refuge  ai  ihe  coun  of  ihe  eaii  of  Flanders,  To»- 
tig>  fallier-iit-kw,  front  ivtioiu  lliey  received  friendly  and  hospitable  en- 
lenaintnent.  and  were  treated  by  the  duke  and  duchess  of  Nornisndy 
with  all  the  macka  of  friendship  that  might  reasonably  be  expected,  in 
'  I  of  the  family  connexion  to  which  we  have  alluded.' 
ilhs  after  tier  marriu^,  Matilda  ^ve  binh  to  a  sun,  whom 
Williaiti  named  Knberi,  after  his  TuiIrt,  tliinking  that  the  name  of  a 
e,  whose  memory  whs  dear  to  Normandy,  would  ensure  the  popu- 
of  his  heir.*  The  happineit*  of  the  royal  pair  was  greatly  increased 
by  liiis  event.  In  tact,  nothing  could  exceed  tlie  terms  of  afTeciion  and 
eonHilrnce  in  which  they  livuil.  They  were  at  that  period  reckonetl  the 
liandsomest  anil  most  tenderly  unileil  couple  in  Europe-  The  line  na- 
.lural  talents  of  both  had  been  improved,  by  a  degree  of  mental  culliva- 
lion  ver>-  unusual  in  lliat  age;  and  there  was  a  similarity  in  their  lastea 
id  piirettits,  which  rendered  their  compaoionehip  delightful  to  each 
r  in  private  hours,  and  gave  to  all  their  public  acta  thai  graceful  uiia- 
ity,  which  could  not  foil  of  producing  the  happiest  eSecia  oa  tlie 
linda  of  their  subjects. 

The  binh  of  Robert  was  followed  in  quick  succession  fay  that  of 
Rieli&rd.  VV  ill  tarn-It  ufus,  Cecilia,  Agatha,  Constance,  Adela,  Adelaide,  and 
Gundred.  During  several  years  of  peace  and  national  prosperity,  Ma- 
lilila  and  her  husband  employed  ihemsdves  in  superintending  the  educ»- 
lion  of  their  lovely  and  numerous  family ;  sevci^  of  whom,  according 
i«o  the  report  of  contemporary  clirouicles,  were  childreu  of  great  pro- 
nise.* 

very  remarkable  event  occurs  in  the  records  of  Matilda's  coart, 
the  arrival  of  Harold  in  the  year  10G5.  Harold,  having  undertaken 
lyage  to  Normandy  in  an  open  fishing-boat,  woe  driven  by  stress  of 
thor  into  the  river  3Iaye,  in  the  territories  of  the  earl  of  Poulh' 
vhom,  with  the  intention  of  extorting  a  large  ransom,  he  « 
ioiiDured  in  the  dungeons  of  Beaurain. 

'he  duke  of  Normandy,  however,  demanded  the  illuBirioua  a 
the  enrl  of  Honthieu,  understanding  thai  Harold's  brother  was  b 
!o  ilie  duchess  of  Normandy's  sister,  thought  it  most  prudent  to 
his  prey  lo  the  family  connexion  by  whom  it  was  claimed. 
Harold  was  treated  with  apparent  friendship  by  William  and  itiaiiltlib 
even  olicred  to  bestow  one  of  tlieir  daughters  upon  liiin  i 
—a  young  lady  whose  age  did  not  exceed  seven  years ;  and  U 
il  permitted  himself  to  be  aflianced,  iliough  without  any  iotei 
keeping  hii  plight, 
"'illiam  llien  confiiled  lo  his  reluctant  guest  the  tale  of  his 

by  EMw&rd  the  Confessor,  far  his  successor,  and  proceeded  to  cxtorl 
him  a  solemn  oath,  to  render  him  all  the  assistance  in  his  power,  in 
lerance  i^  his  designs  on  the  crown  of  England.* 
Harold,  on  his  return  to  England,  came  to  an  open  rupture  with  liia 


'ouihi^^ 

udent  to 

i. 
Maiilth. 

JTtiSjta 

*-n  adB^^ 


'W*.! 


•Msliiisbury.     Wnce, 

*  Wace.    Malnubutr.    TUeii|l 


MATILDA    OF    FLAHDBRS.  37 

brother  Toetig.  Probably  he  had,  during  his  late  visit  to  Normandy, 
discovered  how  entirely  the  latter  was  in  the  interest  of  his  Flemish 
wife^s  connexions.  Tostig  then  fled,  with  his  wife  and  children,  to  the 
court  of  his  iather-in-Iaw,  the  earl  of  Flanders,  and  devoted  himself 
entirely  to  the  cause  of  William  of  Normandy. 

At  this  perilous  crisis,  when  so  dark  a  storm  was  slowly  but  surely 
gathering  over  England,  a  woful  deterioration  had  taken  place  in  the 
national  character  of  the  people,  especially  among  the  higher  classes, 
who  had  given  wny  to  every  species  of  luxury  and  licentiousness.  Wil- 
liam of  Malmsbury  draws  the  following  quaint  picture  of  their  manners 
and  proceedings  at  this  period.  ^Englishmen,"  says  he,  ^^had  then 
transformed  themselves  into  the  strange  manners  of  the  French,  not  only 
in  their  speech  and  behaviour,  but  in  their  deeds  and  characters.  Their 
fiuhioQ  in  dress  was  to  go  fantastically  appointed,  with  garments  short- 
ened to  the  knee.  Their  heads  shorn,  and  their  beards  shaven  all  but 
the  upper  lip,  on  which  they  wore  long  moustaches.  Their  arms  they 
load^  with  massive  bracelets  of  gold,  carrying  withal  pictm^d  marks 
upon  their  skins,  pounced  in  with  divers  colours ;"  by  which  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  Anglo-Saxons  had  adopted  the  barbarous  practice  of  tat« 
tooing  their  persons,  like  the  rude  aborigines  of  the  island  eleven  centu- 
ries previous.  ^  They  were,"  continues  our  author,  ^  accustomed  to  eat 
to  repletion,  and  to  drink  to  excess ;  while  the  clergy  wholly  addicted 
themselves  to  light  and  trivial  literature,  and  could  scarcely  read  their 
own  breviaries."  In  a  word,  they  had,  according  to  the  witness  of  their 
own  chronicles,  arrived  at  that  pass  of  sensuality  and  folly  which  is 
eenerally  supposed  to  provoke  a  national  visitation,  in  the  shape  of  pesti- 
lence or  the  sword. 

^  The  Normans  of  that  period,"  says  Malmsbury,  ^  were  proudly  ap- 
parelled, delicate  in  their  food,  but  not  gluttonous ;  a  race  inured  to  war, 
which  diey  could  scarcely  live  without ;  fierce  in  rushing  upon  the  foe, 
and,  when  unequal  in  force,  ready  to  use  stratagem  or  bribery  to  gain 
their  ends.  They  live  in  large  houses  with  economy.  They  wish  to 
rival  their  superiors.  They  envy  their  equals,  and  plunder  their  inferiors, 
but  not  unfrequently  intermarry  with  their  vassals." 

Such  were  the  general  characteristics  of  the  men  whom  William  had 
rendered  veterans  in  the  art  of  war,  and,  both  by  precept  and  example, 
stimulated  to  habits  of  frugality,  temperance,  an^  self-control.  A  mighty 
sovereign  and  a  mighty  people,'  possessing  within  themselves  the  ele- 
ments of  every  requisite  that  might  ensure  the  success  of  an  undertaking 
which,  by  every  other  nation  in  Europe,  must  have  been  considered  as 
little  short  of  madness. 

When  the  intelligence  of  king  Edward^s  death,  coupled  with  the  news 
of  Harold's  assumption  of  the  regal  dignity,  reached  the  court  of  Nor- 
mandy, William  was  struck  speechless  with  indignation  and  surprise,  and 
is  said  to  have  unconsciously  tied  and  untied  the  rich  cordon  that  fast- 
ened his  cloak,  several  times,  in  the  first  tumults  of  his  agitation  and 
anger.'     He  then  gave  vent  to  his  wrath,  in  fierce  animadversions  on 

>  W.  Malrasbur/.  *  Wace. 


I 


I 


I 


MATILDA    or    rLAKDEBS. 

Ilkrold's  broken  fiuih,  in  cousing  himsoir  to  be  crowned  king  "f  Eng- 
land,  in  defiance  of  Ihe  eolemn  oath  he  had  swoni  to  him,  lo  support  lui 
cl&ima. 

Willtain  alao  complained  of  tlie  aSront  that  bad  been  offered  to  hti 
daughter  by  the  faithlesB  Saxon,  who,  resanlleBs  of  his  conliafl  io  the 
litilo  Norman  princess,  just  before  king  Edward's  death,  strengthened  bis 
interest  with  the  English  nobles,  by  mnrrying  Algiiha,  sister  to  the  pow- 
erful FDrls  Morcar  and  Edwin,  and  widow  lo  GritTith.  prince  of  Wales. 
This  circumstance  is  mentioned  with  great  bitterness  in  all  William's 
pruclamationa  and  reproachful  raesEages  lo  Harold,  and  appears  lo  ha»B 
been  considered  by  him  to  the  full  as  great  a  villany  as  the  assuiuption 
of  the  crown  <^  Einglsnd.  Some  of  the  historians  who  wrote  neat  that 
period  say,  thai  the  lady  Adeliza,  the  affianced  bride  of  Harold,  was  dead 
■I  that  time;  but  if  so,  William  could  bare  had  no  preteit  for  upbniid- 
ine  him  with  the  insult  be  had  oflered  to  his  &mily,  by  entermg  itilo 
mother  matrimonial  alliance.' 

When  William  first  made  known  to  hifi  Norman  peers  hLi  positive  in> 
tentioa  of  asserting,  by  force  of  arms,  his  claims  to  the  crown  of  Eng- 
land, on  the  pica  of  Eidward  the  Confessor's  verbal  adoption  of  himself 
as  successor  to  that  realm,  there  were  stormy  debates  among  them  oD 
tlie  subject.  They  were  then  assembled  in  the  hall  of  Lillebon,  where 
they  remained  long  in  council,  but  chieQy  employed  in  complaining  to 
one  another  of  tlie  warlike  temper  of  their  lord.  There  were,  however, 
creat  diDerences  of  o|Huion  among  them,  and  they  separated  tjiemsel»e« 
mio  several  distinct  groups,  because  many  diose  to  speak  at  once,  and 
no  one  cimld  obtain  the  attention  of  the  whole  assembly,  but  harangued 
as  many  hearers  aa  could  be  prevailed  on  to  linen  to  him.  The  ma- 
jority were  opposed  to  the  idea  of  ilie  expedition  to  England,  and  s»iil 
they  had  already  been  grievously  taxed  to  support  the  duke's  foreign 
wars,  and  observed,  lliat  ^  ibey  were  not  only  poor,  but  in  debt ;"  wlule 
others  were  no  less  veliement  in  advocating  their  sovereign's  projecL,  and 
*pake  "  of  the  propriety  of  contributing  ships  and  men,  and  crossing  the 
*n  willi  him."  &>me  said,  "  they  would,"  others, "  that  titey  would 
not;"  and  at  last  the  contention  among  them  became  so  fierce,  that  Fits- 
Osbom.  of  Breteul,  sumamed  the  Proud  Spirit,  stood  forth  and  baiuigued 
the  malcontent  portion  of  the  assembly  in  these  words  : — . 

"  Why  should  you  go  on  wrangling  with  your  natural  lord,  who  Mtkt 
to  gain  honour  ?  You  owe  him  service  for  your  fiefs,  and  you  ou^l  M 
Tender  it  with  all  readiness.  Instead  of  waiting  for  him  to  entreat  yOQ. 
you  ought  to  haxten  to  him.  and  offer  your  assistance,  that  he  may  Hot 
iiereafler  complain  that  his  design  has  failed  through  your  delays." 

"  Sir,''  replied  they,  "■  we  fear  the  sea,  and  we  are  not  bound  to  tent 
beyond  it;  but  do  you  speak  to  the  duke  for  us.  for  we  do  nut  seem  to 
knnw  our  own  minds,  and  we  think  you  will  decide  heller  for  us  tlwa 
we,  cnn  Ao  fbr  ourselves."' 

Pia-Osbom,  thas  empowered  to  act  as  iheir  deputy,  went  to  the  dnk* 

I  Wace'i  Clitoaxlei  of  llie  Dnlcei  of  FtorniaiiiJr.  *  Wairo. 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDBRf.  29 

at  their  head,  and  in  their  names  made  him  the  moat  unconditional  prof- 
fers of  their  assistance  and  co-operation. 

^  Behold,"  said  Fitz-Osbom,  ^  the  loving  loyalty  of  your  lieges,  my 
lord,  and  their  zeal  for  your  senice.  They  will  pass  with  you  over 
sea,  and  double  their  accustomed  senriee.  He  who  is  bound  to  furnish 
twenty  knights,  will  bring  forty ;  he  who  should  serve  you  with  thirty 
will  now  serve  yon  with  sixty ;  and  he  who  owes  one  hundred,  will 
cheerfoUy  pay  two  hundred.'  For  myvelf,  I  will,  in  good  love  to  my 
sovereign,  in  his  need,  contribute  sixty  well-appointed  ships  chaiged 
with  fighting  men."  Here  the  dissentient  barons  interrupted  him  with 
a  clamour  of  disapprobation,  exclaiming,  ^  That  he  might  give  as  much 
as  he  {leased  himself,  but  they  had  never  empowered  him  to  promise 
such  unheard-of  aids  for  them ;"  and  they  would  submit  to  no  such 
exactions  from  their  sovereign,  since  if  they  once  performed  double  ser- 
vice, it  would  henceforth  be  demanded  of  them  as  a  right 

^  In  short,"  continues  the  lively  chronicler,'  ^  they  raised  such  an 
uproar,  that  no  one  could  hear  another  speak — no  one  could  either 
listen  to  reason,  or  render  it  for  himself.  Then  the  duke,  being  greatly 
peq>lexed  with  the  noise,  withdrew,  and  sending  for  the  barons  one  by 
one,  exerted  all  his  powers  of  persuasion,  to  induce  them  to  accede  to 
his  wishes,  promising  ^  to  reward  them  richly  with  Saxon  spoils  for  the 
assistance  he  now  required  at  their  hands ;  and  if  they  felt  disposed  to 
make  good  Fitz-Osbom^s  ofler  of  double  service  at  that  time,  he  should 
receive  it  as  a  proof  of  their  loyal  afiection,  and  never  think  of  demand- 
ing it  as  a  right  on  any  foture  occasion.' " 

The  nobles,  on  this  conciliatory  address,  were  pacified ;  and  feeling 
that  it  was  a  much  easier  thing  to  maintain  their  opposition  to  their 
sovereign's  wishes  in  the  councS  than  in  the  presence-chamber,  began 
to  assume  a  difierent  tone,  and  even  to  express  their  willingness  to  oblige 
him  as  far  as  it  lay  in  their  power.' 

William  next  invited  his  neighbours,  the  Bretons,  the  Angevins,  and 
men  of  Boulogne,  to  join  his  l»nners,  bribing  them  with  promises  of 
good  pay,  and  a  share  in  the  spoils  of  merrie  England.  He  even  pro- 
posed to  take  the  king  of  France  into  the  alliance,  o&ring,  if  he  would 
assist  him  with  the  quota  of  money,  men,  and  ships,  which  he  required, 
to  own  him  for  the  guzeram^  or  paramount  lord  of  England,  as  well  as 
Normandy,  and  to  render  him  a  liegeman's  homage  for  that  island,  as 
well  as  for  his  continental  dominions.  Philip  treated  the  idea  of  Wil- 
liam's annexing  England  to  Normandy,  as  an  extravagant  chimera,^  and 
asked  him,  ^  who  would  take  care  of  his  duchy  while  he  was  running 
aAer  a  kingdom  ?"  To  this  sarcastic  query,  William  replied,  ^  That  is 
a  care  that  shall  not  need  to  trouble  our  neighbours ;  by  the  gnce  of 
God  we  are  blessed  with  a  prudent  wife  and  loving  subjects,  who  will 
keep  our  border  securely  during  our  absence."' 

William  entreated  the  young  count  Baldwin  of  Flanders,  the  brother 
of  his  duchess,  to  accompany  him  as  a  friendly  ally;  but  the  wily 
Fleming,  with  whom  the  fiunily  connexion  seems  to  have  had  but  little 

^  Wace'9  Chronicle  of  Normandy.         *Ibid.        'Ibid.         Ubid.        *\XaOu 
8* 


UATILDA    OF    FLA5DERS. 

■wfli^ht,  replied  by  asking  Willumi :  ^  What  share  of  England  he  intendKl 

to  beslow  on  him  by  w«y  of  recompense  ?"  ' 

The  duke,  surprised  nl  this  demand,  told  his  brother-in-law,  "Thu 
-  he  could  not  satisfy  him  on  that  point  till  he  had  consuliol  with  bn 
■  bamns  on  ths  suhjecl ;"  but  instead  of  naming  the  matter  to  them,  be 

tanl(  a  pi«co  of  fair  parchment,  and  having  folded  it  in  the  form  €>f  * 
liciter,  W  Mtpencribed  it  to  count  Biddwin  of  Flanders,  and  sealed  ii 

wUh  the  diical  seal,  and  wrote  the  following  distich  on  the  label  lh« 

■arrooDded  the  scroll — 


which  19  to  say, ''  Brother-in-law.  I  give  you  such  a  share  of  England 
as  you  shall  liiid  within  thia  letter*' 

ilc  sent  the  letter  to  the  youne  count  by  a  shrewd- willed  page,  who 
was  much  in  his  confidence.  When  Baldwin  had  read  this  prnmiiiog 
endorsement,  he  broke  the  se.i1,  lull  of  expecuttion.  but  (iniling  the 
parchment  blank,  he  showed  it  to  the  bearer;  and  asked  what  was  the 
duke*B  meauing. 

"  Xought  is  written  here,"  replied  the  messenger,  "  and  nought  sh»h 
thou  receive,  therefore  look  for  nothing.  The  honour  that  the  duke 
seeks  will  be  fur  die  advantage  of  your  sister  and  her  children,  and  lh«it 
ffrcatncss  will  be  the  advancement  of  yonrself.  and  the  benefit  will  ba 
iflt  by  your  country ;  but  if  you  refuse  your  aid,  then,  with  the  bleuipg 
of  Gud,  iny  lord  will  conquer  England  without  your  help,"' 

Bui  tliough  William  ventured,  by  means  of  this  sarcastic  device,  to 
leprove  the  selfish  feelings  manifested  by  his  broiher-in-law,  he  was  liin 
to  subscribe  to  the  only  terms  on  whirh  the  aid  of  Aluiilda's  ftthn ' 
,  could  be  obtained,  which  was  by  securing  to  him  and  his  succeason  I 
periK-tual  pension  of  300  marks  of  silver  annually,  in  the  event  of  hit 
lucceediiig  in  esiablishiiig  himself  as  king  of  England.*  Accordiiw  to 
'  "the  Flemish  historians,  this  pension  waa  actually  paid  during  the  life  of 
'  Baldwin  V.  and  liis  sou  Baldwin  VI.,  but  aAerwards  discontinued.  Ilii 
1  that  Matilda's  family  connexions  rendered  the  most  iinporunt 
a  William  in  the  conquest  of  England,  and  her  couDtiymcn 
'  were  nmong  his  bravest  auxiliaiies.*  The  earl  of  Flanders  was,  in  bet. 
the  lir»t  person  to  commence  hostilities  against  Harold,  by  fumishiof 
,tiie  traitor  Tostig  with  ships,  and  a  military  force,  (o  make  a  descent  a» 
England. 

Tostig  executed  his  mission  more  like  a  pirate-brigand  than  an  ace»- 
dfled  leader.  The  brave  earls  Morcar  and  Edwin  drove  him  into  Scot- 
land, whence  he  passed  into  Norway,  where  he  succeeded  in  persiMiUiig 

France,  vol.  iu.  p.  91 
I  DaMwin  &rl  of  FlanJers  (iirnuhed  Toiug  wlih  aiiiy  ships.  "  "  '  — 
<    Saxan  Aiiuati. 

*  Tiadilion  makes  the  binoiu  Robin  Howl  a  dsKiendanl  of  Matilda' 
'    (iilbnrt  4e  Gint,  who  utenilcd  \be  Conqaetor  lo  EnglanJ.     Hitl.  of  S 


KTILDA    OF    PtAXDESB. 


king  Harikgcr  In  invndc  Fngland  at  one  point,  simuluineoiisly  with  W^ 
lum  nf  Nunnnndy'a  nttnrk  in  niinilier  qunrier  of  the  islund.' 

The  minds  of  the  people  of  Cngland  in  geiieral  were,  at  this  moment- 
mis  cri«i^  labouriiie  uiuler  a  painrul  depression,  occasioned  by  the 
*(ipatnuic«  of  the  splendid  ihree-iailed  comrt,  which  became  visible  In 
(bcir  horixon  at  the  commencement  of  the  memorable  year  lOfift,  a  few 
day*  before  ihc  dtath  of  king  Etiwaril.  The  unsettled  smte  of  ihp  suc- 
niMion,  and  the  siiperstitious  spirit  of  tlie  age,  inclined  all  classes  of 
prrwws  to  regnrtl,  with  ominous  feelings  of  dismay,  any  phenomtnicm 
which  eoutd  be.  eonMriied  iiilo  a  porleiU  of  evil :  moreover  the  aalrolo- 
gns  who  had  furvtold  the  approach  of  this  comet  had  thought  proper  to 
tnnnunce  their  piediction  in  an  oracular  I^iin  distich,  of  which  ihe  fol- 
lowing rude  couplet  is  a  literal  transluiion: — 


1 


^BkJtbont  liiu  lioic,"  says  Alalmsbury,  "a  comet  or  aiar,  denoting  m 

^fff  "Ti  <t  change  in  kingdoms,  appeared  trailing  its  extended  and  fleiy 

^Sin  alon^  the  sky;  wherefore  a  certain  monk  of  our  monastery  namM 

Dnicr.  howing  down  with  terror  when  the  brii^ht  star  first  became  vist* 

Up  [u  hii  eye.  proplietically  eiclaimed,  'Thou  art  come!  a  matter  of 

L"i'.ii  kimfMtniion  lo  many  a  mother  art  thou  come.     I  have  seen  thm 

"'  ;  but  now  I  behold  thee  in  thy  terrors,  threatening  deatrue^ 

-  I'ounlry.'"' 

A  li^m  we  may  almost  regard  in  Ihe  light  of  a  contemporary 
: .  in  slill  (juninler  lansfiingc  describes  the  appearance  of  this 
■■■■r.m,  and  the  impression  it  made  on  the  un philosophical  star-gazers 
III  Uic  elifventli  cr^ntury.  ^  Tliis  year  a  great  star  appeared  in  the  bet- 
'"111.  >hintn|;  for  foiiriren  daya,  with  three  lonj^  rays  strcHmiiii;  lownrda 
\'m  Hiuih.  Sarh  a  alar  as  b  wont  to  be  seen  when  a  kingdom  is  about 
'f  riiange  i!«  ruler.  I  liai-e  seen  men  who  saw  ii — men  who  were  of 
"ill  ase  at  the  time  of  ita  appearance,  and  who  lived  many  years  al\er- 

T)ie  descriptions  which  1  have  just  quoted,  from  the  pen  of  the  Noi^ 
MB  port  and  the  monastic  clironicler,  fall  far  shorl  of  the  inarvellou»r 
Dm  of  Matilda'n  drimeation  of  this  comet,  in  the  Bayeux  tapestry, 
«1itn  th«t  royal  nctxlle  has  represented  it  of  dimensions  that  might  w«l 
bre  jitflificd  lite  alann  of  the  terror-stricken  group  of  Saaon  prmceS|. 
|rints>  sail  ladies,  who  appear  to  be  rualiing  out  ol  their  pi^y  dweU* 
mgi,  and  puinting  to  ii  with  unequivocal  signs  of  horror ;  for,  indepen* 
Mtlf  of  the  fact  that  it  looks  near  enough  to  singe  all  their  noses,  it 
^'•aii  inevitably  have  whisked  the  world  and  all  its  sister  planets  out 
'  their  orbits,  if  it  had  lieen  of  a  hundredih  part  proportionable  to  the 
''■^niiude  there  porirayeil-'  Some  allowance,  however,  ought  to  be 
riuJc  for  the  pjuggemtion  of  feminine  reminiscences,  of  an  object  which 
>r  can  »carcely  suppose  to  have  been  transferred  to  the  embroidered 

Saxon  Anaali.  'Hendetson.  *MBlni9butr. 


I 


I 
I 


MATILDA     OF     FLANDERS. 

chroniclfl  dT  the  conquest  o(  England,  lill  after  ihe  triumphant  teniiii»- 
don  of  Willmm  of  Xonuanily'a  enterprise  affonJed  ills  queen-duchess  «o 
jnngiulicoui  a  subJM^i.  for  iho  employmeDt  of  the  skill  sad  ingeuuiij  of 
beneir  and  the  ladie*  of  tier  court,  in  reconliug  his  ftchievemenis  on 
CanTass  by  dint  of  needlework.  But,  on  the  eve  of  ihii  adventuroui 
expfilition,  we  may  oHlurally  conclude,  that  Matilda's  time  aud  thought* 
were  more  importantly  occupied  than  in  the  labours  of  the  loom,  or  the 
Ikbticaiion  of  wonted  pictures;  when,  in  addition  to  all  her  feara  uid 
.anxieties  in  parting  with  her  lord,  we  doubt  not  but  she  had,  ttt  least,  na 
nucli  trouble  in  reconciling  tlie  Norman  ladies  to  tlie  absence  of  ib«ir 
.huabandij  and  lovers,'  as  ibe  duke  bad  to  jirevoil  on  these  his  valiant 
gaeiu  to  accompany  him  on  an  expedition  so  full  of  peril  to  all  putin 
concerned  in  it. 

rreviously  to  his  departure  to  join  his  ships  and  forcea  assembled  U 
the  port  of  St.  Vatleri,  William  solemnly  invested  Matilda  with  Ow 
regency  of  Normandy,  and  entreated,  "  that  he  and  his  companions  in 
•rras  might  have  the  benefit  of  her  prayers,  and  the  prayerv  of  her 
ladies,  for  the  succpes  of  their  expediiion."  He  appointed  for  hercomv- 
«il  some  of  the  wisest  and  most  experienced  men  among  the  prelatM 
and  elder  nobles  of  Normandy.'  The  most  celebrated  of  tliese,  for 
courage,  ability,  and  wisdom,  was  Ro^r  de  Beaumont,  and  bv  him  Wil- 
liam recommended  the  duchess  to  be  advised  in  all  matters  ^  domestic 
policy.  He  also  associated  with  the  duchess,  in  the  regency,  ihrir 
eldest  Bon,  Robert,  and  this  youth,  who  had  just  completed  hie  tliirteenih 
year,  was  nominally  the  military  chief  of  Normandy  during  the  abaetue 
of  his  sire. 

The  invasion  of  England  was  by  no  means  a  popnlar  measure  wilh 
any  class  of  William's  auhjerts;  end  during  the  time  that  his  armameni 
remained  wind-boimd  at  St.  Valleri,  the  common  soldier?  began  to  mnr- 
mtir  in  their  tents.  ^  The  man  must  he  mad,"  they  said,  "  to  persist  in 
going  to  auiijugnte  a  foreign  country,  since  Ood,  who  withhetd  the  wind, 
upposed  him  \  that  his  lather,  who  was  sumamed  Robert  le  D'labb-, 
purposed  something  of  the  kind,  and  was  in  like  manner  frustrated! 
and  tliai  It  was  the  fate  of  that  lamily  to  aspire  to  things  beyond  ihem, 

d  to  find  God  llieir  adversary .'" 

When  the  duke  beard  of  these  disheartening  reports,  he  calicij  a 
council  of  his  chiefs,  at  which  it  was  agreed  that  the  body  of  St.  Valleri 
ihonld  be  brought  forth,  to  receive  the  offerings  and  tows  of  those  who 
ahould  feel  (ii8|>osed  to  implore  his  intercession  for  a  favourable  wind.* 
Thus  artfully  did  he,  instead  of  interposing  the  authority  of  a  9Vt- 
*eign,  and  a  military  leader,  to  punish  the  language  of  sedition  and 
mutiny  among  his  troops,  oppose  superstition  to  superstition,  to  amtiae 
tlie  ihort-«ighi»d  insirmuenis  of  hts  ambition.  The  bones  of  the  pawai 
aaint  of  the  port  were  accordingly  brought  forth,  wilh  great  eolcmmty, 
an*)  exposnl  in  their  shrine,  on  the  green  turf,  beneath  the  canopy  m 
heavFiii  for  the  double  purpose  of  receiving  the  pmyers  of  the  pious  at ' 

■Waw.  WilllaiDor  Prttou.     Wace.    MBlmiboiy. 


MATILDA    OF    FLAHDSKf.  33 

the  contributions  of  the  charitable.'  The  Nonnan  chroniclers  affirm 
th&t  the  shrine  was  half-buried  in  the  heaps  of  gold,  silver,  and  precious 
things  which  were  showered  upon  it  by  the  crowds  of  votaries  who 
came  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  saint  Thus  were  the  malcontent  Nor- 
Bians  amused  till  the  wind  changed. 

In  the  meantime  William  was  agreeably  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  his 
duchess  at  the  port,  in  a  splendid  vessel  of  war,  called  the  Mora,'  which 
•he  had  caused  to  be  built  unknown  to  him,  and  adorned  in  the  most 
royal  style  of  magnificence,  for  his  acceptance.  The  effigy  of  their 
youngest  son  (William),  formed  of  gilded  bronze,  some  writers  say  of 
ipld,  was  placed  at  the  prow  of  this  vessel,  with  his  hce  turned  towards 
England,  holding  a  trumpet  to  his  lips  with  one  hand,  and  bearing  in 
iie  other  a  bow,  with  the  arrow  aimed  at  England.'  It  seemed  as  if  the 
vind  had  only  delayed  in  order  to  enable  Matilda  to  offer  this  gratifying 
nd  auspicious  gift  to  her  departing  lord  ;  for  scarcely  had  the  acclama- 
tions with  which  it  was  greeted  by  the  admiring  host  died  away,  when 
the  long-desired  breeze  sprang  up,  ^  and  a  joyful  clamour,'^  says  Malms- 
bury,  ^  then  arising,  summoned  every  one  to  the  ships.''  The  duke 
himself,  first  launching  from  the  continent  into  the  deep,  led  the  wny 
in  the  Mora,  which,  by  day,  was  distinguished  by  a  blood-red  flag,^  and, 
as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  carried  a  light  at  the  mast-head,  as  a  beacon  to 
nide  the  other  ships.  The  first  night  the  royal  leader  so  far  outsailed 
his  followers,  that  when  morning  dawned,  the  Mora  was  in  the  mid-seas 
alone,  without  a  single  sail  of  her  convoy  in  sight,  though  these  were  a 
thousand  in  number.  Somewhat  disturbed  at  this  circumstance,  William 
ordered  the  master  of  the  Mora  to  go  to  tlie  topmast  and  look  out,  and 
bring  him  word  what  he  had  seen. 

The  reply  was,  **  Nothing  but  sea  and  sky."  "  Go  up  again,"  said 
the  duke,  ^  and  look  out."  The  man  cried  out,  ^  That  he  saw  four 
q^ks  in  the  distance,  like  the  sails  of  ships." 

^  Look  once  again,"  cried  William ;  then  the  master  exclaimed,  ^  I 
see  a  forest  of  tall  masts  and  a  press  of  sails  bearing  gallantly  towards 

U8."» 

Rough  weather  occurred  during  the  voyage,  but  it  is  remarkable  that, 
out  of  so  numerous  a  fleet,  only  two  vessels  were  lost  In  one  of  these 
was  a  noted  astrologer,  who  had  taken  upon  himself  to  predict  that  the 
expedition  would  be  entirely  successful,  for  that  Harold  would  resign 
England  to  the  duke  without  a  battle.  William  neither  believed  in 
omens  nor  encouraged  fortune-telling,  and  when  he  heard  the  catastrophe 
of  the  unfortunate  soothsayer,  who  had  thought  proper  to  join  himself 
to  the  armament,  shrewdly  observed,  ^  Little  could  he  have  known  of 
the  fiite  of  others  who  could  not  foresee  his  own."' 

On  the  28th  of  September,  1066,  the  Norman  fleet  made  the  port  of 
Pevensey,  on  the  coast  of  Sussex. 

Wace's  Chronicle  of  the  Norman  Conquest  affords  a  graphic  picture 

>Mmimsbiirj.     Wace.  *Wace.  *Ibid. 

*  Tbierrj^t  Anglo-Normaiis.  *  Ibid.  '  Wace.    Henderaoo. 


Tlieknighlai 


F  of  the  dUerabsrkation  of  ibe  ilukc  and  his 
I  ferdiera  landed  Gnu' 

After  the  soldiers,  came  tlie  cnrpunlcre,  amiorers,  and  mofions,  % 
L  Iheir  tools  in  tlieir  liuids,  and  planes,  snws,  axes,  aitd  odier  iiuplei:  ~ 
r  alung  (o  tlieir  sides.  Lasi  of  all  nime  llie  duke,  wlio.  stumbling  a 
I  lM{>eiI  to  sliure,  lueasureil  liis  nuijeslic  lieighl  upon  the  beach. 

ForihwitJi   all   raised   a  cry  of  JiBlress.     "An   evil  sign   is 

I  Mclaimf^  the  super«liuou»  Noruiana ;  but  the  duke,  who,  in  reci 

I  liiiuM'lf,  had  filled  his  iionds  with  sand,  cried  nut  in  a  loud  and  c 

I  Voice,  ■'  See,  sri^^ncurii .'  by  the  sptendimr  of  God  I  have  st^ised  England 

with  my  two  hands.*     Witliout  challenge  no  prize  can  be  made,  and 

that  which  1  have  grasped  I  will,  by  your  good  help,  mainUiin." 

On  this,  one  of  his  followers  mi  forward,  and  enatching  a  h^kndful  of 
thaich  from  the  roof  of  a  hul,  brought  il  lo  the  duke,'  exclainitng  mer- 
rily, "  Sire,  conie  forward  and  receive  «iiin.     I  give  yon  seisin,  in  token 
I    (bai  this  realm  is  yours." 

I      "I  accept  il,"  replied  the  duke,  "and  may  Ood  be  with  uaT" 
I      They  then  sal  down,  and  diued  logeihtr  on  the  beach ;  after  * 
'    they  sought  for  a  spot  on  which  to  rear  a  wooilen  fort,  which  they^l 
brought  in  disjointed  pieces,  iu  theic  ships,  from  Normandy. 

Matilda  hofi,  in  a  curious  section  of  the  Bayeux  tapestry,  shotn 
the  manner  in  which  the  inieiy  followers  of  her  loin  carried  the,^ 
.    joJjQled  ^me-work  of  tliis  timber  fortress  to  the  shore.     Th«  sol^ 
L  usisied  tito  car|>enter«  and  other  crartsmeo  in  iliis  arduous  underti 
I  ind  the  duke  encouraged  and  stimulated  tbem,  in  this  union  of  latq 
1 1p  euftli  good  purpose,  thai  before  even-ftill  they  hod  finished  llieir 
■  ing.  fortified  il,  and  supped  merrily  ilierein.     Here  the  duke  tarried  ] 
I  days.    William  had,  through  the  agency  of  >latilda'»   brother 
I'Totttg.  arranged  measures  with  Ilarloger,  king  of  Norway,  that  1 
rlll&cks  upon  England  should  be  simultaneous;  but  the  contrary  v 
ITlii^  had  detained  his  Seels  so  long  ai  St-  Valleri,  had  speeded  the  >..._. 
I  «f  his  northern  ally,  so  thai  Harfager  and  Tostig  entered  the  Tyne  wiili 
I  ihrec  hundred  ships,  and  commenced  tlieir  work  of  rapine  and  devasta- 

liiion  in  the  north  of  En^lmul,  iliat  ihe  foremn-i  i-  -  -      -   ''  - 
tpaD]'  M)  touch   l)ie  land  r>r  promlfS.  wni  ilip  anc«lnr  of  (he  S' 
irgb  CasllB,  in  Wesimoialsnd,  wlio  tlvriVB  iheit  name  and  m  i. 
»,     TlieT  •tiow  the  fvtiinl   in  tlie  ancient  banquetin. 

lowet  of  Sisergh  Ca»I|p,  wiib  wliich  it  is  sMened  by  t: 

■Ip,  DadUion,  llist  llie  rcdoutited  chief  Rt a  tinicb  the  land  b1  Pcv^'ii.t^'i'.     'I'ha 

wyoh  nppeara  furmisl  for  a  giant's  gia^p,  ii  not.  however,  wc  Imagfiav 

t  dau  iban  die  dar>  of  Edwanl  111.,  and  ereatly  rHembJeg  ihe  «wa«4       I 

t  Mase  twIniiKiuE  10  lliat  mnniiroli,  wliinli   in  shown  in  W«Uiiin*lai  AUi*/.    Il       | 

•  more  pnibublv  ihni  II  pennined  la  Mr  Ttaomat  Siiickjand,  wliu  mtivmlerj  tin 

^Btntiaiu  Edward  in  bil  French  cmnpaigDa,  ilian  U  llie  Nornian  fouiidoi  of  biS 


tbaich  fruin  lliF 


Matthew  of  Wen>nin>vi,    This  ceremony  ii 
■ — le  copyliold  esoiics,     Formetljf  a  turf  fnm  a 


:  puicliMcr  a  legal  lillr  of  puiwMion, 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDERS.  35 

fion  a  full  fortnight  before  the  arrival  of  the  Norman  armament  Harold 
was  thus  at  liberty  to  direct  his  whole  strength  against  his  fraternal  foe 
and  Harfager;  and  the  intelligence  of  his  decisive  victory  at  Stanford 
Bridge,  where  both  Tostig  and  Harfager  were  defeated  and  slain,  reached^ 
William  four  days  after  his  landing  at  Pevensey,'  while  he  lay  entrenched  ' 
in  his  wooden  citadel,  waiting  for  a  communication  from  his  confede- 
rates, before  he  ventured  to  advance  farther  up  the  country.  On  receiv- 
ing this  un&vourable  news,  William  manifested  no  consternation  or  sur- 
prise, but,  turning  to  his  nobles,  said,  ^^  You  see  the  astrologer^s  prediction 
was  false.  We  cannot  win  the  land  without  a  battle ;  and  here  I  vow 
that  if  it  shall  please  God  to  give  me  the  victory,  that  on  whatever  spot 
it  shall  befall  I  will  there  build  a  church  to  be  consecrated  to  the  blessed 
Trinity,  and  to  St  Martin,  where  perpetual  prayers  shall  be  offered  for 
the  sins  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  for  my  own  sins,  the  sins  of  Matilda 
my  spouse,  and  the  sins  of  such  as  have  attended  me  in  this  expedition, 
but  more  particularly  for  the  sins  of  such  as  may  fall  in  the  battle.'' ' 

This  vow  greatly  reassured  his  followers,  and  appears  to  have  been 
considered  by  the  valiant  Normans  as  a  very  comfortable  arrangement 
Hard  work,  however,  it  must  have  prepared  for  the  priests,  who  had  to 
sing  and  pray  away  the  sins  of  all  the  parties  specified,  if  we  take  into 
consideration  who  and  what  manner  of  people  they  were. 

Harold,  meantime,  was  far  beyond  the  Humber,  and  in  high  spirits  at 
the  signal  victory  he  had  obtained  at  Stanford  Bridge,  supposing  at  the 
same  time  that  the  duke  of  Normandy  had  delayed  his  threatened  inva- 
sion till  the  spring,'  as  the  &ther  of  Matilda  had  deceitfully  informed 
him.  But  the  intelligence  of  the  arrival  of  these  unwelcome  guests  was 
too  soon  conveyed  to  him,  by  a  knight  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Pe- 
vensey,  who  had  heard  the  outcry  of  the  peasants  on  the  coast  of  Sus- 
sex, when  they  saw  the  great  fleet  arrive,  and  being  aware  of  the  project 
of  the  Norman  duke,  had  posted  himself  behind  a  hill,  where,  unseen 
himself,  he  had  watched  the  disembarkation  of  this  mighty  host,  and 
their  proceedings  on  the  shore,  till  they  had  built  up  and  entrenched 
their  wooden  fortress;  which,  being  done  with  such  inconceivable 
rapidity,  appeared  to  him  like  the  work  of  enchantment  Sorely  trou- 
bled at  what  he  had  seen,  the  knight  girded  on  his  sword,  and  taking 
lance  in  hand,  mounted  his  fleetest  steed,  and  tarried  not  by  the  way, 
either  for  rest  or  refreshment,  till  he  had  found  Harold,  to  whom  he 
communicated  his  alarming  tidings,  in  these  words :  ^^  The  Normans 
have  come  —  they  have  landed  at  Hastings,  and  built  up  a  fort  which 
they  have  enclosed  with  a  foss  and  palienides ;  and  they  will  rend  the 
land  from  thee  and  thine,  unless  thou  defend  it  well."  * 

In  the  forlorn  hope  of  ridding  himself  of  his  formidable  invader, 
Harold  offered  to  purchase  the  departure  of  the  Norman  duke,  telling 
him  ^  that  if  silver  or  gold  were  his  object,  he,  who  had  enriched  him- 
self with  the  spoils  of  the  defeated  king  of  Norway,  would  give  him 
enough  to  satisfy  both  himself  and  his  followers." 

'  Scucon  AdimUs,    Malmsbury.    Simon  Dunelm.    Henry  Huntingdon.    Waoa. 
•Wac«  '.^pdld.  ^NV«tt^ 


y^ 


* 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDERS.  ^^| 

Thanks  for  Harolirs  feir  words,"  replied  Wniiam,  "but  I  did  nol 
bring  90  many  teas  inio  ihis  countn,-  to  chan^  ihem  for  his  rtietlin*.' 
Hy  purpose  in  coming  is  to  claim  ihis  realm,  which  is  mine,  according 
to  ihe  gifi  of  king  Edward,  which  was  confirmed  by  Harold's  oath." 

"Hay,  but  you  ask  loo  much  of  ns,  sire."  returned  the  messenger,  by 
whom  t)ie  pacific  offer  had  been  made ;  '■  my  lord  is  not  so  pressed  that 
he  should  resign  his  kingdom  at  your  desire.  Ifarold  will  ^ve  yott 
nothing  but  what  you  can  take  from  him,  unless  in  a  friendly  way,  as  ■ 
rondilion  for  your  departure,  which  he  is  willing  to  purchase  with  iaise 
ctore  of  atlver  and  gold  and  line  garments ;  but  if  you  accept  not  lila 
olfet,  know  that  he  is  ready  to  give  you  balUe  on  Saturday  nest,  if  yon 
be  in  the  field  on  that  day."  * 

The  duke  accepted  this  challenge ,  and  on  ihe  Friday  evening  pre- 
ceding that  fatal  day  for  the  Saxon  cause,  Harold  plained  his  ganfuuon 
on  the  very  spot  where  Battle  Abbey  now  stands. 

The  Nornnns  and  English  being  equally  apprehensive  of  attack  during 
the  season  of  daikness,  kept  watch  and  wanl  timi  night,  but  employed 
their  vigils  in  a  very  difleient  manner. 

The  English,  according  to  the  report  of  contemporary  chroniclere, 
kepi  up  their  spirits  with  a  riotous  carouse,  crying  IVassatl  and  Dnnk 
htalf  dancing,  laughiiig,  and  gambling  all  night.  The  Normans,  on  ihe 
contrary,  being  in  a  devout  frame  of  mind,  made  confessions  of  their 
sins,  and  employed  the  precious  moments  in  recommending  thcmselvM 
to  the  care  of  God.  The  day  on  which  the  battle  was  to  lake  placa 
being  Saturday  withal,  they,  by  the  advice  of  their  spiritual  directors, 
Tow^ed  that  if  the  victory  were  awarded  to  them,  they  \rould  never  inaro 
eat  flesh  on  that  day  of  the  week :  an  obligation  which,  till  very  recently, 
was  observed  by  the  Catholics  in  England. 

"  Odo,  (he  warrior  bishop  of  Buyeux,  William's  half-brother  by  the 
BioAer's  side,  and  Goisfred,  bishop  of  Coutauces,  received  coufessioiWt 
'ItUtowed  benedictions,  and  imposed  penances  not  a  few."  * 

Tlie  battle  joined  on  the  14ih  of  October,  Harold's  birth-day,  on  a 
•jwt  about  seven  miles  from  Hastings,  called  Ueathfield,  where  tlie  town 
of  Battle  now  stands. 

When  WUliam  was  arming  for  the  encounter,  in  his  haste  and  agitation 
he  unwittingly  put  on  his  hauberk  the  hind  part  before."  He  quickly 
changed  it :  but,  perceiving,  from  the  looks  of  consternation  among  tlu 
bystanders,  that  his  mistake  had  been  observed,  and  construed  into  as 
omen  of  ill,  he  smilingly  observed,  "  I  hare  seen  many  a  man  who,  if 
such  a  thing  had  happened  to  him,  would  not  have  entered  the  bftttl^ 
field ;  but  1  never  believed  in  omens,  nor  have  I  ever  pat  my  bith  b 
(brtune>-tellers  nor  divinations  of  any  kind,  for  my  trust  is  in  God.  Id 
not  ihis  mischance  discouisge  you,  for  if  this  change  import  aught,  it  ■ 

'  Wace.    A  pl>y  on  words  meeiuns  (nnnu  and  thiihngt ;  /»,  ine«iiitiB  K  ibi'  U 
■•  well  M  ifae  ooin  ulled  a.  crown. 
■BfalnuboiT.    Matihow  of  ■WpBiminsier.    Wao», 
"^bh  heallh"  and '•Drink  be 
WlM.    irilliam  o(  Vt&K 


MATILDA    OF    FLAlfDBRS.  37 

that  the  power  of  my  dukedom  shall  he  turned  into  a  kingdom— -yea)  a 
king  shall  I  be,  who  have  hitherto  been  but  a  duke.''  * 

Then  the  duke  called  for  the  good  steed  which  had  been  presented  to 
him  as  a  token  of  friendship  by  the  king  of  Spain. 

Matilda  has  done  justice  to  this  noble  charger,  in  her  Bayeux  tapestry. 
It  is  represented  as  caparisoned  for  the  battle,  and  led  by  Gualtier  Gi^brt, 
the  duke's  squire.  There  is  in  the  same  group  the  figure  of  a  knight 
armed  cap-d-pi^,  in  the  close-fitting  ring  armour,  and  nasal  conical 
helmet,  worn  by  the  Norman  chivalry  of  that  era,  with  a  gonfanon 
attached  to  his  lance,  something  afler  the  &shion  of  the  streamer  which 
forms  part  of  the  paraphernalia  of  the  modem  lancer,  with  this  difierence 
only,  that  the  gonfanon  of  the  ancient  knight  was  adorned  with  his  device 
or  armorial  baring,  and  served  the  purpose  of  a  banner  or  general  ral- 
lying point  for  his  followers. 

The  knightly  figure  in  the  Bayeux  tapestry,  which  I  have  just  de- 
scribed, is  generally  believed  to  have  been  designed  for  the  veritable 
effigies  of  the  redoubtable  conqueror  of  this  realm,  or  at  any  rate  as 
correct  a  resemblance  of  liim  as  his  loving  spouse  Matilda  could  produce 
in  cross-stitch.  He  is  delineated  in  the  act  of  extending  his  hand  to 
greet  his  favourite  steed. 

"  The  duke,"  says  Wace,  "  took  the  reins,  put  foot  in  stirrup,  and 
mounted ;  and  the  good  horse  pawed,  pranced,  reared  himself  up,  and 
curveted."  The  viscount  of  Toazay,  who  stood  by,  thus  expressed  to 
those  around  him  his  admiration  of  the  duke's  fine  appearance  and  noble 
horsemanship : ' 

^  Never,"  said  he,  ^  have  I  seen  a  man  so  fairly  armed,,  nor  one  who 
rode  so  gallantly,  and  became  his  hauberk  so  well,  or  bore  his  lance  so 
gracefully.  There  is  no  other  such  knight  under  heaven !  A  fair  count 
he  is,  and  a  fair  king  he  will  be.  Let  him  fight,  and  he  will  overcome : 
and  shame  be  to  him  who  shall  fail  him."  ' 

The  Normans  were  drawn  up  in  three  bodies.  Montgomery  and  Fitz- 
Oshom  led  the  first,  Geoffrey  Martel  led  the  second,  and  the  duke  him- 
self headed  the  third,  which  was  composed  of  the  flower  of  Normandy, 
and  kept  in  reserve  till  the  proper  moment  for  its  most  eflective  advance 
should  be  ascertained  by  its  skilful  and  puissant  leader. 

Taillefer,  the  warrior  minstrel  of  Normandy,  rode  gallantly  at  the 
head  of  the  chivalry  of  his  native  land,  singing  the  war-song  of  Rollo.* 
William  had  that  day  three  horses  killed  under  him,  without  losing  a 
drop  of  his  own  blo(>d ;  finding,  however,  that  Harold  had  succeeded  in 
rallying  a  strong  body  of  men  around  him  on  one  of  the  heights,  with 
the  evident  intention  of  keeping  possession  of  that  vantage  ground,  till 
the  approaching  night  should  favour  the  Saxon's  retreat,  he  made  his 
last  desperate  charge  upon  the  people  of  the  land.  In  this  attack  it  was 
supposed  that  Harold  was  slain  by  a  random  arrow,  which  was  shot 
through  the  left  eye  into  his  brain. 

*  Wace.  •  Ibid.  •  Ibid.     Chronicle  of  the  Dukes  of  Normand/. 

*  MalmsbuTj.    Matthew  of  Westminster.    Henry  Huntingdon.    Speed.    Rapin. 
Chronicle  de  Bello  Will.  Gemeticensis. 

VOL,  1.  —  4 


The  »Ifl(rri(«ia  duke  pitched  liie  tent  that  niglil  in  the  lielJ  of  the 
desilt  which,  in  inemoiy  of  the  dreadful  slaughter  that  had  dyeil  the 
«»nh  to  erinison,  was  ever  after  called  by  him  the  vale  of  Sangurlae.' 
This  fiercely  coiilestei!  baliie  com  William  the  lives  of  six  thousand  of 
his  bravenl  followers ;  but  Malmsbury,  and  other  arrredited  htstorikiu 
of  thai  lime,  rale  the  loss  of  the  Saxons  at  threescore  tlionsand  men.' 

When  the  duchesB-regcnl  of  Normnndy.  Maiihla,  receired  the  joyful 
tidings  of  the  victory  which  her  lord  liad  obiuinod  nt  Hasliiiga,  she  wu 
'engaged  in  her  devotions,  in  the  chapel  of  the  Benedictine  priory  nf 
Kotre  Dame,  in  the  fields  near  the  suburbs  of  St.  Sevre ;  >iid  after  re- 
turning her  thanksgivings  to  the  God  of  battles,  for  llie  success  of  hei 
ronson's  arms,  she  ordered  that  the  priory  should  henceforth  he  dJIcd, 
in  memory  of  that  circumslance,  ^olrf  Damt  ds  Bonws  .\buvellc* 
And  by  that  name  it  is  distinguished  lo  this  day.' 

The  coronation  of  the  mighty  forefaiher  of  our  present  line  of  save> 
Teigns  UTok  place  at  WeBiminsler,  on  Monday  the  K5lh  of  Dt-ceniber. 
being  Christmas-day.  or,  as  it  was  colled  by  oiir  Saxon  ancestors,  Mtd- 
•winter-dny.  Splendid  preparations  were  made  in  the  sister  cities  of 
'London  and  Westminster,  for  the  celebration  of  the  twofold  fesiivgj,  of 
the  nativity  of  our  Lord  and  the  inauguration  of  the  new  sovereign.  On 
fte  afternoon  of  Christmas  ere,  William  of  Nommndy  entered  Uie  city 
on  hoTBeback,  and  was  greeted  by  the  acclatnaitons  of  the  Londonen. 
Hb  took  Dp  his  lodgings  that  nighi  at  the  palace  iu  Blackfriars,  when 
Bridewell  now  stands.  Early  in  the  morning  he  went  by  water  to 
Lundou-bndge,  wiierc  he  landed  ami  proceeded  In  a  house  near  London- 
■tone,  where,  af^r  reposing  a  while,  he  set  forth  with  a  stately  CAvalcaiie 
'gallanlty  rauniitcd,  and  rode  to  Westminster,  amidst  the  shouts  of  8 
'prodigious  multitude,  who  were  reconciled,  by  Uie  excitement  of  titt 
pageant,  to  the  idea  of  receiving  for  their  sovereign  a  man  whom  natun 
had  80  admirably  qualified  lo  set  oflT  the  trappings  of  royidty.' 

-    ■  Saxon  Annals.     Sp«ed.     OnleriiMia  ayt  it  wbb  i:al1ud   n  Iohb  hvlore  Ihii 

*Tb*  fallowing  day  wa*  devoied  by  llie  Norman  conqueroti  to  Itji?  iniotinent 
of  ihvir  iliwil  1  and  Wiltiam  bbtb  laiie  and  lioeoca  to  tlie  Eoii-n    :         ~- 

Croim  llie  liliD  chanubte  otllce  to  ilia  rciiiBiin 
Rih  was  insJ»  fbr  ihe  iKxty  of  Hatoli],  bnl  r 
(trippeil  md  gashed  tliv  viotims  of  the  fliiht,  so  thai  ii  was  diiKriii^ 
A«IW*ra  lbs  ronrtiU  remaini  of  tb«  Imtcr  and  llie  serf.  Giths.  r'i< 
BaroliI,  bad  been  lirrwtf  unable  to  ideDlify  th»  boily  of  her  bi^l'ivpH  ''■n  ;  bni 
ibara  wa*  ons  wbosa  food  eye  ao  chaoge  iu  ilie  objoel  of  hn  mffixtioa  mold 
^awive  i  this  was  a.  Salon  liuly  of  great  beauiy,  EJiUi,  suiDanied  &wans-Ral>i 
m  tlie  Swan-nmked ;  she  bad  Girmoi  ly  been  on  ihose  icims  widi  HaioliT  whigh 
ilui  tmdered  hec  only  loo  Ifaniiliar  With  bis  )H!riiniial  chnmcliiTistiiM.  itnd  by  b« 
'thir  DOipse  of  liet  folM  lover  was  reoognised.     Giihn.  il  is  said,  ofTprni  to  pw 

'khaae  il  of  William,  at  the  piiceof  iis  Weight  in  gold;  but  he  yieidnd  ii  witlioM 
■  taoKHn  to  the  afflicled  moiher,  either  througb  a  grnaroii*  impulse  of  cumpW- 
•■oil,  or  with  *  vi(>w  of  flonoiliating  ihe  kindred  of  Ihe  deccoied.  He  nlso  taab- 
ietcd  a  Nwiuan  wUiei,  wtio  boasled  of  baviiig  gaslied  Uie  leg  of  ih<!  lojal 
Saxon  aAer  ba  had  fallen.  The  mollin  of  Haruld  burin)  bet  son  ai  hi*  lojfal 
ItliiDdalion  of  Wallliam  Abbey,  placing  over  his  tomb  l]ie  simple  bul  expiiiwit* 

^mwaiv,  -HarolJ  J dfelii."— Thierry.     Chron.  of  Wallham.     Malniibury. 
I  'i^K^ora/i  A'cirman  Antiquities.  ' IiiRu\p\iu».    Oid«nQusTli:^lK| 


ic  unforiuiiN 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDXEf* 

Next  to  his  person  rode  the  nohility  of  England,  and  those  of  Nor- 
mandy followed.  Up  to  that  period,  so  brilliant  a  coronation  had  never 
been  witnessed,  and  perhaps  there  have  been  few  since  that  have  sur- 
pasfted  it  in  splendour :  it  is  certain  that  there  has  never  been  one  at 
which  so  many  foreign  princes  and  peers  have  assisted. 

In  consequence  of  the  dispute  between  Stigand,  archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, and  the  Pope,  William  chose  to  be  crowned  and  consecrated 
by  the  hand  of  Aldred,  archbishop  of  York,'  to  avoid  the  possibility  of 
the  ceremony  being  questioned  at  any  future  time.  He  took  not  the 
crown,  however,  as  a  right  of  conquest,  but  by  consent  of  the  people, 
for  the  archbishop,  before  he  placed  the  royal  circlet  on  his  head, 
paused,  and  Cuming  to  the  English  nobles,  asked  them  ^  if  they  were 
willing  to  have  the  duke  of  Normandy  for  their  king ;"  to  which  they 
replied  with  such  continuous  acclamations  of  assent,  that  the  vehemence 
of  their  loyalty,  more  noisy  than  sincere,  had  nearly  been  productive 
of  the  most  fatal  consequences.  William  had  surrounded  the  abbey, 
and  guarded  its  approaches  with  a  large  body  of  Norman  soldiers,  as  a 
prudential  measure,  in  case  any  attempt  upon  his  life  should  be  made 
by  his  new  vassals ;  and  those  trusty  guards  without  the  abbey,  mis- 
taking the  clamorous  applause  within  for  a  seditious  rising  amongst  the 
Saxons,  with  intent  to  massacre  their  lord  and  his  Norman  followers,  in 
the  first  emotions  of  surprise  and  rage,  set  fire  to  the  adjoining  houses 
by  way  of  reprisals.  The  flames  rapidly  communicating  to  the  wooden 
buildings  round  about,  produced  great  consternation,  and  occasioned  the 
loss  of  many  lives.  AVilliam,  and  the  pale  and  trembling  assistant  pre- 
lates and  priests  within  the  church,  were  dismayed,  and  faltered  in  the 
midst  of  the  ceremonial,  and  with  good  cause ;  for  if  great  exertions 
had  not  been  used  by  the  more  sober-minded  portion  of  th^  Norman 
guards,  to  extinguish  the  conflagration,  which  presently  extended  to  the 
abbey,  that  magnificent  edifice,  with  all  the  illustrious  company  within 
its  walls,  must  have  been  consumed  together.  Some  persons  have  con- 
sidered this  fire  as  the  work  of  the  Saxon  popidace,  witR  intent  to  destroy 
at  one  blow  the  Norman  conqueror  and  his  followers,  with  such  of  their 
own  countrymen  as  had  forgotten  their  honour  so  far  as  to  become,  not 
only  witnesses,  but  assistants,  at  the  coronation  of  their  foe.  And  this 
indeed  is  not  improbable,  if  the  Anglo-Saxons  of  that  period  had  evinced 
a  spirit  capable  of  conceiving  and  carrying  into  execution  a  design  of 
such  terrific  grandeur,  for  the  deliverance  of  their  country.  We  are, 
therefore,  inclined  to  agree  with  all  contemporary  chroniclers,  in  attri- 
buting the  conflagration  to  the  Norman  soldiery,  who  could  by  no 
means  be  appeased,  till  their  beloved  chief  came  out  of  the  abbey,  and 
shewed  himself  to  them,  in  his  coronation  robes  and  diadem.' 

"  *•  Then  on  Midwinter-day,  archbishop  Aldred  hallowed  him  to  king  at  Wesl- 
minstc^rf  and  gave  him  possession  with  the  books  of  Christ;  and  also  swore 
him,  ere  that  he  would  set  the  crown  upon  his  head,  tliat  he  would  so  well 
gorem  this  nation,  as  any  king  before  him  best  did,  if  they  would  be  fkithful  to 
bim.* — Saxon  Chronicle.  *  William  of  Poitou.     Lingard. 


MATILDA     OF    FLA»DER8. 


MATILDA  OF  FLANDERS. 

QUEEN    OF    WILLIAM    THE    CONQUEROR.' 


CHAPTER  11. 


I 


Ibtild*  unaias  rho  tilleof  qamt  ofEnBliind  in  Normandy — Her  tegraaf] 
— Punmiige    of   l«iming— Chsrities — H«r   vengeance    on    Brililri      "'   ' 
Obuuiw  hia  lindf — His  iiiiprin>aineni — Death  in  prrson — WilMan 
BnbhBinsleBd — Triumphant  lelom  to  NormanJ]' — Matilda  awaiti 
— Triumphal  Ndiduui  ptogreMiu — R«tij1u  in  England — ^William 
Matilda  icgoni  — Einbarlu  for  England  in  a  Bloim — Witliaoj  isndi  fa 
tilda— She  airivea  in  England  with  hrr  children — Het  cDmnalion  ai 
tct — Champion  nl  her  Coronaiian — Biilh  of  her  son  Henr; — Bojrpu 
—Her  dwarf  atiut  Torold— Her  daughter  beirothni  to  Earl  Eitwiu- 
brobni — Queen  Matilda's  leiuin  lo  Nonnaiul)- — Regent  tliore  iIm  ibint 
Bet  paSBionalD  toTo  Ibr  her  eldest  ion — Death  n(  her  father — Dbsci 
hci  brother* — III  eUeuts  of  her  ■Iwcuce — English  miseries — Scparait 
tnenu  of  William  nnd  Matilda — King  of  France  anacki  Malilds — Uei 
BDvemmeni — Diaoonteni  of  Konnan  lodiei — Somdaloui  report* — Wi" 
■appoaed  conjugal  infldelity — Malilda'i  cruelly  to  hor  rival — Duke  of  ~ 
bivaile*  Hormandjr  —  Marriage  trilli    Matilda's    second    daugttm  — 
Cieelj  iMofeucd — DUsensioui  in  llie  tofa!  family — Matilda's  gianialitjr 
•on  Robeit — Uet  sacMid  son,  Prime  Richairl — His  death — New  ForeM. 

"  Oi'K  mistresa  Madlda,"  m)**  Williain  of  Poitoti,'  ihe  chaplain  a 
Conqueror,  "had  alreadv  BMumei]  the  name  of  queen,  though  ahs 
not  yet  crowned.  She  had  governed  Normandy  during  Ihe  absem] 
her  lonl  with  ^real  prudence  and  sklU."  So  fimily,  indeed.  IukI 
anihorily  been  sustained,  that,  though  ihe  whole  flower  and  streiigt 
Npnnandy  had  followed  the  fortunes  of  Uieir  warlike  duke  to  ihe  aX 
of  £n)(land,  nut,  one  o!  liie  neighbouring  princes  had  ventured  to 
■he  duchess- regent. 

Il  is  true  lliat  her  klnrman,  the  emperor  Henry,  had  engaged,  j 
of  any  aggression  on  the  part  of  France  or  Brelagne,  lo  defend  H«* 
■Muuly  with  the  whole  strength  of  Germany ;  and  she  alao  had  a  po»- 
vfu)  neighbour  and  protector  in  ihe  curl  of  F'Landen,  her  JaLher;  but 
peal  credit  was  ccrutiuly  due  to  her  own  political  conduct,  in  kccpiif 
ue  duchy  free,  boili  from  esu^nial  cnihroilnicnt*  aud  internal  sum,  M 
•uch  s  momentous  period.  Her  goTernmenl  was  very  popular,  n»  vrtU 
M  prosperous  iu  Nomundy,'  where,  surrounded  by  the  most  Ivajnod 
tneii  of  ihe  age,  she  advanced,  iu  no  slight  degree,  ilie  progress  of  caiilH 
xstion  ami  retineiiient.     The  encourageinenl  aflbrdcd  by  lurr  to  ana  ami 

'This  elfganl  auUior.  wlio  is  alsii  called  Pii^tavicnsis,  was  atcbdmi'iia  uf  IjsiMU 
H»  ChnuuJe  of  Uie  ConqueM  of  England  i>  wrillen  in  verf  Uuwiiic  langiMH 
Ktemljr  teKinbliug  in  style  an  hemic  |K>em.  It  abounds  With  oulogiums  on  U( 
rofal  pauon,  but  is  ailnmelr  valiialile  on  aixHimil  of  tlio  petHiinl  luslii>]t  whld 
it  eontaina,  li  i*  wmotiinet  ealied  the  Domestic  Chronicle  of  Wtlliom  oT  Ifo 
—'^  *Oidefico*  Viialit.    William  of  PaUM, 


■  ▲TILDA    OF    TLANDBR8.  41 

letters,  has  won  for  this  princess  golden  reports  in  the  chronicle  lore  of 
that  age. 

Well  aware  was  Matilda  of  the  importance  which  it  is  to  princes,  to 
enlist  in  their  serrice  the  pens  of  those  who  possess  the  power  of  de- 
fending or  undermining  thrones,  and  whose  influence  continues  to  bias 
the  minds  of  men  aAer  the  lapse  of  ages. 

^  This  princess,''  says  Ordericus  Vitalis,  ^  who  derived  her  descent 
from  the  kings  of  France  and  emperors  of  Germany,  was  even  more 
distinguished  for  the  purity  of  her  mind  and  manners  than  for  her  illus- 
trious lineage.  As  a  queen  she  was  munificent,  and  liberal  of  her  gif^. 
She  united  beauty  with  gentle  breeding  and  all  the  graces  of  Christian 
holiness.  While  the  victorious  arms  of  her  illustrious  spouse  subdued 
an  things  before  him,  she  was  indefatigable  in  alleviating  distress  in 
every  shape,  and  redoubled  her  alms.  In  a  word,  she  exceeded  all  com- 
mendations, and  won  the  love  of  all  hearts." 

Soch  is  the  character  which  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  circum- 
stuitial  historians  of  the  eleventh  century  has  given  of  Matilda.  Tet 
Ordericus  Vitalis,  as  a  contemporary  witness,  could  scarcely  have  been 
ignonot  of  the  dark  stain  which  the  first  exercise  of  her  newly  acquired 
power  in  England  has  led  upon  her  memory. 

The  Chronicle  of  Tewkesbury,^  which  states  that  Brihtric  Meaw,  the 
lord  of  the  honour  of  Gloucester,  when  he  resided  at  her  father's  court 
as  ambassador  from  Edward  the  Confessor,'  had  refused  to  marry  Ma- 
tflda,  adds,  that  in  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  William  the  Conqueror, 
Matilda  obtained  from  her  lord  the  grant  of  all  Brihtric's  lands  and 
honours,  and  that  she  then  caused  the  unfortunate  Saxon  to  be  seized  at 
his  manor  of  Hanelye,  and  conveyed  to  Winchester,  where  he  died  ir. 
prison  and  was  privately  buried.' 

Thus,  then,  does  it  appear  that  Matilda,  after  having  filled  for  fourteen 
years  a  most  exalted  station,  and  enjoying  the  greatest  happiness  as  a 
wife  and  mother,  had  secretly  brooded  over  the  bitter  memory  of  the 
slight  that  had  been  ofkred  to  her  in  early  youth,  for  the  purpose  of 
inflicting  the  deadliest  vengeance  in  return,  on  the  man  who  had  rejected 
the  love  she  had  once  condescended  to  ofier. 

This  circumstance  is  briefly  related,  not  in  a  general,  but  a  topogra- 
phical history,  without -comment,  and  it  is  in  no  slight  degree  confirmed 
by  the  recoitls  of  the  Domesday-book,  where  it  appears  that  Avening, 

'Chron.  Tewkesbury  Bib.  Cottonian  MSS.  Cleopatra,  c.  111.  Mouasticoa, 
vol.  iiu  p-  ^9.     Lelamrs  Coll.,  vol.  i.,  p.  78.  i 

•  The  Author  of  the  continuation  of  Brut,  born  in  the  same  age,  and  written  ia 
the  reign  of  Henry  L,  son  of  this  queen,  thus  allmles  to  this  circumstance  : — 


*^Lii  quele  jadis  quant  fu  pucelle, 
Ama  un  conte  d'Angleterre, 
Brihtric  Mau,  le  oi  noraer, 
Apres  le  roi  ki  fu  riche  ber, 
A  lui  la  pncell  envoeia  mcssager. 
Pur  sa  amour  a  lui  procurer : 
Mait  Brihtric  Maude  refusa.'' 

*  Chionicle  of  Tewkesbury.    Thierry's  Anglo-Normans. 

4* 


Who  when  she  was  maiden 
Loved  a  count  of  England, 
Brihtric  Mau  he  was  named, 
Except  tlie  king  was  no  richer  man. 
To  him  the  virgin  sent  a  messenger 
His  love  for  her  to  obtain : 
But  Brihtric  Maude  refused. 


H&TltHA    OF    rLAXDERf. 

Tew1(e*liury,  Fairford.,  Thnrnhury.  ^Vliircn burst,  and  rarinns  other  pc»- 
Besainris  In  Gloiic«slershire.  lielong;iiig  lo  Brihtrir,  ttie  sun  of  AlffBr,  wen 
pwited  Ml  Matilda  by  ihe  Comjueror,  and.  after  ber  deaih.  rcverliti)^  lo 
the  crown,  were  by  Willuun  again  btntuw  ed  on  their  iecond  son,  Willkn 
Rnfna.' 

Alaiilda,  moreover,  deprived  Glouceainr  of  its  charter  and  civic  tibei^ 
ties,  merely  becauw  il  was  the  ciiy  of  ibe  nnfcirtunnte  Brihiric — perhspn, 
for  sbowing  annie  sign  of  rescntnient  fur  his  fate. 

We  feur  tbal  the  first  of  our  Normal)  queens  must,  on  this  evidencn. 
•land  conxiettd  of  ihe  crime  of  wrong  and  robberj",  if  not  of  mlmdntr 
inunler;  and  if  tl  liad  been  posMible  to  make  a  posl-mortem  exaininalkNi 
;  on  the  body  of  ilie  nnfonnnaie  son  tif  Algar,  sufficient  reason  nuglil 
have  btwn  seen,  perhaps,  for  the  piinw  nainre  of  his  interment  AH 
this  wrong  wn«  done  hy  agency ;  for,  If  dates  be  correct,  Matilda  hx) 
not  yet  eniored  Englani!. 

A  few  (bys  afler  his  cnronalton,  Williiun,  fecting  some  rea!<on  to  dis- 
trust the  L»iidi>ners,  withdrew  to  his  old  (jiiartera  at  BnrkhnmalwA 
where  he  kept  liis  court,  and  suecenled  in  diaving  round  him  many  ti 
the  moct  inlluential  of  the  Saxon  princes  and  thanes,  lo  whom,  in  letim 
lor  their  osihs  of  allegiance,  he  resiorcd  their  estates  and  honoun^ 

His  next  step,  for  the  nintual  saii«faciion  of  his  Nonnan  followen 
•nd  Saxon  subjects,  was  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  chtrrch  and  ahbey 
ef  St.  Mnitin,  now  called  Daiile  Abbey,  ivhere  perpetual  prayers  wen 
directed  in  t>e  aliened  up.  for  tlie  repuse  of  the  souls  of  all  who  had 
fallen  in  lliai  sanguinary  coiillict 

The  iiigh  aliar  of  this  magnificent  monument  of  the  Nonnao  tictnnr 
was  wt  up  on  the  very  spot  w  bore  Harold's  body  was  found,  or,  aecocii- 
ing  lo  others,'  whcip  be  first  pitched  bis  gonfanon. 

Tranqnillity  wm  now  restored  in  England,  or  things  werci  fast  pro- 

l^reeaing  to  that  most  desired  consnmrnaiion.     William  having  betn  now 

't  monib*  separated  from  hi>  wife  and  family,  his  desire  to  rtnbnec 

Ihem  once  mure,  and  to  display  to  his  Norman  subjects  his  newljr 

Kquired  grandeur,  induced  him  lo  revisit  his  native  cuuntr}-,  at  a  tine 

when  it  woulil  liave  been  far  more  conducive  to  his  interests  to  have 

f  mnAined  in  England,     Previoirs  to  his  depnrtum,  he  placed  strong  Nor- 

aian  garrisons  in  all  his  awt\e* ;  be  appointed  his  half-brother.  Odo, 

'bishop  of  Bayeux,*  with  his  faithful  kinsman  and  friend,  William  Fio- 

L  Osbarn,  r^cnla  of  England ;  and  carrinl  with  him  to  Motninndy  all  ibe 

pleading  men  among  the  Anglu-SaxonB,     Among  these  were  Edgar  Alhd- 

■JDg,  Morcar,  Edwin,  and  Wallheor.'    These  lords,  who  cenaiidy  hail  ni 

Pwisb  to  become  the  companions  of  his  voyage,  were  not  over-pleased 

W  Bi  the  idea  of  swelling  the  pride  of  the  Normans,  by  forming  a  part  of 

r  William's  triumphant  pageant. 


'  "  Inft™  •rripta*  lerru  ("nnil  Bnlitiu!  el  poM  Begina  Maliida."- 
BOfc,  ami.  il,  p,  I"n.     Hlmory  i>f  GlnuceWe;. 

■  Milinilnirr.     Wniinni  of  Poiiou. 

■  TliF  ton  of  hi>  mattier  Arlona,  bf  Heilewin  or  ContcTillv. 
•  WiUam  of  Fduu.    Malaibwiy.    S-Duiwlm.    Wabuvhso.   X-tfOSau^K 


J 

illmra  wu  detrrminfid  to  spend  llie  Easier  festival  in  Norma ndjit  ^^M 

hia  qtieen;  anil  reckless  of  tlie  seeds  of  diaifleclion  and  disgMt  ^^ 

h  he  was  iiowirig  in  ilie  husnins  of  tiis  new  subjecis,  he  re-cm Iwrkwl    ^H 

-_  M>Jt  Munu  to  the  month  of  March,  1U67.  uicl  with  the  most  splendid     ' 


I 


4m  tfae  Mem,  to  the  month  of  March,  1067,  uicl  with  the  most  splendid 
emnp*iiy  ihai  ever  sailed  from  England,  he  crossed  ihe  seas,  and  landed 
un  hi«  natiTC  shore,  a  little  below  the  abbey  of  Fescamp. 

^laiilila  was  already  there,  with  her  children,'  in  readinesi  to  receive 
■nd  wplrome  her  illustrious  lord,  who  was  greeted  with  the  most  ejithll- 
■uatir  niptare  by  all  ola<ses  of  his  subjeets.  For  joy  of  William's  retun 
tlic  sulFinn  &3t  of  Lent  was  this  year  kept  as  a  festival ;  all  labour  vnt 
naspenOnl.  aiiil  nothing  but  mirth  and  pleasure  prevailed  in  his  nittiTfe 
Xnnnanily.' 

WilliAra  appears  lo  have  had  infinite  piea«ure  in  displaying,  not  only 
to  bin  wife  and  family,  but  lo  the  foreign  aml«4sador«,  the  cosily  epoib 
ohirh  he  li»d  brought  over  from  England.'  The  quantity  and  exquisite 
worliinaiiship  of  the  gold  and  silver  plate,  and  withal,  the  richness  of 
the  onbrDidered  gurmenti,  wrought  by  the  skdfu!  hands  of  the  Anglo-. 
Saxua  bulies,  (llien  esteemed  so  inestimably  precious  in  all  parts  nf  E»- 
tope,  that  ihey  were  called,  by  distinction,  AngUcum  opus,')  esrited  the  /y' 
KlniiraUoQ  and  astonishment  of  all  beholders ;  but  more  purlicularly  did 
ihi-  kiilrndid  dress  of  hiii  guards,  end  the  magnificence  and  beauty  of  the 
t^-^ioircd  anil  uiouslached  An^lo-Ssson  noblus,  by  whum  he  was 
iiirndcd,  attmct  the  wonder  of  itie  foreign  princes  and  peers. 

Ttw  whole  summer  was  spent  by  William  iu  a  series  of  triumphant 
ITiieTewes,  through  the  towns  and  cities  of  Normandr,  with  his  queei>- 
ilucbem.*     Meanwhile,  EiigUiiU,  in  addition  to  all  the  recent  horrora  of 
"4rmid  rapine,  wna  suHeriug  at  one  and  the  same  time  the  evils  atienil- 
aai  on  a  system  of  aliscriteeism,  and  the  oppressive  weight  of  a  foreign 
irokt:.    The  spirit  of  freedom  was  crushed,  but  not  extinguished, among 
llw|itopIa  of  tlie  land;  and  ihe  absence  of  the  Conqueror  was  rcgunln.,' 
■■  ■  bvoarablo  opportunity  for  expelling  tlie  unwelcome  locusts  '*h»j^^B 
bd  fuitetied  upon  ihe  Und,  and  were  devouring  its  fatness ;  and  a  sev*A^^H 
ftot  was  in  ngiiation,  fur  a  simultaneous  rising  throughout  Englantl,  filV-^H 
dw  porpoM  nf  a  general  massacre  of  the  Normans/    Bat  though  the  ^| 
Mror  w  WiUiain's  aL'iual  presence  was  wiilidrawn  for  a  season,  he  kept 
V  ■  strict  espionage  on  iho  proceedingH  of  the  English.    The  first 
MMnr  of  what  was  going  on  among  them,  roused  him  from  the  career 
<f  plawure  which  he  had  been  pursuing.     Helinquiahing  the  idea  of 
nifiuig  a  splendid  Christmas  with  his  beloved  family,  he  re-appoinied 
■■dld&  anij  his  son  Robert  regents  of  Normandy,  and  embarking  on  a 
>mD7  SM,  he  sailed  from  Dieppe  on  the  Olh  of  December.^     On  the 
3lb  lie  arrived  al  Winchelsea.  ami  proceeded  inimediaiely  to  London,  to 
Iw  emuiemation  of  the  luaj contents,  who  thought  they  were  sure  of 
Um  for  Ihe  winter  season. 
%  kept  diriitmss  in  London,  ami  though  he  used  very  prompt  and 


MATILDA     OF     FLA 

I  mergetic  mMsures  fur  crushing  ihf 

L  reception  lo  such  of  the  English  prelates  and  nobles  as  veiiiured  lo  atiend 

I  iiis  summons. 

After  the  Huppresaion  of  ihe  revolt  caused  by  the  imposition  of  D«ne> 
gelt,  Williitni,  perceiving  the  disadvantages  attendant  on  a  queenle^s  court, 
and  feeling  withal  the  greatest  desire  to  enjoy  the  aocieiy  of  his  heuulifitl 
consorii  despatched  a  noble  company  into  NomiAndy,  to  conduct  Matilda 
and  her  children, to  England.'  She  joyfully  obeyed  the  welcome  man- 
date of  her  lord,  and  crossed  the  aea,  with  a  stately  cortege  of  nobiM, 
Itoights,  and  Indies.'  Anions;  l^c  learned  clerks  hy  whom  she  was  ■!• 
tendiMl  was  the  celebrated  Gui,  bishop  of  Amiens,  who  had  distinguished 
himself  by  an  heroic  poem  on  llie  defeat  and  fall  of  Harold. 

Matilda  arrived  in  England  soon  after  Easter,  in  the  month  of  April, 
1068.  and  proceeding  im mediately  lo  Winchester,  was  received  witfi 
great  joy  by  her  lord;  and  prepnmtions  were  instantly  commenced  fot 
her  coronation,  which  was  appoititeil  to  take  place  in  tliat  city  on  Whit- 
Sundsy.*  The  great  festivals  of  the  church  appear  in  the  middle  agn 
lo  hnve  been  considered  by  the  English  as  peculiarly  auspicious  days  for 
llie  solemnization  of  coronations  and  marriages,  if  we  may  judge  l>y  the 
frequency  of  their  occurrence  at  Uiose  seasons.  Sunday  was  generally 
chosen  for  n  cnronationtlay. 

William,  who  had  been  exceedingly  anxious  to  share  his  newly 
acquired  honours  with  Matilda,  chose  to  be  re-crowned  at  the  same  tims, 
|fl  render  the  pAgeant  of  her  consecration  more  imposing;  and  farther  to 
conciliate  the  atfections  of  his  English  subjects,  he  repeated  for  the  secuod 
time  the  oath  by  which  he  engaged  to  govern  with  justice  and  modm- 
lion,  and  to  preserve  inviolate  that  great  piLlladiuni  of  English  liberty,  thi 
right  of  trial  by  jury.* 

This  coronation  was  far  more  splendid  than  that  which  had  preceded 
it  in  Westminster  Abbey,  at  William's  first  inauguration,  where  the  ■!>• 
cence  of  the  queen  and  her  ladies  deprived  the  ceremony  of  much  of  ia 
brilliancy,  and  the  alarming  conflagration  hy  which  it  was  intemipwd 
must  have  greatly  abridged  the  pomp  and  festivities  that  had  been  anii- 
cipntcd  on  that  occasion.  Here  everything  went  off  auspiciously.  Ii 
was  in  the  smiling  season  of  the  year,  when  the  days  were  long  and 
bright,  without  having  attained  to  the  oppressiveness  of  summer  lieaL 
The  company,  according  to  the  report  of  contemporary  historians,  wM 
exceedingly  numerous  and  noble ;  and  the  Conqueror,  who  a|ipt«is  to 
have  li««n  in  a  wonderfully  gracious  mood  on  that  day,  was  very  sprii^d* 
snd  facetious  on  the  occasion,  and  conferred  favours  on  all  whosolicilM. 
The  graceful  and  majestic  person  of  queen  Matilda,  and  the  number  mi 
beauty  of  her  line  children,  channed  the  populace,  and  every  one  pmtm 
was  delighted  with  the  order  and  regularity  with  which  lliis  sttractin 
pageant  was  conducted.' 

The  nobles  of  Normandy  attended  their  dachees  to  die  church ;  bat 

'  Oideiicus  Vitalii.  ■  Ibid. 

*FlotPnc(i  of  WmcMier.    S.  Dunelm.    M.  Weetminiur. 

*  jL  JJHoaliii.   tiaioa  CluDniclo.  'Hendema.  -^h 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDSmS*  45 

titer  the  cn>wn  was  placed  on  her  head  by  Aldred,  archbishop  of  York, 
she  was  served  by  her  new  subjects,  the  English. 

The  first  occasion  on  which  the  office  of  champion  was  instituted,  is 
said  to  have  been  at  this  splendid  coronation  at  Winchester,  where  Wil- 
tiam  caused  his  consort  to  be  associated  with  himself,  in  all  the  honours 
<tf  royalty.' 

The  splendid  ceremonial  of  Matilda's  inauguration  banquet  afforded 
precedents  for  most  of  the  grand  feudal  offices  at  subsequent  corona- 
tions.' Among  these,  the  office  of  grand  pannetier  has  been  for  some 
time  extinct  His  service  was  to  b^  the  salt  and  the  carving-knives 
from  the  pantry  to  the  king's  dining-table,  and  his  fees  weie  the  salt- 
cellars, spoons,  and  knives  laid  on  the  royal  table ;  ^  forks  were  not 
among  the  royal  luxuries  at  the  board  of  the  mighty  William  and  his 
fiiir  Matilda,  who  both,  in  feeding  themselves,  verified  the  proverb  which 
says  ^that  fingers  were  made  before  forks.'"  ^The  grand  pannetier 
likewise  served  the  bread  to  the  sovereigns,  and  received,  in  addition  to 
the  rest  of  his  fees,  the  bread-cover,  called  the  cover-pane.  For  this 
service  the  Beauchamps  held  the  manor  of  Beauchamp  Kib worth.  The 
manor  of  Addington  was  likewise  granted  by  the  Conqueror  to  Tezelin, 
his  cook,  for  composing  a  dish  of  white  soup  called  diUegrout,  which 
especially  pleased  the  royal  palate." 

**  When  the  noble  company  had  retired  from  the  church,  and  were 
seated  at  dinner  in  the  banqueting  hall,"  says  Henderson,  in  his  life  of 
(he  Conqueror,  ^a  bold  cavalier  called  Marmion,'  completely  armed, 
rode  into  the  hall,  and  did  at  three  several  times  repeat  this  chal- 
lenge:— 

^  If  any  person  denies  that  our  most  gracious  sovereign,  Lord  William, 
and  his  spouse  Matilda,  are  not  king  and  queen  of  England,  he  is  a  false- 
hearted traitor  and  a  liar ;  and  here  I,  as  champion,  do  challenge  him  to 
single  combat" 

No  person  accepted  the  challenge,  and  Matilda  was  called  la  reine 
ever  after. 

The  same  year,  BCatOda  brought  into  the  world  her  fourth  son,  Henry, 
sumamed  Beauderk.  This  event  took  place  at  Selby,  in  Yorkshire,  and 
was  prodnctive  of  some  degree  of  satisfaction  to  the  people,  who  consi- 
dered the  English-bom  prince  with  far  more  complacency  than  his  three 
Norman  brethren,  Robert,  Richard,  and  William  Rufus.  Matilda  settled 
upon  her  new-bom  son  all  the  lands  she  possessed  in  England  and  Nor- 
mandy; they  were  to  revert  to  him  after  her  death. 

Tranquillity  now  appeared  to  be  completely  restored ;  and  Matilda, 

'flendenoo.  'Glories  of  Regality. 

*  Henderaon  inaootumtely  tays  Dymock ;  it  was  Marmion.  This  ceremony,,  un- 
known among  the  Saxon  monarohs,  was  of  Norman  origin.  The  lands  of  Fon- 
tenaye,  in  Nonnandy,  were  held  by  Marmion,  one  of  the  followers  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  on  the  tenure  of  championship.  The  office  was  hereditary  in  the 
frmily  of  Ah|2B[ioD,  and  fh>m  them,  by  heirship,  descended  to  the  Dymocks  of 
ScriTtf^ljibye.— See  Dugdale.  The  armorial  bearings  of  the  Marmions,  from  the 
performance  of  this  great  feudal  service,  were,  sable,  an  arming  sword,  the  ^ini 
in  chief  argents— Glories  of  Regality. 


MATILDA    OP    FL\M)EBS. 

F  n^nyin^  every  hsppinea*  ■»  a  wifp,  a  mniher.  and  a  queen,  secntpd  \n 
be  plnceil  at  the  very  autnmil  of  earthly  prosperity. 

Whnlher  tl  be  by  utciilent,  or  owing  to  a  close  aitenlion  lo  ihr  rmliii- 
Iie  Mw  before  him,  il  is  certain  that  the  antique  limner  who  drevi  Matii* 
da's  portraili  has  reprexented  the  organ  ol'  construe liveneM  in  her  lind* 
Ki  very  decldcclly  developed.  U  is  singular,  loo,  thai  of  (his  propensity, 
tier  laates  and  pursuiia  aflbrded  remarkable  instances,  in  the  noble  ecele- 
■ia«ticnl  bnitdings  of  which  she  was  ihe  foundress ;  and  In  her  iiii^eiiioiH 
Kod  trurioiis  example  of  indnsiry.  in  the  Bajeux  lapeslry,  wherein  *h* 
has  wrought  the  epic  of  her  husband's  exploits,  from  Harold's  first  lwid> 
ing  in  Normandy  lo  his  Hill  at  Hastings. 

!i  is,  in  fact, n  most  important  historical  document,  in  which  the  evenU 
and  costume  of  that  momentous  period  have  been  fbiihrully  presrtvnl  te 
us,  by  the  indefatigable  fingers  of  the  lirst  of  our  Norman  queens,  and 
certainly  deserves  a  parlieuliir  description. 

This  curious  monument  of  antiquity  is  still  preserved  in  ihe  catbedtd 
of  BayeUK,  where  it  is  distinguished  by  ihe  name  of  -^  the  duke  of  Nor- 
niandy's  toilette  ,-"  which  simply  means  the  duke's  ^real  eloili. 

It  is  a  piece  of  canvas,  about  nineteen  inches  in  breadih,  but  upwanh 
of  sixty-seven  yards  in  length,  on  which,  as  we  have  said,  is  cmhroidemi 
the  liislory  of  the  Conquest  of  England  hy  William  of  Nunnimdy,  com- 
piencing  with  ihe  visit  of  Harold  to  the  Norman  court,  and  ending  with 
his  deaili  at  the  baule  of  Hastings,  1 060, 

The  leading  transactions  of  these  eventful  yeare,  the  dealh  of  Elilwari 
the  Confessor,  and  the  coronation  of  Harold,  in  the  chamber  of  tlie  ruyil 
dead,  are  represenied  in  the  clearest  and  most  regular  order,  in  this  pieM 
of  needlework,  which  contains  many  hundred  dgures  of  uien.  horaes, 
birdii,  beasts,  trees,  houses,  castle?,  and  churches,  all  executed  in  their 
proper  colours,  with  names  and  inscriptions  over  ihcm,  to  elucidate  thf 
■ton-.' 

I'hia  pictorial  chronicle  of  lier  mighty  consort's  achievements  n|^Maa 

'TUa  Bafcux  taj>e»iTy  lisi  Intel]'  brrn  mur^ti  liie  fulypcl  of  mntrovprsjr  udooi 
nme  Imriinl  iiulivulunl>,  who  tuo  ilomrmined  to  Hcpriro  MoiiMii  iiC  l.-'r  i^iil^- 
I  Ikiaiuy  fiUDF,  as  liic  pciwn  Bvni  wlicim  Uiis  yjifcimsu  ofreniBle  eL." 

notu.!.  MonUkuaiui,  Tliierry.  Plmiirhe,  DiHtatc<l.  Tariw,  n;, 
I  Bqintlf  nn[>ortaoisuiliuriii»,  maybequDied  in  support  of  tlie  hi--i'  . 
I  mi  it  vat  the  work  ol'  Malilda  aad  Iier  lailiei.  The  brief  liiij<  - 
t  are  iinnftned  in  tli««e  Bingrnpliiea,  will  nol  admil  of  our  cnieriDC  >i. 

W  or  tbMs  who  dirpute  the  flKi,  thooiih  we  have  esnnillf  einriiiri>-<l  thfi^; 
witli  due  durereiKa  to  the  judifinnil  of  the  lorH*  fyf  tlie  oreatkni.  on  all  «b>     I 
I  jmh  Dcunvaled  wiih  pDlirjr  and  aaioua?,  we  vponire  u  tbiak  aur  Inunad  frlswk    | 
iicbiKiUigiiU  and  antiqiMriei,  would  do  well  in  direct  ihrir   i<ii(-iii..'ii;ii1 
n  lt>  mice  maaouline  objMits  uf  inquiry,  and  lMVpiliFqiiEfti.->:i  ' 

bpntrjr,  (wiib  aJl  oibot  matter*  allipil  lo  uudle-craft,)  to  ihe  ' 
Mies  to  whoH  piVTioRe  ii  peuubarly  balou^i.  Ii  is  manet  of  i<'  < 
ttirr  ono  out  of  Ihs  majif  gaiitlomeii  who  b»e  diipated  UatiUii  .- 
work.  If  called  upoa  to  axevule  *  copy  of  either  of  ihe  figures  on  >. 
inow  how  10  put  ill  ilw  fliei  itjuh.  The  whole  of  the  Beyeui  Upi'nir 
roElntrrl,  and  ttoknifcd  like  the  onglnnl.  by  ihe  Sociely  at  Aritii|uaTios,  whs, 
(liry  liad  done  nottiins  «)>b  to  merii  the  appiubabou  of  the  hisiaricBl  world, 
r  i>*»  i/itawitJ  il  Hw  this  atane. 


•rha,ir    I 

i 


MATILDA    OF    PLANDBB8.  4T 

to  have  been,  in  part  at  least,  designed  for  Matilda  by  Tnrold,  a  dwarf 
inist,  who,  moved  by  a  natural  desire  of  claiming  his  share  in  the  cele- 
brity which  he  foresaw  would  attach  to  the  work,  has  cunningly  intro- 
duced his  own  effigies  and  name,  tHus  authenticating  the  Norman  tradi- 
tion, that  he  was  the  person  who  illuminated  the  canvas  with  the  proper 
outlines  and  colours.' 

It  is  probable  that  the  wife  of  the  Conqueror,  and  her  Norman  ladies, 
were  materially  assisted  in  this  stupendous  work  of  feminine  skill  and 
patience,  by  some  of  the  hapless  daughters  of  the  land,  who,  like  the 
Grecian  captives  described  by  Homer,  were  employed  in  recording  the 
story  of  their  own  reverses,  and  the  triumphs  of  their  haughty  foes. 

About  this  period  William  laid  the  foundation  of  that  mighty  fortress 
and  royal  residence,  the  Tower  of  London,  which  was  erected  by  a 
priestly  architect  and  engineer,  Gundulph,  bishop  of  Rochester.  He  also 
built  the  castle  of  Hurstmonceaux,  on  tlie  spot  which  had,  in  the  first 
insttince,  been  occupied  by  tlie  wooden  fort  which  he  had  brought  over 
from  Normandy,  and,  for  the  better  security  of  his  government,  built  and 
strongly  garrisoned  many  other  strong  fortresses,  forming  a  regular  chain 
of  military  stations,  from  one  end  of  England  to  the  other.'  These  pro- 
ceedings were  regarded  with  jealous  displeasure,  by  such  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  nobles  as  had  hitherto  maintained  a  sort  of  passive  amity  with  . 
their  Norman  sovereign,  and  they  began  gradually  to  desert  his  court. 
Among  the  first  to  withdraw  from  the  royal  circle  were  the  mighty  Saxon 
brethren,  Edwin  and  Morcar.  They  were  the  darlings  of  the  people, 
and  secretly  favoured  by  the  clergy.  A  third  part  of  England  was  under 
their  authority,  and  the  reigning  prince  of  Wales  was  their  nephew. 
William  had  in  the  first  instance  endeavoured,  by  the  most  insidious 
caresses^  to  conciliate  Edwin,  who  was  the  youngest  of  the  two,  and 
remarkable  for  the  beauty  of  his  person,  and  his  noble  and  engas^ing 
qualities.  The  Conqueror  had  actually  promised  to  give  him  one  of  his 
daughters  in  marriage.'  When,  however,  the  young  nobleman  demanded 
his  bride,  he  met  with  a  denial,  at  which  he  was  so  much  exasperated, 
that  he  retired  with  his  brother  into  the  north,  where  they  organized  a 
plan  with  the  kings  of  Scotland  and  Denmark,  and  the  princes  of  Wales, 
for  separate  but  simultaneous  attacks  upon  William,  in  which  the  disaf- 
ferfecl  Saxons  were  to  join.  The  prompt  and  energetic  measures  of  the 
Conqueror  defeated  their  projects  before  they  could  be  brought  to  matu- 
rity ;  the  brother  earls  were  compelled  to  sue  for  pardon,  and  obtained 
a  deceitful  amnesty. 

'  I1:icrry'8  History  of  the  Anglo-Normans.  Tlie  figures  were,  in  foot,  always 
preparefl  fot  tapestry  work  by  some  skilful  artist,  who  designed  and  traced  them 
ont  in  tlie  same  colours  tlint  were  to  be  used  in  silk  or  woollen  by  the  cmbroi* 
d4"ress ;  and  we  are  told  in  the  life  of  St  Dunstan,  **  that  a  certain  religious  lady, 
beinir  moved  with  a  desire  of  embroidering  a  sacerdotal  vestment,  earnestly  en- 
trcat'.*d  tlic  future  chancellor  of  England,  who  was  tlien  a  young  man  in  an  ob« 
icuTv  <tatioD  of  life,  but  creeping  into  notice  through  his  excellent  taste  in  such 
delineations,  to  draw  the  flowers  and  figures  which  she  aflerwards  formed  wiiL 
thr«*atU  of  gold.*' 

'  At  Norwich,  Warwick,  Lincoln,  York,  Nottingham,  dui.  dio. 

'Ordericus  Vitalis. 


I 

I 


I 


KATILDA     OF    FLArfDERB. 

The  roprated  snil  ronniclable  revolts  of  the  English,  in  1000,  compellfd 
Willisjii  lo  provide  for  the  Jarety  of  Maiililit  and  her  children  in  Nor- 
mandy.' The  presence  of  the  queen-du chess  WBf<,  indeed,  no  le!<s  re- 
quired ihere,  than  thai  of  her  warlike  lord  in  England.  She  was  greatly 
beloved  in  llie  duchy,  where  her  government  was  considered  exceedingly 
able,  and  the  people  were  beginning  to  murmur  at  the  absence  of  ihe 
courl  and  the  nobility,  which,  aAer  the  stales  of  Normandy  hail  been  m 
■ererely  laicd  lo  snpitori  the  expense  of  the  English  wars,  was  regarded 
»  a  national  calamity.  It  was  therefore  s  measure  of  great  political 
expediency  on  the  part  of  William,  lo  re-appoint  Matilda,  for  the  thin! 
time,  to  the  regency  of  Normandy.  The  nuine  of  his  eldest  son,  Robert, 
wa»,  as  before,  associated  with  that  of  Matilda  in  the  regency ;  and  at 
parting,  the  Conqneror  entreated  his  spouse  "  to  pray  for  the  speedy  (er- 
roination  of  the  English  troubles,  to  encourage  the  arts  of  peace  in  Nor- 
mandy, and  to  take  care  of  the  intercsLi  of  tlieir  youthful  heir." ' 

The  latter  injonction  was  somewhat  superfluous;  for  Matilda's  fond- 
aem  tor  her  firsi-born  betrayed  her  into  the  most  injudicious  acts  of 
partiality  in  his  favour,  and  in  all  probability  was  the  primary  cause  of 
Uie  dissensions  between  him  and  his  brothers,  and  the  subsequent  nip- 
lure  between  that  wrong-headed  prince  and  his  royal  father. 
.  The  death  of  the  eaii  of  Flanders,  Matilda's  father,  and  the  unsettled 
BKte  oif  her  native  country,  owing  to  the  strife  between  her  brothers  and 
nephewn,  who  appeared  beni  on  effeciing  the  ruin  of  each  other,  ami  the 
bll  of  the  ancient  royal  house  of  Flanders,  greatly  troubled  her,  and 
added  in  do  slight  degree  to  the  feelings  of  anxiety  and  sorrow  with 
which  her  return  to  Normandy  was  clouded,  after  \he  brief  eplendooT 
of  hrr  re!<idence  in  England  as  queen.' 

The  year  11)09  was  a  season  of  peculiar  misery  in  Endand.*  The 
breaking  np  of  the  court  at  Winchester,  and  the  departure  of  queen  Ma- 
tilda and  her  children  for  Normandy,  cast  a  deep  gloom  on  the  aspect 
of  William's  alSiirs,  while  il  was  felt  as  a  serious  evil  by  the  industrious 
classes,  whose  prosperity  depended  on  the  encouragement  extended  lo 
iheir  handiworks,  by  the  demands  of  the  rich  and  powerful,  for  those 
articles  of  adornment  and  luxur%-,  in  the  fabrication  of  which  many  hawb 
are  profiiably  employed,  employment  being  equivalent  to  wealth  with 
those  whose  time,  ingenuity,  or  strength,  can  be  brought  into  the  market 
in  any  tangible  form.  But  where  there  is  no  custom,  it  is  useless  to  lai 
the  powers  of  the  ciaflsman  or  artisan  to  produce  articles  which  aia  no 
longer  required.  This  was  the  case  in  England  from  the  year  I0S9. 
when,  the  queen  and  ladies  of  the  court  having  quitted  Ihe  country,  trade 
languished,  employment  ceased,  and  the  horrors  of  civil  war  were  aggn- 
valed  by  the  distress  of  a  starving  population.  The  most  peaceably  dis- 
posed were  goaded  by  their  sufierings  to  desperation. 

It  was,  according  to  most  accounts,  in  this  year  that  William,  lo  p«- 
rent  tlie  people  c?  the  land  from  confederating  together  in  nocmtntl 
aesemblies,  for  the  purpose  of  discussing  their  grievances,  and  sttmaltt- 


MATILDA    OF    PIANDSBS. 

mg  each  other  to  revolt,  compelled  them  to  couorefeu^  or  to  extiiiguisl) 
the  lights  and  firei  io  tlieir  dwellings,  at  eight  o'clock  every  evening,  ai 
the  tolling  of  a  bell,  called,  from  that  circumstance,  the  curfew,  or  cou-^ 
TTtfeu}  Such,  at  any  rate,  has  been  the  popular  tradition  of  ages,  and 
traces  of  the  custom  in  many  places  still  remain.  The  curfew  has 
become  so  thoroughly  identified  with  the  institutions  of  William  the 
Conqueror,  that  we  doubt  not  it  originated  with  him,  especially  as  there 
is  great  reason  to  believe  that  he  had  previously  resorted  to  the  same 
measure,  in  his  early  career  as  duke  of  Normandy,  to  secure  the  better 
observance  of  his  famous  edict  for  the  suppression  of  bmwls  and  mur- 
ders in  his  dominions,  called  emphatically  ^  God's  peace." ' 

When  Williaro  took  the  field  aAer  Matilda's  departure,  and  commenced 
one  of  his  rapid  marches  towards  York,  where  Waltheof  had  encouraged 
the  Danish  army  to  winter,  he  swore  ^  by  the  splendour  of  God,"  his 
usual  oath,  that  he  would  not  leave  one  living  soul  in  Northumberland. 
As  soon  as  he  entered  Yorkshire,  he  began  to  execute  his  terrible  threats 
of  vengeance,  laying  the  whole  country  waste  with  fire  and  sword. 
Afler  he  had  bribed  the  Danish  chief  to  withdmw,  and  the  long  defended 
city  of  York  was  surrendered  at  discretion  by  Waltheof,  he  won  that 
powerful  Saxon  leader  to  his  cause,  by  bestowing  upon  him  in  marriage 
Lb  beautiful  niece  Judith. 

These  fittal  nuptials  were  solemnized  among  the  ruins  of  the  van- 
quished city  of  York,  where  the  Conqueror  kept  his  Christmas,  amidst 
the  desolation  he  had  wrought.' 

Not  to  enter  into  the  melancholy  details  of  William's  work  of  devas- 
tation in  the  north  of  England,  which  are  so  pathetically  recorded  by  the 
Saxon  Qironide,  we  will  close  the  brief  annals  of  the  direful  years  1070 
ind  1071,  with  the  death  of  earl  Edwin,  the  affianced  husband  of  one  o{ 
Lhe  daughters  of  the  Conqueror  and  Matilda.  He  was  proceeding  from  YXy 
to  Scotland,  charged,  as  was  supposed,  with  a  secret  mission  from  his 
lisinherited  countrymen  to  the  king  of  Scots,  when  his  route  was  be- 
;nyed  by  three  brothers  in  whom  he  had  rashly  confided,  and,  af\er  a 
raliant  defence  against  a  band  of  Normans,  he  was  slain,  with  twenty  of 
Its  followers.  His  death  was  passionately  bewailed  by  the  English,  and 
!ven  the  stem  nature  of  the  Conqueror  was  melted  into  compassion,  and 
ie  is  said  to  have  shed  tears  wlien  the  bleeding  head  of  the  young  Seocon, 
irith  its  long  flowing  hair,  was  presented  to  him  by  the  traitors,  who 
lad  beguiled  him  into  the  Norman  ambush ;  and,  instead  of  conferring 
iie  expected  reward  on  the  murderers,  he  condenmed  them  to  perpetual 
sxile.* 

A  singular  curiosity  was  turned  up  by  the  plough,  1004,  in  a  field 
lear  Sutton,  in  the  Isle  of  Ely,  where  Edwin  and  Morcar  are  said  to 
lire  met  It  is  a  small  shield  of  silver,  about  six  inches  long.  On  it 
a  Saxon  inscription,  which  has  been  found  to  express  that  it  had  the 


'  Speed.    It  was  first  established  at  Winchester.    Cassan^s  Lives  of  the  Bishops 
»f  Winchester.    Pol jdore  Vergil  is  tlie  first  chronicler  who  mentions  the  curfew. 

'Ordericns  Vitalis.    The  curfew  is  still  tolled  in  some  distriou  of  Norroaody, 
rfaera  it  is  called  »£a  ISciratfs."— -Docarel. 

•Matthew  Paris.  « Ordericns  Vhalii,  p.  821,^-3  lE^rani'BMKi. 

TOL.J.  — iJ  p 


I 


I 


60  HATILDA    of    FLANDERS.  ^M 

double  property,  of  protecting  ihe  person  wlio  wore  il,  and  ihe  lotcr  Tot 
wlioae  sake  it  was  worn.  If  it  belonged  to  ihe  young  earl  Edwin,  ii 
WI19  pcrhnps  a  relumed  love-pleilge  rrooi  the  beiroihed  princess.' 

The  Saxon  biahops  hod  stood  forth  ss  ehampionB  for  the  rights  anj 
anfiieiil  Inws  of  the  people ;  anil  William,  finding  it  imposaible  to  awe  or 
silence  these  ime  patriots,  proceeded  to  deprive  them  of  their  beneficee, 
end  to  plunder  the  churches  and  monasteries  without  ecrujile;  and, 
according  to  the  report  of  Roger  Wendover,  and  other  ancient  chroni- 
tiers,  he  appropriated  to  his  own  use  all  the  chalices  and  rich  shrinea  on 
which  he  could  lay  his  hands.' 

It  was  in  rain  for  the  English  clergy  to  appeal  to  the  Romsn  poniiff 
for  prDi«ctiDn ;  for  William  was  nipporled  by  the  authority  of  the  new 
system  of  churcli  govenunent  adopted  by  the  Nomian  bishops,  which 
was  to  deprive  the  people  of  the  use  of  tlie  Scriptures  in  the  Snxnn 
tongue;  thereby  rendering  one  of  the  best  anil  noblest  legacies  be- 
qucKihed  to  them  by  that  royal  reformer,  king  Alfred,  —  the  trvnBlalioD 
commenced  by  hiui  of  the  Word  of  God. — a  dead  letter.  It  also  became 
an  understood  thing,  that  no  scholar,  of  English  birth,  was  to  be  admit- 
ted  to  any  degree  of  ecclesiastical  preferment.* 

The  Norman  language  was  at  that  lime  introduced,  by  ro^'nl  autho- 
rity, into  all  schools,  colleges,  and  public  foundations  for  the  iastnictian 
of  youth.  The  laws  and  statutes  of  the  country  were  written  in  tliu 
language,  and  no  other  was  permitted  to  be  used  in  courts  of  justice,  to 
the  great  perplexity  and  vexation  of  the  people  of  the  land,  who  wera 
thus  under  the  necessity  of  employing  Nonnan  advocates  to  plead  for 
redress  against  the  wrongs  of  Normans.* 

The  luckless  SaxoDs  were,  of  course,  sure  to  obtain  more  law  thaa 
jtwlice  in  such  cases,  being  for  the  most  part  wholly  unconscinua  of  the 
purport  of  the  proceedings ;  so  that  unless  they  had  the  good  fortune  to 


"Edwiani  me  pignori  dat; 
Ilia,  O  DomiDe.  Dominev 
Cum  Mniper  defeadat, 
QaiB  me  ad  pecliu  <uum  griMl, 
Niii  ilia  nic  ■lienavorii 
Sua  ■pontc.'' 
Edwin  hi)  pledge  liai  ]ett  in  me, 

Now  u>  the  baitle  presi ; 

if  gunnliin  angel  mayiAt  be, 

Wbo  woui  me  on  hot  breast. 


To  bim  the  tnie-heaiteiJ  ma)'  the  prove, 
OGo(l,  lolbee  I  pny: 
Ai  ihii  talinnan  wu  found  where  earl  Edwin  Tell, 
tati  beiud  of^  ci 

the  laily  lie  loved,  wlio  had,  in  all  ptol»biliiy,  bcrn 
'  1 ORU  Iphua.      Malrn,btiir>     Brom  pUm . 
■  InKuIphiu.      HalkcL     Eadmer.     Saion  Annali. 
•iatui^nr.    UalieL    PalyJote  Teitpl.    Milli.    Bcsdy. 


But  it  fDrgeifnl  of  her  vowi, 
(May  Heaven  avert  ihe  iLodkUI*) 

Sim  lell  ihii  love.chann  orhet*pauM 
Wliich  never  coald  be  bou^^ 


IT  of  her  own  free  wit 

This  talis  man  away 
Mny  Edwin'i  life  no  [onger  Ui^ 

To  rue  thai  fatal  day." 


Ul!) 

i 


IT,  Bt  least,  where  he  « 
I  poueisioD  of 


MATILDA    OF    FLAV 


(Into  the  hands  of  very  conscientious  Norman  pleatlera,  they  wei 
Bccd  lo  ihe  superior  interesi  of  iheir  opponents,  nnd,  for  aught  ihsi 
d  w\\  to  the  cootrery,  liie  advocates  wliom  ihey  hod  paiil  migh^ 
■  rmployed  their  eloquence  on  the  contrary  side,  or,  at  the  least,  ' 
brtnying  nil  the  weaker  points  of  their  clients'  causes. 

It  yna  the  earaest  desire  of  our  Norman  sovereigns  lo  silence  th( 
Suton  tongue  for  ever,  by  substituting  in  its  place  the  Normal)  dialed 
vbtch  was  a  mistare  of  French  and  Danish.'  It  was,  however,  fount. , 
to  be  a  more  easy  thing  to  subjugaie  the  land,  than  to  suppress  the  natu-', 
ml  language  of  the  people,  k  change  was  all  that  could  be  eflecled, 
am)  (hat  change  was  on  amnlgBmaiion  between  the  two  languages,  tha 
%  i  mians  grxiiially  acquiring  as  many  of  the  Saxon  words  and  idioma 
:li(?  Anglo-Saxons  were  compelled  lo  use  of  theirs.  Letin  was  used 
.  ilie  Irumed  as  a  general  medium  of  communication,  and  thus  became, 
111  A  (light  degree,  mingled  with  the  parlance  of  the  more  refined  portion 
I'l  nieteEy.  From  these  mingled  elements  our  own  copious  and  expressivs 
IsDgiugc  was  in  process  of  time  formed. 

(>nr  of  the  Conqueror's  moat  diffieuit  undertakings  was  the  reduction, 
'  f  the  Ifle  of  Ely.  which  had  been  fortified  with  the  most  consummate 
ilitary  skill,  by  llio  Saxon  patriot,  Herewanl,  who  was  accounted  one 
!'  ihe  bravest  champions  and  most  accomplished  leaders. 
Tlif  unsettled  slate  of  England  had  the  efleci  of  dividing  William 
,   ,,-  I. .loved  queen,  and  forced  them  for  a  considerable  lime  to 
— he  in  England,  and  she  in  Normandy. 

meantime,  who  appears  to  have  possessed  no  inconsiderabla, 
.  ilie  art  of  government,  had  conducted  the  regency  of  Nop- 
iniJy,  ihiring  oil  tlie  troubles  in  which  her  lord  was  involved,  with 
.-^1  nnideneeand  address.  She  had  been  placed  in  a  position  of  pecu- 
ir  difficulty,  in  consequence  of  the  revolt  of  the  provinre  of  Maine, 
-r.it  the  combined  hostilities  of  the  king  of  France  and  the  duke  of  Bre- 
iL'Tip,  nho  had  taken  advantage  of  the  manner  in  which  William  wwi, 
'i-apied  with  the  Scotch  invasion  and  the  Sason  revolt,  to  attack  hb^ 
iiiincnui]  dominions;  and  Matilda  was  compelled  to  apply  to  her' 
'■•vja  lord  for  succour.  William  immediately  despatched  the  son  of 
'  iz-0«botn  to  assbt  his  fair  regent  in  her  military  arrangemenia  for  iho 

'  VThito  ibe  Provenful  languagfl  waa  yec  in  iu  iiiAiiiGr  in  Iha  Souih  of  Franae, 
'  Ranwice  WhIIooq,  or  Lalin.  corrupted  by  Gurniau,  u'hs  lbs  dialtrui  ipukeii 
1^  Konli  of  Franee,  and,  wilh  a  further  iniiiuiB  of  None,  becnme  Iho  polite 
.  A  lartieal  laJigunge  of  the  ducal  court  of  Narmandy.     It  woa  called  the  langitt 
u,  <n  u>ii£uc   of  Dili,  from   its  alBrmative.     Tlie  appellBtioo  of  WbIIooii   was 
;!;•*(  from  Ihs  word  Waalchland,  the  name  by  which  Iho  Gecmaiu  to  this  dsy 
nup  iHily.      William  the  Conqupror  waa  to  murJi  attached  to  tta«  Rnmiiiica 
am,  ttiai  be  encouraged  in  litcmuie  amoa;;  liu  lubjcnia,  snJ  Ibrceil  il  un  -i 
!acl>*li  by  means  of  rigorous  snictmcnis,  in  place  of  tlie  aaciDQI  Saion,    J 
b  elowlf  rnemblcd   lh«  Norse  of  liii  awu  auceeloto.     It  was  IVoin  Nat<    I 
Madf  that  Iho  flni  poeu  in  the  French  language  tprang.     A  djgcn  of  the  Inuri 
•kM  William  irapoted  on  hii  Eiigli«li  subjocu,  is  iho  most  ancient  work  eiisi- 
kvklbcBonianMi  Walloon.     Then  Ihe  Book  of  Biut,  a  rabuloiis  hiiiory  of  tliu 
*"    as;  asxt  Woee't  Romuioe  da  Ron,  oi  Hiitory  nf  Hollo:   Ibe  word  ramann 
imt  namtive,  and  not  a  Action. 


i 


I 


I 


MATILDA    OF    PLAKDERS.  ^ 

defence  of  Normandy,  and  eipedilcJ  a  prate  ivith  tite  king  o[  Scotland, 
tlial  he  might  the  sooner  cothb  lo  her  aid  iii  person,  with  his  veteran 

The  Nonnan  ladies  were  at  that  period  extremely  mBlcanteiil  at  the 
long-protracted  abBence  of  their  lords.'  The  wife  of  Hugh  GranimesDil, 
the  govemor  of  Winchester,  had  causeJ  tliem  great  uneasiness,  by  the 
reports  which  she  had  circulateil  of  ihe  infidelities  of  their  husbands. 
These  representations  had  induced  the  indignant  dames  to  send  peremp- 
tory inestages,  for  the  immediate  retiini  of  their  lords.  In  some  instances 
liie  warlike  Nonnans  had  yielded  obedience  to  ttieso  conjugal  laandates, 
and  rMurned  home,  greatly  to  the  prejudice  of  William's  ai&irti  in  Eng- 
land. This  was  the  aim  of  ihri  lady  of  Grantmesnil,  who  had  for  some 
reason  conceived  a  particular  ill-will  against  her  sovereign;  and,  tiol 
contented  with  doing  everything  in  her  power  to  incite  his  Norman  sub- 
jects to  revolt,  she  had  thought  proper  to  cast  the  most  injurious  aspei^ 
eions  on  his  cliaracter  aa  a  husbajid,  and  ioainuaied  that  lie  luid  made  an 
attempt  on  her  virtue.' 

Giiha,  the  mother  of  Harold,  eagerly  caught  at  these  reports,  which 
she  a  said  to  have  taken  great  pleasure  in  circulating.  She  communi- 
caled  them  to  Sweuo,  king  of  Denmark,  and  added,  thai  the  reason  why 
31erle3wen,  a  Kentish  noble  of  some  importance,  had  joined  the  laic 
revolt  in  England,  was,  because  the  Xorman  tyrant  had  dishonoured  his 
lair  niece,  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  canons  of  Conierburj','  This  tale, 
whether  false  or  true,  came  in  due  course  to  Malilda^s  ears,  and  caused 
the  first  conjugal  diOerencc  that  had  ever  arisen  between  her  and  her  lord. 
She  waa  by  no  means  of  a  temper  to  take  any  affront  of  the  kind 
patiently,  and  it  is  said  ihal  she  caused  the  unfortunate  damsel  la  he  put 
to  death,  with  circumstances  of  great  cruelty.*  Heame,  in  his  notes  to 
Robert  of  Gloucester,  furnishes  us  with  a  curious  sequel  to  this  tale, 
extracted  from  a  very  ancient  chronicle  among  the  Cottonian  MSS^ 
which,  aAer  relating  "  that  the  priest's  daughter  was  privily  slaia  b 
confidential  servant  of  MaliUla,  the  queen,"  adds,  "  tliat  the  ConqiM 
was  so  enraged  at  the  barbarous  revenge  taken  by  his  queen,  tlialj 
his  return  to  Normandy,  lie  beat  her  with  his  bridle  so  severely,  i  _^^ 
she  soon  after  died.^'  Now,  it  is  certain  Matilda  lived  full  leu  yeus 
aAer  the  period  at  which  this  matrimonial  discipline  is  said  to  have  been 
inflicted  upon  her  by  the  strong  arm  of  the  Conqueror;  and  the  worthy 
chronicler  himself  seems  to  regard  that  part  of  the  tale  as  apocryphal, 
and  merely  relate*  it  as  one  of  the  current  reports  of  the  day.  We  are 
willing  to  hope  that  the  sioiy  altogether  has  originated  from  the  scnn- 
dolous  reports  of  that  malign  busy-body  of  the  eleventh  century,  the 
lady  Grantmesnil;  though  at  the  same  time  it  is  lo  be  feared,  that  H 
woman  who  waA  capable  of  inJUciing  such  deadly  vengeance  on.^ 


Uiatiji^^ 


'  Onl«rietis  Viulii.    Mnlmsbuiy.  '  Henderson.    Oideii 

'  HendetMn'i  Liiit  of  ihi?  Conqueror.     Ii  must  lie  lemembeted  that  tli«  n 
nagpi  of  the  Enitlish  clergy  were  slloired  hj  ihe  Angl^^uoa  Catliolle  C 
a  quaner  of  ■  cetimiy  BHerwanli. 
■uwtl  Kbi  u  be  hanuinuig. — Rapin.     Eradenan  h;*  Hslilda  oi^fvad 


X  A  T  I  ).  D  A 


FLANDERS 


nofortDMt^  Saxon  nobleman  who  had  been  ihe  objecl  of  her  earliest  s 
fivtioiu,  wouM  ntil  have  heen  very  scrupulous  in  her  dealingB  with 
iVidmIp  whom  she  siupceted  of  having  rivalled  her  in  hor  husband's  r^^ 
gnrd.  At  tliis  distance  of  time  it  is  impossible,  after  most  careful  inve«- 
ligpitiiin,  tO  speak  with  any  certainty,  as  to  the  degree  of  credit  which 
may  be  attar.h«d  to  this  dark  talc ;  but  as  il  is  recorded  by  several  of  ihe 
(ilil«st  clironiclerv.  it  becomes  a  matter  of  duty  in  the  biographers  of 
MalilJa  of  Flanders  to  relate  it,  and  leave  the  readers  to  form  likeir  own 

William  was  attended,  on  his  voyage  to  Normandy,  by  a  great  mili- 
ury  retinue;  matiy  English  aa  well  as  Norman  troops  accompanieJ 
hiiD,'  and  performed  good  service  for  him,  in  the  reduction  of  the  rebel 
pt»>vm«  of  Maine.  The  king  of  France  made  a  liasty  retreat  before  the 
WTor  of  his  ^vB^lil(.e  neighbour's  arms,  and  peace  was  quickly  restored 

rcle  of  William's  continental  dominions. 

le  of  anger  or  mistrust  liad  occurred,  during  their  long  sepa- 
ia,  to  interrupt  itie  conjugal  happiness  of  Matilda  and  her  husband, 
m  but  a  passing  cloud,  for  historians  all  agree  that  they  were  living 
her  in  a  ataie  of  the  moat  alTeciionBte  union,  during  the  year  1074, 
B  pun  of  which  was  spent  by  the  Conqueror  with  his  family  in  Nor- 
*  It  wns  at  this  period  that  Edgar  Aiheling  came  to  the  court  at 
J  make  a  voluntary  submisaion  to  the  Normau  sovereign,  and  to 
ia  forgiveness  for  the  several  insurrections  in  which  he  had  been 
The  Conqueror  freely  accorded  aa  amnesty,  treated  him  with 
ilness,  and  pensioned  him  with  a  daily  allowance  of  a  pound  of 
.  fi  the  hope  tliat  tliia  amicable  arrangemeut  would  secure  his 
'  iMiuBient  in  England  from  all  future  disturbances.  He  was  mistaken : 
nih  troubles  had  already  broken  out  in  that  quarter,  but  this  lime  they 
)racMil«l  from  his  own  tnrbulent  Norman  chiefs;  one  of  them,  willul, 
w»  Iha  eon  of  his  great  ftvourite  and  trusty  kinsman,  Filz-Osbom ;  who 
*Mdef(vted  and  taken  prisoner*  by  the  nobles  aud  prelates  of  Worcester. 
The  Dmiab  fleet,  which  had  vainly  hovered  on  the  cuaal,  waiting  for  a 
^mI  to  land  trwps  to  assist  the  conspirators,  was  fain  to  retreat  without 
weting  its  objecL  As  for  the  great  Sajton  earl,  Waltheof,  who  had 
^  dimwn  bto  the  plot,  and  betrayed  by  his  Norman  wife.  Judith,  to 
til  mxlt,  the  Conqueror,  he  was,  after  a  long  suspense,  beheaded  on  a 
{•ground,  jusi  without  the  gales  of  Winchealur ;  being  the  first 
' '       "    nan  who  had  died  by  the  band  of  a  public  executioner.' 


'Iliiri.    Malmfbuty,     Ssxaa  Annals. 


ilsLinslnny.     Brociiplon 

ion  Iff  bit  iovercign,  nud.  berorc  this  (ol  of  oontumwIJV 
A  CiTOUt.     He  was  oiil]'  puniilied  Willi  iiii|iIiMnmoni,  [o 
■cr,    Altrr  a  lime  Ids  royal  muier,  as  a  lokaa  thai  he 
him,  >cnl  liiiii  n  eotily  siiil  or  clolhes ;  but  FiO-Ogborn,  ii|' 
i»  pBlgfiir  ni'linnwIi^ilKmcnti  Tor  tliij  preunl,  ordered  a  ius* 
i,  f n  iha  prcMMu^  ur  ihp  moasvager,  tnimed  the  rii^li 

ilisoltinl  u]ireMiiint  of  coniempl.    Wiliinm  wiu  very 
W  in  wliieli  Ilia  luiwonieil  grBiiousnem  waj  received  by  hji 
II  inflictod  no  eeveiei  punittinicai  thiia  n  lengthened  tttm  of 
jlomlvraoii.  •Ordciicus  Vimlu. 


^.nnals.  ^^H 
intumwlj'il^^H 

t,rorbtoH 

il  he  WW  ^M 
■born,  ii|~  ^H 
^d  a  bust  ^1 
{(nnnenli, 


HATtLDA    OF    FLANDERS.  ^^ 

William  next  pursued  hig  Norman  irnitnr,  Ralph  Je  Gtiader,  to  Uie 
cnntinenl,  and  besie^  him  iu  the  cily  of  Dol,  where  he  had  taken  refiigc. 
The  young  duke  of  Bretagne,  Allan  Fergeant,  assisted  also  by  the  king 
of  Trance,  came  with  a  powerful  army  to  the  sutcour  of  the  besieged 
eorl ;  and  William  was  not  only  compelleil  in  raise  the  siege,  but  to 
Abandon  his  ifnis  and  baggage,  to  the  value  of  lilleen  thousand  pounds. 
Hi«  diplomatic  talents,  however,  enabled  him  to  extricate  himself  from 
(he  enibarrassing  stiaic  in  which  he  had  placed  himself;  and  a  pocilie 
ttcaiy  was  entered  into,  between  him  and  the  valiant  young  duke  of 
Brcingne,  the  conclusion  of  which  was  a  marriage  between  Alan  and  his 
daughter  Constance.  This  alliance  was  no  less  advantageous  lu  tlie 
princely  bridegroom,  than  agreeable  to  William  and  Matilda.  The  nup- 
tials were  celebrated  with  great  pomp,  and  ilic  bride  was  dowered  with 
all  the  lands  of  Chester,  once  the  possessions  of  the  unfortunate  eatl 
Edwin,  who  hod  formerly  been  coniracied  to  one  of  her  sisters.' 

At  the  close  of  this  year  died  Edilha,  the  widow  of  Edward  the  Con- 
fessor. She  had  retired  to  a  convent,  hut  was  treated  with  the  respect 
and  honour  of  a  queen-dowager,  and  was  buried  by  the  side  of  her  royal 
husband,  in  Westminster  Abbey.  She  was  long  survived  by  her  ^nfo^ 
tunate  sister-in-law,  Algilh,  the  widow  of  Harold,  llie  other  Saxon  queeu- 
dowager,  who,  having  had  woful  experience  of  the  calamities  of  great- 
ness, and  the  vanity  of  eanhly  disiinciions,  voluntarily  resigned  her  royal 
title,  and  passed  the  residue  of  her  days  in  obscurity. 

In  the  year  1075,  William  and  Mnlilda,  with  their  family,  kept  the 
festival  of  Easter  with  great  pomp,  at  Fescanip,  and  attended  in  person 
the  profession  of  their  eldest  daughter  Cicely,  who  was  there  veiled  ■ 
nun,  by  the  archbishop  John.'  "■  Tliis  royal  maid,"  says  Ordericus  Vh 
talis,  "*  had  been  educated  with  great  c«re,  in  the  convent  of  C«en,  when 
shr  was  instructed  in  all  the  learning  of  the  age,  and  several  aciencu 
She  was  consecrated  to  the  holy  and  indivisible  Trinity,  and  took  thi 
veil  under  the  venerable  abbess  Matilda,  and  faithfully  conformed  to  al 
the  rules  of  conventual  discipline.  Cicely  succeeded  this  abttess  in  hei 
ofHce,  havii:g,  for  fourteen  years,  maintained  the  highest  rcpuiation  for 
mnctily  and  wisdom.  From  the  moment  that  she  was  dedicated  to  God 
by  her  fiither,  she  became  a  true  servant  of  the  Most  High,  and  conlinueil 
a  pure  and  holy  virgin,  attending  to  the  pious  rules  of  her  order,  for  > 
period  of  fifty-iwo  years." 

Soon  after  the  profession  of  the  lady  Cicely,  those  fiital  divisions  beeu 
to  appear  in  the  royal  family,  of  which  Matilda  is  accused  of  havuig 
sown  the  seeds,  by  tile  injurious  partiality  which  she  hod  shown  for 
Boben,  her  first-bom. 

Thia  prince,  having  been  associated  with  his  royal  mother,  in  iki 
regency  of  Normandy,  from  the  age  of  fourteen,  had  been  brought  more 
into  public  than  was  perhaps  desirable,  at  a  period  of  life  when  presuro))- 
tnous  ideas  of  self- importance  are  only  too  apt  to  inflate  the  mind.  Bo- 
bert,  during  his  father's  long  absence,  was  not  only  emancipated  from  all 
I  Control,  but  had  accuetomej  himself  to  exercise  the  functions  of  a  acn^ 

a  AnimltL   &.  Dunelm.   Malrasbuty.         'Otdericua  Vialis.   Mnluub-iiJ 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDERS.  55] 

rnga,  in  ITnnnanily,  by  anticipBtion,  and  to  receive  the  homage  and 

Aaucry  of  all  ranks  of  people,  in  the  dominions  lo  which  he  was  iha 

hrir.     The  Conqueror,  il  seeme,  huiI  promised  that  lie  woiilJ  one  day 

lieatDw  ihe  duchy  ofNoimandy  on  him;  and  Roberl,  hnving  rcpreBcnted 

the  dncul  majesty  for  nearly  eight  years,  considered  himself  an  injured' 

penon  when  his  royal  father  took  tlie  power  into  his  own  hands  once 

more*  utd  nacled  from  him  the  obedience  of  a  subjerL,  and  the  duty  of 

■  son.'     There  was  nI»o  a  jealous  rivalry  between  Robert  and  his  two 

youager  brnthers,  Willioui  Rnfua  and  Henr>-.     William  Rufus,  noiwith- 

namling  his  rode,  lioisi^roua  manners,  and  the  apparent  recklessness  of 

hi»  disposition,  had  an  abundant  share  of  world-craft,  and  well  knew 

how  to  adapt  himeelf  (o  his  lather's  humour,  so  that  he  was  no  less  a 

Eirouriie  with  the  Conqueror  than  Robert  was  with  Matilda.     Robert 

was  A  prince  of  a  generous  disposition,  but  of  an  irritable  lempenuncnt, 

uriiiid,  and  i]uick  to  Ijike  offence.     From  his  low  stature  his  faliier  had 

'  .''iwed  on  him  the  Cf^nonicn  of  Court-hoee,'  and  this  appellation,  like 

names  ilerired  from  some  personal  peculiarity,  was,  no  doubt,  very 

/li'iising  to  a  hauglity  young  man,  and  tended  in  no  slight  degree  ta 

i'lisc  the  mortilication  attendant  on  the  loss  of  power,  and  to  create 

::tiu;Bof  ill-will  against  his  royal  sire.     He  had,  withal,  many  injurious 

I  n-n  and  pretended  friends,  among  the  dissipated  young  nobles  of 

uiiondy,  wbd  took  every  occasiou  to  porsuade  him  that  lie  was  un 

rnl  person,  especially  with  regard  lo  the  province  of  Maine.     Robert 

;  in  his  infancy  been  espoused  to  Margaret,  the  heiress  of  Herbert,  iha 

carl  of  that  province.    The  little  countess  died  while  they  were  yet 

lUlren,  and  William  of  Normandy,  who  had,  during  hor  minority, 

i'-.;'it  her  lands  under  his  wardship,  annexed  them  to  his  own  dominions 

I'lT  her  death.     When  the  juvenile  widower  became  of  age,  he  consi- 

'  >Tt-d  hinmelf  entitled  lo  the  earldom  and  lands  of  Maine,  in  right  of  his 

i!<~ccsMd  wile,  and  chtitned  them  of  his  father,  who  put  him  off  with  fair 

words,  bnt  withheld  the  territory,  though  the  people  of  Maine  demanded 

Robert  for  their  lord ;  and  at  the  surrender  of  the  revolted  city  of  Mans, 

it  ms  amouff  the  articles  of  capitulation,  that  he  should  receive  the  in- 

rcslitnre  of  the  eurldom.  Thia  condition  was  violated  by  the  Conqueror, 

who  had  no  mind  to  part  with  any  portion  of  his  acquisitions  during  hia 

;  veiifying,  in  this  its  in  every  otlier  action,  the  predictions  of  the 

•  at  his  birth,  "  that  he  wotdd  grasp  everything  witliin  his  reach, 

^  M  which  he  had  once  grasped  he  would  keep."' 

I  ihe  year  1070,  while  Matilda  and  William  were  with  their  family, 

p  castle  of  L'Aigle,  their  two  younger  sons,  William  and  Henry,  in 

^_  IDB  play,  threw  some  dirty  water  from  the  balcony  of  an  upper 

TrjSnment,  on  Robert  and  aome  of  hia  partisans,  who  were  walking  in 

cnutl  below.     The  fiery  heir  of  Normandy  construed  this  act  of 

\  i^h  folly  into  an  act  of  studied  contempt;  and  being  just  then  in  an 

irritable  and  excited  frame  i>f  mind,  lie  drew  his  sword,  and  ruclied  np 

twitb  a  threat  of  taking  deadly  vengeance  on  the  youthful  itans- 
*  who  had  ollered  this  insult  to  him  before  the  whole  coui^ 


fiMMIw  at 
a|Miat« 

^kn  pi 


I 
I 


isVii^Ia.  tftobert  ofGloiuieinr.  ■  Oidericiu  Titalit 


\ 

I 

\ 


^88  MATILDA    OF    PLANDERB.  ^J 

This  occssioned  ■  prodiginua  tniniili  und  uproar  in  the  ciwilr.  ari'I 
noiliing  but  the  presence  aoil  stern  authorJly  of  ihc  king,  who,  heBrtni; 
ihc  BiBim.  burst  into  the  loom  wilh  his  Jrawn  swunl  in  hiii  hnnil,  rouli' 
Iinve  prevcntcil  Tatal  consequences.' 

Robert,  not  obtaining  the  attisraMion  he  expected,  for  the  afTroiit  hr 
had  received,  privaicly  retired  from  ihe  conn  thai  Tery  evening.  foUoiral 
by  a  pnriy  of  the  youn^  nobility  whom  he  had  atlarhed  to  his  cause.' 

Eicharil,  the  second  son  of  William  and  Matilda,  dofs  not  sppcar  to 
hare  taken  any  part  in  tliese  quarrels.  He  was  ihe  ptipi!  of  the  Immeii 
I^infranc,  and  w«s  probably  occupied  with  siudions  pursnits,  ns  he  is 
taid  to  have  been  a  prince  of  great  promise,  and  of  an  aniiable  dii>pwi- 
tion.*  He  died  in  England,  in  tlie  flower  of  his  youth.  Acrorditig  Id 
popular  tradition,  he  was  gored  by  a  stag,  while  hunting  in  the  Nes 
Forest,  which  caused  his  death;  bui  some  hisioriaiiB  record  thai  he  died 
of  a  fever,  occasioned  by  the  mnlaria  in  the  depopulated  district  of  Hamp- 
ehlre,  at  the  time  when  so  many  thousands  of  llic  unfonnnate  Saxo(t> 
perished  by  famine,  in  consequence  of  having  been  drivrn  from  then 
tiomcs,  when  tlie  Conqnernr  converted  that  once  fertile  pan  of  F.ni^lani! 
into  n  chase,  for  the  enjoyment  of  his  fevourite  amusement  of  hnnlinf- 
Princc  Richard  was  buriL-<l  in  Winchester  Calhedml :  a  stab  of  stone 
marked  with  his  name  is  still  seen  there. 

Drayton  gires  a  political  reason  for  (he  depopulation  of  ihe  shore  of 
ihnnpebire,  occasioned  by  the  enclosnre  of  the  New  Forest,  which  is 
well  worth  the  conaideraiion  of  the  historical  reader. 
"Ckar  Aron,  coming  in,  her  litiM  Siour  doih  ™U, 
And  (t  Now  Fomt'a  l^t  i»<a  Xhe  tea  iIdI)i  (nil ; 
Thiu  F»rmt  now,  wlioae  dght  e'en  bonnilleu  sMms  to  lie, 
Its  1>cing  CTit  receiveil  i>om  WiltUun't  lyrannir. 
Who  frame'l  taw>  lo  keep  (hose  beaiu  he  planted  then. 
UU  tawlesi  will  (rota  hcD«c  brfore  hnil  driven  men : 
Tlisl  where  tlie  Bwili  wsi  wsimeil  will]  Winipt's  len&l  ttt*. 
Hie  mclaneholi«  bare  now  totms  in  tantitcKl  brnko  and  briers; 
And  Oft  liles  of  fhnicliei,  grown  with  nellies,  fein,  and  woedi. 
Sands  now  ihv  aged  raaiiiDh  trunk,  whire  ploughmen  cast  Haiii ' 
The  people  Were,  by  Williaro  horo,  cut  off  IVoin  everytnule: 
That  <iQ  lliif  ipot  the  Nonnnii  still  might  enter  <o  invade, 
Adi),  on  tbU  dMoIalcd  place  and  unricquonted  tbore. 
New  l!>iDM  etermoro  might  kind  lo  aid  tho»e  here  lierore." 

Tlie  SaxoD  Chrtmicle  comments  on  the  oppressive  statutes  en 
tlio  Norman  Conqueror,  for  ihe  preservation  of  game,  in  an  pl 
siraiii  of  indiguaiil  irony,  and  says,  '*lie  loved  the  tall  deer  as  if 
been  ilieir  father." 

Thai  game4awB  were  in  existence  at  a  much  earlier  period,  i 
criain  ;  but  it  was  during  this  rei^  that  they  nere  rendered  a  ^  ' 
■>  llic  people,  and  assumed  the  character  of  a  moml  wrong  in  ij 
lalure  of  the  country.    The  raore  enligiitened  policy  of  modem  1 
rudent^e,  has  in  some  degree  ameliorated  the  rigorous  penalties  • 
r  Norman  line  of  sovereigns,  against  poaching  i 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDSftff.  9t 

rtments;  but  the  bitterness  engendered  by  the  spirit  of  those  laws 
mains  in  full  force,  in  the  hearts  of  those  classes  against  whom  the 
itutes  are  supposed  to  point,  and  is  constantly  acted  upon  by  persons 
nuning  the  office  of  political  agitators,  for  the  purpose  of  creating 
ritions  between  the  people  and  their  rulers. 


MATILDA  OF  FLANDERS, 

QUEEN    OF   WILLIAM   THE    CONQUEROR. 


CHAPTER  III. 


itildm  mediates  between  her  husband  and  son— Robert's  insolence  and  rebel* 
lion — Matilda  supplies  him  with  money — Conqueror  seizes  Matilda's  agent— 
Conqueror's  remonstrance — Queen's  answer — Robert's  military  prowess — Field 
of  Archembraye — ^Robert  wounds  the  Conqueror — His  penitence— Matilda  in- 
tercedes—Conqueror writes  to  his  son — ^Robert  jmrdoned — Conqueror's  legis- 
lation  in  ISngland — ^Domesday  Book — Rojral  revenue — Queen  of  England's  per- 
quisites and  privileges — ^Her  dues  at  Queenhithe — Officers  of  royal  household 
-—Matilda's  court  the  model  of  succeeding  ones — She  continues  to  govern  Nor- 
mandy— ^Her  visit  to  the  monastery  of  Ouche — Illness  and  death  of  her  second 
daughter — ^Fresh  cause  of  sorrow  to  the  queen — Robert's  dissensions  with  his 
&ther — Matilda's  distress — Applies  to  a  hermit — ^His  vision,  and  message  to 
the  queeti — Her  grief  and  lingering  illness — ^Dying  of  a  broken  heart — The 
Conqueror  hastens  fVom  £ngland»-^he  dies — Her  obsequies — hor  alms — ^Tomb 
— ^Epitaph — Will — ^Articles  of  dress  named  therein — Portrait  and  costume — 
Her  children — The  Conqueror's  deep  affliction — ^Disquiets  after  the  death  of 
the  Queen — ^Fatal  accident  to  the  Conqueror — ^Death — His  body  plundered — 
Accidents  and  interruptions  at  his  funeral— >Monument — Portrait — Destruction 
of  his  tomb— Of  Matilda's  tomb— Her  sapphire  ring — ^Their  bodies  re-iuterred 
— Matilda's  tomb  restored^>Final  destruction  at  French  Revolution. 

The  feud  between  her  royal  husband  and  her  first-bom  was  Very 
infnl  to  Matilda,  whose  anxious  attempts  to  efiect  a  reconciliation  were 
nvaOing.  When  Robert's  passion  was  somewhat  cooled,  he  consented 
see  his  father,  bnt  the  interview  was  anything  but  friendly.  Orderi- 
ti  Vitalifl  gives  the  following  particulars  of  the  conference. 
Robert  assumed  a  very  hi^  tone,  and  repeated  his  demand,  of  being 
vested  with  the  duchies  of  Normandy  and  Maine.  This  was  of  course 
fbsed  by  the  Conqueror,  who  sternly  bade  his  ambitious  heir  ^  remem- 
T  the  fate  of  Absalom,  and  the  misfortunes  of  Rehoboam,  and  not  to 
(ten  to  the  ievil  counsellors  who  wished  to  seduce  him  from  the  paths 
'  duty."  On  which  Robert  insolently  replied,  **  That  he  did  not  come 
ere  to  listen  to  sermons,  with  which  he  had  been  nauseated  by  his 
tors  when  he  was  learning  grammar,  but  to  claim  the  investiture 
hich  had  been  promised  to  him.    Answer  me  positively ^^^  coi\\xcrai^ 


he, "  ore  nnt  these  Uiings  my  right  i  Ilaie  you  nol  promised  to  buio' 
them  on  me  V ' 

'^  It  is  Dot  my  ciuloin  to  strip  till  1  go  to  bed,'"  replied  the  Conqaeror; 
''and  as  loitg  as  1  live,  1  will  not  deprive  inyseir  of  my  naiivc  naJn. 
Iformandy,  neither  will  f  divide  with  another;  for  it  is  written  in  iht 
holy  evnugelists,  ^  Evnry  kiogilom  that  is  divided  against  iiselT  shdl 
become  draolaie.'*  I  won  England  by  mine  own  good  sword;  the 
TicarB  iif  Chnst  placed  tbe  diadem  of  iia  ancient  kings  on  my  brow,  and 
the  sceptre  in  mine  hand ;  and  1  swear  that  all  (he  world  combined  shall 
nol  compel  me  to  delegate  my  power  to  anoiher.  It  is  not  to  be  borne, 
that  he  who  owes  his  existence  to  me  should  aspire  to  be  my  riral  in 
mine  own  dominions." 

Bill  Itoberl  scornfully  rejoined,  with  equal  pride  and  disrespect.  '^  If 
it  be  inconvenient  for  you  to  keep  your  word,  I  will  withdraw  from  Noi- 
numdy,  and  seek  justice  f(x>m  strangers ;  for  here  1  will  not  remain  u  a 
subject." ' 

With  these  words  he  quilled  the  royal  presence,  and,  with  a  party  of 
disalTectcd  nobles,  took  refuge  with  Matilda's  brollier,  Robert  earl  of 
Flanders,  snmamed  Le  Prison,  from  his  having  married  the  counien 
of  Friesland. 

From  this  uncle,  Robert  received  very  bad  advice,  and  the  kui^  ot 
France  endeavoured,  by  all  the  means  in  bis  power,  to  widen  tbe  brearii 
between  the  undutiful  heir  of  Kormandy  and  his  father.  Encouia^ 
by  these  evil  counsellors,  Robert  buried  himself  in  fomenting  disron- 
tents,  and  organizing  a  formidable  faction,  in  his  father's  dominioiu, 
whence  he  drew  large  sums,  in  the  shape  nf  presents  and  loans,  from 
many  of  the  vassals  of  the  ducal  crown,  who  were  wdling  to  ingratiau 
themselves  with  the  heir  apparent,  and  to  conciliate  the  favour  of  ibf 
queen-ducheas,  whose   jurtial   fondness   for  her  eldest  son  was  weB 

The  supplies  thus  obtained  Robert  improvidenily  lavished  among  hi* 
dissolute  companions,  both  male  and  female.  In  consequence  of  this 
cxtramgance,  he  was  occasionally  reduced  to  the  greatest  inconvenience 
'When  under  the  pressure  of  those  pecuniary  embarrassnientji,  which 
cuuld  not  fail  to  expose  him  lo  the  contempt  of  the  foreign  princes  wbu 
espoused  his  quarrel  against  his  father,  he  was  wont  to  apply  lo  bis  loo 
indulgcDl  mother,  Maulda,  by  whom  he  was  so  passionately  beloved, 
that  she  could  refuse  him  nothing;  from  her  private  cufiers  she  secretly 
supplied  him  with  large  sums  of  silver  and  gold;  and  when  ibttt 
resources  were  exhausted  by  tbe  increasing  demands  of  her  prodigd 
Bou,  Matilda  had  the  weakness  lo  strip  herself  of  her  jewels  and  pncioM 
garmenu,  for  the  same  puqiose.* 

This  system  continued  even  when  Robert  had  taken  up  arms  againcl 
his  father  and  sovereign.  Roger  de  Beaumont,  Uiat  faithful  minister .— 
whom  William  hail,  previous  to  his  first  embarkation  on  the  luewotaUr 
expedition  from  St.  Vallerie,  appointed  as  the  premier  of  Nonuamiy,— 

■Onlfricui  ViialU.     UvmingtuirJ.    WalsinKliam. 

■Oidpricus  Viial^     S.  Duaelni.     P.Daniel. 

'(JMmleiH  Ytflii.  '  Uahmhuij.    Oiderlant  Vitally 


M 


■  ATILDA     OF     FLANDERS. 

■ad  wlti>  bad  ever  since  usisled  his  royal  mistress,  not  only  with  Ills  1 
cootisvls  in  the  aclruiuistmliou  of  affiiirs  of  sUle,  bul  even  iu  the  ctluca.  T 
ban  of  her  children,  felt  il  his  duty  to  inrorm  his  Boveteijn  of  the  under- 
haad  proceeding  o(  MatdJa  in  favour  of  her  rebel  son.' 

WiUiun  WB»  in  England  when  the  startling  intelligence  reached  hinii  I 
of  the  unnatural  rebelliou  of  his  first-born,  and  the  ireat^hery  of  his  be- 
lonred  consort,  in  whom  he  Imd  ever  reposed  ihe  moat  nnbounde<l  confi- 
dence. He  appears  scarcely  to  have  given  credence  to  the  repreaenl»- 
tiuBx  of  Roger  de  Beaumont,  relating  to  the  conduct  of  his  queen,  till, 
on  hia  return  to  Nomkandy,  he  intercepted  nne  of  Matilda's  privals 
iffeat*,  nanicd  S&mpson,  who  was  charged  with  communicalions  from 
the  ipiecn  to  Robert,  which  left  no  doubt  on  William's  mind,  of  thil 
idcatily  of  the  secret  friend  by  whom  his  uiiduliful  eon  had  been  sup- 
[died  with  the  means  of  carrying  on  his  plots  and  hostile  measurea 
a^nat  liia  government.' 

Thrre  was  ■  Btem  grandeur,  not  unmixed  with  tenderness,  in  the 

;>r>.>uf  wliich  be  addressed  to  his  oflending  consort  on  this  occasion. 

"TIio  observation  of  a  certain  phdosophcr  is  true,"  said  he,  "and  S 
1-411  only  too  much  cause  to  admit  the  force  of  his  words — 

'  NBuTrBgium  rorum  est  niuliec  itiBlefiJa  jnatila;' 

■Tlie  woman  who  deceives  her  husband  is  the  destruction  of  her  - 
mhoDW.' 

"Whwa  in  all  the  world  could  yon  have  found  a  companion  so  faith- 
U  Bd  devoted  in  his  afleclion  f"  continued  he,  passionately.  ''  Behold 
mr  vift,  she  whom  I  have  loved  as  my  own  soul,  to  whom  1  have  con- 
mi  tb*  ^vemment  of  my  realms,  my  treasure,aud  all  that  I  possessed 
iaAavtmd,  of  power  and  greatness  —  she  haiK  supported  mine  adver- 
Wfigliaat  me — she  halh  strengthened  and  enriched  him  from  the 
vaUt  which  I  conlided  to  her  keeping — she  hath  secretly  employed 
iu  ImI  ind  flubtlely  in  his  cause,  and  done  everytliing  she  could  to 
JB  him  against  me !''  * 

k**  replv  to  this  indignant  but  touching  appeal,  which  her  royal    I 
,  more,  it  should  appear,  in  sorrow  than  in  anger,  addressed  to   j 
W.  il  aa  Ina  remarkable  for  its  impassioned  eloquence,  than  the  sub- 
''■■■^y  with  which  she  evades  the  pnncipal  point  on  which  she  is  presseil, 

:'-i  ratrrucbes  herself  on  the  strong  ground  of  maienud  love. 

"  My  lord,"  said  she, "  I  pray  you  not  to  be  surprised  if  I  feel  a 
'.iumer'i  lendemess  for  my  first-bom  son.  By  the  virtoe  of  the  Most 
lUh.  I  protest  that  if  my  son  Robert  were  dead,  and  hidden  far  from 
Uk  •iglii  u{  the  living,  seven  feel  deep  in  the  earth,  and  that  the  price  of 
my  bluud  could  restore  him  to  life,  I  would  cheerfully  bid  it  flow.  For 
*iu  mLb  1  would  endure  any  sutfering,  yen,  things  from  which,  on  any 
otbtr  occasion,  the  feebleness  of  my  sex  would  shrink  with  terror. 
Bo»  then  ran  you  suppose  that  1  could  enjoy  llie  pomp  and  luiurip« 
•ith  which  1  was  surrounded,  when  I  knew  tlint  he  was  pining  in  warn 
-111  mwcry  ?  Far  from  my  heart  he  such  hardness,  nor  ought  your 
.   hririiy  (o  impose  such  insensibility  on  a  mother."' 


i  1^ 
I  1M»1„ 
I      Mr.  uaa 


MATILDA    OF    FL.INOBRS 


\ 

I 


up, 


William  is  reported  lo  have  turned  pale  with  nnger  ol  ihis  rejoindtr. 
Il  WB9  not,  however,  on  Maiilda,  the  object  of  liia  adoring  ano  Consiut 
afleclion,  thai  he  prepnied  to  iiiHict  the  measure  of  vengeauee  which  htr 
trancgreseion  againsl  him  had  provoked.  Sampson,  tne  comparaiirdf 
innocent  agent  whom  ahe  had  employed  in  this  transaction,  was  doomed 
to  pay  the  dreadful  penally  of  ihe  oOence,  with  Ihe  loss  of  sight,  by  iIk 
order  of  his  enraged  sovereign.'  In  such  cases  il  ia  usual  for  the  instni- 
nieni  to  be  the  sacrifice,  and  persons  of  the  kind  are  geneinlly  yirlded 
a  sort  of  scapegoat,  or  expiatory  victim.     But  Matilda  did  nnt 

jandon  her  lerritied  agent  in  his  distress  j  she  conirived  lo  convey » 
hasty  iitiimation  of  his  peril,  and  her  desire  of  preserving  him,  to  •omt 
of  the  persons  who  were  devoted  to  her  service ;  and  Sampson,  man 
fortunale  than  his  illustrious  namesake  of  yore,  was  enabled  to  eacape 
the  cruel  seDlence  of  his  lord,  by  taking  sanctuary  in  the  monastery  of 
Ouche,  of  which  Matilda  was  a  muniticent  patroness.  Nevertheless,  u 
it  was  a  serious  thing  lo  oppose  the  wrath  of  such  a  prince  as  Willmm. 
the  abbot  Manier  found  no  other  way  of  securing  the  trembling  fugilift 
front  his  vengeance,  than  that  of  causing  him  to  be  shorn,  shaven,  and 
professed  a  monk  of  Ouche,  the  same  day  he  entered  the  convent,  "ia 
happy  hour  both  for  his  body  and  soul,'*'  observes  the  conlemponiy 
chronicler  who  relates  this  circumstance.* 

It  does  not  appear  that  William's  alFcction  for  Matilda  sulTered  ai^ 
material  diminution  in  consequence  of  these  transactions,  neither  wonli 
he  permit  any  one  to  censure  her  conduct  in  liis  presence.'  She  was  the 
love  (if  his  youth,  the  solace  of  his  meridian  hours  of  life,  and  she  jot' 
served  her  empire  orer  his  mighiy  heart  to  the  last  hour  of  lier  lilt 
But  though  the  attachment  of  the  Conqueror  lo  his  consort  rnnoincd 
nnalleried,  the  happiness  of  the  roysl  pair  waa  materially  tminiffii 
Robert,  their  first-born,  waa  in  arms  against  his  father  and  sovereign,  and 
St  the  head  of  a  numerous  army,  supported  by  the  hostile  power  of 
France  on  the  one  hand,  and  tlie  disalTecied  portion  of  William's  suhjcAf 
on  the  other-  He  had  made  s  formidable  attack  on  Rouen,  and  in  srvt- 
nl  instances  obtained  successes  which  at  first  astonished  lus  iodignaal 
parent,  who  had  certainly  greatly  underrated  the  militart'  talents  ^  hi* 

When,  however,  the  Conqueror  perceived  that  the  filial  fr>e  who  had 
thus  audaciously  displayed  his  rebiDl  banner  against  him,  had  inlieriled 
all  the  martial  prowess  of  his  race,  and  was  bj-  no  means  unlikriy  U 
prove  a  match  for  himself  in  llie  art  of  war,  he  arrayed  a  miglily  amy, 
and  advanced  with  all  his  wonted  energy,  to  give  him  battle,  not  dogbl- 
ing  but  that  success  would,  as  usual,  attend  his  arms.  The  royal  chj^ 
of  Normandy  met  in  hostile  encounter,  on  the  plain  of  Archeml»ayci 
near  the  castle  of  Gerbetg.  William  Rnfus,  the  Conqueror'a  fiivoivJK 
son,  was  in  close  attendance  on  his  father's  person  that  day.  This  ptinca 
had  already  received  the  honour  of  knighthood  from  Lanfrenc,  aifV 
hisliop  of  Cajiierbury,  hia  tutor,  and  he  was  eager  to  assist  in  humblii] 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDERS.  61 

the  pride  of  his  elder  brother,  over  whom  the  Conqueror  anticipated  a 
signal  triumph.' 

The  battle  was  fought  with  no  common  fury  on  both  sides;  but  Ro- 
bert, who  headed  a  choice  body  of  cavalry,  decided  the  fortune  of  the 
day,  by  his  impetuous  charge  upon  the  rearward  of  his  foes,  where  his 
ro^-al  father  commanded,  whose  utmost  endeavours  to  preserve  order  in 
his  ranks  were  inefiectual.  It  was  in  this  charge  that  the  memorable 
personal  encounter  between  the  Conqueror  and  his  rebel  son  occurred, 
where  Robert,  unconscious  who  the  doughty  champion  was  against 
whom  he  tilted,  ran  his  father  through  the  arm  with  his  lance,  and  un- 
horsed him*  This  was  the  first  time  that'William  had  ever  been  over- 
come in  single  combat,  for  he  was  one  of  the  strongest  men,  and  most 
approved  knights,  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived ;  and  it  is  a  singular  fact, 
that  in  all  the  battles  in  which  he  had  been  engaged,  he  had  never  lost 
a  drop  of  blood,  till  it  was  in  this  field  drawn  by  the  lance  of  his  first- 
bom.  He  was  on  tliis  occasion  in  great  danger  of  being  slain  in  the 
melee ;  but  transported  with  rage  at  the  smart  of  his  wound,  and  the 
disgrace  of  the  overthrow,  he  called  so  loudly  and  angrily  for  rescue,  that 
Robert  recognised  him,  either  by  his  voice  or  some  of  his  fevourite  exple- 
tives, and  hastily  alighting,  raised  him  from  the  ground  in  his  arms,  with 
much  tenderness  and  respect,  expressed  the  deepest  concern  at  the  unin- 
tentional crime  of  which  he  had  been  guilty,  for  which  he  most  humbly 
entreated  his  forgiveness,  and  then  placing  him  on  his  own  horse,  he 
brought  him  safely  out  of  the  press.'  According  to  some  of  the  histo- 
rians of  that  period,  William,  instead  of  meeting  this  generous  burst  of 
feeling,  on  the  part  of  his  penitent  son,  with  answering  emotions  of  pa- 
ternal tenderness,  was  so  infuriated  at  the  humiliation  he  had  received, 
that  he  uttered  a  malediction  against  him,  which  all  the  aflcr  submissions 
of  Robert  could  not  induce  him  to  retract ;  while  otliers,  equally  de- 
serving of  credit,  assert  that  he  was  so  moved  with  the  proof  of  Robert's 
dutiful  reverence  for  his  person,  and  the  anxiety  he  had  manifested  for 
his  safety,  that  he  presently  forgave  him,  and  ever  af\er  held  him  in 
better  respect  Both  accounts  may  be  true  in  part ;  for  it  is  very  possi- 
ble, that  when  the  Conqueror  of  England  found  himself  defeated  by  his 
rebel  subjects,  on  his  native  soil,  and  his  hitherto  invincible  arm  over- 
come by  the  prowess  ol^  his  son,  (whose  person  he  had  hitherto  been 
accustomed  to  mention  with  a  contemptuous  allusion  to  his  inferiority 
in  stature,)  he  might,  while  the  smart  of  his  wound  lasted,  have  in- 
dulged in  a  strong  ebullition  of  wrathful  reproach,  not  unmixed  witli 
execmtions,  of  which  it  appears  that  he,  in  common  with  all  Normans 
of  that  era,  had  an  evil  nabit.  But  after  his  passion  was  abated,  it  is 
certain  that  he  did,  in  compliance  with  the  entreaties  of  his  queen,  con- 
sent to  receive  the  submission  of  his  victorious  but  penitent  son/ 

In  this  battle,  William  Rufus  was  severely  wounded,  as  well  as  his 
bther,  and  there  was  a  considerable  slaughter  of  the  English  troops,  of 
which  the  Conqueror^s  army  was  chiefly  composed;  for  Robert  had 

'  Horeden.     S.  Dunelm.    M.  Paris.    Polydore  Vergil. 
'S.DuDelm.    Malmetbury.    Hoveden.    M.  Paris. 
"S.Bunelm.    M.  Paris.  « Ordericos  YitaOis. 

TOL.  I. 6 


■  ATILO&    OF    PLATCDERS 


Molen  the  hearts  of  the  Normans,  whfle  asaociatetl  in  the  regencj-  mtfc 
his  mother  Alatilda,  and  his  father  considered  it  unsafe  to  oppoae  him 
with  his  native  troops.  As  it  was,  Robert  remained  ihe  master  of  ch* 
field,  having  that  day  given  indubitable  proofs  of  able  geDeralehi]),  ud 

Ct  personal  Talour;  but  the  perilous  chance  that  had  nearly  readiTcd 
ihe  murderer  of  his  lather,  inade  so  deep  an  impression  on  his  raiod, 
ihol  he  remained  for  a  time  conscience-stricken,  which  caused  him  lo 
endeafour,  by  employing  the  inlercession  of  his  doting  mother,  to  obtua 
a  reeoncilialion  with  his  oflended  sire.' 

Matilda  had  sul&red  greatly  in  mind,  during  the  unnatural  war&re  bfr 
tween  her  husband  and  her  tiist-born,  especially  after  the  frightful  eii> 
cujDstance  of  their  pen^onal  encounter  in  the  field  of  Archembmy^ 
which  was  fought  in  the  year  1077.  Some  feelings  of  self-reproMb 
mifht  possibly  mingle  with  her  uneasiness  on  this  occasion. 

Her  health  began  to  decline,  and  William  was  at  length  moved  by  lur 
incessant  pleading,  and  the  sight  of  her  tears,  to  write  a  letter  wiQi  hit 
own  hand  to  Robert,  inviting  him  ^  lo  repair  to  Rouen,  and  receive  a  full 
pardon  for  his  Inte  rebellion,  promising  at  the  same  lime  to  grant  hua 
everything  that  he  could  expect  from  the  aileclion  of  a  father,  coiuitf- 
ently  with  the  duly  of  a  king."  On  tlie  receipt  of  this  welcome  leiia, 
Robert  delayed  not  a  moment  to  obey  the  summons.  He  came  to  Roaec. 
attended  only  by  three  servants  \  he  was  received  by  his  parents  ta  tht 
most  afiectionatc  manner;  and  a  temporary  reconcUlatioti  was  eftuted 
between  bim  and  his  brethren.* 

MatUda  did  not  long  enjoy  the  society  of  this  beloved  son ;  for  iht 
Conqueror's  a^rs  in  Zngland  requiring  hie  presence,  he  thought  propel 
to  carry  Robert  with  him,  under  the  pretence  that  he  reqtiir^  his  ■c^ 
vices  in  a  military  capacity,  to  defend  ihe  northern  counties  against  iba 
aggression  of  Malcolm,  king  of  Scotland,  who  had  once  more  vi^tul  ' 
llie  treaty  of  peace. 

William's  real  motive  for  making  Robert  the  companion  of  liis  vorafC, 
was  because  he  considered  Matilda  was  too  much  devoted  to  the  iaierest 
of  her  firsi-bom,  to  render  it  expedient  for  him  to  remain  with  her  in 
Normandy. 

The  following  spring,  Robert  was  commissioned  to  chastise  the  Scot- 
tish monarch;  but  having  been  given  an  inet^tual  force,  he  performtd 
nothing  remarkable  in  that  campaign.  While  in  the  north,  he  founded 
the  town  of  Newcasde-upon-Tyne,  in  the  same  place  where  Monkcbv- 
ter,  or  the  city  of  the  monks,  was  situated.' 

The  year  1078*  was  remarkable,  in  this  country,  for  the  great  natiacid 
fcurvej',  which  was  instituted  by  the  Ck>nqueror,  for  the  purpose  of  asco- 
taining  the  precise  nature  of  the  lands  and  tangible  properly  throughust 
England ;  so  that,  says  Ingulphus,  "  there  was  not  a  hide  of  land,  wmUt, 
or  waste,  but  he  knew  the  valuation,  the  owners  and  possessors,  togaba 


>Ot<lerioii>  Vin 

'  Heniy  Konlini^on.     M.  Weioniniier. 

■  Acuoiding  lo  wme  bittoriana,  ihe  tiinej  vaa  not  gtaenllj  began  till  IMI     | 
U/rira>jaM/liUrcoa>pIeied  tiU  1086.— Tuid>l'sN<nu(u   "     '  ' 


MATILDA    OF   FLANDBKS.  63 

with  the  rents  and  profits  thereof;  as  also  of  all  cities,  towns,  villages, 
liamlets,  monasteries,  and  religious  houses ;  causing,  also,  all  the  people 
in  England  to  be  numbered,  their  names  to  be  taken,  with  notice  what 
any  one  might  dispend  by  the  year ;  their  substance,  money,  and  bond- 
men recorded,  with  their  cattle,  and  what  service  they  owed  to  him,  who 
held  of  him  in  fee ;  all  which  was  certified  upon  the  oaths  of  commis- 
sioners,'" 

Such  is  the  account  given  by  the  learned  abbot  of  Croydon,  of  the 
particulars  of  William's  "  Great  Terrar,"  or  "  Domesday-book,"  as  it 
was  called  by  the  Saxons.  The  proceedings  of  the  commissioners  were 
inquisitorial  enough,  no  doubt,  since  they  extended  to  ascertaining  how 
much  money  every  man  had  in  his  house,  and  what  was  owing  to  him. 
rhat  in  some  instances,  too,  they  were  partial  in  their  returns,  is  evi- 
Jent,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  Ingulphus,  when,  speaking  of  his  own 
monastery  of  Croyland,  he  says,  ^^  me  commissioners  were  so  kind  and 
avil,  that  they  did  not  give  in  the  true  value  of  it :"  we  may  therefore 
xmdnde  that,  whenever  the  proprietors  made  it  worth  their  while,  they 
irere  equally  obliging  elsewhere.  Yet  it  was  at  the  risk  of  severe  pun- 
iriunent  that  any  fraud,  favour,  connivance,  or  concealment,  was  prac- 
tised, by  either  the  owners  of  the,  property,  or  the  commissioners.' 
[lobert  of  Gloucester,  in  his  rhyming  chronicle,  gives  the  following 
}naint  description  of  the  Domesday-book. 

**  Then  King  William,  to  learn  the  worth  of  his  land, 
Let  enquiry  stretch  throughout  all  England, 
How  many  plough  laud,  and  hiden  also, 
Were  in  every  shire,  and  what  they  were  worth  thereto  j 
And  the  rents  of  each  town,  and  the  waters  each  one. 
The  worth,  and  woods  eke,  and  wastes  where  lived  none ; 
By  that  he  wist  what  he  were  worth  of  all  England, 
And  set  it  clearly  forth  that  all  might  understand, 
And  had  it  clearly  written,  and  that  9cript  he  put,  I  wis. 
In  the  treasurie  of  Westminster,  where  it  still  is^" 

The  king's  great  object  in  instituting  this  survey,  was  to  form  an  exact 
calculation  of  his  own  revenues,  and  especially  how  much  money  ho 
night  be  enabled  to  realize  in  the  way  of  a  land-tax.  Accordingly,  he 
aid  an  impost  of  six  shillings  on  every  hide  of  land'  throughout  England 
IS  soon  as  he  had  ascertained  this  point ;  which  tax  affected  the  Nor- 
nans,  who  had  become,  generally  speaking,  the  lords  of  the  soil,  far 
nore  than  it  did  the  Engush,  who  were  for  the  most  part  reduced  to 
kbject  poverty. 

The  description  or  survey  of  England  was  written  in  two  books,  the 
jreat  and  Little  Domesday-book,^  and  when  finished,  they  were  carefully 
iiid  up  in  the  king's  treasury  or  exchequer,  to  be  consulted  on  occasion, 

'Ingulphus. 

'This  furvey  was  made  by  presentment  of  juries,  that  is,  certain  persons  who 
vere  appointed  from  every  hundred,  wapentake,  or  county,  and  sworn  in  before 
^omraisnooers,  consisting  of  the  greatest  earls,  bishops,  or  leading  persons  in  th# 
listrict. — ^Brady. 

■This  was  called  Hydage. 
The  little  book  contains  only  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and  Essex. 


t  mi 


MATILDA    OF    FLA 


I 


I 


I 


Potydore  Vergil  shrewdly  obsen'cs,  "  when  it  was  required  in 
know  of  how  mucli  more  wool  the  English  flocks  might  be  fleoeed." 

By  ttie  &id  of  ihia  survey,  William  was  enabled  to  raise  die  royai 
rereuue  to  the  sum  of  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  per  yeari  which  ii 
computed  by  Bnuiy  to  be  upm-arda  of  five  millions  of  our  present  money. 
In  oadilion  to  this  settled  income^  he  was  entitled  to  ttmay  perquisiltf, 
aa  mulcts,  fines,  forfeilures,  lirences  for  buying  and  selling,  for  gnuittag 
leave  to  marry,  and  many  other  profitable  contingencies,  which  were  In 
those  days  constantly  bringing  supplies  into  the  royal  purae.  Then  djen 
vere  certain  occasions  on  which  subsidies  were  granted,  as  a  niaiter  of 
course,  as  on  the  marriage  of  an  eldest  daughter,  or  when  knighiiiood 
wtts  conferred  on  a  son. 

Matilda,  though  residing  chiefly  in  Normandy,  had  her  distinct  rert- 
nues.  perquisites,  and  privileges,  as  queen  of  England.  She  was  allowed 
to  claim  her  aurun  rcgina,  or  quccn-gold ;  that  is,  the  tenth  part  of 
evoiy  fins  voluntary  tliat  was  paid  to  ihc  crown.'  She  received,  frocn 
tbo  city  of  London,  sums  to  furnish  oil  for  her  lamp,  wood  fur  iter  hearth, 
and  tolls  or  imposts  on  goods  landed  at  Queenhithcj  with  matiy  odiet 
immunities,  which  the  queen-coosorls  in  latter  days  have  not  ventuted 
to  claim. 

The  table  at  which  the  queen  hEtself  sat  was  furnished  with  viuibi 
St  tlie  daily  expenditure  of  forty  shillings.  Twelve  pence  each  wii 
Allowed  for  the  sustenance  of  her  hundred  attendants.' 

The  royal  revenues  were  never  richer  than  in  this  reign,  and  they 
were  not  charged  with  any  of  the  expenses  attending  on  the  utaintenuM 
of  the  military  force  of  the  country,  for  the  king  had  taken  care  to  im- 
pose that  burden  on  snch  persons,  among  his  foUowers,  who  had  been 
enriched  widi  the  forfeited  lands  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  Almost  every 
landed  proprietor  then  held  his  eslaiea  on  the  tenure  of  performing  cra«D 
service,  and  famishing  a  quota  of  men-at-anns,  at  the  king's  De«d  or 
pleasure.  In  this  reign  the  Court  of  Exchequer  was  instituted,  so  calbd 
from  the  chequered  cloth,  figured  like  a  chess-board,  that  was  laid  on 
the  table  when  the  court  was  sitting.* 

The  principal  or  supreme  court  of  judicature  in  ordinarv  wri^  call«j 
earui  regis,*  or  King's  Court,  which  was  always  at  the  r<i\Ml 
There  councils  were  held,  and  all  affairs  of  state  trnnsaclcil 
throne  was  placed,  wliich  was  an  ordinary  court  of  judi.    ; 
justice  was  administered  to  the  subjects  by  the  king,  as  rhu  i 
The  chief  oflicers  of  this  court  were  : — 1st.  The  grand  ju.-Dnurv  :  \,e 
was  next  to  the  king  in  power  and  audiority,  and  in  his  absence  guvenuij 
the  realm  as  viceroy  :  if  the  king  were  not  present  in  person  in  a  ' 
rcgi*,  ho  acted  as  chief  judge,  both  in  criminal  and  civil  canses. 
The  constable :  he  was  a  high  officer,  both  in  peace  and  war ;  this  a 
was  anciently  hereditary.     3d.  The  matcschal :  this  office  is  still  li 

'  Ptynne^.  "  Aimiro  Begiiw." 

■  Til*  bnuwhold  book  of  Edwatil  IV.  MU(>d  Ibe  " 
prec«ilenl«  ftmn  EitreniB  uiliiiuiljr. 
'  Msiloi'i  Siittirr  or  lbs  Exohequet.  ■  Ibid. 


MATILDA    OF    ILANDBSS.  65 

ditaiy,  and  U  at  present  exercised  by  his  grace  the  duke  of  Norfolk. 
The  office  of  the  mareschal,  or  earl  marshaU  was  to  provide  for  the  secu- 
rity of  the  royal  person,  in  the  palace,  to  distribute  lodgings  there,  (not 
always  the  most  enviable  task  in  those  bellicose  days,)  and  to  preserve 
peace  and  order  in  the  king's  household.  How  the  latter  duty  was  per- 
fijrmed  when  the  mareschal  chanced  to  be  himself  one  of  the  most  quar- 
relsome persons  in  the  court,  as  in  the  case  of  Bigod  earl  of  Noifolk, 
our  authority  saith  not  It  was  also  the  business  of  the  earl  marshal  to 
assist  in  determining  all  controversies  :  there  is  a  notable  one  on  record, 
that  took  place  between  king  Edward  the  First  and  his  mareschal,  the 
said  Bigod,  which  we  shall  relate,  among  the  events  of  that  reign. 

The  4th  great  officer  of  the  King's  Court  was  the  seneschal  or  steward 
of  the  palace,  called  the  dapifer.  The  5th  was  the  chamberlain,  who 
presided  over  all  matters  of  courtly  ceremonial.  The  6th  was  the  king's 
chancellor,  generally  some  famous  ecclesiastic.  The  chancellor  was  ^e 
king's  prime  counsellor,  and  was*  accustomed  to  supervise  the  charters 
to  be  sealed  with  the  king's  seal ;  and  likewise  to  supervise  and  seal  the 
acts  and  precepts  that  issued  in  proceedings  from  curia  regisj  or  the 
king's  court 

The  7th  officer  was  the  king's  treasurer,  and  he  was  also  most  fre- 
onently  a  prelate  or  noted  churchman.  Besides  these,  there  were  le 
ioteUr^  or  the  king^s  butler,  who  presided  over  the  royal  cellars,  and 
served  the  wine-cup  to  the  sovereign ;  the  sewer,  whose  business  it  was 
to  place  the  dishes  on  the  royal  taUe ;  and  many  other  officers,  of  infe- 
rior reckoning  in  the  housenold,  but  who  were  nevertheless  nobles  or 
knights. 

We  have  been  thus  minute  in  our  particulars  of  the  first  Anglo-Nor- 
man court,  because,  although  it  was  little  graced  by  the  presence  of  the 
<iaeen,  its  arrangements  foraied  the  model  and  precedent  for  those  in  the 
succeeding  reigns,  and  cast  no  little  light  on  the  habits  and  customs  of 
royalty  in  the  middle  ages  of  English  history. 

We  must  now  return  to  the  personal  history  of  Matilda.  The  latter 
years  of  this  queen  were  spent  in  Normandy,  where  she  continued  to 
exercise  the  functions  of  government,  for  her  royal  husband.' 

Orderictts  Vitalis  relates  the  particulars  &.  a  Tisit  which  she  paid  to 
the  monastery  of  Ouche,  to  entreat  the  prayt,*s  of  the  abbot  Manier,  and 
kis  monks,  in  behalf  of  her  second  daughter,  the  lady  Constance,  the 
wife  of  Alan  Fergeant,  duke  of  Bretagne.  This  princess,  who  was  pas- 
rionately  desirous  of  bringing  an  heir  to  Bretagne,  was  childless,  and  to 
ihe  grief  of  her  mother,  md  fallen  into  a  declining  state  of  health.  Ma- 
tilda, in  the  hope  of  averting  the  aj^rehended  death  of  the  youthful 
duchess,  sought  the  ^rine  of  St  Enrole,  the  patron  of  the  monks  of 
Ouche,  with  prayers  and  ofierings.  She  was  most  honourably  received 
by  the  learned  abbot  Manier,  and  his  monks,  who  conducted  her  into 
the  church.  She  ofiered  a  mark  of  gold  on  the  altar  there,  and  presented 
to  tlic  shrine  of  St  Eurole  a  costly  ornament,  adorned  with  precious 
stones,  and  she  vowed  many  benefits  in  reversion,  if  the  saint  were  pro- 

'OidericiuTitalit. 


I 
I 


BATILDA     OP     FLAXDBBS. 

iritinns.  After  this  the  queenniu chess  dined  in  the  comraon  refeclory, 
behaving  at  the  same  time  wiih  the  moat  edifjing  humility,  so  as  lo  lean 
ail  agreeable  remembrance  of  her  risit,  on  the  minds  cf  the  brethren,  of 
whom  the  worthy  chronicler  (who  relates  this  circumalaocc,  lo  tlw 
honour  and  glory  of  his  convent)  was  one.' 

Matilda  found  that  her  viaii  and  nflerings  lo  the  ahrine  of  St.  Enrols 
were  unavailing,  to  prolong  tlie  life  of  her  daughter,  for  tlie  iluchew 
Conitunce  died  in  the  flower  of  her  age,  after  an  unfruitful  marriage  of 
■even  years.  Her  reniaina  were  conveyed  to  England,  and  interred  in 
the  abbey  of  Sl  Edmund's  Bury.  Like  all  the  children  of  William  and 
Matilda,  she  bad  been  caceliilly  educated,  and  is  said  to  linve  bc«n  a 
princeas  posaeased  of  great  mental  acquirements.  After  her  death,  Alas 
duke  of  firetagtie  married  again,  and  had  a  family  by  bis  second  wife; 
bui  the  rich  grant  of  English  lands,  with  which  the  Conqueror  had 
dowered  hia  daughter  Conaiance,  he  was  permitted  to  retain,  together 
witli  the  title  of  earl  of  Richmond,  which  was  long  borne  by  tlie  dukee 
of  Bretagne,  his  8uce«Bsor«i. 

The  grief  which  the  early  death  of  her  danghier  caused  Matilda,  wm 
soon  succeeded  by  feelings  of  a  still  more  painful  nature,  the  reaull  of  a 
freah  difference  between  her  royal  husband  and  her  beloved  son  Robert 
Some  historians*  assert  that  this  was  occasioned  by  the  refusal  of  the 
prince  to  marry  the  young  and  lovely  heiress  of  Earl  Wallheof,  whicli 
greatly  displeased  his  father,  who  was  desirous  of  conciliating  his  En^ 
tish  subjects  by  such  an  alliance,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  making  some 
atonement  for  the  murder  of  the  unfortunate  Saxon  chief,  which  alH'ayi 
appears  to  have  been  a  painful  subject  of  reflection  to  him. 

About  this  time,  Matilda,  hearing  thai  a  German  hermit,  of  great  sanc- 
tity, was  possessed  of  the  gift  of  prophecy,  sent  lo  entreat  his  prayen 
for  her  jarring  son  and  husband,  and  requested  his  opinion  on  the  subject 
of  their  dissension.' 

The  hermit  gave  a  very  afTectionste  reception  to  the  envoys  of  (be 
queen,  but  demanded  three  days  before  he  delivered  his  reply  to  bet 
questions.  On  the  third  day  he  sent  for  the  messengeia,  and  gave  fail 
in  the  following  strain  of  oracular  allegory.  ^  Return  to  yon 
"  said  he,  "and  tell  her  I  have  prayed  to  God  in  her  behalf, and 

■OnlcricDi  Vitaljt.  ilie  moel  eloquent  a(  nil  llie  hUiorians  of  that  |ienod,  «•! 
Ibe  most  miiiulo  and  feilhrul  in  his  pptsonni  records  of  the  ConiiiiiTtir,  !„  .  .juo-l, 
d  fJimiJy,  vras,  DeTerlheless,  born  in  Kng^and,  &od  of  Anglo-SiH." 
■  u-Bs  leu  ycon  old  nl  Ilie  epoch  of  the  Koiman  invBsioo,  u  ■ 
««curity  tie  vrOM,  lo  use  his  own  languuBC.  "i-onyeyed  with  Wf<(i 
hia  n»iive  poontry,  lo  be  (fducBled  in  NormB!nly,8tlhe  conTent  cl  i' 
finally  l>«*me  so  deat  to  him,  tbat  oil  llie  aficctiona  of  bis  heart  nj ; 

red  within  its  boands.  In  hii  clmmicle  of  tha  NorniBn  soviniijn^  M 
a  nialcea  digrewioaa  of  a  hundred  pagM,  to  deseant  on  Si.  Eurala,  aad 
Iha  ineiiM  of  the  brethien  ofOuche. 
'  Benderton.  in  hit  Life  of  the  Conqaoror.  nates  thai  Robert  wag  tnucli  U 
ritli  ilie  beauly  of  Ihs  young  Saioa  liuly ;  but  that  bia  legord  Wu  by  no  uiMIil 
if  an  bonouiable  uature,  and  his  coniliicl  to  her  disfleBied  the  Coni^uorai  M 
nuch.  Ihsi,  10  punish  his  Mm  Ibi  innilu  offered  lo  bia  t-eaudfiil  ward,  be  forbail> 
im  (be  court  '  Ocdeiicui  Vitalii. 


MATILI^A    OF    FLAllDSmS.  67 

tfie  Most  High  has  made  known  to  me  in  a  dream  the  things  she  desires 
to  learn.  I  saw  in  my  Tision  a  heautiful  pasture,  covered  with  grass  and 
flowers,  and  a  noble  ehaiger  feeding  therein.  A  nnmerons  herd  gathered 
round  about,  eager  to  enter  and  share  the  feast,  but  the  fiery  charger 
would  not  permit  them  to  approach  near  enough  to  crop  the  flowers 
and  herbage. 

^  But,  das  ?  the  ra^estie  steed,  in  the  midst  of  his  pride  and  courage, 
diad,  his  terror  departed  with  him,  and  a  poor  silly  steer  appeared  in  his 
place,  as  the  guardian  of  the  pasture.  Then  the  throng  of  meaner  ani- 
mals, who  YuA  hitherto  feared  to  approach,  rushed  in,  and  trampled  the 
flowers  and  grass  beneath  their  feet,  and  that  which  they  could  not 
devour  they  defiled  and  destroyed.^ 

^  1  will  explain  the  mystery  couched  in  this  parable.  The  steed  is 
WiUiam  of  Normandy,  the  Conqueror  of  England,  who,  by  his  wisdom, 
courage,  and  power,  keeps  the  surrounding  foes  of  Normandy  in  awe. 
Robert  is  the  dull,  inactive  beast  who  will  succeed  him ;  and  then  those 
baser  sort  of  animals,  the  envious  princes,  who  have  long  watched  for 
the  opportunity  of  attacking  this  mir,  fruitful  pasture,  Normandy,  will 
overrun  the  land,  and  destroy  all  the  prosperity  which  its  present  sove- 
reign has  established.  Illustrious  lady,  if,  afler  hearing  the  words  of  the 
vision,  in  which  the  Lord  has  vouchsafed  to  reply  to  my  prayers,  you 
do  not  labour  to  restore  the  peace  of  Normandy,  you  will  henceforth 
behold  nothing  but  misery,  the  death  of  your  royal  spouse,  the  ruin  of 
all  your  race,  and  the  desolation  of  your  beloved  country."  ' 

This  clever  apologue,  in  which  some  sagacious  advice  was  implied, 
Matilda  took  for  a  prediction;  and  this  idea,  together  with  the  increasing 
dissensions  in  her  familv,  pressed  heavily  on  her  mind,  and  are  supposed 
to  have  occasioned  the  lingering  illness  which  slowly  but  surely  con- 
ducted her  to  the  tomb. 

This  illness  was  attended  with  great  depression  of  spirits.  She  en- 
deavoured to  obtain  comfort,  by  redoubling  her  devotional  exercises  and 
alms.  She  confessed  her  sins  frequently,  and  with  bitter  tears.'  It  is  to 
be  hoped  that  a  feeling  of  true  penitence  was  mingled  with  the  affliction 
of  the  queen,  who,  at  the  highest  pinnacle  of  earthly  grandeur,  afibrded 
a  melancholy  exemplification  of  the  vanity  and  insufficiency  of  the 
envied  distinctions  with  which  she  was  surrounded,  and  was  dying  of  a 
broken  heart 

As  soon  as  William,  who  was  in  England,  was  informed  of  the  danger 
of  his  beloved  consort,  he  hastily  emlmrked  for  Normandy,  and  arri^ 
tt  CSaen  in  time  to  receive  her  last  farewelL^ 

Afier  Matilda  had  received  the  consolations  of  religion,  she  expired 
on  the  2d  of  November,  or,  according  to  some  historians,  the  3d  of  that 
month,  anno  1083,  in  the  fifty-second  year  of  her  age,  having  borne  the 
title  of  queen  of  England  seventeen  years,  and  duchess  of  Normandy 
upwards  of  thirty-one. 

Her  body  was  carried  to  the  convent  of  the  Holy  Trinity  at  Oaen, 

>  Ordexieiis  Yitalit.  '  Ibid. 

•  Malmsbmy.  Hovedeo.  Ingalphiis.  Oidericni  YitaUi.      *  OitokraaNVaaS^ 


^ 


MATILDA    Op    PLANDBBfl. 


which  she  had  buill  and  mnnilicentlr  endowed.  The  corpse  of  tht 
queen-duchess  wai  reveranlially  received,  at  ihe  potuti  of  the  churrh, 
by  a  numerous  proceMJon  of  bishops  »im1  nbbots,  comlncUid  wii)iin  the 
choir,  and  depo§it«l  before  the  high  altar.  Her  obsequic«  were  eele- 
brated  with  ^real  ponip  and  solemruiy.  by  the  monka  and  rlerka,  and 
attended  by  a  vast  concourse  of  the  poor,  lo  whom  she  had  beea 
ihrougboDl  life  a  generooH  benefactress ;  •*  and  frequently,"  mti  Ordert* 
eui  Viialic,  >^  relieved  with  bounieoua  alma  iit  the  name  of  hn  R^ 
deenier." 

A  tnagnificenl  tomb  was  raised  to  her  memory,  by  her  sorrowing  lord, 
adorned  with  precious  stones  and  elaborate  sculpture ;  and  her  epitaph, 
in  Litin  verse,  was  emblazoned  tliereon  in  letter*  of  gold,  selling  foflk 
in  poaipoua  language  the  lofiy  birth  and  noble  qualities  of  the  illustriovi 
dead.  The  following  is  a  umnslation  of  the  quaint  monkish  tbywm, 
wbich  defy  the  imilaliTe  powers  of  modem  poetry  : — 

"  Hp™  rests  within  ibis  feii  and  ttatelj  lamb, 
MnIildB.  scion  of  a  r^i^I  linv  ; 
The  FlemiBh  duke  lire  lire ; '  and  Adelnia 
Her  nKMbei,  Id  gnat  Hnben,  kiiig  of  PnnB», 
Buigliiei,  and  finer  to  his  royal  belt- 
In  wedlocit  to  our  migliiy  WilJiun  joined. 
She  built  (his  boly  lample,  nod  endowed 
Wiih  IbqUi  and  gooilly  gifts.     Slie,  Ihe  true  fiiend 
Of  pi*iy.  and  (ooiber  of  distrera. 
Enriching  ixlien,  jndigenl  herself; 
Kuerviog  all  ber  ueofurH  ibr  ibe  pool; 
And,  by  sucb  deeds  as  these,  tb«  merited 
To  be  jmnaJiM  of  ew-rnal  life  : 
To  which  she  pasi'd  November  Sd,  1083." 

Matilda's  will,  which  is  in  the  imperial  Library  of  Paris,  in  the  rtft- 
ler  of  the  Abbey  of  the  Holy  Trinity  of  Cben,*  fnlly  bears  ooi  dw 
•aaertion  of  her  epitaph,  touching  her  poverty ;  aince,  from  the  items  in 
this  curious  and  inieresiing  record,  it  is  plain  that  the  Grst  of  onr  Angl'> 
Norman  queens  had  little  to  leave,  in  the  way  of  personal  propmy; 
and,  as  to  the  bulk  of  her  landed  possessions,  they  were  already  settled 
on  her  son  Henry.' 

••  I  pve,"  sayf  the  royal  testatrix,  "  to  the  Abbey  of  the  Holy  Trinity 
my  tunic  worked  at  Winchester,  by  Aideret's  wife;  and  the  inantle  em- 
broidered with  gold,  which  is  in  my  chamber,  to  mitke  a  cope.  Of  in* 
two  golden  girdles,  1  give  that  which  is  ornamented  with  cmblenu,  Icir 
the  purpose  of  suspending  ilie  lamp  before  the  great  altar. 

"  1  give  my  large  candelabra,  made  at  St.  Lo,  my  crown,  my  sceptre, 
my  in»p«  in  their  cases,  another  cup  made  in  England,  with  all  my  hont- 
ttxppings,  and  all  my  vessels ;  and.  lastly,  I  give  the  lands  of  <}aMchoa 
and  Coi«niiB,  except  those  which  1  may  already  hare  disposed  of  in  BT 

■  Baldwin,  Maillda's  Iklbei,  was  the  desccndnnl 

•orereigns  of  Flanders  were  called.  "Due       .^ 

'1  am  indebted  lo  (iie  private  conununicalion  of  that  great  b'lloiiaia  Pt.  Lia- 


MATILDA.OPFLANDERS.  69 

Blirtlitie,  wiih  two  dwellings  in  England ;  and  I  have  made  all  these 
ImudcsU  witli  ihe  eonsent  of  my  liusbaod." 

ft  is  aiaasine  lo  tnce  the  reminiiie  feeling  with  regard  to  dress  and 
hijouterie,  which  has  led  the  dying  queen  to  enumerate,  in  her  last  will 
•nd  teetamenL,  her  embroidered  tunic,  girdle,  and  mantle,  with  sundry 
othej  personal  decorations,  before  she  mentions  the  lands  of  Quetchou 
vid  Cotentin,  and  her  two  dwellings  in  England ;  which  are  evidently 
objecu  of  for  less  importance,  in  her  opinion,  than  her  rich  amy. 

Ducard  lelU  us,  that  among  the  records  preserved  in  the  archives  of 
the  Holy  Trinity  at  Caen,  there  is  a  curious  MS.  containing  an  account 
of  ttatil'la,  (he  roval  foundress's  wardrobe,  jewels,  and  toilette ;  but  he 
was  unable  to  obtain  a  sight  of  (his  precious  document,  because  of  the 
jealous  care  with  which  it  was  guarded  by  those  holy  ladies,  the  abbess 
and  nuns  of  that  convent.' 

Till  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  the  portraits  of  Matilda 
•nd  William  were  carefully  preserved  on  the  walls  of  Si.  Stephen's  Cha- 
pel Dt  Own.  The  queen  had  caused  these  portrails  to  be  painted  when 
itus  magiiilicenl  endowment  was  founded.'  We  have  seen,  by  the  Bayeux 
tapestry,  that  Matilda  took  great  delight  in  pictorial  memorials;  and  if 
we  may  judge  by  the  engraving  from  this  portrait,  preserved  in  Moat- 
fiuGon,  it  were  a  pity  that  so  much  grace  and  beauty  should  fade  from 
the  earth  without  remembrance.  Her  costume  is  singularly  dignified 
and  becoming.  The  robe  simply  gathered  round  the  throat,  a  flowing 
nil  &lliiig  Iram  the  back  of  the  head  on  the  shoulders,  is  confined  by 
an  elegant  circlet  of  gems.  The  fuce  is  beautiful  and  delicate,  the  hair 
&Us  in  waving  Iresaes  round  her  throat ;  with  one  hand  she  confines  her 
dt^MTy.  and  holds  a  book ;  she  extends  her  sceptre  with  the  other,  in 
U  Btutude  full  of  grace  and  dignity.  Mont&ucon  declares  that  thia 
painting  was  actually  copied  from  the  wall,  before  the  room  in  which  it 
WM  piMerved  was  pulled  down.  The  elegance  of  the  design  and  cos- 
tuow  ou^it  not  to  raise  doubts  of  its  authenticity,  for  it  is  well  known 
that  all  remains  of  art  were  much  belter  eiecuted  before  the  destruction 
of  Conslanlinople  than  alier  that  jteriod.  Female  costume,  with  the 
exemption  of  some  tasteless  attire  which  crept  into  the  uproarious  court 
of  Wiltiam  Rufus,  was  elegant  and  dignified ;  the  noble  circlet,  the  Itow- 
tng  tianspareni  veil,  the  natural  curls  parted  on  each  side  of  the  brow, 
the  vestal  stole  drawn  just  round  the  neck,  in  regidar  folds,  the  falling 
tl-'eve*,  the  gendy  belled  waist  with  its  gemmed  zone,  confining  the 

>t!i  of  a  garment  that  swept  the  ground  in  rich  fulness,  altogether 
i.rd  D  eostume  which  would  not  have  disgraced  a  Grecian  statue, 
ihall  see  this  elegant  dress  superseded  in  time,  by  the  monstrous 

n.ui  caps,  of  sugar-loaf  or  homed  form,  and  by  the  heraldic  tabards, 
aiid  vutcoata,  seemingly  made  of  patchwork,  which  deformed  female 
coatumca  in  succeeding  ages :  but  we  must  not  look  for  lliese  barbarisms 
■1  Uia  date  of  Matilda's  portrait. 

■tilda  bore  ten  children  to  her  royal  spouse,  namely,  fo 


I 


1 


^iltilda  bore  t 

Ik 


t  MoBinhte  Franfotm. 


I 


•ix  daoghtus.     Hoben,  »uriiRmed  Courlhogc,  her  eldest  boo,  succeeded 

his  failicr  as  duke  of  Nonuondy. 
Tills  darling  son  of  AUiildit's  heart  is  thus  described  in  the  old  chro- 

Bicler'a  lines; — 

■■  He  waa  r-woi  (gtowa)  era  faia  fiuler  to  Englanl  eune, 
Tliiok  roaa  lie  wai  Fnoiv,  but  nai  well  long; 
S<|iure  wBi  b«,  anJ  well  niBde  for  u>  be  ttiong. 
Belbia  his  lader,  once  on  h.  lime,  he  diJ  sturdy  d«d, 
Wliea  he  WH>  foung,  who  beheld  bim,  and  lliefe  word*  mid  : 
'By  the  upHsiog  of  God,  Robelyn  mo  toll  see 
The  Couithoae,  ray  young  son,  a  nalwrnit  bni)!lit  nit  be;' — 
Foi  hs  wai  lomewfaBl  shon,  lO  he  narnod  him  Couithote, 
And  he  might  nairar  alter  tliia  niune  Inie. 
He  was  quiet  or  couQsel  and  epeecli  >iiil  of  body  stiong. 
Never  yel  man  of  might  in  Chriaiendoni  ne  in  Payniin, 
In  batiail  from  bia  fttced  could  bring  luin  down.*^ 

After  the  death  of  Matilda,  Robert  broke  out  into  open  revolt  ogaiiM 
his  Toyal  father  once  more ;  and  the  Contiueror.  io  his  famous  death-btd 
speech  and  confession,  alluded  to  this  conduct  with  great  biltetoett, 
wliea  he  spake  of  the  disposition  of  his  dominions:  these  were  the 
words  of  the  dying  iDonarch.  "The  dukedom  of  Kortnandy,  before  I 
fou^t  in  Ihe  vale  Sauguelac,  with  Harold,  I  granted  unio  my  soti  Bi>- 
bert,  for  that  he  is  my  firsi  begotten,  and  having  received  the  homage  d 
his  baronage,  that  honour  given  cannot  be  revoked.  Yet  I  know  ihatil 
will  be  a  miserable  reign  which  is  subject  to  the  rule  of  his  goveniDMsL 
for  he  is  a  foolish,  proud  knave,  and  is  to  bo  puuishcd  with  end 
fortune," ' 

After  the  death  of  his  father,  Robert  acquired  the  additional  cognomen 
of  the  Unready,  ftom  the  circumstance  of  being  always  out  of  the  way 
when  the  golden  opportunity  of  iniproviitg  his  forlaoes  occurred. 

Kobert,  though  an  indiffeienl  politician,  was  a  gallant  knight  and* 
skilful  general.  He  joined  the  crusade  under  Godlrey  of  Boulugac, 
and,  to  obtain  the  funds  for  this  purpose,  mortgaged  the  dukedom  of 
Normandy  to  his  scllish  brother  William,  for  the  sura  of  six  thuunnd 
flii  hundred  and  stxty^six  pounds  of  silver.'  He  so  greatly  distinguisbtd 
himself  at  the  taking  of  the  holy  city,  that  of  ail  the  Christian  prioee*. 
his  fellow-crusaders,  he  was  judged  most  deserving  of  the  cronu  of 
JerUBOleni.'  This  eleclion  was  wade  on  the  Easler-evc,  as  tltey  all  stood 
U  the  high  altar  io  the  temple,  each  holding  an  unlighted  wax  lopetil 
his  hand,  and  beseeching  God  to  direct  their  choice ;  when  llie  t^ 
which  duke  Robert  held,  becoming  ignited  without  any  visible  AgsOfFi 
it  was  regarded  by  the  rest  of  the  Croises  as  a  miiaculous  inliioatioa  ■ 
bis  favour,  and  he  was  entreated  to  accept  the  kingdom.' 

Robert,  however,  at  that  critical  juncture,  hearing  of  the  death  of  Vt 
Itatn  Rufns,  refused  ilie  prolTered  diadem,  and  returned  to  Europe  under 
llie  idea  that  he  should  obtain  ilte  crown  of  England;  but  not  onlyfU 

■Sm  de«Lli4>ed  tpecch  of  the  Conquorm,  in  Sjieed's  Chronicle. 

'  S.  DunElm.     Bovedcn.     Brompton. 

'Maabew  P»at.    Poi/chnwiooo.    Speed.  *  ftbnhew  Patifc 


MATILDA    OF    FLANDSR8.  71 

ne  fail  of  dispoesessing  his  brother  Henry  of  England,  bnt  he  was  finally 
defeated  by  him  at  the  battle  of  Tinchebray,  stripped  of  his  dukedom, 
and  made  prisoner.  After  a  weary  captivity  of  eight-and-twenty  years, 
Robert  died  at  GardifiT  Castle.  While  in  the  Holy  Land,  he  had  married 
the  beautifid  and  amiable  Sybilla,  daughter  of  the  Count  Conversana,  by 
wliom  he  had  one  son,  named  William. 

Ricliard,  the  second  son  of  William  the  Conqueror  and  Matilda,  died 
in  England  in  the  lifetime  of  his  parents,  as  we  have  already  stated. 
William,  their  third  son,  surnamed  Rufus  or  Rous,'  from  the  colour  of 
Ills  liair,  and  called  by  die  Saxon  historians  the  ^  Red  King,''  succeeded 
to  the  crown  of  England  after  his  father's  death.  He  was  slain  in  the 
New  Forest,  by  the  erring  shafl  of  his  favourite  hunting  companion,  Sir 
Walter  Tyrrel,  whom  he  familiarly  called  Wat  de  Poix,  from  the  name 
of  Tyrrel's  estate  in  Picardy. 

Henry,  the  fourth  and  youngest  son  of  William  and  Matilda,  won  the 
surname  of  Beauclerc,  by  his  scholastic  attainments,  and  succeeded  to 
the  throne  of  England  after  the  death  of  William  Rufus.  The  personal 
history  of  this  prince  will  be  found  in  the  memoirs  of  his  two  queens, 
3Iatilda  of  Scotland  and  Adelicia  of  Louvaine. 

There  is  a  great  confusion  among  historians  and  genealogists,  respect* 
ing  the  names  of  the  daughters  of  Matilda  and  the  Conqueror,  and  the 
Older  of  their  birth,  no  two  writers  appearing  to  agree  on  that  point, 
except  with  regard  to  the  eldest  princess,  Cecilia,  who  was  veiled  a  nun 
in  the  Abbey  of  Fescamp,  and  became  the  abbess  of  the  nunnery  of  the 
Holy  Trinity,  founded  by  her  mother  Matilda.'  William  of  Malmsbury, 
who  wrote  in  the  reign  of  Henry  I.,  when  enumerating  the  daughters  of 
the  Conqueror,  says,  ^  Cecilia  the  abbess  of  Caen  still  survives." 

The  generality  of  historians  mention  Constance,  the  wife  of  Alan  duke 
of  Bretagne,  as  the  second  daughter  of  this  illustrious  pair.  Ordericus 
Vitalis,  a  contemporary,  calls  her  the  third,'  and  Agatha  the  second 
daughter.  Of  Agatha  he  relates  the  following  interesting  particulars. 
^  This  princess,  who  had  been  formerly  afiianced  to  Harold,  was  de- 
manded of  her  &ther  in  marriage,  by  Alphonso  king  of  Galicia ;  but 
manifested  the  greatest  repugnance  to  this  alliance."  She  told  her  father 
^  that  her  heart  was  devoted  to  her  first  spouse,"  as  she  called  Harold,^ 
^  and  that  she  should  consider  it  an  abomination  if  she  gave  her  hand  to 
another.  She  had  seen  and  loved  her  Saxon  betrothed,  and  she  revolted 
from  a  union  with  the  foreign  monarch  whom  she  had  never  seen ;"  and 
bursting  into  tears,  she  added,  with  passionate  emotion,  ^  that  she  prayed 
tliat  the  Most  High  would  rather  take  her  to  himself  than  allow  her  ever 
to  be  transported  into  Spain."  Her  prayer  was  granted,  and  the  reluc- 
tant bride  died  on  her  journey  to  her  unknown  lord.  Her  remains  were 
conveyed  to  her  native  land,  and  interred  at  Bayeux,  in  the  church  of 
St.  Mary  the  perpetual  virgin.*  Sandford  calls  this  princess  the  sixth 
daughter.  If  so,  she  could  not  have  been  the  betrothed  of  Harold,  but 
of  earl  Edwin ;  and  indeed,  if  we  reflect  on  the  great  disparity  in  age 

'^Apres  William  Bastardus  regna  Will  le  B^ut."-Fitz-Stepheii'8  Chronicle. 

•Ordericuf  Vitalia.    William  of  Malmsbury. 

•  Orderiom  Vitalis.    Malmsbury.  «Ibid.  ^TXvv^ 


[ 

I 


MATILDA    OF    PLASDKRS. 

between  Harold  and  the  younger  daughters  of  William  of  Xonnanily 
ami  take  into  tonsideratinn  the  circumBiancea  of  Iiis  breach  of  coninct 
with  the  lillle  Norman  lady,  and  tliat  he  died  the  liugbaiid  of  anuihcr 
woman,  il  ia  acarcely  proluihle  that  his  memory  could  have  been  cht- 
rixhed  with  nich  a  degree  of  pamionate  fondneea  as  OnJeriens  Vinlii 
Riiribule«  to  ihe  lady  Agatha;  whereas  Edwin  was  youn^,  and  reinafka- 
ble  for  his  beauty;  he  had,  in  all  probabilitj',  been  privileged  with  soini 
iniimary  with  the  princesii,  whom  the  Conqueror  had  promiaed  to  bestow 
on  him'  in  marriage.  The  breach  of  this  promise  on  ilie  pan  of  Wil- 
linni,  Ino,  was  the  nufe  of  Edwin's  revolt,  which  unplies  that  the  youth- 
fid  thane  was  deeply  wounded  at  ihe  refusal  of  ihe  Norman  monarch  li> 
fulfil  his  engagement;  and  il  is  at  least  probable,  thai  lo  the  princtn 
who  had  innocently  been  made  a  snare  to  him  by  her  ^ileful  eirc;,  lie 
mig'lit  have  become  an  object  of  the  lenderesl  and  most  lasting^  nfR-ctioii 

Malmsbnry,  apeakiiig  of  tliis  princess,  says,  "  Agallia,  lo  whom  Q«! 
gmnled  a  virgin  death,  was  so  devoted  to  the  exercises  of  religion,  ihal 
after  her  decease  it  was  discovered  thai  her  knees  had  become  hard  lOu 
horn  with  constant  kneeling." ' 

W.  Gcmiticejisis  and  some  other  ancient  chroniclers  assert,  that  il  n< 
lo  Adeliza,  the  Ghh  daughter  of  William  and  Matilda,  that  Hurold  wm 
contracled,  and  that  she  died  young.  Perhaps  this  is  the  same  princes* 
whom  Ordericus  Vilalis  mentions  as  iheir  fourth  daughter,  of  whom  ha 
Sdya.  "Adelaide,  very  &ir  and  very  noble,  recommended  herself  enltrely 
lo  a  life  of  devotion,  and  made  a  holy  end,  under  the  direciiou  of  Rapt 
de  Benumont." 

Adela,  or  Adelicia,  generally  classed  as  the  fourth  daughter  of  William 
and  MatddB,  Ordericus  Vitalis  places  as  the  fifili,  and  aavs,  "  She  «1> 
sought  in  marriage  by  Stephen  earl  of  Blois.  who  was  desirous  of  aflf- 
ing  himself  with  die  aspiring  bmily  of  the  Conqueror,  and  far  the  adrici 
of  William'a  councillors  she  was  united  to  him.  The  marriage  took 
^ace  al  Breleuil,  and  the  marriage  filtes  were  celebrated  at  Chartrei; 
This  princess  was  a  learned  woman,  and  possessed  of  considerable  dipb- 
matic  talents.  She  had  four  sons :  William,  an  idiot ;  Thibaul.  suraamed 
the  erent  earl  of  Cliampaigne;  Stephen  dc  Blois,  who  succeeded  to  tha 
EnglisR  throne  after  the  death  of  Henry  I.;  and  Henry,  bishop  of  Win- 
chesier.  After  Ihe  death  of  Ihe  count  de  Blois,  her  husband,  tlie  countew 
Adela  look  ihe  veil  al  Mareigiiey.' 

Gundrcd,  the  sixili  and  youngest  daughter  of  the  Conqueror  and  Ma- 
tilda, was  married  to  William  de  Warren,  a  powprfid  Norman  noble,«ad 
the  Ursi  earl  of  Surrey  in  England.  By  him  the  lady  Gundred  hsil  IWO 
aons,  William,  the  snccessor  of  his  faiher  and  the  progenitor  of  a  oUfitrf 
line  of  earls  of  that  family,  and  Rainold,  who  died  without  issue.  "H* 
counless  Gundred  died  in  chUd-bed  ai  Casdeacre  in  Norfolk,  anil  i* 
buried  in  the  chapter-house  of  Si.  Paneras  church,  within  the  priocyt*t 
Lewes  in  Sussex.* 

The  death  of  his  beloved  queen  Matilda  afHicted  ihe  Conqueror  very 
deeply.     He  wept  excessively,  for  many  days  aficr  her  decease ;  and  10 


'Old&riaa  FitaJia.    Jfalmsbniy. 


'Oidericut  Vltalu. 


XATIIiBA    OF    FLANDSmS.  73 

testily  how  keenly  he  felt  her  loss,  he  renounced  his  favonrite  amuse- 
ment of  hunting,  and  all  the  hoisterous  sports  in  which  he  formerly  de- 
lated.' After  this  event  his  temper  became  melancholy  and  irritable, 
Co  which,  indeed,  a  train  of  public  calamities  and  domestic  vexations 
might  in  a  great  measure  contribute.  To  the  honour  of  Matilda,  it  has 
been  assert^  by  some  of  the  historians  of  the  period,  that  she  used  her 
influence  over  ihe  mind  of  her  mighty  lord,  for  the  mitigation  of  the 
snfieringB  of  the  people  whom  he  had  subjugated  to  his  yoke.  Thomas 
Rndboome,  the  author  of  the  Annals  of  Winton,  says,  ^  King  William, 
by  the  advice  of  Bfatilda,  treated  the  English  kindly  as  long  as  she  lived, 
bat  after  the  death  of  Matilda  he  became  a  thorough  tyrant.'"  It  is 
certainly  true,  that  after  Matilda  left  England  in  1070,  the  condition  of 
the  people  became  infinitely  worse,  and  it  is  possible  that  it  might  be 
•ggimvated  by  her  death. 

Not  only  the  happiness,  but  the  worldly  prosperity,  of  William,  ap- 
peued  sensibly  dinunished  during  his  widowed  state.  In  the  course  of 
the  four  years  that  he  survived  his  consort,  he  experienced  nothing  but 
trouble  and  disquiet' 

William  met  with  the  accident  which  caused  his  death,  at  the  storm- 
ing of  the  city  of  Mantes.  He  had  roused  himself  from  a  sick  bed,  to 
execute  a  terrible  vengeance  on  the  French  border,  for  the  ribald  joke 
which  his  old  antagonist,  the  king  of  France,  had  passed  on  his  malady ; 
and  in  pursuance  of  his  declaration  ^  that  he  would  set  all  France  in  a 
Uaze  at  his  uprising,^'  he  had  ordered  the  city  to  be  fired.  While  he 
was  with  savage  fury  encouraging  his  soldiers  to  pursue  the  work  of 
destruction  to  which  he  had  incited  them,  his  horse,  chancing  to  set  his 
foot  on  a  piece  of  burning  timber,  started,  and  occasioned  his  lord  so 
severe  an  injury  from  the  pummel  of  the  saddle,  as  to  bring  on  a  violent 
access  of  fever/  Being  unable  to  remount  his  horse,  after  an  accident 
which  must  have  appeared  to  him  like  a  retributive  chastisement  for 
the  barbarous  deed  in  which  he  was  engaged,  he  was  conveyed  in  a 
litter  to  Rouen,  where,  perceiving  he  drew  near  his  end,  he  began  to  ex- 
perience some  compunctious  visitings  of  conscience,  for  the  crimes  and 
of^Messions  of  which  he  had  been  guilty. 

In  the  first  place,  he  ordered  large  sums  to  be  distributed  to  the  poor, 
ind  likewise  for  the  building  of  churches,  especially  those  which  he  had 
recently  burnt  at  Mantes ;  next  he  set  all  the  Saxon  prisoners  at  liberty 
irhom  he  had  detained  in  his  Norman  prisons ;  among  them  were  Mor- 
car,  and  Ulnoth,  the  brother  of  Harold,  who  had  remained  in  captivity 
from  his  childhood,  when  he  was  given  in  hostage  by  earl  (rodwin  to 
Gdward  the  Confessor.  The  heart  of  the  dying  monarch  being  deeply 
tonched  with  remorse,  he  confessed  that  he  had  done  Morcar  much 
MrroDg,  and  bitterly  bewailed  the  blood  he  had  shed  in  England,  and  the 
desolation  and  woe  he  had  caused  in  Hampshire,  for  the  sake  of  planting 

*  Ordericus  Viimlii. 

***  Ittiut  Matildis  consilio  Wilhelmus  Rex  pacifice  cum  Anglis  tractabat,  quam- 
din  ipsa  Tixisset;  post  mortem  vero  ipsius  Matildis  omnem  induit  tyrannidem." 
Winion,  Anglia  Sacra,  i.  257.    Thomae  Rudbome  Hist  Major. 

'Malmsbury.    Orderknu  ViuUiM.  *Malmft\>UTY.  lELvtL^tu 

VOL,  /.  —  7 


I 


IIATILDA    OF    FLAKDEBS. 

the  New  Forest,  prolealing  "  tliul  having  so  misused  Uiat  fnit  and  beanli- 
ful  laiiil,  lie  dated  not  appoint  a  successor  to  it,  but  left  ilie  disposal  «f 
that  nialiec  in  tlie  hands  gfGod." '  He  had,  however,  taken  some  pains, 
by  writing  a  letter  lo  lAufraiic,  expressive  of  his  earnest  wish  that  Wi- 
linm  Rufiis  should  succeed  him  in  his  regal  dignity,  and  to  aFcare  llw 
cruwn  of  England  to  lliia  his  favourite  son  —  for  whom  he  called,  u 
soon  as  tie  had  concluded  his  edifying  Dckiiowledgment  of  tlie  errors  of 
his  past  life; — and  sealing  the  letter  tviih  his  own  seal,  he  put  il  into 
the  hands  of  the  prince,  bidding  him  liasien  lo  England  with  all  speed, 
&iid  deliver  it  to  the  archbishop,  lie  (hen  blessed  him  with  a  farewell 
kiss,  nnd  dismissed  him. 

When  ilie  Conqueror  had  settled  his  temporal  af&irs,  he  caused  him- 
self to  be  removed  to  Hennenrnide,  a  pleasant  village  near  Rouen,'  dial 
iip  iiii^ht  be  more  at  liberty  lo  prepare  himself  for  death.  On  the  Sth 
of  September  the  awful  ctuinge  which  he  awaited  look  place.  Hearing 
ihe  sound  of  the  great  bell  in  the  metropolitan  church  of  Si,  Gervii, 
near  Rouen,  William,  tnising  his  exliausted  frame  from  the  supporliiif 
pillows,  asked  "What  it  mean!  ?"' 

One  of  his  aitendanis  replying,  "That  it  then  nag  prime  to  Onr 
lady."  llie  dying  monarch,  lifting  his  eyes  lo  heaven,  and  spreadit^ 
abroad  his  hands,  exclaimed, ''  ]  commend  myself  (o  that  blessed  Laity, 
Mary  the  mother  of  God,  that  she  by  her  holy  intercession  may  recon- 
cile me  lo  her  most  dear  Son,  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;"  and  with  ttme 
words  he  expired,  in  the  sixty-fourth  year  of  his  age.  1087,  after  a  leip 
of  fiAy-two  years  in  Normandy,  and  twenty-one  in  England. 

His  eldest  son,  Robert,  was  absent  in  Germany  at  the  lime  of  lia 
death ; '  William  was  on  his  voyage  to  England ;  Henry,  who  liad  ukeo 
i^rge  of  hia  obsequies,  suddenly  departed  on  some  self-inteiested  bmi- 
aees,  and  all  llic  great  officers  of  the  court  having  dispersed  themselrei, 
some  to  oiler  their  homage  lo  Robert,  and  others  to  William,  the  inb- 
tior  seri'ants  of  the  household,  wiili  some  of  their  rapacious  confale- 
lales,  look  the  opportunity  of  plundering  ihe  house  where  their  sorerrip 
bad  Jtiat  breathed  his  last,  of  all  the  money,  plate,  wearing  apparel,  hang- 
ings, and  precious  furniture;  lliey  even  stripped  the  pcrsou  of  the  royil 
dead,  and  leit  his  body  naked  upon  the  floor) 

Every  one  appeared  struck  with  consternation  and  dismay,  and  neilbn 
tlie  proper  officers  of  slate,  nur  (he  sons  of  the  deceased  king,  issniif 
the  necessary  orders  respecting  the  funeral,  the  remains  of  the  Con- 
queror were  left  wholly  neglected,  till  Ilerlewin,  a  poor  country  kniglitt 
—  but  in  ail  prohabilily  the  same  Herlewiu  who  married  his  lnoliler.A^ 
lolla, — undertook  lo  convoy  die  royal  corpse  lo  Caen  at  his  own  eo* 
lor  intcnneni  in  the  abbey  of  St.  Stephen,  where  il  was  met  by  piian 
Henry  and  a  procession  of  monks.*  Scarcely,  however,  had  the  ddo^ 
riles  comnieiTced,  when  ihere  was  a  terrible  alarm  of  fire  in  thai  qntitff 
tif  the  town ;  and  as  there  was  great  danger  of  the  devouring  cIcimhI 
tommnnicatiug  to  the  cloisters  of  St.  Stephen,  the  monks,     '  '" 

■  Sm  William '■  death-lwd  coiireuiun  in  tpoed.  ■  EadiDft. 

'  Oniericat  \ itniit.    BfitlmBbuiy.  *Ord«riciu  Vitalii.     BroineoA 

*Ont»ficaa  ritafik,     firomplon.    Mntmtbuif.    Spead. 


MATILDA    OF    FLA1IDSR8.  75 

more  coneemed  for  the  preservation  of  their  stately  abbey  than  for  the 
lifeless  reoiains  of  the  munificent  founder,  scampered  out  of  the  church, 
without  the  slightest  rmrd  to  decency,  or  the  remonstrances  of  prince 
Henry  and  the  fiuthful  Herlewin.  The  example  of  the  ecclesiastics  was 
followed  by  the  secular  attendants,  so  that  the  hearse  of  the  mighty  Wil- 
liam was  in  a  manner  wholly  deserted,  till  the  conflagration  was  sup- 
pressed.' The  monks  then  re-entered  the  holy  &ne,  and  proceeded  with 
the  solemnity,  if  so  it  might  be  called ;  but  the  interruptions  and  acci- 
dents with  which  it  had  been  marked  were  not  yet  ended ;  for  when  the 
funeral  sennon  was  finished,  the  stone  coffin  set  in  the  grave  which  had 
been  dug  in  the  chancel  between  the  choir  and  the  altar,  and  the  body 
ready  to  be  laid  therein,*  Anselm  Fitz-Arthur,  a  Norman  gentleman, 
stood  forth  and  forbade  the  interment :  ^  This  spot,''  said  he,  ^^  was  the 
site  of  my  fiither's  house,  which  this  dead  duke  took  violently  from  him, 
and  here,  upon  part  of  mine  inheritance,  founded  this  church.  This 
ground  I  therefore  challenge,  and  1  charge  ye  all,  as  ye  shall  answer  it 
at  the  great  and  dreadful  day  of  judgment,  that  ye  lay  not  the  bones  of 
the  despoiler  on  the  hearth  of  my  fathers.''* 
The  eflect  of  this  bold  appeal  of  a  solitary  individual,  was  an  instant 

giose  in  the  burial  rite  of  the  deceased  sovereign.  The  claims  of  Anselm 
itz-Arthur  were  examined,  and  his  rights  recognised  by  prince  Henry, 
who  prevailed  upon  him,  as  the  lawful  owner  of  the  soil,  to  accept  sixty 
•hillings  as  the  price  of  the  grave,  and  to  sufler  the  interment  of  his  royal 
&ther  to  proceed,  on  the  condition  of  his  pledging  himself  to  pay  the 
fall  value  of  the  rest  of  the  land.^  The  compensation  was  stipulated 
between  Anselm  Fitz-Arthur  and  prince  Henry,  standing  on  either  side 
the  grave,  on  the  verge  of  which  the  unburied  remains  of  the  Conqueror 
rested,  while  the  agreement  was  ratified,  in  the  presence  of  the  mourners 
and  assistant  priests  and  monks,  whereby  Heniy  promised  to  pay,  aifd 
Fitz-Arthur  to  receive,  one  hundred  pounds  of  silver,  as  the  purchase  of 
the  ground  on  which  William  had,  thirty-five  yeara  previously,  wrong- 
fully founded  the  abbey  of  St  Stephen's,  to  purchase  a  dispensation  from 
tbepope  for  his  marriage  with  his  cousin  ]VIatilda  of  Flanders. 

The  bargain  having  been  struck,  and  the  payment  of  the  sixty  shillings 
earnest  money  f for  Sie  occupation  of  the  seven  feet  of  earth,  reauireNd, 
u  the  last  aboae  of  the  Conqueror  of  England)  being  tendered  by  the 
prince  and  received  by  Fitz-Arthur, — strange  interlude  as  it  was  in  a 
royal  funeral^— the  obsequies  were  suflered  to  proceed.  According  to 
some  historians,  an  accident  occurred  in  placing  the  lid  on  the  stone 
coffin,  attended  with  such  unpleasant  results  that  moumera,  monks,  and 
tssistant  priests,  afler  vainly  censing  the  chancel  with  additional  clouds 
of  incense,  fled  the  church  a  second  time  before  the  intennent  was  com- 
pleted.* This  tale,  inasmuch  as  it  was  refuted  by  the  appearance  of  the 
royal  remains  when  the  grave  was  opened  upwards  of  four  hundred  and 
fifty  years  afterwards,  we  are  disposed  to  regard  as  a  piece  of  mingled 

' Ordericut  Titalis.    Speed.    Brompton.     Malmsbury.  'Speed. 

*£admer.    Kalmtbury.    OrdericuB  Vitalis.       « Ordericui  Vitalis.    M.  Paris. 
*Se«  Spoed^s  Gmmicle. 


I 


76  MATILDA    OP    FLANDEKS. 

mnrrellonsnest  and  malice  on  the  part  of  the  Saxon  chrowielem.  who 
ha™  uken  eridenl  pleasure  in  enlarging  on  all  the  miadiances  mid  hu- 
miliations which  befel  the  unconscious  clay  of  their  great  nat iottal  ndm- 
Mry,  in  its  psasa|;e  to  the  tomb.  Tet  anrely  so  singular  a  chaprer  of 
accidents  was  ne»er  yet  recorded,  as  occurring  to  the  corpse  of  a  mighty 
■orerdgn,  who  died  in  the  plenitude  of  his  power. 

Wiltiani  of  Normandy  was  remarkable  fur  his  personal  strength,  and 
foi  the  majestic  beauty  of  his  countenanre.  It  has  he^i  said  of  him, 
that  no  one  but  himself  could  bend  his  bow,  and  that  he  conid,  when 
riding  al  full  speed,  discharge  eiiherarblast  or  long-bow  with  nncrringaim,' 

Ilia  forehead  was  high  and  bold,  his  aspect  stem  and  commanding; 
yet  he  could,  when  it  pleued  him  to  do  so,  assume  such  winning  swwt- 
nes9,  in  his  looks  and  manner,  as  could  scarcely  be  resisted ;  but  when 
in  anger,  no  man  could  meet  the  terror  of  hia  eye.'  Like  Saul,  he  waa, 
from  the  shoulders  upwards,  taller  ihao  the  rest  of  his  subjects;  hm 
before  he  became  too  corpulent,  his  ligure  was  finely  proportioned.  Hii 
eloquence  was  both  powerful  and  persuasive.  His  habits  were  tempv- 
niie,  and  hia  household  was  well  regulated,  with  a  view  to  the  striclesi 
economy;  yet  npon  proper  occasions  he  indulged  his  taste  for  magnifi- 
cence, and  took  pleasure  in  appearing  in  all  his  royal  ajate.  He  wote 
hie  crown  three  limea  in  the  year;'  al  Christmas  or  Midwinteriiay,  in 
(he  city  of  Gloucester;  Easter  at  Winchester;  end  when  he  celebrttad 
Whiisimtidc,  at  Westminster.  Ue  wisely  cairied  his  court,  it  aeena,  It 
these  festivals,  to  diltreni  parts  of  England. 

William  Rufus  caused  a  stalely  monument,  adorned  with  gold.  aSfw, 
and  precious  stones,  and  very  rich  scnlpture,  to  be  ereetoJ  to  the  tnemofy 
of  liis  lather,  before  the  high  altar  of  Sl  Stephen's  Abbey.' 

The  loftiness  of  stature  which  contemporary  chroniclers  hare  ascribed 

to  William  the  Conqueror.  wa.»  fully  confirmed  by  the  posl-morlem  e»- 

^    amination  of  his  body,  which  was  made  by  the  Bishop  of  Baj-eux,  in  ths 

year  IS-IZ,  when,  prompted  by  a  strong  desire  to  behold  the  remains  of 

this  great  sovereign,  he  obtained  leave  to  open  his  tomb.* 

On  removing  the  stone  cover,  the  body,  which  was  corpulent,  and 
exceeding  in  stature  the  tallest  man  then  known,  appeared  as  entire  t> 
when  it  was  first  buried. 

Within  the  tomb  lay  a  plate  of  copper  gilt,  on  which  was  engraved  fl 
ma«ription  in  Latin  verse.* 

'Bobuit  ur Glauoester.    W.  Maliiubuiy.  *W.  Malmabniy. 

*Saxon  Annali.     Oidericu*  Viulu.    Modoi,  HiiLEicbequer. 
*Otilc[icus  Ti»lu.  'Ducatel'a  Ifoimsn  Anliquitiei. 

•Thomnt,  nrchbUliop  of  York,  WM  the  author  of  the  Latin  vers*,  of  wtikbtl> 
tiUowinR  linei  preienl  >  oloBe  translation  not  nnpoeticB]  in  iu  antique  ail 

Ho  who  Ibo  uninlf  Nonniina  rnlcd,  and  over  England  reiened, 

And  •tnuilj'  won  and  ntongly  kepr  what  he  bad  i»  obuinsd ; 

And  ilid  the  iwonli  of  llioae  of  Maine  bf  torce  bring  under  awa 

And  ir.ade  ihem  under  his  commund  live  lubjecl  to  his  lew ; 

This  gi»at  King  Willism  lieib  bete  enioral«d  in  litlle  giave; 

So  great  a  lord,  to  nnail  a  hoiue  sufficeth  him  to  have. 

VThen  PhiEbiu  in  the  Virgia'a  lap  hi*  circled  course  applied, 
Aad  (wenty-ilme  degnea  had  put,  e'en  ai  that  time  le  died. 


whkbtia 
>pbaM 


MATILDA    OF    FLAKDBSS.  77 

The  bishop,  who  wn  grMtly  surprbed  at  finding  the  body  in  such 
perfect  presemitiGii,  caueed  b  painting  to  be  executed  of  the  royal  re- 
mains, in  the  slate  in  which  they  tJben  appeared,  by  the  best  artist  in 
Cben,  and  canaed  it  to  be  hung  up  on  ths  abbey  wall^  opposite  to  the 
BKMiiiiiient  The  tonb  was  thin  carefully  closed,  but  in  1562,  when 
the  Calvinists  under  Chastillon  took  Caen,  a  party  of  the  rapacious  sol- 
diers forced  it  open,  in  hope  of  meeting  with  a  treasure,  but  finding 
nothing  more  than  the  bones  of  the  Conqueror  wrapped  in  red  tafieta, 
they  threw  them  about  the  church  in  great  derision,  viscount  Falaise, 
haTing  obtained  firom  the  rioters  one  of  the  thigh-bones,  it  was  by  him 
deporatod  in  the  royal  gm?e.  Monsieur  Le  Bras,  who  saw  this  bone, 
tsstified  thai  k  was  longer  by  the  breadth  of  his  four  fingers  than  that 
of  the  tallest  man  he  had  ever  seen.' 

The  picture  of  the  remains,  which  had  been  painted  by  the  order  of 
the  bishop  of  Bayenx,  fell  into  the  hands  of  Peter  Hdo,  the  goaler  of 
Cben,  who  was  one  of  the  spoilers,  and  he  converted  one  part  into  a 
taUe,  and  the  other  into  a  cupboard  door ;  which  proves  that  this  por- 
trait was  not  painted  on  canvas,  but  as  usual,  on  wood.  Some  years 
after,  these  curious  relics  were  discovered,  and  reclaimed  by  M.  Bras,  in 
whose  possession  diey  remained  till  his  death.' 

Jjfo  sooner  had  die  Calvinist  spoilers  plundered  the  abbey  of  St  Ste- 
phen, and  exhumed  the  bones  of  the  Conqueror,  than  they  entered  the 
church  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  threatening  the  same  violence  to  the  remains 
of  Biatilda.  The  entreaties  and  tears  of  the  abbess  and  her  nuns  at  first 
had  no  efilect  on  the  rapacious  bigots,  who  considered  the  destruction  of 
church  ornaments  and  monumental  sculpture  an  acceptable  service  to 
God,  quite  sufficient  to  atone  for  the  sacrilegious  violence  of  de&cing  a 
temple  consecrated  to  his  worship,  and  rifling  the  sepulchres  of  the 
deM.*  In  this  instance  they  contented  themselves  with  throwing  down 
the  monument,  breaking  to  pieces  the  effigies  of  the  queen,  which  lay 
thereon,  and  opening  the  grave  in  which  the  royal  corpse  was  deposited. 
At  that  juncture,  one  of  the  party  observing  that  there  was  a  gold  rinff 
set  with  a  fine  sapphhre  on  one  of  the  queen^s  finffers,  took  it  ofl^  and, 
with  more  gallantry  than  might  have  been  expected  from  such  a  person, 
presented  it  to  die  abbess,  Madame  Anna  de  Montmorenci,  who  after- 
wards gave  it  to  her  &ther,  the  baron  de  Conti,  constable  of  France, 
when  he  attended  Charles  the  Ninth  to  Caen,  in  the  year  1563.* 

In  1642  the  monks  of  St  Stephen  collected  the  bones  of  their  ro3ral 
patron,  William  of  Normandy,  and  built  a  plain  altar-shaped  tomb  over 
them,  on  the  spot  where  the  original  monument  stood  in  the  chancel. 
The  nuns  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  with  equal  zeal,  caused  the  broken  frag- 
ments of  MatOda's  statue  and  monument  to  be  restored,  and  placed  over 
her  grave,  near  the  middle  of  the  choir,  on  a  tomb  of  black  and  white 
marble,  three  feet  hiffh  and  six  long,  in  the  shape  of  a  cofiin,  surrounded 
with  iron  spikes,  and  hung  with  ancient  tapesti^.' 

The  restored  monument  of  Matilda  remained  undisturbed  till  nearly 
the  close  of  the  kst  century,  when  die  French  republicans  paid  one  of 

^Docarert  Norman  AntiquitiM.  •lUd.  •Ibid.  «U»4.         *\\>'A. 

7* 


Its  matilda    of    FLANDERS. 

I  their  destructive  Tisila  lo  the  church  of  ihe  Holy  Trinity  at  Caen,  viH, 
I  among  other  ouliagea  against  taste  and  feeling,  awepl  away  this  memo- 

ial  of  its  royal  foundiesB ; '  but  while  a  single  arch  of  that  majestic  and 
I  time-honoured  fane,  the  church  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  survives,  the  first 

if  our  Anglo-Nonnan  queens,  Matilda  of  Flanders,'  will  require  no 

ither  monument. 

*  In  ailditioii  to  our  nuiueroni  aJilhoritiei  regardjag  Bribtric  Hcaw,  we  nibjain 
Ilia  important  extract  from  a  work  conUtininjf  gzest  reKarch  among  fcncieni 
lODumpnia  >^-  Brielric,  the  Kin  of  Algar.  h  ^oion  Thane,  ia  itated,  in  Domeidmr, 
)  tinve  held  this  mitnor  in  the  leign  or  Edward  ibe  Conresrar  j  bal  having  giTea 

I  offence  lo  Maoil,  iha  dBiifthtGi  of  Baldwin  count  of  Flaodara,  preTioui  id  hei 
ifltringe  widi  William  duke  of  Normundy,  by  refusing  lo  marir  her  himsell^  liif 
ropeily  waa  leizBd  bf  llial  monarch  on  the  conquest,  and  beatowed,  aeeiaioftf 

■  in  revenge,  upon  theqoeen." — Blub*!  lEMtor)  of  Thonibur/ Cattlt.    BiiMol,  IBM. 


MATILDA  OF   SCOTLAND. 

QUEEN    OF    HENRT    I. 


CHAPTER  I. 

n  Alfred — Margaret  Alhsling,  her  iM> 
aiiUlas  hirilj— Hat  god&iher— Eduom- 
■uitor— Her  falher  inTaaDs   England— Hit  death—Kcr  moOier's 
i9  dtarh — Revolulion  in  Scollniid — Kdgai  Alheling  cnrriet  ibe  royal 
o  BnslBDd — Ptinceuet  Maiitila  and  Mary — Placed  ia  Rumiry  abbey — 
•bbe*3  Chrittina — Matilda's  brother  Edgar — Regtored  to  ths  IbioniB 
I— The  Aiheling  a  crutadei— Maulda  at  Wilton  Abbey— Her  lito- 
J  education — Atlacbmeni  beiwtcn  ^latilda  and   Henry  BcBUclerc — Uet 
on— Eaily  life  of  Henrx^E.1uca<i(iD  al  Caiolitidge — Satname— Lil»- 
li  by  him — Legacy  at  thp  Conqueroi's  death — Poverty  or  Henry — 
d  by  Matilda's  (uitor,  eari  Watren — Couilship  of  Matilda — Harah  ralo 
ly  Chititina — Henry  wire*  EnBlinh  tbrone — AikiMaiilda'i  baud — Oppo- 
n  of  her  auni — Council  of  iho  church — Matilda')  evidence— Her  acruplea 
IbipottuDBd  by  Anglo-Saions — CoiiwiiM — Address  lo  hot  by  Anselm — Con- 
It  sf  Um  peopls— Hdi  moiringe  and  coioaatjOD — Saxon  laws  restored. 

r  we  consider  Ihe  perils  lo  which  the  repreBentativeB  or  our 
ml  IIdc  or  sovereigns,  Edgar  Athcliiig  ai\i  his  sisters,  were  exposed 
feinj  die  ustirpalioti  of  Harold,  and  the  Normsn  reigns  of  terror,  it 
^osl  appears  as  if  an  overruling  Providence  had  guarded  these  descend- 
■B  of  the  great  Alfred,  for  the  purpose  of  continuing  the  lineHge  of  that 
priol  king  on  Uie  throne  of  these  realms,  through  the  marriage  of 
oaij  I.  with  the  daughter  of  Margaret  Aiheling,  Matilda  of  Scotland. 
TUt  princeas,  iho  subject  of  our  present  biography,  is  distinguished 
Wonj  ihe  many  illustrious  femoks  that  have  worn  the  crown  inatrimo- 
'■'-li  of  Englanii,  by  the  title  of  "  the  Good  Queen ;"  a  title  which,  elo- 
ni  in  its  simplicity,  briefly  implies  thai  she  possessed  not  only  the 
'11  and  ahining  qualities  calculated  to  add  lustre  to  a  throne,  but  that 

■  employe*]  them  in  promoting  the  happiness  of  all  classes  of  her 
'j^«ts,  alibttJing  at  the  same  lime,  a  bright  example  of  llie  lovely  and 
.roriDg  attributes  which  should  adorn  (lie  female  character, 

S.KiK  liistoriotis  call  this  princess  Slalilda  Aiheling.  and  by  these  she 
i)nww  inresled  with  ihc  digtiiiy  of  a  queen-regnant,  and  styled  ihe 
am  ot  the  Anglo-Saxon  monarchs.     In  tlie  same  spirit,  her  grandson 

■  rmrcKntative,  Henry  H.,  is  desiffnated  "  the  restorer  of  the  EiigHsli 
"  'u  iftie,"    This  is,  however,  ns  Blackslone  justly  observes,  «  a  great 

'  ',  for  tJie  rights  of  Margaret  Aiheling  to  the  English  succession  were 
'  '1'-^  in  ber  sons,  and  not  in  her  daughter."  '     James  I.,  on  hia  acces- 


llacksiODo'^  CiiiniiieaUitiet,  Vol,  i, 


(,i«i 


) 


tioB  lo  lite  throne  of  EiiglBitd,  faileil  not  lo  set  forlh  that  important  leaf 
in  his  neiligree,  and  laid  clue  slresa  on  ilie  circumstance  of  his  deacrat 
from  tlie  aiicieni  line  of  English  aovereigns  by  the  elder  bloixj. 

Alexander,  the  archdeacon  of  Salisbury  (who  wrote  the  iracia  of  the 
Exchequer,  quoted  by  Gervase  of  Tilbury  in  hii  celebrated  Dialogue! 
of  the  Exchequer),  has  gruvely  eel  forlh,  in  his  red-book,  a  pedigree  of 
Matilda  of  ScuUiiiid,  tracing  her  ilesreni  in  an  unbroken  line  up  to  Adam. 
There  is  a  strange  medley  of  Christian  kings  and  pagan  sinners,  such  ai 
Woden  and  Balder,  with  the  Jewish  patriarchs  of  holy  writ,  in  ihii 
royal  genealogy.' 

Matilda  ia  the  only  princess  of  Scotland  who  ever  shared  the  ihroiu 
of  a  king  of  England.  It  is,  however,  from  her  maternal  ancestry  th^ 
■he  derives  her  great  interest,  us  connected  with  the  nnnals  of  ihia  eona- 
Iry.  Her  mother,  Margaret  Alheling,  was  the  grand-daughter  of  Edmund 
Ironside,  and  the  daughter  of  Edward  Aiheltng,  aumamed  the  Outlaw,  by 
Antha,  daughter  of  t)ie  emperor  Uenry  II.  of  Germany.  Her  broiler, 
fidgar  Aihefing.  bo  often  mentioned  in  the  preceding  biography,  fnling 
•ome  reason  to  mislrust  the  apparent  friendship  ^  William  the  Coth 
querot,  privately  withdrew  from  his  court,  and  in  the  year  1068,  (ifae 
some  year  in  which  Henr}-  I.  was  bora,)  took  shipping  with  Mugaid, 
■nd  their  younger  sister  Christina,  and  their  motlier  Agatha,  intending  lo 
■eek  a  refuge  in  Hungary,  wilh  their  royal  kindred  j  but,  by  stress  of 
ireather,  the  vessel  in  which  they,  with  many  other  English  exiles,  wm 
embarked,  was  driven  into  the  Friih  of  Forth.  Malcolm  Canmore,  th« 
young  unmarried  kine  of  Scotland,  who  had  just  regained  his  dominioH 
from  the  usurper  Macbeth,  happened  to  be  present  when  the  royal  fugi- 
tives landed,  and  was  so  struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  lady  Marganl 
Aibetmg,  that  in  a  few  days  he  asked  her  in  marriage  of  her  broihn. 
Edeir  Joyfully  gave  the  hand  of  the  dowerleas  princess  to  the  youig 
aaa  handsome  sovereign,  who  had  received  tlie  exiled  English  in  the 
fnoat  generous  and  honourable  manner,  and  whose  disinterested  BfieciioB 
«as  sulficicnt  testimony  of  iJie  nobleness  of  his  disposition.  The  »(ial 
where  Margaret  first  set  her  foot  on  the  Scottish  land  was,  iu  roemocy 
of  thai  circumstance,  called  Queen's  Ferry,  the  name  it  bears  to  this  iby- 

The  Saxon  rltronicler,  of  whom  this  lady  is  an  especial  lavounUf 
indulges  in  a  most  edifying  homily,  on  the  providence  which  lod  Hx 
holy  ilargnret  to  become  the  spouse  of  the  king  of  Scotlaml,  wltuis 
evidently  regarded  by  ihe  cowled  historian  as  liiiie  better  than  a  pwan- 
■Certain  it  is,  llml  the  mighty  son  of  "  the  gracious  Duncan"  could  nei- 
ther rend  nor  write.  After  her  roarriage,  the  Sason  princess  became  lltf 
happy  insinimeut  of  dilTusing  the  blessings  of  Christianiiy  ihroughoDi 
Iter  bueband's  dominions,  commencing  the  work  of  conversioti  in  iIm 
proper  place,  her  own  household  and  the  court.  The  inf1ti<-ncc  whick 
tier  personal  charms  had  in  the  first  instance  won  over  Ihe  heart  of  bs 
ro}*al  husband,  her  virtues  and  mental  powers  increased  and  retained  U 
the  last  hour  of  Malcolm's  existence,  ile  reposed  the  most  unbuundal 
eon&Ienoe,  not  only  in  the  principles,  but  tlie  judgment,  of  hie>  Eu^ob 

■Ub.fiub.fol.  DQUta,  4.  I 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLASD-  Sf 

,  wlin  hcTuiir!  the  Joiuesiic  legjslalnr  of  the  realm.     She  tiia- 

laispnl  from  ibe  palace  all  persona  «ho  were  eonvieled  of  lending  iin-. 

■nontl  lirws  or  who  nete  gniliy  of  frniid  or  injustice,  ftiid  oIIowmI  n* 

pcooDS  lu  l)ulil  oflices  in  llic  roynl  huueeholil,  unlese  tliey  conilucted 

lIumBL-liies  in  a  solier  and  Oiscceei  manner;  observing,  moreover,  that 

tlte  Scutch  nobles  haU  an  irreverent  babit  of  rising  from  lAble  before 

gnee  could  be  pronuunced  by  her  pious  chaplain  Turgot,  she  rewarded 

!•■•  "f  the  more  civiliied  chiefs,  who  cnuiil  be  induced  to  nticnd  the 

r.>rninnce  a(  thiu  edifying  ceremony,  with  b  cup  of  the  chi.iicest  wine. 

.'    irtnptation  of  such  a  bribe  vtOB  too  ytovetful  to  be  resisled  by  ibe 

..'lierlo  iierverse  and  graceless  peers,  and  by  degrees  llie  custom  became 

?n  popiiliir,  Ib&l  every  guest  was  eager  to  claim  his  "  grace-cup ;"  llie 

futuoii  spread  from  the  palace  to  ihe  casiles  of  the  nnbiliiy,  and  thence 

ijricrnditig  to  the  dwellings  of  their  humbler  neighbours,  became  an 

aiabli^lied  usage  in  the  bnd. 

Many  deeply  interesting,  as  well  na  amtieing  particulars,  connected 
■lib  llie  parrnts  of  .Muldda  of  Scotlniid,  the  subject  of  our  pretuni 
lueuioir,  have  been  preserved  by  the  learned  Tnrgot,  the  historian  ot 
thi»  roval  faaiily,  who,  in  his  capacity  of  confessor  lo  queen  Margaret, 
tod  pfvceptor  to  her  children,'  enjoyed  opportunities  of  becoming 
■opainif^  not  only  with  all  pteraonal  particulars  respecting  these  iliu*- 
UiMii  yulitjdiuUt  but  of  learning  their  most  private  thoughts  and 
Uiofs. 

Toigot  gives  great  commendation  to  hra  royal 
lOHUione  care  she  bestowed  on  the  education  o 
fRcefitors  she  enjoined  to  punish  tbein  aa  oAen  a 
mncitoa. 

lUolda,  the  aubjecl  of  this  memoir,  was  her  eldest  daughter,  and  was 
Inbably  bom  in  the  year  1077.  This  we  infer  from  the  remarkable 
t:irctDiw(ftnc&,  of  the  elder  brother  of  her  future  husband,  Robert  Cour^• 
k<M,  bring  her  godfather.'  Malcolm  C^more,  her  father,  invaded  En^ 
InJ  in  ihnt  year,  nnd  Robert  of  Normandy  was,  on  his  reconciliation 
*iib  li»  father,  William  the  Conqueror,  sent  with  a  military  force  to 

'Tarfnit  wu  H  !<uon  or  good  fiunilf,  bom  in  Lincoltiiliire.     He  U 
u  s  hiutajie  lu  WlliUun  lb*  G>iu]ueror,  and  thut  up  by  bim  ia  Lincoln  Cottle.  .. 
ftm  ikmc*  b*  ficapFil  to  Norwajr.    Returning  rioai  tbsi  oouDDy,  lie  was  tbip-  ■ 
■wkpd  an  the  Eutiluh  coast,  and  having  loil  cvprj^biog  ha  poB9<H9c<l  il 
•MM,  W  I>Hsin«  ■  pcjen,  Bad  diiliiiguijhed  hintiaJf  k>  muoh  by  hi>  lea; 
n4  fi»tj  tb&l  tie  Wfti  pramolad  to  be  prior  of  Durliam.     WhOD  Margaret  Alhalx^ 
i^  boniae  qui^eo  of  Siwiland  ihe  prerecred  him  lo  the  office  of  ber  conleuor. 
B*  ((Ubwb^  itie  IbTninef  of  hia  rojrai  pupil  Matilda,  iha  dsugbier  of  hU  illunri- 
<«  IMfoani,  aArt  htr  mafnage  with  Qeaty  I.  i  and  we  find  Ibat  lh«  Englidl 
n»>ai«.L,  mhn  (xMiibljr  wialied  to  remove  biin  fiom  the  qoeen,  in  1107  WBjml^ 
"■■Dnwnded  biin  hj  his  royal  bmihei-in-law,  Edgar  of  Sooitaad.  as  a  fii  perioii 
■  h«  ifipointed  to  iha  bisbopria  of  Sl  Aodiew't.     Tuigol,  bowevei.  died  prior 
'tr^tbaiii       He  is  laiil  (o  have  been  the  author  of  the  ■' Chioniole  of  Duibam," 
»*kfc  |oe*  by  the  aamo  of  »  Simeon  of  Durhnin,"  and  has  been  approptiaied 
kf  a  aoDMoiponirj  monk  vf  tbU  nune.     Turgol't  Chrooicle  of  the  Lives  of  hi* 
■(fal  mixrrai,  Margaret  Alheling.  and  her  consort,  Malcolm  Caiunore,  king  of 
i°Wka4.  ba*   been  prefcrieil   by  Fordun,  and  ii  ftaquentlj  cited  hj  fia  D&v\& 
f^tUwgila.  -Htcbolsen.    Utuuj'.  '  Sat  J .  tUy ward. 


I 


B,  for  the  con- 
lier  children,  whose 
their  bulls  required 


I 
I 


I 
» 
I 

I 


MLDA     OF    iC'OTLA^n. 

rep«l  this  northem  attack.'  Boherl,  finding  his  forces  inaiircjiiHte  in 
maintain  successfully  h  vor  of  aggression,  eniered  into  a  negntiation  with 
the  Scottish  inonarch,  which  emied  in  a  frientlly  treaty.  Malcolm  re- 
newed his  homage  for  Cumbprlund ;  anil  Itoherl,  who,  whatever  liis 
fniills  might  be  as  a  privnie  characier.  waa  one  of  ttie  most  courtecrat 
knighla  and  polished  gentlemen  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  Anally  ce- 
mented the  auspicious  amiiy  which  he  had  established  between  hie  royal 
■ire  and  the  warlike  husband  of  the  heiress  presumptive  of  the  Saxon  line 
©f  kings,  by  becoming  the  ajwnsof  of  the  infant  pruicess  Matilda.  Sorat 
historians  assert  thai  the  name  of  the  Itiile  princess  was  originally  E<Iil[ia, 
anil  tlist  it  was,  out  of  complinienl  In  the  Norman  prince  her  goOfalher, 
changed  to  Matilda,  the  name  of  his  beloved  mother;  the  contemporary 
chronicler,  Ordericus  Vitalia,  says,  "JWifiWcw  yua  prius  dicta  ett  Bfi- 
rta." — Matilda,  whose  first  name  was  EJiih.' 

Matilda  the  Good  received  her  earliest  lessons  of  virtue  and  piely  from 
her  illustrious  mother,  and  of  learning  from  the  worthy  Tu^roi,  tlie  pre- 
ceptor of  ihc  royal  children  of  king  Malcolm  and  (jucen  Mar;garet  of 
Scotland.  While  Matilda  was  very  young,  there  appears  to  have  been 
an  attempt  on  the  part,  either  of  tlie  queen  her  mother,  or  her  aunt  Chris- 
lina  Aihcling,  the  celebrated  abbess  of  Rumsey,  to  conseccBtc  her  to  d»> 
church,  or  at  least  to  give  her  lender  mind  a  conventual  bias,  greatly  to 
the  displeasure  of  the  king  hec  lather;  who  once,  as  Matilda  herself  te^ 
liiied;  when  she  was  brought  into  his  presence,  dressed  in  a  nun's  veil, 
snatched  it  from  her  head  in  a  great  passion,  and  indignantly  lore  it  in 
pieces,  observing  al  the  same  lime,  to  Alan  duke  of  Brelagne,  who  suxd 
by, "  that  be  intended  to  bestow  her  in  marriage,  and  oot  to  devote  ha 
to  a  cloister."* 

This  circumstance,  young  as  she  was,  appears  to  have  made  a  very 
deep  impression  on  the  mind  of  the  little  princess,  and  probably  a-tsifUd 
in  alrenglhening  her  delermination,  in  after  years,  never  to  complete  the 
profession  of  which  she  was,  at  one  period  of  her  life,  com[H-Ued  to 
assume  the  semblance. 

AUn  duke  of  Brelagne,  lo  whom  king  Malcolm  addressed  this  obirr> 
ration,  was  the  widower  of  William  the  Conqueror's  daughter  Conslanecj 
and  though  there  was  a  great  disparity  of  years  between  him  and  Madlds, 
it  appears  certain,  from  his  after-proposals,  ihat  [he  object  of  his  visit  to 
the  ScoUish  court  was  to  form  a  matrimonial  alliance  niih  the  youif 
Maulda  ;*  and  this  was  indubitably  one  of  the  nnsuilable  malcdes  U 
which  we  shall  Hud  that  Matilda  allerwards  alluded. 

Matilda's  uncle,  Edgar  Atheling,  became  resident  at  the  court  of  htf 
father  and  mother  for  some  time,  in  the  year  1091,  Robert  Conrthost 
having  sacrificed  his  friendship  to  the  temporary  Jealousy  of  William 
RufuR.  This  displeasure  did  not  lost  long,  for  both  the  eldest  soni  of 
William  the  Conqueror  seem  lo  have  cherished  an  afiection  for  the  Aihc- 
ling, and  he  was  often  treated  with  confidence  and  generosity  by  a^ 
The  misunderstanding,  which  occasioned  Edgar's  retreat  into  Ssutlaadr 

"  'Seethe  precoflinB  Mtmmi,  Life  o7  MaUIJn  ofFlnndM*! 

'Sre  Dr.  Iiin^rdi  learned  nnle.  p.  136,  vol.  ii 
"  ■  '  Eadn\<!!  and  Gem 


MATILDA    OT    BCOTLAlfD.  85 

presence  of  Him  who  is  now  oor  only  witness,  I  beseech  yon  to  promise 
and  perfonn." ' 

Adversity  was  soon  to  try  these  yonthful  scions  of  royalty  with  her 
touchstone ;  and  of  the  princess  Iklatilda,  as  well  as  her  saindy  mother, 
it  may  justly  be  said, 

■*  Stent,  nigged  nvne,  thy  rigid  lore 
With  patience  many  a  year  flhe  bore.** 

Soon  after  the  disastroos  defeat  and  death  of  her  royal  father  and  eldest 
brother,  Donald  Bane,  the  illegitimate  brother  of  Malcolm  Ganmore, 
seized  the  throne  of  Scotland,  and  conmianded  all  the  English  exiles,  of 
whatsoever  degree,  to  quit  the  kingdom^  under  pain  of  death.'  Edgar 
Atheling,  Matilda^s  uncle,  then  conveyed  to  England  the  orphan  £unily 
of  his  sister,  the  queen  of  Scotland,  consisting  of  five  young  princes, 
and  two  princesses.* 

He  supported  Bfatilda,  her  sister  and  brothers,  who  were  all  minors, 
privately,  from  his  own  means.  They  were  in  considerable  personal 
danger,  from  the  accusation  of  one  of  the  knights  at  the  English  court, 
who  told  William  Rufus  that  the  Saxon  prince  had  brought  into  England, 
ind  was  raising  up,  a  fiunily  of  competitors  for  the  English  crown.  A 
friend  of  Edgar  challenged  and  slew  this  mischievous  talebearer;  and 
William  Rufus,  supposing  Providence  had  decided  in  favour  of  the  inno- 
cent«  treated  Edgar  and  his  adopted  family  with  kindness  and  friendship. 

The  princesses  Matilda  and  5lary  were  placed  by  their  uncle  in  the 
nunnery  of  Rumsey,  of  which  his  surviving  sister,  Christina,  was  abbess; 
tnd  for  the  princes,  he  sought  and  obtained  an  honourable  reception  for 
them  at  the  court  of  William  Rufus,  who  eventually  sent  him  at  the 
head  of  an  army  to  Scotland,  with  which  the  Atheling  succeeded  in  re- 
establishing his  nephew,  the  elder  brother  of  Matilda,  on  the  throne  of 
his  ancestors. 

Ordericus  Vitalis  confirms,  in  a  great  measure,  the  statements  of 

'  Queen  Margaret  was  buried  at  Dunfermline.  Her  body  was  disinterred  at 
the  Reformation,  and  the  head  is  now  preserved  in  a  silver  case  at  Bouay,  where 
the  historian  Carruthers  declares  he  saw  it  at  the  Scotch  college.  It  was  in 
«]ttniordiDary  preservation,  with  a  quantity  of  fine  hair,  fair  in  colour,  still  upon 
it.     This  was  in  1785.— HisL  of  Scotland,  vol.  L  p.  313. 

*Carrutben'  HisL  of  Scotland,  vol.  i.  p.  316. 

'  Hardinge,  in  hit  rhyming  chronicle,  thus  quaintly  enumerates  the  posterity  of 
>firgaret  Atheling  (See  Henry  Ellis's  edition):^ 

<*  EduTinl,  Dunkan,  E<1gar,  Alixander  the  gay, 
And  David  also,  (that  kings  were  all  they  say, 
Eache  after  other  of  Scotlande  throughout,) 
Whose  mother  is  now  St  Margarete  without  doubt. 
At  Dunfermljrn  shrined  and  canonised ; 
By  wtiom  Malcolyn  a  daughter  had  also, 
King  Henry's  wife  the  first,  full  well  avised 
Queen  Maude,  that 't  right  welt  loved  England  thraogh, 
Those  crosses  &ir  and  royal,  as  men  go, 
Through  all  England,  the  made  at  her  expense, 
And  divers  good  orders  through  her  providence." 


^  MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND. 

Tni^l ,  and,  after  reUling  the  death  of  i]ueen  Margsret,  ulds,  ^  She  luJ  I 
sent  ber  Iwo  daughters,  Edith  (Matilda)  and  Mary,  to  Chmiiu,  to 
aiHier,  who  wa<  u  religieuae  of  tJie  alibey  of  Itumscy,  to  be  ituiniclal 
by  her  ia  holy  wnL  These  princesses  were  a  long  linie  pupila  aattai 
the  nuns.  Tliey  were  instructed  by  iliem,  not  only  in  the  ari  «f  readii^ 
but  iu  tlie  observance  of  good  manners ;  and  these  devoted  maiden*)  H 
ihey  approached  the  age  of  womsabood,  waited  for  the  consolaiion  of 
God,  As  we  have  said,  they  were  orphans,  deprived  of  both  tlwif 
parenla,  separated  from  their  brothers,  and  foi  froni  llie  protecting  eut 
of  kindred  or  friends.  They  had  no  home  or  hope  but  the  cloister,  ud 
yet,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  they  were  not  professed  as  nuns.  They  ww 
ilestined  by  tlie  Disposer  of  all  earihlv  events  for  better  things," 

Camden  proves  that  the  abbey  of  Wilton,  ever  since  the  profMmun  ef 
the  saintly  princess  Edilho,'  was  the  plnce  of  nurture  and  education  fo 
all  the  young  princesses  of  tlie  Au^lo-Sason  royal  family.  This  abbif 
of  Black  Benedictine  nuns  liad  been  founded  by  king  Alfred,  am)  tiMt 
his  days  had  always  received  a  lady  of  his  royal  line  as  its  abboasi^ 
custom  which  does  doe  seem  to  have  been  broken  by  the  depwitiuo  df 
bis  family. 

VVilton  Abbey  had  been  re-founded  by  queen  Edillm,  consort  U 
Edward  the  Confessor.'  While  that  monarch  was  building  WeslmiDSV 
Abbey,  his  queen  was  employing  her  revenues  in  changing  the  mmaj 
of  Wilton,  from  a  wooden  cdilice  into  one  of  stone. 

The  abbey  of  Bunisey  was  likewise  a  rnyul  foundation,  genenllj' 
governed  by  an  abbess  of  the  family  of  Alfred.  Christina  is  first  tam- 
tioned  as  abbess  of  Rumsey  in  Hampshire,  and  aficrwanls  as  sapeiin 
of  the  Wilion  convenL  As  both  belonged  to  the  order  of  Black  BciU- 
:iD^,  this  transfer  was  not  diHicdl;  but  chroniclers  do  not  mentioii 
en  it  was  efiecied,  simply  staling  the  fact,  that  the  Scottish  prinem 
first  dwelt  at  Rumsey,  but  that  when  she  grew  up  she  was  resident  st 
Wilion  Abbey,  under  the  superintendence  of  the  abbess  Christina,  bet 
aunt.  Matilda  thus  became  an  inhabitant  of  the  same  abode  where  &t 
roj-ol  virgins  of  her  race  had  always  received  their  eduratioo.' 

It  was  the  express  desire  of  the  queen,  her  mother,  who  survivnd  llut 
request  but  a  few  hours,  that  she  should  be  placed  under  the  can  oflfat 
ladv  Cliristina  at  Rumsey. 

Wilde  in  these  English  convents,  the  royal  maid  was  compellsd  U 
isnime  the  thick  black  veil  of  a  votaress,*  as  a  protection  froai  Al 
L  insults  of  the  lawless  Norman  nobles.  The  al)bess  Christina,  her  aaA 
\  who  was  ejcceedingly  deaifous  of  seeing  her  beautiful  niece  becofiw  i 
nun  professed,  treated  her  very  harshly,  if  she  removed  this  cumbraaa 
and  inconvenient  envelope,  which  was  composed  of  courae  black  dffh 
or  serge;  some  say  it  waa  a  tissue  of  horse-hair.  The  impositioa  sf 
this  veil  was  considered  by  Matilda  as  an  intolerable  grievance.  Sb 
wore  it,'  as  she  herself  acknowledged,  with  sighs  and  tears,  in  the  ft^ 

■Oiu^iet  of  Edgar  the  Peaceable.  'Camdao.  'Onlerkiu  T 


MATILDA    or    ScnTLANl).  87  1 

nsiee  of  herEletn  aunt;  and  liie  moment  she  round  herself  alone,  she 
durtg  it  uu  ilie  ground,  and  stamped  il  under  her  (nel. 

Curing  ilic  utien  yesre  ihai  Maidda  resided  in  this  dreary  asylum,  she 
was  carefidly  iiutrucled  in  all  the  learning  of  ilie  age.  Ordericus  Vitolis 
•afs  alic  was  langhl  ilio  "•liittratoTiatn  arlem,"  at  which  she  aflerwards 
brcamr,  like  hrr  predecessor,  Matilda  of  Flanders,  a  most  muniScent 
(■lUonces.     She  was  also  greaUy  akilled  in  music,  for  which  her  lore 

'TL'unted  almccl  to  a  passion.     When  queen,  we  shall  find  her some- 
<i-s  cviiBured.  for  the  loo  greal  libemlity  she  showed  la  rewarding, 

'  Ml  cxMiIy  presents,  the  monks  who  sang   skilfully  in  the  church 

The  superior  education  which  this  illustrious  princess  received  during 
■  -p  ycBrt  of  cimvenlual  seclusion,  eminently  fitted  her  lo  become  the    I 

iMirt  of  »o  ocmmplishtMl  a  prince  ns  Henry  le  Beauclerc.  Robert  of 
.  >uc(«irr,  and  Piert  of  Langtofi,  and,  above  all,  Eadmer,  a  coDtem|>o- 

;.,  asseri  tliat  the  royal  pair  had  been  lovers  before  circumstances  nd» 

''d  of  ibcir  iiuion.  Tliese  are  the  words  of  quaint  old  Robiu  on  tlw 
-■'jt^l: — 

*  ^padial  love  tharo  luil  *«'  hern,  as  I  undetitanil, 
8«iw«n  tiiin  ind  tlie  king'i  la.ir  dau^liiet,  Maiul  of  Scotland. 
5o  thai  ha  wUJi>d  bi-t  to  wife,  nad  tbe  tnshopa  also, 
And  tba  h^b  axca  of  the  land  taddt*  liiiii  ll)er«|i>," 

MaiUda  received  two  proposals  of  marriage  while  she  was  ia  the  nun- 
;'  at  Rumsey ;  one  from  Alan  duke  of  Brctagne,  the  mature  suitor 
ire  tnenlioned,  who  demanded  her  in  marriage  of  his  brolher-jn-law, 
^  Warn  Hufus,  and  oblained  his  consent,  but  he  was  prevented  by  dealh 
'  i.i  fiiliiNiMg  his  engagement.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  Matd da's  only 
I -I  I. "in  ihis  ill-assorted  union,  would  have  been  the  irrevocable 
'- :'■■. f  the  black  veil, of  which  she  had  testified  such  unqualified 

riic  i>ilier  candidate  for  the  hand  of  the  exiled  princess,  was  the 
'  ijiuig  and  hanilsome  William  Warren,  earl  of  Surrey,  the  son  of  iho 
'.-toijorn'r's  youngt-et  daughter,  Gundred,  the  favourite  nephew  of  Wil- 
ium  Itufufl,  and  one  of  ilie  richest  and  most  powerful  of  the  baronago 
(if  K-iiglaiid  and  Normandy. 

Tliir  pir.lesnion  of  Matilda  was  delayed  for  a  time,  by  the  addresses 
i'  ihpM'  jirincca.'  "  But,"  continues  the  chronicler,  ^  she  was,  by  ilia 
pit*  uf  Gi-d,  rcsen'ed  fur  a  higher  destiny,  and  through  his  pcrmiesion 
tonuaci^  a  more  illustrious  marriage."*  It  is  remarkable,  that  of  iha 
thfco  lovers  by  whom  Mniddu  was  sought  in  marriage,  one  should  har* 
Wen  lfa«  Min-in-law,  another  the  grandson,  and  the  thinl  the  son,  of  ihat 
TSoauMO  conqueror  who  liad  established  a  rival  dynaaiy  on  the  throne  of 
W  asKotori. 

ya'il'la  pleaded  her  devotion  to  a  religious  life,  as  an  excuse  for  de- 
clining the  addresses  of  Warren,  though,  under  existing  circumstances,  it 
-  '^11*  sirang«  that  she  should  have  preft-rred  a  lengthened  sojourn  in  « 

"trli.  '£n  means  befbie,  01  Ibrmerl]'.  '  Radd 

>:  ierkus  Tllalis.  'Ibid. 


I 
1 


I 


I 


glocRiy  HtHRter,  to  a  union  with  a  young,  handsotne,  and  wetdlhv  pMr 
of  the  blood-royal  of  the  reigning  sovereign  of  England ;  am!  h«r  tt» 
fiwai  of  Warren  nfTords  some  reason  for  firing  credence  to  ihc  »!■»- 
mente  of  Eadmer,  Robert  ofGlouceiler,  and  others  of  the  anrienl  rhroiii- 
f  ItTS,  ns  to  "  llie  special  lore"  that  existed  between  Hejirf  Beaiidf re  and 
Matilda,  daring  the  season  of  their  muina)  adversity.  Matilda  was  at 
thai  time  residing  in  the  nunnery  of  Wilton,  not  far  from  Winchntn, 
the  prtneipal  seat  of  the  Norman  sovereign.  When  we  reflect  on  ths 
great  intimacy  which  subsisted  between  Mniilda's  tinele,  Edgnr  Athdin;, 
and  the  sons  of  the  Conqueror,  it  appears  by  no  means  iroproboMe  thai 
prince  Henry  might  have  accompanied  him  in  some  of  his  vtnits  to  his 
rayal  kinswomen,  in  the  nunnery  of  Wilton,  and  perhaps  been  adraiOnl, 
tinder  tlie  sanction  of  his  presence,  to  converse  with  the  princesses,  and 
even  to  have  enjoyed  ihe  opportunity  of  seeing  Matilda  without  h<r 
veil ;  which,  we  tetm.  from  hei  own  confession,  she  took  every  oppo^ 
tunity  of  throwing  aside. 

Awording  to  the  testimony  of  the  ancient  chroniclers,  esp«^ially  tht 
chronicle  of  Normandy,  this  princess  was  remarkable  for  her  beamy.' 
Matthew  Paris  says  she  was  "^  very  &ir,  and  elegant  in  person,  as  well  ai 
learned,  holy,  and  wise."  These  qualities,  combinerl  wiili  her  high 
lineage,  rendered  her  doablles*  an  object  of  attraction  K»  liie  NomM 
princes.  Henry  Beauclerc  was  ten  year?  the  senior  of  his  nephew  Ww 
Ten,  but  his  high  mental  acquirements  &nd  accompliahmenla  wetViUii 
mind  like  that  of  Matilda  of  Scotland,  far  beyond  the  tnereirieioM  iA> 
vnntnges  which  his  more  youibrul  rival  could  boast. 

Robert  of  Gloucester,  in  his  rhyming  chronicle,  gives  this  qnill 
nuumwy  of  the  birth,  education,  and  charBcteristics  of  Henry  : — 

"  In  England  wai  he  bofn,  Henri,  tin's  nobleman. 

In  (he  tlhird  jreat  thai  hl>  taxhei  Englnnd  wnn ; 

He  v-B!,  of  b[I  lib  sons,  beit  flUcd  kini;  ii>  be, 

Of  lursM  rortn  and  iDHniieTt,  bdiI  mu^o  gentle  and  fVee. 

Foi  ^t  be  wai  the  youngpil  to  bcwk  hit  Eiihsi  liim  drew. 

And  he  becBme  ■»  ii  btfel  a  ptod  clerk  enow. 

One  time  whrn  he  wns  yonng,  lib  hroitier  imoto  him.  I  wia. 

And  he  wept  while  his  bdier  Mood  bj-  and  beheld  all  thit; 
■Ne  weep  duw,'  he  said,  'loving  son,  Tor  it  ihsll  opme  to  be, 

That  thnu  shBtt  ^t  be  king,  and  thai  thou  shnlt  see.' 

Bit  laiher  made  hinir  al  WesUninitei,  kriigUt  of  hia  own  band. 

Id  die  ninolcenlli  jrenr  or  his  age,  &c.  ttt-. 

Taller  he  wu  wme  drol  Ihnn  hii  brediren  were, 

Fair  man  and  tlirat  enow,  willi  brown  hair." 

Henry  was  regarded  by  the  people  of  the  land  with  a  greater  dcftw 
of  complacency  than  ihe  elder  sons  of  the  Conqueror,  from  the  cirtm- 
stance  of  his  being  an  English-horn  prince.  While  yet  a  tender  iBkut, 
hi*  mighty  aire  named  him  as  a  witness,  (the  only  male  wiinesA,)  oi  the 
I'uUowing  curious  charter  to  one  of  his  followers,  the  (cmnder  U  tb> 
bmily  of  Hunter  of  Hoplon  : — 

>Tbr  chronicle  or  Kotmeniy  ttja  that  Matilda  wu  s  ladf  of  steal  bcaaVi 


WiTfaaa,  die  king,  iho  ijiiril  yea 


liofe  (loving)  nnci  do«r 


inrli  uji  and  down, 


■  gosd  Bnd  as  fiiir  ■<  •vrr  ifai-'y  u 


e  JagKP,'  Hniidn.  iind  Mnrgprjr. 


B  K  bovit  uid  a  broad  bi 


I  fhvmes  of  Ihis  quaint  feudal  grant  ore  undoubtedly  Tar  more 

be  to  the  yenr  than  the  halting  heroics  of  honest  Robert  ofGloa- 

l|  nrcWously  quoted,  though  compnundcd  more  than  a  ceiitory 

^  nis  jingling  chronicle  was  wrillcn.     Several  of  the  charters  of 

=tn  tlifi  Conoiieror  are  in  this  form,  and  with  (lie  names  of  llie  enme 

'  -n  >>r  hia  Itatiiiy.     Il  is  probable  that  they  were  executed  iti  the 

act  of  his  queen, "  Maud  ;""Jugife,"(8onieiimes  used  as  an  abbfp- 

f  ft»r  Judith.)  must  have  been  his  niece  Judith,  aAerwards  the  wife 

Jheof ;  and  Margery,  a  daughter,  who  is  sometimes  enumerated  in 

P5,  by  (he  chroniclers ;  and  to  these  the  name  of  that  notable 

I  the  baliy  Ilcnn-,  was  doubtless  added,  as  a  joke,  by  the  royal 

iitiiig  Ihe  white  wai  was  supposed  lo  give  particular  aulheniiinty 

/ancee  from  the  crown,  which  were  formerly  each  duly  fur- 

irith  k  proof  impreasion  of  that  primitive  substitute  for  the  great 

■.Eogluid,  the  royal  eye-tooth,  sometimes  familiarly  specilied  by 

rch  S9  bis  « fang-looih."     This  custom,  which  took  its  ]' 

y  remote  antiquity,  was  needlessly  adopted  by  the  Anglo-Nor- 

le  of  •o»creigns,  whose  broad  seals  are  peculiarly  fine  workman- 

»«riiiff  their  veritable  effigies  crowned,  sceptred,  nnd  in  royal 

EmsImI  on  the  king's  stone  bench ;  and  on  the  reverse  of  the  seal 

■e  monarch  is  figured,  armed  cap-d-pic,  and  mounted  on  a  u 

KpIUntly  appointed*    Such  are  Ihe  luipreeslous  affixed  to  all 

b  mon^  the  boasts  of  Ciimbriilge'  that  Henry,  so  celebrateil  fot 
ntng,  received  bis  education  iJiere.  The  ancient  annals  of  St. 
ii  Canierbury,  however,  alBrm  ''that  be  was  instruciid  in  phi- 
J  beyond  s«a8,  where,  for  liis  knowledge  in  the  liberal  sciences, 

hby  the  French  sutnamed  Beauclerc." ' 

plfattowiBg  dialogue  took  place  between  Henry  and  his  mynl  sire, 
leluMr  hy  on  hia  death-lied  at  tlermeiiirude,'  and  was  cunclud- 

d  /■<?,  which  rhymes  lo  Mnrgctf  j  thfl  ihynici.Il  Will  Iw  nliiofved, 
""'      "Ihe  lines.  ^  •Siowo  ex  Lihro  Riehmond. 

'J.  Cnios  Cnnlabrig, 
iS.     A  Ipampd-wriler  in  tlie  ArohavJo^i  m|ipo!«i  (Hal 
on  by  Henrjr  ■  Zaijiith  Tables  m  Iha  Gwpian  il/Ic;  uU 
TroubRdciuT  [Hieie^s,  Marie  or  Fmnce,  wIki  flouiult«d  'v_ 
III,huirao«yjii«f  I/ie  £i^ul]  inonarch'i  work  inn  Not-    ' 
'Spevrf. 


I 


i 


HATII.  DA     OF     8  GOTLAND. 

ing  Ilia  elaborate  conression  of  hU  pnst  ileecis  of  oppression  and  cnwll}', 
with  t)ie  verbal  bequest  of  his  dominions  to  Iiib  two  elilesl  son*. 

^'  And  whut  do  yon  give  to  mc,  father ;"  interrupted  Henry,  u-ho  «tnod 
veepins  at  the  bedside,  leae  louclied,  we  fear,  at  the  swfiil  list  of  situ 
and  wickednesscEi  of  which  his  dying  sire  hiid  just  disburUieneil  liiH  con- 
science, tlian  B(  the  tenour  of  a  last  will  atiil  leelameiit  in  which  he 
appeared  to  have  no  ahare. 

**  Five  thousand  pounds  in  silver,  out  of  my  ireasmy,  do  1  give  ihce," 
replied  the  Conqueror. 

"But  what  shall  I  do  with  tieasure,  if  I  ha*e  neither  e&stle  not 
domain  V  demanded  the  disappomied  prince, 

"  Be  paiieDt,  my  son,  and  comfort  tjiyself  in  God,"  rejoined  ih* 
expiring  monarch ;  '''  Ihy  elder  brotliers  do  but  go  before  thee  :  llobcn 
■lioll  iuive  Iforniandy,  and  Wdli&ni  Englruid ;  but  thou  shall  be  tht 
inheritor  of  all  uiy  honours,  and  shall  excial  botli  tity  brethren  in  tichr« 
■ud  power." 

Tliis  oracular  speech,  lliough  far  enough  from  proring  sntiafactoiy  il 
the  time  lo  llie  landless  Henry,  was  afierwurds  mogiiilied  into  s  propbriis 
annuticintion  of  his  accession  lo  the  united  dominions  of  England  tti 
Mormaiidy. 

Discontented  as  Henry  was  with  the  paternal  legacy,  he  was  in  tndl 
haste  to  secure  ils  payment,  that  he  lell  the  last  duties  to  the  reinaiu  of 
his  royal  sire  to  tlie  care  of  strangers,  while  he  Hew  to  make  his  cUin 
upon  llie  treuBurj-  of  the  departed  sovereign ;  rightly  judging,  that  untai 
he  forestalled  his  elder  brcllireu  in  taking  possession  of  the  bequest,  his 
chance  of  receiving  it  would  be  but  small.  In  fact,  Robert,  «iiwM 
exlravagance  had  exhausted  all  bis  resources  before  he  succeeded  to  iht 
dukedom  of  Normandy,  besought  his  youtigest  brother  to  assist  bin 
vlth  a  loan  of  at  least  part  of  the  money.  IIenr>',  who  had  all  Hit 
worldly  wisdom  of  a  premature  statestnan,  complied,  on  condition  of 
being  pnl  in  possession  of  his  mother's  bequest  of  the  Cotentin.  Robtrt 
agreed ;  but,  after  he  had  been  foiled  in  his  attempt  to  dethrone  RuTuti 
he  returned  to  Normandy  with  exhausted  coflers,  and  wrongfully  t^ 
possessed  himself  of  the  Cotentin.  Henry,  greatly  enraged  at  tliis  tictl- 
nient,  was  prepnring  to  lake  up  arms  against  Robert,  when  the  latter, 
finding  himself  allocked  by  WilUam,  and  abandoned  by  his  fntse  tHj, 
PhUip  of  France,  thought  proper  to  make  the  most  earnest  solieitatioM 
to  Hpnry  for  assistance,  and  forgiveness  for  the  late  outrage  of  wbieb  bi 
had  been  ffiitlty. 

Henry,  lieing  mollified  by  the  submission  of  his  elder  brother,  ttti 
un<]ereUinding  that  a  plot  was  in  agitation  to  deliver  Rouen  to  Willkn, 
midde:ily  entered  the  city,  and  seizing  Conon,  the  head  of  ilie  conspin 
tors,  dialed  him  with  his  treason  to  the  duke,  and  caused  him  to  be 
flinig  headlong  from  one  of  the  highest  towers.  By  this  decisive  lUf 
Henry  preserved  the  capital  for  Robrtt. 

Robert  and  William  soon  after  came  to  an  amicable  ^reemenl,  nidi 
conceiving  a  sudden  allt^ciion  for  each  other,  they  terminated  their  quv- 
n\  by  making  their  wills  in  each  other's  favour,  without  any  meatioii 
«/  Ueory.    Uenry  regarded  this  as  a  great  alTront,  especially  on  the  put 


I 


MATILDA    QF    SCOTLAND*  91 

of  Robert,  to  whom  he  had  rendered  such  signal  services,  and  demanded 
of  him  eiliier  a  restitution  of  his  silver,  or  to  be  put  in  possession  of  the 
Cotentin.  On  Robert's  refusal,  he  seized  on  Mount  St.  Michael,  where 
be  strongly  entrenched  himself. 

The  youthful  adventurer  maintained  his  rocky  fortress  with  obstinate 
valour,  against  the  united  efibrts  of  his  august  brothers  of  England  and 
Normandy,  till  he  was  reduced  to  the  greatest  straits  for  want  of  water. 
He  represented  his  distress  to  Robert,  in  a  moving  message,  and  obtained 
leave  to  supply  his  garrison  with  water,  and  a  present  of  wine  for  his 
own  use.  Rufus  upbraided  Robert  with  his  compliance,  which  he  called 
'•an  act  of  folly." 

•*  What !"  replied  Robert,  with  a  sudden  burst  of  that  generous  warmth 
of  feeling  which  formed  the  redeeming  trait  of  his  character,  ^  is  the 
jnarrel  between  us  and  our  brother  of  that  importance  that  we  should 
nake  him  die  of  thirst  ?  We  may  have  occasion  for  a  brother  hereafter, 
yDt  where  shall  we  find  another  if  we  destroy  this  ?" 

After  Robert  had  besieged  St.  Michael^s  Mount  during  the  whole  of 
\jenU  he  brought  Henry  to  terms ;  who,  weary,  perhaps,  of  keeping  a 
itricter  fast  than  even  the  church  of  Rome  enjoined  at  that  season,  sur* 
rendered  the  fortress ;  and  having  permission  to  go  whither  he  pleased, 
wandered  about  Grermany  and  France  for  some  time,  forsaken  of  every 
one  save  four  fiuthful  domestics,  by  whom  he  was  attended. 

In  the  year  1094,  we  find,  from  Matthew  Paris,  that  Henry  was  in 
England,  and  employed  by  William  Rufus  in  assisting  to  quell  Uie  formi- 
dUble  rebellion  of  Robert  Mowbray,  the  Lord  of  Nor&umberland.  Prince 
Henry^s  poverty,  and  dependence  on  the  caprices  of  his  brother,  tlie  Red 
King,  subjected  him  occasionally  to  the  sneers  of  the  wealthy  Norman 
barons,  but  more  especially  of  his  kinsman  and  rival,  Warren,*  who  took 
occasion,  from  his  swiftness  in  pursuit  of  the  forest  game,  ^  which  oft- 
times,"  says  the  chronicle  of  Normandy,  ^  he,  for  lack  of  horse  or  dog, 
followed  on  foot,  to  bestow  the  name  of  Deer^s-foot  on  the  landless 
prince.  This  gready  troubled  Henry,  who  hated  Warren  to  the  death, 
but  had  no  power  to  avenge  himself,  because  the  Red  Kin£  loved  Warren 
greatly."'  It  is  possible  that  Warren^s  courtship  of  Matuda  of  Scotland 
was  one  cause  of  Henry's  bitter  animosity.'  This  courtship  was  sanc- 
tioned by  Rufus,  and  some  of  the  ancient  chroniclers  assert  that  3Iatilda 
was  contracted  to  him,  but  this  appears  without  foundation. 

Henry  was  in  his  thirty-second  year,  when  the  glancing  aside  of  Wat 
TyrrePs  arrow  made  him  king  of  England.  The  chroniclers  of  that  era 
record  that,  from  whatever  cause,  omens,  dreams,  and  predictions  of  the 
death  of  the  Red  Ring,  were  rife  in  the  land,  immediately  preceding  that 
event*  Prince  Henry  was  at  this  fatal  hunting  party ;'  and  Wace,  the 
minstrel  chronicler  of  the  Norman  line  of  princes,  relates  a  most  re- 
markable adventure  that  befell  him  on  this  occasion.*  ^  Prince  Henry 
being  separated  from  tlie  royal  party,  while  pursuing  his  game  in  an 
adjoining  glen  of  the  forest,  chanced  to  snap  the  string  of  his  cross-bow, 

•Wace.  •Ibid.  •Chronicle  of  Normandy  by  Waco. 

*lfabntbiiry.    Saxon  Chion.  •Duneim.  •Vfaob* 


or  arblast,  and  rep«iring  to  the  hot  of  a  forester,  lo  get  it  mwiIM  m 
replaced,  he  was,  die  moment  he  emerPii  this  svlraii  al)(<de,  nil\i)pd  at 
king  bjr  an  old  woman  whom  lie  ft^imd  lliere."  whfwc  descnption  it 
iomcwhol  similar  to  tliat  of  one  of  the  witches  in  Macbeth.'  Ttie  M- 
luwirig  is  a  literal  version  of  her  address,  from  the  Norman  Freneli 
rhyioes  of  Wace : — 

"  Ba^f  neva  lo  llipe  1  biing, 
Henif,  Ihoa  art  now  a  king; 
Mmk  ibe  word;  anil  herd  lliem  well, 
Which  to  ihee  in  aooili  I  tell. 

And  fofall  ilietn  >□  iho  1io.>r 
or  thy  rcgnl  auu  uid  power." 

Pefore  Henty  had  rerovered  from  the  surprise  with  which  the  wctid 
woninn's  prediction  had  startled  hini.  the  cries  of  the  Red  King's  aUeo^ 
mnls  procbinied  the  fatal  accident  that  had  befallen  their  roval  maaM 
and  llie  hasly  flight  of  the  utilucky  marksman  by  whose  erring  *hrf 
lie  had  died.  Prince  Henry  acted  aa  Rufus  doubtless  would  have  dliM 
in  his  case;  he  sprang  to  his  saddle,  and  made  the  best  of  his  way  la 
Winchester,  without  bestowing  a  moment's  care  or  attention  on  the  liedy 
of  his  deceased  brother,  which  was  irreTcrently  thrown  into  the  an  of 
one  Purkiss,  a  Saxon  charcoal-burner,  that  was  passing  tlttotigh  itx 
forest,  and,  on  no  gentler  bier,  was  ignobly  borne  back  tn  the  ctiv  whirh 
he  had  i)uiiied  that  morning  with  such  proud  parade.'  Robert  of  Gtw- 
center  relates  the  circumstance,  with  his  usual  quaint  rainateneM;  wl 
among  a  number  of  his  tame  and  lame  lines,  the  following  graphic  eofr 
plet  occurs,  which  we  think  our  readers  will  consider  wOTtiijr  of  qiio» 
lion,- — 

"To  WinohesWT  they  Imre  him,  ril!  mid«  h)<  green  wound, 
And  evur  M  he  Imy  Uie  lilouJ  welld  lo  giouiul." 

William  Breleuil,'  the  royal  treasurer,  vcas  also  at  this  nientotabb 
bunting  party,  and  with  him  prince  Henry  actually  rode  a  race  to  \ViD> 
Chester — ay,  and  won  it  loo;  for  when  BreleuU  arrived  at  the  door  of 
tlie  treasury,  he  found  prince  Henry  standing  before  it,  who  greeted  him 
wilh  a  demand  of  the  kej-s.  Breteuil  boldlv  declared,  '•  That  Iwlh  tr«*- 
sure  and  crown  belonged  to  ihe  prince's  elilesl  broilier,  duke  Robert  of 
Normandy,  who  was  then  absent  in  the  Holy  Land,  and  for  that  prion 
he  would  keep  ihe  treasures  of  the  late  king  his  master."  Then  Ileiuy 
drew  his  sword,  and,  backed  by  his  powerful  friend,  Henry  Bellumoal^ 
nfierwards  earl  of  Leicester,  and  other  nobles  of  his  party,  forced  tb 
'  keys  from  his  kinsman  Breteuil,  and  took  possession  of  the  treasure  uJ 
regalia.  Breteuil  loudly  protested  against  the  wrong  that  was  done  w 
duke  Robert 

Some  of  the  nobles  who  possessed  large  estates  in  NormandT,  nW 

•W>etL 

*!nuon  Cliion.  The  lineal  dsKendanU  of  the  tBid  EhBieoal-mBlCM',  \ij  loMS 
Purkiu,  lull  live  within  tha  disuncc  of  >  how-ihoi  from  il)e  (pot  whom  Koto 
frlU  srul  continus  lo  eierciie  the  trade  or  tlieir  ancHtor. — Miloer'a  WinohMS>. 

'  Williun  Breteuil  wag  the  »n  of  the  G^nquerori  Kreai  ftiei 
d  iBto_Proud  Spirit. — Sea  ilia  fiwiediiit  in 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND.  93 

• 

with  Breteuil,  in  advocating  the  rights  of  the  royal  Crusader;  and  the 
(lehate  growing  rery  stormy,  it  was  considered  more  expedient  to  argue 
the  momentous  question  in  the  council-chamber.  Thither  the  nobles 
ind  prelates  adjourned;  but  while  they  were  eng8(ged  in  advocating, 
according  as  interest  or  passion  swayed,  the  rival  daims  of  Robert  and 
Henry  to  the  vacant  throne,  the  majority  being  inclined  for  the  elder 
brother,  (the  brave  but  proverbially  unready  Robert,)  Henry  had  suc- 
cessfully pleaded  his  own  cause  to  Uie  populace,  in  the  streets  of  Win- 
chester ;  and  they,  strong  in  numbers,  and  animated  with  sudden  affec- 
tion for  the  English-bom  prince,  who  had  promised  to  bestow  upon 
them  English  laws  and  an  English  queen,  gathered  round  the  palace, 
ind  quickened  the  decision  of  the  divided  peers  in  council,  by  making 
he  name  of  Henry  resound  in  their  ears ;  and  Henry,  thus  elected  by 
he  Toice  of  the  people,  was  immediately  proclaimed  king,  at  Winches- 
er.  The  remains  of  the  luckless  Rufus  were  hurried  into  the  grave, 
rith  a  sort  of  hunter's  mass,  the  following  morning,  at  an  early  hour,  in 
Winchester  Oathednd ;'  and  Henry  hastened  to  London,  where,  on  Sun- 
lay,  the  9th  of  Au^rust,  the  third  day  after  his  brother's  death,  he  was 
nt>wned  in  Westnmister  Abbey,  by  Maurice,  bishop  of  London.  Before 
he  regal  circlet  was  placed  on  his  brow,  ^  Henry,  at  the  high  altar  at 
kVestminster,  promised  to  God  and  the  people,''  says  the  Saxon  Chroni- 
de,  ^  to  annul  the  unrighteous  acts  that  took  place  in  his  brother's  reign, 
ind  he  was  crowned  on  that  condition." ' 

Henry  promised  everything  that  could  reasonably  be  demanded  of 
him,  and  set  about  reforming  the  abuses  and  corruptions  that  had  pre- 
vailed during  the  licentious  reign  of  the  bachelor  king,  and  completely 
•ecu  red  his  popularity  with  die  English  people,  by  declaring  his  resolu- 
tion of  wedding  a  princess  of  the  blood  of  Alfred,  who  had  been  brought 
up  and  educated  among  them.  Accordingly  he  demanded  Matilda,  the 
daughter  of  Malcolm,  king  of  Scotland,  and  Margaret  Atheling,  of  her 
brother  Edgar,  king  of  Scotland.  The  proposal  was  exceedingly  agree- 
able to  the  Scottish  monarch  ;  but  great  difficulties  were  opposed  to  the 
completion  of  this  marriage,  by  those  who  were  of  opinion  that  she  had 
embraced  a  religious  life.*  The  abbess  Christina,  Matilda's  aunt,  in 
particular,  whose  Saxon  prejudices  could  not  brook  the  idea  that  the 
throne  of  the  Norman  line  of  sovereigns  should  be  strengthened  by  an 
alliance  with  the  royal  blood  of  Alfred,  protested,  ^  that  her  niece  was  a 
veiled  nun,  and  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  sacrilege  to  remove  her  from 
her  convent" 

Henry's  heart  was  set  upon  the  marriage,  but  he  would  not  venture 
to  outrage  popular  opinion,  by  wedding  a  consecrated  nun.  In  this 
dilemma,  he  wrote  a  pressing  letter  to  the  learned  Anselm,  archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  who  had  been  unjustly  despoiled  of  his  revenues  by 

'  The  monument  that  Henry  L  raised  for  hie  brother  Rufiu,  before  the  hi^h 
altar  at  Winchester,  is  still  to  be  seen  there ;  he  put  himself  to  no  great  cost  Ibr 
fiueral  expenses,  for  it  is  a  plain  gravestone  of  black  marble,  of  that  shape 
called  do§  tTam^  to  be  seen,  of  brick  or  ireestone,  in  country  ohmchyards. 

*  Saxon  Q-roDJcle.  '  Eadmer. 


I 

I 

i 


H  MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND. 

Williun  RDfus,  and  was  then  in  exile  at  Lyons,  entreating  him  U 
remm.  nnd  render  him  his  adiice  atrd  assistanpe  in  thin  nffcir.  WIwb 
Aneplin  heard  ihe  partirulars  of  the  case,  he  declared  Umt  ii  wm  lm 
mighty  for  his  single  derision,  and  therefore  stimnionetl  a  council  »f  llw 
church  at  Lambeth,  for  the  ptirpose  of  entering  more  fully  into  this  io- 
porlant  question.' 

Matilda  made  her  appearenee  before  the  synod,  and  was  closely  int«t" 
rognted  by  the  primate  Atiselm.  in  the  presence  of  Ihe  whole  hierarchy 
of  England,  as  to  the  reality  of  her  alleged  devotion  to  a  religions  lifO 

The  particulars  of  hpr  examination  have  been  preserred  by  Eodrmr, 
who,  as  the  secretary  of  the  archbishop  Anselm.  was  doubUesiB  an  tn- 
witness  of  this  interesting  scene,  and,  in  all  probability,  reconled  tht 
*«ry  words  uttered  by  the  princess. 

The  urchbishop  commenced  by  slating  liie  objections  to  her  mwrisff, 
grounded  on  the  prevailing  report  that  she  had  embraced  a  religious  Itfi^ 
tiul  declared,  "  tliat  no  motive  whatever  would  induce  him  to  dispeiM 
with  her  vow,  if  it  had  already  been  given  to  Almighty  God." 

The  priacesa  denied  that  there  had  been  any  such  engj 
her  part- 
She  was  asked  "  if  she  had  embraced  a  fcligious  life,  either  by  htt 
own  choice  or  the  vow  of  her  parents ;"  and  she  replied,  «  Netthef," 
Then  she  was  examined  as  to  the  fact  of  her  having  worn  the  black  td 
of  s  votaress  in  her  father's  court,  and  subsequently  in  the  niuiDenra  of 
Rnmsey  and  Willon. 

"  1  do  not  deny,"'  said  Matilda,  "having  worn  the  veil  in  my  biheA 
court:  for,  when  I  was  a  child,  my  aunt  Christina  put  a  piece  of  hhrii 
cloth  over  my  head ;  but  when  my  father  saw  me  with  it,  he  snuidnd 
il  off  in  a  great  rage,  and  execrated  the  person  who  had  put  it  on  ni".'  I 
tflcTWards  made  a  pretence  of  wearing  it,  to  excuse  myself  from  nnsuil- 
able  marriages ;  and,  on  one  of  these  occasions,  my  father  tore  the  vril 
■nd  threw  it  on  the  ground,  observing  to  Alan  earl  of  Bretagne.  wfci 
stood  hy,  that  it  was  his  intention  to  give  me  in  marriage,  tiot  to  devoK 
me  to  the  church."  * 

She  also  admitted  that  she  had  a.«sumed  the  veil  in  the  nunnery  «f 
Ruinsey,  as  a  protection  from  the  lawless  violence  of  the  Notma 
nobles,  and  that  she  had  continued  to  wear  that  badge  of  onveati^ 
devotion,  against  her  own  inclination,  through  the  harsh  compulsiofl  t# 
her  annt,  the  abbess  Christina.  "  If  I  attempted  to  remove  it,"  eontiowtt 
Maiildn, '■she  would  tonoent  me  with  harsh  blows  and  sharp  reproaebn: 
■ighing  uid  trembling,  I  wore  it  in  her  presence;  but  as  soon  as  I  wil^ 
drew  froiB  her  sight,  I  always  threw  it  off,  and  trampled  upon  it.^* 

This  explanation  was  considered  perfectly  satisfactory  by  the  cmmd 
tt  Uimbetli.  and  they  pronounced,  that  ■^  Matilda,  daughter  of  Maleobh 

'Ndt  loni;  Kftei  Ihe  nlnm  or  Archbiahop  Anwim  to  Engluu),  Ibe  Idas,  bgr  A> 
iw>lvi(<(i  i>r  hii  fTir-ndt,  i«Kilv«d  n  Imve  off  liit  mislreMes  and  tnnrry;  mai  tt 
iamii  a  icrf  gnat  afftttvm  for  Matilda,  dnuftliwr  lo  Malcolm,  UtB  kias  etSm 
Isii.l,  molrsd,  if  il  miglit  be  Uwfbl,  to  man]-  ber. — ^TjTtolU 

'Eadmei,    3Saiatii>urf.  '  Eadinei.  ■  Ibid.  ■  Dnd. 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND.  95 

king  of  Scotland,  had  proved  that  she  had  not  erohraced  a  religious  life, 
either  by  her  own  choice  or  the  vow  of  her  parents,  and  she  was  there- 
fore free  to  contract  marriage  with  the  king.^  The  council,  in  addition 
to  this  declaration,  thought  proper  to  make  public  the  most  cogent 
reason  which  the  Scottish  princess  had  given  for  her  assumption  of  the 
black  veil,  on  her  coming  to  England ;  which  was  done  in  the  following 
remarkable  words.' 

^  When  the  mat  king  William  conquered  this  land,  many  of  his 
foDowers,  elated  by  so  great  a  victory,  and  thinking  that  everything 
ought  to  be  subservient  to  their  will  and  pleasure,  not  only  seized  the 
provisions  of  the  conquered,  but  invaded  the  honour  of  their  matrons 
and  virgins  whenever  they  had  an  opportunity.  This  obliged  many 
young  ladies,  who  dreaded  their  violence,  to  put  on  the  veil,  to  preserve 
their  honour.^' 

According  to  the  Saxon  chroniclers,  Matilda,  notwithstanding  her 
repugnance  to  the  consecrated  veil,  exhibited  a  very  maidenly  reluctance 
to  enter  the  holy  pale  of  matrimony  with  a  royal  husband.  It  is  possible 
that  the  report  of  the  immoral  ten  our  of  Henry's  life  before  he  ascended 
the  throne,  which  was  evidenced  by  his  acknowledging  the  claims  of 
twenty  illegitimate  children,  might  be  regarded  by  a  princess  of  her 
parity  of  mind  and  manners  as  a  very  serious  objection ;  and  if,  as  many 
of  the  early  chroniclers  intimate,  there  had  been  a  previous  engagement 
between  Henry  and  herself,  she  of  course  felt  both  displeasure  and  dis- 
cast  at  his  amours  with  the  beautiful  Nesta,  daughter  of  the  prince  of 
Wales,  and  other  ladies  too  numerous  to  particularize.  It  is  certain  that 
after  the  council  at  Lambeth  had  pronounced  her  free  to  marry,  Matilda 
resisted  for  a  time  the  entreaties  of  the  king,  and  the  commands  of  her 
royal  brother  and  sovereign,  to  accept  the  brilliant  destiny  which  she 
was  ofiered. 

All  who  were  connected  with  the  Saxon  royal  line  importuned  Ma- 
tflda,  meantime,  with  such  words  as  these :  ^  O  most  noble  and  most 
gracious  of  women,  if  thou  wouldst,  thou  couldst  raise  up  the  ancient 
honour  of  England :  thou  wouldst  be  a  sign  of  alliance,  a  pledge  of 
reconciliation  :  but  if  thou  persistest  in  thy  refusal,  the  enmity  between 
the  Saxon  and  Norman  races  will  be  eternal ;  human  blood  will  nevei 
cease  to  flow."  * 

Thus  urged,  the  royal  recluse  ceased  to  object  to  a  marriage,  whereby 
■he  was  to  become  the  bond  of  peace  to  a  divided  nation,  and  the  dove 
of  the  newly-sealed  covenant  between  the  Norman  sovereign  and  her 
own  people.  Henry  promised  to  confirm  to  the  English  nation  their 
ancient  laws  and  privileges,  as  established  by  Alfred,  and  ratified  by 
Edward  the  Confessor — in  short,  to  become  a  constitutional  monarch; 
and  on  those  conditions  the  daughter  of  the  royal  line  of  Alfred  con- 
sented to  share  his  throne. 

Matthew  Paris  says  positively  that  Matilda  was  a  professed  nun,  and 
BO  averse  to  this  marriage,  that  she  invoked  a  curse  upon  all  the  de- 
seendants  that  might  proceed  from  her  union  with  the  Norman  king 

'  Eadroer.  *  Ibid.  *  Saxon  C\xTOmc\<&. 


I 


M\TtLI>A     OF     SCOTLAND.  ^H 

But  ihij  is  conlradictRi]  by  all  otlier  historians ;  and  if  any  fouodatioB 
existed  fur  ihe  story,  we  think  friend  Matthew  must,  by  a  atmnpe  alip 
of  ihe  pen,  have  written  down  the  name  of  the  meek  unij  saintly  JMatildi 
ineieaU  of  ihal  of  the  pervcree  virago,  the  abbess  Chrislina,  her  uni, 
who  was  BO  greatly  opposed  to  those  auspicious  nuptials,  aud,  for  atigbt 
we  know,  might  hove  been  aa  much  adiliclt'd  to  the  evil  habit  of  irapro 
cation  ns  she  was  to  eeolding  and  fighiiiig. 

Matilda's  ikmurs,  al^er  all,  occasioned  little  delay,  for  the  orchblflhop 
Ansclm  did  not  return  to  England  till  Orloberi  the  council  ai  [^mbeih 
was  held  in  the  latter  end  of  that  month,  and  her  marriage  and  coiona- 
tiun  look  place  on  Sunday,  November  11th,  being  St.  Martin's  day,  just 
three  months  and  six  days  alier  the  inauguration  of  her  royal  lord  at 
Westminster,  August  5ih,  1 100 ;  which  we  may  consider  tjuick  work, 
for  the  despatch  of  such  important  business,  aud  solemn  ceremonials  of 
ataie. 

We  gire  the  singular  scene  of  the  marriage,  in  tlie  very  irorda  of  ooa 
who  was  a  contemporary,  and  moat  likely  an  eye-witnes«. 

"  At  the  wedding  of  Matilda  and  Henry  the  First,  there  was  a  most 
prodigious  concourse  of  nobility  and  people  assembled  in  and  about  the 
ctiurcn  at  Westminster,  when,  to  prevent  oil  calumny  and  ill  report  that 
the  king  was  about  to  marr)'  a  nun,  the  archbishop  Anaehn  mounted 
into  a  pulpit,  and  gave  the  multiinde  a  history  of  the  events  proved  before 
the  synod,  and  ila  judgment,  tluit  the  lady  Matilda  of  Scotland  was  (m 
frimi  any  religious  vow,  and  might  dispose  of  herself  in  marriage  as  she 
thought  fit.  The  archbbhop  tiuished  by  asking  the  people  iu  a  land 
Toice,  whether  any  one  there  objected  to  this  decision,  upon  which  they 
answered  unanimously,  with  a  loud  shoui, '  that  the  matter  was  rightly 
settled.'  Accordingly  the  lady  was  immediately  married  to  the  king, 
and  crowned  before  thai  vast  assembly."  '  A  more  simple  yet  majestic 
appeal  to  the  aeuse  of  the  people,  in  regaid  to  a  royal  marriage,  history 
records  noL 

To  this  auspicious  union  of  the  Anglo-Norman  sovereign  Henry  L 
with  Maiitda  of  Scotland,  a  princess  of  Englisli  lineage,  English  edne»- 
tion,  and  an  English  heart,  we  may  trace  alt  the  constitutional  blessings 
whicli  litis  free  country  at  present  enjoys.  It  was  through  the  influence 
of  this  virtuous  queen  that  Hcnrj-  grantetl  iIlc  important  charter  which 
fonneil  the  model  and  precedent  of  that  great  palladimn  of  Eogliab  lib- 
erty. Magna  Charta;  and  we  ctdl  upon  our  readers  to  obseivc,  thai  it 
was  the  direct  ancestress  of  our  present  sovereign-lady,  who  refused  W 
quit  her  gloomy  conventual  prison,  and  to  give  her  hand  to  the  hand- 
somest and  most  accompliBhed  sovereign  of  his  time,  till  she  liad  obtained 
jUBt  and  merciful  laws  for  her  suflering  country,  the  repeal  of  the  tytaa* 
nical  imposiiion  of  the  curfew,  and,  in  some  slight  degree,  a  recogoiticai 
of  the  rights  of  the  commons. 

When  the  marriage  of  Matilda  of  Scotland  with  Iletuy  I.  took  p)aei, 
t  hundred  copies  of  this  digest  of  the  righteous  laws  of  Alfred  aud  Eil- 
ward  the  Confessor  were  made,  and  committed  to  the  keeping  of  th( 


^H     t  hundre 
^K  ward  the 


'  William  t>r  MKlnubiuy. 


HATILnA    OF    SCOTLAND.  97 


bishoprics  anti  niomslt^rjes  in  England  ;  but  when  these  were 
for,  ill  ihe  reign  of  John,  li>  furm  a  legal  authority  for  the 
of  the  people,  Rapiu  says,  only  one  could  be  found,  which  was 
I  i<j  th«  barons  by  CBrdinal  I^iiglon.  Thia  vas,  in  Gict,  ihe 
io<lr)  on  which  Magna  Charta  was  framed. 
mippiMed  that  Henry  1.,  al\er  Matilda's  death,  destroyed  all  the 
which  he  could  lay  his  Imnda)  of  a  covenant  which,  in  the 
of  his  leign,  he  scrupled  not  lo  iufriuge  whenever  he  felt 

after  recording  ihe  death  of  ihe  Ited  King,  relatea  the  accea- 
H«aty  I-,  and  bis  mairiage  with  Mutilda  of  Scotland,  in  the  foW 

■Hent;  hU  brother,  ibe  flttl  king  of  ibal  name, 
Wm  crowned  with  nil  tlio  honour  Ibai  migtit  lie; 

Hb  [«coariled  St  Ad»>Iiii  who  name  home,  

Anil  cniwnpd  Maudr  his  wire  full  Ihir  and  f^se  f 
Tbm  daugJitur  wu  ((Ull  of  b&nignile) 
To  king  MaJrolyne  and  Si.  Margrcts  llie  queen 
or  Scollmu),  which  albre  that  liine  bad  been  ; 

Of  whom  ha  gu  William,  Richard,  and  Molde, 
WhOie  KOndoHsa  ii  yet  spoken  of  full  wide ; 

It  alia  w«i«  fall,  her  vtriuea  nian;-Jold 

Eteaeded  far— nil  vice  ^e  lei  aside ; 
JVbatei  thai  were  engendcTed  of  pride 
Bke  w  11  rot  with  all  bcnevoionce. 
Ami  visited  ibe  sick  and  pour  with  diligeoce. 

Thft  priaanBii  and  women  cka  with  child, 

Lfing  in  abjpct  mi^pry  ay  about, 

Cloibai,  meat,  and  bedding  new  and  andoflled, 

And  wine  and  ale  ibe  gave  wiihouien  doubt, 

When  the  saw  need  in  countries  all  ihiouKboat, 

TboM  oroaseB  all  that  fet  be  most  royal 

In  the  bighwajrs,  with  gold  site  made  them  all."' 


MATILDA  OF  SCOTLAND. 

QUEEN    OF    HENRY    I. 


CHAPTER  II. 


of  Matilda'*  maniage— Called  Mntilda  Atheling— Her  oliaiitie*— Her 

■ '       Aleiander  the  Fierce — Her  works  of  utility— Equitable  Iswa  of 

Ds  nickname  tho  king  uid  quean — Duke  Robert'a  icTasioa 

loiaiian  l&r  Matilda — MutilJannd  arch bieliop's  mediation — Benrj  * 

vldl  arohbiihop  Anselm — Duke  Robert'i  visit — Piesenli  his  peosioa 

'  Sir  Benrf  ElUt'i  rartion. 


^ 


MATILDA 


F      SCOTLA 


[D. 


I 
f 


Malilda — Bepenta — Anselni'i  rpliiin  u- Engl  anil — Malilda'*  Triendilup  Ibt 
hltn — Binb  of  princcia  Mntilda — Robfrl  regieu  hii  p«tisioa — Kevil(»  MstiU* 
— Bfttlle  of  Tinchebnj— CnptiirA  of  Boberi  and  iho  queen'i  unci?  EdgU— 
FBTiloned  Ihioiqcb  the  qofim  n  influence — Court  flrel  keplat  Windeor  by  Brai; 
•nd  Malilda — Piinceu  Matilda  betrodied  lo  the  emperoT — Court  at  Winckt^ 
ter — Rrmoval  at  king  Alficd  a  bones — Mairisgo  of  Frince  William — Depuma 
of  CDipTcia  Matilda — Paiiiameni  hrlil — Wontlslncic  palace  coinplelnl — Brroll 
in  Normandr— Illncts  of  ilie  queen— Hec  death— King  Henry's  grief— BukI 
nf  MBt.lda — Iniciiption  10  her  memory — Hrr  fBlaco  at  Wnlm inkier — Pwirnl 
remain* — PoMiaii  of  Maulda^-Het  children — Death  of  her  elde^i  Kn — Th* 
ampicM  Matilila. 

Matilda's  EnglUh  ancestry, and  English  eiluestion,  renderH  the  oew 
king's  marrkge  wiili  her  a  most  papular  mensure  with  the  AngloSaion 
people,  oC  whom  the  great  bulk  of  his  atihjecls  was  compoaetl.  By 
theni  tlie  royal  bride  was  fondly  styled  Matilda  Alheling.  and  regarded 
as  the  lepreseniative  of  tlieir  own  regreltcd  sovereigns.  The  allegiance 
wtiicb  the  mighty  Norman  conqueror,  and  his  despotic  son,  the  Red 
King,  had  never  been  able  to  obtain,  except  through  the  sternest  ine«- 
sures  of  compulsion,  and  which,  in  deiiance  of  the  dreadful  penalties  c' 
loss  of  eyes,  limbs,  and  life-,  had  been  frequently  withdrawn  from  thSM 
powerful  monarchs,  was  freely  and  faitlifuljy  accorded  to  the  husband  of 
Malilda,  Henry  I.,  by  the  Saxon  population.  All  the  refomis  eflect«d  by 
his  enlightened  government,  and  all  the  good  laws  which  his  cnlargMJ 
views  of  political  economy  taught  that  wise  monarch  to  adopt,  were 
attributed,  by  his  Anglo-SAXon  subjects,  to  the  beneficial  influence  of  hi* 
young  queen. 

Robert  of  Gloucester  was  fully  impressed  with  these  ideas,  as  we 
may  plainly  perceive  in  the  following  lines  in  his  rhyming  chronicle)  ia 
which  he  speaks  of  HenrA's  marriage  : — 

"  So  thai  as  soon  as  he  waa  king,  on  81.  Martyn'a  day  I  ween. 
He  (pouted  her  that  was  called  Claude  the  good  queen,  ^^ 

Thai  wai  kt*d'  htir  a/ England,  ai  I  have  lold  before.  ^^H 


Man 


a  England, 


Five-and-ihirty  years  had  elapsed  since  the  metropolis  had  enjajti 
the  advantage  of  a  resident  court.  Matilda  of  Flanders,  dn ring  her  t»itf 
visit  to  England,  held  her  state  at  Westminster,  the  ferotirite  abode  tt 
the  two  tirsi  Anglo-Xorman  monarchs ;  and  the  Londoners,  whoR 
prosperity  had  sensibly  diminished  in  consequence  of  the  entire  abiwnce 
of  female  royalty-,  beheld  with  unfeigned  satisfaciioa  the  palace  of  Gil- 
ward  the  Confessor,  at  Westminster,  once  more  graced  by  the  preseiK* 
of  a  queen  of  the  blood  of  Alfred,  whose  virtues,  piety,  and  learaiitf^ 
rendered  her  a  worthy  successor  of  the  last  Saxon  queen  who  had  bJo 
her  court  there,  Editha, 

'■  That  giBciou*  nwe  of  Godwin'j  thomy  siem." 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND.  99 

Those  to  whom  the  memory  of  that  illustrious  lady  was  justly  dear, 
were  probably  not  unmindful  of  the  fact,  that  the  youthful  queen,  on 
whom  the  hopes  of  England  were  so  fondly  fixed,  had  received  that 
gamine  Saxon  name  at  the  baptismal  font ;  and  though,  in  compliment 
lo  her  Norman  god&ther,  she  was  called  Matilda,  she  was  also  Editha. 

Like  her  saindy  predecessor,  Matilda  fully  verified  the  primitive  title 
bestowed  by  the  Saxon  on  their  queens,  Hlaficlige,  or  the  giver  of  bread. 
Her  charities  were  of  a  most  extensive  character,  and  her  tender  com- 
passioo  for  the  sofierings  of  the  sick  poor  carried  her  almost  beyond 
the  bounds  c^  reason,  to  say  nothing  of  the  restraints  imposed  on  roy- 
alty. She  imitated  the  example  of  her  mother,  the  saintly  queen  of 
Scotland,  both  in  the  strictness  of  her  devotional  exercises,  and  in  her 
personal  attentions  to  those  who  were  labouring  under  bodily  afflic- 
tions.' She  went  every  day  in  Lent  to  Westminster  Abbey,  barefoot, 
and  clothed  in  a  garment  of  haircloth ;  and  she  would  wash  and  kiss 
the  feet  of  the  poorest  people,  for  which,  according  to  Robert  of  Glou- 
cester, she  was  once  reproved,  not  without  reason,  by  a  courtier.  He 
had  lias  answer,  however,  as  our  readers  will  perceive  from  the  follow- 
ing curious  dialogue  >- 

**  *■  Madam,  ibr  Ciodde*8  love  is  this  well  ado 
To  handle  such  unclean  limbs,  and  to  kiss  so  1 
Foul  woald  the  king  think  if  this  thing  he  wist, 
And  right  well  arile  him  ere  he  your  li]>s  kisL* 
*  Sir,  sir  I*  quoth  the  queen,  *■  be  still.    Why  saj  you  to? 
Our  Lord  himself  example  gave  for  to  do  so.' "  * 

On  another  occasion,  her  brother,  Alexander  the  Fierce,  king  of  Scot- 
land, when  on  a  visit  to  the  court  of  her  royal  husband,  entering  Matil- 
da's apartments,  found  her  on  her  knees,  engaged  in  washinff  the  feet  of 
some  aged  mendicants ;  on  which  she  entreated  him  to  avau  himself  of 
the  opportunity  of  performing  a  good  and  acceptable  work  of  charity 
and  humiliation,  by  assisting  her  in  this  labour  of  love,  for  the  benefit 
of  his  soul.' 

The  wariike  majesty  of  Scotland  smiled,  and  left  the  room,  without 
making  any  reply  to  this  invitation.  Perhaps  he  was  conscious  of  his 
want  of  skill  as  an  assistant  at  a  pediluvium  party ;  or  it  might  be  that 
he  had  seen  too  much  of  such  scenes  during  the  life  of  his  pious  mother 
qoeen  Margaret,  and  feared  that  his  sister  would  carry  her  works  of  be- 
nevolence to  extremes  that  might  prove  displeasing  to  the  tastes  of  so 
refined  a  prince  as  Henry  Beauclerc. 

Bat  to  do  Matilda  justice,  her  good  works  in  general  bore  a  character 
of  more  extended  usefulness ;  so  much  so,  that  we  even  feel  the  benefit 
of  them  to  this  day,  in  the  ancient  bridge  she  built  over  ^  my  Lady  Lea.'' 
Once  being,  with  her  train  on  horseback,  in  danger  of  perishing  while 
fording  the  river  Lea,  at  Oldford,  during  a  JdghJIood^  in  gratitude  for  her 
preservation,  she  built  the  first  arched  bridge  ever  known  in  England,  a 
little  higher  up  the  stream,  called  by  the  Saxons  Bow  *  Bridge,  still  to 

>  Weever.  *  Robert  of  Gloucester.  '  M.  Paris. 

*  Bow,  from  ftofta,  an  arch,  a  word  in  the  German  language,  pronounced  with 
the  g  aoanded  like  y,  which  brings  it  close  to  the  Angto-Saxon. 


STiKS'^TiSS 


^ 


I 

I 


at  Siroironl-le-Bow. "  though  the  ancient  and  mighty  Lonilog 
Uriilge  h»s  been  broken  down." 

Bow  Bridge  she  built  at  the  head  of  the  lown  of  Stiatfon] ;  likewiw 
Channel's  Bridge,  over  a  iribuiary  siream  of  the  Lea,  the  way  beiireen 
ihem  being  well  paved  with  gravel.  She  gave  certain  manors,  a  [id  a  mill 
ralM  Wiggin  Mill,  for  ever,  towards  keeping  in  repair  (he  said  bridget 
and  way.' 

Alatilda  founded  the  hospital  at  St.  Giles  in  the  Fields,  and  also  Chrhl 
Church,'  which  stood  on  the  very  spot  now  called  Dnke's  Place,  noted 
as  the  resort  of  a  low  class  of  Jews. 

This  exceUent  queen  also  directed  her  attention  to  the  importmt 
object  of  making  new  roads,  and  repturing  the  ancient  highway*,  thai 
had  Inllen  into  decay  during  the  stormy  years  which  hail  succeeded  thi 
peaceful  and  prosperous  reign  of  her  great  uncle,  Edward  tlie  ConfcsMt, 
By  this  means,  travellers  and  itinerant  merchants  were  greatly  facibtatrd, 
in  tlieir  journeys  through  the  then  wild  and  perilous  country,  which, 
with  the  exception  of  the  four  great  Roman  ways,'  was  only  inieracctaJ 
by  a  few  scattered  carl-tracks,  through  desolate  moora,  heaths,  and 
uncultivated  wastes  and  woodlands.  These  public  benefits,  which  Mi^ 
tilda  tlie  Good  conferred  upon  tlie  people  from  whose  patriotic  nii>- 
narchs  she  derived  her  descent,  were  in  all  probability  ilie  frnits  of 
her  regency,  during  the  absence  of  her  royal  husband  in  Nonnaiuly-, 
for  it  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed  that  snch  stupendous  underlakiogl 
could  have  been  eflected,  by  the  limited  power  and  revenues  of  a  mtre 
queenHMnsort. 

Henry  the  First,  be  it  remembered,  was  placed  on  the  ^rone  by  ifu 
Saxon  dirisian  of  his  subjects,  who  were  the  commons  of  England,  and 
by  litem  he  was  supported  in  his  regal  authority  agninst  t>ie  NotiMD 
aristocracy,  who  formed  a  powerful  parly,  in  fevour  of  his  elder  broilier'i 
pretensions  to  the  crown  of  England.  The  moral  and  political  reforms 
with  which  Henry  commenced  his  reign,  and,  above  all,  the  cven-handsd 
measure  of  justice  which  he  caused  to  be  observed  towards  all  who  pre- 
sumed to  infringe  ihe  laws,  gave  great  oQbnce  to  many  of  tliose  haugbij 
nobles  who  had  been  accustomed  to  commit  the  most  (lagrant  crinwa 
with  impunity,  and  to  oppress  their  hmnbler  neighbours,  withont  lirar 
of  being  anaianed  for  their  misdeeds.  The  estabhshroent  of  ttie  ei]iii(i- 
ble  laws  whicl  protected  the  wives  and  daughtere  of  Englishmen  froa 
insult,  the  honest  trader  from  wrong  and  robbery,  and  the  poor  (tea 
violence,  were  attributed  to  the  inQuence  of  Matilda,  whom  they  insult' 
ingly  styled  "the  Saxon  woman,"'  and  murmured  at  the  rimoM 
fwlf«i(its  which  her  preaence  and  authority  imposed  upon  the  eoort' 
The  conjugal  afleciJon  which  subsisted  between  the  royal  pair,  exeiiedi 
witfial,  tlie  ridicule  of  those  who  bod  been  the  profligate  associates  of 

Hafwnitl'i  Tluee  Norman  Eingi.  'PeunanL 

Which  mightr  woiki  were  of  iiifimie  uh  u>  oiir  anceaion  in  ngei  laier  tbse  Af 
Noiunui  era.     Kobcrl  of  Gloucesier  ipwJii  of  (heir  uiiLity  m  hu  daj,  and  i^ 

"Thilk  wnj-p  by  mony  a  town  do  wend." 
Thifny.  *EBdiMV. 


MATILDA     OF    SCOTLAND.  101 

the  bachelor  king,  William  Rufiu ;  and  it  was  universally  displeasing  to 
the  haughty  Norman  peers,  to  see  the  king's  gracious  demeanour 
towards  the  hitherto  oppressed  and  dispirited  English  portion  of  his  sub- 
jects, for  whom  his  amiable  consort  was  constantly  labouring  to  procure 
a  recognition  of  their  rights.  ^  The  malice  of  certain  evil-minded  men," 
says  E^mer,  ^  busied  itself  in  inventing  the  most  cutting  railleries  on 
king  Henry  and  his  wife  of  English  blood.  They  nicknamed  them 
Leofric  and  Godiva,  and  always  called  them  so  when  not  in  the  royal 
presence.''  *  It  is  probable  that  Warren,  the  disappointed  suitor  of  Ma- 
tdda,  and  his  kinsman  Mortimer,  with  others  of  the  audacious  Norman 
quens^  who  had  previously  exercised  their  wit  in  bestowing  an  offensive 
Mobriquet  on  Henry  before  his  accession  to  the  throne,  were  among  the 
foremost  of  those  invidious  detractors,  who  could  not  endure  to  wimess 
the  wedded  happiness  of  their  sovereign,  and  the  virtuous  influence  of 
his  youthful  queen. 

The  invasion  of  duke  Robert,  Henry's  eldest  brother,  on  his  return 
from  the  Holy  Land,  took  place  in  the  second  year  of  Matilda's  mar- 
riage. King  Henry's  fleet  being  manned  with  Norman  seamen,  and,  of 
course,  under  the  influence  of  Norman  chiefs,  revolted,  and,  instead  of 
guarding  the  coasts  of  England  from  the  threatened  invasion  of  the  duke, 
swept  across  the  narrow  seas,  and  brought  him  and  his  armament  in 
triumph  to  Portsmouth,  where  he  was  joined  by  tlie  majority  of  the 
Anglo-Nonnan  baronage.'  Robert  had  also  his  partisans  among  the 
English ;  for  Edgar  Atheling  so  far  forgot  the  interests  of  his  royal 
niece,  queen  Matilda,  as  to  espouse  the  cause  of  his  fnend  Robert  against 
the  king  her  husband. 

Robert  landed  at  Portsmouth,  and  marched  direct  to  Winchester,  where 
queen  Matilda  then  lay  in  with  her  flrst-born  child,  William  the  Atheling. 
When  this  circumstance  was  related  to  the  duke,  he  relinquished  his 
purpose  of  storming  the  city,  with  the  observation,  ^  that  it  never  should 
be  said  he  conunenced  the  war  by  an  assault  on  a  woman  in  childbed, 
for  that  would  be  a  base  action.'" 

Matilda  duly  appreciated  this  generous  consideration,  on  the  part  of 
her  ro3ral  brodier-in-law  and  godfather,  and  exerted  all  her  influence  to 
negotiate  a  peace  between  him  and  her  lord,  in  which  she  was  assisted 
by  the  good  offices  of  the  archbishop  Anselm ;  and  this  formidable  crisis 
passed  over  without  the  eflusion  of  a  drop  of  blood.^  These  are  Har- 
dinge's  words  on  the  subject : 

**But  Anselm  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
And  queen  Matilda,  made  tliem  well  accord; 
The  king  to  pay  three  thousand  marks  yearly 
To  duke  Robert,  withouten  more  discord." 

AAer  this  happy  pacification,  Henry  invited  Robert  to  become  his 
goest  at  the  court,  where  the  easy-tempered  duke  was  feasted  and  enter- 
tained, greatly  to  his  satisfaction,  by  his  royal  god-daughter  Matilda,' 
who,  in  her  love  of  music,  and  the  encouragement  she  bestowed  on 

^Eadmer.     Thierxy.  *  Saxon  Annals,  a.d.  1101. 

'  Cbronique  de  Normandie.  *  Ibid.  *  VL  Pax\&. 

9» 


I 


I 


IfK  MATILDA    OF    SC  OT  I.  A  :«  D. 

minsliels,  or  Iromieres,  quite  coincided  vith  the  uatea  of  her  epotaot 
and  broUier-in-Uw ;  "  for,"  rays  Malmsbur>'i  "  e^eiy  poel  haslMted  to 
ilie  court  of  Matilda  to  read  his  verses  to  that  queen,  and  to  partake  of 
her  bounty."  '  So  much  did  Robert  enjoy  hia  sojourn  at  Henry's  court, 
that  he  stayed  ihere  upwards  of  six  moiiiha,  though  liis  presence  wu 
grpBily  required  in  his  own  dominions* 

An  uufortunale  nibunderslanding  took  place  between  Henry  and  the 
archbishop  Anselm,  early  in  the  yew-  1103.  Tliia  quarrel  originated  in 
an  aileropt  made  by  the  archbishop,  to  deprive  the  king  of  s  privilege, 
which  had  been  claimed  by  the  Saxon  monarchs,  of  appointing  his  owa 
bishops  Aneelm  wished  to  restore  the  nominaiion  to  ihc  chapten, 
which  llenry  resolutely  opposed.  Both  appealed  to  the  pope,  bm  Ab- 
Gelm  went  to  Rome,  to  plead  his  own  cause  against  the  king's  thrM 
advocates,  and  remained  in  exile. 

The  following  year  Robert  revisited  England,  either  to  demand  pay- 
ment of  hia  pension,  or  to  raise  a  revolt.  He  was,  however,  attended 
by  only  twelve  gentlemen.  Henry,  having  speedy  information  of  hu 
landing,  declared,  if  he  fell  into  liia  hands,  he  would  keep  him  so  closely 
imprisoned,  that  he  should  never  give  him  any  more  trouble.  "'  Not  mv 
eint,"  replied  the  count  de  Melleni,  «  he  is  yotir  brother,  and  God  Imbiif 
tliat  you  should  do  so  great  a  villany;  let  me  meet  and  talk  with  bin, 
and  I  will  take  care  that  he  shall  return  quietly  into  Normandy,  lad 
give  you  acquittance  of  his  pension  withal." 

"  By  my  &iih,"  replied  the  king,  "  1  will  make  yon  do  what  you  say." 
The  count  then  mounted  his  horse,  and  encountering  duke  Robert  «n 
the  road  to  Southampton,  greeted  him  with  these  words:  '^St.Maiy! 
what  brings  you  into  this  country  f  Who  has  eiven  you  such  Ciial 
counsel?  Tou  know  you  have  hitherto  compelled  (he  king  to  pay  yoB 
four  iliousand  marks  a-year,  and  for  this  cause  you  will  be  taken  and 
put  to  death,  or  detained  in  prison  for  life.  He  is  deierniineil  lo  bt 
avenged  on  yon,  I  promise  you."  When  the  duke  heard  this  ha  mf 
greatly  disturbnl,  and  asked  '^  if  he  could  not  return  to  SouthampMti  ?" 
"No,"  replied  Melleni,  "the  king  will  cause  you  to  be  intercepted;  bat 
even  if  you  could  reach  that  place,  the  wiud  is  contrary  for  yoar  taeapi 
by  sea.'^ 
"Counsel  me,"  cried  the  duke. "  what  I  ought  to  do." 
*»  Sire,"  replied  the  count,  "  the  queen  is  apprised  of  the  nem,  ml 
you  know  that  you  showed  her  great  kindness  when  you  gave  dp  ttw 
BAMiilt  on  Winchester,  because  she  lay  in  cliildbed  there.  Hasten  to 
her,  and  commit  yourself  and  your  people  to  her  care,  and  [  am  sure  *i» 
will  guard  you  from  all  harm."  Then  duke  Robert  went  to  the  qneea! 
and  sbe  received  and  reassured  him  very  amiably,  and  by  the  sweel 
words  she  said  to  him,  and  the  fear  he  was  in  of  being  token,  ho  vai 

'Matilda  wm  »o generous  h  palron  of  poeli  Biiii  minsirela,  lliat  tlie  irhrtnicbn 

declan  tbej  crowded  Ler  rouil  from  nil  paiti  of  Europe,  and  Ndtiff  h«t  imim 

III  jireHnted  her  wilti  their  ptneffftici ;  sJid  Ilie  onljr  fnuli  leA  oa  het  masiarf 

thai  ifae  HMneiime*  oppteueU  liei  lenanu.  and  jpeni  ber  monueg  too  ciMdj. 

...      _  ■    ,    ..  "■  ■limm  of  Malraabury.  ' 

'Cbtoniqna  da  Normandia. 


J*.  uiH  Ban  BuiiiBujiie*  oppreued  nri  wiiBrjis. 
in  providiiig  rewanli  Ibr  ihete  BBDUy. — Will. 

I    *ina. " — ^ — '-  • 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND.  103 

induced  to  sacrifice  those  pecuniary  claims  on  the  king  his  brother,  for 
which  he  had  resigned  the  realm  of  England. 

When  Henry  hound  that  his  brother  had  granted  an  acquittance  for  this 
money  to  the  queen,  he  sent  to  the  queen,  to  come  to  him  with  duke 
Robert.  Matilda  brought  the  duke  to  the  king,  and  the  duke  thus  ad- 
dressed him : 

^  Fair  sire,  I  am  come  to  see  you  out  of  afiection,  and  not  to  injure 
either  you  or  yours.  We  are  brothers,  bom  of  one  &ther  and  one  mo- 
ther. If  I  am  the  eldest,  you  liave  the  honour  of  a  crown,  which  is  a 
much  better  thing.  I  love  you  well,  and  thus  it  ought  to  be.  Money 
and  rents  J  seek  not  of  you,  nor  ever  will.  I  have  quitted  to  the  queen 
all  yoa  owe  me  for  this  kingdom.  Enter  we  now  together  into  perfect 
amity.  We  will  exchange  gifts  of  jewels,  dogs,  and  birds,  with  such 
things  as  ought  to  be  between  brothers  and  friends." 

^  We  will  do  as  yon  say,"  replied  the  king,  ^  and  thanks  for  what 
you  have  said." ' 

The  Saxon  chronicler  and  some  other  historians  affirm,  indeed,  that 
he  invaded  England ;  ^  but  it  is  plain,"  says  Sir  John  Hay  ward,  ^  that 
he  only  came  mr  di^rt  and  play,"  that  is,  to  recreate  himself  at  the 
eovti  of  Henry  Beauclerc,  and  to  enjoy  the  agreeable  society  of  the 
queen  his  god^ughter,  with  the  music  and  minstrelsy  in  which  they 
both  so  greatly  de^ghted. 

Well  would  it  have  been  for  the  luckless  Robert,  if  all  his  tastes  liad 
been  equally  harmless  and  refined ;  but  he  had  propensities  disgraceful 
to  his  character  as  an  individual,  and  ruinous  to  his  fortunes  as  a  prince. 
The  chroniclers  relate  that  he  indulged  in  such  excess  of  revelry,  while 
he  was  at  the  Enriish  court,  that  he  was  often  in  a  state  of  inebriation 
foi  days  together.' 

According  to  some  historians,  Robert  resigned  his  pension  to  Matilda 
at  a  carouse,  and  when  he  becaime  aware  of  the  folly  of  which  he  had 
been  guilty,  he  was  greatly  exasperated,  and  bitterly  reproached  his  bro- 
ther Henry  ^  with  having  cheated  and  despoiled  him,  by  employing  the 
queen  to  beguile  him  with  &ir  words  out  of  his  pension,  when  he  was 
under  the  influence  of  wine."* 

There  was  nothing  but  animosity  between  the  royal  brothers,  after 
this  a&ir.  Robert's  indignation  at  the  trick  he  had  been  played,  led 
him  to  make  use,  not  only  of  reproaches,  but  menaces,  against  Henry, 
who  availed  himself  of  that  excuse  to  make  war  upon  him.  In  the  year 
1 104,  Henry  left  the  ffovemment  of  England  in  the  prudent  hands  of 
Matil^  and  embarked  for  Normandy.  While  there,  he  consented  to 
meet  Anselou  the  archbishop,  at  the  castle  of  PAigle,  where,  through  the 
mediation  of  his  sister  Adela,  countess  of  Blois,  a  reconciliation  was 
happily  eflected.  Anselm  then  returned  to  En^nd,  where  he  was  met 
at  Dover  by  the  queen  Matilda,  who  received  and  welcomed  him  with 
the  greatest  demonstrations  of  satisfaction.*    As  the  venerable  primate 

*  Chroniqae  do  Normandie,  24S->9.  *  Eadmer.  '  Ibid.  Gemiticensis. 

*  Fucal  IL  admitted  Anselm,  the  ikvourite  priest  and  prelate  of  Matilda,  to  a 
■eat  near  his  right  ibot,  saying,  "  We  admit  this  prelate  into  our  circle,  he  being, 
as  if  were,  the  pope  of  the  &rther  hemisphere."— Godwin  de  Ihaei* 


I 

I 


404  HAT1I.0A    OF    SCOTIiAnn. 

in  leeble  health,  ihe  queen  look  llie  precaution  of  preceding  him  pn 
nrait  from  Dover  to  ihe  oietrapolie,  proTicliag,  as  she  went.  Cor  h* 
comfurls  aud  Accoioinudaiion.' 

Matilda,  ind^'pendeuLly  of  the  feeling  of  political  cxpodiency  wltidi 
rendered  this  public  lestimonial  of  respect  to  the  archbishop  oceinUci 
After  the  onpopuUr  schism  between  him  and  her  royal  husband,  ms,  is 
all  probability,  oatundly  inclined  to  testify  her  regard  for  a  person  who 
tiad  been  to  actively  ioatniineiital  ia  raising  her  to  tlie  exalted  siatioa 
which  she  then  enjoyed. 

Tct  the  return  of  Anseloi  was  attended  with  circumstances  which  ga*( 
great  pain  to  Matilda,  as  an  English  queen.  Both  the  king  anil  arch- 
bishop, after  their  reconciliation,  uniietl  in  enforcing  inesorably  the  cct 
bary  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  clergy,  whose  lower  orders  had  previotwly 
been  able  lo  obtain  licenses  to  marry.  Anselm  now  excommunicated 
kll  the  married  clergy. 

Two  hundred  of  these  unfortunate  Saxons,  barefoot,  but  clad  in  iheit 
clerical  robes,  encountered  the  king  and  queen  in  the  streets  of  London. 
They  implored  the  king's  compassion  j  he  turned  from  them  with  vcnli 
of  insult.  They  then  supplicated  the  queen  lo  intercede  for  ilicfu,  bol 
Matilda,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  assured  them  "'  that  she  dared  n&t  inbo^ 
fere."' 

The  year  1104  was  marked  by  the  binh  of  a  princess,  who  was  fini 
named  Alice,  or  Adelais,'  but  whose  name  the  king  afterwards  cliangeil 
to  that  of  his  beloved  and  popular  queen,  Matilda.  This  princ««t  WM 
afterwards  the  celebrated  empress  Matilda.  Some  writers,  on  the  aiulu^ 
rily  of  Gervasius,  the  monk  of  Canterbury,  assert  that  she  was  the  fat 
born  child  of  Henrj-  and  Afatilda;  but  tjie  fact  that  prince  WillioiikTli 


tborn  child  of  Henrj-  and  Aiatilda;  but  tjie  fact  that  prince  Wdlwiik-«||^^ 
eighteen  at  the  lime  when  the  fatal  loss  of  the  nliite  ship  deprived  JE^^| 
land  of  her  heir  apparent,  in  the  year  1 1 20,  makes  it  evident  that  Iw^^H 
the  eldest  of  the  two.  It  has  been  said  that  Matilda  placed  iter  iSl^n 
(laughter,  for  education  and  nmture.  in  tlte  Koyal  Abbey  of  W3t^^ 


I 


where  uhe  had  herself  completed  Iter  studies. 

The  profound  trwiquillily  thai  subt.istcd  in  her  husband's  dominions, 
during  his  frequent  absences  in  r^onnBnJy,is  a  proof  that  Matilda  ns- 
tterslood  the  art  of  domestic  goTcmment,  and  practised  it  with  a  liap- 
pier  eflect  tlian  the  two  first  Anglo-Normaji  sovereigns,  whose  teips 
were  so  greatly  disturl>ed  by  insurrections. 

Henry,  oRei  his  successful  campaign  iti  Normandy,  returned  to  Eng- 
land— ni  his  personal  appearance,  ut  least,  an  altered  man.  The  An^(^ 
Normans  Imd  adopted  the  picitire^jue  Saxon  fashion — which,  however, 
was  ccHilineil  to  persons  of  high  rank  —  of  wearing  their  liair  long,  aad 
Howing  in  ringlets  on  tlieir  shoulders ;  and  tlie  king  was  rtinarkable  iat 
the  luxuriance  and  beauty  of  his  lovp-locks,  which  he  cherished  viih 
peculiai'  care,  no  doubt  out  of  a  laudable  desire  to  conform  to  the  butw 
of  Ids  queen,  the  daughter  of  a  Saxon  princess.  His  courtiers  imhatal 
the  royal  example,  which  gave  great  ncandal  to  the  Norman  ctcrff- 
One  day,  while  the  king  was  in  Normandy,  he  and  his  train  eiiioM  a 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND.  105 

ehnrch,  where  an  ecdesiastic  of  the  name  of  Serlo,  bishop  of  Seez,  took 
ap  his  parable  on  the  ainfalneas  of  this  new  fashion/  ^  which,"  he  pro- 
tested, ^  was  a  deTice  of  the  evil  one  to  bring  souls  into  everlasting  per- 
dition ;  compared  the  moustached,  bearded,  and  long-haired  men  of  that 
age  to  filthy  goats  ;'^  and,  in  short,  made  so  moving  a  discourse  on  the 
unloveliness  of  their  present  appearance,  that  the  king  of  England  and 
his  eonrtiers  melted  into  tears ;  on  which  Serlo,  perceiving  the  impres- 
sion which  his  eloquence  had  made,  drew  a  pair  of  scissors  out  of  his 
sleeve,  and,  instead  of  permitting  their  penitence  to  evaporate  in  a  few 
unmeaning  drops,  persuaded  his  royal  and  noble  auditors  to  prove  the 
sincerity  of  their  repentance,  by  submitting  their  ringlets  to  his  discre- 
tion, and  brought  hu  triumph  to  a  climax,  by  polling  the  king  and  con- 
gregation with  his  own  hands.' 

Henry  was  then  courting  popularity,  in  the  duchy  of  Normandy,  and 
well  knew  that  the  readiest  way  to  effect  his  object,  was  to  win  the 
good  report  of  the  monks.  He  had  previously  scandalized  all  piously 
disposed  persons,  by  choosing  for  his  private  chaplain  a  priest  whose 
only  merit  consisted  in  being  able  to  hurry  over  matins  and  mass  in  half 
an  hour.  This  was  Roger  le  Poer,'  afterwards  the  rich  and  potent 
bishop  c^  Salisbury,  whose  hasty  despatch  of  the  morning  service  so 
charmed  Henry,  that  he  swore  aloud  in  the  church,  ^  that  he  had  at 
length  met  with  a  priest  fit  for  a  soldier."  Roger,  when  he  received 
this  flattering  commendation  from  the  lips  of  royalty,  was  only  a  poor 
curate  at  Caen,  but  was  advanced  by  Henry  to  the  highest  preferment  in 
the  chureh  and  state. 

After  Henry  had  submitted  his  flowing  ringlets  to  the  reforming  shean 
of  Serlo,  he  published  an  edict,  compelling  his  lieges  to  relinquish  these 
sinful  adornments  also. 

Qpeen  Matilda  did  not  long  enjoy  the  society  of  her  royal  husband 
in  England,  and  during  the  brief  period  he  spent  with  her  at  Northamp- 
ton, in  the  winter  season,  his  whole  time  and  thoughts  were  employed 
in  raising  the  means  for  pursuing  the  war  in  Normandy.  His  unfortu- 
nate brotfier,  Robert,  finding  himself  sorely  pressed  on  every  side,  and 
left,  by  his  own  improvident  folly,  without  resources  for  continuing  the 
contest,  came  over  to  England  unattended,  and,  repairing  to  the  court  at 
Northampton,  forced  an  interview  with  Henry  *  (who  was  reluctant  to 
admit  him  into  his  presence),  and  earnestly  besought  his  compassion, 
telling  him  at  the  same  time,  ^  he  was  ready  to  submit  ever^nhing  to  his 
brotherly  lore,  if  he  would  only  permit  him  to  retain  the  appearance  of 
a  sovereign.'*  As  it  by  no  means  suited  Henry's  policy  to  yield  to  the 
dictates  of  natural  aflection,  he  coldly  turned  away,  muttering  some- 
thing to  himself,  that  was  unintelligible  to  the  by-standers,  and  which 
he  could  not  be  induced  to  explain. 

Robert's  quick  temper  could  not  brook  this  contemptuous  usage,  and, 
in  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  he  indignantly  assailed  his  younger  brother  with 
a  storm  of  reproaches,  mingled  with  abuse  and  menaces ;  and  without 
waiting  to  employ  the  good  offices  of  queen  Matilda,  through  whose 

>  Ordarieiu  Vltalis.  '  Ibid.  •  Godwin  de  Praes.  «  M.^vlt\%. 


r 


I 


VK  UATILDA    OF    SCOTL\IVD. 

kinill}'  inflapnce  it  b  possible  he  might  luive  obtained  reasonable  condi- 
lions  of  peace,  he  departed  from  Nortlinmptnn  the  saine  hour. 

Id  tlie  spring,  Henry  once  more  commiiied  the  domeaiic  aSiun  of  hi* 
kingdom  to  the  cnre  of  Matilda,  and  having  levied  an  enormous  tux  on 
his  subjects,  lo  support  the  upensca  of  the  war,  eintwrked  for  S<v 
mnndy. 

Matilda  waa  principally  employed,  during  the  king's  absenre,  in  vf 

grintendiog  the  inagnilicent  buildings  at  New  Windsor,  which  were 
mided  by  Henry,  and  in  the  completion  of  thu  royal  apaitments  in  iha 
Tower  of  London.  She.  as  well  as  Henry,  patronised  Gtmdulph,  ibt 
tjaacopei  architect,  to  whom  England  is  indebted  for  the  most  nnigni6- 
cent  and  lasting  of  her  public  buildings.  Itlany  useful  pubLe  work*,  to 
which  we  have  before  alluded,  furnished,  under  her  auspices,  emplt^ 
ment  for  the  working  classes,  and  iniproved  the  general  condition  of  ibe 
people. 

While  civilisation  and  the  art*  of  peace  were  rapidly  progresaiBg, 
throug!)  the  beneficial  influence  of  Maiiiila,  at  home,  the  arms  of  hef 
royul  consort  were  universally  triunipliani  in  Normandy.  The  unfo^ 
timale  Robert  Coutthose,  with  his  young  son  William,  (who  was  callsd 
Clito,  or  royal  heir,)  with  the  earl  of  Montaigne  and  all  the  nobles  of 
their  party,  were  taken  prisoners,  at  the  decisive  battle  of  I'inchebny, 
which  was  fought  on  the  vigil  of  St.  Michael,  exactly  forty  years  after 
the  famous  batde  of  Hastings.  The  English  were  much  elated  at  ihi* 
(^ircuniB lance,  whereby  they  flattered  ^eir  national  pride  with  the  idea, 
that  the  husband  of  their  beloved  queen,  of  Saxon  lineoget  had  wiped 
away  the  dishonour  <^  the  Norman  conquest,  by  subjugating  Normandy 
to  the  yoke  of  England.'  Edgar  Atheling,  Matilda^s  uncle,  was  lakra 
fighting  for  hb  friend  Robert  of  Normandy,  besides  four  hundred  valiant 
knights.*  Henry  instantly  released  the  aged  prince,  for  love  of  th« 
queen  his  niece,  say  some  of  the  chroniclers  of  that  period,  and  at  her 
intercession  settled  a  pension  upon  him  for  life. 

Henry,  now  at  the  summit  of  his  ambition,  baring  verified  the  death- 
bed prediction  of  his  father,  the  Conqueror,  that  he  should  unite  in  lii^ 
own  person  the  inheritance  of  both  his  brothers,  returned  Iriumphanilf 
lo  England  witli  his  unfortunate  captives.  Bobert  he  sent  to  Oordifl 
Castle,  where  for  a  lime  his  confinement  was  ordy  a  sort  of  honounUt 
restraint — at  least,  if  we  may  credit  ilie  account  which  Henry  tthntctf 
gives  of  it,  in  a  letter  to  the  pope ;  as  followa : 

«  1  have  not,"  says  he,  "  imprisoned  him  as  an  enemy ;  but  1  have 
placed  him  in  a  royal  castle,  as  a  noble  stranger  broke  down  with  many 
truvbies,  and  I  supply  him  abundantly  with  every  delicacy  and  eqjc^ 


1  year  at  Bath,  and,  during  ikt 
of  making  a  royal  prc^Hi 


?nry  and  Matilda  kept  their  Es 
Irmlurcd  the  popula 
through  dilferent  parts  of  England.' 

The  following  year  Henry  and  Matilda  kept  court,  for  Uie  first  tinft 
at  New  Windsor,  then  called,  from  the  picturesque  winding  of  the  lint 
Thames,  Windlesore. 

'  W.  Malmi^jurj. 


MATI&DA    OF    8COTLAHD.  107 

This  beautifal  retreat  was  originally  used  as  a  hunting-eeat  by  William 
the  Conqueror,  who,  for  better  security  of  his  person,  converted  it  into 
a  fortress  or  castle;  but  the  extensive  alterations  and  improvements 
which  the  elegant  tastes  of  the  Beauclerc  sovereign  and  his  accomplished 
consort  Matilda  of  Scotland  effected,  first  gave  to  Windsor  Castle  the 
magnificent  and  august  character,  as  a  royal  residence,  which  has  ren- 
dered it  ever  since  a  fiivourite  abode  with  succeeding  sovereigns. 

In  the  year  1108,  the  afiirs  of  Normandy  requiring  the  presence  of 
the  king,  another  temporary  separation  took  place  between  Matilda  and 
her  ro^  lord*  Indeed,  from  the  time  that  the  duchy  of  Normandy  was 
subjected  to  his  sway,  it  became  a  matter  of  necessity,  in  order  to  pre- 
serve his  popularity  with  his  continental  subjects,  to  pass  a  considerable 
portion  of  his  time  among  them.  Meanwhile  the  peace  and  integral 
prosperity  of  BIngland  were  best  promoted  by  the  presence  of  Matilda, 
who  formed  the  bond  of  union  between  Henry  of  Normandy  and  the 
Saxon  race.  Therefore  it  appears  to  have  been  a  measure  of  political 
expediency  for  her  to  remain,  with  her  splendid  court,  at  Westminster 
or  London,  endearine  henwlf  daily  more  and  more  to  the  people,  by  her 
works  of  princely  (Parity,  and  the  public  benefits  which  she  was  con- 
stantly labooring  to  promote.  Thus  we  see,  on  accurate  examination, 
that,  contrary  to  the  assertions  of  one  or  two  paradoxical  writers,  who 
have  assumcm  that  Matilda  was  not  treated  with  the  afiection  and  respect 
that  were  her  due  in  wedded  life,  she  enjoyed  a  degree  of  power  and 
influence  in  the  state,  perfectly  unknown  to  the  Saxon  queens. 

Matilda  was  so  nobly  dowered  withal,  that  in  after  reicns  the  highest 
demand  ever  made  on  the  part  of  a  queen-consort  was,  that  she  should 
be  endowed  with  a  dower  equal  to  that  of  Matilda  of  Scotland.* 

By  close  examination  of  the  earliest  authorities,  we  find,  that  the  first 
parlmments  held  by  the  Anglo-Norman  dynasty,  were  the  fruits  of  the 
virtuous  influence  of  this  excellent  queen  over  the  mind  of  her  husband. 
Bat  as  the  (act  that  parliaments  were  ever  held  before  the  reigns  of 
Henry  III.  and  Edward  I.  has  been  a  point  of  great  contest  among  modem 
historians,  we  feel  it  indispensable  to  bring  forward  our  proofs,  first,  that 
parliaments  were  held ;  and  next,  that  they  were  held  through  the  influ- 
ence of  Matilda.  The  eariiest  historian  who  wrote  in  English,  Robert 
of  Gloucester,  declares  of  Henry  I.' 

**  When  his  daughter  was  ten  years  old,  to  coaxicil  there  he  drew, 
On  a  Whitsunday,  a  greet  parliament  he  namt  (held) 
At  Weftmh»ter  noble  enow,  that  mneh  folk  came."  ' 

The  other  &ct  is  proved  by  Piers  of  Langtof^  a  parallel  historian, 
who  wrote  in  French,  and,  with  the  most  minute  detail,  points  out  the 
classes  of  whom  Matilda  advised  Henry  to  take  counsel— viz.,  barons, 
lonis  of  towns,  and  burgesses.    Here  are  the  lines : 

^TjrrrelL  '  Vol.  ii.,  p.  430.    The  edition  is  royal  octavo. 

*  Robert  of  Oloooetter  died  before  he  completed  the  reign  of  Henry  III  ;  con- 
•eqaently,  if  the  first  parliaments  were  held  in  that  of  Edward  I.,  he  could  not 
eren  have  mentioned  such  legislative  assemblies  without  possessing  the  gii\  of 
prophecy. 


Matilda  of  Scotland. 

'  Mkld  iliii  gnod  qseen  gnre  bim  in  c^ouixril 
To  JoTr  (ll  bii  Tolkt  and  Iroie  all  hit  ttirprik,  (dispuiingj 
To  benr  him  wiili  his  bBroiu  that  Leld  of  Urn  their  Ceet,  (feoU^, 
And  v>  lordi  of  towns  and  burgipsaca  of  cities  ; 
Thiongb  couni:iJ  of  Ditme  Maid,  s  kind  womaa  ind  mm, 
lantead  of  hatred  old,  there  now  wa»  ioTe  alt  new; 
Wow  love  <h^  fiill  Weil  the  barons  and  the  king. 
The  king  does  ilk  a  deal  ai  their  biddint." 


I 


I 

I 


Roben  of  Gloucester,  &om  first  to  last,  speaks  of  queen  MatitJa  u 
tax  active  agent  in  the  government  of  England,  and  the  resiurer  u>d 
upholder  of  the  Saron  fortn  of  legislature,  whose  sptem  was  that  of  a 
representative  constitution.     He  says, 

"The  goodness  thai  king  Henry  and  the  good  queen  Mold 
Did  to  tbii  Iimd  ne  may  never  be  sold." 

The  y«nr  1 109  must  have  been  an  era  of  eventful  interest  to  Matilik. 
Her  royal  husband,  having  spent  the  winter  and  spring  in  Nnroiuiiljr,' 
Teiumed  to  England  in  the  summer,  to  visit  her  and  their  infant  bmilgr, 
and  kept  court  with  ancommon  splendour,  in  his  new  palace  at  Windsor, 
which  liad  been  completed  in  his  absence.  It  was  there  that  he  recetveil 
the  ambaasadors  who  came  to  solicit  the  hand  of  the  princess  Malildt 
for  the  emperor  Henry  V,'  The  proposal  was  eagerly  acc«p(«d  br 
Henry  Beauelerc ;  sud  the  princess,  then  jusl  turned  of  five  year*  old, 
was  solemnly  espoused,  by  proxy,  to  her  roval  suitor,  who  was  fortr 
years  her  nenior;  but,  on  account  of  her  tender  age,  the  infiint  bfin 
was  aHowed  for  the  present  to  remain  under  the  care  of  the  queen  hn 
mother.* 

About  ihe  same  period  Alexander  the  Fierce  of  Scotland,  Matilda^ 
brother,  condescended  to  wed  Isaliella,  the  youngest  illeeitimaie  Uaufhnr 
of  his  sister's  husband.  His  motives  for  contracting  this  alUanee  m 
tlilficult  to  imagine,  since  the  young  lady  wu  remarkable  for  ^i«  pWi* 
ness  of  her  person  and  ilie  impropriety  of  her  contluct' 

The  fact  that  Henry's  numerous  illegitimate  children  were  many  of 
them  adults  at  (lib  period,  proves  that  they  were  bom  in  his  youth,  and 
at  all  evetils  before  his  marriage  with  Matilda  of  Scotland. 

In  the  year  1109,  the  mi^ly  Norman  chief  Fitz-Haynuin,  lurd  of 
Glamorgan,  dying  without  sons,  left  the  lady  Aimabel,  his  young  luana, 
to  the  guardianship  of  l]ie  king.  Henry,  wishing  to  secure  eo  rich  % 
prize  for  his  eldest  natural  son  Robert,  proposed  him  to  his  fair  ward, 
>s  a  suitable  huabaDd  for  her.  But  the  haughty  Norman  damsel,  thnofh 
only  sixteeo,  intrepidly  replied,  "■  That  the  ladies  of  her  bouse  were  iiM 
Bccuiiiomeil  to  wed  nameless  persons." 

Then  the  king  answered,  "Neither  shall  thou,  damsel;  for  1  wiD 
pre  my  son  a  fair  name,  by  which  he  and  his  sons  shall  be  called. 
Robert  Fitzroy  shall  be  his  name  hencerorlh." 

"BuU"  objected  the  prudent  heiress  of  Glamorgan,  "a  name  so  given 
14  nodiing.  Where  are  the  lands,  and  what  the  lordship,  of  Uie  aaa 
voD  will  me  to  wed,  sire  ?" 

'  Saxoa  Aiumlr.        'U.  Paris.    Houtiogdon.        *M.  Paris. 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND.  109 

^  Truly,**  responded  the  king,  with  a  smile^  ^  thy  question  is  a  shrewd 
one,  damsel :  1  will  endow  my  son  Robert  with  the  lauds  and  honours 
of  Gloucester,  and  by  that  title  shall  he  henceforth  he  called." 

The  lady  Aimabel  made  no  further  demur,  we  are  told,  but  wedded 
the  king's  son  without  delsry.  The  fact  was,  the  king  was  generously 
bestowing  upon  his  son  Robert  the  lands  imd  honours  which  had  been 
granted  or  sold  to  Fits-Haymon,  hef  deceased  father,  by  William  Rnfus, 
once  the  patrimony  of  the  luckless  Brihtric  Meaw,'  and  the  young  lady, 
who  seems  to  have  been  gifted  with  no  ordinary  share  of  worldly  wis- 
dom, thought,  no  donbt,  that  she  had  better  hold  the  lands  and  honours 
of  Gloucester  on  the  tenure  of  wife-service  to  the  king's  son,  than  lose 
them  altogether.  Such  were  the  dealings  of  the  Anglo-Norman  sots* 
reigns  wiUi  their  wards.  The  high-spirited  heiress  of  Fitz-Haymon 
was,  however,  fortunate  in  the  marriage  that  was  thus  arranged  for  her 
by  her  ro3ral  guardian.  Robert  Fitzroy  was  the  princely  ean  of  Glou- 
cester who  so  valiantly  upheld  the  title  of  his  half-sister,  the  empress 
Matilda,  to  the  English  crown,  in  the  succeeding  reign. 

The  following  year,  an  enormous  tax,  of  mree  shillings  on  every 
hide  of  land,  was  levied,  to  pay  the  portion  of  the  princess  Matilda,  by 
which  the  sum  of  824,0002.  was  raised ;  and  the  princess  was  sent  over 
to  her  imperial  husband  with  a  magnificent  retinue :  she  was  espoused 
to  him  in  the  cathedral  of  Mentz,'  and  solemnly  crowned  by  the  arch- 
bishop of  Cologne. 

Queen  Blatilda  was  in  the  next  year  left  to  keep  court  alone,  in  con- 
sequence of  a  formidable  insurrection  in  Normandy,  in  fiivour  of  Wil- 
liam Clito,  son  of  the  unfortunate  Robert  Ck>urthose,  which  was  pri- 
vately fomented  by  the  earl  of  Flanders.  King  Henry,  perceiving  that 
all  classes  of  his  continental  subjects  were  averse  to  the  yoke  of  an 
absent  sovereiffn,  considered  it  expedient  to  forego  the  society  of  his 
queen  and  theur  children,  for  a  period  of  nearly  two  years,  while  he  held 
his  separate  state  in  Normandy. 

In  the  year  1 1 12,  we  find  the  king  and  queen*  were  together  at  Win- 
chester, with  their  court,  where  they  personally  assisted  at  the  removal 
of  the  bodies  of  Alfred  the  Great,  and  his  queen  Alswitha,  from  the 
ruinous  chapel  of  Newminster,  close  to  Winchester  Oathedral,  to  the 
magnificent  abbey  of  Hjrde,*  founded  and  endowed  by  Henry  and  Ma- 
tilda, as  a  more  suitable  shrine  for  the  relics  of  their  illustrious  progeni- 
tor^ — ^from  whom,  be  it  remembered,  Henry,  as  well  as  his  Saxon  queen, 
was  descended  in  the  eighth  generation,  through  the  marriage  of  Els- 
trith,  the  daughter  of  AUred,  with  an  eari  of  Flandeia,  his  maternal 
ancestor. 

Here,  too,  the  bones  of  Edward  the  Elder,  and  his  queen,  the  imme- 
diate ancestors  of  Matilda,  were  at  the  same  time  translated.* 

—  -  — — * 

'  See  the  preeedint  Biogmpby,  and  Domeadaf -book. 

'  Simeon  of  Durham.  '  Aroheolosia. 

*  Henry  VIIL  bmmlly  deteerated  the  place  where  reposed  tiie  remain*  of  these 
patriot  Borereignt.  Englishmen  of  the  eighteenth  centar^i  more  barbarous  still, 
converted  the  holy  fime  into  a  bridewell,  and  the  bones  of  AUred  were  by  felon 
hands  exhumed.  *  AxobKoVo^EA. 

TOL.  I.  —  JO 


I 

I 

I 

I 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND. 

Tlie  following  yrar  Henry  was  again  in  Nonnnndy,  where  he  eiilvrrd 
into  an  bmicabie  Ucaiy  wiih  one  of  his  most  troublesome  eneniiee,  Fulk 
earl  of  Anjnu,  by  a  mBtrimoRial  alliance  between  his  heir,  prince  Wil- 
liam, and  AlicCf  the  daughter  of  that  earl. 

The  educaiioa  of  Matilda's  eldest  daughter  being  considered  as  roat- 
pleicd  in  IIU,  the  marriage  was  fully  solemnized  between  her  and  tlia 
emperor  Henry  V^  and  ihey  were  both  crowned  a  second  time,  wilb 
great  pomp,  in  the  cathedral  at  Meniz.  The  young  empress  was  liieo 
only  in  her  twelfth  year.  Notwithstanding  this  great  disparity  in  sgc^ 
it  appears  that  the  youthful  bride  enjoyed  a  reaiionable  share  of  happi- 
ness with  her  mature  consort,  by  whom  she  was  treated  with  the 
greatest  indulgence,  while  her  great  beauty  and  majestic  carriage  won 
ihe  hearts  of  the  German  princes,  and  obtained  for  her  unboanded  popn- 
lariiy. 

Matilda^B  eldest  son,  prince  William,  (or  the  Alheling,  as  he  was  moN 
generally  styled  by  the  Rnglish,^  was,  in  tlie  year  1113,  conducted  by 
tiie  king  hie  father  with  great  pomp  into  Normandy,  where  he  was  pie- 
aented  to  the  stales  as  the  heir  of  the  duehy,  and  fealty  was  sworn  to 
)ii:n  by  the  barons  and  fieemen.  This  prince  was  then  only  twelre 
years  old.  He  relumed  with  his  roj'al  father  to  England  in  July,  and 
the  following  year  Henry  summoned  that  memorable  parliament  men- 
tioned by  Uolinahed,  as  the  first  held  since  the  Normsn  conquest,  to 
meet  at  Sulisbur}',  and  there  appointed  the  young  prince  as  his  successtx. 
William  of  Halmsbury  says,  ^  Every  freeman  of  England  and  Normvt- 
dy,  of  whatsoever  degree,  or  to  whatsoever  lord  his  vassal  service  wM 
due,  was  made  to  perform  homage,  and  swear  fealty  to  William,  son  of 
king  Henry  and  queen  Maiihia."  The  Easter  festival  was  kepi  this  jm 
by  the  royal  &mily  at  Odiliam  Castle,  in  Hampshire. 

Matilda  passed  the  Christmas  festival  of  the  aame  year,  io  tlie  com- 
pany of  her  royal  husband,  at  the  abbey  of  St.  Alban's.'  They  were  tht 
giiesis  of  abbot  Richard,  who  had  then  brought  to  a  happy  conclunW 
ihe  building  of  lliat  magnificent  fabric.  He  invited  die  queen,  who  mu 
one  of  its  benefactresses,  the  king,  and  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  and 
many  prelates  and  nobles,  to  assist  at  the  consecmtion  of  the  tbbry, 
which  took  place  Christmas-day,  1115.  The  royal  pair,  with  their  soils 
of  nobles  and  ladies,  were  lodged  in  the  abbey,  and  entertained  from 
December  25th  to  January  6ih.  The  queen,  sanctioned  by  Ucfuy, 
gave,  by  charter,  two  manore  to  SL  Alban's.  The  eiisieiice  of  a  pM^ 
trah  of  queen  Matilda  is  certainly  owing  to  this  visit;  for  in  a  tidi 
illuminated  volume,  called  the  Golden  Book  of  Sl  Alban*s,  (now  to  ttw 
British  Museum,)  may  still  be  seen  a  miniatnre  of  the  royal  beocA^ 
tress.'    The  queen  is  attired  in  the  royal  mantle  of  scarlet,  lined  wttk 

'  Newcome'a  Hiatorj  of  Sl  Alban's,  pp.  52.  93. 

'Cotlonian  MSS.  Ncro  D.  T.  A  beBiiuAil  and  accuiaie  vopj  from  tha  otifSMi 
tins  Iwen  dmwn  by  M.  Eraroey  at  ibe  expense  of  Heoiy  Howard,  Esq.  Kf 
Corby,  the  detoendiial  or  MaiiUla,  anil  pivKnteil  by  luni  to  ibe  nuthon  or  ttni 
work.  Ii  oOTKGIs,  in  many  paniculan.  the  eiioii  of  an  enpitvinir  (iubli*lied  hf 
SlrulL  We  bava  llie  opporlunily,  in  this  second  ediiioo,  of  devribiug  Maltid*^ 
patlrail,  latm  an  eiaDiiualian  of  the  Golden  Book  itwif.    The  Golden  B    '    ' 


MATILDA    OF    BCOTLAHD.  Ill 

white  for;  it  eoreis  the  knees,  and  is  very  long.  The  mantle  is  square 
to  the  host  A  cordon  of  scarlet  and  gold,  with  a  large  tassel,  passes 
through  two  gold  knobs :  she  holds  the  cordon  in  her  left  hand.  She 
wears  a  tight  kirtle  of  dark  blue,  buttoned  down  the  front  with  gold. 
Her  sleeres  fit  close  to  the  arms,  and  are  scarlet  like  the  mantle.  A 
white  Teil  is  arranged  in  a  square  form  on  tlie  brow,  and  is  surmounted 
by  a  gold  crown,  formed  of  three  large  trefoils,  and  gold  oreillettes  ap- 
pear beneath  the  veil,  on  each  side  of  the  cheeks.  The  veil  flows 
behind  her  shoulders  with  lappets.  Matilda  is  very  fiur  in  complexion : 
the  has  a  long  throat,  and  elegant  form,  of  tall  proportions.  She  dis- 
plays with  her  right  hand  the  charter  she  gave  the  abbey,  from  which 
bangs  a  Tery  lai^  red  seal,  whereon,  without  doubt,  was  impressed  her 
effigy  in  grand  relief  She  sits  on  a  carved  stone  bench,  on  which  is  a 
scarlet  cushion  figured  with  gold  leaves.  This  cushion  is  in  the  form 
of  a  woolpack,  but  has  four  tassels  of  gold  and  scarlet.  A  piece  of 
figured  doih  is  hung  at  the  back  of  her  seat  There  are  no  armorial 
bearings  —  one  proof  of  the  authenticity  of  the  portrait  ^  Queen  Ma- 
tildis  gave  us  Bculwick  and  Lillebum,''  is  the  notation  appended  by  the 
monks  of  St  Alban's  to  this  portrait 

About  this  period,  the  stately  new  palace  at  Woodstock  being  com- 

Ceted,  and  the  noble  park,  reckoned  the  finest  at  that  time  in  England, 
ivinff  been  walled  round,  Henry  stocked  it  with  a  curious  menagerie 
of  wild  beasts,  the  first  zoological  collection  ever  seen  in  this  country. 
It  is  described  in  very  quaint  terms  by  Stowe,  who  says,  ^  The  king 
craved  from  other  kii^  lions,  leopards,  lynxes,  and  camels,  and  other 
curious  beasts,  of  which  England  hath  none.  Among  others,  there  was 
a  strange  animal  called  a  stryx,  or  porcupine,  sent  him  by  William  of 
Montpelier;  which  beast,"  says  the  worthy  chronicler,  ^^is,  among  the 
Africans,  counted  as  a  kind  of  hedgehog,  covered  with  pricking  bristles, 
which  they  shoot  out  naturally  on  the  dogs  that  pursue  them." 

Unbounded  hospitality  was  one  of  the  social  virtues  of  this  peaceful 

St.  AIbaD*s  ii  a  lort  of  conventual  album,  in  which  were  entered  the  portraits  of 
all  the  beneftctort  of  the  abbey,  together  with  an  abstract  of  their  donations. 
FiTe  different  artists,  of  various  degrees  of  ment,  may  be  traced  in  this  collec- 
tion. Some  of  the  miniatures  are  exquisitely  designed  and  coloured,  others  aro 
barbaioos  and  puerile  in  their  execution ;  some  <if  the  portiaits  are  represented 
holding  well-filled  purses,  others  displaying  tho  charters,  with  large  pendent 
seals,  which  secured  broad  lands  to  church  and  poor.  It  is  true,  that  Matilda's 
portrait  was  not  entered  till  the  fourteenth  century,  when  the  book  was  first 
commenced ;  bat  the  style  of  dress,  together  with  the  form  of  the  throne  on 
whieh  the  queen  is  seated,  prove  that  the  original  design  was  drawn  in  the 
queen^s  own  day ;  for  the  artists  of  the  middle  ages  drew  only  what  they  saw  ; 
and  had  die  limner  been  inclined  to  give  a  supposititious  portrait  of  queen  Ma- 
tilda, he  would  have  designed  her  figure  clad  in  the  costimie  of  Edward  the 
Third's  era,  and  seated  in  the  high-backed  Gothic  chair  of  state  on  which  royal 
persons  were  enthroned  since  the  days  of  Edward  the  First,  as  may  be  seen  by 
reference  to  any  collection  of  engravings  from  regal  seals ;  instead  of  which, 
Matilda  is  seen  seated  on  the  primitive  stone  bench  of  Anglo-Saxon  royalty, 
represented  oa  the  seals  of  the  Aogto-Norman  and  early  Plantagenet  mo- 
Bar:ba. 


r„  ...„...,....,..., 
nign,'  especiallT  at  this  pecniinr  era,  «-heii  llie  benignant  example  of  the 
rooil  queen  hail,  for  a  perioil  of  ncsrly  seventeen  years,  pruduceil  lite 
hnppicst  eftxt  in  sojlening  the  manners  of  the  haughty  aitd  powerfiil 
Korman  femilies,  who  were  ai  that  lime  the  magnaies  of  ihe  lanJ. 
The  Noriuan  tiunilte:),  at  this  perii>il,  were  beginning  to  practise  same 
of  the  poaceful  pursuits  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  anJ  la^iea  of  high  rank 
considereil  it  no  infringement  on  the  dignity  of  their  station  to  attend  to 
tlie  prolilnbte  concerns  of  the  poultry-yard  and  the  dairy.  The  counien 
Constance  of  Chester,  though  the  wil«  of  Hugh  Lupus,  the  king's  fini 
eousin,  kept  a  lieni  of  kine,  and  nmle  good  Cheshire  cheeses,  three  of 
which  the  presented  to  the  archbishop  of  Canierbttiy.  Giialdua  Csia- 
bricnsis  bears  honourable  testimony  to  the  exceUence  of  the  produce  of 
the  cheese-shire  in  that  day. 

A  fresh  revolt  in  Normantly'  deprived  Matilda  of  the  society  of  her 
husband  and  son  in  1 1 17.  The  king,  according  to  Eadmer,  relumed  and 
Bpent  Christmas  with  her.  as  she  was  at  that  time  in  a  declining  state  of 
health;*  lesring  prince  William  with  his  Norman  baronage,  as  a  ptedp 
for  his  return.*  His  sojourn  was,  of  necessity,  very  brief.  He  waa  coot* 
pelted,  by  the  distracted  state  of  affiiirs  in  Normandy,  to  rejoiii  his  anqr 
^M       there,  and  Slaiilda  never  saw  either  her  husband  or  her  sou  again. 


Resigned  and  perfect  in  all  the  duties  of  her  high  calling,  the  dyioi 
I  in  her  palace  at  Westminster, 


I 

i 

I 


queen  remained,  during  this  trying 

lonely,  though  surrounded  with  all  the  splendour  of  royidiy  ;  endnriag 
with  complacency  and  patience  the  sepaiaiiun  from  her  beloved  consort 
tiid  children, and  alTurding,  lo  thclaai  hour  of  her  life,  a  beautiful  exantpls 
of  piety  and  self-denial. 

She  expired  on  the  1st  of  May,  1 11 S,*  passionately  lamented  by  eniy 
class  of  the  people,  to  whom  her  virtues  and  wisdom  had  reodcfcd  bcr 
inexpressibly  dear. 

Accorling  to  the  most  ancient  chroniclers,  the  king  her  hosbaud  ms 
much  afflicted  when  the  intelligence  of  Matilda's  deatli  reiwhed  hint, 
amidst  the  turmoil  of  battle  and  siege  in  Nonnandy.' 

Piers  of  Langtoft  alludes  lo  llie  grief  fell  by  the  royal  wiilower,  bIiIm 
loss  of  his  amiable  consort,  in  terms  of  lite  most  homely  Eimplicitjr  >- 

•'  Now  is  die  king  torrj,  bor  dealh  iloth  liim  gram''  (Buevc), 

Hardinge's  rhyming  chronicle  produces  tiie  following  quaint  stsniat 
on  the  death  (rf  Matilda,  and  the  sorrow  of  king  Henry  for  her  Icm  :— 

'Th«  frillowing  Terwa  tiora  ui  Biiciein  MS„  qumod  by  Collins,  aliiird  an  iH» 
inlinK  wilneu  of  ttuB  Jant.  Tbrj  were  iuKriliea  by  iiir  Willjim  Fits-WtllMa 
cha  lurd  of  SpnHborongb,  on  an  ancieui  croii  which  wu  damoliahed  H  As 
EteCMtiiBCioni — 

"  Who«)  is  bm^^iy,  and  Vitta  well  to  eni. 
If  I  bin  come  U>  Sprotboioogh  lo  bin  meal. 
And  fot  a  ni^bt  and  a  day 
Ilu  horte  ihall  tuive  bolU  corn  and  hsjr. 
And  DO  ODB  iball  aak  bim;  ■  wbea  he  goetli  away  t*  " 
Oldviicui  VitalU.  ■  Saion  Annals. 

Eadmei,  |).  I  IB;  te«  Rspin,  toM  IN.  •William  of  HalmatMHyi 

itaioo  Anoal*.  >Ki>bert  GlouceMeb 


MATILDA    OF    9C0TLARD.  IIS 

*The  yenr  of  Christ  a  thousand  was  full  clear, 
One  hondred  eke  and  therevrithal  eighteen, 
Whea  good  queen  Maude  was  dead  and  laid  on  bieri 
At  Westmiiiater  buryed,  as  well  was  seen; 
For  heaviness  of  which,  the  king  I  ween, 
To  Normandy  then  went  with  his  son, 
The  doke  William,  and  there  with  him  did  won.** 

•e  is,  however,  mistaken  in  supposing  that  Henry  was  with  his 
msort  at  the  time  of  her  decease. 

ne  chronicler  gives  us  another  stanza  on  the  death  of  Henry, 
ie,  in  yet  more  positive  terms,  speaks  of  the  conjugal  afiection 
ted  the  Norman  sovereign  to  his  Saxon  queen : 

**  Of  Christens  date  was  there  a  thousand  year, 
One  hundred  also,  and  nine  and  thirty  mo, 
Buryed  at  Redynge,  as  well  it  doth  appear, 
In  the  abbyo  which  there  he  founded  so, 
Of  monkes  black,  whenever  they  ride  or  go. 
That  pray  for  him  and  queen  Jiibude  his  wife, 
Who  either  other  loved  withouten  strife." 

r  chronicler  says,  ^Nothing  happened  to  trouble  the  king, 
eath  of  his  queen  Matilda,  the  very  mirror  of  piety,  humility, 
»ly  bounty."  • 

me  causes  that  had  withheld  the  king  from  attending  Matilda 
xig  illness  prevented  him  from  honouring  her  obsequies  witli 
nee.  Matilda  was  buried  on  St  Philip's  day  in  Westminster 
I  the  right  side  of  her  royal  uncle,  Edward  the  Confessor.* 
yutes,  however,  have  existed  as  to  the  place  of  her  interment,' 
I  been  contested  with  almost  as  much  zeal  as  was  displayed  by 
cities  of  Greece,  in  claiming  the  honour  of  having  given  birth 
'.  The  monks  of  Reading  averred  that  their  royal  patroness 
d  in  her  own  stately  abbey  there,  where  her  illustrious  consort 
irards  interred.  The  rhyming  chroniclers  insist  that  she  was 
Su  PauPs  cathedra],  and  that  her  epitaph  was  placed  in  West- 
bbey.    These  are  the  words  of  Piers  of  Langtoft : — 

**  At  London,  in  St,  Paul's,  in  tomb  she  is  laid, 
Christ,  then,  of  her  soul  have  mercie. 
If  any  one  will  toUten  (know)  of  her  storie, 
At  Westminster  it  is  written  readily.^* 

>  saVi  so  that  it  may  be  plainly  read. 

I  declares  that  she  was  buried  at  Winchester,  but  that  tablets  to 

ory  were  set  up  in  many  churches^ — an  honour,  which  she 

ith  queen  Elizabeth. 

ollowing  passage  from  the  learned  and    fiiithful  antiquary, 

^pressly  indicates  that  it  was  his  opinion  that  the  mortal 

of  Matilda,  ^  the  Good  Qjueen,^  repose  near  the  relics  of  her 

:Ie,  Edward  the  Confessor,  in  the  solemn  temple  founded  by 

*e  of  Worcester.  *  Pennant's  London.    Robert  of  Gloucester* 

ing  to  8lowe,  her  grave  was  in  the  vettry  of  the  abbey. 

0*  H 


I 


I 


'  'I'M  MATILDA     OF      SCOTLAND, 

tnat  lost  Saxon  mooarch,  and  vt-htch  had  been  cnmpleletl  under  Iter  rtrt- 
fill  superiniendence,  "Here  lielh  in  Weaiminster  nbber,  wiilioul  wy 
lomb,  Matilda  or  Maad.  daughter  of  Malcolm  Canmore,  king  of  Srav. 
auil  wife  of  Henry  I.  of  En^and,  who  brought  to  him  children,  Wiliiutu 
Itirhard,  and  Mary,  who  perished  by  shipwreck,  and  likewise  Mawt, 
who  WHS  wife  to  Henry,  Uie  lifUi  emperor.  She  died  the  firvi  day  of 
May.  1 1 18."  '  She  had  an  pxcelienl  epigram  made  to  her  coauDeadi 
lion,  whereof  these  fonr  verves  only  remain  : 

"  Proipera  non  Inetnm  feoeic,  noo  aspcra  iriMem, 

Non  d«ror  effltil  ttnfiieio,  non  tceptnt  eu]>eibsm, 
Sol«  poien*  humilii.  sola  pudica  dfcen«." 

Benry  of  Huntingdon,  the  chronicler,  no  mean  poet,  was  the  aQlW 
of  these  Latin  lines.  From  the  numerous  transhlions  exlsnl  of  lUi 
beautiful  epitaph,  we  select  the  following  exquisite  lines,  which  ease 
Teiy  close  to  the  original,  and  aflbrd  a  lovely  portrait  of  the  fenunJM 
graces  of  this  admirable  queen. 

"SueceM  ne'er  sal  Mnlting  in  (ler  eye, 
Nor  diuppoimnWDi  caused  iho  irc<|ueiil  ligb  ; 
Beauty  not  raade  her  vain,  nor  icapicB  ptouil, 
Nor  litlci  taughi  lo  worn  ihe  mcBnec  crowd  ; 
Supreme  hurailiiy  was  awful  giBoe, 
And  ber  ben  chnrm  a  basliruliieBi  of  Tace." 

Matilda  died  in  the  eighteenth  ycsr  of  her  marriage,  and  about  dit 
forty-first  of  ber  age.  Her  favourite  residence  was  tlie  royal  pdare  o( 
the  Saxon  kings  at  Westminster,  where,  with  occasional  visits  to  N(w 
Windsor,  Winchester,  and  Woodslork.  and  other  places  in  which  ikt 
king  her  busbaml  thought  proper  lo  hold  his  couild,  ahe  paaaed  dw 
greater  portion  of  her  wedded  life. 

Many  curious  remains  still  exist  of  the  old  pafacc  in  WeaUniiutoi 
where  Matilda  kept  slate  as  queen,  and  ended  her  life.  This  vetietMi 
abode  of  our  early  sorereigns,  was  originally  huilt  by  Canute,  rniil.  btiaf 
devastated  by  fire,  was  rebuilt  by  Eklward  the  Confessor,  with  «uch  «■ 
during  solidity,  that  antiquaries  still  point  out  diflcrent  poriious,  whtrh 
were  indubitably  the  work  of  the  royal  Saxon,  and  thenfore  must  h»« 
formed  pert  of  the  residence  of  his  great  niece.  Part  of  the  old  palan 
of  Westminster  is  still  lo  be  seen,  in  the  buildings  near  Coilan-gardes. 
and  the  lancet-shaped  windows  about  Old  Palace  Yard  are  di^clarr^l  w 
apnerbiin  to  it.'  Coiton-garden  was  the  private  garden  of  the  uicteai 
{niaee,  and  therefore  belonged  especially  lo  queen  Matilda.  It  wiiiii) 
be  idle  to  dwell  on  Westminster  Hall  and  Westminster  Abbey,  tlioi^ 
the  original  sites  of  both  were  included  in  the  precincts  of  this  pdwt 
because  one  was  rebuilt  from  the  ground  by  Richard  H.,  anil  the  oAb 
by  Henry  III.  Great  devastation  was  made  in  the  royal  abode  of  ibt 
.4riE;lo-Saion  queen,  by  the  late  disasirnue  conflagration  of  t'  " 
of  Xiorda  and  its  adjacent  apartments,  which  all  belonged  to  it. 


■Weeiei'sFuneisl  Mod 


MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAHD.  115 

The  House  of  Lords  was  an  antique  oblong  room ;  it  was  the  hall 

uf  state  of  Matilda's  palace ;  it  was  called  the  white-hall,  but  without 

■ny  reference  to  the  Tast  palace  oi  Whitehall,  to  which  the  seat  of  Eng^ 

iish  Tojdlty  was  trensierred  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.    As  the  Painted 

Chamber,  still  entire,  is  well  known  to  have  been  the  bedchamber  of 

Edward  the  Confessor,  and  the  apartment  in  which  he  expired,*  there 

can  be  no  doubt  but  that  it  was  the  state  bedchamber  of  his  niece.     A 

curious  room  in  Cotton  House  was  the  private  oratory  of  the  Confessor, 

and  was  assuredly  used  by  Hatilda  for  the  same  purpose ;  while  at  the 

south  end  of  the  Court  of  Requests  are.  to  be  seen  two  mighty  Saxon 

arches,  the  lig-ng  work  of  which  indicates  that  its  architecture  is  the 

most  ancient  in  our  country.    This  was  once  a  deserted  state-chamber* 

of  the  royal  Saxon  palace ;  but  it  has  been  used  lately  by  the  House  of 

Commons. 

There  is  a  statue  of  Matilda  in  Rochester  cathedral,  which  forms  the 
pilaster  to  the  west  door;  that  o£  king  Henry,  her  husband,  forms 
another.  The  hair  of  the  queen  depends  over  either  shoulder,  in  two 
long  plaits,  below  the  knees.  Her  garments  are  long  and  flowing,  and 
she  holds  an  open  scroll  of  parchment  in  her  hand. 

King  Henry  proved  the  sincerity  of  his  regard  for  Matilda,  by  con- 
firming all  her  charters  afler  her  death.  Madox,  in  his  History  of  the 
Exchequer,  quotes  one  of  that  monarch's  charters,  reciting  ^  that  he  had 
confirmed  to  the  Priory  of  the  Holy  Trinity  in  London  the  grant  of  his 
queen  Matilda,  for  the  good  of  her  soul,  of  25/.,  on  the  farm  of  the  city 
of  Exeter,  and  commands  his  chief  justiciar  and  the  barons  of  his  ex- 
chequer to  constrain  the  sheriflf  (^  Devonshire  to  pay  the  same  to  the 
aid  canons."' 

Matilda's  household  was  chiefly  composed  of  Saxon  ladies,  if  we  may 
trust  the  evidence  (^  Christian  names.  The  maids  of  honour  were 
Emma,  Gunilda,  and  Christina,  pious  ladies,  and  full  of  alms-deeds,  like 
their  ro3ral  mistress.  After  the  death  of  the  queen,  these  ladies  retired 
to  the  hermitage  of  Kilbum,  near  London,  where  there  was  a  holy  well, 
or  medicinal  spring.  This  was  changed  into  a  priory*  in  1 128,  as  the 
deed  says,  ^for  the  reception  of  these  three  virgins  of  God,  sacreil 
damsels  who  had  bdonged  to  the  chamber  of  Matilda,  the  good  queen- 
coosort  to  Henry  1."* 

History  only  particularizes  two  surviving  children  of  Matilda  of  Scot- 

*  Howell. 

'The  appellatioii  of  Court  of  Requests  has  no  reference  to  modem  legal  pro- 
eeedinfs.  It  was  the  feudal  court  of  the  High  Steward  of  England.  It  is  naed 
Vf  the  House  of  Commons  since  the  destruction  of  St  Stephen's  Chapel,  while 
the  Lords  have  taken  possession  of  the  Painted  Chamber. 

'Charter  Antiq.  N.  n.  10. 

*On  its  sita  are  a  pubHo-honse  and  tea-gardens,  now  called  Kilbum  Wells. 

*  The  original  deed,  preserved  in  the  Cottonian  MSS.,  Claudius  A.  says  of  these 
maids  of  honooi^-^^  Tres  virgines  Deo  sacratas  domioellas,  videlioit,  oamere 
Matildis  bone  regine  Consortis  regis  Henrici  primL"  The  term  dumiedla  proves 
their  rank  was  noble,  as  this  term  will  be  seen  applied  even  to  the  daughters 
^4  emperors. 


I 


I 

r 


•J  16  KATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND. 

land  and  Henry  I.;  but  Gervase,  the  monk  of  Canterbury,  says  she  tiiiJ, 
besides  Williura  and  ihe  empress  Maiilda,  a  son  named  RiehsnI.  Ilerint 
Boeihius  mentions  a  daughter  of  hers,  named  Euphcmia-  The  Suon 
Clirnnicle  and  Itobert  of  Glouccsier  both  spe^  of  tier  second  Mt 
Richard.  Piers  of  Langiofi  lays,  "The  Inu  princes,  Iwr  sons,  wm 
both  in  Normandy  when  Matilda  died^"  anil  Hardinge  eaya  she  had  iva 
eons,  William  and  Richard. 

Prince  William  never  returned  to  England  after  ihe  death  of  his  nyil 
mother.  During  the  remainder  of  the  year  IMS,  he  was  6gbting  by 
his  iaiher's  side,  against  the  invading  force  of  the  king  of  >'mitce,  ud 
the  partisans  of  his  cousin  William  Clito.  On  one  occasion,  when  itw 
noble  war-horsG  and  its  rich  caparisons,  belonging  to  that  gallant  bM 
unfortunate  prince,  having  been  abandoned  during  a  hasty  retreat,  wen 
captured,  and  Henry  presented  this  prize  to  his  darling  heir,  the  ddUb 
youth  generously  sent  them  back,  with  a  courteous  message,  to  hi»  lind 
Lmsman  ajid  namesake.' 

His  royal  father,  king  Henry,  did  not  disdain  to  imitate  the  inagnaii- 
mous  conduct  of  his  youthful  son,  after  the  memorable  battle  in  wbidi 
the  standard  of  Trance  ^vas  taken:  when  the  favourite  charger  of  I»BiB 
le  Gros  fell  into  his  hands,  he  returned  it  to  ilie  Firach  monarch  the 

The  king  of  France,  as  murain  of  Normandy,  at  ihe  general  pacit- 
cation,  required  of  Henry  the  cusIomHry  homage  for  his  feof.  Tlui  iht 
vicioriouB  monarch  considered  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  a  kinj  of 
England  to  perform,  and  therefore  deputed  the  office  to  prince  Williaai, 
vrho  was  then  invested  with  the  duchy,  and  received  the  oath  of  ftalty 
from  the  stales.'  The  prince  solemnly  espoused  his  betrothed  liriot 
.Mice,  the  daughter  of  Fulk,  earl  of  Anjou,  June  1119.  King  llmry 
called  her  Matilda,  out  of  respect,  it  is  said,  for  the  memory  of  h» 
mother,  but  more  probably  I'rom  a  lender  regard  for  bis  deceased  con- 
sort. Matilda  of  Scotland,  the  love  of  his  youth,  and  the  mother  of  bit 
children.  The  marriage  was  celebrated  at  Lisieus,'  in  the  county  o( 
Burgundy )  and  the  prince  remained  in  Normandy  with  his  young  bride. 
attended  by  ail  the  youthful  nobility  of  England  and  the  dnchy,  passing 
the  time  gaily  with  feasts  and  pageants,  till  the  2Sth  of  November,  io 
the  year  1120;  when  king  Henry  (who  liad  been  nearly  two  yean 
absent  from  his  kingdom)  conducted  prince  William,  with  liia  retinne,!') 
Barflcur,'  for  the  purpose  of  embarking  for  England.  The  king  and  ha 
(rain  set  sail  the  same  night,  leaving  the  prince  to  follow  in  another  *hip. 

Fiiz-Stephen,  the  captain  of  the  Blanche  JV>/"(the  finest  veswl  in  tb« 
Norman  navy)  demanded  the  honour  of  conveying  the  heir  of  Engbad 
home;  because  his  father  had  commanded  the  Mora,  the  ship  viluA 
brought  William  the  Conqueror  to  the  sliores  of  England,  lixa  pelilioa 
was  granted;  and  the  prince,  with  his  gay  and  splendid  company,  entand 
Ihe  laial  bark  with  light  hearts,  and  commenced  their  voyage  with  minb 
and  minstrelay.    The  prince  incautiously  ordered  three  casks  of  wine  ix 


Holmtlied. 
SaiOQ  Amials. 


■Ordericui  Tinilis.    TytielL 


XATII.DA    OP    SCOTLAND.  II' 

k  given  to  iKe  sliip's  crew;  nnd  the  Bailora  were,  in  consequence,  fi* 
~  it  pari,  intoxtcaleil,  wlien  they  soileil,  about  ilie  close  of  dav. 
e  Wiliiaiii.  who  waa  desirous  of  overtaking  the  rest  of  (he'fleet) 
1  Pitz-Stephen  In  crowd  his  sails,  and  put  out  hta  sweeps.  Filz> 
a.,  hkviDg  named  the  white  ship  as  the  swiftest  vessel  in  the  world, 
alee  ;^od  his  bottst,  and  oblige  his  royal  passenger,  caused  his  niea 
Bsireich  wiih  all  their  might  to  the  oars,  and  did  everything  to  accele- 
T  the  speed  of  Ub  light  bark.  While  the  Blanche  AV/  was  rushing 
Joa^  the  water  with  the  most  dangerous  velocity,  she  suddenly  struck 
■  k  rock  called  the  Calle-raze  with  such  impetuosity,  that  she  started 
nral  planks,  and  began  to  sink.  All  was  instant  horror,  and  confu- 
MOO.  The  boat  was,  however,  let  down;  and  the  young  heir  of  Eng< 
land,  whh  several  of  his  youtliful  companions,  got  into  it,  and  having 
cteoreil  (he  ship,  might  have  reached  the  Norman  shore  in  safety ;  but 
(be  cries  of  his  illegitimaie  sister,  Matilda  countess  of  Perche,  who  di»- 
tiBttly  e«lled  on  him,  by  name,  for  succour,  occasioning  a  tender  impulse 
if  coBpuaion,  he  commanded  the  boat  back,  to  take  her  in.  Unfortu- 
oalriy,  the  moment  it  neared  the  ship,  such  numbers  spmng  into  it,  that 
it  (BalaDiiy  tank  with  its  precious  freight,  and  all  on  board  perished  \  and 
af  iIm  thrae  hundred  persons  who  embarked  in  the  white  ship,  but  one 
•ool  neaped  to  tell  the  dismal  tale.  This  person  was  a  poor  butcher  of 
BOHCfii  naitipd  Bcrthould,  who  climbed  lo  the  lop  of  the  niasl,  aticl  nu 
■ke  aext  morning  rescued  by  some  lishermen.  Fitz-Stephen,  the  master 
tf  dw  luckless  while  ship,  was  a  strong  mariner,  and  stoutly  supported 
Umelf  (or  some  hours  in  the  water,  till  he  saw  Berihould  on  the  mast, 
ml  calling  to  him,  asked  if  the  boat  with  the  heir  of  England  had 
■Mfad;  bm  when  the  butcher,  who  had  witnessed  the  whole  cataslro- 
■Iwt  IHOmI,  "  that  all  were  drowned  and  dead,"  the  strong  man's  force 
mW  nm ;  he  ceased  to  battle  with  the  waves,  and  sank  to  rise  no 
■orb' 

Tbo  nporl  of  this  disaster  reached  England  the  next  day.  Theobald 
<f  Blois,  ihe  king's  nephew,  was  the  first  who  heard  it;  but  he  dared  ' 
Mtinfocm  his  ancle  of  the  calamity  which  had  rendered  his  house  deao*  , 
Bendes  the  heir-opparetit  of  England,  prince  William,  the  Saxoa 
lucler  say*,  there  was  another  son  of  Henry  and  Matilda,  named 
Kidiard,  and  also  Richard,  a  natural  son  of  the  king;  Matilda,  his  natn- 
■Idn^ter,  countess  of  Perche;  Richanl  earl  of  Chester,  his  cousin, 
(rilh  bia  briile,  the  young  lady  Lucy  of  filois,  daughter  of  Henry's 
tkiM  Adelo,  and  the  ilower  uf  the  juvenile  nobility,  who  are  mentioned 
if  the  &ixoa  chroniclfr  as  a  multiiude  of  "  incomparable  folk." 

Kii^  H«iuy  had  reached  England  with  his  fleet  in  safety,  and  for  three 
4m  WW  penniited  to  remain  in  a  stale  of  the  most  agonizing  suspense 
tsal  nsmrteinty  respecting  the  fate  of  his  children.  No  one  choosing 
i<»  iMMme  the' bearer  of  such  evil  tidings,  at  length  Theobald  de  Blois, 
Ending  it  could  no  longer  be  concealed,  instructed  a  favourite  little  pag* 
■.'■  riMiimaniCBie  the  moumfid  news  to  the  bereaved  father;  and  tbr 
Mid,  Rilenng  ilie  royal  presence  with  a  sorrowful  step,  knell  down  it 
'Tliiciij's  Anglo- Nocni  Mil. 


I 


I 

J 


^118  MATILDA    OF    SCOTLAND. 

Henrr'a  feel,  and  told  him  that  the  prince  and  all  on  board  the  wluu 
ahip  Were  lost.  The  ^real  Henry  was  so  lliumlera truck  with  lliis  Jwtd 
ful  news,  ihul  he  sia|;gered  and  »ank  upon  the  floor  iii  a  deep  swn»n,  in 
which  Elate  he  remained  fur  many  hours.  When  he  recovered,  he  brokt 
iiUii  ilie  bitterest  lameniations,  magnilying  at  the  sanie  time  the  gm( 
qualities  of  hia  heir  and  the  loss  he  ha<j  suHi&ined  ;  Mid  ilie  ehroniclm 
all  agree  that  he  was  never  again  seen  to  smile. 

It  in  Henry  of  Huntingdon  who  exults  so  uncharitably  ot'er  the  Catat- 
irophe  of  the  white  ship,  in  the  following  buret  of  poetic  eloquenn:— 

*^  The  proud  youth  ;  he  thought  of  his  future  reign,  when  lio  said  ba 
would  yoke  the  Saxons  tike  oxen.  But  God  said, '  It  shall  not  be,  di« 
impious  one,  it  shall  not  be :'  and  so  it  has  come  to  pass ;  that  broir 
has  worn  no  crown  of  gold,  bui  has  been  dashed  against  the  rnekt  of 
the  ocean.  It  was  Gi^  hiinseir  who  would  not  that  tlie  aoii  of  tk* 
Norman  should  again  see  England." 

Brompton  also  speaks  unfavourahly  of  this  unfortunate  yonog  ptiiM«i 
but  it  should  be  rentembered  thai  England  was  a  divided  nation  at  thu 
period,  and  that  the  Saxon  chroniclers  wrote  in  the  very  gall  of  iHtlai^ 
nest  against  tlioae  whom  the  Norm^  historians  commended.  Iraf^ieit 
credence  is  not  to  be  giren  to  the  assertions  of  either.  It  is  only  by 
reading  both,  and  carefully  wcigliing  and  collating  facts,  that  the  irulb  a 
lo  be  elicited. 

In  the  laat  act  of  his  life,  William  Alheting  manifested  s  spirit  so 
noble,  «o  tenderly  compassionate,  and  forgetful  of  selfish  considorationi, 
that  we  can  only  say  it  was  worthy  of  the  aon  of  Matilda,  the  good 

The  yonng  wife  of  prince  William  was  left  a  widow  at  the  earif  iga 
of  twelve  years.  She  was  not  among  the  devoted  company  who  atilcd 
in  the  white  ship.'  Henry  1.  was  much  attached  to  her,  bnt  alM  If 
turned  lo  her  father,  ihe  earl  of  Anjou,  and  remaining  constant  to  tbi 
memory  of  her  princely  consort,  she  was  veiled  a  nun  at  FonteTnod. 
The  body  of  prince  William  was  never  found. 

^ueen  Matilda's  only  surviving  child,  the  empress  Mntild»,  thw 
became  king  Henry's  heiress  presumptive.  She  was  the  first  feinale  who 
rlaimed  the  royal  office  in  England.  The  events  of  her  life  are  to 
eloaety  inierwoven  with  those  of  the  two  snccee<ling  que«na,  Ad<tiM, 
Mid  Matilda  of  Boulogne,  her  contemporaries,  that  to  avoid  Uie  wdioB 
of  TPpeiition,  and  also  to  preserve  the  chronological  stream  of  faiAcry 
in  unbroken  unity,  which  is  an  important  object,  we  must  refer  aw 
readers  to  the  lives  and  Times  of  those  queens,  for  the  personal  bmUiJ 
of  this  princess,  from  whom  her  present  majesty  queen  Victoria  dad 
her  title  to  llie  crown  of  Englamt. 

'  She  wu  with  kitig  Heoiy  in  his  >hip. 


^ 


ADELICIA  OF  LOUVAINE, 

8URNAMED  THE    FAIR    MAID    OF  BBABANTi 
SECOND  QUEEN  OF  HENRT  1. 


A^Ueia'a  Ixnutr — Iinp«riKl  descent  fVoni  Chnrlemasne — flumlard  cmbroiilfred 
liy  AdBlteia — Pinrivod  at  Lkj[^~Atl*Iici«  foaglit  in  ntarriag«  \tj  Honiy  Ir— 
tirhlf  doWMwl — EdilMrki  (tii  England  with  Hency — King  snd  quean  paiiab- 
tooer*  or  arehbUhop  of  Caowrbuiy —  Violeace  of  itrchbishop — He  urowu  Addi- 
I'm  V.uiOfita  on  hei  beauty — Her  prudenco — Encouragrmeat  or  lilenluiA— 
Emimw  Macilila  —  Adelloia  cHltllega — Empress  MndMa  kepi  in  Adclkia't 
vtembii — Ditfimill  polUion  of  ih«  quwn — Friendship  wilh  hM  Jtcp^Bughter — 
Savsnil  inBiriB|[e  of  [he  einpreii — Adelicia'i  conhi^l  vinuFi — Matilda  reiuiM 
tn  Enftanil — Remnint  with  tlie  queen — Binh  or  prince  Henry — Dealli  of  kln| 
Hmty — Ailelioia's  leipect  Tde  bit  mtrnorjr — Her  iroubsdour  write*  king  Heary't 
nrr— Her  leooiul  mBrria«B— WiUiain  Albini— Her  dowry— PalacB—ReceivM 
rQi|ire«  Matilda — Meunge  to  king  Stephen — Cjojugal  happinesi  of  Adrlii'ia — 
Har  cliilJieu — CbariMble  rouHdaliDii)  at  Aruiulel — Hei  youngci  bmiliBr  abbot 
nf  AlBighain — Adelteia  ri>Iire«  lo  Afllighaiil  nutinery,  in  Flanden — Dies  Ihera 

-^Re^vril  i^r  hdr  dauh — Buried — titr  iasiu  hj  Albini — Adtlicia  aiie»>tiir  Af 

^w-o  of  our  itDeena. 

Tb19  prince**,  to  whom  eontcnipomry  chroniclers  have  given  ihe  name 
■!  '•  lh«  6iif  maid  of  Bmbant,"  is  one  of  the  moet  obscure  characierB  IQ 
K'  jlliKtricius  catalogue  of  Engliali  queens.  Tradiiion,  and  her  hand- 
.. Ill]  Portry,  hare,  however,  spoken  bright  things  of  her;  and  the  sur- 
MViK  hiaturical  records  of  her  life,  though  brief,  are  alt  of  a  nature 
1'  :tijing  til  coafirm  (he  good  report  which  the  vcrsca  of  the  rrovonfals 
hsTe  prMcrred  of  her  Tirtnes  and  accomplishments. 

DMC«nded,  through  both  her  parenis,  from  (lie  imperial  Carlovingian 
line,'  Adelida  boasted  tlie  moat  itluatrious  blood  in  Chrisleudom.  She 
wu  ihe  dtiest  daughter  of  Godfrey  of  Louv&ine,  duka  of  Brabant  adiI 
Lotfaeir  (or  Lower  Lorraine),  and  Ida,  countess  of  Namur.*  Her  fiilher, 
as  ihe  gnat-grandson  of  Charles,  brother  to  Lolliaire  of  Prance,  was  ib6 
bwAil  repmeniaiive  of  Charlemagne.  The  male  posterity  of  the  unfur- 
noateCharlea  having  b««n  cut  off  by  Huf^h  Capet,  the  righu  of  his  house 
h«euiM)  rested  in  the  descendants  of  his  eldest  daughter,  Gerbergs.' 
l>nheTt.  the  ion  of  Gerberga,  by  her  marriage  wilh  Koherl  of  Louvaine, 
WM  the  falbrr  of  Godfrey.  Crmengarde,  the  second  daughter  of  Cliarlea, 
UMiried  .VIberL,  the  third  count  of  Namur^  and  their  sole  daughter  and 
hriim,  Ida,  (the  motlier  of  Adelicia,)  became  the  wife  of  her  cousin, 
Go(trn>jr  of  Louvtine,  Humsnied  Batbatus,  or  the  Bearded,  because  be 
hftd  nude  a  row  never  to  shave  his  beard  till  he  had  recorered  Lower 

il  Herooriala. 

•bdiafli'*  G«ieala«ieB]  Tables. 

Menwrisl*  of  the  Uowatd  Family. 


I 
I 


I 


I 


ADBLICIA    OF    LOCTAINE- 

,  the  potrintony  of  hia  aneeslors.     In  llii*  he  sncceetlet]  in  l)i( 

ypar  1107,  after  which  lie  triumphanlly  displayed  a  emouih  ehiiuiB 
ioken  that  he  had  fultilletl  his  obligation,  and  finally  obiaiiied  fiam  hi* 
eul'jeria  and  conienippraries  the  more  honourable  appellatiou  of  Goddtr 
the  Great.'  The  dominions  of  this  prince  were  somewhat  more  esteiunt 
ihnn  the  modem  kingdom  of  Belgium,  and  were  governed  by  him  wiik 
the  greatest  wisdom  and  ability. 

From  this  ilhislrious  lineage  Adelicia  appears  to  have  inlieriied  lb* 
distinguished  beauty  and  fine  talents  for  which  the  Lorraine  btmocb  of 
Ihe  house  of  Cliarlemaene  has  ever  been  celebmied.     She  wm  iIm 
remarkable  for  her  proficiency  in  feminine  acqnirements.     A  aundwi 
which  she  embroidered  in  silk  and  gold  for  her  fiiiher,  during  the  ardtwM 
conusl  in  which  he  was  engaged  for  the  recovery  of  his  patrimonyf  m> 
eetebraled  throughotit  Europe  for  the  exquisite  taste  and  akill  di*)il^<ri 
by  the  royal  Adelicia  in  the  design  and  execution  of  her  patriotic  achine- 
menu'  This  standard  was  nnforiunately  capliired  at  a  baiiie  near  the  mdf 
of  Duras,  in  the  year  1 129,  by  the  bishop  of  Liege  and  the  earl  rif  Lim- 
bonrg,  ihe  old  competitor  of  Godfrey  for  Lower  Lorraine,  placed  by  ihan, 
as  a  memorial  of  their  triimiph,  in  the  great  church  of  Si.  Ivmitxn.  <i 
Liege,  and  was  for  centnries  carried  in  procession,  on  T'.: 
through  the  streets  of  that  city.  The  church  of  St.  Lambert  ^^ 
during  the  French  Revolution ;  yet  the  learned  editor  «i' 
^lemorials  fondly  indulges  in  the  hope  that  this  inieresiiriL' 
royal  anceslress^s  feminine  skill  and  patriotic  feelings  may  be  »tiM  iii  ct- 
istence,  and  destined,  perhaps,  hereafter  to  be  brought  to  light,  like  ihe 
long-forgotlen  Bayeus  tapestry.  The  pkin,  where  this  memoralile  inwbr 
was  taken,  is  still  called  the  Held  of  tlie  Standard.' 

The  lame  of  the  fair  maid  of  Brabanl's  charms  and  accoraplisluneais. 
It  is  said,  induced  the  conlidenlial  adviserB  of  Henry  L  of  EngUnd  la 
reeommend  iheir  sorrow-stricken  lord  lo  wed  her,  in  hopes  of  ditsipadag 
that  corroding  melancholy  which,  since  [he  loss  of  his  children  in  tlw 
fatal  while  ship,  had  become  constitutional  to  him.  The  temper  of  the 
monarch  had,  in  foct,  grown  so  irascible,  ihat  his  grealest  nobles  ftmml 
to  enter  his  presence,  and  it  is  said  thai,  in  his  causeless  tranepona  aS 
rage,  he  indulged  himself  in  the  use  of  the  most  unkingly  lenna  o(  ' 
peration  to  all  who  approached  him ;'  which  made  his  peers  ttia 
earnest  in  their  counsels  for  him  lo  lake  a  second  wife.  A  '  " 
1.ouvaine  was  the  object  of  his  choice-  Ilenry'^s  ostensible 
ronlracting  Uiis  marriage  was  the  hope  of  male  posterity,  to  inherit 
tiniled  realms  of  England  and  Normandy.  He  had  been  a  widower  iwo 
vears,  when  he  entered  into  a  treaty  with  Godfrey  of  Louvaine  {at  iha 
hand  of  his  beautiful  daughter. 

Robert  of  Gloucester,  when  recording  the  fscl  in  his  rhyming  dm^ 
mele,  says, 

"  Bo  knew  no  woman  tn  fair  ai  ibo 


'Bucknpi'i  Trcpliif*.     Hownrd  Mei 
*Hem>ar*  of  Ilia  Ilovatd  Fanjily. 
'BniMlmlinc. 


] 


ADBLICIA    Op    tot 


m 


TltF  name  of  this  princess  hna  been  variously  written  by  the  chroaiclera 
<if  En^laiitl.  Nfirmancly,  Germany,  and  Brabant,  as  Aiteliza,  Alicia,  Ade- 
Uide,  Alvyila  or  Atldbeile,  uhit-h  nieniis  must  noble.  In  the  Saxoa 
Chninirk  the  ia  called  £tbe1ice,  or  Alice. 

Mr.  Howard  of  Coiby  Cueile,  the  immediate  descendant  of  this  cjueeoi^i 
m  hia  "McmoriBla  of  ihe  UowanJ  Family,"'  calls  her  Adelicia  for  tit*  ' 
b«st  of  rcatons — iier  nune  is  so  written  in  an  original  charter  of 
3lM  ei  Henry  I.,  conlirming  her  grant  of  lands  for  the  foundation  ol 
ho«{4iBl  of  lepers  at  Fu^lestone,  near  Wilion,  dedicated  to  St.  Gili 
viucb  deed,  with  part  of  the  seal  appendant,  is  stUl  preaerved  in 
eononticrn  chtst  at  Wilton. 

Thft  Pioren^il  and  Walloon  poeta,  of  whom  this  queen 
ficrat  nimnese,  style  her  AlU  la  Brlle,  Adelnis,  and  Aliae,  varying 
KTllablea  according  to  the  etruciure  of  the  verses  which  they  compo 
in  her  bunuur — a  licence  alwuya  allowed  to  poetical  writers ;  ihcrefa 
the  rhymes  of  ihe  troubadours  ought  not  to  be  regarded  as  the  slight 
mnhoriiy  in  leliling  the  point.  Slodem  historians  generally  speak 
this  princess  by  her  Latinized  name  of  Adeliza,  but  her  learned 
Kduknt's  version  of  her  name  is  that  which  ought  to  be  adopted 
bcr  haugrepher. 

There  is  no  authentic  record  of  Ihe  dale  of  Adelicia^s  bltlh.  Mr. 
liowanl  aspposee  she  was  about  eightceD  years  old  at  the  perioU  of  her 
~  iniagT-  wiui  Henry  I.,  and  it  ia  certain  that  she  was  in  the  bloom  of 

*  beauty  at  the  lime  lie  sought  her  liand. 
*  Id  proportion  to  the  estimation  in  which  the  charms  of  Adelicia  were 
■W,  did  Henry  fir  het  dower,  which  was  so  muoiliceni  tliat  the  duke 
I  LouTiitie,  ber  father,  scrupled  not  to  consign  her  lo  her  allianced 
ilrscl  of  niarriage  was  signed, 
Thi«  ccrrniony  look  place  on  ihe  lOth  of  Aprd,  1 120,  hit  the  nuptials 
«  not  celebrated  till  some  months  after  this  period.     King  Henry,  in 
I,  cotiducted  his  betrothed  bride  lo  England,  in  ihe  i 
They  landed  about  Mirhaelmas,  and,  according  I 
royal  pair  were  married  at  Ely^  c^oon  after  their 
_  .!t  have  been  a  private  arrangement,  for  the  iiupiials  were  pul 
PBdy  aolcmnized  at  Windsor,  on  the  24th  of  January,  1121 ;'  having 
l>tai  delayed  in  consequence  of  a  singular  dispute  between  the  arch- 
of  Canlerbury  and  the  bishop  of  Salisbury,  which  eslnblislied  a 
Ut  loo  important  to  be  omilted  in  a  history,  embracing,  in  a  peculiar 
■ner,  lh«  habils  and  customs  of  royally. 
K~XagW  le  Poer,  the  bishop  of  Salisbury,  ihal  notable  preacher  of  short 
^■loiis,  claimed  ihe  right  to  marty  tlie  royal  pair,  because  iho  fortress 
»Wind»or  was  within  his  diocese.     This  right  was  disputed  by  ll« 
'  Vi  Ralph,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who  was  a  great  stickler  for  tl 
pVifalives  of  his  office;  and  an  ecclesiastical  council  was  culled, 

'tliron^  th»  miitVur  «r  his  grace  i)ie  diikc  of  Noifulli.  I  hnre  bvra  TiiTOur.^  , 
ii<h  ■  Hipj-  dT  llii*  inHilrnnbte  vuliinia,  wtiiuli,  at  it  i>  pnnleil  lor  privBM  uMfc.  1 
J  iHoeeniltl*  u>  ilie  piibliu,  but  it  inoM  iuiiXHUiikl  ■*  a  book  of  rr'  -  -  ■-  -'•^  ' 
~ '         ■!  and  Dubte  btograpliiu. 


',  in 


I 


list  4DBLICIA    OF    tOtrVAIXB. 

which  il  was  decided,  ihat  wherever  iho  king  and  queen  mtglit  be  wiiliia 
Uie  reidtn  of  England,  they  were  ihe  pariahiuners  of  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury.  Accordin|ily,  the  reremony  was  iriumphanily  perfurmR] 
by  ihe  venerable  primate,  thuiigh  bowed  down  by  bo  many  infirmiiuf. 
that  he  a[ipeared  like  one  loilering  on  ihe  verge  of  the  grave. 

This  nlTorded  Henry  an  excuse  for  deputing  the  honour  of  crowninf 
Jiitn  and  his  fair  young  bride  on  the  following  day,  at  WestmiaEter,  to 
his  favourite  prelate,  Roger  le  Poer,  the  bishop  of  Salitbary,  ^mtb 
namei),  lo  console  him  for  his  disappointment  with  regard  to  the  hyme- 
neal office.  But  the  archbishop  was  not  thua  to  be  put  olT.  The  lighl 
of  crowning  tlie  king  and  quei^n  lie  considered  a  still  inore  iniporttM 
branch  of  his  archiepiscopal  prerogatives  tlian  ihal  of  marryiug  Htm, 
and,  malgri  his  age  and  pamlysis,  lie  hastened  to  the  abbey,  woertlfaa 
ceremonial  had  commenced  at  an  unusually  early  hour.  Rog«r  1«  Pmt 
having,  according  lo  his  old  custom,  made  unprecedented  expetlidon  a 
the  performance  of  bis  office,  bad  already  placed  the  royal  diadem  « 
the  monarclfs  brow,  when  archbishop  Itnlpb  slendy  approached  lilt 
royal  chair,  and  asked  Henr}-,  "Who  had  put  the  crown  on  his  heail!"' 
The  king  evasively  replied,  "  If  tlie  ceremony  had  not  been  properiy 
perfonned,  it  could  be  done  again."  On  which,  aa  some  chtoniden 
asaerl,  the  choleric  old  primate  gave  the  king  such  a  aniart  blow  with 
his  crosier,  that  be  smote  the  crowa  from  his  head  \ '  bni  Eadmer  aay*, 
he  only  mised  it  up  by  the  strap  which  passed  under  the  chin,  and  lO 
turned  it  olf  his  bead.  He  then  proceeded  lo  replace  il  with  all  dM 
form,  and  afterwards  crowned  the  fair  young  queen.  Thia  moat  exk^ 
ordinary  coronation  took  place  on  Sunday,  January  30tli,  1111. 
The  beauty  of  the  royal  bride,  whom  Piers  of  LAiigcofi  calls 

"The  May  wilboulon  vice/' 

made  a  great  impression  on  the  minds  of  the  people,  which  the  sweet- 
of  her  manners,  her  pruderwe,  and  mild  virtues,  streuglheued  ta  no 
■tighl  degree,  li  was  on  the  occasion  of  her  bridal  corooatioa  that 
Henry  of  Huntingdon,  the  chronicler,  addressed  lo  Adelicia  tliose  ctl^ 
bnite<l  Latin  verses,  of  which  Camden  has  given  us  ihe  following  Lw^ 
blioD  >J 

"When  Adelim'i  name  shoulJ  grace  mf  song, 
A  aoilden  wondor  ttupi  the  tnii^  ■  loiigae) 
Your  orown  and  jpweli,  wlien  winpnreil  K)  jon. 
How  poor  your  crown,  bow  pale  your  jewels  ihowl 


1,  decores. 


'  Eadmer, 

'"Aiielarum  n^ina,  luos  Ail( 

Ipsa  referro  pacBiu  miisa  siiipore  tegiL 
Quid  diadema  nbi  pulchcrrima!     Quid  libi 
I%Uet  gemina  tibi,  dec  diBdema  nilcL 
De  me  libi  eullui.  culinm  nalura  raiiiialiat: 

■i  forma  beaia  potest, 
OrnamenlB  e»va,  npo  quici|UBni  lumini*  inde 
Accipit;  ills  miennt  lumliie 
Nan  puduil  modicu  de  ntngnis  dicete  laodea, 
An  pndeat  Dominum, 


A 


ADBLICIA    OF    LOUVAINX.  133 

T«k«  off  joar  robes,  your  rich  attire  remoTe; 
Such  pomps  may  load  you,  but  can  ne'er  improre; 
In  vain  your  costly  ornaments  are  worn, 
Ton  they  obscure,  while  others  they  adorn. 
Ah  I  what  new  lustres  can  these  trifles  give, 
Whieh  all  their  beauty  from  your  charms  reoeiret 
Tims  I  your  lofty  praise,  your  vast  renown, 
In  lowly  Terse  am  not  ashamed  to  have  shown, 
Oh,  be  you  not  ashamed  my  services  to  own !" 

*  wMoni  of  this  lovely  girl-qoeen  early  manifeflted  itself  in  the 
id  manner  by  which  she  endeavoured  to  conform  herself  to  the 
of  her  royal  lord,  in  the  encouragement  of  the  polished  arts,  and 
itTonage  o(  literature.  Henry's  love  for  animals  had  induced  him 
He  an  extensive  menagerie  at  Woodstock,  as  we  have  seen,  during 
'e  of  his  first  queen,  Matilda  of  Scotland,  who  was  probably  weU 
nted  with  natural  history.  The  youthful  Adelicia  evidently  knew 
\g  of  soology  previously  to  her  marriage  with  Henry  Beauclere; 
lie  a  good  wife,  in  order  to  adapt  herself  to  his  pursuits,  she  turned 
«ntton  to  that  study;  for  we  find  Philippe  de  Thuan  wrote  a  work 
(  nature  of  animals  for  her  special  instruction.  The  poetical  natu- 
did  not  forget  to  allude  to  the  personal  charms  of  his  royal 
MS  in  his  courtier-like  dedication. 

**  Philippe  de  Thuan,  en  ftanceise  raisnn. 
Ad  estrait  bestaire  im  livre  de  grammaire, 
Pout  lour  d'tme  feme  ki  mult  est  belle, 
Alix  est  nam^  reine  est  comn^ 
Reioe  est  d'Engleterre,  sa  ame  natt  ja  guaie.*' 

**  Philippe  de  Thuan,  in  plain  French, 
Has  written  an  elementary  book  of  animals, 
For  the  praise  and  instruction  of  a  good  and  beauteous  woman, 
Who  it  the  crowned  queen  of  England,  and  named  Alix." 

)  of  the  most  approved  historians  of  her  day,  the  author  of  the 
am  Abbey  Manuscripts,'  states  of  himself,  that  he  was  appointed  a 
of  Waltham  Abbey,  through  the  patronage  of  queen  Adelicia. 
^ronicler  is  the  same  person  who  has  so  eloquently  described  the 
[  search  made  for  Harold's  body,  after  the  battle  of  Hastings. 
licia  was  deprived  of  the  society  of  her  royal  husband  a  few 
aAer  their  marriage,  in  consequence  of  a  formidable  inbreak  of 
elsh,  who  had  entered  Cheshire,  and  committed  great  ravages, 
went  in  person  to  the  defence  of  his  border  counties,  and  having 
*d  the  invaders,  pursued  them  far  into  the  country, 
ing  this  campaign  his  life  was  in.  some  peril,  while  separated  from 
lin  body  of  his  troops,  in  a  narrow  defile  among  the  mountains, 
he  fell  into  an  ambush,  and  at  the  same  time  an  arrow,  which 
med  at  him  from  the  heights  above,  struck  him  on  the  breast,  but 
ided  from  his  armour  of  proof.  Henry,  who  probably  did  not 
is  Cambrian  foes  credit  for  that  skill  in  archery  for  which  his 


^  8«e  Cottonian  MSS.  Julius  D.  S.    See  note,  p.  Sa 


\ 


I  tSi  ADELICIA    OF     LOTVAINE. 

Tforman  followers  were  Ottnet],  intimated  his  Bii«ipirinns  of  Itnchnj 
among  his  own  people,  by  exclaiming,  "  By  our  Lord's  death,  it  wm  da 
Welsh  l^nd  thai  shot  that  arrow  !" ' 

This  narrow  escape,  or,  perhaps,  a  wUh  of  reluming  to  Atlelick  U 
Wesbninsler,  induced  the  king  to  conclude  a  peace  wtlh  the  Wel'h.  A 
very  brief  season  of  domestic  iiilereonrae  was,  howerer,  peimitl«d  to 
the  royal  pair.  Fulk,  earl  nf  Anjoii,  having  esponsed  hi«  youn^ 
daughter,  Sybil,  to  William  Clito,  the  earls  of  Mellent  and  Montfon,  wilb 
a  ponsiderable  parly  of  the  baronage  of  Normandy,  openly  iledand 
themselves  in  favour  of  that  prince,  the  heir  of  their  lawAil  duke,  Kobai 
Coiirlhose. 

Henry  1.  was  keeping  the  Easter  festiral,  with  hia  be-autiful  yomif 
queen,  at  Winchester,  when  the  news  iliat  Folk  of  Anjou  had  joined  thiv 
fonnidable  confederacy  reached  him.  He  sailed  for  Normandy  in  Ajvil 
1 123 ;  and  Adclicia  was  left,  as  her  predecessor,  Matilda  of  Seollind. 
had  often  been  before  her,  to  hold  her  lonely  courts  during  iha  pro- 
tracted abaence  of  her  royal  consort,  and  to  exert  herself  fur  the  p» 
wrvaiioa  of  the  internal  peace  of  England,  while  war  or  ■tale  polii^ 
detained  the  king  in  Normandy. 

Adelicia,  following  the  example  of  her  popular  predereaaor  HatUk 
"  the  good  queen,"  in  all  thai  was  deserving  of  imitation,  conducted  hn- 
•elf  in  a  manner  calculated  to  win  the  esteem  and  love  of  the  nation: 
using  her  queenly  infiuence  for  the  establishment  of  gooil  order,  reli- 
gion, and  refinement,  and  the  encouragement  of  learning  and  tlie  am. 
The  king  was  absent  from  England  three  yean  and  a  half,  l>cfore  iIm 
expiration  of  which  time  Adelicia  joined  him  in  Norman<ly.  Henrj-  had 
defeated  his  enemies  at  the  battle  of  Terroude,  near  Kouen,  and  laken  * 
merciless  vengeance  on  the  revolted  vassals  o(  Normandy,  who  wtrre  h 
unfortunate  as  to  fall  into  his  hands.  Hia  treatment  of  the  lucklrv 
troubadour  knight,  Luke  de  Barrt,*  though  the  circumstances  are  almoct 
loo  drewlful  for  repetition,  bears  loo  strongly  on  the  manners  and  cn»- 
loms  of  the  twelfth  century  to  be  omitted.  Luke  de  Barre  had,  acconl- 
ing  to  the  testimony  of  Ordericua  Vitalis.  been  on  terms  of  tlie  grralcA 
litmiltariiy  with  Henry  Beauclerc  in  the  days  of  ilieir  youth,  but,  (too 
some  cause,  hail  joined  the  revolt  of  the  earl  of  Mellenl  in  the  bte  ia- 
*urreciion;  and  ijie  said  earl,  and  all  the  confederate  peers  allied  ag^mt 
Henry's  government  in  Normandy,  had  been  wonderfully  cotnfortttl  asd 
encouraged  by  the  sirotniei,  or  war-congs,  of  Luke. 

These  songs  were  prorokingly  satirical ;  and,  being  personally  lenl- 
led  against  Henry,  contained,  we  should  suppose,  some  passages,  wlueh 
involved  a  betrayal  of  confidence ;  for  Henry  was  so  bitterly  ijweoxA 
that  when  the  luckless  poet  was  made  prisoner  at  the  baiUe  of  TorTMidb 
he  tmrbarously  condemned  his  former  friend  to  lose  hia  eyes  on  ■  self- 
fold,  by  the  hands  of  the  public  executioner.  This  aentence  was  groulv 
lamented  by  ttie  court ;  for  Luke  de  Barre  was  not  only  a  pl^asaut  anil 
jocose  companion,  but  a  gentleman  of  courage  and  honour.  The  ai 
of  Flanders  interceded  for  the  wretched  victim.' 


••  No,  nir,  no,"  rcplieil  Heiiry ;  "  for  iliis  mati  bv.'iaq  a  wii,  a  Iwivl, 
t  minsirvl,  fareiiuth  !  haih  composeil  many  ribolii  songs  aguinsl  me,  and 
rniiK  thein  to  raise  the  horse-laiigha  «f'  mine  enemies.  Now  ii  hath 
pleft*ed  Ooi]  to  deliver  him  into  niiim  haiida,  punished  he  shall  be,  to 
ietfr  oth<'rs  from  the  like  petulance." ' 

Th«  sentence  therefore  tuok  place,  and  the  hapless  poet  ilietl  of  the 
vvnnds  he  received  in  struggling  with  the  executioner.'  The  Provencal 
uiimliaU.  however,  declare  tiiat  the  gallant  troubadour  avoided  the  exe- 
eittioa  of  Henry's  Buntence,  by  dashing  his  head  against  the  wall,  which 
eagaed  his  death.  So  much  for  the  punishment  of  libels  in  tlie  twellUt 
wnlury. 

The  Saxon  Chronicle  epecilies  that  queen  Adelieia  returned  to  Eng- 
land. September,  ll^a,  accompanied  by  king  Henry  and  his  daughter^ 
th>'  empress  Matilda,  the  heiress  presumptive  of  England,  then  a  widow, 
in  her  twenty-fourth  year. 

According  to  Malmsbary  and  other  several  contemporary  historians, 
.nnge  and  mysterious  reports  were  in  circulation  throughout  Eur 
"iinecbed  with  the  death,  or  rather  we  should  say  the  diaappearanci 
^blildu's  imperial  spouse;  for  it  was  atlirmed  that  he  was  not  dead, 
ihoufh  bia  obsequies  had  been  performed  with  all  due  solemnity,  and  a 
Unriy  monument  was  raised  lo  his  memory,  in  the  eaihedrel  of  Spires, 
EfBi  (incc  ihc  miMrabie  death  of  bis  unhappy  father,  Henry  IV.,  ih« 
mperor  Henry  V.  had  been  subject  to  great  menial  diaqoiet,  ham  iho 
TKoane  which  perpetually  deprived  him  of  rest.  ^  One  night,"  says 
William  of  Malmsbury,  "  he  rose  up  from  the  side  of  ihe  empress,  and 
hLnff  his  etaff  in  hand,  with  naked  feet  he  waudered  forth  into  the 
duincM,  clod  only  in  a  woollen  garment,  and  was  never  again  seen  in 
ht  own  palace,"  This  wild  tale  is  repeated  by  Hoveden,  Uiraldus,  and 
Hifjilf^  tmd  is  confirmed  by  various  ancient  mannscript  chronicles, 
mdre  Trevisa,  who  adds,  by  way  of  sequel  to  the  legend,  that  "■  the 
esBarience-stricken  emperor  fled  to  England,  where  at  Westchester  he 
bMutiB  a  heimit,  changing  his  name  to  GodVcall,  or  the  called  ofGnd. 
S>  lind  in  daily  penance  for  the  space  of  tea  years,  and  was  buried  in 
ibe  cathedral  church  of  St.  Werburga  the  Virgin." 
The  empress  31atilda,  after  ilie  funeral  of  her  august  spouse  at  Spires 
1 13&,  took  possession  of  his  imperial  diadem,  which  she  brought  to 
:  leland,  together  with  a  treasure  which,  in  those  days,  was  by  soms 
'  .'usideivd  of  even  greater  importance — ilie  hand  of  Si.  James.  Matilda 
wu  rrluctani  lo  leave  Germany,  where  ahe  was  splendidly  dowered,  and 
tnioved  a  remarkable  share  of  popularity.  The  princes  of  the  empire 
•tre  to  much  charmed  with  her  prudent  conduct  and  stately  demean- 
odr,  that  they  entreated  the  king,  her  fether,  to  permit  her  lo  choose  a 
■wuod  eoiuorl  from  among  their  august  body,  promising  lo  elect  for 
fiieir  onperor  the  person  on  whom  her  choice  might  fall.' 

King  Il«nry,  however,  despairing  of  a  male  heir,  as  he  had  been  mai^ 
t^  to  Addicia  six  years,  reclaimed  his  widowed  daughter  from  thn 


4 


>ns,     ■ 

■•3  m 


I 


I 
I 


ADBLtCtA    OF     LOUVAIXB. 

kdmiring  Bobjects  of  lier  lale  eonaort,  and  carried  her  with  liiin  to  Eng- 
land. Soon  after  iheir  arrival,  Uenry  Gummoned  a  pariiaoteiit  for  the 
purpose  of  causing  the  empreis  Matilda  to  be  ofknowledgiil  as  tlic 
heite»s  preeiunptive  to  the  crown.  This  W8«  the  £rsl  inilance  thtit  !iui 
oceurreui  since  the  consolidation  of  the  Heptarchy  under  one  supifmc 
head,  of  a  female  itanding  in  that  important  posiiioo  with  reg»ril  to  the 
suceesaioti  of  the  English  crown.  There  was,  however,  neither  law  n« 
precept  lo  forbid  a  female  from  hoLding  the  re^  office,  and  Hi^nry  lailnj 
not  to  Hi  forth  to  tlie  representatives  of  the  great  body  of  the  people, 
who  hod  been  Bummoned  on  this  importaoi  business,  bis  danghitr'* 
descent  from  their  ancient  line  of  sovereigns;  telling  them,  '•Tbu 
through  her,  who  was  now  his  only  heir,  they  should  come  to  Ix 
governed  again  by  the  royal  English  blood,  if  they  would  make  aaih  lo 
secure  to  ber,  alter  his  death,  the  succession  as  queen  of  Engluul,  a 
case  of  his  decease  without  a  male  heir."  ' 

It  is,  dmibltesi,  on  the  authority  of  this  remarkable  passage  in  Henij'i 

rech,  that  historians  have  called  his  first  wife,  Matilda  of  ScollaWi 
heiress  of  the  Saion  line.     This  is  worthy  of  observation. 

The  people  of  England  joyfully  acceded  to  Henry^s  proposition ;  nd 
the  nobles  and  prelates  of  the  Norman  aristociacy,  then  BMembleil  » 
council  on  this  occasion,  swore  feajty  to  ibe  high  and  mighty  lady  K*- 
tilda  as  their  future  sovereign. 

Stephen  earl  of  Moriagne,  the  king's  favourite  nephew,  (being  lh«  thtnl 
son  of  the  Conqueror's  fourth  daughter,  Adela,  countess  of  Btois,)  wis 
the  lirat  who  bent  his  knee  in  homage  to  the  daughter  of  his  li^e  lut^ 
as  the  heiress  of  England,  and  swore  lo  maintain  her  lighleous  title  la 
the  throne  of  her  royal  father. 

Stephen  was  the  handsomest  man  in  Europe,  and  remarkable  for  hii 
fine  ciirriagc  and  knightly  prowess.  He  bore  great  sway  in  the  couscQi 
of  Ilia  royal  uncle,  and  was  a  general  favourite  of  the  nobles  of  Eo^inJ 
and  Normandy.  It  has  been  said  withal,  that  his  fine  person  and  giac*- 
ful  manners  made  a  deep  Impression  on  the  heart  of  tlie  widowed  heiiCH 
of  England - 

The  royal  family  kept  their  Christmas  this  year  nt  Windsor,'  hot  iht 
empresfl  Matilda  did  not  grace  the  festivities  by  her  presence,  but  rfr 
mained  in  the  deepest  seclusion,  ■'  abiding  continually,"  says  Hatthc* 
Paris,  "in  the  chamber  of  Adelicia;" — by  which  it  appears,  that  not* 
withstanding  her  high  rank  and  matronly  dignity  as  Ibe  widow  of  u 
emperor,  the  heiress  of  England  haii  no  establishment  of  her  oaii 
This  retirement,  lasting  for  several  months,  gave  rise  to  many  roystf- 
rious  reports  as  to  tlie  cause  of  her  being  hidden  from  the  people,  wio 
liad  so  receudy  been  required  to  swear  fealty  to  her  as  their  future  »of* 
leign.  By  some  it  was  said.  "^  iliac  the  king,  her  bther,  suspecied  b(( 
of  having  accelerated  the  death  of  her  late  husband,  the  emperor,  otM 
(Wising  him  to  be  spirited  away  from  his  palace."  Bat  that  was  en- 
denily  a  groundless  surmise ;  for  Gemiiicensis,  a  contempoiwy  chioiu- 
elet,  beara  testimony  to  "  her  prudent  and  gnicioua  behaviour  to  htt 

'  Hearjr  al  fiuntiDgdon.    W.  Ualuuburjr.    W.  GemUiceiuis.  ■  Smwb  Annis 


ADELtCIA     OP     LOrVAIKE.  137   1 

1  apuose,  which."  lie  observes,  ^  wub  one  of  the  enusea  which 
won  llic  Htcern  of  ilie  Gcnniiti  princes,  wliu  were  urgent  in  ilicir  entreat- 
ties  lo  hw  royal  fiuhfr  for  her  resiormtion."  This  Henry  jjertinairiousty 
rvAtMil,  tcpeating,  "  that  she  wbb  his  only  heir,  and  must  dwell  amoog 
her  own  people."  '  Yet,  early  in  the  following  year,  he  again  bestowed 
L  nurriago,  without  the  consent  of  his  peers  of  parliumenl,  and 
idly  Bgainst  her  own  inclination,  on  a  foreign  prince,  whom  she 
TVfudcd  with  the  most  incflkble  acorn,  as  her  inferior  in  every  point  of 

We  have  seen  tltat,  in  licr  tender  infancy,  Matilda  was  used  as  a  politi- 
cal puppet,  by  her  parent,  lo  advance  his  own  interest,  without  tha 
diicfabBl  con»ideialion  for  her  happiness.  Then  the  victim  was  led  ■ 
■■ding  sacrifice  to  (lie  altar,  unconscious  of  the  joyless  destiny  to  which 
{Mrcnliil  ambitioD  had  doomed  her.  AW  the  case  was  different  j  it  was 
ao  merk  inlWaL,  but  s  royal  matron,  who  had  shared  the  imperial  throne 
of  ■  Kvscr,  and  received  for  years  tiie  homage  of  Taesal  princes, 
Morrorer,  alie  whom  Henry  endeiivoured  to  compel  to  an  abhorrent 
marrian  of  stale,  possessed  a  mind,  as  inflexible  as  his  own.  The  dio- 
pMe«  oetweea  the  king  and  hi^  daughter  must  have  arisen  to  a  veiy 
moaoa  height,  before  he  look  the  unpopular  step  of  subjecting  her  to 
ptaoiwl  nairaint,  by  confining  her  to  the  apartment  of  his  queen. 

Jbttliew  pHia,  indeed,  Inhours  lo  convince  us  that  (here  was  nolhia^f 

(■{una  live  rather  than  with  a  (jueen,  a  daughter  than  with  a  mother,  a 
Ut  lady,  a  widow,  and  the  heir  of  a  great  nation,  than  where  her  person 
■qgfat  b«  ufest  from  danger,  and  her  conduct  from  suspicion  ?"  The 
Worian,  however,  fbrgela  that  Matilda  waa  the  step-daughter  of  the 
qqecn;  that  Adelicia  was  not  older  than  herself,  and,  from  the  acknow- 
Uged  jreuilenesa  of  her  disposiiion.  unlikely  to  assume  the  slightest 
IBatomal  control  over  the  iiaughty  heiress  of  England.  Adelicia  must 
li:itr  fr  Ii  ht-rself  very  delicately  situated  in  this  business;  and  it  appears 
[' <  !<i'>l  ilial  she  acted  as  a  mediator  between  tlte  contending  parlies, 
I  .'  I  ji  iiri^'  herself  rather  as  a  loving  sister  than  an  anibitious  step-dame. 
1  Ml  .1  irMiiplished  editor  of  the  Howard  Memorials  infers  that  a  very 
^'i.<M  ):i>nilship  existed  between  the  empress  Matilda  and  Adelicia 
V  ;  >ij'i  lii'e,  which  probably  had  cojnmenced  before  the  fair  maid  of 
i:',.  I  i:,i  It  OS  selected  from  among  the  princesses  of  Europe  lo  share  the 
rr.iMn  tti  England  wiih  Henry  I.;  for  Matilda^s  imperial  spouse,  the 
rvnfKtvt  Henry  V.,  had  been  actively  instrumental  in  assisting  Godfrey  J 
Ba^a.iu>t  (he  father  of  Adelicia.  in  the  recovery  of  Lower  Louvaine— ■  I 
■n  obligkiidii  which  the  Louvaine  princess  certainly  endeavoured  tv4 
npay  to  hia  widow.*  I 

Atktieia's  uncle,  Wido  of  Louvaine,  aiferwards  Pope  Calixtus  II.,  waa 
>l  000  period  bishop  of  Vienna,  and  it  is  even  possible  that  Henry'a 
anantion  was  first  aitracted  lo  the  fair  maid  of  Brabant  at  the  court  of 
Im  danghlrr;  and  the  previous  intimacy  between  the  ladies  may  accoui.l 
(or  (hr  fact  tltat  the  haughty  Slatilda  lived  on  such  good  terms  with  her 


I 


IS8  AOELICI.V    OF    LOVVAIHB. 

■tep-moiher;  for  AilelicLi  njipeurs  in  linvc  bt-eu  the  only  person  ttiih 
whom  sKe  did  not  quarrel. 

The  princp  lo  whom  Henry  I.  hail  pleilged  the  haiiil  of  his  perrerw 
lieiress,  was  Geotfrey  Planlagcnet,  llie  eldest  son  of  his  old  aiiugosiit, 
Fulk,  etirl  of  Aiijou,  atid  broiher  lo  ihe  widovred  princess,  who  hid 
been  espoused  lo  Mutilds's  brother,  WiUiain  the  Aiheling. 

GeolTrey  Pianlageoet,  the  heir  of  Anjou,  had  been  ihe  &Toirril8  ees- 
puiion  of  king  Henry  I.  when  on  ihe  continent.  His  line  penon,  hii 
elegant  manners,  great  bravery,  and,  above  all,  his  learning,  made  bii 
society  very  agreeable  to  the  nionnrch  who  still  possessetl  these  eied- 
lencics  in  great  perfection.'  He  chose  to  become  the  sponsor  of  Geofr 
irey  in  chivalry,  and,  at  his  own  expense,  had  had  that  high  cerentauf 
performed  at  Rouen.  After  the  bath  into  which,  according  lo  the  anuent 
custom,  the  young  chevalier  was  plunged,  Henry  gave  him,  as  his  god- 
son in  amis,  a  Spanish  steed,  a  steel  coat  of  mail,  and  cutsses  of  douUe 
proof  asuinst  both  lanes  and  arrow,  spurs  of  gold,  a  scolcheon,  adurasd 
with  golden  lions,  a  helmet,  enriched  with  jewels,  a  lance  of  asli,  wiih 
a  Poictiers'  bead,  and  a  sword  mode  by  Gallard,  the  most  famous  of  liis 
ancient  armorers.  Some  of  the  French  chroniclers  declare  this  Groffity 
to  be  the  first  person  that  bore  the  name  of  Plan lage net,  from  piiuingin 
his  helmet  a  plume  of  the  flowering  broom,  when  he  went  to  haul  in 
the  woods. 

The  king  of  England  did  not  coullne  himself  lo  this  chivalric  adof^ 
tion;  he  was  resolved  that  his  accomplished  favourile  should  becodw 
liis  son-4n-law.  There  were,  moreover,  strong  political  reajoits,  ia 
Henry's  opinion,  for  this  union.  Fulk  of  Anjou,  who  had  hitlierio  mf- 
porittl  the  claims  of  liis  gallant  young  son-in-law.  William  Clito,  to  tht 
(lukedora,  was  willing  lo  abandon  his  cau.se,  provided  Henry  wo^ 
marry  Jltalildn  lo  his  heir.  This  Henry  had  engaged  lo  do,  without  the 
slighiesl  attention  to  his  daughter^x  feelings.  His  favourite  nephtw, 
Stephen  of  Blois,  who  is  said  to  have  rendered  himself  only  too  ilcw 
to  the  imperial  widow,  was,  unfortunately  for  them  both,  a  muried  mfl 
at  that  time,  or  the  long  and  ruinous  civil  wars  lliat  desolate<l  EngUnd 
during  his  usurpation  might  have  been  averted  by  a  mairinionial  alluuiM. 
The  ceremony  of  beiroihment  between  the  reluctant  Maldda  and  Qeof- 
hey  of  Anjou  took  place  on  Whitsunday.  1 127,  and  she  was,  after  ih* 
festirtlies  of  Whitsuiilide  were  over,  conducted  into  Normandy  by  btf 
half-brother,  Itobert  earl  of  Gloucester,  and  Brian,  sun  of  Alau  Fergnn), 
etri  of  Kichinond,  with  great  pomp. 

The  feasts  and  pageants  that  niiended  her  arrival  in  Norttmndy  wm 
prolonged  during  three  weeks.  On  the  first  day,  heralds  in  grand  ens* 
iiune  went  through  the  streets  and  squares  of  Bouen,  shouting  at  tntf 
etouway  this  singular  proclamation  : — 

'^Thus  saiih  king  Henry! 
lO  man  here  present,  wiielher  native  or  foreigner,  rich  or  poW) 


"  ADELICIAOPLOIVAINE.  129    1 

hieti  or  \ow,  iTBrrior  or  rnstin,  lie  §o  boiil  as  lo  slay  away  from  the  royd 
rrjaieiogB;  for  whenever  shall  not  lake  n  part  in  the  games  and  diwer- 
roRs.  thall  he  considered  fuiliy  of  an  offence  lo  our  lord  the  king.'" 

Kiiii^  Henry  lud  pvcn  poshive  commands  lo  Maiilda  and  her  illu»- 

irioiii  rwort.  that  ilie  niiptinis  should  be  solemnixed  by  the  archbishop 

iif  HoiK^ii  titimediitlely  on  her  arrival;'  bnt  he  was  himself  com  peLed  ti 

uiKlr.TUke  a  voyage  to  Normandy,  in  Ansusi,  lo  see  the  inarriage  con 

liideO.  which  did  not  lake  place  itll  the  26ih  of  that  month;'  from 

■  Inch  we  may  Trasonably  infer  that  ihe  reluctant  bride  paid  very  liille 

^diiun  lo  his  dirtctiona.    The  affair  was  ut  length,  however,  accom- 

;  (i>-hcfJ  to  Henry's  mlisfkclioii,  more  especially  as  Fidk  of  Anjou,  beinj 

called  to  the  Uirone  of  Jenisakm.  by  the  death  of  Baldwin  IL  Ilia  fallier- 

iii>law,  resigned  his  palriraoiiial  territories  to  his  heir.    Yet  there  were 

nany  cireuinslunees  that  rendered  this  alliance  a  fruitful  source  of  an- 

ii'Tance  to  Henry.    The  Anglo-Nonnan  barons  and  prelates  were  highly 

'Ti-iided,  in  tlie  first  place,  that  the  king  should  hare  presumed  to  marry 

It'  hrirrsa  out  of  the  realm  without  consulting  them  on  the  subject; 

-:ui  ihr  pimple  of  England  were  no  less  displeased, at  the  open  violenca 

'-'u\  li:iJ  licen  put  on  the  inclinations  of  the  descendant  of  thetr  ancient 

.  ,,.  p.  1^1,,  II,  iiiig  foreign  marriage.     As  for  Matilda,  it  Hbould  seem  that 

•  'ii   ill  lilt  consider  herself  by  any  means  bound  to  practise  the  duty 

ri(  i.iK.  [)i,'ni'e,  or  even  of  common  courtesy,  to  a  husband  who  had  thus 

bna  forced  upon  her  against  her  own  will;  and  while  she  exacted  the 

ROM  nnqualilied  submissions  froto  her  luckless  helpmate,  she  perpetually 

'«d  her  father  with  her  complaints  of  his  conduct. 

.  sen  Adelicia  was  rejoined  by  king  Henry,  in  the  autumn,  and 

[  An  kepi  ilieir  Christmas  together  in  Loudon.     Early  in  the  following 

IliBDg.  1128,  he  was  again  compelled  lo  embark  for  Normandy,  to 

■  mm  the  enterprising  designs  of  his  nephew,  William  Cliio,  who, 

I  knng  sncreeded  to  the  earldom  of  Flanders,  in  right  of  his  grand- 

■  rr  Matilda,  tlie  wife  of  William   the  Conqueror,  was  enabled   to 

at  a  mure  formidable  attitude  ihan  he  had  yet  done.     But  this  gaU 

iml  unfortunate  prince  met  with  his  death  in  consequence  of  a  slight 

id  in  tiie  thumb,  which  he  took  in  disanning  a  mutinous  soldier  of 

MHX.     He  died  six  days  af\er,*  in  the  monaalerv  of  Sl  Berlin,  July 

n,  ii«s. 

Tlii*  formiilable  ri^-al  being  now  removed,  Henry  appeared  at  the 
■OBBUt  of  his  ambition,  and  was  considen^d  the  mightiest  monarch  of 
die  Weal.  He  was  the  husband  withal  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  ] 
■BiahlA  piiBceasus  in  Europe. 

Whedier  the  fair  Adelicia  loved  her  r 
cecoided;  but  her  conduct  as  a  wife,  a  queen,  n 
■a*  irtrproachable.     When  all   i ' 

'ko«i|TiD<i.      MBlmtbui)-.      Sci  , 
'^■iDn  Aniula.      S.  Dunalm.     Malnisbuty.     Huntingdon.        *  Saxon  Amuls. 
■Hi*  catntre  Tather,  Robert  Counbose,  it  ia  Mid,  one  morning  sucpriacd  Wr    | 
'-nil>Bt*  bjr  WMping  piteoiulr,  and  exolaiming,  "  My  »on  ii  drad  !  mf  torn  iai    ' 
-ti  r  aaJ  tabued,  "  thai  ha  had  in  hi*  dreams,  that  night,  teea  him  mortally 
■otadad  wiik  ■  l«nc».''-0>airtnil  TiKUl. 


I 


t  ADELIcrA    OF     LOtJVAIHK. 

(carcely  be  tma^«il,  however,  ihiti  lier  aplenilid  marriage  was  prodne- 
tivc  of  happiness  to  Itie  youlhCul  wife  of  Henry  I.  To  Bay  noiiiiii^  of 
liie  (lispariiy  in  yrare  between  this  iUusirioua  pair,  llie  morbiil  Borraw 
of  wliich  Heofy  was  the  perpetual  prey  after  the  loss  of  hia  cliiltlren  is 
the  white  ship,  the  iraBcibility  of  temper  to  which  he  gave  way  in  hi* 
old  age,  and  his  biller  disappoin intent  at  the  want  of  o&pritig  from  hii 
■ecDud  marriage,  muai  hare  been  mo«t  distressing  to  the  feeUng*  of  hit 

Setitle  consort.  Then  the  stormy  disputes  between  Henry  and  hti  uiilf 
tughter  Matilda  could  not  hare  been  oilierwise  iliai)  very  piunfol  to 
her.  Whatever,  however,  were  the  trial*  with  which  Adetiria  bad  to 
contend,  she  evidently  supported  them  with  silent  magnanimity,  andil 
the  same  time  endeavoured  to  sonihe  and  cheer  the  glooin  of  her  wajT' 
ward  lord  by  attracting  to  the  cniirt  the  moat  distinguishetl  poeB  ud 
minstrels  of  the  age,  who  repaid  her  liberal  patronage  by  cdcbnUng 
her  virtues  and  her  c banns. 

Adelida  frequently  altended  her  royal  husband  on  hia  progw* 
Her  presence  was,  doubtleaa,  of  medicinal  inllueuce  iu  tiiow  fniM 
hours  when  the  pang8  of  troubled  conscience  brought  the  visilatioiM  <^ 
an  evil  spirit  upon  Henry,  and  sleep  either  forsook  his  pillow  or  broo^ 
visionary  horrors  in  its  train.  "  In  the  year  1 130,  the  ktn^  romploinBd 
to  Grimbald,  his  Saxon  physician,  that  he  viae  sore  disquieted  i>f  nights, 
and  thai  h?  seemed  to  see  a  great  number  of  husbandmen  with  llMir 
rtislical  tools  stand  about  him,  threatening  him  for  wrongs  done  aguiM 
them.  Sometimes  he  appeared  to  see  his  knights  and  soldiers  thtmtoB^ 
ing  him ;  which  sight  so  feared  him  in  his  sleep,  that  ofttime^a  he  igM 
undrest  out  of  hU  bed,  took  weapon  in  hand,  and  sought  to  kill  tb*n 
he  could  not  find.  Grimbald,  his  phvsician,  being  a  nouiblv  wiee  mni 
expounded  his  dreams  by  true  conjeciuie,  and  willed  him  to  rcfim 
himself  by  alms  and  prayer,  as  Nebuchadneziar  did  by  lite  coutisfl  tt 
Daniel." ' 

It  is  probable  that  the  unfortunate  troubadour  knight,  Luke  de  Bans, 
was  not  forgotten  by  the  conscience- stricken  monarch,  though  ttinn- 
rians  have  not  recorded  that  his  mangled  form  was  among  the  gbwilf 
dranvtt*  pcrtona  thai,  in  his  latter  years,  made  king  Hcrtr)''s  iU|IUi 
horrible;  —  no  enviable  stale  of  companionship,  we  should  itnagins, ior 
the  young  and  innocent  being  whose  fate  was  indissolubly  linkeil  witb 
hts.  It  must  have  been  a  relief  at  all  times  to  Adelicia  when  her  royal 
husband's  presence  was  required  in  Normandy. 

On  the  death  of  Adclicia's  uncle,  pope  Golixtua  H.,  a  dispute  octah 
ring  ill  the  election  of  two  rival  pontids  as  succeuore  to  the  pap^  dnir, 
Henry  proceeded  to  the  continent,  in  the  year  1130,  in  the  hope  of  r«^ 
ing  some  poUlical  advantage  from  the  candidate  whose  cause  he  espoimi 
His  errangemeots  were  perfectly  salisfa^ory  as  to  that  matter,  but  tw  ww 
lo  the  last  degree,  harassed  b}-  the  quairels  between  his  doubter  bimI  hfc 
unbeloved  «)ouse,  Geoffrey  oi  Anjou.  After  he  had  thrice  Bdjuned  tiet 
dif&teiices,  Matilda,  on  some  fresh  oflence  which  she  eitlier  gave  or  ImL 
abjured  her  husband's  company,  departed  tram  his  court,  ami  rl>iT< 


ADXLICIA    OF    LOUVAINB.  ISl 

ihe  protection  of  the  king  her  father,  with  whom  she  once  more  returned 
to  England,'  having,  by  the  eloquence  of  tears  and  complaints,  succeeded 
in  exciting  his  indignation  against  her  husband,  and  persuading  him  that 
die  was  an  injured  person. 

Soon  after  their  arrival  in  England,  a  parliament  was  summoned  to 
meet  at  Northampton,  September,  1131,  where  the  oath  of  fealty  to 
Matilda,  as  the  heiress  of  England,  was  again  renewed  by  the  general 
estates  of  the  nation.' 

It  was  a  subject  of  the  greatest  disappointment,  both  to  the  sovereign 
and  the  people,  that  there  was  no  prospect  of  either  the  queen  Adelicia, 
or  the  empress  Matilda  (though  both  were -still  young  and  beautiful 
women)  bringing  heirs  to  the  crown.  So  desirable  was  the  possibility 
of  the  royal  line  being  continued  through  Matilda  considered,  that  when 
the  count  of  Anjou  sent  an  humble  entreaty  to  his  haughty  consort  to 
return  to  him,  the  king  and  parliament  seconded  his  request ;  and  all  due 
submissions  having  been  made  by  Geofiirey,  Matilda  was  at  length  induced 
to  return  to  him.' 

A  passage  from  Mezerai  casts  some  light  on  the  mysterious  separation 
that  took  place  between  the  widowed  empress  and  her  new  spouse. 
After  the  nuptials  of  this  pair,  a  monk  came  to  Matilda,  and  declared 
that  her  late  lord,  the  emperor  Henry,  had  not  died  at  Utrecht,  as  she 
and  all  the  world  supposed,  but  that  he  finished  his  days  as  a  servant  in 
an  hospital,  which  severe  penance  he  had  sworn  to  inflict  on  himself 
for  his  heavy  sins.  When  dyin^  at  Angers,  the  disguised  emperor  dis- 
covered hiniself  to  this  monk,  his  confessor,  who  came  to  Matilda  with 
the  news.  In  conclusion  it  is  said,  the  empress  attended  the  death-bed 
of  Henry  V.,  and  recognised  and  acknowledged  him,  as  the  emperor, 
her  first  husband. 

This  is  a  fine  tragic  tale,  whether  it  be  true  or  false. 

The  following  year  was  remarkable  for  a  destructive  fire,  which  con- 
sumed the  greatest  part  of  London  '*  but  soon  after  this  national  calamity, 
the  joyful  news  that  the  empress  Matilda  had  given  birth  to  a  prince,^ 
diverted  the  attention  of  the  royal  family  from  the  contemplation  of  this 
misfortune,  and  cast  the  last  gleam  of  brightness  on  the  declining  yean 
of  the  king. 

The  young  prince  was  named  Henry,  after  his  royal  grand&ther,  the 
king  of  England.  The  Normans  called  him  Fitz-Empress,  but  king 
Henry  proudly  styled  the  boy  Fitz-Conqueror,  in  token  of  his  illustrious 
deseent  from  the  mightiest  monarch  of  the  line  of  Rollo.* 

King  Henry  summoned  his  last  parliament  in  1133,  for  the  purpose 
of  caosing  this  precious  child  to  be  included  in  the  oath  of  fealty,  by 
which  the  succession  to  the  throne  was,  for  the  third  time,  secured  to 
his  daughter,  the  empress  Matilda.  If  his  queen  Adelicia  had  brought 
him  a  son,  after  these  repeated  acts  in  favour  of  his  daughter  by  a 
princess  who  was  regarded  by  the  minority  of  the  people  as  the  heiress 
of  the  royal  English  line,  in  all  probability,  a  civil  war  respecting  the 

*  Roger  Hoveden.    H.  Hontiiigdoii.  'Malmtbuiy.    H.  Huntingdon. 

•M.  Paris.       «H.  Huntingdon.       *R.  Diceto.  M.  Paris.       *M  WaatmmauBt. 


I 
I 
I 


I 


133  ADKLICIA     or     LOl1VAI\8. 

Euccesfiion,  would  have  occurred  on  ilie  dealh  of  king  HeniT'.  Hm 
liarrt^nnraR  of  the  beautiful  young  queen,  however,  though  so  deeply 
kmenled  by  her  royal  husband,  was  ai  ihai  time,  no  doubi,  a  prorideo- 
tial  dispensation,  and  one  of  the  causes  of  the  amity  and  confidence  ihu 
mb«isted  between  her  and  her  haughty  step-daughter. 

Towardi  the  latter  end  of  this  ennimer,  king  Henry  embarked  on  hit 
Iwl  voyage  for  Nonnandy.  The  day  wag  remarkable  for  B  loUJ  eclipw 
of  ihe  Eun,  accompanied  will)  storms  and  violenl  commotions  of  ibt 
deep.'  It  was  so  dark,  say  the  annalists  of  that  era,  >*  that  on  board  the 
royal  ship  no  man  might  eee  anollier's  face  for  some  hours."  Tlit 
eclipse  was  followed  by  an  earthquake  i  and  these  two  phenomena  were, 
according  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  regarded  aa  portents  of  ItoiTor  and 
woe,  aud  it  was  predicted  thai  the  king  would  never  return  from  N«r- 

On  a  former  occasion,  when  Henry  had  embarked  for  Englsodr  in 
June  1131,  he  was  so  dismayed  by  the  bursting  of  a  wslet^pont  orcr 
the  vessel,  and  the  fury  of  the  wind  and  waves,  that,  believing  hia  Iwi 
hour  was  at  hand,  he  made  a  penitent  acknowledgment  of  his  sina,  pro- 
mising to  lead  a  new  life  if  it  should  please  God  to  preserve  him  fna 
the  peril  of  death,  and,  above  all,  he  rowed  to  repeat  the  oppronin 
impiwl  of  danegelt  for  seven  years,  if  he  were  permilled  to  reach  tb« 
English  shore  in  safety  *  From  this  incident  we  may  infer  that  Uenrr  L 
was  by  no  means  impressed  with  his  brother  Rufus's  bold  idea,  ofdH 
Hecurily  of  a  king  of  England  Irom  a  watery  grave ;  but  the  eatastraphc 
of  his  children  in  the  fauil  white  ship  had  no  doubt  some  offibcl  on  Hi 
mind,  during  these  perils  on  the  deep. 

The  summer  of  1 1 39  he  spent  in  Normandy,  in  feasts  and  rejoiringi, 
for  the  birth  of  his  inlant  grandson.  That  event  was,  however,  only  ^ 
precursor  of  fresh  dissensions  between  that  ill-assorted  pair,  the  empKH 
Matilda  and  her  husband,  Geoffrey  Plantagenet  Her  late  visit  to  Eit|- 
land  had  renewed  the  scandalous  reports  respecting  her  partiality  for  ha 
cousin,  Stephen  of  Blois ;  and  the  birih  of  a  son  in  the  sizOi  rear  of 
tlieir  marriage  to  the  long  childless  pair  proved  anything  but  tt  oond  rf 
union  between  them.* 

There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Adelicia  was  with  the  king  bci 
husband  at  the  time  of  his  deatl),  wliich  took  place  in  Normandy,  in  the 
year  1 1 35,  at  the  Castle  of  Lyons  near  Houen,  a  place  in  which  be  nmeh 
delighted.  It  is  said,  that  having  over-fatigued  himself  in  bunting  in  tM 
forest  of  Lyons,  he  returned  much  healed,  and,  contrary  to  the  aihin 
of  his  courtiers  and  physicians,  made  too  full  a  meal  on  a  dish  of  stewsd 
lampreys,  his  favourite  food,  which  brought  on  a  violent  fit  of  indigo 
lion  (called  by  the  chroniclers  a  surfeit),  ending  in  a  fever,  of  which  he 
died,  after  an  illness  of  seven  days,  at  jnidnight,  December  1st,  in  the 
sixty-«eventh  year  of  his  ege.  He  appears  to  have  been  perfectly  oao- 
scious  of  hi*  approaching  dissolution,  for  he  gave  particular  directioM 
respecting  his  obsequies  to  his  natural  son,  Robert  earl  of  G1ouc»1ct, 
whom  he  charged  to  take  60,000  marks  out  of  his  treaaure-chesi  U 

'Stxoa  AaitAlM.       '  W,  Malmtbuiy.       *  Saxon  Annali.       '  Saxoa  OrranM^ 


ADKLICIA    OF    LOUVAI5B.  133 

liaise,  for  the  expenses  of  his  funeral,  and  the  payment  of  his  merce- 
iry  troops.'  He  solemnly  bequeathed  his  dominions  to  his  daughter 
e  empress,  not  without  some  indignant  mention  of  her  luckless  spouse, 
eofirey  of  Anjou,  his  former  Sieve  and  bel  ami.  He  absolutely  ex- 
uded liim  from  any  share  in  his  bequests,  and  with  much  earnestness 
instituted  his  beloved  son,  earl  Robert,  the  protector  of  his  daughter's 
Shts. 

Ilis  nephews,  Warren  earl  of  Surrey,  and  Stephen  de  Blois  earl  of 
[ortagne,  with  Robert  eari  of  Leicester,  were  standing  round  the  bed 
!*  the  expiring  monarch,  and  were  witnesses  of  his  charge  to  his  son, 
le  earl  of  Gloucester.' 

Robert  of  Gloucester  gives  the  following  serio-comic  account  of  the 
lyal  wilfulness,  in  partaking  of  the  interdicted  food  which  caused  his 
9ath: 

"  When  he  came  home  he  willed  him  a  lamprey  to  eat. 
Though  hit  leeches  him  forbade,  for  it  was  a  feeble  meat ; 
But  he  would  not  them  believei  for  he  loved  it  well  enow, 
And  eat  in  evil  case,  for  the  lamprey  it  him  slew, 
For  right  soon  af\er  it  into  anguish  him  drew, 
And  he  died  for  his  lamprey  unto  his  own  woe." 

The  noble  earls  who  surrounded  the  death-bed  of  king  Henry,  and 
stened  to  his  last  instructions  respecting  his  funeral,  attended  his 
emains  from  the  town  of  St  Denis  le  Forment  (where  he  breathed  his 
Mt)  to  Rouen ;  and  when  they  entered  that  city,  they  reverently  bore 
he  bier,  on  which  the  royal  corpse  was  laid,  on  their  shoulders  by 
oms.* 

At  Rouen,  the  remains  of  this  mighty  sovereign,  in  preparation  for 
emoval  to  England,  underwent  the  process  of  embalming,  as  it  was 
ailed,  according  to  the  barbarous  fashion  described  by  the  chroniclers : 
he  body  was  sliced  and  powdered  with  much  salt,  and  vnrapped  in  a 
lolPs  hide. 

The  remains  of  king  Henry  were  interred  with  great  pomp  on  Christ- 
sas-day,  at  the  abbey  of  Reading,  which  he  had  built  and  magnificently 
ndowed  for  that  purpose.  On  the  anniversary  of  the  death  of  her 
oyal  lord,  queen  Adelicia,  to  testify  her  respect  for  his  memory,  gave 
ry  charter  the  manor  of  Eton  in  Hertfordshire  to  the  abbey  of  Reading, 
or  prayers  to  be  said  for  his  soul ;  and,  by  a  second  charter,  she  also 
[are  the  manor  of  Stanton  Harcourt,  in  Oxfordshire,  and  the  churches 
if  Cham,  Eslingham,  and  others,  for  the  expenses  of  his  anniversary — a 
olemn  service  for  the  repose  of  his  soul, — which  was  yearly  to  be  cele- 
Mmled  there.^  The  royal  widow  also  save  one  hundred  shillings,  out 
if  the  hythe,  or  wharf  (Qjueen  hythe),l)elonging  to  her  in  London,  to 
le  applied  to  the  expenses  of  a  lamp,  to  burn  perpetually  before  his 
4NDb.*  In  these  charters  and  deeds  she  styles  herself  ^Adalid  the  queen. 


*Qrderknis  Vitalis.    W.  Malmsbury.  Ibid.  *  Henry  Huntingdon 

« Howard  Memorials.    Monasticon,  Charter  7.  art  Reading.  *Ibid. 

TOL.  I. — 12 


I 


ADELICIA    OF    LOUVAtNE. 

»i-ife  of  ihe  moBi  Doble  kiug  Henrj',  and  Jauglitcr  of  Godfrey,  Jukt  d 
Lutharingia." ' 

The  chroniclers  of  that  rfign,  several  of  whom  verc  well  acqmiDtiJ 
with  him,  hate  given  the  following  lively  description  of  the  person  rf 
Adelicia's  royal  lord.  «  He  was,  for  peraouage,  of  reasonable  fUlnre, 
broad-breasted,  well-jainled,  and  full  of  flesh,  amiable  of  caunWoaiMe, 
with  fine  and  penetrating  eyes,  and  black  hair,  carelessly  hanging  sboil 
hia  forehead."'  It  is  to  be  remarked,  that  after  he  had  been  inducMLbf 
llie  eloquent  preaching  of  friar  Serlo,  lo  submit  (his  natural  ornainait  to 
the  siiearB  of  iliai  priesily  reformer,  he  was  verj'  strict  in  Lb  prohibilkm 
to  his  subjects  against  long  hair. 

Two  illuminated  portraits  of  Henry  1.  are  jn  existence:  both  repnant 
him  as  advanced  iu  life,  and  in  a  melancholy  attitude ;  suppoaed  to  Im 
after  the  loss  of  his  children.  His  face  is  handsome,  with  high 
regular  features,  his  hair  curling,  but  not  lung;  his  figure  is  eaiscn 
he  is  clad  tn  a  ven'  close  dress,  the  shoe  and  slocking  all  of  a  pice*,  tad 
the  loe  pointed:  he  wears  a  mantle  wrapped  about  him.  Uis  crown ii 
ornamented  with  [liree  trefoils^  his  sceptre  is  a  staff  with  an  ornamented 
head.  Ue  is  sealed  on  a  stone  bench,  carved  in  an  architectoral  deaigt- 
He  is  represented  in  the  coronation  robes  he  wore  at  the  crowning  df 
Adelicia.' 

Henry  received  from  his  subjecls  the  title  of  the  Lion  of  Jualice.  TIb» 
appellation  was  drawn  from  the  prophecies  of  Merlin,  then  very  pofli'i 
in  England.  On  the  accession  of  every  sovereign  to  the  English  llinHi 
all  his  subjects  consulted  these  rigmaroles,  as  naturally  as  we  coDraltu 
mlmnnac,  lo  know  when  there  is  a  new  moon. 

■*  After  two  dragons,"  says  Merlin,  '■'■  the  Lion  of  Justire  shall  oonC) 
at  whose  roaring  the  Gallic  lowers  and  island  serpents  shall  trembla." 

This  Lion  of  Justice  certainly  suffered  no  one  to  break  the  law*  but 
himself,  if  he  is  accountable  for  the  villanies  of  his  purveyors,  his  ilam)- 
ard  of  justice  was  not  very  high :  "'  the  king's  servants,  and  a  multindt 
following  the  royal  reliuue,  took  and  spoiled  everything  the  way  lb* 
king  went,  there  being  no  discipline  or  good  order  taken.*  When  llWT 
ronld  not  consume  what  they  found  in  the  house  they  had  brokeji  iato, 
they  made  the  owners  carry  it  to  maiket  and  sell  it  for  them;  ihw 
bonied  the  provisions,  or  washed  their  horses'  feet  with  the  ale  ot  naiii. 
or  poured  tlie  drink  on  the  ground,  or  otherwise  wasted  it,  so  that  f*nv 

Egu  Arlalid  Regina,  uxor  nobilisumi  Regis  Hi-nrici.  el  llll.i  I . 
LolbulnsiiE.  'Cnnoninti  MS^ 

* Thew  poitniu  eincllf  agree  wllb  the  deieri]iuans  of  tbu  <  << 
niDiKisiic  i-hioniclea.     "  Tbey  wore  dote  bieeube*  ami  ■locking  - 
made  of  fiae  cloth  ;"  the  pointed  shoes  were  broiighi  in  by  ^^  i  ■ 
-»  flm  inrenled  hj  Ynlqoe  \e  Rechin  (whose  aurnnnio  mca.i.- 
nt  of  Anjou,  lo  hide  hiseoms  and  bunions.    The  queen  an.'  > 
ro  gown*  and  mantles  Wailing  oii  the  ground.    The  marripa  \. 
additional  robe  over  iJie  gown,  noi  UQlikH  tlie  «M;erdoial  gaimtui .  ;^  ...^  ^.- 
■  largo  pooch  oi  purse  whb  Bu>pen<ted,  called  an   aunutni^.     The  tueit  hi'.'? 
iheir  hair  in  long  curls,  unless  seiKRl  wiili  suitden  fits  of  hnatl^luii.    The  u*^ 
rioJ  wDmen  biaided  their*  verj-  cicael]'  lo  the  aide  of  i2ib  Ihoe,  or  liid  f. 


ADXLICIA    OF    LOUVAINX.  135 

one  hearing  of  the  lung's  coming  would  run  away  from  their  houses." 
Whenever  Henry  t.  was  under  any  apprehensions  from  his  brother 
Robett,  he  regulated  his  household  somewhat  better,  and  kept  the  law- 
lessness of  his  purveyors  within  bounds.* 

Henry  carried  the  art  of  dissimulation  to  such  a  pitch  that  his  grand 
insticiary  started  when  he  heard  the  king  had  praised  him,  and  exclaimed. 
•God  defend  me!  the  king  praises  no  one  but  him  whom  he  means  to 
ienuroy."" 

The  result  proved  the  deep  knowledge  which  the  minister  liad  of  his 
royal  roaster's  chaiacter,  as  Henry  of  Huntingdon,  his  archdeacon,  de- 
tails at  length. 

What  degree  of  hi^ypiness  Adelicia  the  Fair  enjoyed  during  the  fifleen 
rears  of  queenly  splendour  which  she  passed  as  the  consort  of  Henry 
Beauclerc,  no  surviving  records  tell ;  but  that  she  was  very  proud  of  his 
ichievements  and  brilliant  talents,  we  have  the  testimony  of  the  poetical 
chronicler,  who  continued  the  history  of  Brut,  from  William  the  Con- 
queror, through  the  reign  of  William  Rufus.  It  appears,  moreover,  that 
the  ro\*al  dowager  employed  herself  during  her  widowhood  in  collecting 
materials  for  the  history  of  her  mighty  lord ;  for  Gaimar^  the  author  of 
the  history  of  the  Angles,  observes,  ^  that  if  he  had  chosen  to  have 
written  of  king  Henry,  he  had  a  thousand  things  to  say,  which  the 
Inmbadour  called  David,  employed  by  queen  Adelicia,  knew  nought 
about ;  neither  had  he  written,  nor  was  the  Louvaine  queen  herself  iu 
possession  of  them.'' 

If  the  collection  of  queen  Adelicia  should  ever  be  brought  to  light,  it 
would  no  doubt  afford  a  curious  specimen  of  the  biographical  powers  of 
the  illustrious  widow,  and  her  assistant.  Troubadour  David,  whose  name 
has  only  been  rescued  from  oblivion  by  the  jealousy  of  a  disappointed 
rival  in  the  art  of  historical  poetry. 

During  tlie  life  of  the  king  her  husband,  Adelicia  had  founded  and 
endowed  the  hospital  and  conventual  establishment  of  St.  Giles,  near 
Wilton;'  and,  according  to  a  Wiltshire  tradition,  she  resided  there  dur- 
ing some  part  of  her  widowhood,  in  the  house  which  is  still  called  by 
her  name.*  She  was  likewise  dowered  by  her  late  husband,  king  Henry, 
in  the  fair  domain  of  Arundel  Castle,  and  its  rich  dependencies,  the  for- 
feit inheritance*  of  the  brutal  Robert  earl  of  Belesme ;  and  here,  no  doubt, 
the  royal  widow  held  her  state  at  the  expiration  of  the  first  year  of 
cloistered  seclusion,  after  the  death  of  her  illustrious  spouse. 

Camden  thus  describes  the  spot  which  the  magnificent  taste  of  the 
kle  duke  of  Norfolk  has,  within  the  last  centuiy,  rendered  one  of  the 
most  splendid  objects  of  attraction  in  England : — ^^  Beyond  Selsey,  the 
shore  breaks,  and  makes  way  for  a  river  that  runs  out  of  St.  Leonard's 
forest,  and  then  by  Arundel,  seated  on  a  hill,  o\er  a  vale,  of  the  river 
Aran."  At  this  Saxon  castle,  built  and  strengthened  on  the  hill  above 
the  waters,  Adelicia  was  residing  when  she  consented  to  become  the 
wife  of  William  de  Albini,  of  the  Strong  Hand,  the  lord  of  Buckenham 
ID  Norfolk,  and  one  of  the  most  chivalrous  peers  in  Europe. 

'  Malmsbuiy.  '  Henry  of  Huntingdon.  *  ^oward  Memon&U* 

*  Sir  Richard  Hoare't  Modern  Wiltshire.  ^Tiemey'ft  XTuikii^V. 


L 


ADELICIA    OF    I.OUVAIIIB. 

AccordiDg  to  Mr.  Howard's  compulation,  Adelicia  was  in  her  ihatf 
Bccontl  yeor  at  t!ie  time  of  king  Henry's  denih.  in  the  irty  nriiJe  of  hn 
beauty ;  and  slie  contracted  her  seconil  niurriage  in  llie  ihinl  year  of  ba 
widowhoixi,  x.D.  1136.' 

Her  second  «pouse,  William  de  Albini,  with  the  Strong  Arm.  was  lbs 
Boti  of  William  de  Albini,  who  was  called  Pincerna,'  hsiug  thr  ebirf 
butler  or  cup-bearer  of  the  duchy  of  Normandy.  William  iha  Con- 
queror appointed  him  to  the  same  ofSce  in  England  at  his  coronuianiB 
Wesliniuster  Abbey ;  which  honour  has  descended  by  hereditary  cinlm 
to  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  his  rightful  representative  and  heir ;  and  «hei 
there  is  a  coronation  banquet,  the  golden  cup  out  of  which  llm  «orereigi 
drinks  to  the  health  of  his  or  her  loting  subjects  beconius  hia  pw- 
^uiBite.' 

It  appears  that  Adelicia  and  Albini  were  alfioneed  some  time  preriouf 
to  liieir  marriage ;  for  when  he  won  the  prize  at  the  toumument  beM  it 
Bourges  in  1 137,  in  honour  of  the  nuptials  of  Louis  VI  I.  of  France  aiul 
Eteanora  of  Aquilaine,  Adelaide,  the  gay  queen-dowager  of  France,  fcU 
passiunately  in  love  with  him,  and  wooed  him  to  become  her  bushwuli 
but  lie  replied,  "  that  his  troth  was  pledged  to  Adelicia,  the  i]ueen  of 
England.'** 

Although  it  may  be  considered  somewlial  remarkable  that  two  qucew 
downgerti  of  similar  names  shoidd  have  dxed  (heir  affectioas  un  the  mim 
gentleman,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  such  waa  the  fact;  bit 
the  marvellous  legend  so  gravely  related  by  Dugdole,*  containing  ibf 
sequel  of  the  late,  namely,  the  uiilady-like  conduct  of  ilie  rejected  ditw- 
i^r  of  Fiance,  in  pushing  the  strong-handed  Albini  into  a  ca*c  in  bfr 
garden,  where  she  had  secreted  a  fierce  lion  lo  become  the  minister  of 
her  jealous  vengeance,  together  with  the  knight's  redoubtable  exploit  in 
tearing  out  the  lion's  heart,  which  he  muEl  have  found  conveniently 
situated  at  the  boilom  of  his  throat,  a  piece  where  no  anatomist  would 
have  thought  of  feeling  for  it,  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
romances  of  the  age  of  chivalry. 

We  have  seen  another  version  of  the  story,  in  which  the  hero  ii 
lo  have  deprived  the  lion,  not  of  liis  heart,  hut  his  tongue ;  _ 

doubtless  the  tradition  lelatitig  to  William  of  the  Strong  Hand,  sitiea  ifal 
Albini-lion  on  the  ancient  armorial  biarings  of  lliut  house  is  tongocleMt 
and  is,  by-llie-bye,  one  of  the  most  good-tempered  looking  bessis  ever 

Romance  and  ideality  out  of  the  question,  William  de  Albini  w«s  wtt 
inly  n  knight  sotm  priir  tt  sans  reproeht,  stout  in  combat,  and  consUnl 
u  loyally  atid  love,  but  history  proves  him  to  have  been  <>iie  of  lb 
greatest  and  best  men  of  iliai  age.  His  virtues  a:id  lalents  suifieii 
justified  the  widow  of  the  mighty  sovereign  of  England  ami  Kog 
in  bestowing  her  hand  upon  him ;  nor  was  Adelicia^  second  i; 
in  the  slightest  degree  oiTensive  lo  the  subjects  of  her  late  I 
considered  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  a  queen-dowager  of  £ngti 

•  Ibid. 
■DuKiIale'iBuoi 


ist  wonu 


ADKI.ICIA     OF     LOUVAIXE.  137 

Addina^  hy  hfv  union  with  Albini,  conveyed  to  him  a  life  iiilereEl  in 
her  ricli  ilowry  ofAniniiel.  anil  he  accordingly  aisHuiued  ihe  tille  of  enrl 
of  AniiiU^I.  in  her  rigiii,  as  the  possessor  of  Acundel  Cusile.'  It  was  at 
this  feudal  fodms,  on  (he  iheii  solitary  coast  of  Sussex,  that  the  royal 
baauly.  «ho  had  for  fifleen  years  presided  over  the  splendid  court  of 
Hnrj  Beaoclerc,  voluniarily  resided  with  her  iccond  husband  —  the 
bubwid,  doubtless,  of  her  heiirt — in  the  peaceful  obscurity  of  domestic 
h^pituiM.  far  remold  from  the  scenes  of  her  former  greatness. 

Addicia'a  ni&doo)  iu  avoiding  all  the  snares  of  party,  by  retiring  from 
pttblic  Ufa  at  a  period  so  full  of  perilous  excitement  as  the  early  part  of 
Strphen's  reign,  cannot  be  disputed.  Her  gentle  disposition,  her  good 
lute,  aod  feminine  feelings,  fitted  her  for  the  enjoyments  of  private  life, 
ud  the  tiiadc  them  her  choice. 

Tbero  was,  however,  nothing  of  a  seliish  chnracler  in  the  conduct  of 
the  loyikl  matron  in  declining  to  exert  such  influence  as  she  posseted  in 
•dvueating  the  claims  of  her  slep-ilaughler  Matilda  to  the  throne  of 
Eoghnd.  As  a  queen-dowager.  Adelicia  had  no  voice  in  the  choice  of  a 
toTWMgn  ;  as  a  female,  she  would  have  departed  from  her  province,  had 
lbs  intermeddled  with  intrigues  of  stale,  even  for  the  purpose  of  aseisi- 
isg  tht  lawful  heir  to  tlie  crown.  She  lelt  the  question  lo  be  decided  by 
llw  pMn  and  people  of  England;  and  as  they  did  not  oppose  the  ci  to- 
nam  of  Slephen,  she  bad  no  pretence  for  iulerfering ;  but  Gtie  never 
MBCtioned  the  usurpation  of  the  successful  rival  of  her  step-daughter  s 
ngbt,  by  appearing  at  his  court.  And  when  the  empress  Matilda  la  ided 
in  EaglBnd,  lo  dispute  the  crown  with  Stephen,  the  gates  of  Irundel 
Chtlle  wer«  Uirown  open  to  receive  her  and  her  train,  by  the  royal  ^ile- 
licit  and  her  high-minded  husband  Albini.*  It  was  in  the  jear  1139 
when  this  perilous  guest  claimed  the  hospitality,  and  finsJly  the  protec- 
Iwtti  of  Uie  Doble  pair,  whose  weilded  happiness  had  been  rendered  more 
farfect  by  the  birth  of  a  son,  probably  very  little  before  that  period,  for 
a  vu  only  in  the  second  year  of  their  marriage.  And  she,  over  whose 
MB  aa  the  consort  of  the  mightiest  monarch  of  the  Weet,  both 
»  and  people  had  lamented  for  nearly  fifieeii  years,  became,  when 
tba  wife  of  a  subject,  the  mother  of  a  numerous  progeny,  the  ancestress 
of  an  Qlustriiius  line  of  English  nobles,  in  whose  veins  her  royal  blood 
has  bscn  prewrvei)  in  uninterrupted  course  lo  the  present  day. 

According  lo  Malmsbury,  and  many  other  hbtorians,  the  empress 
Halikk  waa  only  attended  by  her  brother,  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  and  a 
hondrad  and  forty  followers,  when  she  lauded  at  Portsmouth,  in  the 
lutar  and  of  Srpiembcr.  Gervase  and  Brompton  aver  that  she  came 
wilil  S  niUUnroue  army ;  hut  the  general  bearings  of  history  prove  that 
ttH  wtt  not  dte  Iticl,  since  Matilda  was  evidently  in  a  state  of  aliBnlute 
INtil  wbcn  hfr  generous  step-moiher  allbrded  her  an  asylum  within 
ife  wall*  of  Anindel  Castle,  for  we  lind  that  her  devoted  friend  and 
I  fcntber*  Robert  earl  of  Gloucester,  when  he  saw  that  she  was  honours- 


I 


I 


'  IM  AnBLICIA     or     LOUVALXB. 

biy  ret^rirei)  there,  considered  lier  iii  a  jiluce  of  csTeiy,  and,  attendMl  hj 
only  twelve  persons,  prorcetlei)  to  Bitslol. 

No  sooner  was  Stephen  inrnnned  t)int  the  empress  >lMilda  wa>  n 
Ariindel  Cosile,  ihan  he  mised  the  siege  of  Mnrl borough,  and  cob- 
mencecl  a  rapid  march  towards  Araiiilei,  in  order  to  attack  her  in  htf 
retreat.     The  epirJi  with  which  he  pushed  his  operations  alamieil  the 
royal  ladies.'    Adelicia  dreaded  ihe  deatruciion  of  her  casile.  ihi-  li«i  of 
her  ticloved  bosband,  and  the  breaking  up  of  all  tlie  domf-^     ' 
ahe  had  enjoyed  nince  her  retirement  from  public  life.      ' 
Matilda  Birflcred  some  apprehension  lest  her  gentle  atep-ir 
be  induced  to  deliver  her  into  ihe  hands  of  her  foe.     Tli^ 
ever,  no  lesa  linnneas  than  ^nileness  in  the  character  ul~    ^ 
the   moment  Stephen   approached   her   walls,  she   sent   n- 
entreat  his  forbearance,  assuring'  him  ''■that  she  had  ailn 

not  as  ^  enemy,  but  as  her  daughter-in-law  and  early  frii.u.. _ 

claimed  her  hoapitality,  which  respect  for  the  raemoiy  of  her  late  tojji 
lord,  king  Henry,  forbade  her  lo  refuse  ^  the  same  considentioiu  wooid 
i;ompel  her  to  protect  her,  while  she  remaine<l  beneath  tlie  ■Iwjutd' 
her  roof."'  Adelicia  added, '•  that  if  he  came  in  hostile  array  agaaM 
her  castle  of  Antndel,  with  intent  to  make  Matilda  hia  priaoorr,  ibt 
must  frankly  say,  that  she  was  resolved  to  defend  her  to  the  IM 
extremity,  not  only  because  she  was  the  daughter  of  her  Ute  dnu*  ionl, 
king  Henry,  but  as  the  widow  of  the  emperor  Henry  and  her  gmtif 
and  she  besought  Stephen,  '^  by  all  the  laws  of  courtesy  and  the  tin  o( 
kindred,  nut  to  place  her  in  auch  a  painful  stmil  as  to  compel  hci  to  da 
anything  against  her  cuitfcience."  In  conclusion,  she  requested  vuli 
much  earnestness  "  thai  Matilda  might  he  allowed  to  leave  the  caailc 
and  retire  to  her  brother."' 

Stephen  acceded  to  the  proposal,  the  siege  was  raised,  and  tlie  emprtM 
proceeded  to  join  her  adherents  at  Urislol.  Malmsbury  assures  ui,  that 
the  impolitic  conduct  of  Stephen  on  this  occasion  was  nothing  iDon 
than  what  the  laws  of  chivaJrv  demanded  from  every  true  knight 

We  are  inclined  to  regard  Stephen's  courteous  compliance  with  tb 
Bomewhal  unreasonable  prayer  of  tlie  queen-dowager,  as  a  proof  of  tin 
high  respect  in  which  she  was  held,  and  (he  great  influence  over  tin 
ininda  of  her  royal  husband's  kindred,  which  Iter  virtues  and  wiaaia| 
qualities  had  obtained  while  ahe  wore  the  crown-matriiuonial  of  Ei^ 
land.  AdeUcia  conducted  herself  with  equal  prudence  and  mngnaitiad^ 
in  the  defence  and  deliverance  of  her  step-daughter,  eihihitine  a  tcri 
laudable  mixture  of  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  with  the  innocence  « 
the  dove  and  the  couiage  of  the  lion.  The  lion  was  the  cogniionca  d 
(lie  royal  house  of  Louvaine  \  and  Mr.  Howard  is  of  opinion,  that  lUi 
proud  bearing  was  assumed  by  the  family  of  Albioi,  in  token  of  detont 
from  the  fair  maid  of  Brvbant,  rather  than  with  any  reference  to  ibt 
lUiIeil  exploit  of  her  second  hnaband,  related  in  Dugdale's  butmaM.* 
■  '  "  ephenTla  ■B 


L 


A  grateful  remembrance  of  the  generous  conduct  of  Stephen,  ni 


ADXLICIA    OF    LOUTAINX.  139 

babilitj  withheld  Adellcia  and  Albini  from  taking  part  with  the 
yress  Matilda  against  hini)  in  the  long  and  disastrous  civil  war  which 
olated  the  ravaged  plains  of  England  with  kindred  blood,  during  so 
ij  years  of  that  inauspicious  reign.  They  appear  to  have  main- 
ed  a  strict  neutrality,  and  to  have  preserved  their  vassals  and  neigh- 
rs  from  the  evils  attendant  upon  the  contest  between  the  empress 
the  king. 

idelicia,  after  her  happy  marriage  with  the  husband  of  her  choice, 
not  forgetful  of  the  respect  which  she  considered  due  to  the  memory 
ler  late  royal  lord,  king  Henry ;  for,  by  a  third  charter,  she  granted 
lis  fevonrite  abbey  of  Reading  the  church  of  Berkeley  Harness  in 
ucestershire,'  with  suitable  endowments,  ^^  to  pray  for  the  soul  of 
I  Henry  and  duke  Godfrey  her  father,  and  also  for  the  health  of  her 
lent  lord,"  whom  she  styles,  ^  William  earl  of  Chichester,  and  for 
own  hodth,  and  the  he&lth  of  her  children."  Thus  we  observe 
this  amiable  princess  unites  the  departed  objects  of  her  veneration 
be  devotional  offices  which  she  fondly  caused  the  monks  of  Reading 
tfler  up,  for  the  welfare  of  her  living  husband,  her  beloved  children, 
herself.  To  her  third  son,  Adelicia  gave  the  name  of  her  deceased 
ry  king  Henry.  Her  fourth  was  named  Godfrey,  after  her  fiither  and 
T  brother,  the  reigning  duke  of  Brabant 

idelicia  chiefly  resided  at  Arundel  Castle,  after  her  marriage  with 
liam  de  Albini,  but  there  is  also  traditional  evidence,  that  she  occa- 
tally  lived  with  him  in  the  noble  feudal  castle,  which  he  built,  after 
marriage  with  her,  at  Buckenham  in  Norfolk.  It  is  still  designated 
ihat  county,  as  JVTeto  Buckenham,  though  the  mound,  part  of  the 
it,  and  a  few  mouldering  fragments  of  the  walls,  are  all  Uiat  remain 
he  once  stately  ball,  that  was  at  times  graced  with  the  dowager 
rt  oi  Alix  la  Belle. 

*he  priory  of  St.  Bartholomew,  likewise  called  the  priory  of  the 
seway,  in  the  parish  of  Lyminster,  near  Arundel,  was  established  by 
en  Adelicia,  after  her  marriage  with  William  de  Albini,  as  a  convent 
iugnstinian  canons.'  It  was  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  which 
riooks  the  town  from  the  south  side  of  the  river. 
'he  number  of  inmates  appears  originally  to  have  been  limited  by 
Tojdl  foundress  to  two  persons,  whose  principal  business  was  to 
i  charge  of  the  bridge,  and  to  preserve  the  passage  of  the  river.  All 
gifts  and  charters  were  solemnly  confirmed  by  her  husband,  William 
Ini,  who  appears  to  have  cherished  the  deepest  respect  for  his  royal 
ise,  always  speaking  of  her  as  ^  eximia  regina^'* —  that  is,  inestima- 
or  surpassingly  excellent  queen.' 

iTe  find,  from  the  Monasticon,  that  Adelicia  gave  in  trust  to  the 
op  of  Chichester  certain  lands  in  Arundel,  to  provide  salaries  for 
payment  of  two  chaplains  to  celebrate  divine  service  in  that  castle, 
last  recorded  act  of  Adelicia  was  the  grant  of  the  prebend  of  West 
n  to  the  cathedral  of  Chichester,  in  1150. 

^  MonuticoD,  Charter  9.    Howard  Memorials. 

*  Dugdale't  Monasticon.    Lib.  Epist  B.  vol.  xviiL  *  Dad. 


I 
I 

\ 

I 


14ft  ADELICIA    OF    lOCVAtXB. 

In  the  year  1149,  a  yountrer  brother  of  Adelicia,  UeQry  ofLonniM, 
wns  professed  a  monk  in  ihe  monastery  of  AlHighnin,  near  Altwl  in 
FItuidcrs,  wliich  bad  been  founded  by  (heir  father  Godfrey,  and  bis  bru- 
iher  Henry  of  Louvaine;  and  soon  after,  the  royal  Adelicia  hfradl,' 
eiimulaied  no  doubt  by  his  example,  withdrew  not  only  from  the  pomp* 
and  parade  of  earthly  grandeur,  but  from  the  endearments  of  her  adonn; 
husband  and  youthful  progeny,  and,  crossing  the  sea,  retired  to  the  unfr 
nery  in  the  same  foundation,  where  she  ended  her  days,'  and  wu  like- 
wise buried.' 

Mr.  Howard,  in  his  interesting  sketirli  of  the  life  of  bis  royal  ance*- 
tress,  slates  it  to  be  bis  opinion,  that  Adelieia  did  not  take  this  importani 
Btep  without  the  full  consent  of  her  husband.  Strange  as  it  appears  to 
us,  that  any  one  who  was  at  the  very  summit  of  earlliiy  felicity  should 
have  broken  through  such  fond  ties  of  conjugal  and  mntern^  lo»«  ta 
those  by  which  Adelicia  was  surrounded,  to  bury  herself  in  cloiatered 
seclnsioD,  there  is  indubitable  evidence  that  such  was  the  lacL 

Sanilerue,  in  his  Account  of  the  Abbeys  and  Churches  of  Brabant, 
relates  that  ^  Fulgentius,  the  abbot  of  AM^ham,  visited  queen  Adelicia 
at  the  court  of  her  royal  husband,  Henry  !.;  where  he  was  received 
with  especial  honours."  The  same  aathor  expressly  states,  that  Adelidi 
died  in  the  convent  of  AfHighara,  and  was  interred  there  on  the  9th  of 
the  calends  of  April-  He  does  not  give  the  date  of  the  year.  From  the 
mortuary  of  the  abbey,  he  quotes  the  following  Latin  record  of  tbi 
death  of  this  queen ;  * 

"Aleiilem  genuit  cum  borba  dm  Godefrddus, 
Que  fait  Angiorum  i^ina  piiaiima  rouium." 

The  annals  of  Margan  date  this  event  in  the  year  1 151. 

There  is  a  charter  in  Affligham,  granted  by  Hemy  of  Louvaine,  on 
condition  tliat  prayera  may  be  eaid,  for  the  welfare  of  his  brother  God- 
frey, the  reigning  duke,  his  sister  Aleyda  the  queen,  and  Ida,  the  counter 
of  Cleres,  and  their  parents.* 

Adelicia  must  have  been  about  forty-eight  years  old  at  the  time  of  h(r 
death.  She  had  been  married  eleven  years,  or  thereabouts,  to  Willitia 
de  Albini,  Lord  of  Buckenham.  At  hia  paternal  domain  of  New  Bntk- 
enham  in  Norfolk,  a  foundation  was  granted  by  William  de  Albiiii  of 
the  Strong  Arm,  enjoining  that  prayers  might  be  said  for  the  <leptti1«d 
spirit  of  his  eiimia  regirta.  He  survived  her  long  enough  to  be  tbt 
happy  means  of  composing,  by  an  amicable  treaty,  the  dealh-etrifs  wturil 
bad  convulsed  England  for  fifteen  years,  in  consequence  of  the  bhmltf 
succession  war  between  Stephen  and  the  empress  Matilda.* 

This  great  and  good  man  is  buried  in  Wymondham  Abb(>y,  near  Af 
tomb  of  his  father,  the  Pincema  of  Engiand  and  Normandy. 

I3y  her  marrtage  with  Albini,  Adelicia  became  the  mother  of  tent 
surviving  children.  William  earl  of  Anmdel,  who  suoceeded  to  At 
csiates  and  honours ;  Reyner ;  Henry ;  Godfrey ;  Alice,  married  to  lh« 

'  Bntkon'o  iiopbi«  du  HnlMiii.  Ibid. 

*  Sandenu'a  Abbeji  and  Churcbea  in  Bialnnt.  *  Ibid. 

'Howmrd  MeworiaiM.        '  Tbii  will  ba  detailed  in  the  luooeediBK  biognffef. 


ADXLICIA    OF    LOUVAINB. 


141 


count  d^u ;  Olim ;  Agatha.    The  two  latter  were  buried  at  Boxgrove, 
near  Arundel. 

Though  Adelicia  had  so  many  children  by  her.  secocd  marriage,  her 
tender  a&ction  for  her  father's  &mily  caused  her  to  send  for  her  younger 
brother,  Joceline  of  Louvaine,  to  share  in  her  prosperity  and  happiness ; 
and  the  munificent  earl,  her  husband,  to  enable  this  landless  prince  to 
mtnr  adTantageously,  gave  him  the  fair  domain  of  Petworth,  on  his 
wedmnff  Agnes,  the  heiress  of  the  Percies :  ^  since  which,"  says  Cam- 
den, ^  me  posterity  of  that  Joceline,  who  took  the  name  of  Percy,  have 
ever  poescaeed  it-«a  &mily  certainly  very  ancient  and  noble,  the  male 
wpeacntatiTes  of  Charlemiagne,  more  direct  than  the  dukes  of  Guise, 
who  pride  themselTea  <m  that  account  Joceline,  in  a  donation  of  his 
whieh  I  have  seen,  uses  this  title :  ^  Joceline  of  Louvaine,  brother  to 
(jueen  Adelida,  OMtellaina  of  Arundel.' " 

Two  ducal  peers  of  England  are  now  the  representatives  of  the  im- 
perial Garlovingian  line — ^namely,  the  duke  of  Norfolk,  the  heir  of  queen 
Adelicia;  and  the  duke  of  Northumberland,  the  lineal  descendant  of  her  ' 
bfodier  Joceline  of  Louvaine. 

The  two  most  unfortunate  of  all  the  queens  of  England,  Anna  Boleyn 
and  Katharine  Howard,  were  the  lineal  descendants  of  Adelicia,  by  her 
seeood  marriage  with  William  de  AlbinL 


MATILDA  OF  BOULOGNE. 

QUEEN   OF  STEPHEN. 


I 


U»ilila't  deecenl  from  Saxon  Iuqeb — Her  moibet  >  Saxon  princei* — H«  Uikm 
—MbIiMb  cspouMd  IS  Sicpbrn  of  Bloit— Rrsldcsace  at  Towcr-Roxnl— Mull- 
da'«  popularity  in  London — Stephen  seizes  the  throne — Birth  nf  priTiri;  Emtirii 
— Coronnlion  or  Malildn — Queen  left  regent — Disasteri — Queen  (."---l--'  i1">— 
Cutle — Medi»te»  peaoe  with  her  uncle — Bniptefs  Matilda  iani- 
— Heniy  of  Bloii — Civil  war — Quern  puis  lo  France — SiairiH^. 
heir — Knifes  an  army — Slrpben  OHpltireil — Arrogance  of  eiiii 
grief — Elerlioiu  in  Slephen's  enuee— Queen  Matilda  writei  i(    i 
Her  >I^>pUcaIion  for  Siepben'e  libany — Obilunic;  of  empreas —  ' ' 
,       loann* — E^prws  id  Winchefiei — Herieat — Inaultj  LondcQcr-  - 
London-^-SDccesies  of  the  queen — Takea  Wincheiier — E«(i[.,- 
Sat]  of  Gloucexct  taken — Eiflianged  for  Stephen — Illness  of  .  i 

Emprass  escape*  from  0»ft>rd — Her  son — Decline  ofemprcss.,  ..,^.,^ .,..-._ 

Matilda  fbimds  Sl  Kadierine  hf  the  Tower— Death  of  ths  quc-eu — &i[.w- 
Tonih— Epitaph— Children— Eutiace— Death  of  king  Stephen— Burial  hf  hn 
queen — EzhuuiatiDn  of  their  bodiei. 

Matilda  of  Boulogne,  the  last  of  our  Anglo-Nonnan  (jtieeas,  wu  I 
princess  of  ihe  ancient  royal  line  of  English  monarrhs.  Her  mother, 
Mary  of  Scotland,  wag  the  seconi)  daughter  of  Malcolm  Conmnrc  and 
Margsrel  Atheling,  and  sister  to  Matilda  the  Good,  the  first  queeo  cl 
Henry  Beauclerc.  Alary  of  Scotland  was  educated  with  her  elder  lelit, 
in  ilie  royal  monasteries  of  Wilton  and  Rumsey,  under  the  stem  tnlel^i 
of  iheir  aunt  Christina;  and  woa  doubtless,  like  the  princess  Malilifa, 
compelled  to  assume  the  habit  of  a  Tolaress.  Whether  llie  youifafid 
Mary  lestiljed  the  same  lively  antipathy  to  the  coneecrated  black  ral, 
that  was  exhibited  by  her  elder  sister,  no  gossiping  monasLje  chrotiidcr 
has  recorded ;  but  she  certainly  forfiook  the  cloister,  for  the  court  of 
England,  on  Matilda's  auspicious  nuptials  with  Henry  I.,  and  exclHa|ld 
the  t«dge  of  celilmcy  for  the  nuptial  rin^  soon  aflerwarda,  wbtn  Iw 
royal  brother-in-law  gave  her  in  marriage  to  Eustace,  i;ount  of  Boi^ 

The  father  of  this  nobleman  was  brother-in-law  to  Edward  tlie  Coe> 
fessor,  having  married  Goda,  the  widowed  countess  of  Mantes,  etsier  to 
that  monarch;  both  himself  and  his  son  Eustace  had  been  poweiful 
supporters  of  the  Saxon  cause.  The  enterprising  spirit  of  the  conDU 
of  Boulogne,  and  the  contiguity  of  their  dominions  to  tlie  Envliih 
shores,  had  rendered  them  troublesome  neighbours  to  William  the  Coih 
(lucrnr  and  his  sons,  lill  the  chivalric  spirit  of  crusading  attracted  ili«ir 
encieies  to  a  different  channel,  and  converted  these  pirates  of  the  ni 
«e8s  into  heroes  of  the  cross,  and  liberators  of  the  holy  city. 

Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  the  hero  of  Tasso's  Gierusahme  Lihgrata,iai 
hlf  hrothPz  Baldwin,  who  successively  wore  the  crowa  of  ierunlni  J 


the  Coo- 
rled  lll«ir 

c  narro*     I 

raUfiai    f 
'ruidni  J 


XATILDA    OF    BOVLOONX.  143 

were  the  nnclefl  of  Matilda,  Stephen's  queen.  Her  father,  Eustace  count 
of  Boulogne,  was  also  a  distinguished  crusader.  He  must  have  been  a 
mature  husband  for  Mary  of  Scotland,  since  he  was  the  companion  in 
•nns  of  Robert  of  Normandy,  and  her  uncle  Edgar  Atheling.  Matilda, 
or,  as  she  is  sometimes  called  for  brevity,  Maud  of  Boulogne,  was  the 
fole  of&pring  of  this  marriage,  and  the  heiress  of  this  illustrious  house. 

There  is  every  reason  to  believe  Matilda  was  educated  in  the  abbey 
of  Bermondsey,  to  which  the  countess  of  Boulogne,  her  mother,  was  a 
munificent  benefitctress.  The  countess  died  in  this  abbey  while  on  a 
visit  to  England,  in  the  year  1115,  and  was  buried  there.  We  gather 
from  the  Latin  Terses  on  her  tomb,  that  she  was  a  lady  of  very  noble 
qualities,  and  that  her  death  was  very  painful  and  unexpected.' 

Tonnff  as  Matilda  was,  she  was  certainly  espousea  to  Stephen  de 
Blois  b^ore  her  mother's  decease ;  for  this  plain  reason,  that  the  charter 
by  which  the  countess  of  Boulogne,  in  the  year  1114,  grants  to  the 
CXugniac  monks  of  Bennondsey  her  manor  of  Kynewardstone,  is,  in  the 
jmr  she  died,  confiraied  by  Eustace  her  husband,  and  Stephen  her  son- 
iii4aw.*  Stephen,  the  third  son  of  a  vassal  peer  of  France,  obtained  this 
gnat  match  through  the  fiivour  of  his  royal  uncle,  Henry  I.  He  inherited 
from  the  royal  Adela,  his  mother,  the  splendid  talents,  fine  person,  and 
enterprising  spirit  of  the  mighty  Norman  line  of  sovereigns.  A  very 
tender  friendship  had  subsisted  between  Adela,  countess  of  Blois,  and 
her  brother,  Henry  Beauclerc,  who  at  different  periods  of  his  life  had 
been  under  important  obligations  to  her ;  and  when  Adela  sent  her  land- 
less boy  to  seek  his  fortunes  at  the  court  of  England,  Henry  returned 
the  friendly  offices  which  he  had  received  from  this  faithful  sister,  by 
lavishing  wealth  and  honour  on  her  son. 

Stephen  received  the  spurs  of  knighthood  from  his  uncle  king  Henry, 
previous  to  the  batde  of  Tinchebraye,  where  he  took  the  count  of  Mor- 
tigne  prisoner,  and  received  the  investiture  of  his  lands.  He  was  farther 
rewaroed  by  his  royal  kinsman  with  the  hand  of  Matilda,  the  heiress  of 
Boulogne.* 

^  when  Stephen  was  but  an  earl,''  says  William  of  Malmsbury,  ^  he 
gained  the  auctions  of  the  people,  to  a  degree  that  can  scarcely  be 
imagined,  by  the  affiibility  of  his  manners,  and  the  wit  and  pleasantry 
of  his  conversation,  condescending  to  chat  and  joke  with  persons  in  the 
humblest  stations,  as  well  as  with  the  nobles,  who  delighted  in  his  com- 
pany, and  attached  themselves  to  his  cause  from  personal  regard."^ 

Stephen  was  count  of  Boulogne  in  Matilda's  right,  when,  as  count  of 
Mortagne,  he  swore  fisalty  in  11 26  to  the  empress  Matilda,  as  heiress  to 
the  Norman  dominions  of  Henry  I. 

The  London  residence  of  Stephen  and  Matilda  was  Tower-Royal,  a 
palace  built  by  king  Henry,  and  presented  by  him  to  his  favoured  nephew, 
on  the  occaaion  of  his  wedding  the  niece  of  his  queen  Matilda  Atheling. 
The  spot  to  which  this  regal-sounding  name  is  still  appended,  is  a  close 
lane  between  Chespside  and  Watling  Street   Tower^Royal  was  a  fortress 


>  Hist.  Bermondsey  Abbey.  *  Annales  AbbatiB  Bermondsey. 

"  Oiderieus  Yitalis.  *  W.  Malmsbnry.    Ordeiicaft  YiAbWu 


I 


I   AM  MATILDA    OF    DDILOGNE. 

of  prodiipous  sirengili ;  for  more  ilinn  once,  when  ihe  Tower  of  Lowui 
itself  fell  into  the  hands  of  ilie  rebels,  ihis  einbaiiW  palace  of  Stephen 
remained  in  security.' 

Il  IK  a  remarkable  faci,  that  Stephen  hai  embarked  an  board  ifat 
Bltmekt  ,Vcf,  with  his  royal  cousin,  William  the  Atheling,  nnd  tlic  ml 
of  her  fated  crew;  but  with  two  knights  of  his  train,  and  a  few  othcn 
vho  prudently-  followed  his  example,  he  left  the  vessel  with  lite  recntrk 
thai  "she  was  too  much  crowded  wiili  foolish,  headstrong  young 
people."' 

After  the  death  of  prince  William,  Stephen's  influence  with  his  rwil 
uncle  became  unbounded,  and  he  was  his  constant  companion  in  all  hii 
voyages  to  Normandy. 

There  are  evidences  of  conjugal  infidelity  on  the  part  of  this  gay  and 
gallant  young  prince,  about  this  period,  proving  that  Matilda's  rup  iJ 
happiness  was  not  without  tome  alloy  of  bitterness.  How  far  faerptMC 
was  affected  by  the  scandalous  repoits  of  the  passion  which  Iter  haughty 
cousin  the  empress  Matilda,  the  acknowledged  heiress  of  England  «od 
Normandy,  was  said  lo  cherish  for  her  aspiring  husband,  we  annoi 
presutne  to  say ;  but  there  was  an  angel-like  spirit  in  this  princess,  wtiieii 
supported  her  under  every  trial,  and  rendered  her  a  beautiful  example  la 
every  royal  female  in  the  marriod  state. 

Two  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  were  bom  to  the  young  earl  and 
countess  of  Boulogne,  during  king  Henry's  reign.  The  boy  was  nanKat 
Baldn'in,  afler  Matdda's  uncle,  the  king  of  Jerusalem;  —  a  Saxon  nUM 
wilhal.  and  therefore  likely  to  sound  pleasantly  to  the  ears  of  the  I^ 
lish,  who,  no  doubt,  looked  with  complacency  on  the  infant  heir  « 
Boulogne,  as  the  son  of  a  princess  of  the  royal  Atheling  blood,  bcni 
among  them,  and  educated  by  his  amiable  mother  to  veaemle  thtir 
ancient  laws,  and  to  speak  their  language.  Prince  Baldwin,  howe*tfi 
died  in  early  childhood,  and  was  interred  in  the  priory  of  the  Holy 
Trinity,  without  Aldgate,  founded  by  his  royal  aunt,  Matilda  of  Scot- 
land. The  second  child  of  Stepheu  and  Matilda,  a  daughter  naniad 
Maud,  )>om  also  in  the  reign  of  Henry  I.,  died  young,  and  was  buried 
in  the  same  church.  Some  historians  aver  that  Maud  survived  loa| 
enough  to  be  espoused  lo  the  earl  of  Milan. 

So  dear  was  the  memory  of  these,  her  buried  hopes,  to  the  heart  of 
Matilda,  that  afler  she  became  queen  of  England,  and  her  loss  ww  VO^ 
plied  hv  the  birth  of  another  son  and  daughter,  she  continued  to  laaxU 
for  them;  and  the  Church  and  Hospital  of  St.  Katlierine  by  the  Tower 
were  founded  and  endowed  by  her,  that  prayers  might  be  perpeiiisllT 
said  by  the  pious  sisterhood  for  the  repose  of  the  soula  of  her  tirst^Kni 
children. 

In  the  latter  days  of  king  Henry,  while  Stephen  was  engageil  in  steal- 
ing the  hearts  of  the  men  of  England,  al\er  the  &shion  of  Absalom,  thr 
mild  virtues  of  his  amiable  consort  recalled  to  their  remembnace  ha 
royal  aunt  and  namesake,  Henry's  first  queen,  and  inspired  ibem  wiilia 
trembling  hope  of  seeing  her  pbce  filled  eventually  by  a  priocoa  ■> 

'Slovre'c  SDivey.     Penaam't  LottdoD.  '  Otdariout  ViMlH. 


MATILDA    OF     DOtJLOONB.  145 

mach  more  resembling  her  than  the  haughty  wife  of  Geoffrey  of  Anjou 
The  Norman  woman  looked  upon  her  mother^s  people  with  scDrn,  and 
from  her  they  had  nothing  to  expect  but  the  iron  yoke  which  her  grand- 
father, the  Conqueror,  had  laid  upon  their  necks,  with,  perhaps,  an  aggra- 
facioii  of  their  miseries.  But  Stephen,  the  husband  of  her  gentli*  cousin, 
the  English -hearted  Matilda,  had  whispered  in  their  ears  of  the  con- 
firmatioo  of  the  great  charter  of  their  liberties,  which  Henry  of  Normandy 
had  granted  when  he  became  the  husband  of  the  descendant  of  their  an- 
cient kings,  and  broken,  when  her  influence  was  destroyed  by  death  and 
I  foreign  marriage. 

King  Henry ^8  daughter,  the  empress  Matilda,^  was  the  wife  of  a  foreign 
prince  residing  on  the  Continent.  Stephen  and  his  amiable  princess  were 
living  in  London,  and  daily  endearing  themselves  to  the  people,  by  the 
roost  popular  and  affiible  behaviour.  The  public  mind  was  certainly 
predisposed  in  &vour  of  Stephen's  designs,  when  the  sudden  death  of 
kinz  Henry  in  Normandy  lef^  the  right  of  succession  for  the  first  time  to 
I  female  heir.  Piers  of  Langtof^  thus  describes  the  perplexity  of  the 
aation  respecting  the  choice  of  the  sovereign : — 

**  On  bier  laj  king  Henry, 
On  bier  beyond  the  sea ; 
And  no  man  might  rightly  know 
Who  hit  heir  suld  be.'* 

Stephen,  following  the  example  of  the  deceased  monarch's  conduct  at 
the  time  of  his  brother  Rufus's  death,'  lefl  his  royal  uncle  and  benefac- 
tor's obsequies  to  the  care  of  Robert  earl  of  Gloucester,  and  the  other 
peers  who  were  witnesses  to  his  last  words ;  and  embarking  at  White- 
nnd,  a  small  port  in  Matilda's  dominions,  in  a  light  vessel,  on  a  wintry 
sea,  he  landed  at  Dover,  in  the  midst  of  such  a  storm  of  thunder  and 
lightning,  tliat,  according  to  William  of  Malmsbury,  every  one  imagined 
the  world  was  coming  to  an  end.  As  soon  as  he  arrived  in  London,  he 
convened  an  assembly  of  the  Anglo-Norman  barons  before  whom  his 
confederate  and  friend,  Hugh  Bigod,  the  steward  of  king  Henry's  house 
hold,  swore  on  the  holy  Evangelists,  '*  that  the  deceased  sovereign  hau 
disinherited  the  empress  Matilda  on  his  death-bed,  and  adopted  his  most 
dear  nephew  Stephen  for  his  heir."' 

On  this  bold  affirmation,  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  absolved  the 
peers  of  the  oatlis  of  fealty  they  had  twice  sworn  to  the  daughter  of  their 
late  sovereign — and  declared  ^  that  those  oaths  were  null  and  void,  and 
contrary,  moreover,  to  the  laws  and  customs  of  the  English,  who  had 
never  permitted  a  woman  to  reign  over  them." 

This  was  a  futile  argnment,  as  no  female  had  ever  stood  in  that  im- 
portant position,  with  r^rd  to  the  succession  to  the  crown  of  England, 
in  which  the  empress  Jnatilda  was  now  placed;  therefore  no  preosdent 
hid  occurred  for  the  establishment  of  a  salique  law  in  England. 

Stephen  was  crowned  on  the  26th  of  December,  his  name-day,  the 
feut  of  St  Stephen.*    He  swore  to  establish  the  righteous  laws  of 

'The  Biography  of  the  empretfl  Matilda  is  continued  through  this  life. 
*Malmtbnry.     'Malmsbury.    Rapin.     *  Sir  Harris  NiooLChronoloft^^^''^'^* 
TOL.I.~I3  K 


I 


I 


vIM  MATILDA    OF     BOLLDOKE. 

Eilwanl  the  confe»stir,  for  llie  general  liappinpss  of  all  cIbbbm  oT  hi«  nih- 
jec.ls.'  The  Eiigliah  regarded  Siephen's  union  with  a  priiicm  of  tluv 
nee  as  the  bon  pledge  of  the  Biaerriiy  of  his  profesaioru  in  n^rd  u>  ih« 
ameliorBlioQ  of  iheir  condition.  These  hopes  were,  of  course,  increaMj 
by  the  birth  of  prince  Enstnce,  whom  Matilda  brought  into  the  world 
Tory  soon  after  her  hiwhanU's  accession  lo  the  throne  of  EngUnJ.  h 
was,  perhaps,  this  auspicious  event  that  prevented  Matilda  from  htin^ 
asiocialed  in  the  coronation  of  her  lord  on  Si.  Stephen's  day,  in  V!ttH- 
minsier  Abbey.  Her  own  coronation,  according  to  Geri'aBe.  took  pbc« 
March  22d,  1 136,  being  Easter  Sunday,  not  quite  three  months  aftM- 
wards.  Stephen  was  better  enabled  to  support  the  ex|>ense9  of  a  splendid 
cerenioniol  in  honour  of  his  beloved  queen,  having,  immediately  >ft*t 
his  own  hasty  tnaugumiion,  posted  to  Wiiichesier  and  itiadc  fatoiMlf 
master  of  the  treasurj'  of  his  dereosetl  uncle  king  Heni^-;  which  eo* 
tained,  says  Malmshury,  ^  one  hundred  thousand  pounds,  besides  Hon 
of  plate  and  jewels." 

Tlie  empress  Matilda  was  in  Anjou  at  the  time  of  her  father's  twUtt 
demise.  She  was  entirely  occupied  by  the  grievous  airkums  of  hv 
nusband,  who  was  snpposed  to  be  on  his  dcath-bed.'  AfWr  the  eonnte- 
ceneeof  her  lord,  as  none  of  her  parliaans  in  England  made  the  slightM 
movement  in  her  favour,8he  remained  quiescent  for  a  season,  well  know* 
ing  that  the  excessive  popularity  of  a  new  monarrh  is  seldom  of  loo; 
eontiniiance  in  England.  Stephen  had  begun  well  by  abolnhing  dane- 
ge1t,aDd  leaving  the  game  in  the  woods,  forests,  and  uncultivated  watts, 
common  to  all  his  sunjects ;  but  afler  awhile  he  repented  of  hia  libeal 
policy,  and  called  courts  of  inquiry  lo  moke  men  give  occohqi  of  iht 
damage  and  loss  he  had  sustained  in  his  fallow  deer  and  other  wild 
game;  he  likewise  enforced  the  offensive  syaleni  of  the  other  KomuB 
monarcha  for  iheir  preservation. 

Next  he  obtained  the  enmity  of  the  clergy,  by  seizing  the  rerennet 
of  the  see  of  Canterbur;-;  and  lastly,  to  the  great  nlaim  and  dctrinMHi 
of  the  peacefully  disposed,  he  imprudently  permitted  his  nobles  to  bniU 
or  fortify  upwards  of  a  thousand  of  those  strongholds  of  wrong  oin]  mt>- 
bery  called  castles,  which  rendered  tlieir  uwocis  in  a  grral  mcwon 
mdependent  of  the  crown. 

Baldwin  de  Redvera,  earl  of  Devonshire,  was  the  first  lo  gire  Su^ilwii 
a  practical  proof  of  his  want  of  foresight  in  this  tnatler,  by  telling  linn, 
on  some  slight  cause  of  oflence,  "  that  he  was  not  king  of  right,  and  U 
would  obey  him  no  longer."  Stephen  proceeded  in  person  to  ' 
him ;  in  the  meantime  David,  king  of  Scolbnd,  invaded  the  i 
counties,  under  pretence  of  revenging  the  wrong  that  had  bwn 
his  niece,  the  empress  Matilda,  by  Stephen's  nsurpation  and  penury, 

Matilda  of  Boulogne,  Stephen's  consort,  stood  in  the  same  mgnttt 
relationship  lo  the  king  of  Scotland,  as  the  empress  Matilda,  hum  bff 
mother,  Mnry  of  Scotland,  was  his  sister,  no  less  than  Matilda,  the  otMi 
of  Henry  I. 

Stephen  concluded  a  hasiy  peace  with  the  Welsh  princes, 

' JklaJmsbOr/.     fimmplon.     *  Carrutheii'  Hiit.  ol  SeotUbd,  pfi.  3>7,  JOL. 


MATILDA    OP    BOULOONX.  147 

to  repel  the  inTasion  of  king  David ;  but  when  the  hosthe  armies  met 
near  Carlisle,  he  succeeded  in  adjusting  all  differences  by  means  of  an 
iroicable  treaty,  perhaps  through  the  in  treaties  or  mediation  of  his  queen. 

Easter  was  kept  at  Westminster  this  year,  1137,  by  Stephen  and  Ma- 
tilda, with  greater  splendour  than  had  ever  been  seen  in  the  court  o 
Henry  Beaudere,  to  celebrate  the  happy  termination  of  the  storm  that 
had  so  lately  darkened  the  political  horizon ;  but  the  rejoicings  of  the 
queen  were  fearfully  interrupted  by  the  alarming  illness  which  suddenly 
•ttacked  the  king,  in  the  midst  of  the  festivities  for  his  safe  return  from 
the  Welsh  and  northern  expeditions. 

This  illness,  the  efiect  no  doubt  of  the  preternatural  exertions  of  both 
mental  and  corporeal  powers,  which  Stephen  had  compelled  himself  to 
use,  during  the  recent  momentous  crisis  of  his  fortunes,  was  a  sort  of 
stupor,  or  lethargy  so  nearly  resembling  death,  that  it  was  reported  in 
Normandy  that  he  had  breathed  his  last ;  on  which  the  party  of  the 
empress  began  to  take  active  measures,  both  on  the  continent  and  in 
England,  for  the  recognition  of  her  rights.*  The  count  of  Anjou  entered 
Normandy  at  the  head  of  an  army,  to  assert  the  claims  of  his  wife  and 
son ;  which  were,  however,  disputed  by  Stephen's  elder  brother,  Theo- 
bald count  of  Blois,  not  in  behalf  of  Stephen,  but  himself;  and  the  earl 
of  Gloucester  openly  declared  himself  in  favour  of  his  sister  the  em- 
press, and  delivered  the  keys  of  Falaise  to  her  husband,  Geoffrey  of 
Anjou.' 

When  Stephen  recovered  from  his  death-like  sickness,  he  found  every- 
thing in  confusion, — the  attention  of  his  faithful  queen,  Matilda,  having 
doubtless  been  absorbed  in  anxious  watchings  by  his  sick-bed,  during 
the  protracted  period  of  his  strange  and  alarming  malady.  She  was  now 
left  to  take  care  of  his  interests  in  England  as  best  she  might ;  for  Ste- 
phen, rousing  himself  from  the  pause  of  exhausted  nature,  hastened  to 
the  continent  with  his  infant  heir  Eustace,  to  whom  queen  Matilda  had 
resigned  the  earldom  of  Boulogne,  her  own  fair  inheritance.  Stephen, 
by  the  strong  eloquence  of  an  immense  bribe,  prevailed  on  Louis  VII. 
of  France,  as  suzerain  of  Normandy,  to  invest  the  unconscious  babe  with 
the  duchy,  and  to  receive  his  liege  homage  for  the  same.' 

Meantime  some  portentous  events  occurred  during  Matilda's  govern- 
ment Sudden  and  mysterious  conflagrations  then,  as  now,  indicated 
the  sullen  discontent  of  the  very  lower  order  of  the  English  people. 
On  the  dd  of  June,  1137,  Rochester  cathedral  was  destroyed  by  fire; 
the  following  day,  the  whole  city  of  Tork,  with  its  cathedral  and  thirty 
churches,  was  burnt  to  the  ground ;  soon  afler,  the  city  of  Bath  shared 
the  same  &te.  Then  conspiracies  began  to  be  formed  in  favour  of  the 
empress  Matilda,  in  various  parts  of  England;  and  lastly,  her  uncle, 
David  king  of  Scotland,  once  more  entered  Northumberland,  with  ban- 
ners displayed,  in  support  of  his  supplanted  kinswoman's  superior  title 
to  the  crown.^    Queen  Matilda,  with  courage  and  energy  suited  to  this 

*  Hoveden.    Brompton*    Orderioot  Yitalis.  *  M.  Paris,  iLO,  4tc 

'  Ordericas  Vitalis.  Henry  of  Huntingdon.  Brompton.  M.  Paris.  Rapin.  SpeecL 
*Brouipton.    Bapin.    Ordericus  Yitalis. 


I 

I 


K^ITtLDA    OF    BOVLoaSE.  ^H 

klanDing  crinst  n-eni  in  peraun,  and  besieged  the  insui^nU,  who  M 
eeiied  Bover  cusUe ;  and  she  sent  orders  to  ihe  men  of  Boulo^e,  ba 
loyal  KubJecU,  lo  attack  the  rebels  by  sea. 

The  Bonloonois  obeyed  the  commaiids  or  iheir  beloved  princes*  with 
•lucrity,'  and  to  such  good  purpo«ei  by  covering  ihe  Chonael  wvih  ibeif 
ligbt-armed  vessels,  that  ifae  besieged,  not  being  able  to  receive  ih* 
•lightest  succour  by  sea,  were  foiced  to  Bubmii  to  the  queen.'  At  lliil 
juncture  Stephen  arrived,  uid  lucceeded  in  chastising  the  Ic&den  of  the 
revolt,  and  drove  the  Scottish  king  over  his  own  border.  Nercrthelc« 
the  empress  Matilda's  parly,  in  the  year  1 138,  began  to  assume  n  fbrm^ 
dable  aspecL  Every  day  brought  tidings  to  the  court  of  Stephej)  uf  aooe 
fresh  revolt.  William  of  Malnubury  relates,  that  when  Stephen  ma 
bifTmed  of  these  desertions,  he  passionately  exclaimed,  "  Why  did  thiy 
make  me  king,  if  they  forsake  roe  thus  ?  By  the  birth  of  Gkxl,'  J  ril 
never  be  called  an  abdicated  king!" 

The  invasion  of  qneeu  Alalilda's  uncle,  David  of  Scotland,  lor  the 
third  time  increased  the  dialractioa  of  her  royal  husband's  ai&irs,  ttf»- 
r-ially  as  Stephen  was  loo  much  occupied  with  the  internal  troubles  of 
his  kingdom,  to  be  able  to  proceed,  in  person,  against  him.  David,  ud 
his  army,  were,  hovrever,  defeated  wiih  immense  slaughter,  by  the  war- 
hke  ThursUn,  archbishop  of  York,  at  Cuton  Moor.  The  paniculan 
dI  this  engagement,  called  the  battle  of  the  Standard,  where  the  church 
militant  performed  such  notable  service  for  the  crown,  belong  to  getwdl 
hislor}-,  and  are  besides  too  well  known  to  require  repetition  in  the 
biograpliv  of  Stephen^s  queen. 

Matiloft'  was  mainly  instrumental  in  negotiating  the  peace  which  ww 
concluded  this  year  between  her  uncle  and  her  lord.  Prince  lleniy, 
llie  lieir  of  Scotland,  having,  at  the  same  time,  renewed  bis  homags  to 
Stephen  for  the  earldom  of  Huntingdon,  was  invited  by  the  king  lo  hit 
court.  The  aiieniion  with  which  the  young  prince  was  irraied  by  tba 
king  and  queen  was  viewed  with  invidious  eyes  by  their  ill-mannertd 
courtiers;  and  Ranulph,  earl  of  Chester,  took  such  great  oQence  at  tk* 
myal  stranger  being  seated  above  him  at  dinner,  that  he  made  it  an  ei> 
cusc  for  joining  the  revolted  barons,  and  persuaded  a  knot  of  equally 
uucivdized  nobles  to  follow  his  example  on  the  same  pretence.' 

The  empress  Matilda,  taking  advantage  of  the  fierce  contention  be- 
tween Stephen  and  the  hierarchy  of  England,  made  her  lardy  appearaDU, 
in  pursuance  of  her  claims  lo  the  crown,  in  the  autumn  of  1 14i>.  Uks 
her  uncle,  Robert  the  Unready,  ihe  empress  allowed  the  critical  tnomtat 
to  slip,  when,  by  prompt  and  energetic  measures,  she  migbl  have  gatnad 
tlte  priie  for  which  she  contended.  But  she  did  not  turive  till  Sttq^UB 
had  made  himself  master  of  the  caslles,  and,  what  was  of  more  import* 
nuce  to  him,  the  greal  wealth  of  his  three  refractory  prelalea,  tiie  bwiof* 
of  Salisbury,  Ely,  ami  Ijncoln. 

'  Onterkns  Vitalia.  *  ThU  was  Siephen  3  Diunl  oath.      MalmitniT. 

'"Throu^  die  mediatiOD  orMotiUa,  Uie  wife  orStcpbcn,  and  nieoa  of  Davia 
a  peace  was  conclQileii  at  I)uihBm  beiween  ihesa  two  king*,  t^Bii>b4e  hi  Imit 
and  Dwrul  laboiii  paniei." — C^rruthers'  HisL  oT  Scotland,  vol.  i.  p.  39t. 


MATILDA    OF    BOVLOONK.  149 

When  the  empress  was  shut  up  within  the  walls  of  Arundel  castle, 
Stephen  might,  by  one  bold  stroke,  have  made  her  his  prisoner;  but  he 
was  prerailed  upon  to  respect  the  ties  of  consanguinity,  and  the  high 
rank  €i(  the  widow,  and  of  the  daughter  of  his  benefactor  king  Henry. 
It  is  possible,  too,  that  recollections  of  a  tenderer  nature,  with  regard  to 
his  cousin  the  empress,  might  deter  him  from  imperilling  her  person,  by 
pushing  the  siege.  According  to  some  of  the  chroniclers,  the  empress 
sent,  with  queen  Adelicia's  request  that  she  might  be  permitted  to  retire 
to  Bristol,  a  guileful  letter  or  message  to  Stephen,'  which  induced  him 
to  promise,  on  his  word  of  honour,  that  he  would  grant  her  safe  con- 
duct to  that  city.  Though  the  empress  knew  that  Stephen  had  violated 
the  most  solemn  oaths  which  he  had  taken  in  regard  to  her  succession 
to  the  crown,  she  relied  upon  his  honour,  and  put  herself  under  his  pro- 
tection, and  was  safely  conducted  to  the  castle  of  Bristol.  King  Stephen 
gave  to  his  brother,  Henry  of  Blois,  bishop  of  Winchester,  and  to  Wal- 
leran,  earl  of  Mellent,  the  charge  of  conducting  the  empress  to  Bristol 
castle.  This  bright  trait  of  chivalry  contrasts  beautifully  with  the  self- 
ishness and  perfidy  too  prevalent  at  the  era. 

It  was  during  this  journey,  in  all  probability,  that  Henry  de  Blois 
anmnged  his  plims  with  the  empress  Matilda,  for  making  her  mistress  of 
the  royal  city  of  Winchester,  which  was  entirely  under  his  influence. 

While  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  on  behalf  of  his  sister  the  empress,  was 
contesting  with  king  Stephen  the  realm  of  England  at  the  sword's  point, 
queen  Matilda  procapded  to  France,  with  her  son  Eustace,  to  endeavour 
to  strengthen  her  husband's  cause  by  the  aid  of  her  foreign  connexions ; 
and«  while  at  the  court  of  France,  successfully  exerted  her  diplomatic 
powers  in  negotiating  a  marriage  between  the  princess  Constance,  sister 
of  Louis  VII.,  and  prince  Eustace,  then  about  four  years  old.  The 
queen  presided  at  this  infant  marriage,  which  was  celebrated  with  great 
splendour. 

Instead  of  receiving  a  dowry  with  a  princess,  queen  Matilda  paid  a 
large  sum  to  purchase  her  son  the  bride ;  Louis  VII.  in  return  solemnly 
invested  his  young  brother-in-law  with  the  duchy  of  Normandy,  and 
lent  his  powerful  aid  to  maintain  him  there  as  the  nominal  sovereign, 
under  the  direction  of  the  queen  his  mother.    This  alliance,  which  took 
place  in  the  year  1140,'  greatly  raised  the  hopes  of  Stephen's  party; 
but  the  bands  of  foreign  mercenaries,  which  his  queen  Matilda  sent  over 
from  Boulogne  and  the  ports  of  Normandy  to  his  succour,  had  an  inju- 
rious eflect  on  his  cause,  and  were  beheld  with  jealous  alarm  by  the 
people  of  the  land ;  ^  whose  miseries  were  in  no  slight  degree  aggra- 
vated,'' says  the  chronicler  Gervase,  ^  by  the  arrival  of  these  hunger- 
starred  wolves,  who  completed  the  destruction  of  the  land's  felicity." 

It  was  during  the  absence  of  queen  Matilda  and  her  son,  prince  Eub- 
tace,  that  the  ^ttle,  so  disastrous  to  her  husband's  cause,  was  fouffht, 
beneath  the  walls  of  Lincoln,  on  Candlemas-day,  1141.  Stephen  hail 
shut  up  a  great  many  of  the  empress  Matilda's  partisans  and  their  fami- 
lies in  the  city  of  Lincoln,  which  he  had  been  for  some  time  besi^[ing. 

>  Gervase.    Henxy  of  Hontinfclon.  *  Florence  of  Woiceitiex.    TyncW 

13* 


•tfid 


ILDA    OF    BOV  LOGSE. 


I 


The  Mrl  of  Glotioejter's  youngest  daughter,  lolely  married  to  lier  eonrin 
Raiiulpiii  earl  of  Ciiesler,  was  amon^  the  besieged;  anil  bo  iletermtncd 
were  die  two  earls,  her  father  anii  her  huabaiiil,  for  her  delivemnc«,  tlitt 
tht^y  encouraged  (heir  followers  to  swim,  or  ford,  the  deep  cold  waten 
of  the  rirer  Trent,'  behind  which  Stephen  and  hia  army  were  encamped, 
and  fiercely  attacked  him  in  their  dripping  garmenta ;  and  all  for  ihe 
relief  of  ilie  fair  ladiea  who  were  trembling  within  the  walls  of  Lincoln, 
anil  beginning  to  suffer  from  lark  of  provisions.  These  were  the  dayii 
of  cliivalry,  be  it  remembered.'  Spned  gives  ns  ■  ilescriptjre  ntlalogne 
of  some  of  the  leading  characiers  among  otir  valianl  king  Sl«plwn'> 
knighls  $ani  peiir,  which,  if  space  were  allowed  us.  we  would  abstiact 
from  the  animated  harangue  with  which  the  earl  of  Gloucestsr  endn- 
*oure<I  to  warm  his  shivering  followers  into  a  virtuous  blaze  of  iadign»- 
tion.  aAer  ihey  had  emeiged  from  their  cold  bath.' 

His  sutirical  eloquence  was  received  by  the  partisans  of  the  emprsM 
with  a  tremendous  shoui  of  applause;  and  Stephen,  not  to  be  behind- 
hand with  his  foes  in  bandying  personal  abuse  as  a  prelude  tn  the  fight 
as  liis  own  powers  of  articulation  happened  to  be  defective,  deputed  oar 
Baldwin  Fitz-^ilhert,  a  knight  who  was  blessed  with  a  Sientoriiin  rnifc, 
to  thunder  forth  his  recrimination  on  the  earl  of  Gloucester  and  his  host, 
in  the  ear*  of  both  armies.  Fitz-Gilberl,  in  hia  speech,  laid  ecornibi 
flress  on  the  illegitimacy  of  the  emprees^  champion,  whom  he  destg- 
Dated,  "Robert,  the  base-born  general."' 

The  btttile,  for  which  both  parties  hod  prepared  ihetnsclvee  with  mi<t 
■  sharp  encounter  of  keen  words,  was.  to  use  the  eiipiession  of  contem- 
porary chroniclers,  "  a  very  sore  one ;"  but  it  seems  as  if  Stephen  bad 
fought  better  than  his  followers  that  day.  ".A  very  strange  sigM  it 
was."  says  Matthew  Paris,  **  there  to  behold  king  Stephen,  Icf^  alinoei* 
■lone  in  the  lield,  yet  no  man  daring  lo  approach  him,  while,  grimlint 
his  teeth  and  foaming  like  a  furious  wild  boar,  he  ilrove  bark  with  hu 
fcalll<^-axe  the  assailing  squadrons,  slayitig  the  foremost  of  them,  to  the 
eternal  renown  of  his  courage.  If  but  a  hundred  like  himself  had  bten 
with  him,  a  whole  army  had  never  been  able  lo  capiirre  his  person ;  y«. 
single-handed  as  lie  was,  he  held  out  till  lirsl  his  baitle-Hxe  hrake^  am) 
afterwards  his  sword  shivered  in  his  grasp,  with  the  force  nf  his  owa 
resistless  Mows  ;  though  he  wss  borne  backward  to  his  knees  by  a  grAl 
stone,  which  by  some  ignoble  person  was  flung  at  him.  A  stout  knigtit, 
William  of  Kiunes,  then  seized  him  by  the  helmet,  and  holding  ih* 
point  of  his  sword  to  his  throat,  called  upon  him  lo  surrender,"* 

Even  in  that  e»lreiniiy  Stephen  refused  lo  give  Dp  the  fragment  of  hii 
sword  to  any  one  but  the  earl  of  Olourester,  his  valiant  kinsman,  who, 

L coming  up,  bade  his  infuriated  troops  rtfrain  from  further  violentn.,  and 
cnndueted  his  n>yal  captive  to  the  empress  Matilda,  at  Gloucester.  Th« 
carl  of  Gloucester,  It  Is  said,  treated  Stephen  with  some  degree  of  cour- 
trsv ;  but  the  empress  Matilda,  whose  hatred  appears  to  huve  e 


■  Matin ibury.     RB|)in.     SpM^I.  ■Polyitore  Vrrgl!.     Speed.     MiilmibaTT. 

'Roger  HtiriHlen.     R.  HiinlinRiIna.     Polfchronicon, 

'Jtogrt  Hortdcn.   H.Hunlincdan.   Spc^d.       'H.  Huntingdon.   Epi^.    Rafun. 


■  MATILDA    OF     DOULOQNE.  151 

ftam  a  ilscper  root  of  bilternrss  tlinn  mere  rivalry  of  powefi  loadeil  hlffl 
witli  indigni tin,  anil  unlernl  liim  itiio  itie  mosE  ri^oroua  conflncment,  in 
Bristol  ewxie.  According  lo  (jeiietnl  tusiorians,  the  caused  liim  lo  be 
liraTilr  irpcicd, and  used  the  royal  captive  aa  ignominiously  as  if  lie  had 
been  Uie  lowcat  Tclon;  but  Williaiu  o(  Malmsbury  says,  "this  was  not 
btl  afl«r  SWfihen  tuul  attempted  to  make  his  escape,  or  it  was  reported 
tint  Ike  haij  beea  eeeu  eev«ral  timtis  beyond  the  bounds  prescribed  for  air 
and  Merfiae." 

The  cq^ireM  Matilda  made  her  public  and  tiiumphant  entry  into  the 
riif  of  Winchevter,  February  7,  wliere  the  was  received  with  great  state 
by  Stephen's  equally  haughty  brother,  Henry  de  Blois,  bishop  of  Wiu- 
c^rster,  and  carding  Ifgue.  He  appeared  at  llie  head  of  alt  the  clurgy 
and  monks  of  the  diocese;  and  even  the  nuns  of  Winchester'  (a  thine 
hetam  unheard  of)  walketi  unveiled  in  the  procession,  to  receive  and 
wcJeonie  the  rightful  heiress  of  the  realm,  the  daughter  of  the  great  and 
learned  Henry  Fitz-Conqucror,  and  of  Matilda,  the  descendant  of  the 
Atbeling.  The  English  had  also  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  male 
Rpivaeiiiative  of  their  aucient  rouiiarchs  on  llial  occasion  within  the 
walls  of  Winchester;  fur  David  of  Scotland,  the  son  of  Margaret  of 
Alhding,  w»  precent,  to  do  honour  lo  his  niece, — the  victorious  rival  oC 
Sirpbeii'a  crown.     Henry  de  Bloia  resigned  the  regal  omatnents,  and  the 

fiuy  midue  of  her  father's  irGoaure,  into  the  hinds  of  the  empress, 
he  next  day  he  received  her  with  great  pomp  in  his  cathedral  church, 
where  be  excommunicated  all  the  adherents  of  hii!  unfortunate  brother) 
and  pmoiued  absolution  lo  all  who  should  abandon  his  cause  and  join 
the  tmprasa.' 

In  ihi*  melancholy  position  did  queen  Matilda  find  her  husband's 
ruMT.  when  she  retimied  front  her  successful  negotiation,  of  the  luar- 
nagc  hciircen  tlie  Frenrh  king's  sister,  and  her  son  the  young  connt  of 
Boahi|rne,  whom  slie  had  left,  fur  the  present,  established  us  duke  of 
V  onmady.  The  peera  and  clei^y  had  alike  abandoned  the  luckiest 
-.ipben  in  his  adversity;  anil  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  being  I 
...in  a(  lender  conscienee,  had  actually  visited  Stephen  in  prison,  lO 
jL^joeai  hb  permission  to  transfer  his  oath  of  allegiance  to  bis  victorioiif 
fiial,  tlw  cnipreis  Matilda. 

!■  thia  praUcameni,  the  faithful  consort  of  the  fallen  monarch  applied 
hxTMclf  to  the  citizens  of  Londiin,  with  whutn  she  had  ever  muinlatliad 
a  fTtBi  share  of  popularity.  They  knew  Iter  virtues,  for  she  had  livtd 
tnong  lliein;  and  her  tender  atlection  for  her  royal  spouse  in  his  vi- 
ittmitj,  w«a  well  pleasing  lo  those  who  had  witnessed  the  domestic  hap:* 
piacM  ()f  the  princely  pair,  white  they  lived  in  Tower-Royal,  as  count 
«ad  cuunteaa  of  Boulogne ;  and  the  remembrance  of  Stephen's  free  and 
pleaaaJii  cwduct,  and  a&ble  association  with  all  sorts  and  Cundiiioiis  of 
aea,  before  he  wore  the  ilinmy  diadem  of  a  doubtful  title  to  the  sov»- 
le^Bty  uf  Efi^nd,  disposed  the  magistracy  of  Loniton  to  render  eveiy 

hlk.  'RudbamFi  HiiL  oT  Winrhosior. 

^r  'Ottili  Stephani.     Oernue.     Malmabuiy.    Rapln. 


I 


I 


I 


MATlLIlA    OF    BnVLOONB. 

Bssislance  in  their  power  lo  itieir  unfortunale  king.'  So  powcifaWy,  in* 
deed,  had  tiie  personal  iiiHuence  of  queen  Matdda  operated  in  thni  quulrr, 
tbat  when  ihe  msgistrales  of  London  were  sniiimoned  to  send  iheir  de- 
puties to  a  synod  al  Winchester,  held  by  Henry  de  BIuie,  wliieh  had 
ptedeleryiined  the  election  of  the  empress  Matilda  to  the  ilin^ne,  ihey 
lusirucU'd  them  to  demand  the  liberation  of  the  king  in  the  name  of  ihe 
burona  and  citizens  of  Ixindon,  as  a  preliminary  to  entering  into  anr 
discussion  nilb  the  paniGuns  of  his  enemy.  Henry  ile  Bloia  repliM. 
^  that  it  dill  not  become  the  Londoners  to  side  with  the  adherenit  uf 
Stephen,  wliose  object  was  lo  embroil  the  kingdom  in  fresh  troublm."* 
Queen  Matilda.  Ending  that  the  trusty  citizens  of  Ix>ndon  were  baffled 
by  the  priestly  subtlety  of  her  husband's  brother,  Henry  de  Itloif,  took 
ihc  decided,  but  at  ifiai  time  unprecedenCed,  step,  of  writing,  in  her  owtt 
name,  an  eloquent  letter  to  the  synod,  eamcstly  entreating  those  in 
whose  hands  the  government  of  Englaud  was  vested,  to  restore  the  Ling, 
her  husband,  to  libeily. 

This  letter  the  queen's  faithful  chaplain.  Christian,  delivered,  in  M 
synod,  lo  the  legale  Henry  de  Bloia.  The  prelale,  after  he  had  |)erniri 
the  touching  appeal  of  his  royal  slster-in-luw,  refused  to  eoinmunicste 
its  purport  to  the  assembly ;  on  which  Christian  boldly  look  the  quentV 
letter  out  of  his  hand,  and  read  it  aloud  to  the  astonished  cnnclaTO 
courageously  disregarding  the  auger  and  opposition  of  the  legate,  wbu 
was  at  that  time  virtually  the  sovereign  of  the  realm.*  Henry  dc  Bluia 
eflectually  prevented  any  good  eflect  resulting  from  the  persuasive  ad- 
dress of  the  high-minded  consort  of  his  unfortuuaie  brother,  by  ifit- 
solving  the  synod,  and  declaring  '^  that  the  empress  Matilda  was  lawfully 
elected  as  the  domina  or  sovereign  lady  of  England."  The  followiDg 
are  the  words  of  the  formula  in  wiiich  the  declaration  was  deliremd: 

"  Having  first,  as  is  lit,  invoked  tlie  aid  of  Almighty  God,  we  clod  « 
lady  of  England  and  Nuimandy  the  daughter  of  the  glorioua,  ilie  ridi, 
the  good,  the  peaceful  king  Henry,  and  to  her  we  promise  fealty  and 
support."' 

No  word  is  here  of  the  good  old  laws — the  laws  of  Alfred  uid  SL 
Edward,  or  of  the  great  charter  wiiich  Henry  1.  agreed  to  observe.  The 
empress  was  the  leader  of  the  Norninn  party,  and  the  hetid  of  Korman 
feudality,  which,  in  many  instances,  was  incompatible  with  the  Sued 


1 


Arrogant  and  disdainful  as  her  imperial  education  had  renderHl  h«, 
she  bore  those  new  honours  wiih  anything  but  meekness ;  she  lefiMEd 
to  listen  lo  the  counsel  of  her  friends,  and  treated  those  of  her  adm^ 
ties  whom  misfortune  drove  to  seek  her  clemency  with  insnlene*  nd 
cruelty,  stripping  them  of  their  possessions,  and  rendering  (hem  jieffeedf 
(tesperaie.  The  friends  who  hiul  contributed  to  her  elevation  fre<|t)eMFF 
met  with  a  harsh  refusal  when  they  asked  favours ;  "■  and,"  myn  ma  dd 
historian,  "  when  they  bowed  themselves  down  before  ber,  ■be  tlid  Mt 


MATILDA    OF     BOULO 


Mtfontime  the  sorrowful  i|uecn  JMatilda  wai  unremitlin^  in  her  ei 
liMu  Tor  itie  Ubeislion  of  lier  unfortuiiale  lord,  who  was  al  tilts 
hH*ily  bxmed,  wid  iguominiaualy  ir^aied,  by  order  of  the  empr 
Mot  mly  Enfkml,  bat  Nonuaiidy.  tvas  now  loit  to  the  captive  luuiiartll 
bar  huaband,  and  ^ir  young  heir,  prince  Eustace ;  for  GeotTrey  of 
Aajod,  aa  aoon  ae  he  received  inielligence  of  the  decisive  b&tlle  of  Lln- 
f«la,  pamiaded  the  Norman  baronage  to  withdraw  their  allegianre  front 
ihnr  reototly  invested  duke,  and  to  transfer  it  to  his  wife  the  cmpreaan 
»ihI  her  son  Henry,  certainly  die  rightful  heirs  of  William  the  C  ~~ 
r,ucTor.  The  los«  of  regal  siste  and  sovereign  power  was,  howe< 
ncBfded  by  the  queen  of  Stephen  as  a  matter  of  little 
the  •ewHMi  of  adveraily.  it  was  not  the  king,  but  the  man,  the  hus- 
band of  her  youtli,  and  the  fcther  of  her  children,  to  whom  the 
icMlef-beuted  Hatilda  of  Boulogne  clung,  with  a  devotion  not  often  lo 
be  met  wiili  in  the  personal  history  of  royalty.  It  was  for  his  sake 
^lini  she  coudftirended  to  humble  herself,  by  addressing  the  most  lowly 
'  liiiTsties  to  her  haughty  cou^n,  ilie  empress  Matilda — to  her,  who,  if 
f  leporl  of  some  contemporary  chroniclers  is  to  be  credited,  had 
Lttmycd  ber  husband  into  a  breach  of  his  iimrriage  vow.  The  insult- 
iag  »eom  with  which  the  empress  rejected  every  petition  which  the 
vtdded  wife  of  Stephen  presented  lo  her,  in  behalf  of  her  &llen  foe, 
looks  like  ibp  viudiclive  spiril  of  a  jealous  wnman;  especiBliy,  wliea 
«■  ntket,  thai  not  only  the  virtues  of  Matilda  of  Boulogne,  but  the 
dsMaeia  of  her  consanguinity  to  herEelf,  required  her  to  be  treated 
with  fame  degree  of  consiileralion  and  respect 

There  appears  even  to  be  a  coven  reference  to  the  former  position  in 
■likh  them  prince«»es  had  stood,  as  rivals  in  Stephen's  love,  by  the 
|n)»ea«l  made  by  his  fond  queen.  She  proposed,  if  his  life  wore  tntt 
•faitd,  to  relinquiah  his  society,  and  thai  he  should  not  ouly  for  onti 
hn^o  ill  claims  upon  llie  crown  and  succession  of  England  and  No^ 
mandv.  but,  taking  upon  himself  the  tows  and  habit  of  a  monk,  devota 
liiinirll  to  a  teligious  life,  either  as  a  pilgrim  ot  a  cloistered  auchorile,* 
■m  (■oticUiiou  Lliat  their  son,  prince  Eustace,  might  be  permitted  to  enjoy, 
iti  her  right,  the  earldom  of  Boulogne,  and  his  father's  earldom  of  Mor- 
Ugae,  lilt)  grant  of  Henry  I.  This  petition  was  rejected  by  llio  victo- 
liiiaa  onpress,  with  no  less  contempt  than  all  the  others  which  Ste- 
phen's aii€Pn  hod  ventured  to  prefer,  although  her  suit  in  this  instance 
naa  liarkod  by  the  powerful  mediation  of  Henry  de  Blois.  This  prelate, 
who  apficar*  lo  have  thought  more  of  peace  than  of  brotherhood,  was 
1I1.H  only  destraus  of  settling  public  order  on  such  easy  terms  for  his 
iidw  iKiTercign,  hut  wUling  lo  secure  lo  his  nephew  ilie  natural  inh»- 
ntancE  at  his  parents,  of  which  the  einpress's  pariy  bad  obtained 
•r^ton.  So  blind,  however,  was  this  obdurate  princess,  in  pursuing 
liewllong  impulse  of  her  vindictive  nature,  that  nothing  cold  ' 
Iter  to  prrwivc  how  much  it  was  her  interest  to  grant  llie  pray 
unhappy  cousin  ;  and  she  rcpuUed  the  Guit  of  Henry  de  Blois  so  rud< 
llut,  when  next  summoued  to  her  presence,  he  refused  lo  come,    ^ui 


I 


>r  Ris 

inh»- 

1 


I 


i 


f'VH  UATILDA    OF    BOULOGNE. 

Matilda  improved  this  tliflemice  between  her  hHiiglii}-  ririil  end  faer 
brolher-in^w.  In  her  otni  adTaninge;  and,  having  ohuitml  a  prinu 
interview  wiih  him,  she  prevtiilcd  on  him,  by  ilie  eluquence  of  hec  Iran 
and  enlreatiest  to  absolve  all  her  husbund'a  party,  vrhoin.  as  [x^'i 
legate,  he  had  a  Tew  day*  before  excornniunieateU,  and  U>  enier  into  t 
Re|;otialion  with  her  for  ihe  deliverance  of  his  brother.' 

Not  did  tlie  queen  MaLlda  rest  here.  In  the  name  of  her  iion.pnKS 
Eustace,  aided  by  William  of  Ypres,  Stephen's  able  but  unjxipuUr  inia*- 
ler  of  stale,  she  raised  the  standard  of  iier  captive  lord,  in  Kent  and 
Surrey,  where  a  strong  party  was  presently  organized  ia  his  favour;  mi 
finding  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  hoped  for  from  her  obdurate  kii» 
woman,  the  empress  Matilda,  on  any  oilier  lenns  but  the  unrewuia^ 
one  of  giving  up  her  own  I'uir  inlierilanee,  she,  like  a  true  dau^hur  of 
the  heroic  house  of  Boulogne,  and  the  nieee  of  the  illnalrioua  Godfiri' 
and  Baldwin,  prepared  herself  for  u  struggle,  with  such  coun^gmw 
energy  of  mind  and  promptitude  of  action,  that  many  a  recreant  bonm 
was  shamed  into  qaiiiing  the  inglorious  shelter  of  Itis  castle,  and  led- 
ing  forth  his  vasrals  to  strengthen  the  muster  of  the  royal  heroine. 

In  the  pages  of  superliriiilly  written  histories,  much  is  said  of  te 
prowess  and  luilitaty  skill  displayed  by  prince  Eustace  at  this  period', 
but  Eustace  was  scarcely  seven  year*  old.  at  tlie  time  when  tWse  eflbiU 
were  made  for  tlie  deliverance  of  his  royal  sire.  It  is,  therefore,  pUni 
to  those  who  reHeci  on  the  evidence  of  doi«s,  iliat  it  was  the  hii^ 
minded  and  prudent  queen,  liis  mother,  who  avotdMl  all  Aiuazouian  » 
pluy,  by  acting  under  the  name  of  her  son. 

Her  feminine  virtues,  endearing  qualities,  and  conjugal  ilevolMin,  h*i 
already  created  the  most  powerful  interest  in  her  favour ;  while  rrpum 
of  tite  pride  and  hardness  of  heart  of  her  stern  relative  and  iiaineMlu, 
the  new  domina,  began  to  be  industriously  circulated  through  ilie  load, 
by  the  ofieiided  legate,  Henry  de  Blois.* 

William  of  Malmsbury  mentions  expressly,  that  the  emprma  Mstild* 
never  bore  or  received  the  title  of  ri-^ina.  or  queen  of  England,  bat  (hu 
of  domina,  or  lady  of  England.  On  her  broad  seal,  which  she  eaaxd 
to  be  made  for  her  royal  use  at  Winchester,  she  entitles  herseli',  ■■  KooN- 
uorum  Regina  Mactliildis ;"  and  in  a  charier  granted  by  her,  just  oAcf 
the  death  of  her  brother  and  champion,  Robert  earl  of  Gloucealer,  ibt 
styles  lierself  '''  Regiua  Romaiioruni,  ci  Domina  Angloruni." 

Tiie  seel  to  which  we  have  just  alluded  bears  the  ligurc  of  the  fmBil 
daughter  of  Uie  Norman  conqueror,  crowned  and  seated  on  tJie  Kinn^ 
Bench,  with  a  sceptre  in  her  riglit  hand,  but  bearing  neitli«r  orb  nor 
duve,  the  symbols  of  sovereign  power  and  mercy.  She  was  not  M 
anointed  queen,  neither  had  the  crown-royal  ever  been  placed 
brow.'    The  garland  offieur  de  lis,  by  which  the  folds  of  her 

'S|wed.     TjTreiL  'TymlL 

•  We  »fe  inilebleJ  to  oat  tLnci  friend,  Mr.  Howan!,  of  Colby  Cuile,  for  •  da* 
iag  or  Ilie  impreuion  at  another  sual  penaining  to  MiiiMtt  Ihe  EmprDM^  tlfde 
Slwt  by  Uiis  Mary  Aglkinbf  Aom  ■  iletil  belantpng  to  hfir  thmil;.  Th*  kaA 
<lreH  of  itie  eirpr«Bi  ia  ainipler  tbnn  that  aliOTF-nieniIon«I.  Iba  nil  beia(  (M 
Batd  by  ■  men  iwiMad  flUet,  taeh  as  we  aee  beiieub  helneta  aaJ  cnM  It 


MATILDA    OF    BOULOGNB.  155 

wimple  are  confined,  is  of  a  simpler  fonn  than  the  royal  dia<lem8  o(^  the 
Anglo-Norman  sorereigns,  as  shown  on  the  broad  seals  of  William  Ru- 
fii&.  Henry  1.,  and  Stephen.  Probably  an  alteration  would  have  been 
made,  if  the  coronation  of  Matilda,  as  sovereign  of  England,  had  ever 
taken  place.  But  the  consent  of  the  city  of  London  was  an  indis- 
pensable preliminary  to  her  inauguration ;  and  to  London  she  proceeded 
in  person,  to  obtain  this  important  recognition.  Though  the  majority 
of  the  city  authorities  were  disposed  to  favour  the  cause  of  Stephen, 
for  the  sake  of  his  popular  consort,  Matilda  of  Boulogne,  the  Saxon 
citizens,  when  they  heard,  ^that  the  daughter  of  Molde,  their  good 
queen,''  claimed  their  homage,  looked  with  reverence  on  her  elder 
claim,  and  threw  open  their  gates  to  receive  her  with  every  manifesta- 
tion of  aflectioo. 

The  first  sentence  addressed  to  them  by  this  haughty  claimant  of  the 
rrown  of  St  Edward,  was  the  demand  of  an  enormous  subsidy. 

The  citizens  of  London  replied,  by  inquiring  after  the  great  charter 
granted  by  her  fiither. 

^Te  are  very  impudent  to  mention  privileges  and  charters  to  me, 
when  ye  have  just  been  supporting  my  enemies,"  was  the  gracious. 
rejoinifer.' 

Her  prudent  and  gallant  brother,  Robert  of  Gloucester,  who  stood  by 
her  side,  immediately  perceiving  that  the  citizens  of  London  stood 
•gbast,  at  this  intimation,  of  their  new  sovereign's  intention,  to  treat 
them  as  a  conquered  people,  endeavoured  to  divert  the  public  rage,  by  a 
most  discreet  speech,  beginning  with  this  complimentary  address : — 

^  Te  citizens  of  London,  who  of  olden  time  were  ddled  barons " 

Although  the  valiant  Robert  was  a  most  complete  and  graceful 
orator,  we  have  no  space  for  his  speeches,  so  carefully  preserved  by  the 
contemporary  historians,  nor  could  all  his  conciliatory  eloquence  draw 
the  attention  of  the  Londoners  from  the  harshness  of  their  new  liege 
lady. 

Her  uncle,  king  David,  was  present  at  this  scene,  and  earnestly  per- 
luaded  the  empress  to  adopt  a  more  popular  line  of  conduct,  but  in 
Tain.' 

The  Londoners  craved  leave  to  retire  to  their  hall  of  common  council, 
in  order  to  provide  the  subsidy. 

The  cmpress-domina  was  waiting  in  full  security  at  the  new  palace  at 
Westminster,  built  by  her  uncle  William,  the  Red  King,  till  the  deputies 
from  the  city  of  London  should  approach,  to  ofler  on  their  knees  the 
bags  of  gold  she  had  demanded ;  when  suddenly  the  bells  of  London 
rang  out  an  alarum,  and  from  every  house  in  London  and  its  vicinity 
issued  a  man  with  a  sword  in  his  hand.  ^  Just,"  says  the  old  chronicler, 
^  like  bees  swarming  round  the  hive  when  it  is  attacked."  A  formidable 
army  soon  gathered  in  the  streets,  ready  to  defend  themselves  from  de- 

heimldic  blazonry.  The  inscription,  in  Roman  letters,  is  S-MATUIDIS-  DEI  • 
GRATIA  •  ROMANORUM  •  REGINA.  Tlie  manner  of  sitting,  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  drapery  on  the  knees,  resemble  the  portrait  of  the  mother  of  th«* 
rmpreas  deaeribed  in  her  memoir. 

*  J  P.  Andrews.  *Carnuhert'  Hist  of  Scotland,  p.  341. 


I 


I 


HATtLDA    OF    BO  L' LOCKE. 

mtinds  of  subsidies  and  all  other  grieTanceB.  The  empms-doniina,  wjik 
her  Norman  and  Angerin  chevaliere,  by  no  means  liked  the  ida  of 
charging  this  posse  in  their  own  crooked  and  narrow  itreeta,  whew 
enifalric  evolutions  could  Rvaii  bui  little.  They  therefore  niounKKl  ihair 
steeds,  and  fled.  Scarcely  had  ihey  cleared  the  suburbs,  wlien  a  troop 
of  riiizens  broke  open  the  doors  of  the  palace,  and  finding  nu  one  Hun, 
plundered  the  eflects  leli  behind. 

The  empress,  with  her  barons  and  chevaliers,  galloped  on  the  rnod  M 
Oxford ;  and  when  they  had  arrived  there,  her  train  had  becomn  mi  nnill 
with  numerous  desertions,  that,  with  ihe  exception  of  Robert  of  Gloo- 
c«Bler,  she  entered  it  alone. 

Her  uncle,  king  David,  who  left  London  with  her,  would  ttavo  JMt 
either  his  life  or  liberty,  but  for  the  fidelity  of  his  godson,  Daiid  Ot 
phount.  Thoroughly  disgusted  with  the  obstinacy  and  haugbtiucM  of 
his  niece,  he  made  the  bMt  of  hia  way  to  his  own  borders,  li  i*  snd 
that  he  held  her  ever  after  in  low  esiimation. 

A  strong  reaction  of  popular  feeling  in  favour  of  Stephen,  or  n&ti 
of  Stephen's  queen,  followed  iliia  event.  The  counties  of  Kent  aad 
Surrey  were  already  her  own,  and  prepared  to  support  her  by  force  of 
Brms;  and  the  citizens  of  London  joyfully  received  her  within  iMr 
w&lls  once  more.  Henry  de  Blois  had  be«i  induced,  more  than  oott, 
'.o  meet  hia  roj^l  sister-in-law  secretly,  at  Guildford.  Thither  tbt 
srouglil  the  young  prince,  her  son,'  to  assist  her  in  moving  his  powufal 
uncle  to  lend  his  aid,  in  replacing  her  husband  on  the  throne.  Ilewf 
de  Blois,  touchedijy  ihe  tears  and  entreaties  i>r  these  inlorestiiig  cupplh 
cants,  and  burning  wiih  rage  at  the  insolent  treatment  he  had  recriftd 
from  the  imperial  virago,  whom  Camden  quaintly  styles  '*a  niggitkM 
wife."  solemnly  ptomised  the  queen  to  forsake  the  cause  of  lirr  tinL 

Immediately  on  his  relurn  to  Winchester,  the  preUle  foni£rd  Ui 
rasile,  and  having  prepared  all  thinga  for  declaring  hinisidf  in  farimr  rf 
his  brother,  he  sent  messengers  to  the  queen,  begging  her  to  put  hmdS 
at  the  head  of  the  Kentishmen  and  Londoners,  and  march  with  hrt  toe, 
prince  Eustace,  to  Winchester.' 

The  etnpress  Matilda,  and  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  having  some  ifUeOi- 
gence  of  Henry  de  Blois'  proceedings,  advanced  from  Oxford,  acciMBpi. 
nicd  hy  David,  king  of  Scotland,  at  the  head  of  an  army,  to  ovenwt 
him.  When  ihey  approached  the  walhi  of  Winchester,  tlie  empreu  Mat 
a  herald  to  the  legate,  requeeting  a  conference,  as  she  had  something  if 
importance  to  communicate ;  but  to  this  requisition  Henry  de  Bloia  o^ 
replied,  -"Parabo  mr,'"'  that  is,  '*  1  will  prepare  rnvBelf;"  and  lindiogifeal 
the  Norman  party  in  Winchester  were  at  preseni  too  stroitg  for  him,  it 
left  the  city,  and  retired  to  his  strong  castle  in  tlie  suburbs;  caasiBg,*! 
th«  same  time,  so  unexpecied  an  attack  to  be  made  on  the  emptn«,lte 
she  had  a  hani  race  to  gain  the  shelter  of  the  royal  citadd.* 

^uecn  Klaiilda,  with  her  son  and  »ir  William  Ypres,  at  the  he«J  cf 
Ihe  Londoners  and  the  Kentishmen,  were  soon  aAerat  the  gates  uf  ftW 
Chester;  and  the  empress  was  now  bo  cJusely  blockaded  in  her  palwt 


'TjTrelL 


*Uslin*buT7.    Gerrue. 


*  Mtiinshbuiy, 


MATILDA    OF    BOULOGNB.  157 

that  she  had  ample  cause  to  repent  of  her  vindictive  folly,  in  driving  her 
gentle  cousin  to  desperate  measures,  by  repulsing  the  humble  boon  she 
had  craved  with  such  earnest  prayers.  For  nearly  two  months  the  most 
destructive  warfare,  of  famine,  fire,  and  sword,  was  carried  ou  in  the 
streets  of  Winchester ;  till  the  empress  Matilda,  dreading  the  balls  of  fire 
which  were  nightly  thrown  from  the  legate's  castle,  and  which  had 
already  destroyed  upwards  of  twenty  stately  churches  and  several  mo- 
nasteries, prevailed  on  her  gallant  brother  to  provide  for  her  retreat. 
This  he  and  her  uncle  David,  king  of  Scodand,  did,  by  forcing  their 
vay  through  the  besiegers  at  swords'  points ;  but  it  was  at  the  cost  of 
the  noble  earl's  liberty.  While  the  empress  and  the  king  of  Scotland, 
by  dint  of  hard  riding,  escaped  to  Lutgershall,  the  earl  of  Gloucester 
arrested  the  pursuit,  by  facing  about  and  battling  on  the  way,  till  almost 
ill  his  followers  were  slain,  and  he  was  compelled  to  surrender,  after  a 
desperate  defence.  This  skirmish  took  place  on  the  14th  of  September, 
1141.  The  earl  of  Gloucester  was  conducted  to  queen  Matilda  at  Win- 
chester, and  she  with  great  joy  committed  him  to  the  charge  of  William 
of  Tpres,  as  a  sure  hostage  for  the  safety  of  the  king  her  husband. 

The  Wife  of  king  Stephen  obtained  the  praise  and  admiration  of  all 
parties,  by  her  generous  conduct  to  her  illustrious  captive ;  for,  instead 
of  loading  him  with  chains,  and  subjecting  him  to  the  same  cruel  treat- 
ment under  which  her  beloved  lord  was  suiiering,  the  confinement  of 
the  earl  of  Gloucester,  at  Rochester  Castle,  was  alleviated  by  every 
indulgence  consistent  with  the  safe  custody  of  his  person.* 

The  empress  and  her  party,  with  some  difficulty,  fied  from  Lutgershall 
to  Devises,  where  she  Mras  so  closely  pursued  by  the  queen's  troops, 
that  she  only  escaped  their  vigilance  by  personating  a  corpse,  wrapped 
io  grave-clothes,  and  being  placed  in  a  coffin,  which  was  bound  with 
cords*  and  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  some  of  her  trusty  partisans'  to 
Gloucester,  the  stronghold  of  her  valiant  brother,  where  she  arrived, 
frint  and  weary,  with  lonff  fasting  and  mortal  terror. 

Her  party  was  so  dispirited  by  the  loss  of  her  approved  counsellor 
ind  trusty  champion,  the  earl  of  Gloucester,  that  she  was  compelled  to 
make  some  overtures  to  the  queen,  her  cousin,  for  his  release ;  but  Ma- 
tilda would  hear  of  no  other  terms  than  the  restoration  of  her  captive 
husband,  king  Stephen,  in  exchange  for  him.    This  the  empress  peremp- 
torily refuted  in  the  firat  instance,  tliough  she  ofiered  a  large  sum  of 
gold,  and  twelve  captive  earls  of  Stephen's  party,  as  her  brothcr^s  ran- 
som.   Queen  Matilda  was  inflexible  in  her  determination,  never  to  resign 
her  illustrious  prisoner,  on  any  other  condition  than  the  release  of  her 
tojral  husband.    Although  she  had  treated  the  captive  earl  most  hu- 
manely, she  now  had  recourse  to  threats ;  and  she  caused  the  countess 
of  Gloucester  to  be  informed,  that  unless   the  king  were  speedily 
exchanged  for  the  earl,  she  should  cause  him  to  be  transported  to  one 
of  her  strong  castles  in  Boulogne,'  there  to  be  kept  as  rigorously  as  Ste- 
9hen  had  been  by  the  orders  cf  the  empress  and  her  party.    Not  that  it 

'  Liogard  (from  Malmtbury),  fourth  edition,  p.  178. 

*  Brompion.    John  of  Tioemouth.    Geryase.     Knighton.  *  Malmsbury. 

TOL.  I.— i4 


I 

I 


I 


^fS8  MATILDA    OF    BO  L- LOOM. 

was  in  Ae  gcntte  nature  of  the  qwecn  lo  have  mnde  these  hatsli  rrpnnt* 
on  B  gallant  ^entletnan,  whom  the  fonune  of  war  had  placed  at  her  du< 
piieal ;  nor  did  she  proceed  to  the  use  of  thrmtii  liU  she  had  ined.  bv 
eloquent  entreaties,  to  win  eail  Robert  to  uae  his  influence  with  hi*  •■»■ 
In,  for  the  release  of  her  husband.  She  had  even  promuied  that  Iw 
•hould  be  restored  lo  all  hie  powesnoDs  and  honoura,  and  etitramd 
with  the  principal  ad  minis  nation  of  the  government,  if  he  wnold  co«k 
elude  a  peace,  geeuring  England  to  Stephen,  and  Normandif  to  th* 
empress.'  Gloucester's  high  principles,  however,  vontd  not  admit  af 
his  entering  into  any  treaty  which  he  eonBidered  prejndicial  to  hie  as- 
ter's interest ;  and,  esHeniial  as  his  presence  was  to  her,  the  obdniais 
temper  of  the  empress  woold  never  have  auttered  bar  to  purchase  Iw 
release,  at  the  price  of  restoring  Stephen  to  his  queen  arid  fneods.  Ind 
it  not  been  for  the  reaolnie  detenninalion  displayed  by  her  sist«T-in-U«, 
Aimabel,  countess  of  Gloucesier.  Fortunately,  the  person  of  StepbHi 
happened  to  be  in  the  possession  of  this  lady,  who  was  the  MgieUatne 
of  Bristol  during  the  captivity  of  Gloucester,  her  redoubted  lord.  U« 
aniieiy  for  his  rcstorBiion  being  no  less  than  that  of  the  queen  fof  ibt 
libemtion  of  Stephen,  these  two  ladies  contrived  to  arrange  a  sort  rf 
amicable  treaty,  which  ended  in  the  exchange  of  their  illusiHou*  pB- 
soners.'  This  memorable  event  look  place  in  the  month  of  NovemMH 
lUl. 

C^ueen  Matilda  was  not  long  permitted  to  enjoy  the  re-union  iriiiri 
took  place  between  her  and  her  beloved  consort,  after  she  hnd  j^iircreiiri 
in  procuring  hb  deliverance  from  the  fetters  of  her  vindictive  nval ;  fn; 
nothing  could  induce  the  empress  to  listen  to  anv  terms  of  [ui-iticsHoo. 
and  the  year  1142  commenced  with  a  mutual  renewal  of  hosiilii^ 
kelween  the  belligerent  parties. 

While  Stephen  was  pursuing  tlie  \nr  at  York,  with  the  fiirj-  tt  * 
newly  enfranchised  lion,  he  was  seiied  with  a  dangerous  niulmlv     H» 
ftfterlionate  queen  hastened   to   him  on  the  first  news  of  ', 
which  was  so  sore,  that  for  some  hours  he  was  suppct^-i 
ami  was  only  restored  lo  life  by  the  indefatigable  care  i  ■ 
consort.     In  all  probability  his  illness  was  a  return  of  Ihe  i._.  .,i._.^.... 
plaint  with  which  he  had  once  or  twice  been  afllicted,  ai  itie  coibikoc^- 
meni  of  the  internal  troubles  of  his  realm. 

Through  the  tender  aiteniions  of  his  queen,  Stephen  tvas,  howvon 
soon  afler  able  to  take  the  field  ag»in ;  which  he  did  wilh  snch  noctfm, 
thai  the  empress's  party  thought  it  high  lime  to  claim  the  aMislanc«<f 
GeolTrey,  count  of  Anjou,  who  was  now  exercising  the  furietions  of  dnk 
of  Normandy.  Geoffrey,  who  had  certainly  been  treated  by  hts  imp*' 
rial  spouse,  her  late  father  king  Henry,  and  her  English  partisan*,  u  '* 
fcllow  of  no  reckoning."  thought  proper  to  stand  on  crreinotiy,  iti 
re<)uired  the  formality  of  an  invitation,  preferred  by  the  entl  of  QlouMMcr 
in  person,  before  he  would  either  come  himself,  or  part  with  the  pttdem 
heir  of  England  and  Normandy,  prince  Henry.  The  empreas,  iaipaiitf 
!  her  firsi-bom  son,  and  to  obtain  the  Angevin  and  KmMB 

'  Halmstmry. 


MATILDA    OP    BOULOGNE.  159 

fDCCoura  to  strengthen  her  party,  prevailed  upon  her  brother  to  under- 
lAe  this  mission,  to  which  he  was  also  urged  by  all  the  empress's 
idherents. 

Gloucester  left  her,  as  he  thought^  safe  in  the  almost  impregnable 
castle  of  Oxford,  and  embarked  for  Normandy.  As  soon  as  he  was 
pone,  the  memorable  siege  of  Oxford  took  place,  which  was  pushed  by 
Stephen  with  the  greatest  ardour,  in  the  hope  of  capturing  the  empress. 
But  when  the  besieged  were  reduced  to  such  distress  for  want  of  pro- 
rision,  that  a  surrender  was  inevitable,  the  haughty  domina,  by  a  shrewd 
exercise  of  female  ingenuity,  eluded  the  vengeance  of  her  exasperated 
rival.  One  night  she,  with  only  four  attendants,  clothed  in  white  gar- 
ments* stole  through  a  postern  that  opened  upon  the  river  Thames, 
which  at  that  time  was  thickly  frozen  over  and  covered  with  snow.' 
The  white  draperies  in  which  the  empress  and  h^r  little  train  were 
envelcyped  from  head  to  foot,  prevented  the  sentinels  from  distinguishing 
their  persons,  as  they  crept  along  with  noiseless  steps  under  the  snow- 
banks, till  they  were  at  a  sufficient  distance  from  the  castle  to  exert 
their  speed.  They  then  fled  with  headlong  haste,  through  the  blindin? 
storms  that  drifted  full  in  their  faces,  as  they  scampered  over  hedges  and 
ditches,  and  heaps  of  snow  and  ice,  till  they  reached  Abington,  a  dis- 
tance of  six  miles,  where  they  took  horse,  and  arrived  safely  at  Wal- 
linfford  the  same  night.'  The  Saxon  annals  aver,  that  the  empress  was 
let  down  from  one  of  the  towers  of  Oxford  Castle,  by  a  long  rope,  and 
thai  she  fled  on  foot  all  the  long  weary  miles  to  Wallingford. 

At  Wallingford  the  empress  was  welcomed  by  her  faithful  brother, 
Robert  of  Gloucester,  who  had  just  returned  from  Normandy  with  her 
ion  prince  Henry ;  **  at  the  sight  of  whom,"  says  the  chroniders,  ^  she 
vu  so  greatly  comforte<I,  that  she  forgot  all  her  troubles  and  mortifica- 
tions, for  the  joy  she  had  of  his  presence." '  Thus  we  see  that  the 
•lemest  natures  are  accessible  to  the  tender  influences  of  maternal  love, 
powerful  in  the  heart  of  an  ehipress  as  in  that  of  a  peasant. 

Geoffrey  count  of  Anjou,  having  no  great  predilection  for  the  com- 
pany of  his  Juno,  thought  proper  to  remain  in  Normandy  with  his  son, 
the  younger  Geoffrey  of  Anjou. 

After  three  years  of  civil  strife,  during  which  the  youthful  Henry 
learned  the  science  of  arms  under  the  auspices  of  his  redoubted  uncle, 
the  earl  of  Gloucester,  the  count  of  Anjou  sent  a  splendid  train  of  Nor- 
man and  Angevin  nobles  to  England,  to  reclaim  his  heir.  Earl  Robert 
of  Gloucester  accompanied  his  princely  eleve  to  Warham,  where  they 
parteii,*  never  to  meet  again ;  for  the  brave  earl  died  of  a  fever  at  Glou- 
cesier,  October  31,  II 47,  and  was  interred  at  Bristol.  With  this  great 
man,  and  true-hearted  brother,  died  the  hopes  of  the  empress  Matilda^s 
party  for  the  present,  and  she  soon  af\er  quilted  England,  having  alien- 
■teff  all  her  friends,  by  the  ungovernable  violence  of  her  temper,  and 
her  overweening  haughtiness.  The  great  secret  of  government  consists 
inlv  in  an  accurate  knowleds^e  of  the  human  heart,  by  which  princes 

'  M.  Paru.    W.  Maliiidbury.     Sim.  Dunclin.    Ypoclipna  Neustria. 

*  Ypodijona  Neustria.     Malmtbury.     Speed.     Rapin. 

*  Gervmte.  *  Chronicle  of  Cbester,  at  cited  by  TyrreU. 


IW  MATILDA    OP    BO  U  LOCI  B. 

acquire  ihc  arl  of  coiicilialing;  ihe  a^f  lions  nf  ihoae  vooDd  ihem.  and, 
by  gniccrii!  condescensitin;,  will  llie  regnrd  of  ihe  lower  ortlfrs,  of 
whiiiii  tl)e  grettl  body  of  ibe  natiim,  empbalically  railed  '^  ihe  people,^ 
is  composed.  The  Geniuiii  educBliun,  and  the  «elf-4ufficieDcv,  of  the 
empress,  prevfn led  her  from  considering  ihe  imporlauce  of  these  lhing», 
and,  as  a  iiiatier  of  course,  she  failed  in  obtaining  the  great  object  for 
which  she  conlended- 

"Anay  with  her!"  was  the  cry  of  tlie  English  populaljoa;  "we  will 
noi  have  this  Nonnan  woman  to  reigu  over  us."  ' 

Yet  this  unpopular  claimant  of  the  throne  was  the  only  survinof 
child  and  representative  of  iheir  adored  queen  Matilda,  the  daughln  d 
B  Saxon  princess,  the  descendant  of  the  great  Alfred.  But  the  TirUM* 
of  Matilda  of  Scotland,  her  holy  spirit,  and  iier  ^ces  of  mind  Uil 
manners,  had  been  inherited,  uoi  by  her  daughter,  (who  had  been 
removed  in  her  lender  cbddhood  from  under  the  matomal  tnflueace,)  | 
but  by  lier  niece  and  name-child,  Matilda  of  Bonlogne,  who  was  un- 
doubtedly educated  under  her  wise  superintendence,  and  exhibited  all  the 
excellence  of  her  prototype.  The  younger  queen  Matilda  was,  how- 
ever, not  only  one  of  the  best,  but  one  of  the  greatest,  women  of  the 
use  in  which  she  lived.  That  she  was  perfect  in  that  which  we  have 
sliown  lo  be  the  most  important  of  all  royal  accomplishments  —  the  art 
of  plceiiiiif  —  thai  art  in  which  her  haughty  cousin  the  empress  n 


MATILDA    OF    BOULOONB.  161 

The  same  year  queen  Matilda,  jointly  with  Stephen,  founded  the  royal 
abbey  of  Feversham  in  Kent,  and  personally  superintended  its  erection. 
For  many  months  she  resided  in  the  nunnery  of  St.  Austin's,  Canter- 
bur}*,  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  work,*  it  being  her  desire  to  be  in- 
terred within  that  stately  church,  which  she  had  planned  with  such 
nnble  ta.ne.  There  is  great  probability  that  slie  was  at  this  time  in  de- 
clining health,  haring  gone  through  many  sore  trials  and  fatigues,  both 
of  mind  and  body,  dunng  the  long  protracted  years  of  civil  war.  The 
repose  of  cloistered  seclusion,  and  heavenward  employment  in  works  of 
pieiy  and  benevolence,  whereby  the  royal  Matilda  sought  to  charm 
away  the  excitement  o(f  the  late  fierce  struggle,  in  which  she  had  been 
forced  to  take  so  active  a  part,  were  succeeded  by  fresh  anxieties,  of  a 
pohtical  nature,  caused  by  the  return  of  the  young  Henry  Fitz-Empress 
in  the  following  year  (1149),  and  by  the  evident  intention  of  her  uncle, 
David  of  Scotland,  to  support  his  claims.  The  king  her  husband,  ap- 
prehending that  an  attack  <m  the  city  of  York  was  meditated,  flew  to 
arms  once  more ;  on  which  David,  aAer  couferring  knighthood  on  his 
youthful  kinsman,  retired  into  Scotland,  and  prince  Henry  returned  to 
Normandy,  not  feeling  himself  strong  enough  to  bide  the  event  of  a 
banle  with  Stephen  at  that  period.' 

A  brief  interval  of  tranquillity  succeeded  the  departure  of  these  in- 
vading kinsmen;  but  queen  Matilda  lived  not  long  to  enjoy  it  Worn 
out  witir  cares  and  anxieties,  this  amiable  princess  closed  her  earthly 
pilgrimage  at  Heningham  Castle  in  Essex,  the  mansion  of  Alberic  de 
Vere,  where  she  died  of  a  fever,  May  3d,  1151,  in  the  fifteenth  year  of 
her  husband's  reign.  Stephen  was  forty-seven  years  old  at  the  time  of 
this  his  irreparable  loss ;  Matilda  was  probably  about  the  same  age,  or  a 
little  yoimger. 

This  lamented  queen  was  interred  in  the  newly  erected  abbey  of  Fe- 
ffcrsham,  of  which  she  had  been  so  munificent  a  patroness,  having 
endowed  it  with  her  own  royal  manor  of  Lillechurch,  which  she  gave 
to  William  of  Ypres  for  his  demesne  of  Feversham,  the  spot  chosen  by 
her  as  the  site  of  this  noble  monastic  establishment,  which  was  dedi- 
cated to  St  Saviour,  and  filled  with  black  monks  of  Ouni. 

The  most  valued  of  all  the  gifls  presented  by  queen  Matilda  to  her 
favourite  abbey,  was  a  portion  of  the  holy  cross,  which  had  been  sent 
by  her  iUvstrious  uncle,  Godfrey  of  Boulogne,  from  Jerusalem,  and  was, 
therefore,  regarded  as  doubly  precious,  none  but  heretics  presuming  to 
doubt  of  its  being  ^vera  crux,^* 

^Here,"  says  that  inde&tigable  antiquary,  Weever,  ^lies  interred 
Hand,  wUe  of  king  Stephen,  the  daughter  of  Eustace  earl  of  Boulogne 
(brother  of  Godfrey  and  Baldwin,  kings  of  Jerusalem),  by  Mary  Aliie- 
ling  (sister  to  Matilda  Atheling,  wife  to  Henry,  her  husband's  predeces- 

Inm  and  ample  maintenance  for  a  limited  number  of  those  fiivonred  ladies 
who.  prefbrrinf  a  life  of  maiden  meditation  and  independence  to  the  care-wom 

Eths  of  matrimony,  are  fortunate  enough  to  obtain  sistertfhips.     A  nun  of  Sl 
idierine  may  truly  be  considered  in  a  state  of  single-blessedness. 
^  Siowe.  '  Roger  Hoveden.  '  Robert  of  Gloricester. 

14»  t 


ATII.II  A    OP    : 


aor^.     She  died  si  Heningtiam  Cutic  in  Essex,  ihe  3d  o(  May,  1151; 
whoM  epitaph  1  found  in  a  nameless  manuscript/' 


"  Aniio  milteno  C.  qniaqoagenoque  primo, 

Quo  tns  non  minuii,  H-d  lilii  noflra  lulil, 
Mstliililis  tbiix  cODJui  Sli^huii  qorxiue  Regis 

Osoidil,  iotiKDii  moribuj  el  titulig; 
Cultiil  Tcra  Dei,  cniliii  el  peupeiieL 

Hie  lubruxa  Deo,  quo  rruereiur  eo. 
Ff-mina  ti  i^OA  PoTq»  (roD5ci>nclere  r]u«que  mm 

Angelicit  Diantbai  diva  hiec  Regina  lenctar. 


ovmM 


I 

I 


The  monutjc  LaUq  of  this  inscription  may  be  thus  r(1ndefMl^- 
ihe  yon  one  tliousand  one  hundred  and  filly-one.  not  to  her  oira,n 
lo  our  great  loas,  the  happy  Illaiilda.  the  wife  of  king  Stephen,  (tied,«i>- 
Dobled  by  her  virtues  as  by  her  lilies.  She  wub  a  true  wnnhipjier  of 
Uod,  and  a  real  patroness  of  the  poor.  She  lived  subniiasive  lu  God. 
thai  she  might  afterwards  enjoy  his  presence.  If  ever  woman  dewrnd 
lo  be  carried  by  the  hands  of  angels  to  heaven,  ii  was  this  holy  queeo." 

Queen  Matilda  left  i)itee  surviving  cliildren,  by  hec  marriage  with 
Stephen :  Eustace,  Williani)  and  Mary. 

The  eldest,  prince  Eustace,  was,  after  her  death,  despatched  by  Stepbcs 
lo  the  court  of  his  royal  brother-in-law,  Louis  VII.,  to  solicit  his  tau^ 
ance  in  recovering  the  ducliy  of  Normandy,  which,  on  the  death  d 
Gcofijrey  of  .Anjou,  had  reverted  to  Henrj-  Fiiz-Empress,  tfie  righlfiil 
heir.  Louis,  who  had  good  reason  for  displeasure  against  Heat;,  n- 
invested  Etislace  with  the  duchy,  and  received  his  homage  once  laon, 
Stephen  then,  in  tlic  hope  of  securing  this  beloved  sod's  siiccessioD  in 
the  English  throne,  endeavoured  to  prevail  on  the  archbishop  of  Cantt^ 
bury  to  crown  him,  as  the  acknowledged  heir  of  England.  But  nciiluT 
the  archbishop,  nor  any  other  prelate,  could  be  induced  to  perform  tiii* 
ceremony,  lest,  as  they  said,  "  they  should  be  the  raeans  of  ii]VoUin{ 
ihe  kingdom  once  more  in  the  horrors  of  civil  war."" 

Aecordiiig  to  some  historians,  Stephen,  was  so  exasperated  at  this  re- 
fusal, thai  he  shut  all  the  bishops  up  in  one  house,  declanng  his  inlni- 
lion  lo  keep  thera  in  ward,  till  one  or  other  of  ihern  j'ietdtd  obedirat* 
to  his  will.  The  archbiahop  of  Canterbury,  however,  succoeilrd  in 
making  hie  escape  to  Normandy,  and  persuaded  Henry  Plantagcnct,  who, 
by  his  marriage  with  Deanor  duchess  of  Aquiiaine,  the  divorced  qtwtii 
of  France,  had  become  a  powerful  prince,  to  iry  his  fortune  once  mow 
in  England. 

Henry,  who  had  now  assumed  the  lilies  of  duke  of  Normani^f'  ud 
Aquiloine,  and  count  of  Anjoa,  landed  in  England,  January  llS3,bd«a 
preparations  were  made  lo  oppose  his  victorious  progress.  He  marrhrf 
directly  to  Ihe  relief  of  his  mother's  friends,  at  Wallingforil,  Anil  arttvtd 
at  a  lime  when  Eustace  was  carrying  on  operations,  in  the  nbseun  iiT 
the  king  his  lather,  who  had  gone  to  London,  to  procure  freeb  cu{t)di0 
of  men  and  money.  Eustace  maintained  his  position  till  the  reitim  id 
Siepbeti,  when  the  hostile  armies  drew  up  in  baltle-airay,  with  lb*  v 


MATILDA    OF    BOULOONB.  163 

tendon  of  deciding  the  qaestion  between  the  rival  claimants  of  the 
erown,  at  swords'  points.  An  accidental  circumstance  prevented  the 
deadly  efTusion  of  kindred  blood,  that  seemed  as  if  doomed  to  stain  the 
snows  of  the  wintry  plain  of  i^aw.  ^That  day  Stephen's  horse," 
says  Matthew  Paris,  ^  reared  furiously  thrice,  as  he  advanced  to  the  front 
to'array  his  battle,  and  thrice  fell  with  his  forefeet  flat  to  the  earth,  and 
threw  his  royal  rider.  The  nobles  exclaimed  it  was  a  portent  of  evil, 
and  the  men  mmrmnred  among  themselves  ;^  on  which  the  great  William 
de  Albini,  the  widower  of  the  late  dowager  queen  Adelicia,  took  advan- 
tage of  the  pause,  which  this  superstitious  panic  on  the  part  of  Stephen's 
adherents  had  created,  to  address  the  king  on  the  horrors  of  civil  war, 
and  reminding  him  of  the  weakness  of  his  cause,  and  the  justice  of  that 
of  his  opponent,  implored  him  to  avoid  the  effusion  of  his  subjects' 
blood,  by  entering  into  an  amicable  arrangement  with  Henry  Plantagenet" 
Stephen  and  Henry,  accordingly,  met  for  a  personal  conference,  in  a 
meadow  at  Wallingford,  with  the  river  Thames  flowing  between  their 
armies,  and  there  settled  the  terms  of  pacification,  whereby  Stephen  was 
to  enjoy  the  crown  during  his  life,  on  condition  of  solemnly  guarantee- 
ing the  sQCcession  to  Henry  Plantagenet,  to  the  exclusion  of  his  own 
children.'  Henry,  on  his  part,  swore  to  confirm  to  them  the  earldom  of 
Boulogne,  the  inheritance  of  their  mother,  the  late  queen  Matilda,  and  all 
the  personal  property  and  possessions  enjoyed  by  Stephen,  during  the 
rrign  of  his  uncle,  Henry  I.  Afier  the  treaty  was  ratified,  William  de 
Albini  first  affixing  his  sign  manual,  as  the  head  of  the  barons,  by  the 
style  and  title  of  William  earl  of  Chichester,'  Stephen  unbraced  his 
annonr,  in  token  of  peace,  and  Henry  saluted  him  as  ^^  king,"  adding  the 
endearing  name  of  ^  father ;"  and  if  Polydore  Vergil,  and  other  chroniclers 
who  rdate  this  incident,  are  to  be  believed,  not  without  good  reason. 

Of  a  more  romantic  character,  however,  is  the  circumstantial  account 
of  the  cause  of  this  pacification,  as  related  by  that  courtly  historian, 
Mattliew  Paris,  which,  though  he  only  mentions  it  as  a  report,  is  of  too 
remariuble  a  nature  to  be  omitted  here.  We  give  the  passage  in  his 
own  words  :— 

^  The  empress,  they  say,  who  had  rather  have  been  Stephen's  para- 
mour than  his  foe,  when  she  saw  him  and  her  son  arrayed  against  each 
other,  and  their  armies  ready  to  engage  on  Egilaw  Heath,  caused  king 
Stephen  to  be  called  aside,  and  coming  boldly  up  to  him,  she  said^ — 

^  ^  What  mischievous  and  unnatural  thing  go  ye  about  to  do  ?  Is  it 
meet  the  &ther  should  destroy  the  son,  or  the  son  kill  the  sire  ?  For  the 
love  of  the  most  high  God,  fling  down  your  weapons  from  your  hands, 
sith  that  (as  thou  well  knowest)  he  is  indeed  thine  own  son :  for  you 
well  know  how  we  turabi  were  acquaint  before  I  wedded  Geoflrey  P 
The  king  knew  her  words  to  be  sooth,  and  so  came  the  peace."  ^ 

The  moet  doubtful  part  of  this  story  is,  that  the  empress  is  represented 
aa  making  this  communication  personally  to  Stephen,  yet  no  other  his- 
torian mentions  that  she  uras  in  England  at  this  period,  much  less  that 

'  Henry  of  Huntingdon.     Lord  Lyttleton.    Speed.    Tierney's  Arundel. 

'  Tiemejr's  Arundel.    Matthew  Paris.    Speed.  '  Tierney's  Arundel. 

*  Matthew  Parii. 


I 


I 


164  MATILDA    OF    BOtLOOKB. 

the  was  the  aalhor  of  ihe  pnrilicaiinn.  Lord  Lyillelon,  however,  in  hii 
hiaiory  of  Henry  11^  says,  "  that  at  one  of  his  mierviews  with  Sirphen, 
previous  to  the  settlement  of  the  succession  on  Henry,  thai  prince  u 
stated  by  an  old  author  ta  have  claimed  the  king  for  his  fkilin,  on  the 
confession  of  the  empress,  when  she  supposed  herself  lo  he  on  a  <)cBlb- 
heil."  Kapin  abo  mentions  the  report.  Thai  which  lends  most  colooi 
to  the  lale,  is  the  fact,  that  the  empress  Matilda's  second  son  OenlTrey, 
on  the  death  of  his  father,  set  up  a  claim  to  the  earldom  of  Anjnn, 
gronndcd  on  the  supposed  illegitimacy  of  prince  Henry.  Tbii  ungn- 
cioua  youth  even  went  so  far  as  to  obtain  the  leslimony  of  the  An^vtis 
harona,  who  witnessed  the  lust  moments  of  the  count  his  father,  lo  the 
Msertion  "  that  the  expiring  Geoflrey  named  him  aa  the  successor  to  hii 
dominions,  because  he  suspected  his  elder  brother  to  be  the  son  M 
Stephen." ' 

Prince  Eustace  was  «o  much  enraged  at  the  manner  in  which  ha 
inierests  had  been  compromised  by  the  treaty  of  Wallingford,  that  ht 
withdrew,  in  a  trenspori  of  indignation,  from  the  field,  and  gBlhertn^ 
toother  a  sort  of  free  coropany,  of  the  malcontent  adherents  of  hn 
father's  party,  he  marched  towards  Bury  Si.  Edmund''s,  ravaging  and 
laying  under  contribution  all  the  country  through  which  he  fmaaei. 
Tlie  monks  of  Bury  received  him  honoarably,  and  oAered  to  re&«ab  Uf 
men,  but  he  sternly  replied,  "  That  he  came  not  for  meal  bui  moaer." 
and  demanded  a  subsidy,  which  being  denied  by  the  hretliren  of  St.  Ei)- 
nmnd — "■  they  being  unwilling."  they  said, ''  to  be  the  means  of  nisii^ 
fresh  civil  wars,  which  fell  heavily  on  all  peacefully  disposed  men.  tal 
heaviest  of  all  on  the  clergy" — Eustace,  reckless  of  all  moral  reatninia, 
instantly  plundered  the  monastery,  and  ordered  all  the  com  imd  othor 
provisions  belonging  to  these  civil  and  hospitable  ecclesiastic*  k>  be 
rarried  to  his  own  castle,  near  the  town ;  and  "  then  sitting  down  lo 
dinner  iu  a  frenzy  of  rage,  the  first  morsel  of  meat  he  essayed  to  ainl- 
low  choked  him,"  says  the  [Chronicler,  who  relates  this  act  of  wrimg  md 
violence.  According  to  some  historians,  Eustace  died  of  a  brain  ferer. 
on  the  10th  of  August,  1153.'  His  body  was  conveyed  to  FevetBhan 
Abbey,  and  was  interred  by  the  side  of  his  mother,  qoeeii  Matilda. 
Eustace  left  no  children  by  his  wife,  Constance  of  France. 

William,  the  third  son  of  Stephen  and  Matilda,  inherited  hia  mollMf'l 
earldom  of  Boulogne,  which,  together  wiih  that  of  Morlagne,  and  aO  hii 
father's  private  property,  were  secured  to  him  by  the  treaty  of  Walling 
ford.  He  is  mentioned  in  thai  treaty  by  name,  aa  having  done  boffis^ 
lo  Henry  of  Anjou  and  Normandy-  Shortly  afterwards,  however,  thn 
prince,  though  offender  aee,  entered  into  a  conspiracy  with  Bome  of  lb* 
Flemish  mercenaries,  to  surprise  the  person  of  prince  Henry  on  Barham 
Cowns,  as  he  was  riding  from  Dover,  in  company  with  the  king.  Ste- 
phen himself  is  noi  wholly  clear  from  a  suspicion  of  being  coae«nM«IiL 
this  plot,  which  failed  through  an  accident  which  befell  prince  Wiltiua, 
for  just  before  the  assault  should  have  taken  place,  he  was  thrown  bjrhb 
metilesorae  steed,  and  had  ihe  ill  tuck  lo  break  his  leg.     Henry,  on  n> 

'Vila  Gau&edi  de  NoimondL  *Spee>:t. 


MATILDA    OF    BOULOGNE.  165 

eeiTioi^  a  secret  hint  of  what  was  in  agitation,  took  the  opponnnity  of 
the  coofusion  created  by  William's  fall,  to  ride  off  at  full  speed  to  Can- 
terbury, and  soon  after  sailed  for  Normandy. 

It  does  not  appear  that  he  bore  any  ill-will  against  William  de  Blois 
for  this  treacherous  design,  as  he  aifVerwards  knighted  him,  and  con- 
firmed to  him  hia  mother's  earldom,  and  whaterer  was  possessed  by 
Stephen  before  his  accession  to  the  throne.  This  prince  died  in  the 
year  1160,  while  attending  Henry  II.  on  his  return  home  itom  the  siege 
of  Thoulouse. 

The  lady  Marie  de  Blois,  the  only  surviving  daughter  of  Stephen  and 
Blatilda,  took  the  veil,  and  was  abbess  of  the  royal  nunnery  of  Rumsey, 
in  which  her  grandmother,  Mary  of  Scotland,  and  her  great  aunt,  Ma- 
tilda, the  good  queen,  were  educated.  When  her  brother  William,  count 
of  Boulogne,  died  without  issue,  the  people  of  Boulogne,  desiring  to 
have  her  for  their  countess,  Matthew,  the  brother  of  PhiUp,  count  of 
Flanders,  stole  her  from  her  convent,  and,  marrying  her,  became  in  her 
right  count  of  Boulogne.  She  was  his  wife  ten  years,  when,  by  sen- 
tence of  the  pope,  she  was  divorced  from  him,  and  forced  to  return  to 
her  mooastery.  She  had  two  daughters  by  this  marriage,  who  were 
allowed  to  be  legitimate ;  and  Ida,  the  eldest,  inherited  the  earldom  of 
Boologiie,  in  right  of  her  grandmother,  Matilda,  Stephen's  queen. 

Stej^n  died  at  Dover,  of  the  iliac  passion,  October  25th,  1154,  in 
the  fifty-first  year  of  his  age,  and  the  nineteenth  of  his  reiffu. 

He  was  buried  by  the  side  of  his  beloved  queen  Matilda,  and  their 
aaibrtiuiate  son  Eustace,  in  the  abbey  of  Feversham.  ^  His  body  rested 
here  in  qoietness,"  myn  Stowe,  ^  till  the  dissolution,  when,  for  the  tri- 
fling gain  of  the  lead  in  which  it  was  lapped,  it  was  taken  up,  uncoffined, 
ind  plunged  into  the  river: — so  uncertain  is  man,  yea,  the  greatest 
princes,  of  any  rest  in  this  world,  even  in  the  matter  of  burial."  Honest 
old  Speed,  by  way  of  conclusion  to  this  quotation  from  his  brother 
chronicler,  adds  this  anathema :  ^  And  restless  may  their  bodies  be  alstt, 
who,  Ux  filthy  lucre,  thus  deny  the  dead  the  quiet  of  their  graves !" 


ELEANORA  OF  AQUITAINE, 

QUEEN    OF    UENRY   II. 


I 


CHAPTER  1. 

Froren^al  qutem — Cbuntry  of  Elranoia  of  Aquilaiof — Her  gnod&tltn — OMd 
pf  luc  fiuliei — Her  grmi  inhenaiice — Muiiage — Become*  qunmi  otFmniM 
BeBUtjr — Sbe  becocnu  s  cnunJei — Hei  gUBid  of  Amozona — BicMWM  mi 
lailiot  eacumbci  itis  um}' — Occaaion  <Iercsl~-Refu^  wilh  quvan's  —h . 
Eleanois's  coijucthi?* — Relumi  u>  France  —  Hei  clisgusu — Tamil*— Staif 
PlBFiUGenel— ^'nndiils— Birih  of  inlanl  piincei! — Eleanora  ialti  in  lora  wU 
Henry — Je«Iou!ic»— She  opplios  for  divorce — Her  matriBgo  dis»l*ttd-^» 
iiinu  U  Aquilame — Adventures  on  jframey — Marries  Hanry  Planinfr"''— 
Knli  of  b«r  mit — Enablea  Henry  lo  ftaia  England — Henrj'i  loro  tot  Bd* 
mood — Roturci  to  Eieauora — Sunwedg  to  tlia  EnglUb  ihrono  —  Elonat 
crnwneJ  at  Weauoiiuier — Cotiunie — Binh  of  pHnca  Henr; — Qiun  piWMW 
bei  iiif&nis  10  ibe  horoni — Dcoib  of  eldest  son — Her  court — Tiafcil/  Jfi*t*t 
before  Lei — Uor  hiialsnd — His  clianu^tei — Rosomorid  diKOtereJ  hf  tbaqwM 
— Eleonora's  children — Binh  ofptinoe  Geoiffrey — Eleanon  r^geni  of  Eaflnl 
— Guct  to  Noniisndy — Conclusion  of  empren  Maalda'i  nienioit — Mldllt 
resent  of  Naroiaiidy  —  Medutteg  pL-aae  —  Uiei— -Tonili  —  Eleuwrk  Kona* 
regent — She  goes  lo  Aquilaiue. 

The  lire  of  ihe  consort  or  Henry  II.  caramencee  ihe  bio^rapluea  of* 
Mries  of  Provencal  princesses,  with  whom  the  eulier  inotiArchs  of  ont 
royal  liouse  or  PJantngenel  allied  iliemselves,  fur  upwards  of  ■  ccdIdcT' 
ImpoTtani  efTecls,  nol  only  on  ihc  ijomesiic  hialoty  of  ihe  court  of  Eng- 
land, btil  on  its  cotamercc  and  statistics,  may  be  truceil  to  tu  union,  bf 
B  of  tliis  queen,  wiih  ilie  moat  polished  and  eivilized  people  on  live 
face  of  ihe  earth,  la  the  Proren^als  of  the  twelfth  and  ihiriet^lh  mUK 
riea  indisputably  were.  With  the  arts,  the  idealiiies,  and  the  relioeoiaitt 
of  life,  Eleanom  brought  acquisitions  of  more  importance  lo  the  Aoj^ 
Nonnan  people,  than  even  that  "  great  Provence  dower"  ou  n&A 
Dante  dwells  with  such  earnestness. 

But  before  the  sweet  provinces  of  the  south  were  united  to  EitfliBd, 
by  the  marriage  of  iheir  heiress  with  the  heir  of  the  Conqnenu,  a 
tissue  of  incidents  had  chequered  the  life  of  the  duchesa  of  A 
and  it  is  necessary  to  trace  tficm,  before  we  cut  describe  her 
i)ueen  of  England, 

It  would  be  in  vain  to  search  on  a  map  for  the  doiaiiiioiis  of  ridinii. 
under  the  title  of  dukedom  of  Aquilaine.  In  the  eleventh  coDtiKf,  (he 
roimtiea  of  Guienne  and  Gascony  were  erected  into  this  dukedom,  afiu 

cm) 


BLBAIfORA    OF    AQUITAINB.  167 

the  ancient  kingdom  of  Provence,  establislied  by  a  diet  of  Charlemagne/ 
had  been  dismembered.  Julius  Csesar  calls  the  south  of  Gaul,  Aquitaine, 
from  the  numerous  rivers  and  fine  ports  belonging  to  it;  and  the  poetical 
population  of  this  district  adopted  the  name  for  their  dukedom,  from  the 
classics. 

The  language  which  prevailed  all  over  the  south  of  France  was  called 
Provencal,  from  the  kingdom  of  Provence ;  and  it  formed  a  bond  of 
national  union  among  the  numerous  independent  sovereigns  under  whose 
feudal  s\nj  this  beautiful  country  was  divided.  Throughout  the  whole 
tract  of  oountry,  from  Navarre  to  the  dominions  of  the  dauphin  of 
Auvergne,  and  from  sea  to  sea,  the  Proven9al  language  was  fipoken — a 
language  which  combined  the  best  points  of  French  and  Italian,  and  pre- 
sented peculiar  facilities  for  poetical  composition.  It  was  called  the 
langue  cToCy  sometimes  langue  d^oc  et  noj  the  tongue  of  ^^yes"  and 
^00,^  because,  instead  of  the  ^^oiii"  and  ^^non''  of  the  rest  of  France, 
the  affirmative  and  negative  were  ^^oc"  and  '^  no."  The  ancestors  of 
Eleanora  were  called  par  excellence  the  lords  of  ^Oc"  and  ^^JVb.''  Wil- 
liam IX.,  her  grandfather,  was  one  of  the  earliest  professors  and  most 
liberal  patrons  of  the  art  His  poems  were  models  of  imitation  for  all 
the  succeeding  troubadours.' 

The  descendants  of  this  minstrel  hero  were  Eleanora,  and  her  sister 
Petronilla.  They  were  the  daughters  of  his  son,  William  count  de 
Poiton,  by  one  of  the  daughters  of  Raymond  of  Thoulouse.'  William 
of  Poitou  was  a  pious  prince ;  which,  together  with  his  death  in  the 
Holy  Land,  caused  his  Other's  subjects  to  call  him  Si  William.  The 
mother  of  this  prince  was  the  great  heiress  Phiiippa  of  Thoulouse, 
duchess  of  Quienne  and  Grascony,  and  countess  of  Thoulouse  in  her 
own  right  Before  Phiiippa  married,  her  husband  was  William,  the 
seventh  count  of  Poitou  and  Saintonge ;  aderwards  he  called  himself 
William  the  fourth  duke  of  Aquitaine.  He  invested  his  eldest  son  with 
the  county  of  Poitou,  who  is  termed  William  the  tenth  of  Poitou.  He 
did  not  live  to  inherit  the  united  provinces  of  Poitou  and  Aquitaine, 
which  comprised  nearly  the  whole  of  the  south  of  France.  The  rich 
inheritance  of  Thoulouse,  part  of  the  dower  of  the  duchess  Phiiippa, 
was  pawned  for  a  sum  of  money,  to  the  count  of  St  Gilles,  her  cousin, 
which  enabled  her  husband  to  undertake  the  expense  of  the  crusade  led 
by  Robert  of  Normandy.  The  count  St  Gilles  took  possession  of 
Thoulouse,  and  withheld  it,  as  a  forfeited  mortgage,  from  Eleanora,  who 
finally  inherited  her  grandmother^s  rights  to  this  lovely  province. 

The  fiither  of  Eleanora  left  Aquitaine  in  1132,  with  his  younger  bro- 
ther, Raymond  of  Poitou,  who  was  chosen  by  the  princes  of  the  cru- 
sade that  year  to  receive  the  hand  of  the  heiress  of  Conrad  prince  of 
Antioch,  and  maintain  that  bulwark  of  the  Holy  Land  against  the  assaults 
of  pagans  and  infidels.  William  fell,  aiding  his  brother  in  this  arduous 
contest;  but  Raymond  succeeded  in  establishing  himself  as  prince  of 
Antioch. 


>  Atlas  G^ogmphique.  *  Sismondi's  Literature  of  the  South. 

*  Rer.  ScripL  de  Franc. ;  likewise  Suger. 


t 
I 


I 


168  BLKa:«ORA     of    AQtlTAtKB. 

The  gnuiflfsiher  of  Eleonora  had  been  piy  and  even  licratinns  in  hk 
yniiili ;  and  now,  ni  the  age  of  siiiy-eighL,  he  wished  to  devote  wum 
limp,  lieforc  his  death,  to  meililation  and  penitence,  for  the  siiiB  nf  hi* 
early  life.  When  his  gran  d-d  sni^hier  had  aiiained  her  fouileenth  jtu, 
he  eommenced  his  career  of  self-denial,  by  Eummoning  the  baronage  iJ 
Aquiiaine.  and  rOTniDunicaiing  his  intenljon  of  abdicatini;  in  faroiir  uf 
his  grend-daughler,  to  whom  ihey  all  took  the  oath  of  aljegianre.'  lie 
then  opened  his  great  project  of  uniting  Aquicaine  wiih  France,  lijr  ji». 
ing  EI«snora  in  inarriage  to  the  heir  of  Louis  leGros.'  The  bmat 
agrred  lo  this  proposal,  on  condition  that  (he  lawa  and  cnstoma  of  Aqni- 
laine  should  be  held  invtolale ;  and  thai  ihe  consent  of  the  young  pri»- 
cesa  should  be  obtained.  Eleanora  had  an  inlervien  with  her  auiiorf  utd 
professed  herself  pleased  with  the  arrangemcnl. 

Louis  and  Elesnora  weie  immediately  married  with  grent  pomp,  >t 
Boiirde«ux ;  »nd,  on  the  aolemn  resignation  of  duke  William,  the  youihfal 
pair  were  crowned  duke  and  duchess  of  Aquitaine,  Angus!  1, )  137. 

On  the  conclusion  of  this  grand  ceremony,  duke  William,*  grandfitc 
of  the  bride,  laid  down  his  robes  and  insignia  of  sovereignly,  and  took 
up  the  henuit's  cowl  and  statT.  He  departed  on  a  pilgrimaige  «i  SL 
James's  of  Compostenella,  in  Spain,  and  died  soon  after,  very  pcaiUsli 
in  one  of  the  cells  of  that  rocky  wilderness.' 

At  tlie  time  when  duke  William  resigned  the  dominions  of  ih«  (ovlb 
lo  his  grand-daughter,  he  was  the  most  powerful  prince  in  Europe-  Hit 
rich  ports  of  Bourdeauz  and  Sainlonge  supplied  him  with  commercjil 
wealth  i  his  maritime  power  was  immense ;  his  court  was  Uio  focw  wf 
learning  and  luxury ;  and  it  must  be  owned,  thai  at  the  accession  uf  (tie 
fair  Eleanora,  this  court  had  become  not  a  little  licentious. 

Louis  and  his  bride  obtained  immediate  possession  of  Poitou.  Gi» 
cony,  Biscay,  and  a  large  territory  extending  beyond  the  PyreoMs. 
They  repaired  afterwards  lo  Poiciiers,  where  Louis  was  soloiRdr 
crowued  duke  of  Guienne,'    Scarcely  was   this  ceremony  condoM 

■  Suger.     OrdericDs  Vimlit. 

'Cillnl  Le  Jeune,  lo  duiinguiih  him  from  tut  fklhei  Louii  TL.  who  c«u*ed  tot 
tna  ID  be  crowned  in  bU  lirelune. 

'Mouiaifpe,  "who  speaks  fWnn  his  own  IochV  tnulTiJOTU  of  ibo  louclk,  a^gnt 
thai  Jnke  WilliaiD  lived  in  hia  henniagp,  ai  Monisprni,  leu  ot  ltt-«lt«  fmr\ 
wealing,  a*  a  penaixte  Ibr  his  youthful  liDi.  hii  annoui  nnder  hii  bennii'i  woidk 
Ii  i>  RUiI  by  Dlhera,  that  be  died  a*  a  bemiit.  in  a  grono  at  Florenta,  alliv  kaTliC 
maccniHl  Ml  bod]'  by  tremeiulou)  penoncei,  and  ettabliihed  iba  mnt*  (MM 
ut  the  Guillemiuei. 

■To  this  greai  prines,  ibe  anceslor,  ihrougb  Elennora  of  A<]uilaiim,af  o«T  Dfal 
iiae.  niny  be  traced  armorial  bearings,  and  a  war-iry,  whose  origbt  luu  OMI 
liille  perplexed  ibe  leaders  of  English  history.  The  patron  ■■tai  of  ffiigliai. 
Si.  OwrgE,  was  adtrpted  liiDro  the  Aqoiiaine  dnlce*.  as  we  find,  from  the  JA  ff 
Uie  Ptaiich  hecald,  Gilles  de  Bonnier,  ttui  ihe  duke  of  Aiuifuie'i  aW,  nt  W^ 
pry,  wai.  "  St  George  for  the  puiHani  duke."  Ilii  crest  Wu  a  {•efiaH  ;  a^  IM 
ileMcndani*  in  Englaml  bore  leopaidt  on  Ibeit  sbielils  lill  after  the  noM  af  SI- 
ward  I.  Edward  III.  it  called  "  valiant  pard" in  his  epimphs;  ami  iTil  i«tni<l 
of  Germany  tent  Henry  Ut.  a  present  of  tliree  leopards,  expmaly  Mjiim  iktf 
were  in  compliment  and  atluaion  to  bis  armorial  b^iota, 

*Bwer,  ciied  by  Oilbrd.  ' 


BLBAlfORA    OF    AQUITAINB.  ^69 

when  Eleuiom  and  her  hosband  were  summoned  to  the  death-bed  of 
Louis  Vf^  that  admirable  king  and  lawgiver  of  France.  His  dying 
word^  were, 

^  Remember,  royalty  is  a  public  trust,  for  the  exercise  of  which  a 
rigorous  account  will  be  exacted  by  Him  who  has  the  sole  disposal  of 
erowns  and  sceptres.^ 

So  spoke  the  great  legislator  of  France,  to  the  youthful  pair  whose 
wedlock  had  united  the  north  and  south  of  France.  On  the  conscien- 
tious mind  of  Louis  VII.  the  words  of  his  dying  father  were  strongly 
impressed,  but  it  was  late  in  life  before  his  thoughtless  partner  profited 
by  them. 

Eleanora  was  very  beautiful ;  she  had  been  reared  in  all  the  accom- 
plishments of  the  south ;  she  was  a  fine  musician,  and  composed  and 
itng  the  chajuons  and  tetuons  of  Provengal  poetry.  Her  native  trouba- 
dours expressly  inform  us  that  she  could  both  read  and  write.  The 
government  of  her  dominions  was  in  her  own  hands,  and  she  frequently 
resided  in  her  native  capital  of  Bourdeaux.  *  She  was  perfectly  adored 
hf  her  southern  subjects,  who  always  welcomed  her  with  joy,  and  they 
bitteriy  mourned  her  absence,  when  she  was  obliged  to  return  to  her 
court  at  Paris ;  a  court  whose  morals  were  severe ;  where  the  rigid  rule 
of  St  Bernard  was  observed  by  the  king  her  husband,  as  if  his  palace 
had  been  a  convent.  Far  difierent  was  the  rule  of  Eleanora,  in  the  cities 
of  the  south. 

The  political  sovereignty  of  her  native  dominions,  was  not  the  only 
anthority  exercised  by  Eleanora  in  ^  gay  Guienne."  She  was,  by  here- 
ditary riffht,  chief  reviewer  and  critic  of  the  poets  of  Provence.  At  cer- 
tain iSsflUvals  held  by  her,  after  the  custom  of  her  ancestors,*  called 
Courts  of  Love,  all  new  sirventes  and  cJiansons  were  sung  or  recited  be- 
fc»e  her,  by  the  troubadours.  She  then,  assisted  by  a  conclave  of  her 
ladies,  sat  in  judgment,  and  pronounced  sentence  on  their  literary  merits. 
She  was  herself  a  popular  troubadour  poet.  Her  chansems  were  remem- 
bered, long  aAer  death  had  raised  a  barrier  against  flattery,  and  she  is 
reckoned  among  the  authors  of  France.' 

The  amusements  of  the  young  queen  of  France  seemed  little  suited 
to  the  austere  habits  of  Louis  VII. ;  yet  she  had  the  power  of  influencing 
him  to  commit  the  only  act  of  wUnil  injustice  which  stains  the  annals 
of  his  reign. 

The  sister  of  the  queen,  the  young  Petronilla,  whose  beauty  equalled 
that  of  her  sister,  and  whose  levity  far  surpassed  it,  could  find  no  single 
roan,  in  all  France,  to  bewitch  with  the  spell  of  her  fascinations,  but 
chose  to  seduce  Rodolf,  count  of  Vermandois,  from  his  wife.  This 
prince,  who  was  cousin  and  prime  minister  to  Louis  VII.,  had  married  a 
sister  of  the  count  of  Champagne,  whom  he  divorced  for  some  frivolous 
pretext,  and  married  the  fair  Petronilla,  by  the  connivance  of  Eleanora. 
The  count  of  Champagne  laid  his  sister's  wrongs  before  the  pope,  who 
commanded  Vermandois  to  put  away  Petronilla,  and  to  take  back  the 
injured  sister  of  Champagne.    Queen  Eleanora,  enraged  at  the  dishonour 

*  Siimondi.  *  Nottndamiu*s  History  of  Frovenoe,  and  I>a  Chein«. 

VOL.  J.«-15 


I 


170  ELEAXOBA     OF     AQLITAIKE. 

of  Petrcinil]&,  prevailed  on  her  husband  to  punish  the  count  of  Ch4a) 
pit^ne  for  his  ioierference.  Loui^,  who  already  had  cause  of  oSeoc* 
agHJiisi  t)ie  count,  invadeil  Champagne  al  the  heaJ  of  a  large  aimv,  atul 
IwgBii  a  devastating  war,  in  ihc  course  of  which  a  mosl  dreailful  ncruf- 
TCMM  happened,  al  the  siormiiig  of  Vilry:  the  calliedral,  wlieirin  tht^ 
lecn  hundred  persons  had  taken  refuge,  was  burnl^  and  the  poor  [itciple 
perished  miserably. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Si.  Bernard  preached  the  crusade  al  Xe- 
zalai,  in  Burgundy.  King  Louis  and  queen  Eieanora,  with  all  ibrir 
courl,  came  to  hear  the  eloquent  sa'uit ;  and  such  crowds  attf  ndeil  th* 
niynl  auilitors,  that  Sl  Bernard  was  forced  to  preach  in  the  market-place, 
for  no  cathedral,  however  large,  could  contain  them.  Sl  Bcmaiil 
loucbeil  with  so  much  eloquence  on  the  murderous  conJlagTatiiio  at 
Viiry,  that  the  heart  of  the  pious  king  Louis,  full  of  penileiice  for  llrf 
sad  efTMts  of  his  desiruciiveness  on  hia  own  subjecu,  resolved  to  atou 
for  il  to  the  God  of  mere)-,  by  carrying  sword  nod  fire,  to  destroy  ihon- 
eanda  of  his  fellow-creatures,  who  had  neiUicr  otl^njed  him,  nor  evtft 
heard  of  him.  tiis  quecu,  whose  inSueuce  had  led  to  llie  misdeed  il 
Vitry,  likewise  becatne  penitent,  and  as  sovereign  of  Aquiiaiue,  vowed  M 
accompany  her  lord  lo  the  Holy  Land,  and  lead  the  forces  of  the  Suudi 
to  the  relief  of  the  Chrisiian  kingdom  of  Jerusalem. 

The  wise  and  excellent  abbot,  Suger,  the  chancellor  of  Louis  VIl., 
endeavoured  Co  prevail  on  his  royal  master  to  relinquish  his  mad  elpt- 
dilioo  to  Syria,  assuring  him  that  it  would  bring  ruin  on  his  countrj; 
but  ihe  Ikiiaiicism  of  the  king  was  proof  against  such    persuasisM. 
Moreover,  the  romantic  idea,  of  becoming  a  female  crusader.  luJ  c<>i 
into  the  ligbl  head  of  Eieanora  his  queen;  and,  being  at  ilii~ 
very  flower  of  her  youth  and  beauty,  she  swayed  the  K'    . 
according  to  her  will  and  pleasure.     Suger  gives  us  the  de^i 
pre|iaraiions  F.Ieanom  made  for  this  campaign,  which  were  nl  • 
lo  raise  the  idea,  that  tiie  good  Elatcsman  was  romancing,  if  ciii'^-ni^ 
lary  historians  had  not  conlirmed  his  evidence.     When  queen  ElcaatKi 
received  the  cross  from  St.  Bernard,  ut  Vezalai,  she  directly  put  on  lb 
drees  of  an  Amazon ;  and  her  ladies,  all  actuated  by  the  fiune  freia;: 
mounted  on  horseback,  and  forming  a  lightly  armed  squadron,  nu- 
rounded  the  queen  when  she  appeared  in  public,  calliiig  tLemwln) 
queen  Eleanora^s  body-guard.      They   practised  Amazonii 
-and  performed  a  thousand  follies  in  public,  to  animate  their 
lical  crueaderiL     By  the  suggestion  of  tlieir  young  queen, 
madwomen  sent  tbeir  useless  dislafik,  as  presents,  to  all  i)k 
nobles  who  had  the  good  tense  lo  keep  out  of  this  insmi' 
This  ingenious  taunt  had  the  effect  of  shaming  many  wi^i 
their  belter  resolutions;  and  to  such  a  degree  was  thi"  i 
crusade  carried,  iliat,  aa  St.  Bernard  himself  owns,  whcilr 
dcserieil  by  tlieir  male  inhabitants,  and  the  land  lef\  to  be  iilli 
•nd  children. 

Such  fellow  soldiers  as  queen  Eieanora  and  her  Atnazonn,  woaU  ban 
been  quite  sulEcienl  lo  dbconceri  the  plans,  and  impede  the  pr^rrth 
of  Hutnibal  htitiaalfj  and  though  king  Louis  conducted  hiinaeU  ndl 


BtBANOJtA    OF    AqUITAIJJE.  17|| 

ftcot  ability  and  courage  id  Ilia  diflicull  cnlerprise,  no  prudence  could 
cmiolnaei  the  misfortune  of  being  eucumberEil  with  on  anny  of  lanlaslic 
waaustu  King  Lauii,rollowiiig  the  course  of  ihceinperorConnu],  whose 
MDijr,  rouncd  Djr  ihe  eloquence  of  Si.  Bcrnarci,  hud  just  preceded  iJiei% 
nilnl  wp  the  Boaphorue,  mtJ  lauded  in  Thrace. 

Th«  in»ii3  uf  <|ueeii  Elcanora  and  her  female  warriors,  were  the  raus 
tt  kll  tbe  inutfortunes  dial  befell  king  Louis  and  his  army,  especially  ii 
<i»  drfMt  u  Idodirea.'  The  king  hud  seni  forward  the  queen  and  httfi 
Ui*»,  ncorted  by  his  clioicest  troops,  undei  the  guard  of  count  Mbo^ 
otKiut.  II«  chtrged  them  to  choose  for  their  conip,  the  arid  but  cum* 
■Bwling  ground  wliich  garc  ihem  b  view  over  the  deliles  of  tlie  vulhqr 
gf  lAodicca.  While  this  detachment  was  encamping,  he,  at  the  distance 
t^fiTv  miles,  brought  up  the  rear  and  baggage,  ever  and  anon  turning  lo 
taule  bnively  with  the  akiimishing  Arab  cavalry  who  were  Itamasing 
biainarch- 

QuMB  Eloanors  acted  in  direct  opposition  lo  his  rational  direction^ 
Sb*  inaistMl  on  her  detachment  of  the  army  lialting,  in  a  lovely  romantic 
niUjr,  fiilJ  of  verdant  grass  and  gushing  fountains.  The  king  was  eom 
coinbcKd  by  the  immense  baggage  which,  \Villiani  of  Tyre  declarer,  ib^ 
ieoMln  warriors  of  queen  Eleanora  insisted  on  retaining  in  the  camp,  M 
dl  risk*.  Oarkness  began  to  fall  as  the  king  of  France  approacheu  llift 
ntiura  of  the  valley ;  and  to  bia  consteniation,  he  fauod  the  hei{;lili 
tfaove  it  unoccupied  by  the  advanced  body  of  his  troops.  FiuJing  the 
gorai  «rms  aot  encamped  there,  he  was  forced  to  enter  the  valley  ia 
b  of  her,  and  was  soon  aAcr  attacked  from  die  heights  by  swarm* 
ti»t  *f*o  engRged  him  in  the  passes  among  the  rocks,  close  to  the 
bal  spot  where  die  eintieror  Conrad  and  his  heavy  horse  had  been  dis- 
DMifiwd  but  n  few  weeKs  before.  King  Louis,  sorely  pressed  iu  one 
fwt  of  Ibis  murderous  engagement,  only  saved  his  life  by  climbing  a 
tnv,  whence  he  defended  himself  with  the  most  desperate  valour.'  At 
'rn£lh,  by  elTori*  of  personal  heroism,  he  succeeded  in  placing  himself 
•riwetu  the  dctarhment  of  his  ladies  and  the  Saracens.  But  it  was  not 
>.:  iIm  dawn  of  day  that  he  discovered  Ids  advanced  troops,  encamped 
.^1  lh«  fucnaaiic  valley  chosen  by  his  poetical  queen.  Seven  thousoiHl 
of  Um  Bower  of  French  chivalry  paid  with  tlieir  lives  the  penally  of 
'i  inenperience  iu  warlike  tactics;  all  the jirovision  was  cut 
1,  containing  the  fine  array  of  iho  lady- warriors,  wtiicli 
h  an  encumbrance  to  ihe  king,  was  plundered  by  (hfij 
\t-Jm  and  Saisccns,  and  the  whole  army  was  reduced  to  great  disirei 
-  .rusaaU-ly  Aniioch  was  near,  whose  prince  was  the  uncle  of  the  en , 
•iiiag,  quMD  of  France.  Prince  Raymond  opened  his  friendly  gates  h 
ihc  duIrcMcd  warriors  of  tlie  cross,  and  by  the  beautiful  streams  of 
Utunt)-*  Uia  defeated  Freacli  aruiy  rested  and  refreshed  diemsrtves,  n 
tbeir  rrcoQi  dinsters. 

RnyinunJ  of  Poitou  was  brother  lo  the  queen's  father,  the  b 
WiIIhoi  of  Puiluu.  There  was,  hnwever,  nothing  of  the  saint  ii 
.-<)KMitioa  of  Raymond,  who  was  stUl  young,  and  was  the  handsomeat  j 

•^m^^^  l^tmiQia, mad  Saga.  'Williainaf  1^7>a>„ 


4 

J 
I 


,  b«gagB, 
or ta  (urh 


I 


I 


179  BLBANOSA    OP    AQUtTAIXB.  ^^H 

man  of  hi*  timr.  The  onrle  anil  tiiwe,  who  hait  nrver  tncl  hcTive 
Miftw  much  charmed  wiih  rsrh  oOicT.  It  seFHis  stntnire  that  tiie  man 
wliu  lint  anaktmed  liie  JnUuusy  nf  king  LnuU,  should  siuid  in  such 
very  n Mr  relatiunship  to  hio  wife;  yet  it  ia  cerUiiii  thai  as  eoon  ai 
queen  ^eanota  had  roeuTered  her  beauty,  aomewliat  sullied  by  tli«  hard- 
ahipa  ahe  endured  in  ihe  ramp,  Khe  rommeitred  luch  a  fvries  of  coquet- 
ries with  her  hsndanme  unclr,  that  kin^  Louis,  grratly  araailaliml  a  ' 
inrensed,  hurried  her  out  of  Antiorh  one  night,  and  deciunped  tti  It 
wlem,  with  slight  teafe-taking  of  Itaymond,  or  notie  at  all. 

It  is  true,  many  autlioriliM  say  ihal  Raymond's  iiilrigues  WJA  _ 
niere  were  wholly  poltlirat,  and  that  he  woa  persuading  his  aiMU'S 
employ  her  power,  as  dueheii  of  Aquitaioe,  U>r  the  eilaDeioo  of  hit 
doniinioni,  and  hii  own  private  advantage. 

Eloanoni  was  enraged  at  her  sudden  remoi'al  from  Antioch,  ami 
enteied  the  Holy  City  in  a  moat  indignant  mood.  Jerusalem,  the  objeei 
of  (he  ardent  enthusiasm  of  every  other  crueoder,  raised  on  rvligioui 
ardour  in  her  breoM;  the  was  burning  witli  resentment,  nl  the  unaccu» 
tometl  harahneaa  king  Louis  exercised  towards  her.  In  Jen:*aleiu,  ting 
Baldwin  received  Eleanom,  with  the  honours  due  both  to  her  mnk  u 
queen  of  Franec,  and  her  power  as  a  sovereign  ally  of  the  cnuuliDg 
league ;  but  nothing  could  please  her.  It  ia  not  certain  whether  hu 
uneasiness  proceeded  from  a  eoneeiousnees  of  guilt,  or  indigiialiuD  ■( 
being  the  object  of  unfounded  suspicions ;  but  it  is  indisputable  that,  , 
after  her  forced  departure  from  Aniiorh,  all  afirciion  between  Elnnnn 
and  her  husband  was  at  an  end.  While  the  emperor  of  Germany  and  the 
king  of  France  laid  an  unsuccessful  siege  to  Damastiqs,  Eleanoia  «U 
detained  at  Jerusalem,  in  something  like  personal  restraint. 

The  great  abilities  of  Sultan  Noureddin  rendered  ihie  siege  auviit- 
ing,  and  Louis  was  glad  to  withdraw,  with  the  wreck  of  his  army,  fmn 
Asia.  After  many  perds  at  ConslanliDople,  and  detention  at  Sicily,  the 
king  and  queen  of  France  arrived  safely  in  their  own  dominions,  1N8- 
There  are  letters '  still  extant  from  Suge'r,  abbot  of  Sl  Drnis,  Uie  minif 
ter  and  conlidant  of  king  Louis,  by  which  it  appears  that  the  king  had 
made  complaints,  of  the  criminal  attachment  of  his  que«n  to  a  yi>uiig 
Saracen  emir,  of  great  beauty,  named  Sal-Addin.  For  this  miBcoodofl 
the  king  of  France  expressed  his  intention  of  obtaining  a  divorce  inna^ 
diately,  but  was  dissuaded  from  this  resolution  by  the  su^estioitt  rf 
liis  sBgacioDs  minister,  who  pointed  out  to  him  the  troubles  whidi 
would  accrue  to  France,  by  the  relinquishment  of  the  "great  Prorenp 
dnwer,''  and  that  his  daughter,  the  princess  Alarie,  would  br  dqirivN 
in  ail  probability,  of  her  mother's  rich  inheritance,  if  the  queen  wcM  « 
liberty  to  marry  again. 

This  remonstrance  so  br  prevailed  tin  Louis,  that  from  the  unrorts- 
nate  crusade,  Eleanora  resided  at  Paris,  with  all  her  usual  state  and  &i 
iiiiy,  aa  long  as  Suger  lived,  about  four  years.  She  was,  however, 
closely  watched,  and  not  penuitted  to  visit  her  southern  dominions — i 


'  III  tJiO  coileciion  of  Du  Cliesno,  wbieh  hu  fiunUhed  much 
in  Ihli  narratiVD. 


ZJ 


BLEANOBA    OF    AQUITAINE.  173 

prohibiuon  which  greatly  disquieted  her.  She  made  many  complaints, 
of  the  gloora  of  the  northern  Gallic  capital,  and  the  monkish  manners 
of  her  devout  hoshand.  She  was  particularly  indignant  at  the  plain  and 
unostentatious  clothing  of  king  Louis,  who  had  likewise  displeased  her 
Inr  sacrificing,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  dei^,  all  )\\8  long  curls,  besides 
shaving  off  hiB  beard  and  moustachios.  The  giddy  queen  made  a  con- 
itant  mockery  of  her  husband^s  appearance,  and  vowed  that  his  smooth 
kce  made  him  look  more  like  a  cloistered  priest  than  a  valiant  king. 

Thus  two  years  passed  away  in  mutual  discontent,  till,  in  the  year 
1150,  Geoffrey '  Plantagenet,  count  of  Anjou,  appeared  at  the  court  of 
Lonis  VII.  Geoffrey  did  homage  for  Noimandy,  and  presented  to  Louis 
his  son,  young  Henry  Plantagenet,  sumamed  Fitz-Empress.  This  youth 
was  about  seventeen,  and  was  then  first  seen  by  queen  Eleanora.  But 
the  scandalous  chroniclers  of  the  day  declare,  the  queen  was  much 
taken  by  the  fine  person  and  literary  attainments  of  Geofirey,  who  was 
considered  the  most  accomplished  knight  of  his  time.  Geoffrey  was  a 
married  man  \  but  queen  Eleanora  as  little  regarded  the  marriage  engage- 
ments of  the  persons  on  whom  she  bestowed  her  attention,  as  she  did 
her  own  conjugal  ties. 

About  ei^teen  months  after  the  departure  of  the  Angevin  princes, 
the  queen  <^  France  gave  birth  to  another  princess,  named  Alice.  Soon 
after  this  event,  Henry  Plantagenet  once  more  visited  Paris,  to  do  ho- 
mage for  Nonnandy  and  Anjou,  a  pleuritic  fever  having  suddenly  carried 
off  his  &ther.  Qjueen  Eleanora  now  transferred  her  former  paitiality  for 
the  &ther,  to  the  son,  who  had  become  a  noble,  martial-looking  prince, 
fill!  of  energy,  learned,  valiant,  and  enterprising,  and  ready  to  undertake 
any  conquest,  whether  of  the  heart  of  tlie  gay  queen  of  the  south,  or 
of  the  kingdom  from  which  he  had  been  unjustly  disinherited. 

Eleanora  acted  with  her  usual  disgusting  levity,  in  the  advances  she 
made  to  this  youth.  Her  beauty  was  still  unimpaired,  though  her  cha- 
Ticter  was  in  low  esteem  with  the  world.  Motives  of  interest  induced 
Henry  to  feign  a  return  to  the  passion  of  queen  Eleanora ;  his  mother^s 
cause  was  hopeless  in  England,  and  Eleanora  assured  him  that  if  she 
could  efiect  a  divorce  from  Louis,  her  ships  and  treasures  should  be  at 
his  command,  for  the  subjugation  of  king  Stephen. 

The  intimacy  between  Henry  and  Eleanora  soon  awakened  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  king  of  France,  and  the  prince  departed  for  Anjou. 
Qpeen  Eleanora  imn^diately  made  an  application  for  a  divorce,  under 
the  plea  that  king  Louis  was  her  fourth  cousin.  It  does  not  appear  that 
he  c^iposed  this  separation,  though  it  certainly  originated  from  the  queen. 
Notwithstanding  the  advice  of  Suger,  Louis  seems  to  have  accorded 
heartily  with  the  proposition,  and  the  divorce  was  finally  pronounced, 
by  a  council  of  die  church,  at  Baugenci,'  March  18,  1152;  where  the 
marriage  was  not  dissolved  on  account  of  the  queen's  adultery,  as  is 
conunonly  asserted,  but  declared  invalid  because  of  consanguinity. 

'  Via  He  GaufViHl,  Duo  de  Normaod. 
'  Sir  Harris  Nioolaa'  ChroDoloKV  of  HUtory. 
15  • 


r 


I 
I 

I 


174  KLEAItOIlA    OP    AQI'ITAI.'VB. 

Eleanofa  and  Lonis,  wiih  most  of  ilieir  relations,  mci  at  Baiigenci,  ind 
were  present  when  the  dixorce  was  pronounced.' 

When  ihe  divorce  was  firet  agilated,  Louis  VII.  tried  the  experiment 
of  seizing  several  of  ilie  strongholds  in  Guienne,  but  found  the  power 
of  ilie  Bouih  WM  too  strong  for  him.  It  is  useless  for  modem  hiitoritns 
either  to  blame  or  praise  Louis  VII.  for  his  scrupulous  honesty,  in  tt- 
storing  to  Eleanoni  her  patrimoniBl  dominions ;  he  restored  nothing  ifaM 
he  was  able  to  keep,  excepting  her  person.  Gilford,  who  aever  wW« 
a  Hue  without  Ihe  guide  of  contemporary  chronicles,  has  nuidc  it  fijlly 
apparent  that  the  queen  of  ihc  south  was  a  stronger  poieniale  than  the 
king  of  the  north.  If  the  ladr  of  Oc  and  JVo,  and  the  lord  of  Oui  and 
Abn,  had  tried  for  the  mastery,  by  force  of  arms,  the  civilized,  the  vtt- 
like,  and  maritime  Provencal  would  certainly  have  raisod  the  luuiner  of 
St.  George  and  the  golden  leopards  far  above  the  oriflantme  of  Fran«, 
and  rejoiced  ai  having  such  feir  cause  of  quarrel  with  their  suzeraio,!! 
the  rescue  of  their  princ«Bs.  RIoreover,  Louis  could  not  detain  ElesDon.  | 
without  defying  the  decree  of  the  pope,  , 

On  her  way  southward  to  her  own  countrj,'  Eleanors  stayed  »nii»     ( 
time  nt  Blois.    The  count  of  this  province  was  Thibaut,  elder  brolto    ', 
tn  king  Stephen,  one  of  the  handsomest  and  bravest  men  of  his  tinif. 
Much  captivated  with  Ihe  splendour  of  "the  great  Provence  dowa,''    ', 
Thibaut  offered  his  hand  to  his  fair  guest.  Jle  met  with  a  refusal,  whii     . 
by  no  means  turned  him  from  his  purpose,  as  he  resolved  to  ilctam  tbt 
lady,  n  prisoner  in  his  fortress,  till  she  complied  with  liis  propoaL 
Eleanora  saspected  his  design,  and  departed  by  night,  without  tlie  nn-    l 
mony  of  leave-taking.    She  embarked  on  the  Loire,  and  went  down  At    J 
■trenm  to  Tours,  which  was  then  belongiitg  to  ilie  dominions  of  Anjon. 

Here  her  good  luck,  or  dexterous  management,  brought  her  off  dar 
from  another  mal-ad venture.  Young  Geoffrey  Plantagenet,  the  otii 
brother  to  the  man  she  intended  to  marry,  had  likewise  a  great  incline 
lion  to  be  sovereign  of  the  south.  He  placed  himself  hi  atnbush,  tl  > 
part  of  the  Loire  called  ihe  Port  of  Piles,  wiih  ihe  intention  of  sanig 
Ihe  duchess  and  her  train,  and  carrj-ing  her  oft  and  marr%-ing  her.  "  Bol," 
snys  the  chronicler,  "  Eleanors  was  pre-wamed  by  her  good  angel,  ud 
she  suddenly  turned  down  a  branch  of  the  stream  soulhwarda,  towaiA 
her  own  country." 

Thither  Henry  Plantagenet,  the  elder  brother  of  Geoflwy,  nfiMi 
to  claim  the  hand  which  had  been  promised  him  monlhs  before  4* 
divorce. 

The  celerity  with  which  the  marriage  of  Eleanors  foUownl  to 
divorce,  astonished  nil  Europe ;  for  she  gave  her  hand  to  Henir  PtaB* 
tngenet,  duke  of  Normandy  and  count  of  Anjou,  only  mx  wawks  altar 
the  divorce  was  pronounced.  Eleanora  is  supposed  to  have  been  in  to 
ihirty-second  year,  and  the  bridegroom  in  his  twentieth—*  iimt^ 
somewhat  ominous,  in  r^rd  to  their  future  matrimonial  felicity. 

The  duchess  of  Aqnitaiue  and  the  duke  of  Normandy  were  maimd 
at  Bourdeaux,*  on  May-<lay,  wiih  all  the  pomp  lltat  the  losutiam  Ml 


'Bouquei  Uei  Uwuir«a,       'ScripL  Rer,  Franc.        'See  Oerraje. 


BLBAHOKA    OF 


^^^Bwion,  aided  by  Provent^al  wealih, 
^^^Enora  cotiltl  have  been  laaTried  a  few  m 
^^^ft  li«(tPr  for  the  rcpulalioii  of  the  bride, 
^^fcu»e  in  fixing  the  binh  of  her  eldest  e 
Aogust,  1 152,  little  more  than  four  rnoiiihs 
of  May.     The  birth  of  this  boj- 


ITA.IME.  175 

could  elTect.  If  Henry  and 
jiiihs  earlier,  it  would  hare 
since  all  chroniclers  are  very 
>n,  William,'  on  the  l7Lh  of 
alier  their  union,  on  the  tirsl 
for  the  haate  with  whiel 


Had  kine  Louis  detained  his  unfaithful  v 
1,  respecting  the  succession  to  itie  c 


Elmn»ra  waa  divorced. 
iiv[iiitr  might  h* 

Thu  child  was  bom  in  Normandy,  whither  Henry  conveyed  Elcanora 

iliiK'tly  lifter  tlicir  marriage,  leaving  tlic  garrisona  of  Aquilaine  cum* 

''.  Norman  oflicers  Ihithrul  In  Jiis  interest;  a  step  which  wa^ 

'  i]<-i'inenl  of  bis  unpopularity,  in  his  wife's  domioiona. 

II.  waa  much  displeased  at  the  marriage  of  his  divorced  queea 

r       I)  iif  Anjou.     He  viewed  with  uneasineas,  the  union  of  ths 

-  -  ['["vuife*  of  the  souUi  with  Anjou  and  Normandy  ;  and.  in  order 

'  inraliduu:  it.  he  actually  forbade  Henry  to  marry  without  his  permia- 

lA,  riaiining  that  aniliarity  as  his  feudal  lord.   His  measures,  we  think, 

"III  to  :^>-<fiut  king  Louis  of  the  charge  of  too  much  righteousness  itt 

'!  ilf^nifs.  for  which  he  is  blamed  by  the  superficial  Voltainv 

ij'.  hoeiiliiy  of  Louis,  who  entered  into  a  league  with  king 

:.'<ut<^d  yuuii);  Henry  from  the  pleasures  in  which  fae  wasepend- 

uig  lup  iirsi  year  of  hia  nuptials ;  and,  breaking  from  his  wedded  Circe, 

Wi4i(ain«d,  from  her  fonduess.a  fleet,  for  the  enrorceraenl  of  his  cinttnf 

Wki*  lightful  inheritance,     Eleanora  was  sovereign  of  a  wealthy  mari- 

<■■  tounuy,  whose  ships  were  equally  used  for  war  and  commerce. 

Ltaing  hia  wife  and  son  in  Normandy,  Henry  embarked  from  Ilarfleur 

ti^  thirty-six  ships.  May,  1153.     Without  the  aid  of  this  Provencal 

iMIf  England  would  never  have  reckoned  the  nama  of  Plantagenet 

tnoog  bcr  royal  dynasties. 

ThflM  circumstances  are  alluded  to,  with  some  dry  humour,  in  t 
Mlowitig  lines,  by  Kobert  of  Gloucester : 

"■  In  elrven  hundred  jmm  of  grace  ard  forty.one, 
Died  Geoffroy  of  PlaDtagen?!,  ih*  eirl  of  Anjou. 
Hnniy  hia  son  anil  heir,  enrl  was  mails  Ihorongh 
All  Anjoa,  and  duke  of  Normand — fliuch  il  was  bis  mind 
To  came  ami  win  Eagland,  Toi  lie  was  neil  of  Iklnd  (Itin), 
And  ID  Iiejp  bis  model,  wlm  was  oft  ia  feoblo  chanoe, 
Bm  be  WHS  much  aoquaini  with  tho  queen  of  Fiance, 
&mt  Aat  loo  muck,  at  mi  uttmtd;  to  thai  in  some  thing 
The  quren  loved  him,  as  me  irowod,  more  thui  her  lord  the  Idni; 
So  thai  il  WB«  Ihrtli  put  iliat  llie  king  and  *be 
te  «ibbe  Here,  ihai  ihsf  niual  no  loDgei  togetbei  be. 
The  kindred  wan  proved  »  uenr,  tlia[  king  Louii  ihoro 
AmI  Eloioai  liin  ijiiuen  hy  ihe  popa  daputied  weie. 

N**i  Ckronologicnl  Hittory  givri  thit  dale,  ii  ia  aupporied  by  Sandford   ' 
wH  tnm  ohnmkln,  and  the  nuetiinn  of  Robert  of  Glouceite    ' 
I  wtwd*  ■ — Henry  wa«  acquaint  with  the  queen  of  France  n 


I 
I 


I 


I 


k 


Vm  ELEAKOItA    OF     AQUITAIDB. 

Soma  WBio  Klml  tnow,  us  tni^Uf  Iw  iruly  lecn, 

For  H«nrf  ibe  Finprcts'  ton  fiinhuiili  rs]wrt«(t  the  queen. 

The  quern  rielie*  i-now  had  unilcr  her  bnnil, 

Which  lielped  Hanry  ilivn  lo  war  on  Enelaiil- 

In  lh#  pIvTench  hundreil  year  anil  (iftf-(wo 

After  God  on  mulh  came,  lliii  apousing  wai  ado  ; 

The  next  year  after  ihal,  Heurr  liis  power  nom  (look), 

And  with  >ii4nd-thiny  abipi  to  England  com." 

There  ia  reason  m  believe  ihal,  al  this  period,  Henry  wthicfd  iht 
heart,  and  won  the  aflbclions,  of  Ihe  bcauliful  Rosamond  CiitTon).  undn 
the  promise  of  marriage,  as  the  birth  of  her  eldest  son  corresponds  wiib 
Henry's  visit  to  Eii|;land  at  this  time;  for  he  left  England  tlie  yar  bt- 
forc  Stephen's  deatti,  11  S3.'  Henry  waa  busy,  laying  siege  to  dieCMllt 
of  one  of  his  rebels  in  Normandy,  when  the  news  of  ^phen^s  dctih 
reached  him.  Six  weeks  elapsed  before  he  sailed  to  lake  posaeseioa  of 
hi*  kingdom.  His  queen  and  infant  son  accompanied  him.  They  miw) 
a  month  at  Bartleur,  for  a  favourable  wind,'  and  al\er  all  th«y  had  a  dn- 
gerous  passage,  but  landed  safely  at  Osterhara,  Dec.  8.  The  king  ud 
queen  waited  at  the  port  for  some  days,  while  the  fleet,  dispersefl  bjr  the 
wind,  collected.  They  then  went  to  Winchester,'  where  they  rewinj 
the  homage  of  the  souihem  borons. 

Theobald  archbishop  of  Canierbury,  and  some  of  the  chief  iiebte 
came  to  hasten  their  appearance  in  London,  "^  where  Henry  wai,''a7 
the  Saxon  chroniclers,  "received  with  great  honour  and  worafaip,ai 
blessed  to  king  the  Sunday  before  illidwinter^ay." 

Eleanor  and  Henry  were  crowned  in  Westminster  Abbey,  Deenbv 
10,  1154,  '•after  England,"  to  use  the  words  of  Henry  nf  Hnntingddi^ 
"  lud  been  without  a  king  for  sin  weeks."  Henry's  security,  duringMi 
interval,  was  owing  to  the  powerful  Hcei  of  his  qneen,  which  comimW 
the  seas  between  Normandy  and  England,  and  kept  all  rebels  in  awe. 

The  coronation  of  the  king  of  England,  and  the  luxuriotu  lady  ft 
the  south,  was  withoat  parallel  for  mBgnificence.  Hen  were  teat  in 
profusion  mantles  of  silk  and  brocade,  of  a  new  fashion  and  splegKUd 
texture,  brought  by  queen  Eleanora*  from  Constantinople.  In  the  illir- 
minaied  portraits  of  this  queen,  she  wears  a  wimple,  or  close  coif,  wiib 
a  circlet  of  gems  put  over  it ;  her  kirtle,  or  close  gown,  has  tight  sImtbs 
and  fastens  with  full  gathers,  just  below  the  throat,  confined  with  •  neb 
collar  of  gems.  Over  this  is  worn  the  elegant  peliason,  or  outer  rets. 
bordered  with  fur^  with  very  full  loose  sleeves,  lined  wiih  emuM. 
showing  gracefully  the  tight  kirile  sleeves  beneath.  The  elegant  Hat 
of  Eleanora,  or,  perhaps,  her  visit  to  tlie  Greek  capiiaJ,  revived  ibe  h(n> 
tiful  costume  of  the  wife  of  the  Conqueror.  In  some  portfuiSi  th* 
queen  is  seen  with  her  hair  braided,  and  cloeely  wound  round  the  bid 
with  jewelled  bands.     Over  all  was  thrown  a  square  nf  tins  laws  or 

eedinga  in  England  bare  be#n  ilelnileit  in  the  prccedluf  liingnphf 
o.  'Sir  Hanii  Nifola**  Chianolaj^  of  Huwy. 

1  ihe  introduced  the  growth  of  lilk  in  her  Knllhl^m  (kaniBiaoa,  ■  tr 
neAi  aiiribuleil  lo  Ueniy  ihe  Great ;  but  in  the  murdoioui  civil  Wan  «t  tmtt 
a/t  mijfbl  have  been  loiL 


BLBANORA    OF    AQUITAINB.  1T7 

gauze,  which  supplied  die  place  of  a  veiU  and  was  worn  precisely  h'ke 
die  faziola^  still  the  national  costume  of  the  lower  orders  of  Venice 
Sometimes  this  coverchief,  or  kerchief  was  drawn  over  the  features, 
down  below  the  chin ;  it  thus  supplied  the  place  of  veil  and  bonnet, 
when  abroad ;  sometimes  it  descended  but  to  the  brow ;  just  as  the 
wearer  was  disposed  to  show  or  conceal  her  face.  Frequently  the  co- 
verchief  was  confined,  by  the  bandeau,  or  circlet,  being  placed  on  tlie 
head,  over  it  Girls  before  marriage  wore  their  hair  in  ringlets  or  tresses 
on  their  shoulders.  The  church  was  very  earnest  in  preaching  against 
the  public  display  of  ladies'  hair  after  marriage. 

The  long  liAir  of  the  men  likewise  drew  down  the  constant  fulmina- 
tions  of  the  church ;  but  after  Henry  I.  had  cut  off  his  curls,  and  for- 
bidden long  hair  at  courts  his  courtiers  adopted  periwigs ;  indeed,  if  we 
may  judge  by  the  queer  effigy  on  his  coins,  the  handsome  Stephen  him- 
self wore  a  wtf.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  thunder  of  the  pulpit  was  in- 
stantly levellecf  at  wigs,  which  were  forbidden  by  a  sumptuary  law  o^ 
king  Henry. 

Henry  H.  made  his  appearance,  at  his  coronation,  with  short  hair, 
mnstachios,  and  shaven  chin;  he  wore  a  doublet,  and  short  Angevin 
doak,  which  immediately  gained  for  him  from  his  subjects,  Norman  and 
English,  the  sobriquet  of  Court-mantle.  His  dalmatiea  was  of  the  richest 
brocade,  bordered  with  gold  embroidery.  At  this  coronation,  ecclesias- 
tiet  were  first  seen  in  England  dressed  in  sumptuous  robes  of  silk  and 
velvet,  worked  with  gold.  This  was  in  imitation  of  the  luxury  of  the 
Qreek  church :  the  splendour  of  the  dresses  seen  by  the  queen  at  Ck>n- 
■tantinople,  occasioned  the  introduction  of  this  corruption  in  the  western 
church. 

Such  was  the  costume  of  the  court  of  Eleanora  of  Aquitaine,  queen 
of  England,  in  the  year  of  her  coronation,  1 154. 

The  Christmas  festivities  were  celebrated  that  year  with  great  pomp, 
at  Westminster  Palace ;  but  directly  the  coronation  was  over,  the  king 
conducted  his  queen  to  the  palace  of  Bermondsey,  where,  after  remain- 
ing some  weeks  in  retirement,  she  gave  birth  to  her  second  son,  the  last 
day  of  February,  1 155. 

Bermondsey,  the  first  place  of  Eleanora's  residence  in  England,  was, 
as  delineated  in  its  ancient  plans,  a  pastoral  villa^^e,  nearly  opposite  to 
London,  of  a  character  decidedly  Flemish.  Rich  m  well-cultivated  gar- 
dens, and  wealthy  velvet  meads,  it  possessed,  likewise,  an  ancient  Saxon 
palace,  and  a  priory  then  newly  built 

Assuredly  the  metropolis  must  have  presented  itself  to  the  view  of  its 
foreign  queen,  from  the  palace  of  Bermondsey,  with  much  more  pic- 
turesque grandeur  than  it  does  at  present,  when  its  unwieldy  size  and 
smoky  atmosphere  prevent  an  entire  coup  (PtBiL  But  at  one  glance  from 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  the  eyes  of  the  fair  Proven^  could  then 
behold  London,  her  royal  city,  situated  on  rising  ground  from  the 
Thames.  It  was  at  that  time  girdled  with  an  embattled  wall,  which  was 
9tadded  with  gateways,  both  by  water*  and  laud.  The  new  Tower  of 
London  kept  guard  on  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  city,  and  the  lofty 

*  J>owgBte  and  Billingsgate. 

U 


^ 


e  of  the  ancienl  calhedral  jirecided  over  llie  weitem  siile,  just  behini 
iiie  antique  gaieway  of  Ludgaie.  Tliis  ^t«  led  lo  llie  pleasant  ruad  of 
llie  river's  Strand,  omampnled  with  ihr  Old  Tcniple,  ita  lair  ganlciu  uid 
wharf,  and  interaperued  with  ■  few  inns,^  or  melropolitsn  dwellings  of 
the  nobility,  the  cultivated  g;rtiuiids  of  which  sloped  down  to  their  waiet- 
riairs  and  boat-houses,  tjte  Thnuies  bejni;  (hen  the  highway  of  Lomlua 

The  Strand  road  terminated  in  the  majestic  palace  and  abbey  of  Wmi- 
miitater;  the  Old  Palace,  widi  its  yard  and  gardens,  once  beloof^inj  in 
Sl  Edward  ;  and  the  New  Palace,  lU  noble  hall  and  water-etairs,  which 
owed  their  origin  to  the  Norman  dynaaiy. 

Sucfa  waa  ibe  metropolis  when  Henry  II.  succeeded  to  the  EDglisb 

If  the  example  and  conduct  of  the  first  Proven^  queen  wa«  aeitlia 
edifying  nor  pleasing  to  her  aubjecta,  yet,  in  a  commercial  point  of  tir«, 
the  connexion  of  the  merchants  of  England  nitli  her  AqtiiUinian  duBU- 
uiooa  was  highly  advantageous.  The  wine  trade  with  fiourdtnux  tieeaoK 
considerable.*  In  a  few  months  after  the  accession  of  EJeanora,  aa  quMk 
consort  of  England,  large  fortunes  were  mode  by  the  London  Uadtm. 
who  imported  the  wines  of  Gascony  from  the  port  of  Bourdevui;'  and 
above  all  i  by  the  example  of  the  maritime  cities  of  Guienne)  the  shipping 
of  England  was  governed  by  the  ancient  code  of  laws,  called  tlie  code  d 
Oleron. 

In  compliment  to  hie  consort  Eleanors,  Henry  11.  adopted  for  bit 
plate-mark  the  cross  of  Aquiiaine,  with  the  addition  of  his  initial  Icitn 
j^.  An  instance  of  this  curious  bet  is  siill  to  be  seen,  in  the  graoe-rap 
of  Tliomos  a,  BeckeL* 

The  English  (:ho6c  to  regard  Henry  11.  solely  as  the  descendant  of 
their  ancient  Saxon  line.  "Thou  art  son,"' said  they,  i' to  th«  loail 
glorious  empress  Matilda,  whose  mother  was  Matilda  Atheting,  daughiet 
to  Margaret,  saint  and  tjueen,  whose  father  was  Edward,  son  to  kinj 
Edmund  Ironside,  who  was  great-grandson  to  king  Alfred." 

Such  were  the  expressions  of  llie  English,  when  Henry  convrncd  ■ 
great  meeting  of  the  nobility  and  chief  people,  at  Wallingrord,  in  Blaitb 
1155j  where,  by  the  advice  of  his  mother,  ilie  empies*  Uatilda,(wbo 

'Inn  was  ddI,  in  tar[y  timca,  a  word  nted  Ibr  a  hotue  oTpoblic 
lu  original  tigoifiiMltm  was  a  temporaiy  aboite  in  London,  i 
bishop,  or  peer.  '  Anil*T»On'»  Vitiory  of  Cim 

'••The  land,"  sbtb  ana  of  the  malctnurni  Snion  chroniolen,  ■■  hFcuniB  fall  rf 
iliink  and  ilmnlisidi."  Clarel  wu  id.  per  gailon  U  Uus  time.  Giuctai  via*  it 
gcTiFrsI  EOld  al  S0(.  per  nin. 

'Thti  cup  formeTly  belonged  (o  the  Aru^d(^l  Coltmtion,  and  wiu  fStm  bf 
Bernard  Edward,  Ifas  laic  duke  of  Norfolk,  to  H.  Howaid,  B«q.,  of  Cnrti)' faak, 
who  ihut  b«ranie  the  possessor  of  this  hJEl'lf-prized  relic  of  BInuioira  i  «*.  TW 
(■TOSH  of  Aquiiaine  eomewhai  rmmblea  iho  MbIIpib  cioss  ;  thn  cop  in  b(  mf 
mmnird  with  silver,  which  ii  itudded  on  the  loinDiil  and  baie  Willi  fnaih^i^ 
pteeioui  atooet.  The  inecriplion  round  llie  cup  i*,  Fmum  laum  tit*  ami  pa^ 
— ■■  Drink  Iby  wine  with  jof :"  bui  round  the  [id,  deeply  engravMl,  i«  tha  n  iljifc 
inj[  iojunctioa,  Sobrii  fita't,  with  the  initials  T.  B.  iDieilaced  iriih  a  Blln^te 
peculiail;  low  (bnn  of  which  tiampi  the  antiqailj'  of  the  whole. 

^Ailml  IJhronHjIe.  -j  ■ 


^^m  BI.GAXORA    np    AQI'ITAIVE.  I7tf    I 

h*d  learnt^  wixdoin  Trom  adversity,)  he  swore  lo  rontirin  tn  tlte  English 
the  laws  of  Alfred  aiid  Edward  the  ConfeBsor,  ns  set  forlh  in  ihe  great 
rhmrtfr  of  Henry  I.  At  this  uirsnd  convocation  queen  Eleanors  appeoRM), 
with  her  elili^I  son,  then  in  his  fourth  year,  and  the  infant  Henry.  The 
laroiutgi!  of  England  kissed  the  handa  of  the  infants,  and  vowed  to  lecog- 
n»e  ihinn  la  tlie  heirs  of  the  English  monarchy.  A  few  weeks  after  ihia 
rpco^Hion,  the  queen  lost  her  eldest  son,  who  was  buried  at  Reading, 
at  the  fir«t  of  his  great-grand  lather,  Henry  I. 

The  principal  residences  of  the  court  were  Winchester  Palace,  West- 
minster Palace,  and  the  country  palace  of  Woodstock.  The  amusements 
ni  :i«  favoured  by  queen  Eleanom  were  of  a  dramatic  kind.  Besides  the 
Mv4l«riea  and  Miracles  played  hy  the  parish  clerks  and  siudenis  of 
imity,  ^e  classic  taste  of  the  accomplished  Eleanora  patronized  repre- 
irjttions  nearly  allied  to  the  regular  drama;  since  we  find  thai  Peter 
■■'■  Hlnis.'  in  his  epistles,  congratulates  his  brother  William  on  his  tragedy 
"t  FUura  and  Marcus,  played  before  the  queen.  This  William  was  an 
aSbot,  but  WW  master  of  the  revels  or  amusements  at  court;  he  com- 
f>oKnt  all  the  Mysteries  and  Miracles  performed  before  the  queen,  at 
Westminster  and  Wiitch ester. 

h  is  to  Peter  of  Blois  we  owe  a  graphic  description  of  king  Henry'* 
tiF[<i>Q  and  manneis;  likewise  the  picture  of  his  court  setting  out  ta 

"  When  king  Henry  sets  out  of  a  morning,  you  see  multitudes  of 
p«iple  running  up  and  down  as  if  they  were  distracted,  hotsee  rushing 
Viinst  hoTves,  cajriages  overturning  carriages,  players,  gamesters,  cooks, 
(unfmrtioners,  morricc-dancera,  barbers,  courtesans,  and  parasites,  making' 
M  much  noise,  and,  in  a  word,  such  an  iniolersble  tumultuous  jumble 
of  horse  and  foot,  that  you  imagine  the  great  abyss  hath  opened,  and 
that  hell  hath  poured  forth  all  its  inhabitants." 

Wo  think  this  disorderly  crew  must  have  belonged  lo  the  queen's  court, 
fnr  the  sketch  given  os  by  tliesame  most  amn sing  author,  of  king  Henry 
himself,  would  lead  us  lo  suppose  that  he  coonienanced  no  such  riotous 
Hoioga.  The  chaplain  Peter'  thus  minutely  describes  king  Henry,  Ae 
hiuhand  of  Eleanora  of  Aquilaine,  in  his  Idler  to  the  archbishop  of 
Panonuilan. 

"In  praising  David  the  king,  it  is  read  thai  he  was  ruddy,  but 
nmst  onderaiand  that  my  lord  the  king  is  sub-rufus,  or  pale-red ;  his- 
haroMB  {annonr)  hath  somewhat  changed  his  colour.  Of  middle  staturs 
he  is,  «o  tluit  among  little  men  seemelh  he  not  much,  nor  among  long 
men  Memeth  he  over  little.  His  head  is  round,  as  in  token  of  great 
«■!,  and  of  special  high  caunsel  the  treasury." 

'Oi  Paanu  Blrsantii,  wlio  wu  bom  1190,  at  ths  citf  of  Blois.  or  a  noble  Gunily. 
lUi  paiBon  waa  iIm  iftj  llrsl  who  ever  used  ihv  word  IratititMai^lialion.  Ha  | 
«a*  pr«c«ptnr  M  Williuu  11,  of  Sicily,  11S7;  was  invited  Id  Englaail  by  Henijr  !(, 
aad  main  his  utiaiilaiu,  uid  archdeacon  oT  Bath,  likewise  privnle  wrrelaiy  m  tht 
Ua^  Hr  (poni  nomc  years  at  ihe  court  oT  Bngland.  and  dieil  about  ibo  end  of 
mm  IwfllUt  onliity.  He  wrote  nbaut  one  bimdcei)  and  lliiii/  lettari,  in  Iho 
■osi  Hnljr  and  iulividualUiag  nyle.  Theu  he  niUecied  and  twipeuiatml,  bjr 
umlaat  maor  eopie*,  al  ihe  Mprem  ciMita  of  his  rayal  manar,  Henry  U. 
^•dilod  by  Heaioe. 


I 


k 


R 


I 


ISO  BLEAKOSA    or    AtjriTAINB.  ^H 

Our  reader*  would  ickrcely  expeci  plireTiol<^icsl  obserratioos  in  in 
cpielle  of  ihe  tweliUi  cenlury,  but  wre  faiilifuUy  write  whit  we  find 
Dierein. 

"  Ilia  head  is  Df  auch  quanlitj-,  that  to  lh6  neck,  aod  la  all  tUe  boiy, 
ii  accordeth  by  even  proportion,  ilis  een  pykel«d  (fine),  and  clwti 
to  colour,  while  he  is  of  plcnaoU  will,  but  ihroogh  dislurb«nce  of  btin, 
like  iparkling  lire  or  lightning  wiih  hasLinegs.  His  bead  of  cmiy  ban, 
ulien  clipped  square  in  the  forelieBtli  dlieweib  a  lyonoua  *inge,  ike  aw- 
liila  even  and  couely,  according  u>  all  ilie  other  features.  Hi^  nnliad 
feet,  lege  able  to  riding,  broad  bust,  and  long  champion  ann*,  wlikh 
lelleth  him  to  be  strong,  light,  and  hardy.  In  a  loe  of  his  loot  the  OiH 
gruwoth  into  the  flesh,  aud  in  harm  to  the  fool  over  waseth.  Ilis  htodi 
tliruugh  their  greatness  shewelh  negligence,  for  he  utterly  loavcih  ihc 
keeping  of  them ;  never,  but  when  he  beareih  hawks,  wesreth  he  glotc*. 
E^u  day  at  mass  and  council,  and  other  open  needs  of  tlie  realm. 
throughout  the  whole  morning  he  standeth  a  foot,  end  yet  wbei)  he  m- 
elh  he  never  Bitlelfa  down.  In  one  day  he  will,  if  neeJ  be,  riile  two  at 
three  journeys,  and  thus  bath  ho  oft  circnmvenled  the  plots  of  bia  a» 
mies.  A  huge  lover  of  woods  is  he,  bo  tliat  when  he  ceaaelh  of  war  be 
haimletti  phices  of  hawking  and  hunting.  He  useih  boots  without  foM- 
iiig  cap«,  and  homely  and  short  clothes  wearelh  he.  Ilia  tieab  wuuld 
have  charged  him  with  fatness,  but  with  ttsvel  and  fasting  he  odaanlcth, 
I  keeps  ii  down,)  and  in  riding  and  going  tnivailetb  he  mightily  tiis  Touih. 
Not  as  otiier  kings  Uelh  he  in  his  palace,  but  travelling  about  bjr  Im 
provinces  espielh  he  the  doings  of  all  men.  He  doomctb  iboee  ibulM 
judges  when  they  do  wroitg,  and  punisheth  them  by  stronger  judnuot 
than  other  men.  No  man  mote  wise  in  counsel,  ne  more  droacuul  in 
prosperity,  ne  stediaster  in  adversity.  Wlien  once  he  lovelh,  scarcdy 
will  he  ever  hate;  when  once  he  hatelh,  scarcely  ever  receiveth  he  iuo 
^race.  Oft  holdedi  he  in  hand  swords,  bows,  and  hunting  gear,  exer^ 
ing  he  be  at  council  or  at  book.  When  he  may  rest  from  worldly  biui- 
neas,  privily  he  occupielh  himself  about  learning  and  reading,  and  anraif 
his  clerks  askeih  he  questions.  For  though  your  king'  be  well  y-lM> 
tered,  (learned,)  our  king  by  far  is  more  y-letlered,  I,  forsooth,  in 
science  of  letters,  know  the  cunning  of  them  both,  ye  wotting  well  thai 
tny  lord  the  king  of  Sicily  a  whole  year  was  my  disciple,  and  ttam^ 
by  you  he  bad  the  beginning  of  teaching,  yet  by  me  he  had  ilie  ben^ 
of  more  fiill  science.'  And  as  soon  as  I  went  out  of  Sicily,  your  Lisg 
cast  away  his  books,  and  gave  himself  sp  to  palatine*  idleuess.  Bot, 
forsooth,  our  lord  the  king  of  England  has  each  day  a  school  for  H^ 
well  lettered  men ;  hence  his  conversation,  thai  he  halh  with  them,  ii 
busy  discussing  of  question.  None  is  more  honest  than  our  king  ia 
speaking;  ne  in  alms  largest.  Therefore,  as  holy  writ  seiili,  w«  mT 
say  of  him,  ■  his  name  is  a  precious  ointment,  and  the  alms  of  him  u 
the  church  shall  take.' " 

'Tbe  king  of  bicilf,  William  Ihe  Good,  arteTWaoii  Henty  Ihs  8«ooii^'i  tm 


BLHAKORA    OP     AQCtTAINE.  ISI 

'Sneb  ia  the  pielure  nf  the  Tirat  < 
drawn  to  minute  pencilling,  hy  the  i: 
chdilbuod. 

li  ia  not  a  very  easy  task  to  reduce  to  anything  like  perspieuily  the 
nrioua  traditions  which  float  through  the  chronicles,  regarding  (|ueen 
Elminra's  unfortunate  rival,  the  celebrated  Roaamond  Clifi<ir<I.  No  one 
who  sludiea  history  ought  to  despi«e  tradition,  for  we  shall  find  that  tru- 
ditiun  is  generally  founded  on  fact,  even  when  defective,  or  regsnllcs!) 
of  chmnology.  The  learned  and  accurate  Oirte  has  not  thought  it 
broenth  hira,  to  examine  oireftilty  the  testimony  that  pjtisia  regarding 
Koaunoiid ;  and  we  hud,  from  him.  that  we  must  canlin< 
wuk  Heiwy  to  the  two  yoara  succeeding  his  marriage. 
ihat  tfas  birth  of  her  youngest  son,  and  her  profession  as  a  nun  at  (joci- 
now,  look  place  wilhin  that  apace  of  time,  and  he  haa  proved  it  from 
At  irrelrBpible  witneas  of  existing  charters,  of  endowments  of  Innda 
^irea  by  the  Clifford  liimiiy  to  benehl  the  convent  of  Oodstow,  of  pro- 
liion  maile  by  Henry  11.  for  her  son  Willium  Long  Espee  and  hia  bro- 
thrr,  and  of  benefactions  he  bestowed  on  the  nunnery  of  Oodatow, 
btRuue  Rotoinond  had  beeome  a  votaress  therein.  It  appears  that  the 
■0]Baiatsnee  between  Rosamond  and  Henry  commenced  in  early  youth, 
•boDt  the  time  of  his  knighthood  by  hia  uncle  the  king  of  Scotland; 
ihil  a  waa  rpnewed  at  iho  lime  of  hia  succt^ssrul  invasion  of  England, 
"hm  he  entered  privately  into  marriage  contract'  with  the  unsuspecting 
tul;  and  before  he  left  England,  to  return  to  his  wife,  his  noble  boy 
tfiUiain,  aamamed  I/ing  Espee,  was  bom.  Ills  own  wonts  afterwards 
MolinDDd  ihia  report :  >■  Thou  art  my  legitimate  sou,"  said  he  to  one  of 
ibe  MM  of  Koiamond,  who  met  him  at  the  head  of  an  armed  force,  at 
■  line  when  the  rebellion  of  the  princes  had  distressed  him;  "and," 
roulmoed  he,  *  the  rest  are  bastards." '  Perhaps  these  words  aflbrd  the 
iraait  esplanntion  of  the  niyslcnous  dissensions  which  perpeluully  dis- 
loctoil  the  roiTil  family. 

Itow  king  Hcjiry  excused  his  peijury,  both  to  Rosamond  and  the 
qaren.  is  not  explained  by  chronicle ;  he  seems  to  have  endeavoured,  by 
(•tile  expeilienis,  to  keep  them  both  in  ignorance  of  his  perfidy. 

Aa  KMamond  was  retained  by  him  as  a  prisoner,  though  not  an 
nawilUng  one,  it  was  cosy  to  conceal  from  her  the  facts,  tliat  he  had 
wmUhI  a  quetn.  and  brought  her  to  England ;  but  his  chief  difSruliy 
waa  to  conceal  Rosamond's  existence  from  Elcanora,  and  yet  to  indulge 
htmaelf  with  frequcnl  visits  to  the  real  ob|ect  of  his  love. 

iktMBpton  eaya.  "  That  one  day  queen  Eleanora  saw  the  king  walking 
in  iha  pleoaance  of  Woodstock,  with  the  end  of  a  ball  of  floss  silk 
altarfwd  to  his  spur;  coming  near  hira  un perceived,  she  took  up  tlte 
ball,  anil  the  king  walking  un,  the  sdk  unwound,  and  thus  the  queen 
Incnl  him  to  a  thicket  in  the  labyrinth  or  maze  of  the  park,  where  he 
diappewd.  She  kept  the  mutter  secret,  often  revolving  in  her  own 
umA  'm  wbM  company  ho  could  meet  with  balls  of  silk.  Soon  aAer, 
ihm  king  Wt  Woaxlstock  for  a  distant  journey ;  then  queen  Elesnon, 

*Gane.     fcuBipHo.    BosweH'i  Aaitqutiiei.  'Lingaid. 


I 


I 


IS3  ltI.e«.M)RA    OF    AQUlTAtNB.  ^^H 

bavinc  thia  iliicovery  in  mind,  eearctiMl  Lh«>  thicket  in  tba  jwk,  and  db- 
covcml  a  \ove  d(K>r  cunningly  rnncoBleil ;  this  door  eho  Iim  forcnl.  uitl 
fnunil  il  ivax  the  ^ [iimncf  lo  a  wiiulinfi;  Kubl«riunean  path,  which  led  out 
Bt  R  distance  lo  a  svlvan  lodge  in  ihe  most  retired  part  nf  ttit?  kdjncerii 
furMl."  Hero  ilie  qtiecn  found,  in  ft  Imwer,  a  yrning  lady  of  incom- 
parable b<-iiuiy,  busily  eufaged  in  embroidery. 

t{iieL'[i  Eleanora  then  raaily  giirswd  how  balls  of  silk  atuclied  ihftni- 
tdvea  to  tint;  Henry's  spurs,  WhaieTer  waa  ths  result  of  ihc  inierview 
between  Elcanora  and  Kosamond,  it  is  certain  that  ihe  qneen  did  nni 
deviroy  her  rival  cither  by  sword  or  poison,  tiKiugb  io  ht-r  ngc  ii  is 
poMihlc  that  she  mi)ilit  tiireBien  both.  Thai  Rosamond  was  not  ktiy. 
may  be  ascertained  by  ilie  ch&ricrB  before  named,  which  plainly  tbon 
that  she  lived  tweiiiy  years,  in  j^rcai  peniirnce-,  after  her  rvtiremeal  froii 
the  kin^.  It  is  extremely  probable  that  her  inierview  wiih  Doanura  \ti 
to  her  first  knowledge  that  Henry  was  a  married  man,  and  eonsHiDenilT 
lo  heT  profe«aion  at  GmIsiow,  which  took  place  the  second  year  nf 
Henry's  reign.  The  ^tid  error  in  the  slaimienls  reKardine;  Ro«ani(niil 
is  the  assertion,  tliat  alie  was  a  youni;  girl  seduced  and  cnnccaleil  br  A' 
king,  when  lie  was  in  advanced  life.  Now  the  charters  collaieil  hf 
Carle,  prove  thai  the  acquainloncc  of  Itneamond  and  Henry  comnicnMtl 
in  early  youlh;  that  ihey  were  nearly  of  the  same  age,  and  tint  deir 
connexion  tentiiiiated  soon  after  queen  Eleanora  came  lo  Eiii^land. 

Twenty  years  afterwards,  when  Kosamond's  death  realty  oecuned  a 
her  convent,  it  happened  to  coincide  with  Eleanore^s  impriaonmeal  twl  | 
diegraee.  This  coincidence  rcvivij  tlie  memory  of  the  romantic  inci- 
dents connected  wilh  Henry's  love  for  Itosainond  Cliflord.  The  bigti 
nnk  of  tbe  real  object  of  the  queen's  jealousy,  al  llial  time,  anil  the 
circumBlances  of  horror  regarding  Henry's  profligacy,  as  tlie  bbJok* 
of  his  son's  wife,  occasioned  a  mystery  at  court  which  no  one  ibmd  ti 
define.  The  common  people,  in  their  endeavours  lo  ^eas  this  m\t  i 
secret,  combined  the  death  of  the  poor  peiiileni  al  Godsiow  with  El«- 
Dora's  imprisonment,  uid  thus  the  rejiorl  was  raised  that  Elcauoia  h«l 
killed  Itoeumond.  To  these  causes  we  Imce  the  disamuiEement  of  the 
chronology  in  the  story  of  Rosamond,  which  lias  cast  clonbls  on  lb> 
truth  of  her  adventure*,     In  Brompton's  narrative  we  find  the  h^iinb' 

'  A>  to  th(  labyhalh  or  maze  at  Wooditock.  il  man  likely  eiitl^  brhn  ihi 
timD  of  Rosunonil,  sad  remained  adei  hei  death,  sinco  all  [i1cili-iiii[-<'.«  .»  ni-      I 
dens  in  tho  middle  age  wcie  conlriT«d  with  this  adjunct.     Trn.  -j^ 
to  thu  dny,  in  ihe  nsmes  of  places  near  defkuicl  royal  palmws  , 
bill  at  Gtemwicb,  (near  the  site  of  the  miue  or  [sbyiinth  of  Gii-   : 
and  the  Haia  in  Southwark,  cooe  part  of  tlie  itsideD  of  ihe  {m  i 
dor'*  palace.     We  have  eTideoce  that  Edward  111.  (bffiwnTu  >' 
drath  of  Rosamond  linlo  more  Uum  a  century  iniciireni-d)  fun. 
striidiire  pertujiiiog  In  WoodaUick  Palace,  KowmDnd's  Chambif. 
which  he  minutely  dewribes  in  a  letter  prpwrved  in  the  Fcedi;:.i 
In  Uiil  docomanl  be  diiccis  Willlain  de  Moniacute  lo  order  Vm..  i.,   :.,  .. 
lUt  manor  of  Wnndiiook,  and  Ibal  (he  hoiiH!  btyand  llu  gatt  >n  Iht  nrv  mil  )v 
Imlli  again,  and  thm  *ame  chaiobet,  called  Rotainond  «  Cbamliai,  to  bv  rowaed      | 
a*  before,  suU  oryilal  plate*,  and  marble,  and  Irad  lu  be  provided  tbi  ii.     Bale 
ti  indi^utable  proof  ibai  there  wms  a  stnuiura  called  BMamood's 


E  L  E  A  N  O  II  A     O  I       A  Q  r  I  T  A  I  N  E .  1  S3 

a(  U'oodstock,  &nd  the  clue  of  silk,  famous  in  the  romance  and  ballad. 
His  chronology  of  the  incidents  is  decidedly  wrong,  but  the  actual 
erents  are  confirmed  by  the  most  ancient  authorities. 

Queen  Eleanora  brought  her  husband  a  princess  in  the  year  1156; 
this  was  the  eldest  daughter,  tlie  princess  Matilda. 

The  next  year  the  queen  spent  in  England.  Her  celebrated  son, 
Richard  Coeur  de  lion,  was  bom  September  1 157,  at  a  palace  considered 
one  of  the  finest  in  the  kingdom,  called  the  Beau  Monte,  in  Oxford. 
Thus,  that  renowned  University  claims  the  honour  of  being  the  birth- 
place of  this  great  warrior.  This  palace  was  afterwards  turned  into  tlie 
White  Friar's  church,  and  then  to  a  workhouse.  The  chamber  in  which 
Richard  was  bom  still  remains,  a  roofless  min,  with  some  vestiges  of  a 
fireplace ; '  but  such  as  it  is,  this  fragment  is  deeply  interesting  to  the 
finglish,  as  the  birth-place  of  a  hero  of  whom  they  are  proud. 

Eleanora  of  Aquitaine,  in  some  passages  of  her  life,  appears  as  one  of 
the  most  prominent  characters  of  her  age :  she  was  very  actively  em- 
ployed, either  as  sovereign  of  her  own  dominions,  or  regent  of  Nor- 
mandy, during  the  period  from  1157  to  1172. 

Eleanora  was  crowned  a  second  time  at  Worcester,  with  the  king,  in 
1159.  When  the  royal  pair  came  to  the  oblation,  they  both  took  ofT 
their  crowns,  and,  laying  them  on  the  altar,  vowed  never  to  wear  them 
more. 

A  son  was  bora  to  Henry  and  Eleanora,  September  23d,  after  the 
Worcester  coronation :  this  prince  bore  the  name  of  the  king's  father, 
Geoffrey  Plantagenet 

The  same  year  the  king  betrothed  this  boy  to  €k)nstance,  the  heiress 
of  Conan,  duke  of  Bretaffiie.  The  infant  Constance  was  about  eighteen 
months  older  than  the  little  prince  Geoffrey.  Henry  had  made  most 
anjnst  seizure  of  Bretagne,  by  way  of  conquest ;  he,  however,  soothed 
the  independent  Bretons,  by  marrying  their  infiuit  duchess  to  his  son. 
His  ambitious  thirst  for  extension  of  empire  was  not  sated  by  the  acqui- 
sition of  this  dukedom ;  he  immediately  laid  siege  to  Thoulouse,  and, 
in  the  name  of  queen  Eleanora,  claimed  that  sovereignty  of  earl  Ray- 
mond, who  was  in  possession,  and  the  ally  of  the  king  of  France.  A 
year  was  occupied  with  skirmishing  and  negotiation,  during  which  time 
Eleanora  acted  as  queen-regent  in  England. 

Henry  sent  for  his  queen  to  Normandy,  in  1160;  she  went  in  gpreat 
stale,  taJung  with  her  prince  Henry  and  her  eldest  daughter,  to  meet 
their  &ther.  The  occasion  of  her  presence  being  required,  was  the  mar- 
riage of  Marguerite,  the  daughter  of  her  former  husband  Louis  VIl.  by 
his  second  wife,  with  her  young  son  Henry.  Chancellor  Becket  went, 
with  a  magnificent  retinue,  to  Paris,  and  brought  the  little  bride,  aged 
three  yean,  to  the  queen  at  Rouen.    Both  bride  and  bridegroom  were 

distinct  ftom  Wooditock  Palace,  yet  belonpng  to  its  domain,  being  a  building 
sauated  beyond  the  pork  wall.  Edward  IIL  pasted  the  first  years  of  hit  mar- 
riage principally  at  Woodstock,  therefore  he  well  knew  the  localities  of  the 
place ;  which  will  agree  with  the  old  chronicleri,  if  we  suppose  Rosamond's 
residenoe  was  approached  by  a  tunnel  under  the  park  wall. 
>fiosweU*s  Antiquities. 


IS'l  ELBANOBA    OV    AQUITAIXI. 

given,  afler  their  muringe,  to  Becket '  for  eilucatiun  ;  and  lliia  extraonli- 
nury  penon  inspired,  in  their  young  boaome,  an  atiachment  to  him,  ilitt 
enileil  but  wii!i  thtir  bves, 

Queen  Eleononi  kept  her  Chrislniaa  at  Maoa,  with  the  king,  iii  groU 
■lale  and  splendour,  the  year  of  this  betrothmenU 

ATief  a  sharp  diepule,  between  Henry  IJ.  and  Lnuia  Vil.,  relaiire  to 
the  portion  of  the  pcinceu  Marguerite,  the  king  of  France  voinprtMiiwd 
the  matter,  by  givbg  the  city  of  Gisors,  as  s  portion,  with  anutfaer  infiuit 
princess  of  France,  named  Alice,  in  1 163.'  This  child  was  in  bet  tliiri 
year  when  wedded  to  prince  Richard,  who  wm  then  acveo  years  old. 
The  liide  princess  was  unfortunately  consigned  to  the  king  of  England 
for  education.  Two  marriages  were  thus  contracted  between  the  datigb- 
ten  of  Louis  VII^  and  the  sons  of  his  diTorceil  queen ;  connesiuo* 
which  must  seem  most  extraordinary,  \v~hen  we  consider  that  the  father 
of  the  brides,  and  the  mother  of  the  bridegrooms,  had  been  married,  tnd 
wero  the  parents  of  children,  who  were  sistere  to  botb- 

l^uisVn.  gB»e  his  eldest  daughter,  by  queen  Eleanora,  in  msrriagBta 
Henry  the  Large,  count  of  Champagne.  It  was  in  this  year  thai  king 
Henry's  troubles  began  with  Thomas  a  Becket,  who  had,  hitherto,  ben 
liis  favourite,  his  friead,  aod  prime  minister. 

Tlie  contest  between  the  king  and  fieeket,  which  fills  bo  matiy  folio 
pages  of  modem  history,  must  be  briefly  glanced  al  here.  It  wm  ibt 
same  quarrel  which  had  agitated  England,  betwt^po  Henry  L  and  Ansdin. 
But  England  no  longer  possessed  a  virtuous  daughter  c^  her  toyti  tttt 
for  a  (jueen,  who,  keenly  feeling  the  cry  of  the  poor  deprived  of  duir 
lawful  provision,  mediated  between  iheee  haughty  epirila.  The  gay, 
luxurious  daughter  of  the  South  was  occupied  wiili  her  own  plfa«ui«, 
and  heeded  not  the  miseries  which  the  king's  aequeslniions  of  limericM 
brought  on  the  destitute  part  of  the  population.  Becket  appealn!  tii  ilit 
empress  Matilda,  the  king's  mother,  who  haughtily  repubcd  his  taiL 
Becket  was  the  son  of  a  London  citizen,  who  had  followed  Edgxr  Albk> 
ling,  on  his  crusading  expedition,  and  was  luade  prisoner  iu  Sjnia^  In 
oblaiiied  his  liberty  through  the  al^lion  of  a  Syrian  lady,  aa  muA 
daughter,  who  followed  her  lover  afler  liis  departure,  and  »iieoee(M  ■ 
finding  him  in  London,  although  slie  knew  but  two  European  vnvdit 
-  London"  and  '■Gilbert,"  the  place  ofabode,  andCIiriBtiannaiiM,of  bn 
lover.  The  pagan  maiden  was  baptized,  hy  the  favourite  NartMn  mat 
of  Matilda,  and  from  this  romantic  union  sprang  Thomas  i  Boekeuwbtt 
was  remarkable  for  his  learning  and  brilliant  talents,  and  his  tine  atainfc 
and  beauty.  The  love  which  Gilbert  Becket  bore  to  the  nee  and  falnoi 
of  Alfred,  which  had  sent  him  crusading  with  prince  Edgar,  readered  biiD 
tlic  firm  partimn  of  his  niece,  the  empress  Matilda. 

Yotmg  Becket  had  taken  the  only  road  to  distinction  i^toi  to  an  AngW- 

■Tha  KKulat  BilBesiioo  ■nd  nippon  of  die  linle  prinetn.  was 
Robert  dp  fiowbuigh,  ooe  of  Heniy  tlie  twcond'a  tarons,  who 
lier  pciMjn,  and  biing  up  die  priocesi  Marnuetilo  in  a  manner  bcBitug  Im  rayal 
tiirlli. 

e  by  Eleanon,  and  this  ddU  1^ 


ELCANORA     OP     AQCITAINE.  185 

he  waa  d/'ihe  churchibul  nol  in  it;  for  he  wm  ndtherptiesl, 
being  rather  a  chureh-lawyer  tlian  a  clergymaii.  Henry  II 
DiahMl  this  Anglo-^oxon  wiiK  peculiar  favour,  lo  die  indignn- 
wifc  anil  mother,  who  warned  hini  aD;aifi9t  feeling  friendship 
lo-Saxon  aerf,  with  the  toailiing  ihal  the  daughters  of  rajalis 
Ibr  a  pariah. 

uf  Cinlerbury  liaving  reitiainei]  vacant  a  year  and  a  half,  Heniy 
ivourti«  to  accept  it,  in  hopes  that  he  would  connive  at  liia 
iwrtitig  the  revenues  of  the  church,  lo  enrich  those  of  the 
litis  was  simply  the  whole  cause  of  the  perpetual  contest, 
)  Attglo-Norman  kings,  and  the  archbishops  of  Canterburyt 
nic{ue«t;  but  «a  the  church  supported  the  desiiiute  poor,  it  is 
lo  decide  which  had  ihe  moral  right.  .Archdeacon  Becket 
it,  if  he  were  once  a  bishop,  he  miial  uphold  the  right*  uf 
{  but  the  king  still  insisted  on  investing  him  with  the  arch- 
The  night  before  his  consecration,  at  supper,  he  told  the 
)m  &rchbiahopric  would  place  an  eternal  bdrrier  between  their 
Henry  would  noi  believe  it.  Beekei  was  consecrated  priesl 
d  was  invested  as  archbiahop  of  Canterbury  the  iiexi.  To 
rce  of  the  king,  he  instantly  resigned  his  chancellorship,  anO 
m  champion  for  the  rights  of  his  see. 
I  yan,  the  contest  between  Becket  and  Henry  continued, 
fa  time  we  have  several  events  to  noie;  and  to  conclude  the 
be  emprees  Matilda. 

left'  regent  of  Normandy  by  her  son,  which  country  she 
ith  great  wisdom,  and  kept  in  a  peaceful  state',  but  she  never 
England. 

ar  1 169,  king  Louis  VII.  gave  the  princess  Alice,  his  youngest 
f  (^ueen  Eleanora,  in  marriage  to  the  count  of  Blois,  but,  at 
^B,  endowed  hini  with  the  otTice  of  bigh-acneschal  of  France, 
the  feudal  right  to  Ilenrj-  II.,  as  count  of  .^njou.  Heniy 
leated  this  disposal  of  his  otTice ;  and  the  empress  his  mother. 
V  the  rising  storm,  and  who  had  been  thoroughly  satialed 
ifron  of  war  in  her  youth,  wrote  lo  pope  Alexander,  begging 
■  her,  to  mediate  between  the  angry  kings. 
crfieyeil  llie  summons  of  the  royal  matron,  and  the  kings 
and  llie  pontiff  at  Gisors.  The  dilTerences  between  Becket 
I.  had  then  risen  to  a  fearful  height.  It  appears  ilial  Mutildii 
t,  by  the  pope,  with  a  commission  of  peace-making,  between 
liit  royal  mui«r.  Emboldened  by  the  mandate  of  ilie  pone, 
t  more  referred  to  llie  empress  Matilda,  as  the  mediator  be- 
hurch  and  her  son,  and  no  more  mei  with  repulse, 
teta  the  disgust,  with  which  Matilda  recoiled  from  any  com 
with  Becket,  as  the  son  of  a  Saxon  villein  \  nevertheless,  this 
hy  means  of  his  eloquent  episdes,  was  beginning  to  exercise 
iominion  over  ilic  mind  of  the  haughty  empress,  that  he  did 
living  cmiunt  with  whom  he  communicated.     Heifry  11,, 

den.     GuiVBSe.     Kewliurj-. 


I 


L 


180  BLKA7IOBA    Or    AfJUITAIXK. 

■Uniml  Bt  his  progrMa,  wu  lo  hia  lUOLher  a  priest  Damftl  John  of  Ox- 
fonl,  wlia  wu  cliarCHl  lo  infurtn  her  of  mmiy  [jarUcuJ&rs  dna|Uat]r  lo 
Burket's  morel  chftractpi--eveiiu  probably  lliAi  bappcnnl  dnhag  hii  gtf 
uid  iiisj^nificenl  ean«T,  w  clwnrrllor  uiJ  ^rrliiJcacun. 

The  dmlh  of  thn  duke  of  Bretagne  had  rjJIod  Henry  II  lo  Uike  [nm> 
Hvsinn  of  thfti  iluchy,  iii  the  iihuic  ft(  ihe  iiitniit  iluclicss  Constaiiea<wd 
hcT  hclrotlitxl  loni,  his  aun  Grolirey,  when  ihe  neu-s  arrived  of  the  dMlfa 
of  ilie  empresi  Matilda,  which  occurred  SrpLeiuber  10, 1167.     Thpa» 
thi-r  of  llcorj-  II,  was  deeply  regreued  io  Nonnandy,  where  she  wu 
called  «  ibe  lady  of  iho  English."     She  governtnl  NomaDiiy  wiih  di»-    . 
cretlun  and  muderalion,  applyiti;;  her  rcvnnuea  wholly  to  ilie  bcnefiiof 
the  roniiuon  weal,  and  mnny  public  works.'     Her  partiality  for  briil^ 
huildmg  is  the  only  point  of  Tc^smblBiice  between  her  actions  aiul  ihon    . 
of  bfr  mother.     While  rt-geni  of  Nunnaody,  she  applied  her  prinu    , 
revenues  to  building;  l)ie  niagniticenl  alone  bridge,  of  tliirtern  arehcii    r- 
over  the  Seine,  colled  Le  Grand  Pont.     The  conBlruciion  of  this  bndp    i 
was  one  of  the  woiideia  of  th«  age.  being  biull  with  currcd  piers,  lo    ' 
humour  the  npid  current  of  the  liver.     The  enipreas  built  aiul  cndmnd    L 
three  inonasleries ;  among  these  was  tlie  niagniltceni  strurture  of  & 
Ouen.    She  resided  chiefly  at  tlie  palace  of  Kouen,  willi  occaaional  ritf 
to  the  abbey  of  Bcc. 

Matihln  Was  interred,  wilK  roynl  honour*,  in  the  abbey  of  Bee  bdbrt 
tlie  altar  of  tlie  Virgin.  Her  son  lefl  his  critical  aiGiira  in  Bretagnale 
attend  her  futieml.  He  mitted  a  stately  marble  tomb  lo  her  uieiB«T> 
tipon  it  was  the  following  epitaph,  whose  climax  tends  rather  to  adnoci 
the  glory  of  the  stirnTing  son,  than  the  defunct  mother : — 

"Grnl  bom,  ppsl  inntiifi'l,  gteaier  bnniglii  lo  beil, 
Ui^ie  Ueiaj't  dauglitec,  wife,  awl  molhcr'a  laid."* 

Here  her  body  remaineil  till  the  year  1282,  when  the  abbey  cbtud) 
of  Bee  being  rebuilt,  the  workmen  discorered  it,  wrapped  up  in  an  a- 
hide.  The  colHn  was  taken  up,  and,  with  great  solemnity,  re-intcmd 
in  the  middle  of  ihe  chancel,  before  the  high  altar.  The  ancieal  loob 
was  removed  tu  the  saiiie  place,  and,  with  the  atieniion  the  dioith  cf 
Rome  ever  showed  to  the  memory  of  a  foundreas,  erected  over  the  Bt> 
grave.  This  structure  foiling  to  decay,  in  the  seirenteenth  cenuuy,iu 
place  was  supplied  by  a  liue  monument  of  brass,  with  &  ponpow 

The  character  of  this  celebrated  ancestress  of  our  royal  line  wis  U 
much  revered  by  the  Normaiw,  as  disliked  by  the  English.  B<«W» 
Henry  II..  she  was  the  mother  of  two  sons,  Geullrey  and  Willinni,  who 
both  preceded  her  to  the  giave. 

Queen  Elinors  was  lesideiit,  during  these  events,  at  the  palaca  of 
Woodstock,  where  prince  John  was  bom,  in  the  year  1100. 

Henry  comj^ctcd  the  noble  hall  of  the  palace  of  Rouen.'  bc^mi  br 


'  Ducaier*  Sonnsiuij, 
'  -  Onu  nuisna,  vita  mijoi,  wd  inaitma  par 
Hie  jacBi  Ueiuici  filia,  (paiua,  pueo*." 


J 


R&KORA    OF     AdUITAIXE. 

Uenry  I-,  and  nearly  finished  by  the  einpreas  Matilda.  He  seat  for  queen 
^  Vrnioro,  from  England,  lo  btiog  her  daughier,  ihe  prim^sa  Matilda,  lliot 
t  Ae  uiigbt  be  luarnMl  to  her  alfianced  lord,  Heniy  the  Lion,  duke  of 
'  fkxauy.  The  nupiioi  fcaat  was  celebrated  in  the  newly-tiniehed  hull  of 
i  touM)  Palacv,  lim  opened  Tor  this  stalely  banquet,  1167. 

(^ireD  Eleinore  wns  left  regent  of  Normandy  by  her  royal  lord ;  but 
>hc  prople,  discontented  at  the  loss  of  tlie  empresa  Matildn,  rebelled, 
i^iui  her  authority ;  which  insurrection  obliged  ileury  to  come  to  ths 
ul  of  his  wife. 

tiaicnue  and  Poilou  became  in  a  slate  of  revolt  soon  after.'  The 
ptuftle,  who  earnestly  desired  Eleanors,  their  native  princess,  to  govern 
ihcm,  would  not  he  pacified  till  Henry  brought  Ins  queen,  and  left  Iter 
tt  Bounleaux,  with  her  son  Kichard.  Ileury,  ilie  heir  of  England,  wu 
cQUiled  (be  duke  of  Guienne ;  hut  for  Eleanora's  favourite  eon,  Richard, 
'- 1->  inlcndrd  the  county  of  Poitou,  subject  lo  vassalage  to  his  broilier 

i:  tather.  This  arrangement  quietetl  the  discontents  of  Aqiiitnine. 
I  K-  princrss  Marguerite,  the  young  wife  of  prince  Henry,  was  Ictt  in 
I  <  uirnne,  with  her  mother-in-law,  while  Henry  II.  and  his  heir  proceeded 
lA  Engl&udt  then  conviils«d  with  the  disputes  between  church  and  stale) 
rATTKd  on  by  Becket  Queen  Eleanora  and  prince  Richard  remained  at 
B-iunleaux,  lo  ihe  satisfaction  of  the  people  of  the  South,  who  were 
'vlightetl  Willi  the  presence  of  iheir  reigning  family,  although  the  Nor- 

Ul  deputies  of  king  Henry  still  continued  to  exercise  all  the  real 
,  -ftr  of  the  government. 

The  heart  of  Heiirj's  son  and  lieir  siill  yearned  to  his  old  tutor, 
Irrkel — an  allection  which  the  king  beheld  with  jealousy.  In  order  to 
UFBO  hie  son  from  this  attachmenU  in  which  ibe  young  princess  Mor- 
pinite  fully  shared,  Henry  11.  resolved,  in  iinilaiioii  of  ihe  Capetian 
roiil  family,  to  have  hia  sou  crowned  king  at  Westminster  Abbey,  and 
lu  usocmie  him  in  die  Bovernment. 

"Be  glad,  my  son,"*  said  Henry  II.  lo  his  son,  at  this  coronalioDt 
■then  be  set  the  first  dish  on  the  table,  at  the  coronation  banquet;  ''then 
is  DO  prince  in  Europe  has  such  a  sewer*  at  his  table  V 

''So  tivM  coDdesceneion  fur  the  eod  of  an  earl  to  wait  on  i 
of  X  iting,"  rrplied  the  young  prince,  aside  to  the  earl  of  Leicesle 

Ths  princrss  Marguerite  was  not  crowned  at  the  same  time  with  her 
hoabvia  ;*  she  remained  in  Aquitaine,  with  her  mother-in-law,  queen 
□raaon.  Her  faiJier,  the  king  of  France,  was  enmged  at  this  slight 
nttatd  to  his  daughter,  and  Hew  to  arms  to  avenge  the  afTront  Yet  it 
WW  no  bult  of  king  Henry,  who  had  made  every  preparatio 
cDrMMtion  of  ihe  princess,  even  to  ordering  her  royal  robea  to  be  in 
nwltaeM.  But  when  !t1arguerite  found  that  Becket.  the  guardian  of  her 
foatli,  ma  not  to  crown  her,  she  perversely  refused  to  share  the  i 
aMJoti  of  her  husband. 


I 


•Hoi 


'<len. 


'TrnelL 

'Tbl  Mm  c™  ^^  *^'^  funuiioiiB  ar  the  grand  seneschal  of  France,  which 
Bsnrf  bad  VtpufOno.  b*  bii  t'cudaJ  wrvke,  at  ilie  coiouailon  ofa  liiiig  of  FraaiM 
ttamat  of  Anjou,  tni  Ui  liit  pertbimiog  ths  caiue  office  at  hu  toit't  bouquet. 

■rMaof  Uou. 


r 


I 


JM  Bl£A»ORA     OP    AqCITAlNB. 

Th«  rhnrartpr  of  Henry  11-.  ilnrinp  the  Ifmg  strife  tluil  mibfi^teil 
brtwrcn  him  and  hii  fnrmrr  friondt  tuiJ  cltan^l  fmtii  ihe  ntlra  ht-mism 
pnnniTed  by  Poler  of  Rloia ;  he  haij  p*«ii  way  I"  fiW  «f  violence,  ajt)- 
nizin?  to  himrelf,  and  tlangnous  to  hia  hmlih.  I(  waa  raid,  ili&i  wliea 
Biiy  tHlincs  cain«,  of  the  eootnidiction  of  his  will  by  Borkel,  lie  v/nttiA 
Tear  his  nsir,  and  mil  on  the  ground  with  ntgc,  gnuping  baaileful  of 
ruehea,  in  the  paroiyams  of  his  pMainn.' 

It  woi  ionn  after  <}nf  of  these  frenziea  of  m^,  that.  In  1170,  ho  fril 
ill,'  at  Domfroni,  in  Maine ;  he  then  made  hia  will,  bclierine  hia  nnd 
apprnaching.  To  hia  son  Hmry,  he  left  Fngland,  Normandy,  Ktiiius 
and  Anjou;  to  Ridiard  he  li'ft  the  Atiuilauian  fJotninionB;  tieolTrey  b«il 
Brctngno,  in  right  of  his  wife,  while  John  was  left  depcndpnt  oo  hi« 
hroilicrs.  From  this  order  of  affiiira  John  obtained  ihc  nicluuune  of 
].itcklttnd,  first  gi»en  him  by  Henry  himself,  in  jeal,  sifler  hia  recovwr. 

During  a  fit  of  penitence,  when  he  thought  himself  nev  death,  Ueniy 
•ought  reeoncilialion  with  Beekel ;  but  when  fresh  con  trad  ietiona  aroM, 
between  the  archbiahop  and  the  king,  in  <me  of  those  violent  accMaiMU 
of  fury  desrribed  above,  Henry  unfortunately  demnndEd,  in  his  nge, 
before  the  knights  who  attended  in  his  bedehamher,'  **  Whether  no  mm 
loved  him  enough  to  revenge  the  sffronU  he  perpetually  received  frtw 
an  insolent  priest?" 

On  this  liint,  Piiz-Urse,  Trucey,  Brillon,  anJ  Morville,  slaoghtenJ 
Becket,  before  the  altar  in  his  eathedral,  (ha  last  day  cf  tlie  year  llTl. 


ELEANORA  OF  AQUITAINE, 

QUEEN  OF  HENRY  II. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Elfiuiora  in  Aquiuine  —  ControlJed  by  Normans — Cnnipirei  v:-^  ' 

Jpn)oii»y — EKap«s,  in  man's  anini — Mentis  «>  virii  hor  frn- 

Sei<oil— -CBiricd  prisnnoi  w  Bounleaiix — Quean  Huiucrilr.  >  ■ 

law — TUb  Iwo  qaiHm*  in  caplivily — Henry  dpr»«l«  bi*  xoas —  I" 

wncd  in  Winohsiier  ynlace — DsKih  of  RubuoudiI — Turhulrai 

otid  Eleaooi* — TrouLadoui  n^talon — Deatli  of  ihe  ynuiiget  L:: 

recoiioilialion  uf  king  and  queen — Piinee  Rirbant'a  wronK* — '' 

Rppom  of  riiroroo — Ekanor  npiin  tmprisoned — Sonjti  eono.  : . 

snlyKis'  tors  —  D«aih  oT  prinoa  Oeoflroy — Oricr  d(   Elifnr.    . 

bruu^hi  ID  Poiion — Clnlnu  lior  doiniiuon*  of  priuoc  RichanJ^I' 

tliiqutet* — -Dcttih — Buiial — Quaan  iii  captiviif — King  RichoiLl   :<  .     — 

Api'iinu  hei  queen  refill  —  Her  justice — Tteaaoie-vnull  n:    '.'^     .     ■        - 

Queen  mnilicts  ilower — Eleanorn sou  out  for  Nnvnrre — Berei.^;  l;    ■      I 

drnvet  at  Mefsina.  villi   Kiclinrit's  liciile  —  Depiiu  —  Meilim.'!  .1   .ij-^  ii<<    •: 

Bonie^Eleanora'a  reiieiKy — Uel  tailfome  tgo. 

'  HoTpHen.  '  Bronipton.     Gcrvue.  Hovtvlra. 

'  yiti-SippIien  call)  Ihe  four  wbo  murdered  the  sichbishop,  tjw  bataiu  m  m 
vauu  of  ifae  king's  bedchambet. 


■  LSAXORA    OF    AQUITAINE.  IS9 

From  the  tinie  of  the  marrio^  of  her  daughter  Matilda  to  tiie  Lion 
uf  Saxony,  EHeanora  had  not  visited  England.  The  coronation  of  her 
eldest  son,  and  the  marder  of  Becket,  had  occurred  while  she  resided  in 
her  native  province.  She  had  seen  her  son  Richard,  in  1170,  crowned 
count  of  Poiton,  with  all  the  ceremonies  pertaining  to  the  inauguration 
of  her  ancestors.  But  king  Henry  only  meant  his  sons  to  superintend 
ihe  state  and  pageantry  of  a  court ;  he  did  not  intend  that  they  should 
exercise  independent  authority ;  and  Richard's  will  was  curbed,  by  the 
biihiiil  Norman  reterans  pertaining  to  his  fether.  These  castellans  were 
Ihe  real  governors  of  Gnienne ;  an  order  of  aflkirs  equally  disapproved 
of  by  prince  Richard,  queen  Elcanora,  and  their  Aquitanian  subjects. 
The  queen  told  her  sons '  Richard  and  Geoflrey,  that  Guienne  and  Poitou 
owed  no  obedience  to  a  king  of  England,  or  to  his  Normans ;  if  they 
owed  homage  to  any  one,  it  was  to  the  sovereign  of  France ;  and  Richard 
•od  Geoflrey  resolved  to  act  as  their  Provencal  forefathers  of  old,  and 
pay  no  homage  to  a  king  of  England. 

All  these  fermentations  were  approaching  a  violent  crisis,  when  Henry 
lU  in  the  summer  of  1 173,  arrived,  with  his  son,  the  young  king,  in 
Guienne,  to  receive  the  long-delayed  homage  of  count  Raymond  of 
Thoalonse,  and  to  inquire  into  the  meaning  of  some  revolts  in  the  south, 
against  his  Norman  castellans,  evidently  encouraged  by  his  wife  and 
prince  Richard. 

It  was  part  of  the  duty  of  a  feudal  vassal  to  ffive  his  sovereign  advice 
in  time  of  need;  and  when  Raymond  of  Thoulouse'  came  to  this  part 
of  his  oath  of  homage,  as  he  knelt  before  Henry  II.,  he  interpolated  it 
with  these  emphatic  words: — 
^  Then  I  advise  you,  king,  to  beware  of  your  wife  and  sons." 
That  very  night  the  young  king,  although  he  always  slept  in  his 
fiither's  bedroom,  escaped  to  the  protection  of  his  father-in-law,  Louis 
Vf  I.    From  Paris  he  made  all  manner  of  undutiful  demands  on  his  father. 
Simultaneously  with  the  flight  of  young  Henry,  his  brothers,  Richard 
and  Groffrey,  decamped  for  Paris.    Richard's  grievance  was,  that  his 
wife,  the  princess  Alice  of  France,  was  withheld  from  him ;  while  Geof- 
frey insisted,  as  he  had  arrived  at  the  mature  age  of  sixteen,  that  the 
duchy  of  Bretagne,  and  his  wife  Constance,  whose  dower  it  was,  should 
be  given  to  his  sole  control. 

Reports  had  been  brought  to  Eleanora,  that  her  husband  meditated  a 
diforcc;  for  some  lady  had  been  installed,  with  almost  regal  honours,  in 
her  apartments  at  Woodstock.  Court  scandal  pointed  at  her  daughter- 
in4aw,  the  princess  Alice,  whose  youthful  charms,  it  was  said,  had  cap- 
tivated her  fiither-in-law,  and  for  that  reason  the  damsel  was  detained 
from  her  afiianced  lord,  prince  Richard.  Enraged  at  these  rumours, 
Deanoia  resolved  to  seek  the  protection  of  the  king  of  France;  but  as 
she  was  surrounded  by  Henry's  Norman  garrisons,  she  possessed  so 
little  power  in  her  own  domains  as  to  be  reduced  to  quit  them  in  dis- 
guise. She  assumed  male  attire,  and  had  travelled  part  of  her  way  in 
this  dress,  when  Henry's  Norman  agents  followed,  and  seixed  her,  before 

■  Script  Rer.  Pnnc.  'Hud.  'Gervmte. 


I 


I 


I 


190  BLEANORA    OF    A<]riTAIKe. 

she  Miuld  reach  the  lerritorics  of  her  ilivorced  husband.  They  brongh 
her  back  very  rudely,  in  ihn  diB^ise  she  had  adopted,  and  kepi  her  pn- 
■oner  in  Bouideaux,  till  the  arrival  of  her  husband.  Her  son*  punuol 
their  flight  safely,  to  the  court  of  the  king  of  France. 

Now  commenced  thai  long,  dolorous,  and  mysterious  inipri*oniDrai, 
which  may  be  considered  the  third  era  in  the  life  of  Eleanors  of  A()utitii)i. 
Bui  the  imprisonment  of  queen  Elcanora  was  not  stationary ;  we  net 
her  carried,  with  her  royal  husband,  in  a  stale  of  restroinL,  to  Barflent. 
where  he  embarked  for  England.  He  had  another  prisoner,  in  coin{aBT 
with  Eleanora;  this  was  his  dauehter-in-law,  the  young  Marguerite,  who 
hod  roniumaciouely  defied  him,  left  the  royal  robes,  he  had  made  for 
her  coronation,  unworn  upon  his  hands,  and  scorned  the  crown  be  had 
Dllered  lo  place  on  her  brow,  if  not  consecrated  by  BeckeL  With  tbtH 
royal  captives,  Henry  11.  Innded  at  Southampton,  some  timcin  July,  llTl.' 

Henry  11.  proceeded  directly  lo  Canterbury,  carrying  the  captive  (jntou 
in  his  train.  Here  ho  performed  the  celebrated  penance  bo  ofien  desrnhid, 
Bt  the  tomb  of  Becket.  We  have  no  new  light  to  throw  on  this  wdl- 
known  occurrence,  except  the  extreme  satisfaction  that  his  daughtTf-il- 
law  Marguerite  (who  was  in  the  city  of  Canterbury  at  the  time)  nmo 
have  felt  at  the  sufleringB  and  humiliation  of  the  man  who  had  aund 
the  death  of  her  tutor  and  friend. 

Scarcely  had  king  Henry  completed  his  penance,  when  tidings  mm 
brought  him  that  his  high  constable  had  defeated  prince  Ridianl  and  it 
earl  of  Leicester,  near  Bury ;'  and  this  news  was  followed  hy  a  meaMiiflr 
announcing  the  capture  of  king  William  the  Lion,  at  Alnwick,  anil  IM 
the  royal  prisoner  was  approaching,  with  his  legs  tied  beneath  hiti  bim* 
— the  most  approved  method  of  showing  contumely  lo  a  'm;.;.'. 
middle  ages.    All  this  manifested  very  clearly,  lo  the  Angl 
Sl  Thon^as  had  forgiven  his  royul  friend,  and  was  now  F\r  : 
very  actively  in  his  behalf;  but  when,  within  a  very  few  li    . 
genre  came  that  the  fleet  of  young  king  Henry,  which  had  act  i^ail  it>  in- 
vade England,  had  been  entirely  demolished  by  a  siorm,  public  enthuraM 
for  the  saint  knew  no  bounds.    The  king  went  to  return  UMoki  tok 
Thomas,  at  the  shrine  before  which  he  had  done  penance,  and  (be  ptW 
oflhe  kingdom  was  wholly  restored. 

Then  was  queen  Deanore  consigned  to  confinement,  which  hflli 
with  but  short  intervals,  for  sixteen  years.  Her  prison  w««  no  wflBi 
place  ihen  ber  own  loyal  palace  at  Winchester,*  where  she  ww  wcB 
guanled  bv  her  hhsband^s  great  justiciary  and  general,  Ranulph  de  Gka- 
ville.  who  likewise  had  the  chan^  of  the  royal  treasury,  at  the  mat 
place.  That  GlanviUe  treated  her  with  respect,  is  evident  from  lotti 
subse<{iient  events. 

The  poor  penitent  at  Godstow  expired  in  the  midst  of  these 
— nol  cut  ofl"  in  her  brilliant  youth  by  queen  Eleanora,  but  "  fron 

'  Diceio.     Dr.  Henry  hss  litapwi^eliaced  tlie  progress  of  Henry  widi  tWQ  ■ 
Dom  ilic  eonlcrnporary  chromeleri,  'B(o 

*B*nc(iict  Abluf.  and  m»n)r  chiDniclM.    Benedioi 
during  liei  long  Tps^icf,  in  ihe  sacceeiling  rpign;  ibeTefm 
irlMra  fail  TO^l  miitreN  Te^e4,d«nac  w  long  a  period  atbm  life. 


ELBANORA    OF    AQUITAINB.  191 

icay  by  pining.^  She  was  nearly  forty,  and  was  the  mother  of  two 
ofl,  both  of  age.  She  died  practising  the  severest  penances,  in  the  high 
lour  of  sanctity,  and  may  be  considered  the  Magdalen  of  the  middle 
*eB.  Tradition  says  she  declared  on  her  death-bed,  that  when  a  certain 
ee'  she  named,  in  the  convent  garden,  was  turned  to  stone,  they  would 
now  the  time  she  was  received  into  glory.'  She  died  deeply  venerate<i 
f  the  simple-hearted  nuns  of  Go<]stow,  who  would  have  been  infinitely 
»idalized  had  she  received  visits  from  Henrv.  Nor  does  one  of  the 
any  church  manifestoes,  fulminated  against  Henry,  charge  him  with 
ich  an  aggravation  of  his  ofiences  as  the  seduction  of  a  nun ;  an  indu- 
itmble  proof  that  the  conventual  vows  had  effectually  estranged  Henry 
nd  Rosamond. 

As  the  princess  Alice  was  still  the  betrothed  of  prince  Richard,  no 
ne  dared  to  hint  at  anything  so  deeply  heinous  as  her  seduction  by  her 
ither-in-law ;  for  the  vengeance  of  the  victorious  Henry  would  have 
everely  visited  the  promulgators  of  such  scandal.  The  public,  finding 
bat  the  queen  was  imprisoned  on  account  of  her  restless  jealousy,  com- 
•icd  the  circumstance  with  the  death  of  Rosamond,  and  revived  the  old 
tory  of  Henry's  passion  for  the  penitent  of  Godstow.  From  this  acci- 
leatal  coincidence,  of  Eleanora's  imprisonment  and  Rosamond's  death, 
he  memory  of  the  queen  has  been  unjustly  burdened  with  the  murder 
if  her  former  ri\'al. 

Henry  U.  seems  to  have  indulged  his  eldest  and  his  youngest  son, 

*The  body  of  Rosamond  was  buried  at  Grodstow,  near  Oxford,  a  little  nunnery 
mong  the  rich  meadows  of  Evonlod.  (Camden.)  According  to  the  peculiar 
Uftom  of  the  times,  the  grave  was  not  closed,  but  a  sort  of  temporary  tabernacle, 
ailed  in  chronicle  a  hearse,  (of  which  the  modern  hatchment  is  a  relic,)  was 
tected  over  the  coffin;  this  was  raised  before  the  high  altar,  covered  with  a  pall 
f  fcir  white  silk,  tapers  burnt  around  it,  and  banners  with  emblazonment  waved 
•ver  it.  Thus  lying  in  state,  it  awaited  the  time  for  the  erection  of  a  monu- 
bent  Twenty  years  afler,  the  stern  moralist,  St.  Hugh,  bishop  of  Lincoln,  in  a 
onne  of  visitation  of  convents,  came  to  Grodstow,  and  demanded,  "  Who  laid 
bcfe  in  soch  state  under  that  rich  hearse?"  And  when  the  simple  nuns  replied. 

It  was  the  corpse  of  their  penitent  sister,  Rosamond  Cliflbrd,"  the  reformer, 
lerfaaps  remembering  she  was  the  mother  of  his  superior,  the  archbishop,  de- 
lared  **  that  the  hearse  of  a  harlot  was  not  a  fit  spectacle  for  a  quire  of  virgins 
>  contemplate,  nor  was  the  front  of  God's  altar  a  proper  station  for  it.*'  He 
ben  gave  orders  for  the  expulsion  of  the  coffin  into  the  churchyard.  The  sisters 
f  Godstow  were  forced  to  obey  at  the  time ;  but  after  the  death  of  St  Hugh, 
bey  gathered  the  bones  of  RoKimond  into  a  perfumed  bag  of  leather,  which 
liey  enclosed  in  a  leaden  case,  and,  with  all  the  pertinacity  of  woman's  afiec- 
ion,  deposited  them  in  their  original  place  of  interment  pretending  that  the 
nnalbrmation  of  the  tree  had  taken  place,  according  to  Rosamond's  prophecy. 
ouihey  records  a  visit  to  the  ruins  of  Grodstow.  The  principal  remnant  serves 
M*  a  cowhouse.  A  nu^tree  grows  out  of  the  penitent's  grave,  which  bears  every 
tmx  a  profusion  of  nuts  without  kernels.  King  John  thought  proper  to  raise  a 
Mnb  to  the  memory  of  Rosamond ;  it  was  embossed  with  fair  brass,  having  an 
BKription  about  its  edges,  in  Latin,  to  this  effect : — 

**  This  tomb  doth  here  enclose  I    Rose  passing  sweet  erewhile, 

The  world's  most  beauteous  rose-~    |    Now  nought  but  odour  vile.** 

'Boswell't  Antiquitiai. 


I 


I 


VB  BtEA50KA     OF     A  q  C  I  T  A  15  B. 

with  ibeiDMt  rainous  I'-indnes^;  he  slway°  kepi  them  near  him,  if  m 
sible,  while  ptioce  Itichard  mill  priric«  Genflrpy.  equally  belmed  by  tb 
moilier,  were  ctiielly  reaiJint  with  her,  on  the  contiaenL  Prince  John 
luul  entirely  an  English  piliitrniion,  hnviDg  for  bis  luloc  ihM  Ittraid 
ecclesiastic,  allied  to  the  Welsh  myal  loniily,  well  known  to  biUohMi^ 
aa  Ihe  chronicler  Ginldus  Csnibrienets.  liut  aaiatl  profit,  eilhar  to  lill 
rottnliy  or  lo  bimKlf,  accrued  from  the  English  edacaiioa  oi  pmN 

Through  the  mediation  or  the  king  «f  France,  his  &iher-ia-lsw,  ihi 
youiig  king  Henry  waa  reconciled  to  Henry  II.  for  a  time,  and  hia  ^Miit 
queen  Marguerite  was  restored  lo  him.  King  Louii  hiinaelf  ria^ 
England  in  1 179,  for  [he  purpose  of  praying  for  hiit  son's  health  ■■  tto 
ahrine  of  St  Thomas  a  Becket 

PfoHvithaiaading  the  singular  relationship  in  which  the  kings  of  Eof- 
land  and  France  stood  to  each  other,  as  the  former  and  presirol  hmhanJ 
of  the  same  queen,  ihey  appear  to  hnre  frequently  met  in  friendly  tni0> 
course.  Henry  recei red  Louis  with  much  respect,  and  rode  all  nigh, 
Augiu^  18,  with  his  train,  lo  meet  Louia  VII.  at  Dover,  where  the  cfarth 
nicjers  relate  that  Henry  made  many  curious  observations,  on  ■  toul 
eclipae  of  the  moon,  which  happened  during  his  nocturnal  joutney,— I 
&CI  reminding  us  of  hia  fondness  for  scientific  questions,  as  rvcordad  i> 
hia  character  by  Peter  of  Blois. 

Henry  il.  aKerwards  took  hia  royal  ^est  to  his  Wincbeater  Palan. 
where  he  showed  him  his  treasure-van! U  and  invited  him  to  t^e  ay- 
thing  he  chose.  Queen  EUeanora  was  then  at  ^Vinchester,  bill  wbOM 
she  met  her  divorced  lord,  is  not  recorded. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  months  Louis  VII.  died,  of  a  cold  cangfel  tf 
his  vigils  near  the  lomb  of  St.  Thomas  a  Becket.  Such  was  the  ad  itf 
the  first  husband  of  Elcanora  of  Aquitainc. 

To  enter  into  a  minute  detail  of  all  the  rebellions  and  iuaarrectMi 
nDdcriakcn  by  the  insurgent  sons  of  Eleanora,  during  their  mother's  m- 
prisonment,  were  an  endless,  and  indeed  an  impracticable  task,  h  unal 
suffice  to  hold  up  a  picture  of  the  manners  and  temper  of  the  peoal* 
over  whom  she  \t'as  the  hereditary  sovereign,  and  who  diadaiDed  at 
rule  of  any  stranger,  however  nearly  connected  with  the  hcinsa  o^  ihi 
country. 

All  the  elements  of  strife  were  kept  in  a  perpetual  slate  of  actitkfi 
by  the  combativeness  of  the  troubadours,  whose  tensons,  or  W-*0$ft 
perpetually  urged  the  sons  of  Elcanora  to  batde,  when  ihoy  WW 
inclined  lo  repose-  Such,  among  many  of  inferior  genius,  was  BnlB  ' 
de  Bom,  viscoum  de  Hauteforle,  whom  Danie  has  inlroduccd  with  n 
lerrilic  grandeur,  in  his  Inferno,  aa  the  mischief-maker  betwr<en  H^n 
II.  and  prince  John.  But  he  hcgan  this  work  tvith  Henry's  eldMaw 
beet  beloved  son.  Bertrand,  and  all  the  other  Iroubadoan,  haia)  Bmtf 
II.,  whom  they  considered  as  an  interloper,  and  a  pen^uior  of  An 
rightful  princess,  the  duchess  of  Aquitaine,  hia  wife.  It  is  aaiil  iJist  Bcr- 
irand  was  in  love  with  queen  Eleanora,  for  he  addresses  many  COTwt 
declaialiona  to  a  "  royal  Eleanora"  in  his  chatumu,  adtfiag  ezxttbaglir 


KtBANORA    OF     AQCrTAIlfK.  I 

"ihey  were  not  unknown  lo  her,  for  she  mn  rrail!"'  But  there 
fe«  misuhe  of  the  mother  for  ibe  datiuluer,  since  prince  Ridianl,  who 
■M  ■  bruthor  tronbadi>ur,  eiiconfaeivl  Benraiid  in  a  [m.isioi)  for  liia  beao- 
iTiii  miter  Klntnoia;'  and  to  i!ie  daughter  of  ihc  queen  nf  England,  r 
iL^'plf,  these  passionate  declamliona  were  addressed. 
ifie  nudsi  of  insurrection  against  his  aire,  ihe  maiiTspring  <^  which 
liiR  itiec-uaiit  sini^le  to  obtain  an  independent  sovereignly,  yoang 
.,i.iy  Plunlagenel  died,  at  the  easile  of  Martel  inGmenne,ia  histwcnty- 
ngtitn  y«w.  Whea  he  foond  his  illness  mortal,  he  was  seized  with 
Iwp  renonci  for  his  frequent  rebellions  against  his  eTer-indii)s?nl  fntlier. 
lie  aent  to  king  Uenry,  to  implore  his  pardon  for  his  trane^reasionf. 
itfan  he  expired,  he  had  the  saiisfHction  of  receiving  a  rin^'  frnm  his  , 
m.  as  *  token  of  forgiveness.  On  the  receipt  of  this  pledQ;c  of  atTcc-  i 
IMM,  Uie  penitence  of  the  dying  prince  became  passionate;  when  ex- 
fimgt  he  caused  himself  to  be  mken  out  of  bed,  and  died  on  sackcloth  ' 
nd  sehea,  u  an  atonement  for  his  sins. 

The  death  of  their  heir  for  a  short  time  reconcile  queen  Dcanora 
lad  her  royal  husband.  Henry  moiirned  for  the  loss  of  this  son,  with 
Ike  deep  grief  of  David  over  Absalom.  The  contemporary  chroniclers 
l|m,  that  from  the  year  1 183  to  the  year  1 18-1,  when  the  princess  jtla- 
id^a,  with  her  hu.iband  Henry  the  Lion  of  Suxuiiy,  sought  rpfuge  in 
Ei^ud,  tlie  captive  queen  was  restored  to  her  r^nk  al  the  English 

Bce  Richard,  now  become  the  heir  of  Henry  and  Eleanors,  remained 

«  quiet,  in  order  to  see  how  his  talher  would  condnct  himself 

urn.     Although  he  had  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven,  and 

incesB  to  whom  he  was  half-married  was  twenty-three,  she  was 

I  detained  from  hJm.     Richard  had  formed,  at  Guicnne,*  an  attach- 

it  to  a  virtuous  and  beautiful  princess,  the  daughter  of  a  neighbouring 

ito,  and  he  was  anxious  that  his  mysterinus  eulanglement  with  the 

a  Alice  shoulrl  be  brought  to  a  termination. 

Richard  seems  to  have  met  with  nought  but  injury  from  his  lathery 

nor  tns  Ilia   brother  Geoffrey  much    belter    Ireutei).     The  continual 

upacy  of  prince  Richard,  in  regard  to  the  princess  Alice,  was  met 

wub  eoiutant  evasion.     Reports  were  renewed,  of  the  king's  intention 

lodi*a«ee  queen  Eleanora;  and  the  legate  resident  in  England,  cardinal 

Hugo,  vaa  conaidted  on  the  practicabdily  of  this  divorce,  and  likewise 

m  ihs  poasibtlity  of  obtaining  a  dispensation  for  the  king's  marriage 

nth  some  person  nearly  allied  to  him.' 

The  cooae^uence  wa.*,  that  prince  Richard  flew  to  arms,  and  got  pos- 

'    t  0^  hia  mother's  inheritance,  while  queen  Eleanora  was  again 

o  some  restraint  in  Winchester  Pnlnce. 


■lTUeii7. 

i  Auniljr  conaidcre'l  the   love  of  die  noble  Ii 
■ion,  uiil    (lie  yoiiiig    princeta  was    married 
at  of  rasdHo.     It  WB«  no  trifle  in  the  eyes  of  Be 
_  I,  1^  lb*  Rer»  R»l1cs9nasa  with  whii-'b  ha  ilislur 
f  the  Ufr  of  Henry  II. — Msinonili. 

It  Abha*.  *  UoTcilen  and  Dr.  HeiiFjr, 


I 


I 


;1M  BLBANOB*     OF     AQtlTAtKB. 

The  leoB^ihened  im prison iiicnl  of  qnpeti  EDeanora  infuriaied  ber  mA- 
jecu  ill  .Aquitaiiic.  Tlie  tr'>ti  bad  ours  rnuKcil  Llie  national  sprrii  in  &TDai 
of  Uipir  nalJTe  princess.  Iiy  surh  airnins  as  tficsc,  which  were  the  >■^ 
■on^  iliHi  Biiiniatcd  ilie  contest  maiuuiiietl  by  Hichanj  in  the  auoe  i( 
hw  mother. 

'-  Dnughler  of  AqiiiUnia,'  fair  rniiiful  vine,  ihnu  hn.*l  brm  tarn  Ira 
thy  country,  and  leil  inin  a  stmnge  lonil.  Thy  harp  is  chnne«!  mlo  iht 
voice  o^  cnouruiiig.  and  iliy  snngs  into  aounilE  of  lameuuiiiun.  Bron^ 
up  in  delicacy  ami  nbuDdaiice,  ihou  onjoyed«  a  royal  liberty,  livine  ia 
the  bosom  of  wealth,  delighting  thyself  with  the  sports  of  tiiy  noawa, 
with  their  snngs,  to  the  sound  of  the  lute  and  tabor:  and  now  thai 
moumest,  ihoti  weepeai,  thou  consumest  thyself  with  aorrow.  H«a^ 
poor  prisoner — return  to  thy  cities,  if  ihnn  cnn«t;  ond  if  thou  cwMoaf 
weep  and  say, 'Alas!  how  long  is  uiyexjle!'  Weep,  weep,  and  iq^ 
'  My  tears  are  my  bread  both  day  anil  nig'ht^  " 

"  Where  are  thy  guards,  thy  royal  escort? — where  thy  maiden  tnua. 
thy  counsellora  of  slate  ?  Some  of  them,  dragged  far  from  thj  country, 
have  sulTered  an  ignominous  death;  others  have  been  deprived  of^igbij 
others  banish^  and  wandering  in  divers  places.  Thou  CTiest,hni  as 
one  hears  thee ! — for  the  kinjj  of  the  norili  keeps  thee  shut  np  bkc  i 
lawn  that  is  besieged.  Cry,  then— cease  not  to  cry  !  Itnise  thy  fotct 
like  a  trumpet,  that  thy  sons  may  hear  it ;  for  the  day  is  spprotwluif 
when  thy  sons  shall  deliver  thee,  and  then  shall  thou  see  aeaiu  tliy  &■)>•« 
bnd  l'> 

These  expressions  of  tenderness  for  the  daughter  of  the  old  oUtdMl 
chieb  of  Aquilaine.  are  followed  by  a  cry  of  malediction  against  Ite 
towns  which,  either  from  force  or  necessity,  still  adhered  to  the  king  d 
the  foreign  race. 

"  Woe  lo  the  traitors  which  are  in  Aqnilaine,  for  ilie  day  of  theirdas' 
tisement  is  at  hand !  La  Roclielle  dreads  [hat  day.  She  dnublea  iMt 
trenches,  she  girds  herself  all  round  with  the  sea.  aud  llie  nouie  of  \m 
great  works  is  heard  beyond  the  mountains,  Fly  before  Ricliani.  dote 
of  Aquiiaine,  ye  who  inhabit  the  coast!  for  he  aliall  orcrtliri'W  ihe^if" 
rious  of  the  land — he  shall  annihilate,  from  the  greatest  to  the  leasuiil 
who  deny  him  entrance  into  Saintonge  T' 

For  neariy  two  years,  tlie  Angevin  subject;  of  Henry  II.,  and  the  Aqu- 
Unian  snbjecis  of  bis  captive  qneen.  gave  battle  to  each  other ;  and  ^tm 
Koehelle  to  Bayonne,  the  dominions  of  queen  Eleanors  wen  in  a  Mh 

The  cmitemporary  chroniclers  who  beheld  this  ronieai  of  bialwl 
gainst  wife,  and  sons  against  father,  instead  of  looking  upon  ii  H  tk( 
natural  consequence  of  a  divided  rule  in  an  extended  empire,  swajal  hr 
persons  of  great  lalenL*,  who  had  received  a  cotrupl  eduoitMiii,  coot- 
dered  it  as  the  influence  of  an  evil  destiny  presiding  nrer  the  not  d 
PIsniageneL,  and  as  the  pnnishmeni  of  some  great  crime. 

Many  sinister  stories,  relating  lo  the  royal  family,  were  cumnL  ^IM 
Kleannra,  when  pursuing,  in  her  early  days,  her  guilty  raro-r  aa  ipi** 

'  Cluouia.  Bicanli  FtolavieDiu  ap.  Soripl.  Bei.  Fraae. 


SLBANORA    OP    AQUITAI.YB. 


105 


nno«,'  it  was  whispered,  h&d  been  too  intimaie  with  GeotTrey  Plaii' 

I' '.  her  husband's  hihet.    Then  the  atocy  of  Fulk  the  Red,'  (he  first 

'.  -A  Ihe  name  of  Planta^Piitit,  was  revtvetj,  and  ihe  murder  of  his 

-I'-r  ilismitaed.     Likewise,  ilie  wonderful  tale  was  reniemlterei]  of  itie 

iu:h-coanli'.M  of  Aiijou,  Henry  (l.'s  )^reat-^rand mother,  wife  to  Foulke 

Rcchm  (or  the  Qtiarrelier).     This  count,  having  observed  tlial  hie 

M*  sddom  (vent  lo  church,  (and  when  she  did, quitted  it  always  at  the 

Kiliiiii  of  the  }ioet,)  thought  proper  not  only  to  force  her  lo  maM,  but 

•de  four  of  hia  es.(uirGa  hold  her  forcibly  by  the  mantle  when  she  was 

«f«;  wh*n,  lo!  at  the  momeni  of  consecmtioD,  the  countess,  untying 

!■  mantle  1^  which  the  was  held,  left  it  in  the  hands  of  the  esquires, 

'  JjrinK  thraugb  the  window  of  the  chapel,  was  never  heard  of  more. 

t   thunder-storm  happened  at  the   moment  of  her  departure;  a 

1  Huell  of  brimstoae  remained,  which  "  no  singing  of  the  monks 

.ll.y." 

B  truth   of  lliia  marvelloils  tale  probably  ta,  that  the  countess  was 

tbv  lightning,  in  a  church  injured  by  a  iJ] under- storm. 

W  angraeions  dcscenduit,  Richard  Cisur  de  Lion,  used  to  tell  this 

t  glee,  to  his  ktiiirhls  at  Poiiou.  and  added, "  Is  it  to  be 

iili-rcd,  that  having  sprung  from  such  a  stock,  we  live  on  bad  terras 

i-nch  other  ?     From  Satan  we  sprang,  and  to  Satan  we  must  go." 

i-'lTrey  held  out  Limoges,  in  )iis  mother^s  name,  with  great  pertiiia- 

Anioiig  other  envoys  came  a  Noriuan  clerk,  holding  tlie  cross  in 

•  'laiid,  and  supplicated  Geaffrey  not  to  imitate  the  crime  of  Absalom. 

"WhatT'  said  Geoffrey. "  wouldst  thou  have  me  deprive  myself  of 

iiri>'  inli«ntnn«e  ?     It  i«  the  fate  of  our  family  that  none  shall  love  the 

tlUtiml  is  our  rightful  heritage,"  added  he,  bitterly,  '■'■  and  none  will 
tceced  in  depriving  us  of  it." 
Ing  a  conference  which  prince  Geoflrey  soon  after  had  with  htK 
in  the  marhet-place  at  Limoges,  for  the  purpose  of  discussing 
the  Aquitatiian  soldiers  and  suriporters  of  Geot^ey,  full  of  rage  at 
kl  of  the  monarch  who  kept  uieir  duchess  imprisoned,  broke  the 
by  atniiiig  from  the  castle  a  shower  of  cross-bow  shaiis  at  the 
nf  ihe  king,  one  of  which  came  so  close  as  to  shoot  his  liorse 
ii'Fiijh  tlie  eitr.  Tlie  king  prejenied  tlie  arrow  lo  Geoffrey,  saying, 
I  irtrs,  "  Tell  me,  OeoHrey,  what  has  thy  unhappy  &ther  done  to 
.  in  drsmrc  thai  tliou,  his  son,  shouldst  make  him  a  tuark  for  thins 

X'       uras  gr^tly  shocked  at  thw  accident,  of  which  he  declared 
lly  innocent.     It  was  the  outbreak  of  popular  fury  in 
's  subjects. 

1  prtnc«  Richard  and  prince  Geoffrey  were  not  combating  with 

..ber's  snbjeria,  they  employed  themselves  in  making  war  on  each 

JoBi  before  the  deatlt  of  Geoffrey,  his  brother  Ricliard  inTaded 

minions  in  BrciBgue,  with  fire  and  sword,  on  some  unaccountablr 

L  blvwD  inlo  n  lihuEe  by  the  sirveMri  of  the  troubadours.     After 

9  jMcilted,  Geoffrey  went  lo  assist  at  a  grand  toumamwit 

■  IlK>><ii<ii<n.  'iitiin.  Rui.  Fiiuw. 


I 


I 


i 

I 


I 


L 


m  KLIAKORA    OP    AQVITAIill.  ^^H 

Pari*,  where  h«  wm  flun;;  rrotn  hi*  ilcci!  in  the  roitkt  of  die  ■■Ite 
■nd  wms  irnililPH  tn  i)ml}i  brnr«lli  thc^  feel  of  ihe  eouraen.  lie  vrv 
bnrM  al  NuItc  Pnmp. 

TbiB  wui  ilic  »crunil  aon  (|U(vii  Eleanorn  had  tost  since  her  tnipri«(m> 
menii  in  (he  very  dower  uf  his  youth  and  strength.  Like  Ikia  bruthw 
Henry,  this  prinee  waa  remarkable  fcir  hin  nianly  beauty,  ui]  the  afile 
gnee  of  h)«  martial  figuie.  Hi*  death  afllirted  hi«  mother  cqiwlly  w-iih 
that  of  hrr  firvl-born  ;  for  GcnlTrey  had  been  brought  up  a  I'rovenfil. 
and  had  shown  Ikr  more  rrscnlment  for  his  inaiber''9  impnsoiuneni  t^ 
the  youtif  kiniE  Henry.  That  Eleanorn  loved  botli  with  all  a  rootlter'* 
pasiionate  teiideniMs,  we  have  the  evidene*  of  h*r  own  taasi  cloqurai 
worde.  In  one  of  her  letiera  to  the  pope,  preMrved  in  the  collectiM  of  , 
Pi^r  Bloia,  she  wyi, — 

"I'he  youngsr  king  and  the  count  of  HrrtagnP  both  skrp  in  iluti,  ' 
while  their  most  wretrlied  mother  is  comprllpd  to  liTC  on,  though  lu^  1 
ttired  by  the  irremediable  recoltectiona  of  tlie  deail.'"  ^ 

The  dislike  lluil  queen  Eletuiorv  iiiaiiifeBled  for  the  widow  of  her  MB     ', 
GeoOrey,  is  one  of  the  c  ire  urns  lances  that  Aoat  like  strawa  oa  the  stnam     k 
of  iMmmon  htslorv.  without  any  one  defining  front  whence  it  rame.   A     - 
MMnge  in  the  "  Newbury  Chrnnicle,"  hitherto  Imlc  nolircd.  cast*  aam     • 
iighl  on  this  aversion,  which  certainly  did  not  commence,  on  the  quifd't      , 
Jiart,  tdl  after  the  dnth  of  Geolfrcy.     Krom  it  we  find  that  the  miffiv- 
tunee  of  prince  Arthur  began  before  ha  birth,  and  were  Rlrenglhenod  ^ 
hia  baptism,  on  tite  29th  of  March,  1187.     The  duchess  CotulaaiB 
brouf^ht  thin  heir  of  misfortune  into  Uie  world  a  few  mouths  afker  th* 
dMih  of  his  father.     Eleaiiora.  the  cldfsi  child  of  Consiaiic«,  had  faai 
proclaimed  heiress  of  Brelagne,  but  was  disinherited  on  the  birthaf  Imt 
brother.    "  It  wnii  the  pleasure  of  king  Henry  and  queen  ^eanonlhli 
Uie  infant  should  be  named  Henry ;  but  l)ic  Bretons  rJio«e  to  lodi^ 
tikeir  natural  prejudices  in  &voiir  of  kin^  .Arthur,  whom  they  tiumU 
tlieir  countryman ;  and  as  they  liKikcd  forward  to  the  boy  as  the  posaitili 
beir  of  England,  they  insisted  on  giviitg  the  lost  descendant  of  the  At' 
morican  princea  that  favourite  name.     This  was  the  lirst  public  dtsplo- 
wire  given  by  Constance  to  the  parents  of  her  husband ;  their  cniniir 
increased  with  years." 

"  Great  scandal  arose  after  the  death  of  Geoffrey,  regsiding  the  duchw 
Conslance  and  her  brother-in-law  John  :  till  his  marriage  with  iMbtll* 
of  Angouleme,  he  wa*  constantly  'haunting  her;'  and  on  this  acciinUi 
it  is  supposed,  Henry  H..  after  the  binh  of  her  |>osihuinau8  son  Anhnr. 
forced  the  duchess  to  marry  the  earl  of  Chester,  as  prince  Jultn's  sUM- 
lions  to  his  sisler-in-law  c-nused  considerable  comment,"' 

Prince  Richard  having  got  possession  of  the  whole  of  Atguioi 
ftther  commanded  him  to  surrender  it  to  his  mother,  queen  Eleatian, 
whom  he  bad  brought  as  far  as  Normandy,  to  claim  her  rigtiL'    Tbt    i 

a  inftJW" 

liniB  vivrte  oogiiut,  ul  iitcmedisbiliicr  de  moituuruin  iiiemoHl  lorijiMasK-'  I 
S^efitul  LeuBt  ftoin  Eleaiiara  to  Pope  Celesiine.^Fuslera,  vol  I.  p.  71. 


ELEANOR& 


AQCITA  INB. 


19? 


mt  ihe  prince  rticeived  this  manrlalc,  lie  gave  up  ihe  terrilory.  and 
liMienn]  lo  Normiuiily  lo  welcome  ilie  queen,  auJ  coiigraliilaie  her  on 
her  reawration  lo  freedom. 
Tiiia  release  b  recortJed  by  (he  friend  of  the  queen,  abbot  Benedict. 
;  <rji  him  we  learn,  that,  during  the  year  1186,  Eleanora  exercised  so- 
'  11^  power  at  Bourdeaux,  and  then  resigned  it  lo  her  son  Richard, 
. '.  in  the  meantime,  had  made  his  peace  with  his  father 
Hrnry  11.  was  with  his  queen  during  this  period;  for  Benedict  declares 
that,  the  following  April,  they  sailed  from  Barfleur  to  England.    Eleanora 
WM  a«ain  put  under  some  restraint  at  Winchester  Palace,  which  ahe 
({Ditted  no  more  till  the  death  of  King  Henry,  iliree  years  afterwards. 

The  commission  of  moral  wrong  had  involved  Henry,  great  and  pow- 
eifal  as  he  was,  in  a  net,  within  whose  inextricable  folds  he  either  vainly 
itTvggted,  or  awaited  the  possibility  of  deliverance  by  the  death  of  the 
•{ueen.  If  Eleanoia  lijid  preceded  him  to  the  grave,  as  in  the  common 
courve  of  nature  might  have  been  expected,  he  would  have  sued  instantly 
(or  a  dispensation  lo  marry  the  afliaiiced  bride  of  his  son.  While  the 
qown  lived,  this  could  not  be  done  without  an  explosion  of  scandal, 
wliich  would  have  dishonoured  him  in  the  eyes  of  all  Europe.  Henry 
had  only  two  alternatives;  either  to  permit  his  heir  to  marry  the  princess 
Aticr,  or  to  shorten  the  life  of  the  queen  Eleanora  by  violent  means. 
Allbongh  his  principles  were  not  sufficiently  linn  to  resist  indulgence  in 
rnilt,  he  was  not  depraved  enough  to  commit  deliberately  either  atrocity. 
bo  lime  wore  uneasily  on,  till  prince  Richard  attained  the  age  of  thirty- 
(bar.  and  -Alice  that  of  thirty ;  while  the  king  still  invented  futile  ez- 
ts,  to  keep  his  son  in  this  miserable  state  of  entanglement,  wherein 
'uutd  could  neither  free  himself  from  Alice,  nor  give  hia  hand  to  any 
'f  bride.  Yet  Richard,  to  further  his  own  ends,  made  the  brother 
e  believe  thai  he  was  willing  to  complete  his  engagement. 

the  wish  of  Uenry  11.  to  crown  his  son  John  king  of  Biig- 

g  his  lifetime,  and  to  give  Richard  all  his  dominions  that  lay 

d  the  English  sea.    Richard  was  not  content ;  he  came  to  the  king 

mee,  and  cried  for  aid,  saving,  'Sire,  for  God's  sake  sufier  me  not 

■  disinheriietl  thus  by  my  sire.     I  am  engaged  to  your  sister  Alice, 

koughl  by  right  to  be  my  wife.     Help  me  lo  maintain  my  rights  and 

e  king  of  France,  al\er  vainly  aeeking  for  explanation  of  the  reason 
f  bis  sister  was  not  married  to  her  betrothed,  made,  with  prince 
1  appeal  ti>  arms.     Kmg  Philip  contrived  lo  induce  prince 
John  lo  join  in  the  rebellion.    When  Henry  heard  that  this  idolized  child 
of  hit  old  age  had  followed  the  insurgent  example  nf  his  brethren,  he 
r  himself  into  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  and  invoked  the  bitterest  curses 
id,  and  that  of  prince  Richard ;  he  cursed  the  day  of  his  own 
I,  after  giving  orders  to  his  painter  at  Windsor,  lo  paint  a  de- 
f  a  young  eaglet  pecking  out  the  eyes  of  an  eagle,  as  a  reproach 
cr  J  >hn,lie  set  out  for  the  continent  in  an  agonized  slate  of  mind, 
r  waippg,  for  the  first  lime  in  his  life,  an  uiisuccessful  war,  king 

litoi'i  Chroit. 


I 
I 


B«nin:.l  le  Tm 


J 


I 


) 


L 


19B  BLEANORA    OF    AQUITAtNR. 

Henry  agreed  to  meet  his  eon  Richard  and  the  king  of  France  at  Te 
xalai. 

Ab  the  king  was  on  his  progress  to  thi«  con^ss,  he  fell  ill  at  Ctucua, 
after  indulging  in  one  of  his  fits  of  violent  passion.'  Finding  that  bii 
life  was  departing,  he  caused  himself  to  be  carried  before  the  high  tllv 
of  the  cathedral,  where  he  expired  in  the  supporting  arms  of  Ceo&tj 
the  youngest  eon  of  Itosaoiond,  who  was  the  only  one  of  hts  chililrat 
from  whom  be  received  Ulial  attention  in  his  la^i  moments.  Before  ht 
died)  he  spoke  earnestly  to  his  son,  and  eave  him  a  ring  of  great  nlns 
then  laying  his  head  on  the  bosom  of  Geodrey,'  hia  spiiit  depmUii 
leaving  his  features  siill  convulsed  with  the  agony  of  roge,  which  twl 
hastened  his  end. 

When  the  news  was  brought  to  Richard,  thai  the  crown  of  En^ud 
had  devolved  upon  him  by  the  sudden  death  of  his  lather,  he  wu  Ua 
with  remorse  and  regret  He  went  to  meet  (he  royal  corpse  at  Fool^ 
vraud,  the  place  of  interment  pointed  out  by  the  will  of  (he  decOMJ 
monarch. 

King  Henry,  when  he  was  carried  forth  to  be  buried,  was  Grsi  apt*' 
reted  m  bts  princely  robes,  having  his  crown  on  his  head,  gloves  oa  oil 
hands,  and  shoes  on  his  feet,  wrought  with  gold^  spurs  on  his  hedi.i 
ring  of  gold  on  his  finger,  a  sceptre  in  his  hand,  his  sword  by  hii  sidh 
and  hia  face  uncovered.  But  ihis  regalia  was  of  a  strsnge  nature;  in 
the  corpse  of  Ueury,  like  that  of  the  Conqueror,  had  been  strippod  tti 
plundered ;  and  when  those  who  were  charged  witli  t)ie  fiiiiti^  d^ 
manded  the  ornaments  in  which  Henry  was  to  lie  in  state,  the  Ireunm, 
as  a  favour,  sent  a  ring  of  little  value,  and  an  old  sceptre.  As  brikt 
crown  with  which  the  warlike  brow  of  Henry  was  encircled,  it  wattV 
the  gold  fringe  from  a  lady's  petticoat,  torn  ofl'for  the  occasion',  aodn 
this  odd  attire,  the  gresiesi  moiuu-ch  in  the  world  went  down  to  tuf  hV 

Thos  he  was  conveyed  to  the  abbey  of  Fonlevraud,  where  fa*  lif 
with  his  lace  uncovered,  showing,  by  the  conliaclion  of  his  fealum,  iw 
Tiolenl  rage  in  which  he  departed.  When  Richard  entered  the  ■bbor  ht 
shuddered,  and  prayed  some  moments  before  the  altar,  when  the  oom 
and  mouth  of  his  father  began  to  bleed  so  profusely,  that  ilie  monk  in 
attendance  kepi  incessandy  wiping  the  blood  from  his  face.  Ricbsnl 
testified  the  most  poignant  remorse  at  this  sight.  He  wept  bilieilyi  ind> 
prostrating  himself,  pmyed  earoesily,  under  the  tningled  stimulus  of 
grief  and  superstition,  and  then,  rising,  he  departed,  and  lookadoelb* 
face  of  his  sire  no  more.* 

Henry  died  July  flth,  I  IBS. 

The  first  step  taken  by  Richard  I.,  on  his  accession  to  the  En^ifc 
crown,  was  to  order  his  mother's  release  from  her  consinitaed  irtiitwiB 
at  Winchester  Palace.  From  a  captive,  queen  Eleanors  in  one  maoMI 
became  a  sovereign;  for  the  reins  of  the  Iijtglish  goveranmit  nf* 
placed  in  her  hands,  at  the  time  of  her  release.  She  made  a  noUt  W* 
it  her  authority,  according  to  a  manuscript  cited  by  Tyrrell- 

'  Wliirh  Rrompnn  declares  wu  ilie  immediate  onuie  of  dMUk 

'Lord  Lrllleun.  'Jtogei  WendoTU.  , 

■Count  Ttiierr)-,  fniiD  Nonoan  Chiomclei.  ^^1 


JiLBAHOEA    OF    AQUITAINB.  190 

^  Elfianom  of  Gnienne,  directly  she  was  liberated  from  her  restraint 
t  Winchester,  was  invested  with  full  powers  as  regent,  which  she  most 
eoeficially  exercised,  going  in  person  from  city  to  city,  setting  free  all 
lose  confined  under  the  Norman  game-laws,  which  in  the  latter  part  of 
feniy's  life  were  cruelly  enforced.  When  she  released  prisoners,  it  was 
n  cooidition  that  they  prayed  for  the  soul  of  her  late  husband.  She 
kewise  declared  she  took  this  measure  for  the  benefit  of  his  soul." 

Her  eon  bad  given  her  full  power,  but,  to  her  great  honour,  she  did 
ot  nee  it,  against  those  who  had  been  lier  gaolers  or  enemies.  Her 
B^ency  was  entirely  spent  in  acts  of  mercy  and  wisdom,  and  her  dis- 
rimioating  acumen  in  the  prisoners  she  liberated  may  be  judged  by  the 
blowing  list 

Sho  liberated  fully— ^  All  confined  for  breach  of  forest  laws,  who 
accused  of  no  further  crime.    All  who  were  outlawed  for  the 
die  invited  back  to  their  homes  and  families.    All  who  had  been 
by  the  king's  arbitrary  commands,  and  were  not  accused  by  their 
oadred  or  county,  she  set  free." 

^  But  all  male&ctors  accused  on  good  and  lawful  evidence  were  to  be 
apt  in  prison,  without  bail." 

When  we  consider  Eleanora  going  from  city  to  city,  examining  thus 
ito  the  wrongs  of  a  government  that  had  become  arbitrary,  and  seeing 
oMice  done  to  the  lowest,  we  are  apt  to  think  that  her  imprisonment 
ad  impioved  her  disposition. 

The  queen-regent  next  ordained  that  ^  every  freeman  of  the  whole 
wdom  should  swear  that  he  would  bear  faith  to  his  lord,  Richard,  son 
fking  Henry  and  queen  Eleanora,  for  the  preservation  of  life,  limbs, 
ad  tenene  honour,  as  his  liege  lord,  against  all  living ;  and  that  he 
ponld  be  obedient  to  bis  laws,  and  assist  him  in  the  preservation  of 
eaoe  and  justice."  ^ 

Eleanora  showed  so  little  distaste  to  the  Winchester  Palace,  that  she 
Murned  thitlier  af^  her  justiciary  progress,  to  await  the  arrival  of  her 
OB  from  the  coast  of  Normandy. 

h  appears  that  king  Richard,  when  he  gave  commands  for  his  mother's 
deaae,  ordered  her  castellan,  the  keeper  of  the  treasure-vault  at  Win- 
hester,  Ranulph  de  Glanville,  to  be  thrown  into  a  dungeon  in  Winches- 
!r  Ckitle,  and  loaded  with  fetters  weighing  a  thousand  pounds.' 

Our  ancient  chroniclers,  when  labouring  to  reconcile  the  prophecies 
f  Merlin  with  the  events  of  English  history,  while  hunting  after  the 
npoesible,  very  often  start  some  particulars  which  would  otherwise 
ave  slept  shrouded  in  the  dust  of  the  mve.  Thus,  speaking  of  the 
beiatioii  of  Eleanora  of  Aquitaine  by  her  son,  Richard  1.,  Matthew 
luis  nys  she  is  designated,  by  Merlin's  sentence,  Jlquila  ruptifaderis 
ffrid  nidijicaiian$  gmidehU ;  ^  The  destructive  eagle  shall  rejoice  in  her 
aid  nestling." — ^  Eleanora,"  pursues  Matthew,  ^  is  the  eagle,  for  she 

'This  i»  tbo  first  o«th  of  allegiance  ever  taken  in  England  to  an  uncrowned 

lag. 

•Tjrrell,  to  whose  most  learned  and  indefatigable  reteaivh  the  elucidation  Oi 

liny  dark  paasagea  of  Eleanora'i  life  is  owing. 


I 

I 


I 


I 


1300  ELEANORA    QF    AQUITAtKS. 

i![ir«Bds  her  wings  over  two  nations,  Englnnil  «nH  Aqnitaine;  tltcby 
reason  of  her  erctisive  henuty,  she  ilealrojed  or  injured  nation*.  Shi 
was  sepsraied  from  the  king  of  France  by  rcaHon  of  conmn^inily,  ml 
from  (be  king  of  England  by  divorce  upon  iuspicum,  and  kept  in  otat 
confinement.  She  rejoiced  in  her  third  nestling,  since  Richard,  bir 
third  Bon,  honoured  her  with  all  reverence  after  re1ea.sing  ber  htm 
prison." 

If  Mnlltiew  would  imply  thai  Henry  confined  Eleanom  for  imprO]»ien'     } 
of  conduct,  he  id  not  supported  by  other  aulhom.  ' 

Kini»  Richard  I.  landed  at  Portsmouth,  Angnst  the  1 2th,  1 1 89.  Thnt 
days  aAer,  he  arrived  at  his  mother's  court  at  Winchester,  where  his  fat 
rare  was  directed  to  his  father's  treasure.  Afier  he  had  conrened  wiA 
his  mother,  he  ordered  before  him  Ranulph  dc  Glanville^  who  gtn  Ub 
80  good  an  account  of  the  secrets  of  the  Winchester  traasnrMwh, 
that  he  set  him  at  liberty,  and  ever  afler  treated  him  witli  cotifidMtt. 
Either  Rnnulph  de  Glanville  had  behaved  lo  the  queen,  when  hu  pi> 
soner,  with  all  possible  respeci,  or  Eleanora  was  of  a  very  m^naniaoM 
disposition,  and  forbore  prejudicing  her  son  against  her  late  fiwitthni 
Glanville  gave  up  to  the  king  the  enormous  sum  of  nine  hundred  ikM 
s&nd  pounds,  besides  valuable  jewels.  At  his  first  seizure,  only  IP04N 
marks  were  found  in  the  treasure-vault,  which,  it  seems,  posaeaaed  MM 
intricacies  only  known  lo  Glanville.' 

The  king's  neit  care  was  to  settle  the  revenue  of  the  mother  Im« 
passionately  loved,  and  whose  wrongs  he  had  so  fiercely  resentert.  Hv 
dower  was  rendered  equal  to  those  of  the  queens  Matilda  AthdiqgMl 
Hatilda  of  Boulogne. 

The  king's  coronation  took  place  on  the  3d  of  September,  1189.  ii 
the  etiquette  of  the  queen- mother's  recent  widowhood  prevented  Int 
from  sharing  in  this  splendid  festival,  all  women  were  forbidden  toll 
present  at  its  celebration.  The  chroniclers  declare  that  Richard  ImmJ 
a  proclamation  the  day  before,  debarring  all  women'  and  Jews  frn 
entering  the  precincts  of  Westminster  Abbey,  at  the  lime  of  bis  iongB- 
ntion  ; — a  classification  of  persons  greatly  impugning  the  gallanUy  </ 
the  lion-hearted  king,  when  we  remember  the  odium  atlached  to  ibt 
name  of  a  Jew. 

The  Proven^l  alliance  had  produced  a  prodigions  influx  of  this  ih>- 
rious  lace  into  England.     As  they  enjoyeil  iiigh  privileges  m  tha  htn- 

'Hoveden.  Brarnptoo.  Tyrrell.  Psru.  The  tingulai  cmpiiijsaBiu  of  mt- 
like  bnroDS  si  jui'iiciaHE'i,  aiul  ihe  combinuion  or  llie  officPt  of  grnMal  mt 
of  lawyer  in  on*  man,  arc  strange  feaiurej  in  Ihe  Normnn  an't  Aagvrin  4ial 
nation  in  England.  Thii  Ranu!|ih  de  Glanville  la  an  instance  ;  lie  waa  Honji 
great  geneial,  who  dereated  and  took  prisoner  William  the  Lion  at  SmitiBt,  ta 
tie  is  only  known  to  aiu  fenilemen  of  the  bnl  aa  (he  author  of  ■■  GtamilW'*  ^ 
nilnlei  i"  this  ateel-ctad  benin  being  die  first  who  redooed  the  law*  «t  ~  '  ' 
!0  ■  wrillen  code.  To  make  the  conlnul  with  modern  dmee 
pt»t  legalist  died  ctmading,  having,  either  (o  please  Ocui  de 
lot  hia  >in>,  both  as  lawyer  anil  general,  taken  up  (he  croca,  for  the 
'ntiling  'Mahoun  and  TerRiBgiunt." 

'Hoveilen.    Biompion.    M.  Paris.    He  lail  says,  all  womaq  flf  tarf < 


XLBANOKA    OF    AQUITAINB.  901 

Eiy  dddiinions  of  qneen  Eleanora,  they  supposed  they  were  secure 
der  her  son's  ffoverament  Believing  money  would  buy  a  place  every- 
lere,  they  flocked  to  tlie  abbey,  bearing  a  rich  present,  but  the  popu- 
«  set  upon  them  and  slaughtered  them,  being  excited  to  a  religious 
inia  by  the  preaching  of  the  crusade.  The  massacre  of  these  unfor- 
oate  money-brokers  was  not  perpetrated  with  the  connivance  of  either 
nir  Richard  or  the  queen-mother,  since  Brompton  expressly  declares 
It  tlie  ringleaders  were,  by  the  king's  orders,  tried  and  put  to  death. 
Alice,  the  long-betrothed  bnde  of  Richard,  was  neither  married  nor 
owned.  On  the  contrary,  she  was  committed  to  the  same  species  of 
•traint,  by  tlie  orders  of  the  queen,  in  which  she  herself  had  been  so 
ng  held  captive.  The  princess  Alice  had  been  twenty-two  years  with- 
II  leaving  England ;  and  as  she  was  the  only  person  on  whom  Eleanora 
taliated  any  part  of  her  wrongs,  the  inference  must  be  drawn,  tliat  she 
msidered  Alice  as  the  cause  of  them. 

Eleanora  departed  for  Aquitaine  as  soon  as  her  son  had  settled  her 
ngiish  dower,  and  Richard  embarked  at  Dover,  for  Calais,  to  join  the 
iMule,  taking  with  him  but  ten  ships  from  the  English  ports.  His 
oops  were  disembarked,  and  he  marched  across  France,  to  his  mother^s 
ominions,  where  he  formally  resigned  to  her  the  power  he  had  exer- 
ised,  during  his  father's  lifetime,  as  her  deputy.  Richard  appointed  the 
indezvous  of  the  crusade  at  Messina,  and,  directing  his  mother  to  meet 
im  there,  he  set  sail  from  Marseilles,  for  Sicily ;  while  Eleanora  under- 
lok  a  journey  to  Navarre,  to  claim  for  him  the  hand  of  Berengaria,  the 
inghter  of  king  Sancho. 

Richard  had  much  to  effect  at  Messina,  before  he  commenced  the  cru- 
ide.  Before  he  stnick  a  blow  for  Christendom,  he  was  obliged  to  right 
le  wrongs  of  his  sister  Joanna,  queen  of  Sicily,  the  youngest  daughter 
f  Deanora  and  Henry  II.  William  the  Good,  through  the  recom- 
lendations  of  Peter  of  Blois,  (who  had  formerly  been  his  tutor,)  asked 
le  liand  of  Joanna  Plantagenet  of  her  father.  The  Sicilian  ambassador 
rmnted  Joanna  an  immense  dower;  but  when  the  aged  bridegroom 
mnd  that  his  young  queen  was  still  more  beautiful  and  sweet-tempered 
lan  her  father's  chaplain,  Peter,  had  set  forth,  he  greatly  augmented  her 
ower.  The  king  of  Sicily  died  childless,  leaving  his  young  widow 
reat  legacies  in  his  will. 

King  Tancred  robbed  her  of  these,  and  of  her  dower :  and,  to  pre- 
mt  her  complaints,  encloseil  her  in  prison  at  Messina.  It  was  this 
ntrage  Richard  hastened  there  to  redress.  But  the  list  of  gooils  the 
ir  widow  directed  her  brother  to  claim  of  Tancred,  could  surely  have 
nly  existed  in  a  catalogue  of  Aladdin's  household  furniture : — an  arm 
\imt  of  solid  gold ;'  footstools  of  gold ;  a  table  of  the  same  with  tres- 
iU,  twelve  feet  long ;  besides  unis  and  vases  of  the  same  precious 
letal.  These  reasonable  demands  were  enforced  by  the  arm  of  the 
iighty  Richard,  who  was  as  obstinate  and  wilful  as  Achilles  himself. 

'  HoTeden  and  Vinisanf ;  likewise  Piors  of  Langtoft,  who  mentions  many  other 
iriotu  artiolet. 


ELEANOK.\ 


AQ  r  t  TAIN  K. 


TaDCred  deserves  piiT.  when  we  comtiiler  die  eztnionlinary  lulurt  o( 
tlic  legacy.  However,  he  compounded  lur  tlower  and  leirnry  si  lul. 
wilh  the  enomous  tiaymenl  of  40,000  ounces  of  gold.  Tins 'liwiurt, 
with  the  royal  widow  herself,  were  consigned  lo  Richard  fonhaiib. 
Thus  was  a  companion  provided  for  Richanl's  expected  bride,  iht  ele- 
gant and  refined  Beren^ria,  who,  under  the  conduct  of  Eleanora  at 
Aquitaine,  wae  daily  expected. 

Richard  was  so  well  pleased  wilh  the  restoration  of  hi*  st«ter  and  Ko 
treasures,  that  he  asked  Tancred's  daughter  in  marriage  for  his  iha 
acknowledged  heir,  Arthur  of  Brelagne.' 

During  this  negotiation  Eleanors  arrived  in  Measina,'  bringing  •iili 
Iter  tlie  long-beloved  Berengaria.  Although  il  was  long  since  Eleiaon 
had  seen  her  daughter  Joanna,  she  (arried  but  four  days  in  her  compuf, 
and  then  sailed  for  Rome.  There  is  reason  to  suppose  thai  her  emnd 
was  lo  sellle  a  dispute  which  bad  arisen  between  king  Richard  and  hit 
half- brother  Geoflrey,  the  »on  of  Rosamond,  whom  the  king  twl 
appointed  archbishop  of  York,  according  lo  his  &  therms  dying  rei|Uf9i< 
bul  had  retiuired  an  enormous  sum  from  the  revennes  of  llie  arrhbisb- 
opiic'  Queen  Eleanora  returned  to  England,*  with  her  friend  the  wtii- 
bishop  of  Rouen ;  he  was  eoon  after  appointed  its  governor,  in  plan  of 
Longchamp,  who  had  convuWd  the  country  by  his  follies. 

We  have  seen  Eleanora  taken  from  captivity  by  her  son  Richard,  m) 
invested  with  the  high  authority  of  queen-regeni :  there  is  no  rcasoa  w 
suppose  thai  ihol  autlioriiy  was  ravoked ;  for)  in  every  emergency  (ivtwf 
the  king's  absence,  she  appears  as  the  guiding  power.  For  this  purpow 
Kite  abseiiied  Imrseir  from  Aquilaine.  whose  government  she  plnrel  id 
the  hands  of  a  deputy,  lier  grandson  Olho  of  Saxony  ;*  and  at  ihn  cii' 
of  the  reign  of  Cteur  de  Lion,  we  liud  her,  according  to  the  wiwh 
of  Matthew  Paris,  "■  governing  England  will)  great  wisdom  and  pop>- 
loriiy." 

Queen  Eleanora,  when  thus  arduously  engaged  in  watching  over  tlx 
'  itereais  of  her  best-beloved  son,  was  approacliiiig  ber  seventieth  y«f— 
a  age  when  rent  is  imperiously  demanded  by  the  human  frame.  Bm 
''  oil  still  remained  before  her.  ere  death  closed  her  wrarr  pil- 
grimage in  1'2U4 ;  and  these  years  were  laden  with  sorrows,  which  if* 
from  her  lliat  palhetic  alteration  of  ihe  regal  style,  preserved  in  herlrtto 
lo  the  pope,  on  occasion  of  ihe  captivity  of  Ccenr  de  Lion,  where  >bt 
declares  herself — 

■■  Blnuiora,*  bj-  Uie  wntb  of  God,  queea  of  Englauct' 

Nul  only  in  this  instance,  but  in  several  others,  traits  of  the  sobduM 
spirit  of  Cleanom  are  to  be  discitvered  ;  for  the  extreme  mobility  of  he 
spirilB  didiised  tuelf  even  over  the  cold  records  of  stal».  when  in  biua 


'Tlie  tlocuKiitnl 

■  pertnitiing  lo  this  oonlnitl  prove  lli*t  Anhut  wa»  ili™n»* 

dered.  t>r  hi*  un<; 

le,  lu  die  heii  of  Kbglimd.— Ficdera,  vol.  i. 

•.<«edig«u:OK. 

Lliiig  memoir,                 'Rapin,  vol.  i.  24ti.                 •SpMil.lll 

•Tr"«ii. 

•  Pf^iei  of  Bloii**  KfMiti 

VLVANOBA    OF    AQVITAINE. 


203 


grief  she  subsGribes  herself,  ^in  ira  Dei  Regina  Anglorum,"  and  ^iElie- 
son  misera  et  utinam  miserabilis  Anglorum  Regina.^'  When  swayed 
bf  calmer  feelings,  she  styles  herself  ^^^ienora,  by  the  grace  of  Ood, 
Imblif  queen  oT England."^ 

Eleanom  of  Aquitaine  is  among  the  very  few  wonen  who  have  atoned 
for  in  ill-spent  youth,  by  a  wise  and  benevolent  old  age.  As  a  sove- 
logD,  she  ranks  among  the  greatest  of  female  rulers.' 

>R]rmer,  vol.  L 

*To  prevent  repetition,  the  rest  of  >ier  life  is  ootnprehended  in  the  memoirs 
if  Wr  daughters-in-law,  fierengaria  and  Isabella. 


IVD   OF   TOL.   I 


LIVES 


or  TBI 


lUEENS  OF  ENGLAND, 


fMK 


THE  NORMAN  CONQUEST; 


WITH 


ANECDOTES  OF  THEIR  COURTS, 

ROW  naST  PUBLISHED  FBOM 

fP'ClAL  RECORDS  AND  OTHER  AUTHENTIC  DOCHMENTSt 
PRIVATE  AS  WELL  AS  PUBLIC. 


ilCW  EDITION,  WITH  CORRECTIONS  AND  ADOITIOKJ. 


BT 

AGNES  STRICKLAND. 


The  trMMUW  of  aatiqaily  Wd  ip 
IB  old  liMono  roUs.IoptMd. 

BtAOHoirr 


VOL.  11.  i 


PHILADELPHIA: 

BLANCHARD    AND    LEA 

lSo2. 


Fno(dd  bf  T.  X 


CONTENTS 


or  TBI 


SECOND  VOLUME. 


BesENGARijt  OP  Navarre,  Queen  of  Richard  I Pags    0 

"ABELiA  o>  Anuoulrme,  Qucen  of  King  John 28 

UKANOB  ^F  Provence,  surnamed  la  Belle,  Queen  of  Henry  III.     46 

CLdpter  II 64 

^KVNORA  OF  Castille,  sumamed  the  Faithful,  First  Queen  of 

Edward  I 05J 

^^•^'JiERiTE  OF  France,  Second  Queen  of  Edward  1 109 

'**»ELu  OF  France,  surnamed  the  Fair,  Queen  of  Edward  II.  122 

Chapter  II 142 

'^'^'LIPPA  OF  IIainault,  Queeu  of  Edward  III 173 

Chaptei  II 187 

*^^'s  op  Bohemia,  surnamed  the  Good,  First  Queen  of  Richard 

n. 206 


(7) 


BERENGAKIA  OF  NAVARRE, 

QUEEN    OF    RICHARD  1. 


■of  Borengaria  and  Riohard — Berengnria'B  dcKenl^ — Beranga- 
1d  niBtriage — TraielB  wiih  quei^n  FJcanora — Wails  Willi  Iiir  at 
ligned  lo  queen  Joanua — Emboili!  far  Palesline  witli  ber — Storm 
of  Bernigaria — Berengaria  lam) *— Nuptial •  at  Typnn — Costume  of 
retiffarj^-^rownfld  qufl«n  of  England  and  Cypni* — -Beri^ni^aria  aaila 
IDB — Reoeirnl  bf  king  PbilipalAore — Her  resklenco  tbers — Beim- 
Unlmrka  with  Joanaa — Richard  ahipwreoked — Iinpii«on«l — Berengaria 
e— Queen*  eworted  by  count  Raymond  Si.  GillBB — Queeo  Joanua  mar- 
him — Misfonunea  of  king  Ricliard — Eieano™'»  n-genry— Betcngaria 
IlircapliTcCj^riol — Bcrengaria'i  brother — Queeii-molher  returns  vilh 
I  to  England — Berengaria  furiMiken — Richard'i  peoiiencc — Bemngaria'i 
«— Putlowi  Richard  to  war— Devotoil  loTe — King*  deaili — Death  of 
]»innB — Bcrenfsria's  dowor — Her  peouniary  iroublea — Bujlda  abbey 
in— Bee  idea  there — Dips  there— Buried— E^gy—Characler. 

IRARIA,  the  beButiftil  daughter  of  Saneho  ilie  Wise,  king  of  Nu- 
ts firei  seen  by  Richard  Ctcur  de  Lion,  when  count  of  Poiiou.' 
d  louniaiiipiit  given  by  her  gallant  brother  at  Painpekinu,  her 
,ly.     Richard  was  then  captivated  by  the  beauty  of  Berengaria, 

eiigngemeni  lo  the  fair  and  frail  Alice  of  France  prevented  hint 

irritig  her  hla  hand. 

igBtia  may  be  cunsidcrcd  a  Provencal  princess,  by  language  and 

n,  though  she  was  Spanish  by  descent.    Her  miglily  aire.  Sanclio 

h  had  fur  hia  immediate  ancestor  Saneho  the  Great,  called  the 
of  all  Spain.  He  inherited  the  little  kingdom  of  Navarre,  and 
Besirice,  daughter  to  Alphonso,  king  of  CaslUle,  by  wham  he 
B  children,  Berengaria,  Blanche,  and  one  son,  Saneho,  surnamed 
ag\  a  hero  celebrated  by  the  Proveni;al  poets  fur  his  gallant 
■gaiiiBi  the  Moor^;  he  defeaieil  the  Miramolin,  and  broke,  with 

iMxe,'  the  chains  that  guarded  the  camp  of  the  infidel,  which 
'ere  aTteruanls  transferred  to  the  armorial  bearings  of  Navarre, 
dent  friendship  had  subsisted,  from  bnyhood,  between  Richard 
iho  the  Strong,  the  gallant  brother  of  Berengaria.  A  sitnilarity 
ita  sirengiliene<l  the  intimnry  of  Richard  with  the  royal  family 
rre.     The  father  and  brother  of  Berengaria  were  celebrated  (or 

11  and  judgment  in  Provencal  poetry.'  Berengaria  was  herself 
princess;  and  Riehsnl,  who  was  not  only  a  troubadour-poet, 
■ting  aoTercign  of  Aquiiaine,  was  the  prince  and  judge  of  a" 


■  >  r  Aquioiue.  vol.  i. 

*  Chronicle  of  Navarro  I 


I 


10  SEIt  B?40AR1A    OP    N  A  V  A  B  S  B.  I 

IrDnbadours,  liri-nine  natiinilly  drawn  into  dose  linmls  of  amity  itidi  i 
Gunily,  wliO!>e  usies  and  pursuiu  were  similar  to  his  awn. 

No  one  can  marvel  that  the  love  of  itie  anient  Richard  shouU  be 
sirenglhened,  wlien  he  met  the  beautiful,  the  culliraled,  and  Tinuoui 
BereDgaria,  in  iha  lainiliar  intercourse  which  sprang  from  hia  frienJohip 
with  her  gallant  brother;'  but  a  long  and  secret  en^^^nienl,  rrplnt 
with  ■•  hope  delerrcd."  was  the  fate  of  Richard  the  Lion-hcaned  ami  the 
lair  flower  of  Navarre. 

Our  early  historians  first  mention  the  attachment  of  Ricliard  and  B(- 
ten^ria,  about  the  year  1 177.  If  we  take  that  rvent  for  a  datum,  ern 
allowing  the  prinrcss  to  have  been  very  young  when  she  aliracttd  in 
lore  of  Itlehani,  she  mui'l  have  been  twenly-i<ix,  at  leant,  (Mfore  dit 
death  of  his  father  placed  him  at  liberty  to  ileinniid  her  luind.  Richtnt 
had  another  motive  for  his  extreme  deaire  for  thia  alliance ;  ht  cosn- 
dered  lliat  hia  beloved  m'>ilier,  queen  Eleanora.  was  deeply  indebted  to 
kin^  Sancho.  the  fiilher  of  Bereiigaria.  bocaUM  ho  had  pleaded  hercMK 
with  Henry  II..  and  obtained  aomp  ameliomiion  of  her  impriHonnifliL 

Soon  afier  Rirliard  ascended  the  English  throne,  he  ?ent  hi*  mother, 
qtieen  Eieanora,  to  tlie  court  of  her  friend,  Sancho  the  ft'ise,  to  demud 
the  princess  Berengaria  in  marriage  \  "*  for,'*'  aaya  VinisauT,  ■"  he  had  la>{ 
lo»«l  [he  elegant  girl."  Sancho  the  Wise  not  only  received  the  propo- 
sition with  joy,  but  CDtrusted  Berengaria  to  the  care  of  queen  ElouuA 
The  royal  ladies  travelled  from  the  court  of  Navarre  togMher,  acM* 
Italy,  to  Naples,  where  tliey  found  the  ships  beUm^ng  to  D>-anon  twl 
Brrived  in  the  bay.  Btil  etiquette  forbade  Berengaria  to  appreaeh  btt 
lo*er  till  he  was  free  fiom  Uie  claims  of  .\lice;  therefore  she  snjoiinid 
with  (jtieen  Eieanora  at  Brindisi,  tn  the  spring  of  1 191,  wajliog  tbt 
message  from  king  Richard,  announcing  that  he  wa«  free  to  receive  Iht 
hand  of  the  princesa  of  Navarre. 

It  was  at  Messina  that  the  question  of  the  engagement  belwwa  At 
princes!!  Alice  and  the  king  of  Enghinil  was  dehateiTwith  Philip  Align*- 
tus,  her  brotlier ;  and  more  ilian  once,  the  pntenlntea  assembled  for  ibt 
cniMde,  expected  that  the  forces  of  France  and  England  would  be  o«M 
,  to  decide  the  right  of  king  Kirfiard  to  give  hia  hand  taM 
other  lady  than  the  stisier  of  the  king  of  pTance. 

The  rhymes  of  Piers  of  Langtotl  recapitulate  these  e*enU  will 
«nd  quaintness ; — 


I  Piiiiip, 

And   in  grisf  said, 

'My  rtrter  Alice 
b  raw  fonaken. 

Since  one  of  mote  riebe* 
or  Navarro  luut  ibciu  takon.' 

Wlmn  kiiiB  EicbHtd  unilc/MOod 
Whai  king  Philip  had  (WDm, 

Belhrp  clprgj-  he  ttood, 
And  prOTBiI  on  that  n»tn. 


TIlBI 


Alice  to  Ilia 
h  hi(  lira  king 


DOW  and   U  I*. 


B  Huxr 

W«i* 

--1 


III*  nephew,  ihe  inubailoui  now  .    _     . 

ilanchc.  [lis  grounder  oMCr  at  BrrenciriB.  «M«,  wah  AawkalW 
OM  iDtimale  iiirni]  of  ftieoitiliip.  being  fratnt  jmnA,  «rM^ 
Buslum  uf  Ilio  chivolik  ii« 


■  BKEKOAttIA     OP     NAVARRE.  11 

J  Philip  contonded  ihnl  Rirhnrd  hclil  in  liand  his  siswr's  dower, 
ij  niy  of  Giiora.     Upon  iliis,  ilie  king  of  Eiiglniid  brought  ihe 
B  lo  s  coDcluaioD,  in  these  words : — 


WW.'  «1.)  kFnK  Richard. 

1 

Bf  foro  wilneas  nt  sighl. 

(Or  clerk  and  eke  hnion,) 

br  iboa  <li>ll  liBK  ward 

Hi«  fiatirr  he  miglil  miinj. 

or  GlKini  Uiy  v>i^, 

Wherever  Goil  miidil  like, 

kn<l  ireaaate  ilk  n  dpn),' 

And,  w  moke  cpiioinijr. 

BicbBTd  yisiaed  liim  l<i> 

riphl, 

Riuhatd  a  quiHancc  look." 

U*  irMuDn  and  big  !□«□, 

M  French  contemporary  chroniclers,  who  are  exceedingly  indignant 
Id  rrpodiaiioa  of  their  princess,  sllribuie  it  sniely  to  Eleanora's  influ- 
net.  Bernard,  ilie  Treasurer,  sayB,  "  The  old  queen  could  not  endtrrc 
ilui  Rirhnrd  should  espouse  Alice,  but  demanded  the  sister  of  the  king 
uf  Novarre  for  a  wife  for  her  son.  At  tliis  the  king  of  Navarre  was 
njtlit  joyful,  and  she  irsveljed  wilh  queen  Klcaiiura  to  Messina.  When 
tl»  srrived  Richard  was  absent,  hui  queen  Joanna  was  tliere,  preparing 
hfiBejr  to  embark  next  day.  The  queen  of  England  eoiild  not  tnrry^ 
boi  said  to  Joanna — >  Fair  daughter,  take  this  damsel  Tor  ine  to  the  king 
^■r  brother,  and  lell  him  1  command  him  to  espouse  her  speedily.' 
^■u  received  her  willingly,  and  Eleanors  returned  to  France.^' ' 
^■pn  of  Ungtofl  resumes  :— 

^H         -She  be  leA  Berengere,        I       Queen  Joanne  held  her  denr^ 
^H  At  Richard's  Botutge,         |       I'Lpy  lived  as  dovca  in  tnge." 

^Hbg  Richard  and  king  Tancred  were  absent  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the 
^Hm  of  Sl  Agatha,  at  Catania,  where  Tancred  must  have  devoutly 
■nyed  for  the  riddance  of  his  guest,  Richard  here  presented  the  Sci- 
liin  king  with  a  famous  sword,  pretending  it  was  Calibum,  the  brand  of 
king  Arthur,  lately  found  at  Glitstonbury,  during  his  falher^s  antiquariaa 
retiairches  for  iJie  tomb  of  that  king. 

Rictiard  then  embarked  in  his  favourite  galley,  named  by  him  Trenc- 
ihe-mcre,'  lie  had  previously,  in  honour  of  his  bctrothment,  instituted 
ID  order  of  twenty-four  kiiighta,  who  pledged  tliemselves  in  a  frnteruity 
»-ith  the  king,  lo  senle  the  walls  of  Acre ;  and  that  they  might  be  known 
in  tlie  storming  of  iliat  city,  ilie  king  appointed  ibem  to  wear  a  blue 
band  of  lenilier  on  itie  led  leg,  from  which  ihey  were  called  Knights  of 
the  Blue  Thong.' 

T)>e  leaBon  of  Lent  prevented  the  immediate  marriage  of  Richard  aod 
his  betrothed ;  and.  as  etiquette  did  not  permit  ihe  unwedded  maiden, 
BercDgwia,  lo  einhark  in  the  Trenc-the-mere  under  the  immediate  pro- 
lactioii  of  her  lover,  she  sailed,  in  company  with  queen  Joanna,  in  one 

It  i«  Piera  of  Laninoft  who  preierTes  tU*  K 

,  Kulffn.  Sir  Egerton  Bridge)  nnme*  Bogei  Si,  John  as  out  oC  llieae  early 
b  of  (be  Gnrtei,  8l.  George  wa<  ihe  tiilclnrjr  Mint  of  Aqiiiinine ;  his  naiYM 
Ifce  wn-ctj  of  the  dukedom.    King;  Rii^hnrd  bad  o   Titian  of  Sl.  Oeorg* 

■  lit  tuidertnok  tlie  crusade,  end  many  iiidJcaiioas  tlirauglinut  ilie  chronltlen 

■  llial  St.  OeorgD  w»  oonsldeied  the  palron  jainl  of  ibe  el|irditia 


J 


13  BERE.YBARIA    OF    NAVARBB. 

of  ihc  atrongeat  t>hip9,  uniler  llie  care  of  a  brave  knight,  adltd  Si«phai 
lie  Tumliam. 

AftiT  these  arrangements,  lUelianl  led  tlie  »an  of  the  Jl<«l,  iu  Tmw- 
ihe-mere,  bearing  a  huge  lanierii  al  her  poop,  to  mlly  ihe  fleet  in  (li* 
darkness  nf  night.  Thus,  with  a  hundred  and  My  sliips  and  lifty  gal- 
leys, and  aecompanied  by  his  bride  and  his  sister,  did  Lion^auud 
Itiehard  hoist  sail  for  Pnlesiinei  where  Pliilip  Auguetus  had  itlicady  iaJo- 
lently  commenced  the  si^  of  Acre. 

■■  Syrian  virBiiii  wail  and  vreep, 
Engllali  Rii'lisril  plnuglii  lite  ileep." 

But  we  must  turn  a  d^.if  car  tn  die  bewitching  metre  of  poUiM 
verm,  and  qiinie  deiaila  inken  by  Piers  or  Langton  fiom  Uie  Piotni^ 
comrade  of  Richard  and  Berengaria's  enisade  voyage. 


-Till  kina  Rioliaf-I  be  forwar. 

He  ninj'  linva  no  rosl, 
Acre*  tUcn  ia  liii  tiyntB, 

Upon  SBiBcen  fiends,' 
To  TBnge  Jesli  Cfaritl, 

Hiiherwaril  he  wendi. 
The  king!  li^ler  Joanna, 

And  lady  Borengare, 
Foremoai  sailed  of  ilk  one; 

Next  them  hU  chaacellor, 
Soger  Mancel. 

~     ■  high^ 


The  I 
Hii  tide  Toll  a 


well; 


A  rirmprsl  on  him  light, 
Ki>  ship  wu  ilown  liame, 

Hiinseir  tliero  lo  iJie; 
The  kings  ■enl  «nu  lost, 

Willi  oiliot  gBlliet  iwajr. 
Lady  Joanno  she 

Tlir  Lord  JoTO  Iiejought, 
In  Cypnii  tlic  migfit  be 

To  haven  ()Mickly  brou^ 
Tlie  mnidnu  Beretitnre, 

She  was  wre  alHglil, 
Thai  nelilier  (Ur  nur  near. 

Hor  kiim  tixle  In  aighi." 


Queen  Joanna  was  alarmed  for  herself;  but  the  maiden  Berengirii 
only  ihou^ht  of  Richard's  safety. 

Bernard,  the  treasurer,  does  nm  allow  thai  Joanna  was  qitile  so  modi 
rrighlenetl.  We  translate  his  words:  "Queen  Joanna's  gallw  shelund 
in  the  harbour  of  Limoussa,  when  Isaac,  the  lord  of  Cyprus,  sml  t«e 
boats,  and  demanded  if  ihu  queen  would  land  ?  She  dcriin-'ij  the  nftr, 
nying,  'all  she  wanted  was  to  know  if  the  king  ofKnglatid  )iad  pused' 
They  replied, '  ihey  dirl  not  know.'  At  that  junrtnre  Isaac  appnatiol 
with  a  great  power,  upon  which  the  chevaliers,  who  guarded  the  royil 
ladies,  got  the  galley  in  order  to  be  rowed  out  of  (he  harbour)  at  the 
Erst  indication  of  hnjiility.  Meantime  Isaac,  who  saw  Bcrennria  «a 
boanl,  demanded  ■  ^Vhal  damsel  that  was  with  tliem .'''  Thev  declard, 
J  was  the  sister  of  ihe  king  o(  Na\-arre,  whom  the  king  of  Enj- 
land's  mother  had  brought  for  him  to  espous*.'  Isaac  seemrd  «>  aiigrr 
al  this  intelligence,  that  Stephen  de  Turiiliam  gare  signal  tn  hetre  vf 
Uie  anchor,  and  the  queen'.s  galley  rowed  with    all   cpn>d   into  tki 

When  ihe  gale  had  somewhat  abated,  king  RichattI,  after  tniwenni 
I  hia  navy,  found  not  only  llial  the  ship  was  missing  wherein  WW* 
f  drowned  both  die  chancellor  of  England  and  tlie  great  anal,'  """"' 
I  galley  thai  hore  the  precioua  freight  of  his  sislcr  and  hi*  bride. 


^H  BBBBNOAIIIA     OF    NAVARRE. 

^Hfairly  ■ailrd  rmm  a  rHeniMy  Crelan  Ijarbniir.  in  e^parcli  of  his  lost 

^Mpi.     WfieD  nrrived  off  CypniN,  iip  entered  die  bay  of  FarnagiisCu,  uid 

Hpllal  Uin  ^ili-y  thnt  r^nnlaineii   lits  princesses  lal'ourjiig  heavily,  and 

^Waing  in  ihr  nffine.     lie  became  infuriated  wiih  the  thought  that  some 

wmne  had  bi^n  oflcred  to  thrm,  and  leaped,  armed  aa  he  was,  into  the 

fini  boat  that  roidd  be  prepared.     His  anger  inrrenKed  on  learning,  thai 

tie  queen's  galley  had  put  inii  the  Imy,  iu  ilic  slorm,  but  had  been 

ilritcn  inhoBpiiably  from  shelter,  by  the  threats  of  the  Greek  despot.' 

At  the  time  of  Richard's  landing,  Isnue  and  all  his  islandem  were 
biKitv  employed,  in  plundering  the  wreck  of  the  chancellor's  Ehip.  and 
Iwn  English  IranaporU,  then  stranded  on  the  Cypriot  shore.  As  this 
•rif-fiyled  emperor,  though  in  behaviour  wor«c  than  a  pagan,  professed 
ui  he  a  Diripiian,  Richard,  at  his  lirai  landing,  sent  him  a  eivil  message, 
•uEgetting  the  propriety  of  leaving  off  plundering  his  wrecks.  To  ihia" 
Wf  rFlurnt'd  an  impertinent  answer,  say'mjr.  •■that  whatever  goods  iba 
•n  threw  on  his  island  he  should  take,  without  asking  leave  of  any 

"Thoy  iliall  1*  Wii-lit  full  d™,  l.y  J«u,  lipnvi-n'a  kiiigl" 

Wjih  tliJB  saying,  RichanI,  batlle-Axe  in  hand,  led  his  criisaderB  so 

Mdly  tn  ilie  rescue,  that  tlie  mock  emperor  and  his  Cypriots  scompered 

iaio  LiinoussB,  ilie  capital  of  the  island,  much  faster  than  they  had 

WiiL 

r'r'.rd  ftoto  ilie  presence  of  the  inhospitable  despot,  king  Richard 

'  ■  rignals  for  Joanna's  galley  to  enter  the  harbour.     Bereupiria,  half 

;  11  Uh  laligue  and  terror,  was  welcomed  on  shore  by  the  conquering 

:.  M'hen.  saya  the  chronicler,  '■  there  was  joy  and  love  enow." 

li  i-otin  as  Isaac  Comuenus  was  safe  behind  the  walls  of  his  citadel, 

-    (I  a  MieHraire,  to  rei^uest  a  conference  with  king  Richard,  who  ex- 

<  <:  tiial  he  bad  a  little  lowered  the  despot's  pride;  but  when  they 
.  I«aar  was  so  full  of  vapouring  and  boasting,  that  he  elicited  from 
_■  HiclinrtI  an  "aside"  in  English;  and  as  Cceur  de  Lion  then  uitere<l 

<  idv  winds  in  our  language  he  ever  was  known  to  speak,  it  is  well 
.  iiMve  been  recorded  by  chronicle. 

!l,i?    de  dehil."'  exclaimed  king  Richard,  ^he  speke  like  a  fole 

■  l-«ac  and  Richard  could  not  come  to  any  terms  of  pacification,  the 
'X  retreated,  to  a  stronghold  in  a  neighbouring  mountain ;  while 
'.rJ.  after  making  a  speech  to  the  liouduners,  i^we  hope  in  more 
<  &)gliih  than  the  ntiove,)  instigating  them  lo  the  siorm  of  the 
j'-t  rsniuil,  with  promise  of  phmder,  led  them  on  to  the  attack,  axe 
'i  'iind.     The  Londoners  easily  captured  Linioussa. 

1  was  clear  of  Isaac  and  his  myrmidons,  magnilicent 


•nd  Pirn  Lan^oA.     Dtipel  ■ai 
I^DV*^    Tbli  speeph  implied 


lille  giv 


D  itie  p(^^y  GrMk 


olTi-Mce  lo  l1i«  Englifh,  bui  wu 
111  ■taj'  piDvtrhiil  in  Fmute  fbr 

iitil  WBn  biurr  SKainM  ihe  Btri|nn*,who  ilppriie'l 
of  lita  lh>n  ai'bnowlcilgEd  lirir,  .Arthur,  ttiett  Julie.  (nniMn/.J 


14  BERENOABIA    OP    N  A  V  A  R  K  B. 

Ervparaiions  were  nnailc  al  IJmnDSKa,  for  ihe  nupuals  am]  c 
itig  Ilirlinnl  and  Rereiij^an  >.  Wi;  are  able  [o  describe  tlie 
maiTe  by  ilipse  rovnl  pereoiinge*.  nt  this  high  solemnil^.  Ki 
coalume,  we  may  supjiose,  raried  lilile  frt>m  Ihal  in  which  h 
ence  to  the  despot  Isaac,  a  day  afler  llie  marriage  had  taken  { 
*'A  salin  tunic  o[  rose-colour  was  belied  round  hia  w&ial 
lie  was  of  striped  silver  tissue,  brocaded  with  silver  half-* 
><wor<l,  nf  line  Dninascus  aieel,  had  a  hilt  of  gold,  and  a  ■' 
tiheaih :  on  hia  head  be  wore  a  scarlet  bonnet,  brocaded  ii 
rigurea  of  aniitiBlii.  lie  bore  a  truncheon  in  his  hand.  I 
steed  was  leil  before  him,  saddled  and  billed  with  sold,  aiu 
was  inlaid  with  precious  slones:  two  little  ^nhkn  liiMM  w| 
it,  in  the  place  of  a  cnipper:  they  were  figured  with  iheir  ( 
in  art  to  Birike  each  other."  In  this  attire,  Vinisauf  adds,  ** 
ard,  who  had  yellow  curia,  a  bright  complcxiuu,  and  a  figun 
htmseir,  apprai«d  a  perfect  model  of  military  and  manly  gi 
The  eftigy  of  queen  Bercngaria,  at  EspHn,  certainly  pre 
bride — H  circumstance  which  is  ascertained  by  the  flowing 
matrons  always  wearing  their  hair  covered,  or  else  closely  In 
Her  hair  is  parted,  d  la  viergc,  on  the  brow ;  a  transparen) 
on  each  fide,  like  the  Spanish  mantillas,  hangs  behiiiil,  and 
rich  tresses  at  their  length ;  the  veil  is  confined  by  a  regal  i 
peculiar  splendour,  »t"dded  with  several  bands  of  gpms,  and  ■ 
by ^flfurs-de-lit,  \o  which  so  much  foliage  is  added,  as  to  gifj 
peamnce  of  a  double  crown ;  perhaps  because  she  was  croi 
of  Cyprus  as  well  as  England.  Our  anliqnaries  affirm,  that  I 
character  of  Berengaria's  elegant  but  singular  style  of  be« 
conviction  to  every  one  who  looks  on  her  effigy,  iliat  it  ia 
finished  portrait. 

At  his  marriage,  king  Richard  proclaimed  a  grand  feast 

»  To  Llmouixa  ihe  lulf  wu  led,  I  Tlie  ihird  day  of  Ui«  r«l 

Hi«  Tca^i  ibc  king  did  ciy.  Bisbop  Beraard  of  Bayo 

Bi-rciip^fti  will  l«  weJ,  i  Newed  ofl  the  gettr 

And  wijtiiKn  llicnhy.  |  To  the  qusen  he  gava  i 

■•  And  there  in  the  joyous  month  of  May,  II91,"  says 
writer,  "  in  tlie  fluurisliing  and  spacious  isle  of  Cyprus,  celebt 
very  abode  of  the  goddess  of  love,  did  king  Richard  «olen 
wife  his  beloved  lady  Berengaria."  By  the  consent  of  t] 
wearied  of  Isaac^s  tyranny,  and  by  i!)e  advice  of  the  allied  ei 
came  lo  assist  al  his  nuptials,  Richanl  was  crowned  king  at  \ 
lii9_bridc  qtieen  of  England  and  Cyprus. 

Soon  after,  ihe  fair  heireRS  of  Cyprus,  daughter  to  the 
fame  and  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  Richart,  "  Lord  KiiL 
**  have  mercy  on  me ;"  when  the  king  courteously  put  [bnh 
lift  her  from  the  ground,  and  sent  her  lo  his  wife  and  his  sii 
As  many  historical  scandals  are  afloat  resjiecting  the  Cypnl 
implying  that  Richard,  captivated  by  the  distressed  tieauiyi 

■  Viuiaauf.  'May  i8th.  Slows  Chroniol**  | 


BXftXNOARIA    OF    HAVARRB.  19 

ok  his  queen,  it  is  well  to  observe  the  words  of  an  eye- 
declares  ^  that  Richard  sent  the  lady  directly  to  his  qneen, 
lie  never  parted  till  after  tlieir  return  to  Europe.'^ 
der  of  the  Cypriot  princess  was  followed  by  the  capture 
whom  the  king  of  England  bound  in  silver  chains,  richly 
•nted  to  queen  Berengaria  as  her  captive.* 
mclusion  of  the  nuptial<«,  and  coronation  of  Berengaria,  her 
K)m  once  more  hoisted  his  flag  on  his  good  galley  Treuc- 
I  set  sail,  in  beautiful  summer  weather,  for  Palestine, 
d  her  sister-in-law  again  sailed,  under  the  protection  of  sir 
*umham*,  such  being  safer  than  companionship  with  the 
ird.'  Their  galley  made  the  port  of  Acre  before  the  Trenc- 

arrival  at  Acre,  though,"  says  Bernard  le  Tresorier,  "  it 
rous  to  the  king  of  France  to  know  that  Richard  was  mar- 
her  than  his  sister ;  yet  he  received  Berengaria  with  great 
ng  her  in  his  arms,  and  liAing  her  on  shore  himself,  from 
c  beach." 

peared  before  Acre  on  the  long  bright  day  of  St.  Barnabas, 
3le  allied  army,  elated  by  the  naval  victory  he  had  won  by 
ched  to  the  beach,  to  welcome  their  companion.  **  The 
with  footsteps  of  the  Christians,  and  the  sound  of  their 

}  was  taken,  Richard  established  his  queen  and  sister  safely 
remained  at  Acre  with  the  Cypriot  princess,  during  tlie 
Syrian  campaign,  under  the  care  of  Richard^s  castellans, 

^erdun  and  Stephen  de  Munchenis. 
of  the  mosque  at  Acre  are  the  ruins  of  a  palace,  called  to 

Dg  Richaid^s  Palace*,"^  this  was  doubtless  the  abode  of 

3t  a  more  pleasant  spot  in  history,  than  the  tender  friend- 
igaria  and  Joanna,  who  formed  an  attachment,  amidst  the 

9al  metrical  historian^  who  is  the  guide  of  Piers  of  Langtoft 
nirds  entered   among  the  Templaris  and  died    in    their  order, 
ited  hi:^  island  to  Guy  de  Lusignan,  his  friend,  a;*  a  compensation 
ren]!«alem.     Tliis  dethronement  of  Iraac,  and  the  captivity  of  his 
the  origin  of  Richard's  imprisonment  in  Germany,  as  we  shall 

irrifal  was  delaye<l  by  a  naval  battle  with  a  rich  Saracen  argosie, 
ired  with  great  plunder.  The  mansuvres  of  the  Trenc-the-mere 
bed  by  the  Provencal ;  likewise  the  casting  of  the  Greek  fire. 

»  own  galley  The  galley  to  her  drew, 

it  Trcnc-the-mere;  The  king  stood  full  stout, 

under  weijjh,  And  many  of  iliem  slew. 

that  ship  full  near,  Though  wild  fire*  they  cast'* 

her  buckets  out. 

;  Travels.  The  tradition  is  that  Richard  bnilt  the  palace;  but  he 
for  any  such  work.  The  architecture  it  ^rac-euic,  and  it  wwt 
ace  of  the  re»id#»ut  emir  of  Acre. 

*  Greek  fire. 


16  BEBeN<IAItlAOPNA%'ARRB. 

perils  And  terrors  of  storm  anil  aie^,  enJiiig;  onlywtlh  tkeirll'M.'  Hov 
quaintly,  yet  cicpreesively.  is  ilieir  gentle  unil  femiuiiie  love  fur  Mcft 
other  marketl,  hy  tlie  sweet  Bimplkiiy  or  l)ie  words, 

•"Tliry  tmlii  piu'h  oxhfi  lieor, 
And  liveJ  in  i!ovi-«  in  ragul"  I 

noting,  at  the  rame  time,  the  harem-like  sreliioinQ  in  which  the  roril 
ladies  dwelt,  while  sharing  the  rruwde  campaign. 

It  was  from  the  citaiM  of  Acre  thai  Kichard  liire  i)i>wn  the  banner  ol 
Leo)>o1d,  archduke  of  Austria,  wlio  was  Lhe  uncle  of  the  Cy{mM  bilf.      ' 
Her  caplivitv  was  the  real  mutter  of  dispute. 

Wb  have  little  space  to  dwell  on  Richard's  deeds  of  T'-ii  ,  '     i  '  - 
in  Palestine,  on  the  capture  of  .^sralon,  or  ihc   lialile   -d     '• 
which  city  was  killed  Hiclmrd's  good  slced,  named   K.i  i 
feats  in  battle  are  nearty  as  much  celebrated,  by  the   iiii. 
those  of  his  master.' 

AFler  the  death  of  Fanuelle,  Richard  wa^  obliges!  to  figlit  on  foot.  Thf 
»urteous  Saladin.  who  saw  him  thus  biiiilitig,  was  eliucked  thu  w 
accomplished  a  cavalier  shimld  be  dismounted,  and  sent  Imn.  m  j  p- 
seni,  a  masniliccnt  Arab  charger.     RichanI  had  tlie  prer^nt'' 

e  «r  his  knights  to  mount  the  charger  first     The  hcail-i 
•ooner  found  a  stranger  un  his  hack,  than  he  took  the  )>ii 
teeth,  and.  refusing  all  control,  gallopped  back  tn  his  nwi:    ,  .  > 
^ing  the  Christian  knigltl  into  the  midst  i>f  Saladin's  camp-     li'  i^i 
Richard  had  ridden  the  wilfitl  animal,  he  woidd,  in  like  manner,  haw 
been  at  the  mercy  of  tlie  Saracens.     Soladin  was  ao  ranch  aslianird  M 
the  misbehavinur  of  his  present,  that  he  cnuld  st^rcj^ly  look  up  <*Ue  hi 
apologized  to  the  Chrisiian  knight;  for  it  appeared  as  if  be  liad  lai^  i 
it%p  for  the  liberty  of  king  Richard.     He  sent  back  the  kiiight,  uinualiJ 
on  s  more  manageable  steed,  on  which  Richard  lode  to  the  cni^  i^'iSc 

Irampaign.' 
King  Richard,  during  his  Syrian  campaign,  was  once  ^ 
Jerusalem,  but  never  took  it.     While  he  was  with  his  i|ij>  > 
at  Acre,  an  incident  befel  him.  of  which  de  Joiirville,  the  . 
anna  of  St.  Louis,  has  ihuti  preserved  the  memnry.  , 

"■  In  those  times,  wbci.  Hugh,  duke  of  Burgundy,  and  king  Rirlian)  of  I 
England,  were  abiding  n'  Acre,  they  received  inlelligence  tliai  ihry  mista  I 
take  Jerusalem  if  they  rhnse,  for  its  garrison  had  f^one  to  itu-  u.'.i-;:"t  I 
of  Dumascus.     The  dnke  of  Burgundy*  and  king  Richar' 
! 


» 


'  Sinilanj  CmUn,  in  tier  cel^hmVed  b«I  florid   r 

1mi  ■  !i5ln  f(   Kinliara'a  (hare.!   hU  ciiis>.,l<.  w,ii,    i 
Imiy  nor  Sir  Wntler  Sootl  soein  awaro  which  pi^n 

called  FaTBllf.  probablr  Flavel,  meanin|r  jreUow, 
liwIiKiW'  ihlt  pei-tlcssclmtiT  was  laUenainongtbe  cpaJIsorC;!  ■ 
nam-!,!  LfBri).     'Vhe  civnliers  in  aticipni  limes  nmneil  Iheu    ^'■ 
ooloar.  HS  BayanI,  ImjMiilour;  Ljiari,  gtrj;  FerraiHil.  black  ■*  imn:  FIjw^  p-  J 
low  iir  v»r)r  liirtir  *nrrrl,  I 

"  "■       .i<:la  of  flrrimr,!  le  TrcMrier.  I 

I  Ai>)(i»i<i-  "><'<  tliF  iliikc  ol' AnitriB  ilorampml  fVnm  l9ii>  rriaa^  WfV  1 
H'lgli  "1  eu'L;iiid/-  eoiiimnniled  ilie  rcmoiul  of  Iho  Prei^-h  f--— .  ' 


lA    or    NAVAnRE.  17 

_  ..  .a  Uie  holy  city.  Rirhard's  ballalions  led  ihe  way.  wlijle 
•*  force  brouc;hl  up  ilie  rear.  But  when  king  Richard  ilrew 
tunleiD.  intelligence  was  brought  )itin  that  the  duke  of  Biir- 
[  lumuil  back  with  his  division,  out  of  pure  etivy,  thai  it  might 
id  that  ihc  king  of  England  had  Uiken  Jerusalem.  As  iheKe 
ere  diHCUssing,  one  of  the  king  n{  England's  katghls  cried 

Bire,  only  come  hilher.  and  I  will  show  you  Jerusalom,' 
le  kingt  throwing  down  his  weapons,  said,  with  tears  in  his 
'hands  uplifted  lo  heaven, — 

'  Lord  OotI,  I  pray  ihee  ihai  I  may  never  see  thy  holy  city, 
I,  since  things  thus  happen ;  and  Kince  1  cannot  deliver  it  from 
tof  thine  enemies .''  Richard  could  do  nothing  more  than  re- 
R  queen  and  sister,  at  Acre. 

tnuei  know  thai  this  king  Richard  performed  such  deeds  of 
Vrhen  he  was  in  the  Holy  Land,  that  the  Saracens,  on  seeing 
n  frightened  ai  aahadow  or  a  bush,  cried  out  lo  litem, '  What! 
k  Mclech-Ric  is  there  ?'  This  they  were  accuslomed  to  say, 
many  times  he  had  vanquished  them.  In  tike  manner,  when 
fen  of  Turks  or  Saracens  cried,  their  mothers  said  to  ihem, 
lah!  or  [  will  give  yoti  lo  king  Richard;  and  from  ihe  terror 
ITonle  the  babee  were  instantly  quiet.'" 

evenqal  historian  affirms  that  the  final  trace  between  Richard 
in  was  concluded  in  a  fair  llowery  meadow*  near  Mount  Tabor; 
thard  waa  so  much  charmed  with  the  gallant  bearing  of  ihe 
Utacreanis,  as  Saladin  is  civilly  termed  in  the  crusading  treaties. 
Bclared  he  would  rather  be  ihe  friend  of  that  brave  and  honest 
in  the  ally  of  the  crafly  PhUip  or  the  brutal  Leopold. 
Iliinin  of  1192  had  commenced,  when  king  Ricliard  concluded 
I  with  Saladin,  and  prepared  lo  return,  covered  with  fniilleM 
bis  native  dominions.  A  mysterious  eatrangement  had,  at  this 
li  place  between  him  and  Berengaria;  yel  the  chroniclers  do 
ion  thai  any  rival  had  supplanted  the  queen,  but  merely  that 
of  war  had  divided  him  from  her  company.  As  for  the  Cy- 
ecsi,  if  he  were  estranged  from  his  queen,  he  mnst  likewise 
\  Bepttrated  from  the  fair  captive,  since  she  always  remained  with 

tig  bade  fiirewell  lo  his  queen  and  sister,  and  now  them  eml>ai^, 
iveniiig  of  his  own  departure.  The  queens  were  accompanied 
^nriot  princess,  and  tiailed  from  Acre,  under  the  care  of  Stephen 
BID,  September  the  29th.  Richard  meant  to  return  by  a  difierem 
DM  Europe.  He  travelled  in  the  disguise  of  a  Templar,  anil 
'f  in  a  ship  belonging  to  the  master  of  the  Temple.  This  vessel 
ked  olT  Ihe  eoasi  of  Istria,  which  forced  Richard  (o  proceed 


.9  parBphnsaJ  by  Drj'den: 

irp  Sebaslion's  fonniclable  name 
b  longfrr  u*ed  to  (till  llie  crying  babo." 


A 


I 

I 

p 


19  BEBB.NGARIA    OF    NAVARRE.  ^H 

homewards  through  ilie  iloinnins  of  his  enemy,  LeopolJ  of  Anltlh 
But  to  Ills  ignonini-«  of  geography  is  attributed  bis  nwtr  appruub  to 
Lecpolil'g  L-apiial.  Afier  several  narruw  es«-jpes,a  page  win  by  Rkhwil. 
to  piirrliase  provisions  at  a  village  near  Vienna,  waa  ntcn^niml  by  u 
ufficer  who  had  muile  the  ble  crusade  with  Leopold.  The  boy  «u 
seized,  aiid,  after  enduring  cruel  tunuenis,  he  cou[eaatd  where  he  had 
left  his  master. 

When  Leopold  received  certain  intelligence  where  Kidiard  lwr!xnin<l. 
ihe  inn  was  searched,  but  not  a  Houl  fuuud  there  who  Ixire  any  appear- 
ance of  a  king.  "  No,"  said  the  people,  "  there  i«  no  one  here,  without 
he  be  ilie  Templar  in  the  kitchen,  Dow  turning  the  fowlx  which  tn 
riMsiing  for  dinner.  The  officer  of  LeopolJ  took  the  hint,  and  wm 
into  the  kitchen,  where,  in  fact,  was  ceated  a  leniphu,  very  busy  iuruui| 
the  spit.  The  Austrian  chevalier,  who  hud  servej  in  the  cruaile,  koeir 
hira,  and  said  quickly,  "  There  he  in — seize  liitn  I" 

C<eur  de  Lion  started  from  the  spit,  and  did  battle  fur  his  liberty  Djhl 
valiantly,  but  was  overborne  by  numbers.' 

Tiie  revengeful  Leopold  inunediatety  imprisoned  his  gallant  eaeoir. 
and  iinniured  liiin  so  closely  in  a  S^'riaii  castle,  called  Teiiebreuw,  ilnl 
for  months  no  one  knew  whether  the  lion-hearted  king  was  alin-  or 
dead.  Richard,  whose  heroic  name  was  the  theme  of  adniiralioa  in 
Europe,  and  the  burden  of  every  song,  seemed  vanished  from  the  htt 
of  the  earth. 

Better  fortune  attended  the  vessel  that  bore  the  fairfreight  of  the  liuM 
royal  ladies.  Stephen  de  Tumham's  galley  arrived,  without  acctdfin,* 
Naples,  where  Berengaria,  Joanna,  and  the  Cypriut  princass,  tandid 
safely,  and,  under  llie  care  of  Sir  Stephen,  Journeyed  to  Home. 

The  Provencal  traditions  declare,  diat  here  Berengarin  first  look  A> 
alnrai,  thai  some  disaster  had  happened  to  her  lord,  from  seeing  a  Ml 
of  jewels  ollered  for  sale,  wliich  she  knew  had  been  on  his  persoa  aha 
ahe  parted  from  him.  At  R>>ine  she  likewise  heard  some  vagne  rvforiB 
of  his  shipwreck,  and  of  llie  timiity  of  the  emperor  Henry  VL* 

Berengsria  was  detained  at  Rome,  with  her  royal  companions,  W  ha 
fear  of  the  emperor,  for  upwards  of  half  a  year.  At  length  the  pop 
moved  by  her  distress  and  earnest  entreaties,  sent  them,  under  the  cart 
of  Messire  Mellar,  one  of  the  cardinals,  to  Pisa,  whence  they  procralnl 
til  Genoa,  where  they  took  shippijig  to  tlur^eilles.  At  MaraeUtes,  Be- 
reugaria  was  met  by  her  friend  and  kinsman,  the  king  of  Arragou,  who 
allowed  the  royal  ladies  every  mark  of  reverence,  gave  them  safe  can- 
duct  dirough  his  Provencal  doinauis,  and  sent  ttiem  on,  under  Ifac  scot 
of  tlie  count  de  Sanclo  Egidio. 

This  Egidio  is  doubtless  the  gallant  Raymond  count  St.  GiUea,  who, 
travelling  from  Rome  with  a  strong  escort,  olTered  his  protection  U  tat 
distressed  queens;  and  though  his  lather,  the  count  of  ThoulooMS hal, 
dnring  Richards  crusade,  invaded  Guienne,  and  drawn  on  himsrif  * 
severe  chastisement  from  Berengaria's  faithful  brother,  Saneho  the  Smiif, 


BRENGARIA    Op    NAVABBE.  l!l 

>nng  oant  lo  well  arquiitcd  himseif  of  his  charge,  thai  he 
"i-cliotift  nf  tiie  f»\t  widow,  queen  Jofinna.  on  the  Journey.' 
lent  uf  the«e  Wers  henteil  the  eninily  ihnl  hnti  hmg^sub- 
vtt  the  house  of  Ai|«itiiine  anil  ih»l  of  tlie  couiiu  of  Thou- 
Ti-uut  nf  the  superior  cliijniH  of  qiieon  Eleaitora  on  thai  great 
n  Elfauura  found  the  love  iliat  siihsisicd  between  her  ynunijesl 
'ie  heir  of  Thoulouse,  she  conriliated  his  father,  by  giving  up 
[>  her  (laughler,  and  BereDgaria  hui!  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
{ftieiuts  united,  after  she  arrived  at  Pollou.* 

II  Berengaria  is  \e(l  tafely  in  her  own  dominions,  it  ia  lime 

0  her  uiifurluiiate  lord,  who  seems  to  liave  been  declined,  by 
a  of  Leopold,  to  a  life-loog  incarceraliou.  The  royal  prisoner 
Wpairetl  of  liberty,  when  he  wrate  that  pathetic  passage  in  hi* 

"roveD^nl  tens  on,  saying,  "Now  know  I  for  a  certainly 

s  for  Hie  neither  friend  nnr  parent,  nr  for  the  lack  of  gold 

luld  not  so  lung  reiiiiiin  a  prisoner." 

■icely  did  justice  lo  his  aiTectioiiate  uiuiher,  who,  direcdy  she 

b  captivity,  never  ceased  exerting  herself  for  his  release. 

It  giving  any  credence  to  ilie  ballad  story  of  king  Richard  and 

!•  heart,  which  solely  seems  to  have  arisen  from  a  meiaphorictil 

of  the  iroubfulour  Fej-rols,' iind  is  not  even  alluded  lo  by  the 

fuginative  of  contemporary  chroniclers,  it  really  appears  thai 
[  was  ill-treated,  during  his  German  captivity.  Matthew  Paris 
llin  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon  from  whence  no  other  man  ever 
LpritJi  lile,  and  was  loailed  with  irons ;  yet  lua  couiueiiaiice  wu 
put,  and  his  conversation  pleasant  and  facetious,  with  the  crowds 
gitards  by  whom  he  was  sunoiinded  day  and  night. 
B  long  time  before  Richard's  friends  could  with  atiy  certainly 
pi  bm  locality,  lie  vtas  utterly  lost  for  some  monllis.  Blomld, 
ftatu  knight  and  poet,  who  had  been  shipwrecked  with  him  on 
tt«f  istria.and  who  liad  sought  him  through  the  cities  of  southent 
m,  sung,  beneath  the  lower  1  euebreuae  in  which  he  was  confined) 
LwUich  Bichard  and  he  had  composed  together.     Scarcely  had 

1  the  first  stanza,'  when  Richard  replied  with  the  second. 

JuvrUon,  fol,  A4T. 

t  iMOfUiR  nri  lliat  king  RicliuJ  betroiheii  hi!  rislsr  to  the  galbun 

'l  Gitln.  in  PiilrmliiF ,  an  aHpnion  cotiuuliuHd  by  the  «niniir  su^ 

nod/Id  etUBula  limili  cimni  by  Feyrol*,  he  enlia  Die  Viog  lio«Jltarlii 

'  ifiol*  WM  hi»  fallow-tolJier.— (Si«m«rfi.)      Tha  eiuUett  olirouklsr 

isriie  lion  lagctiil  it  lUiuill,  ilt«  bniiliec-iii-Jnwor^iiTlioinuMoia, 

I»tii-c  ludiuit  of  knowtiig  i)ie  iiuih  than  we  havi..     Here  are  his 

ison  lli«  iiil|j«>^i.     "Il  ia  ini<l  tliat  a  !V"n  wna  |>u>  ■"  king  Riehard. 

n  ha»e  drrnuied  him.  and  when  the  lyon  was  pipUig,  ho  p« 

mouQt  ai"!  piMtd  lU  Urn  by  IM  htart  a  hard  Uuu  ho  »l«w  ih» 

1^  dierafore  l*  palleil  Cutur  .lo    Lyon;  wUilo  olhrri   Mf  lio  U  caUod 
nans*  of  hi*  boldnei*  and  hardy  ilomaoh. ' 

n  b  not  pieHtvad,  bui  llie  poem  Kiuliud  compoMil  i»  alill  in 

l^u«  Royatn.     Tb.^0  ii  no  jn^t  rPiuon  for  (Joublimt  tbii  I'rovBnfal 
~'      -  -   -' c  dbcovvty  of  ItH-liiuii.    CiuKciuUni  and 


30 


«  K  C  A     11  F     .1  A  V 


Blondnl  dirrctly  wcni  in  nuncn  Eleanorn.  antl  rJ^e  her  litunga  jf  in 
eximnticD  of  iwr  min.anil  nht  (uok  meonutea  forlim  releue.  IW  ]tUes> 
to  iliB  pojip  are  wrilicii  with  b  pu«ionaie  eloqiiaiice,  highly  illunintitc 
of  that  trnJiliui)  uf  lliB  aouth  wliich  naiiiM  her  among  the  poeta  of  ha 
couiilry. 

••  Moilier  of  pity,"  she  wys.  "  look  upon  a  mother  of  so  many  ifflw- 
tiona  t  or  if  thy  holy  Sun,  the  fountain  of  mercy,  iklHicts  my  son  for  aij 
iraiifgrvMion,  oh  lei  me,  who  nm  the  muse,  endure  nlone  thi!  pnniih- 
inent.  Two  *ons  nlnni;  remnin  for  my  succour,  who  but  iniiecii  eumie 
fnr  tny  miwry^  for  king  Itichanl  I'xiats  in  fHlers,  while  prince  Joluii 
brother  to  the  cajtlive,  denupulalt^a  wiih  the  ewoni,  and  wuteii  with  6re. 
Thr  Lord  in  agniiiBt  me,  hla  wrvth  fi»hls  against  me,  iherefure  do  mj 
children  fight  a^insl  each  other !" 

The  queen-mother  here  alhides  to  the  strife  raised  by  prince  Jnlui. 
(Id  had  obtained  his  brother's  leave  to  abide  in  England,  on  conJioua 
that  ho  submitted  to  tlie  government  e«tnblislicd  there,  (^iicen  Eleouan 
had  intended  lu  fix  her  residence  at  Rouen,  ns  a  central  situation,  be 
tween  her  own  dominions  und  Itiose  of  king  Kiehard.  Bui  the  cnnfasMt 
•tale  of  afliiirB  in  Englnnd  summoned  her  thither,  F'ebruur>'  11,  1191 
She  found  John  in  open  rebellion;  for,  stimtjialcd  by  uieji^MigBS  trnn 
riiilip  Anguaius,  offering  him  nil  Kirhard's  continental  pnivinres,  and 
the  hand  o(  Alice,  rrjuctcd  by  Kichnril,  he  aimed  at  nniliing  Icaa  Ltiu  Uk 
Engliah  crown.  The  arrival  of  his  mother  curbed  his  Eutbulencc}  sh* 
loll]  him  lo  touch  his  brollier's  right*  under  peril  nf  her  curse ;  she  hn- 
bade  his  disgraceful  intention  of  allying  himself  with  Alice;  and  U 
render  such  mischievous  project  impossible,  she  lel\  lliat  princess  m 
close  confinement  at  Rouen,  instead  of  delivering  her  to  Phdip  AugaxIM 
u  king  KiclianI  had  agreed ;  so  liiile  iniLli  is  Acre  in  the  common  ajtw 
tion,  that  the  worthloMs  character  of  John  might  ho  altribuiml  to  llM 
encouragement  his  vices  received  from  hie  mother;  but  it  waa  tliedoiaf 
ailcctian  of  Henry  il,  for  his  youngest  son,  that  had  this  eQecL,  at  h* 
was  the  child  nf  his  old  ngo,  and  constantly  near  him,  while  the  queca 

.s  kept  in  confinement,  at  a  distance  from  her  family. 


When 


II  Eleanora  and  the  chief  justiciary  heard  of  the  deteation 


of  king  Richard,  ihey  sent  two  abbots  to  confer  with  him  in  Germany 
They  met  hua,  wiih  his  guards,  on  the  road  to  Worms,  where  a  dielof 
the  empire  was  soon  to  bo  held,  and  were  received  by  hiiu  with  hi* 
usuul  spiril  and  nnimniion.  He  inqnirrd  into  the  state  of  hii>  friends,  Iw 
•ubjeets,  and  his  dominions,  and  particularly  after  the  hmlilt  of  ilie  kuf 
of  Scotland,  on  whose  honour,  lie  said,  he  entirely  relied  ;  and  certainly 
he  was  not  deceived  in  his  judgment  of  the  character  of  that  hero.  OS 
hearing  of  the  base  conduct  of  his  brotlier  John,  he  was  shocked  wi 
looked  grave ;  but  presently  recovering  his  cheerfulness,  lie  laid,  will) 
■  smile,  "My  brother  John  was  never  made  for  contjneriag  kli^- 


«  iffrfr 


BBRBNGARIA    OF    NAYARRB.  31 

Richftrd  defended  himself  before  the  diet,  with  eloquence  and  pathos 
[hat  drew  tears  from  most  of  his  hearers;  and  the  mediation  of  the 
princes  of  the  empire  induced  the  emperor  to  accept  as  ransom,  one 
hundred  thousand  marks  of  silver. 

Meantime  the  ransom  was  collected  in  England,  Normandy,  and  Aqui- 
taine,  to  which  queen  Eleanora  largely  contributed.  When  the  ^rst 
instalment  was  ready,  this  affectionate  mother  and  the  chief  justiciary 
Rt  out  for  Germany,  a  little  before  Christmas.  Queen  Eleanora  was 
arcompanied  by  her  grand-daughter  Eleanora,  sumamed  the  Pearl  of 
Brittany.  This  young  princess  was  promised,  by  the  ransom-treaty,  in 
marriage  to  the  heir  of  Leopold  of  Austria.'  The  Cypriot  princess  was 
likewise  taken  from  the  keeping  of  queen  Berengaria,  on  the  demand  of 
the  emperor,  and  surrendered  to  her  German  relatives.* 

It  was  owing  to  the  exertions  of  the  gallant  Guelphic  princes,  his 
relations,  that  the  actual  liberation  of  Cceur  de  Lion  was  at  last  effected. 
Henry  the  Lion,  duke  of  Saxony,'  and  his  sons,  appeared  before  the  diet, 
end  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  Englisii  hero  with  the  most  passionate  elo- 
qvence ;  they  pledged  their  credit  for  the  payment  of  the  remainder  of 
hit  ransom,  and  actually  left  William  of  Winchester,  the  youngest 
Gaelphic  prince,  in  pawn  with  the  emperor,  for  the  rest  of  the  ransom. 

After  an  absence  of  four  years,  three  months,  and  nine  days,  king 
Richard  landed  at  Sandwich,  in  April,  the  Sunday  after  St  George's  day, 
ia  company  with  his  royal  mother,  who  had  the  pleasure  of  surrendering 
to  him  his  donunions,  both  insular  and  continental,  without  diminution. 

Eleanora's  detention  of  the  princess  Alice  in  Normandy,  had  drawn 
on  that  country  a  fierce  invasion  from  Philip  Augustus,  the  result  of 
which  would  have  been  doubtftil,  if  the  tears  of  Berengaria,  then  newly 
urived  in  Aquitaine,  had  not  prevailed  on  her  noble  brother,  Sancho  the 
Strong,  to  traverse  France  with  two  hundred  choice  knights.  By  the 
nJour  of  this  hero  and  his  chlvalric  reinforcement,  Normandy  was  deli- 
vered from  the  king  of  France.^ 

Berengaria,  during  the  imprisonment  of  her  royal  husband,  lost  her 
father,  Sancho  the  Wise,  king  of  Navarre,  who  died  in  1194,'  after  a 
glorious  reign  of  forty-four  years. 

After  a  second  coronation,  Richard  went  in  progress  throughout  Eng- 
lind,  with  his  royal  mother,  to  sit  in  judgment  on  those  castellans  who 
had  betrayed  their  fortresses  to  his  brother  John.  At  all  these  councils 
queen  Eleanora  assisted  him,  being  treated  by  her  son  with  the  utmost 
reverence,  and  sitting  in  state  at  his  right  hand. 

The  magnanimous  Cceur  de  Lion  treated  these  rebels  with  great 
lenity ;  and  when  prince  John,  on  the  arrival  of  the  king  at  Rouen,  ^ing 

'  The  marriago  was  aAerwards  broken. 

'She  was  the  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Austria's  sister;  hence  the  extreme 
hatred  borne  by  Leopold  to  Richard ;  he  considered,  and  not  tu reasonably,  that 
Richard  had  disinherited  his  niece.     The  emperor  Henry  was  her  first  cousin. 

'  Her  mi^esty  queen  Victoria  is  the  representatiye  of  this  great  and  generous 
pruice :  and  at  tlie  same  time,  from  his  wife,  Matilda,  eldest  daughter  of  Henry 
IL  derives  a  second  direct  descent  from  the  house  of  Plantagenet. 

•Tyrrell.  * Hittory  ol '((vraxi^. 


I 


32  SERefCOARIAOPKAVAIIRB. 

intrcxlucetl  by  queen  Eleanors^  knelt  at  his  brother's  feel  for  par^oni  (m 
raised  him,  with  this  remarkable  exprvpsion :  "  I  ftvgive  yon,  John,  aad 
I  wibIi  1  coald  as  eaaily  forget  your  oflence  as  yon  will  my  panJon." 

King  Richard  iinislied  his  progress  by  residing  some  inontlis  id  hii 
Angevin  lerritories.  Although  he  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  loringBtKl 
faithful  Berengaria,  he  did  not  r^um  to  hersoriety-  Tho  maaa  atttm 
estrangement  was,  that  ihe  kittg  had  renewed  his  connexion  with  a 
numher  of  profligate  and  worthless  tusociate*,  the  coinpanions  of  hi) 
long  baclielorhood  in  his  father's  lifetime.  His  conduct  at  this  tim«  iufi- 
niirly  scandalized  all  his  subjects,  as  he  abandoned  hitnseir  to  drinking 
and  great  infamy ;  for  which  rarious  virtuous  chiin^hmen  reproied  hin 
boldly,  to  their  eredit  be  it  spoken. 

"The  spring  of  1195,  Richard  was  hunting  in  one  of  bis  ffnnpa 
forests,'  when  he  was  met  by  a  hermit,  who  recoEDiscd  hiiu,  and  pcttdicd 
him  a  very  eloquent  sermon  on  his  irregular  lite,  linishing  by  prnpliMy- 
ing,  that  uutess  he  repented,  his  end  and  punishment  were  close  at  hand. 
The  king  answered  slightingly,  and  went  his  way ;  bnt  the  Eaeier  (<A- 
lowing  he  was  seized  with  a  moat  severe  illness,  which  threatened  to  bt 
&tal,  when  he  remembered  the  saying  of  the  henntt-prophet,  nml,  graUy 
alarmed,  he  began  to  repent  of  his  sins." 

Richard  sent  for  all  the  monks  within  ten  miles  round,  ami  made  pi^ 
lie  confession  of  his  iniquities,  vowiog,  withal,  that  if  queen  Berengarit 
would  forgive  him,  he  would  send  for  her,  and  nerer  forsake  her  agaia. 
When  he  recovered,  these  good  resolutions  were  strvngtheneil  by  ad 
interview  he  had  with  an  English  biahop. 

When  Richard  first  parted  from  the  queen,  he  quarrelled  with  At  vi^ 
luous  Sl  ilugh,  bishop  of  Lincoln,  on  the  old  ground  of  enenilg  a 
simoniacal  tribute  on  the  installation  of  the  prelaie  into  his  see.  Wflung 
to  evade  the  direct  charge  of  selling  the  see,  king  Richard  intitnated  ifaU 
a  present  of  a  fur  mantle,  worth  a  thousand  marks,  might  be  the  eooH 
position.  St.  Hugh  said  he  was  no  Judge  of  such  gauds,  and  thertCM 
sent  the  king  a  thousand  marks,  declaring,  if  he  would  deronr  Uu  reti- 
nue devoted  to  the  poor,  he  must  have  his  wilful  way.  Kichard  poA- 
eted  Uie  money,  but  some  time  aller  sent  for  ilie  fur  mantle  Sl.  Hath 
set  out  for  Normandy,  to  remonstrate  with  the  king  on  this  double  ei 
tortion.  His  friends  anticipated  that  he  would  be  killed',  but  Sl  [liuh 
said,  "  I  fear  him  not,"  and  boldly  entered  the  chapel  where  Richard  <n* 
at  mass,  when  the  following  scene  took  place. 

"Give  me  the  embrace  of  peace,  my  son,"  said  St.  Hugh. 

"That  you  have  not  deserved,"  replied  the  king. 

"  Indeed  I  have,"  said  St.  Hugh,  "  for  1  hare  made  a  long  joamev  m 
purpose  to  see  my  son." 

So  saying,  he  look  hold  of  the  king's  sleeve,  and  drew  him  on  om 
Kidc-  Kichard  smiled,  and  embraced  the  old  man.  They  withdreS  IC 
the  recess  behind  the  altar,  and  sat  down. 

•*  In  what  atate  is  your  conscience  ^"  asked  the  biabof). 

'  Tytrell.  from  a  Qitonicle  by  Rigf'd-  Maitie  Rigord  wai  oii^iiiallr  a  ■i«fiii 
man;  Jir  wa>  ilie  contemporBrj  of  kinR  Ricbud  anil  kiugJcdiit.  Hli  cSuiai^ 
it,  tro  ihinic,  among  tUoM  edited  by  Qiuhh. 


BBRBNGARIA    OF    NAVAKRB  23 

•*  Very  ewy,"  answered  the  king. 

**  How  can  that  he,  my  son,"  said  the  hishop,  **  when  you  live  apart 
from  your  virtuous  queen,  and  are  faithless  to  her — when  you  devour 
the  provision  of  the  poor,  and  load  your  people  with  heavy  exactions  ? 
Are  these  light  transgressions,  my  son  ?" 

The  king  owned  his  faults,  and  promised  amendment ;  and  when  he 
related  this  conversation  to  his  courtiers,  he  added : 

^  Were  all  our  prelates  like  Hugh  of  Lincoln,  both  king  and  barons 
must  submit  to  their  righteous  rebukes  P' ' 

Whether  the  interview  with  St.  Hugh  took  place  before,  or  after,  the 
king's  alarming  illness,  we  have  no  data  to  declare ;  but  as  Richard  was 
evidently  in  a  tamer  state,  when  St  Hugh  visited  him,  than  when  he 
hwlessly  demanded  the  fur  mantle,  we  think  the  good  bishop  must  have 
arrived  opportunely,  just  as  Richard  was  beginning  to  foiget  his  sick-bed 
vows,  without  quite  relapsing  into  his  original  recklessness. 

The  final  restoration  of  Berengaria  to  the  afiections  of  her  royal  hus- 
band, took  place  a  few  months  ttfler,  when  Richard  proceeded  to  Poic- 
tiers,*  where  he  was  reconciled  to  his  queen,  and  kept  Christmas,  and 
the  new  year  of  1196,  in  that  city,  with  princely  state  and  hospitality 
It  was  a  year  of  great  scarcity  and  famine,  and  the  beneficent  queen  ex- 
erted her  restored,  influence  over  the  heart  of  the  king,  by  persuading 
him  to  give  all  his  superfluous  money  in  bountiful  alms  to  the  poor^  and 
through  her  goodness  many  were  kept  from  perishing.  From  that  time 
queen  Berengaria  and  king  Richard  were  never  parted.  She  found  it 
best  to  accompany  hun  in  all  his  campaigns,  and  we  find  her  with  him 
at  the  hour  of  his  death. 

Higden,  in  the  Polychronichon,  gives  this  testimony  to  the  love  that 
Berengaria  bore  to  Richard :  ^  The  king  took  home  to  him  his  queen 
Berengaria,  whose  society  he  had  for  a  long  time  neglected,  though  she 
were  a  royal,  eloquent,  and  beauteous  lady,  and  for  his  love  had  ventured 
with  him  through  the  world." 

The  same  year  the  king,  despairing  of  heirs  by  his  consort,  sent  for 
young  Arthur,  duke  of  Bretagne,  that  the  boy  might  be  educated  at  his 
court,  as  future  king  of  England.  His  mother  Constance,  out  of  enmity 
to  queen  Eleanora,  unwisely  refused  this  request,  and  she  finished  her 
folly  by  declaring  for  the  king  of  France,  then  waging  a  fierce  war 
against  Richard.  This  step  cost  her  hapless  child  his  inheritance,  and 
finally  his  life.  From  this  time  Richard  acknowledged  his  brother  John 
as  his  heir. 

The  remaining  three  years  of  Richard's  life  were  spent  in  petty  pro- 
vincial wars  with  the  king  of  France.  In  one  of  his  treaties,  the  prin- 
cew  Alice  was  at  last  surrendered  to  her  brother,  who  gave  her,  with  a 
tarnished  reputation,  and  the  dowry  of  the  county  of  Ponthieu,  in  mar- 
riage to  ihB  count  of  Aumerle,  when  she  had  arrived  at  her  thirty-fifth 
year. 

After  the  reconciliation  between  Richard  and  Berengaria,  the  royal 
levennet  arising  from  the  tin-mines  in  Cornwall'  and  Devon,  valued  at 

*  Rigord,  Fieooh  Chron.  *  HYm^i"  t  ¥  CB\et«L« 


34  BEEE^OARtA    OP    KAVARRE. 

Vmu  ihoussnd  marks  per  arinum,  were  confirmeJ  to  thfi  queen,  for  Iwr 
dower.  Her  continental  dower  wtia  the  rity  ol*  Bigorre  in  Aquitaine, 
maii  ihe  whole  cnunly  of  3Iaiu. 

ll  wu  the  lively  iroa^HBiion  of  Richard,  healed  by  the  ^eodid  fic- 
tions of  Arabian  romance,  ihal  hurried  him  to  hie  end.  A  report  ww 
brouebt  to  him,  tliat  a  peasaat,  ploughing  in  the  fielda  of  Vidomw,  lonl 
of  Cluiluz  in  .^quitaiiie,  had  struck  upon  a  trap-door  which  concealed  an 
eiichauled  treasure,'  and  going  down  into  a  cave,  discovered  aevtnl 
golden  statues,  witli  vases  fuU  of  diamonds,  all  of  wbich  had  been 
secured  in  the  castle  ofChalux,  for  tlie  private  use  of  the  eteur  de  Vido- 
inar.  Riehanl,  when  he  heard  (his  fine  lale,  sent  to  Vidomu,  deinu>d- 
ing,  as  sovereign  of  the  cauntr)',  his  slwre  of  the  golden  statues.  The 
poor  caatelian  declared  that  no  such  treasure  had  been  fouiid  ;  nothing 
but  a  pot  of  Roman  coins  had  been  discovered,  and  tboee  he  was  wel- 
come to  have- 
As  Richard  iiad  set  his  mind  on  golden  stalnes  and  vases  of  diatnonils. 
aw)  had  thriven  so  well  when  he  demanded  the  golden  furniture  bom 
king  Tancred,  it  was  not  probable  he  could  lower  his  ideas  to  the  reality 
Slated  by  the  unroriunale  lord  of  Vidomar.  Accordingly,  lie  tii«rclied  M 
besiege  the  casUe  of  Chaluz,  sending  word  to  Vidomax,  eilhei  to  deliver 
the  statues,  or  abide  the  storming  of  the  castle.  To  this  siege  quan 
Berengaria  sccoropauied  the  king.  Here  Richard  met  his  death,  bwf 
pierced  from  the  walU,  by  an  arrow  from  an  arbalista,  or  rrocs-bov, 
aimed  by  the  hand  of  Bcrtiaud  de  Gordon.'  It  was  the  noekilfulnu*  U 
the  surgeon,  who  mangled  the  king's  shoulder  in  cutting  out  tlie  anoiTi 
Joined  to  Richard's  own  wilfulness  in  neglecting  the  r^men  of  bis  phy- 
sicians, that  caused  the  mortification  of  a  trifling  wound,  and  occasioDol 
llie  death  of  a  hero  who,  to  many  faults,  joined  a  redeeming  generutiiy, 
that  showed  itself  in  his  last  moments.  After  enduring  great  agony  ligii 
liis  wound,  as  he  drew  near  to  death,  the  castle  of  Chaluz  was  lakea. 
He  caused  Bertrand  de  Gordon  to  be  brought  before  bio),  and  telling  hiffl 
he  was  dying,  asked  him  whether  he  had  discharged  the  &tal  arrow  with 
the  intention  of  slaying  him. 

"  Yea,  tyrant,"  replied  Gordon  ;  "  for  to  you  I  owe  the  deaths  of  laj 
fuiiier  and  my  brother,  and  my  first  wish  was  to  be  revenged  on  yon-" 
Notwithstanding  the  boldness  of  this  avowal,  the  dying  kinx  cdB* 
manded  Gordon  to  be  set  at  libert}-,  and  it  was  not  his  fault  uat  Ui 
detestable  mercenary  general,  the  Fleming,  Marcade,  caused  lum  M  it 
put  to  a  cruel  death. 

Richard's  death  took  pbce  April  6th,  1199.  Uis  queen  DnqnMioB- 
ably  was  with  him  when  he  died.'  She  corroborated  iJie  lestimonyltial 
he   lelV  his  domioioiis,  and    two-thirds  of  his  treasuies,  to  bis  brother 

Richard  appears  to  have  borne  some  personal  resembtanoe  to  hi* 
great  ancle,  William  Rufus.     Like  him,  bis  hair  and  complexioa  «Rt 

'BcomplOQ.     Nswbiirr,     Hsnuningrord  and  Wlkes. 

*  We  And  the  tame  or  Gordon  among  tbe  inOammatory  sirrenies  or  >  —■* 
ds  Born.  ,  -      _ 


BXftXNOAKIA    OF    RATAKKX.  35 

Winn  in  edour,  and  his  eyes  blue,  and  fiercely  sparkling.  Like  Rufus, 
his  strength  was  prodigious,  but  he  had  the  advantage  of  a  tall  majestic 
figure.'  There  are  some  points  of  resemblance  in  character,  between 
Richard  and  bis  collateral  ancestor,  though  Richard  must  be  considered 
a  more  learned  and  elegant  prince,  and  susceptible,  withal,  of  more  fre- 
quent impulses  of  generosity  and  penitence.  They  both  seem  to  have 
excelled  in  the  same  species  of  wit  and  lively  repaitee. 

At  the  time  of  king  Richard's  death,  Matthew  Paris  declares  queen 
Eleanora,  his  mother,  was  governing  England,  ^  where,"  adds  that  his- 
torian, ^  she  was  exceedingly  respected  and  beloved." 

Before  the  body  of  CoBur  de  Lion  was  committed  to  the  grave,  an 
additional  load  of  anguish  assailed  the  heart  of  his  royal  widow,  through 
the  calamities  that  befel  Joanna,  her  friend,  and  Richard's  favourite  sis- 
ter. The  persecution  on  account  of  religion,  that  afterwards  visited 
Joanna's  gallant  son,  in  the  well-known  war  against  the  Albigenses,  had 
already  attacked  his  father  incipiently.  Owing  to  the  secret  agitations 
of  the  catholic  clerffy,  the  barons  of  Thonlouse  were  in  arms  against 
the  gallant  Rajrmond.  Queen  Joanna,  though  in  a  state  little  consistent 
with  each  exertions,  flew  to  arms  for  the  relief  of  her  adored  lord.  We 
translate  the  following  mournful  passage  from  Guillaume  de  Puy-Lau- 
rens  ^ — ^  Qpeen  Joanna  was  a  woman  df  great  courage,  and  was  highly 
sensitive  to  the  injuries  of  her  husband.  She  laid  siege  to  the  castle  of 
Cesser,  but,  owing  to  the  treachery  of  her  attendants,  her  camp  was 
fired.  She  escaped  with  difficulty  from  the  burning  tents,  much  scorched 
and  hurt  Unsubdued  by  this  accident,  she  hastened  to  lay  her  wrongs 
before  her  beloved  brother  king  Richard.  She  found  he  had  just  expired 
as  she  airived.  The  pains  of  premature  child-birth  seized  her  as  she 
heard  the  dire  intelligence,  and  she  sank  under  the  double  afiliction  of 
mental  and  corporeal  agony.  With  her  last  breath  she  begged  to  be 
laid  near  her  brother  Richard."  To  Berengaria  the  request  was  made, 
and  the  cold  remains  of  the  royal  brother  and  sister,  the  dearest  objects 
of  the  sorrowing  queen's  aflections,  were  laid,  by  her  pious  care,  side  by 
side,  in  the  stately  abbey  of  Fontevraud.'  The  heart  of  Richard  was 
bequeathed  by  him,  to  be  buried  in  the  cathedral  of  Rouen,  where  it  has 
lately  been  exhumed,  in  1842.  When  the  case  was  unclosed,  the  lion- 
heart  was  found  entire,  but  withered  to  the  consistency  of  a  faded  leaf.^ 

The  deaths  of  Richard  and  Joanna  were  immediately  succeeded  by 
that  of  Berengaria's  only  sister,  Blanche.  This  princess  had  been  given 
in  marriage,  ^  CoBur  de  Lion,  to  his  nephew  and  friend,  the  troubadoup- 

>  ViniMof.  *  Gaizot's  Chnmicles,  vol.  zv.  p.  919. 

'  The  desoriptkm  of  Richard*s  statue  has  been  given  by  Miss  L.  S.  Costello  in 
her  reeent  charmiog  work,  entitled,  **  The  Boccages  and  the  Vines."  It  coincides 
well  with  the  descriptions  we  have  given  of  his  person,  from  his  contemporary 
Vinisaud 

*This  is  fVom  a  most  interesting  description  of  the  exhumation  of  Richard's 
heart,  by  Mr.  Albert  Way,  in  vol.  xxix.  Archslogia,  p.  210 ;  where  may  be  Ibuna 
a  eopy  of-  the  inscription  identifying  it  as  the  heart  of  Richard,  and  likewise  an 
•eooant  of  the  discovery  of  a  fine  portrait  statue,  raised  by  the  men  of  Rouen  to 
fhe  memory  of  their  beloved  heia 

VOL.  II.  —  3 


I 


I 


iiij  BI:RE.\C  ARIA    UF    »AVARBK. 

prince,  Tliibaut  or  ChampBgiie.  Tlie  princess  Blanche  died  the  6aj 
after  tiie  birth  of  a  ion,  who  aAerwitrJa  woi  the  heir  both  o(  Soncha 
and  Berengaria,  aod  fiaally  kuig  of  Kavarre.  Thus,  iu  the  coiirve  nf  a 
few  short  weeks,  was  tlie  queen  of  England  bereft  of  all  that  were  tmr 
and  dear  to  her.  The  woild  had  become  a  desert  to  Bereugaria  before 
Bhe  left  it  for  a  life  of  conventual  seclusion. 

Queen  Berengaria  lixed  her  residence  at  Mans  in  the  Orleaniioiis  when 
*he  held  a  great  part  of  her  foreign  dower.  Here  she  founded  the  noble 
abbey  of  L'Espan. 

Once  queen  Berengaria  lefl  her  widowed  retirement,  when  sha  met 
her  broth er-in-^aw,  king  John,  and  his  fair  joung  bride,  at  Cliinon.  her 
husband's  treasure  city.  Here  she  compounded  with  the  LiigUBli  rooa- 
arfh,  for  the  dower  ahe  held  in  En^and,  for  two  ihousoad  marks  pti 
annum,  to  be  paid  half-yearly.  After  being  entertained  witJi  rnyal  mi^ 
ciliceiice,  and  receiving  every  mark  of  respect  from  the  £n;gli>h  conn, 
the  royal  widow  bade  farewell  to  public  splendour,  and  retired  to  coi^ 
ventual  seclusion,  and  ilie  practice  of  constant  charity.  Bui  do  soouet 
was  John  fixed  firmly  on  tlic  English  throne,  tlion  he  began  to  ae^ea 
Ute  payment  of  the  dower  for  which  liis  sister-in-law  had  compo 
and,  in  1206,  there  appears  in  the  Fcedera  a  passport  for  the 
dowager  to  come  to  Engiand,  for  the  purpose  of  conferring  witli 
John;  but  there  esiats  no  nuihority  whereby  we  can  prove  "'  ' 
arrived  in  this  country. 

The  records  of  1209  present  a  most  elaborate  epistle  from  pope  Ibimk 
cent,  selling  forth  the  wrongs  and  wants  of  his  dear  daughter  in  Qina, 
Berengaria,  who,  he  says,  had  appealed  to  him  "  with  Hoods  <^  MO 
si  reaming  down  her  cheeks,  anil  with  audible  cries," — which  we  Unit 
were  flowers  of  rhetoric  of  the  pope's  seerelary.'  As  pope  Innocsai 
threatens  John  with  an  interdict,  it  is  pretty  certain  that  the  wrong*  ot 
Berengaria  formed  a  clause  in  the  subsequent  cscommutiicjUion  of  tbs 
felon  king. 

In  1214,  when  the  excommuuicsiion  was  taken  off,  there  exiotai  In- 
ter from  John  to  "  his  dear  sifter,  the  illustrious  Berengaria,  Pi^dm 
dial  the  pope's  nuncio  might  arbitrate  what  was  due  lo  hor."  Tne  Htf 
year  brings  a  piteous  letter  from  John,  praying  lliat  his  deariy  httont 
sister  will  excuse  his  delay  of  payment,  seeing  ihe  -  greainsM  of  U 
adversity  by  reason  of  the  wickedness  of  his  magnates  and  bvons,"  wbs 
had  invited  prince  Louis  of  Fraiice  to  spoil  her  estates;  "but  rnhml" 
says  king  John,  "  these  clouds  that  have  overcast  our  serenity  shall  ito- 
pei^e,  B[id  our  kingdom  he  full  of  joj'ful  tranquillity,  then  the  pccnitiuy 
debt  owed  lo  our  dear  sister  shall  be  paid  joyfully  and  thankfully." 

This  precious  epistle  was  penned  July  Sth,  1216,  by  John,  but  ba 
died  the  succeeding  October,  and  Berengaria's  debt  was  added  to  the  n> 
■nm  of  his  other  trespasses;  for  "joyful  tranquillity"  never  canwls' 
liim,  nor  of  course  her  time  of  payment. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  III.,  Berengaria  had  again  to  require  the  popt^ 
assistance,  for  tiie  payment  of  her  annuity.     Uer  ariesrv  at  tfaat  UC* 

'  Rymer,  FisJeia,  vol.  i,  p.  ISti. 


BERENGARIA    OF    NAVARRB.  27 

amounted  to  4040  Z.  sterling ;  but  the  Templars  became  guarantees  and 
agents  for  her  payments ;  and  from  that  time  the  pecuniary  troubles  of 
Berengaria  cease  to  form  a  feature  in  our  national  records. 

The  date  of  Berengaria's  death  has  generally  been  fixed  about  the 
year  1230 ;  but  that  was  only  the  year  of  the  completion  of  her  abbey 
of  Espan,  and  of  her  final  retirement  from  the  world ;  as  from  that  time 
she  took  up  her  abode  within  its  walls,  and  finished  there  her  blameless 
life,  at  an  advanced  age,  some  years  afterwards. 

Berengaria  was  interred  in  her  own  stately  abbey.  The  following 
most  interesting  particulars  of  her  monument,  we  transcribe  from  the 
noble  work  of  the  late  Mr.  Stothard,  edited  by  his  accomplished  widow, 
.Mrs.  Bray. 

^When  Mr.  Stothard  visited  the  abbey  of  L^pan,  near  Mans,  in 
search  of  the  effigy  of  Berengaria,  he  found  the  church  converted  into  a 
bam,  and  the  object  of  his  inquiry  in  a  mutilated  state,  concealed  under 
a  quantity  of  wheat  It  was  in  excellent  preservation,  with  the  exception 
of  the  left  arm.  By  the  effigy  were  lying  the  bones  of  the  queen,  the 
silent  witnesses  of  the  sacrilegious  demolition  of  the  tomb.  After  some 
search,  a  portion  of  the  arm  belonging  to  the  statue  was  recovered.'* 
Three  men  who  had  assisted  in  the  work  of  destruction  stated  ^  that 
the  monument  with  the  figure  upon  it  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  aisle,  at 
the  east  end  of  the  church ;  that  there  was  no  coffin  within  it,  but  a 
imall  square  box,  containing  bones,  pieces  of  linen,  some  stuff  embroi- 
dered with  gold,  and  a  slate,  on  which  was  found  an  inscription."  The 
ilate  was  found  in  possession  of  a  canon  of  the  church  of  St.  Julien,  at 
^lans:  upon  it  was  engraven  an  inscription,  of  which  the  following  is  a 
translation  :-^ 

*^The.  tomb  of  the  most  serene  Berengaria,  queen  of  England,  the 
Doble  founder  of  this  monastery,  was  restored  and  removed  to  this  more 
sacred  place.  In  it  were  deposited  the  bones  which  were  found  in  the 
ancient  sepulchre,  on  the  27th  May,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1672.'* 

The  sides  of  the  tomb  are  ornamented  with  deep  quatrefoils.  The 
effigy  which  was  upon  it  is  in  high  relief.  It  represents  the  queen  with 
her  hair  unconfined,  but  partly  concealed  by  the  coverchief,  over  which 
is  placed  an  elegant  crown.  Her  mantle  is  fastened  by  a  narrow  band 
crossing  her  breast;  a  large  fermail,  or  broach,  richly  set  with  stones, 
confines  her  tunic  at  the  neck.  To  an  ornamental  girdle,  which  encir- 
cles her  waist,  n  attached  a  small  aumoniere  or  purse.  This  greatly 
resemUes  a  modem  reticule,  with  a  chain  and  clasped  top.  '^  The  queen 
holds  in  her  hand  a  box,  singular  from  the  circumstance  of  its  having 
embossed  on  the  cover  a  second  representation  of  herself,  as  lying  on  a 
bier,  with  waxen  torches  burning  in  candlesticks  on  either  side  of  her.*' 

From  early  youth  to  her  grave,  Berengaria  manifested  devoted  love 
for  Richard ;  uncomplaining  when  deserted  by  him,  foigiving  when  he 
retomed,  and  ftithful  to  his  memory  unto  death,  the  royal  Berengaria, 
qoeen  of  England,  though  never  in  England,  little  deserves  to  be  foigot- 
leoy  by  any  admirer  of  feminine  and  conjugal  virtue. 


ISABELLA    OF  ANGOULkML.     ^t 

QUEEN    OF   KING    JOHN.                    ^M 

alvlooUKi  by  king  John— Marriage  id  king  John— Challeo«o  of  coiinl  Ba|^ 

Liuury— Cooclorion  of  Eleanora  of  AquiOiine'*  blograph/— B«iFgiBd— B 
liovod  by  ting  Jolin — Hb  capiures  count  Hugh — Denth  of  Eleanora— EOfT 

H,igh  to  Isoljella's  liiile  daughter— Royal  dress^-Murdci  of  M  vuUU  il,r  t, 
—John's  alrocitiei — Meeu  the  qufen  al  MarliionJiigh — SIil'    ■        ■            ^ 

b«r  wn— She  leavM  England- MartiF.  eoum  Hugh— Depr.  > 

bfoili  hai  hutband  in  war— Atleropu  die  life  of  Si.  Louif  —   ! 

Takw  llie  veil— Dies— Tomb— Elfigy— Children  of  second  inairiiigo. 

No  one  would  have  imagined  ihal  Isabella  Angoul^ioe  was  tlei^ 

Ihrnne;  for  she  was  then  not  only  ilie  pngnged  wife  of  another,  be 
according  lo  the  custom  of  ihe  limes,  hadlteen  actually  cooaigned  ' 
her  betrothed,  for  Ihe  purpose  of  education. 

Hugh  de  Lusignan,  sumamed  Le  Brun,'  was  ihe  affianced  lotd.of  li 
belta.   He  was  eldest  son  of  Hugh  )X.,  the  reigning  count  de  ]»  Jifamk 
who  governed  the  provinces  which  formed  ihe  northern  boDwIiry  of  l| 
Aquitanian  dominions,  called  in  that  age  French  Poilou.     Re  «ai 
vassal  prince  of  the  French  crown,  and,  by  virine  of  bis  kuthnri^,! 

ban  and  am'er(  Sun,  and  pour  on  tliem  the  whole  feudal  mUiiift  of 
large  portion  of  France. 

conciliating  thia  powerful  neighbour.    She  had  been  forced,  at  ibc  ilai 
of  Richard,  lo  do  homage  at  Tours,'  in  person,  to  Philip  Au^iituf,fil 
Poitoo,  1199;   and  by  her  wise  mediation  she  reconciled  John  M 
Philip,  negoiialing  an  alliance  between  prince  Louis  and  her  piai 

' "  Hugli,"  say.  G.  de  N«Ilgi^  "  wbom  iho  people  of  the  liiile  town  of  Utmm 
would  «.!1  il.e  Bmwa,  was  a  noble  personage,  brave,  powerfiil.  ana  |«e«M 
rreal  rirlies."     Ho  did  not  own  the  Kbriqurl  of  Le  Brun.  bnl  li^t  himtrlf  Itait 
nan  in  bis  charten.                                                      'Guillaiune  de  Naafit. 

ISABELLA    OF    ANGOOLBMC.  29 

IftDctie  of  Caslille.  She  even  travelled  lo  Spain,  and  was 
e  splendid  marria^  of  her  granddaughter,  who  was  wedded 

prince  Louis  by  procnralion.  Al'terwards  her  daughier,  the 
tin,  accompanied  her  across  the  Pyrenees,  with  the  young 
native  territories  of  Guienne.  Queen  Eleanors  intended  to 
be  to  Normandy,  where  prince  Louia  waited  for  them.'  but 
with  fatigue,  and  retreated  to  Fonlevraud,  towards  the  cIobb 
I9S.  In  a  letter  written  by  heron  her  recovery,  she  informs 
■that  she  had  been  very  ill,  but  that  she  hail  sent  for  her 
Bin,  Amcricus  de  Thouara,  from  Poitou ;  that  she  was  much 
f  his  presence,  and  through  God's  grace  she  was  convaler- 
En  Eleanora  then  proceeds  lo  urge  her  son  to  visit  Jmuie- 
foictevin  provinces,  and,  for  the  sake  of  their  peace  and 

ite  desires  him  lo  form  an  amicable  league  with  the  count 

le  is  dated  Fontevraud,  1200,  and  was  the  occasion  of  king 
ress  to  Aquilnine,  in  the  Hummer;  but  little  did  the  writer 
t,  before  the  year  was  expired,  the  whole  powerful  family  of 
puld  be  exaspemled,  by  king  John's  lawless  appropriation 
wedded  lo  the  heir  of  their  house* 

«s  ihe  only  child  and  heiress  of  Aymer  or  Americus,  count 
KiBDrnamed  Tailiefer.  By  malernal  dcsceni  she  sliarei!  the 
l>  Cbpetian  sovereigns,  her  mother,  Alice  de  Courtenay,  being 

Lof  Poter  de  Courtenay,  lifth  son  of  Louis  VI.  king  (? 
inherilance  of  Isabella  was  a  beautiful  province,  caDed  the 
'■itnaJed  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Aquilanian  domains ;  with 
the  south,  Poilou  on  ihe  north,  Ssintonge  on  the  west,  and 
I  on  the  east.  The  Angoumois,  watered  by  the  clear  and 
iar«nie,  abounded  in  all  the  richest  aliments  of  life;  allo- 
t  &ir  and  desirable  as  its  lieiress.  The  ProvenQnl  language 
Ira  spoken  throughout  the  district;  Isabella  of  Angoulfme 
K  be  Kckoned  the  third  of  our  Proveiifnt  queens,  Thn 
which  she  was  heiress,  had  been  governed  by  her  anceelon, 
te  reign  of  Charles  llie  Bald. 

ru  actually  abiding  at  one  of  tlic  castles  of  her  betrolhod,* 
MDia  sent  for  her,  to  be  present  al  a  day  of  high  ceremo- 
di  they  paid  ihcir  homage  to  king  John  for  the  province  of 
'  Indeed,  it  may  be  considered  certain  that  ihe  young  Is^ 
M.U.Si9,SlB. 

H.  L  Th*  IaiJd  1fII«  of  the  nged  qaeen  is  [ifecedpd  by  Bnolbsr 
W.  uniJng  ihe  ™mo  advice,  and  pving  an  sirouni  of  Ihe  hoahh  Of 
nramitn.  The  concluaioB  of  ihe  liTe  of  Elennora  t>r  Aquiniine  is 
nil  Uographir. 

KMOMlinf  M  All  gpoflalofrief,  was  b[Ivs  long  nfler  hii  tan't  h«lrolh- 
Bb.    Us  borrA  Uivn  of  Inbella  iBrTccnliHl  hii  faibrr,  by  Ui«  dlle 


Itntoa.    Dr.  Hanrjr  astern  tha  tame,  and  givM  Hovetlen  awl  M 


I 


heiself,  ss  iheir  sole  heir,  was  required  lo  pay  her  peraonal  honuifc  lii 
her  lurJ  psraniounL,  as  ituke  of  Aquilaine.  Her  betrotlieil  yiag  abtuii 
but  ihp  count  of  Eu,  bis  brother,  surrendered  the  fair  heiress,  nt  l)u 
request  of  tier  parents.  He  waa  deceived  '  by  ilie  message  uf  the  cuuni 
of  Angoulfme,  and  incurred  great  blame,  as  if  he  had  trsacbcrotuly  tut- 
rendered  the  young  bride  o^  his  brother;  but,  vbo  could  deny  dtf 
parents  the  pleasure  of  enjoying  the  society  of  their  child  ? 

It  was  at  the  high  fesiiral  of  king  John's  recognition  in  AngoaUmc. 
aa  sovereign  of  Aquilaine,  that  the  Ejighah  king  tirst  «aw  the  bcauiilvl 
ftanc^e  of  Luaignan.  He  was  ihirty-lwo;  she  had  jual  enterrd  htr 
fifieenlh  year ;  notwithstanding  which  disparity,  he  become  niDdlv  em* 
nioured  of  her.  Tlie  parents  of  Isabella,  when  ihey  perceiveo  their 
sovereign  thus  captivated  with  her  budding  charms,  ilishoaouiaUy 
encouraged  his  passion,  and  by  deceitful  excuses  to  ihe  count  of  Eo, 
prevented  lite  return  of  Isabella  to  the  castle  of  Valence  ;  a  proeeetjing 
the  mure  infamous,  since  subsequent  events  plainly  showed  thai  tti* 
heart  of  the  maiden  secretly  preferred  her  betrothed. 

Had  John  Plautugenet  remained  in  the  same  state  of  poverty  aa  wliio 
his  father  surnamed  him  Lackland,  the  fierce  Hugh  de  Lusipisn  nii^ 
have  retained  his  beautiful  bride ;  hut  at  tlie  time  liia  fancy  trat  capD- 
vatetl  by  Isabella,  her  parents  saw  bim  universally  rect^ised  ai  lb 
possessor  of  the  first  empire  in  Europe.  They  had  jusi  done  IiooNfl 
(o  him  as  the  monarch  of  the  south  of  France,  and  they  knew  he  M 
received  the  elective  snSrages  of  the  English  people,  in  prvferenc*  W 
the  hereditary  right  of  his  nephew  Arthur ;  that  he  had  I>een  acuaSf 
crowned  king  of  England,  and  that  bis  brow  hai!  been  circleil  wiA  nt 
duplet  of  golden  roues  which  fonncd  the  ducal  coronet  of  Nortnan^f. 

John  was  already  married  to  a  lady  who  had  neither  been  crnwM 
with  him,  nor  acknowledged  queen  of  England ;  yet  she  appean  tl 
have  been  the  bride  of  his  fickle  choice.    The  son  of  hi*  gu-m  urn-It. 
Robert  earl  of  Gloucester,'  had  left  lliree  daughters,  ccr-lii  ^.  --  - 
vaal  possessintM.    The  youth  and  beauty  of  Aviso,  the  \i< 
sisters,  induced  prince  John  lo  woo  her  as  his  wife.    The 
place  at  Richard^s  coronation,  but  the  church  forbade   tliu  ;  . 
together.' 

The  pope,  who  had  previously  comtnanded  the  divorce  of  ATin  6i> 
John,  because  the  empress  Matilda  and  Robert  earl  of  OloottMef  W 
been  half  brother  and  sbter,  now  murmured  at  the  brok<m  cooliaetV' 
iween  Isabella  and  the  heir  of  Ltisignan ;  but  as  this  betrothnuDi  4Ni 
not  seem  lo  have  been  accompanied  by  any  vow  or  promise  on  thajM 
of  the  bride,  his  opposition  was  vain. 

The  lady  Isabella,  as  much  dazzled  as  her  parents  by  the  splndw 
of  the  triple  crowns  of  England,  Normandy,  and  Aquitatae,  wcnilil  >dI 
acknowledge  that  she  had  consented  lo  any  maniiM^  coatrvct  v^ 
count  Hugh.     As  Isabella  preferred  being  a  queen  to  giving  her  band  W 

'8ee  the  Chtoniole  of  Willinin  le  Breton.     GuUoi  t  FrcDcb  CollaolitB. 


'a  deaeeai,  u  itiicUy  ai 


I8ABBLLA    OF    ANOOULEMB.  31 

the  man  she  really  loved,  no  one  could  riglit  the  wrongs  of  the  ill- 
tmted  Liwignan.  Moreover,  the  mysterious  chain  of  feudality  inter- 
wove ita  inextricable  links  and  meshes  even  round  the  sacrament  of 
marriage.  King  John,  as  lord  paramount  of  Aquitaine,  could  have  ren- 
dered invalid  any  wedlock  that  the  heiress  of  the  Angoumois  might 
contract  without  his  consent ;  he  could  have  forbidden  his  fair  vassalcss 
to  marry  the  subject  of  king  Philip,  and  if  slie  ]iad  remained  firmly  true 
to  her  first  love,  he  could  have  declared  her  fief  forfeited,  for  disobe- 
dinice  to  her  immediate  lord.* 

Ring  John  and  Isabella  were  married  at  Bordeaux,  some  time  in  the 
month  of  August,  1200.  Their  hands  were  united  by  the  archbishop 
of  Bordeaux,  who  had  previously  held  a  synod,  assisted  by  the  bishop 
of  Poitoo,  and  solemnly  declared  that  no  impediment  existed  to  the 


This  event  threw  connt  Hugh  of  Lusignan  into  despair ;  he  did  not, 
however,  quietly  submit  to  the  destruction  of  his  hopes,  but  challenged  to 
BK)rtal  combat  the  royal  interloper  between  him  and  his  betrothed.' 
lohn  received  the  cartel  with  remarkable  coolness,  saying,  that  if  count 
Hngh  wished  for  combat,  he  would  appoint  a  cliampion  to  fight  witli 
him ;  but  the  count  declared  that  John's  champions  were  hired  bravoes 
nd  vile  mercenaries,  unfit  for  the  encounter  of  a  wronged  lover  and 
Irae  knight.  Thus,  unable  to  obtain  satisfaction,  the  valiant  Marcher 
nited  his  hour  of  revenge ;  while  king  John  sailed  with  his  bride  in 
Hiomph  to  Elngland,  where  he  was  anxious  that  she  should  be  recognised 
11  his  wife,  not  oidy  by  the  peers,  but  by  the  people. 

For  this  purpose,  being  just  then  on  his  best  behaviour,  he  called 
that  the  chroniclers  term  **  a  common  council  of  the  kingdom^'  at  West- 
minster.    The  ancient  Wittena-gemot  seems  the  model  of  this  assembly 
flere  the  young  Isabella  was  introduced,  and  acknowledged  as  the  qucen- 
consort  of  England.    Her  coronation  was  appointed  for  the  8th  of  Oc- 
kber^  and  there  exists  a  charter  in  the  Tower,  expressing  ^^  that  Isabella 
of  Angoid^me  was  crowned  queen  by  the  common  consent  of  the 
barons,  clergy,  and  people  of  England."'    She  was  crowned  on  tliat  day 
by  the  archbishop  of  Ganterbury. 

Clement  Fitz-William  was  paid  thirty-three  shillings,  for  strewing 
Westminster  Hall  with  herbs  and  rushes,  against  the  coronation  of  lady 
Isabella  the  queen;  and  the  chamberlains  of  the  Norman  excliet^uer 
^ere  ordered  to  pay  Eustace  the  chaplain,  and  Ambrose  the  songster, 
twenty-6ve  shillings,  for  singing  the  hymn  Christus  rici/,  at  the  unction 
«nd  crowning  of  the  said  lady  queen.^  The  expenses  of  her  dress  at  this 
time  were  by  no  means  extravagant;  three  cloaks  of  fine  linen,  one  of 
■earlet  cloth,  and  one  gray  pelisse,  costing  together  twelve  pounds  five 
mnd  fourpence,  were  all  that  was  afforded  to  tlie  fair  Provencal  bride,  on 
this  august  occasion. 

The  whole  of  the  intervening  months,  between  October  and  Easter, 


BnctoD.    **  By  the  feiwlal  law,  any  woman  who  is  an  heir  forleita  her 
lands  if  she  marries  without  her  lord's  consent." 
*  Speea  t  Chronicle.  *  Boger  Hoveden.  *  Madoa. 


I 


n  ISABELLA    OF     ANQOULSUS. 

vreK  spent  by  the  king  and  queen,  in  a  ronlinual  round  of  fmiinf  ana 
vohiptuouMiesi.  Al  ifie  Easter  feslival  of  1201,  they  were  ilio  ^omh 
of  nrchbiahop  Hubert,  nt  Caalerbury,'  wher«  they  were  onco  man 
crowned,'  or  rather,  tliey  wore  their  crowns,  aerording  to  l)ic  wieim 
English  custom  at  this  high  TeaiivBl ;  it  beinf  the  offic«  oT  the  pnnntt 
of  England,  always  to  plaee  them  on  the  heads  of  the  kinf  and  qnm 
on  such  occasions,  when  he  was  abiding'  in  the  vicinity  of  royalty. 

Warx,  and  rumours  of  witra,  awoke  the  beoutiful  Isabella  and  kiaf 
John  from  their  dream  of  pleasure.  Tlie  ducbeas  Constance  of  BnHfW 
had  eloped  from  lier  liusband,  the  earl  of  Cheater,  and  marriwi  a  nlini 
Pojctcvin,  sir  Guy  of  Thoaars,*  who  showed  every  detnonnntion  of 
suecfiBsfully  asserting  the  claims  of  his  son-in-bw,  young  Aithitr  Ha* 
tagenet,  for  whose  cause  Anjou  and  Maine  had  already  declared.  Addd 
to  this  alarming  intelligence,  was  the  news  that  Lusignan  and  his  broihtr, 
the  count  of  Eu,  were  conspiring  with  the  family  of  firriaipe,  nt 
raising  insunections  in  Poilou,  to  avenge  the  abdaciioo  of  k^tella  ol 
Angoul£me. 

These  troubles  caused  Isabella  and  her  husband  to  eisbBrk  at  PmM- 
moiiih  for  Normandy.  Ring  John  sailed  in  a  separata  gaUry  tnm  dR 
queen,  and  in  stress  of  weather  ran  for  the  Isle  of  Wight,  a  pUee  of  i^ 
tireraeut  where  John  often  abode  for  months  togetlier.  -  The  <tOMrfl 
ship  was  m  the  greatest  distress,  but  at  last  made  the  port  of  Btttimi 
where  king  John  Ibund  Isabella  waiting  his  arrival. 

The  conspiracy,  of  which  the  disappointed  lover  of  Isabella  was  iht 
niover,  was  somewhat  retarded  by  the  death  of  the  duehese  ConctuU^ 
of  Brelagne,  in  1201,  soon  after  the  birth  of  her  tbiid  child,  the  princn 
Alice,  who  was  finally  the  heiress  of  the  duchy. 

King  John,  regardless  of  the  tempest  tliat  still  mutterfid  sroDnd  htBi 
established  himself  at  Rouen,  and  gave  way  to  a  career  of  inilolat  v» 
luptuouanese,  little  in  accordance  with  the  restless  activity  of  liia 
nobility.  In  that  era.  when  five  in  the  morning  was  th«  eu 
breokfast-time,  and  half-past  ten  in  the  forenoon  the  onhodoi 
hour,  for  alt  ranks  and  conditions  of  men.  the  court  were  scandi 
finding  that  king  John  never  lefl  his  pillow  before  mjd-dav,  at  wUik 
lime  his  barons  saw  him,  with  coDiejnpt,  issuing  from  the  ebamAtcJ 
the  fair  Isabella.'  This  mode  of  life  made  him  Ibr  man  UDpopaltr,B 
the  iliirleenth  century,  than  the  perpetration  of  a  few  more  uurden  Ml 
,  abductions,  like  (hose  with  which  his  memory  stands  already  divpA 
His  young  queen  shared  some  of  this  blame,  as  tlie  enchanlKei  «rfa»  ■ 
kept  hira  chained  in  her  bowers  of  lusury.  The  roy»l  ptkir  paid, ' 
ever,  some  alieiition  to  the  fine  arts,  for  the  magnificent  mooaie  fmn 
of  the  jialace  of  Houen,  was  laid  down  while  the  queen  kept  bcr  i 
ihere."' 

Eleanora  of  Aquitaine — now  advancing  into  her  ei^nlMh  ytat- 

■TrrtBll. 

*  AiEenne,  Brvion  ITut.  Tba  dJMoniolBU  widowluioilorCtoncmaMaio*^  I 
in  llie  po^ea  of  fiction. 

'Aigeaue.  *  Horeden  and  H.  Paris. 


ronno  an, 

doleatv^  I 

tiis  ivariib  J 

eaablMtat  \ 

01  dinM^  r 


AOELLA    OF    AHOOULC^IE.  33 

I  on  ihe  areua  of  Europe.     Al'tcr  resigning  lier  vite- 

I  EiigUoiJ '  iuiu  the  builds  of  king  John,  sbe  had  sMumeJ  ilje 

her  lulive  dominiuus,  and  was  then  governing  Aquitainc, 

ti  ■  peace  estabtistimenL,  in  perfect  security,  bI  her  summer 

'  el,  in  Poitou ;  when  cuuiit  Mugh  de  LusignaOi  joining  his 

me  of  young  Arthur  of  Brelagae,  suddenly  laid  iiege  to 

I  of  the  aged  queen.     This  tvaa  a  plan  of  count  Hugit'o 

a  meant,  if  Eleanora  had  been  captured,  to  have  exchanged 

•  lost  spouse.    But  Eleanora,  after  they  had  stormed  the  (own, 

beraelf  lo  the  cit&del  of  Mirabel,  from  whose  loAy  heights  she 

■t  their  ellbrta;  she  ecat  to  her  son  fur  speedy  aid,  and,  with  a 

jfiiaaa  and  scanty  provisions,  held  out  heroically  till  his  arrival. 

upad  once  only,  did  itie  recreant  John  prove  hintaelf  of  '^  the 

IB  of  gre«t  Plantagcuet."    When  he  heard  of  his  mother's  danger, 

•d  FruicB  with  lightning  speed,  and  arriving  unexpectedly  be- 

1,  bi«  force*  hemmed  in  count  Uugh  and  duke  Arthur,  between 

pnd  citadel.     His  enemies  had  reckoned  on  hie  character  as  a 

id  faineaia  knight,  but  they  reckoned  in  vain ;  tie  gave  them 

t  on  his  arrival,  and  overthrew  them  with  an  utter  defeat, 

s  hii  rival  in  love,  count  Hugh,  and  his  rival  in  empire, 

r,  together  with  four.«nd-twenly  of  the  principal  barons  of 

|o  had  risen  for  the  right  of  young  Arthur,  or  were  allies  of 

Ralph  of  Coggeshall  and  Matthew  Paris  declare  that  queen 

ibarged  her  son,  on  her  malediction,  not  to  harm  the  noble 

>iu  had  made  his  prisoner.    While  the  queen-mother  retained 

W,  John  contanted  himself  with  incarcerating  Arthur  in  the 

talaiw;  but  be  insulted  count  Hugh,  the  unfortunate  lover  of 

i  with  every  species  of  personal  indignity,  carrying  him,  and 

"  "xroiu  of  Poilou,  after  him  wherever  he  went,  "chained 

a  tumbril  carls  dmwn  by  oxen."    "  A  mode  of  travelling," 

tei^al  chronicler,  very  pathetically,  "to  which  they  were  not 

'  '*     la  this  manner  he  dragged  them  afWr  him,  till  he  made 

k  with  him  for  England.' 

■abella  must  have  exerted  her  uiroosi  influence,  to  save  tlie 

g  Lneignui  from  the  fate  of  his  fellow -prisoners,  for  two-and- 

■-jctevin  lords,  who  had  been  exhibited  with  count  Hugji  in  the 

ilarved  to  death  in  the  dungeons  of  Corfe  Castle,  by  tlie 

P.Kiog  John.*    The  lover  of  liubella,  positively  refusing  any 

D  to  tbe  abductor  of  liis  bride,  was  consigned  to  a  weary  con* 

B  the  donjon  of  Bristol  Castle,  at  the  same  time  with  John's 

a  prisoner,  Eleanor,  the  sister  of  Arthur,  suniamed  the  Pearl 


lut  %a  Ihs  righUul  heir,  for  frar  Cooilaiioe  should 
(I  dnriuft  hia  minoiitjr. 
r  Arn  deuila  Ihii  inoideni  aratlf  in  eimitkr  words. 
■  sad  Di.  Henif, 

9  tHppo«e  thai  this  unfortnnaw  XfXj,  oa  whom  tbs  lineal 
rrown  devolvHl,  took  the  vowa  allei  a  king  impnsonmenL 
idle  of  obatlBn  bclonniirg  to  the  abbef  of  FoalsTiaud,  axamised  by 


J 


L 


SI  ISABELLA     OF    AXOODLEMB. 

Isabella  nf  Angoul^me  had  not  bnrne  an  beir  (o  John,  when  Arlhnr 
wu  cut  ofl^  in  1202 ;  thererore,  after  John  had  desiioyed  this  promrnng 
scion  of  Plantagenet,  the  sole  represenlalive  nf  that  heroic  line  wm  hn 
(lishonoured  self.'  The  cledsion  of  the  twelve  peers  of  France,  roo- 
vened  lo  inqalre  into  the  fate  of  Arthur,  declared  Normandy  forfeiwd  bf 
king  John,  in  1203.  The  demise  of  queen  Eleanora,  his  molber.  tool 
place  the  year  after:  she  lived  to  mourn  over  the  dismemberment  oflhi 
conliiicnlal  possessions  of  her  family.  Paulus  Emilias,  in  his  lift  of 
Philip  Augustus,  declares  that  the  queen-mother  interceded  etrennntwly 
for  Arthur,  and  (lied  of  sorrow  when  she  found  the  depths  of  guilt  iaia 
which  John  had  plunged. 

The  annals  of  the  monks  of  Fonlevraiid  testify,  that  queen  Elmaoii 
took  the  veil  of  their  order,  in  ihe  year  1202,  and  that  she  died  in  thr 
year  1204,  having  been  for  many  months  wholly  dead  to  the  world. 

Her  last  charter  is  given  to  ihe  men  of  Oleron,*  soon  after  the  dwni* 
of  her  SOD,  Richard  1.  In  this  document  she  confirms  the  privilege  of 
this  great  maritime  guild  or  Iraiernity. 

Adversity  evidently  improved  the  character  of  Eleanora  of  Aquitnnc; 
and  after  the  violent  passions  of  her  youth  had  been  conecied  by  Mr- 
row  and  experience,  her  life  exhibits  many  traces  of  a  great  ruler  uJ 
magiiunimous  sovereign.  A  good  moral  education  would  have  ivadami 
Eleanora  of  Aquitaine  one  of  the  greatest  characters  of  her  tinte.  Sb« 
had  been  reared  in  her  sunny  fatherland,  as  the  gay  votaress  of  plavwr ; 
her  intellectual  cultivation  had  been  considerable,  but  its  sole  end  •»* 
to  enhance  the  delights  of  a  voluptuous  life,  by  calling  into  actWiiv  lO 

Sir  Tliomas  Phillipi,  Ban.,  ii  u  evident  that  EIboikiib  of  Brettgns  wtts  ippoMri, 
bjr  the  nhlMsa  of  Fonievimud,  aupctiot  of  Iho  nunntry  of  Amlimtnirf.  iH 
known  hitlieno'  of  the  sislei  at  Anhur  wom,  that  slie  died  Jn  1333,  ud  wn 
liiiriod  Bi  Ambtesburf. 

'  ll  ia  iu  an  allusion  10  (Ilia  fsci  tlinl  Le  Breton,  in  his  beautirut  ^esriip'ifa  "( 
Arthur's  death,  (whioh.  wiili  other  rie!i  though  iirelevsnt  mactpr,  we  are  Ixoii 
to  eielude,]  makes  Arthur  exeinim,  when  pleading  pasnonately  fiir  his  lir*,*ih 
ID)'  iinolu,  apa/e   the  aon  of  ihy  brother — spare  Ihy  faung  nrpLew — •psr*  »J 

*  ElEuioia  of  Aquitaine,  at  that  ent  the  greelen  naval  polennia  in  th*  woit'^ 
i«  teen  in  this  chuier  lo  exetciie  full  Kivereiguty  over  these  mctoliaM  illuil'n 
■'To  the  beloved  and  faithful  mariuea  of  Oleton,"  rays  Eleanora,  '  «a  (Dnfta 
the  former  GmoU  of  llial  venerable  and  illnattioas  mna,  our  )»r<1  flcnry  tinf  cf 
Bnglanit,  with  whom  wo  oowracled  our  matrimony,  on  condition  •':'.■  r'-  ■-'—' 

en  orOlerOD  keep  lajth  with  our  heira."     She  names  not  king  * 

tilts  ohaner  is  fbllowed  by  amnhflr  rromhim,  ■■  onnfirnitng,  for  lii. 
our  dearest  and  mon  venerable  mother  baa  giBDiod  diihng  h  > 
Ihii  Jbrgolten  cliarler  willioul  a  deep  and  vilsl  iateresi  to  out  : 
disDMil  iate  of  Oleion  was  the  source  of  out  maritime  laws,  and  tba  cnif''  i^ 
our  infuil  couimerce. — (Fiedera,  vol.  i.)     To  one  of  ber  cbarten,  fttMtni^ 
the  FonlevrBud  coUecdon  in  the  Bibliotliiqae  Royule,  eiamiiM4  bjT  Sb  "T  M 
lips  is  appended  the  seal  of  Eleanora,  representing  liar  figate  at  (hll  Ik$^ 
niiRiliog  with  a  fleur-de-1i«  in  her  ri^-ht  hand  ;  pho  holds  in  the  Igft  a  ^loba,  f^ 
bol  trf  soveieigaly,  on  which  ia  a  binl  alandiDg  an  a  cross.     Ttu)  charter  itiaUn 
a  great  curiosity,  granting  cettaia  lands,  anniiai  value  tOs.,  to  Adam  Ccidi  ul 
Joan  hia  wife,  on  condition  of  ibeir  paying  hei  every  yrmt  oat  pound  oS 
mon. — Adam  was  possibly  bar  coo^ 


ISABELLA    OF    ANGOCLBMK.  35 

the  powers  of  a  poetic  mind.  Slowly  and  surely  she  learned  the  stem 
lesson  of  life,  that  power,  beauty,  and  royalty,  are  but  vanity,  if  not 
linked  with  moral  excellence :  she  learned  it  too  late,  for  the  thorns  her 
own  reckless  hand  had  planted  beset  her  path  to  the  latest  hour  of  her 
txistence. 

She  was  buried  by  the  side  of  Henry  II.  at  Fontevraud,  where  her 
lomb  was  to  be  seen,  with  its  recumbent  statue,  till  the  French  revolu- 
tion.'  The  face  of  this  effigy  is  beautifully  worked  with  strokes  of  the 
pencil,  like  miniature ;  the  features  are  noble  and  intellectual.  Eleanora 
wears  the  gorget,  wimple,  and  cover-chef;  over  this  head-gear  is  a  regal 
diadem ;  the  royal  mantle  is  folded  gracefully  round  her  waist ;  it  is  of 

Get  blue,  figured  with  silver  crescents.  A  book  was  once  held  in  the 
ds  clasped  on  the  breast,  but  both  hands  and  book  are  now  broken 
away.' 

With  his  mother  king  John  lost  all  fear  and  shame.  Distinct  as  his 
ehamcter  stands,  on  a  bad  eminence,  the  reader  of  general  history  knows 
little  of  the  atrocity  of  this  man,  whose  wickedness  was  of  the  active 
and  impetuous  quality  sometimes  seen  in  the  natives  of  the  south  of 
Europe,  combined  with  the  most  prominent  defects  of  the  English  dis- 
position. He  exhibits  the  traits  of  the  depraved  Proven^d,  whose 
dvilizatioQ  had  at  that  era  degenerated  to  corruption,  joined  to  the  bru- 
tality of  his  worst  English  subjects,  then  in  a  semi-barbarous  state.  Isa- 
bella's influence  did  not  mend  his  roannera;  he  became  notoriously 
worae  after  his  union  with  her. 

Ignorance  could  not  be  pleaded  as  an  excuse  for  John's  enormities ; 
like  all  the  sons  of  Eleanora  of  Aquitaine,  he  had  literary  tastes.  Some 
ilems  in  his  close  rolls  prove  the  fact,  that  king  John  read  books  of  a 
high  character.  His  mandate  to  Reginald  de  Comhill,  requires  him  to 
send  to  Windsor  the  Romance  of  the  History  of  England.'  The  abbot 
of  Reading  supplied  his  sovereign  with  the  Old  Testament ;  Hugh  St 
Victor  on  the  Sacraments ;  the  Sentences  of  Petre  Lombard ;  The  Epistles 
of  St  Austin ;  Origen's  Treatise ;  and  Arian.  The  abbot  likewise  ac- 
knowledges that  he  has  a  book  belonging  to  the  king  called  ^^  Pliny."  ^ 

After  the  dower  knds  of  the  English  queens  had  been  led  free,  by  the 
death  of  the  queen-mother,  and  the  composition  of  Berengaria,  king 
John  endowed  his  wife  most  richly,  with  many  towns  in  the  West  of 
England,  besides  Exeter,  and  the  tin-mines  of  Cornwall  and  Devonshire. 
The  jointure  paUce  of  the  heiress  of  Angoul^me  was  that  ancient  resi- 
dence of  the  Conqueror,  the  castle  of  Berkhamstead,  in  Hertfordshire. 

Queen  Isabella  accompanied  her  dishonoured  lord  to  England,  Decem- 
ber 6,  1203.  As  Aquitaine,  since  the  captivity  of  count  Hugh  de  Lu- 
signan,  had  been  in  a  state  of  revolt,  John  was  forced  to  reside  in  Eng- 
land, until  he  made  an  attempt  to  subdue  Poitou  in  1206.  Having  set  at 
liberty  the  queen's  unfortunate  lover,  Hugh  de  Lusignan,  and  entered  into 

'  Her  beautiful  statue  is  still  preserved,  thanks  to  the  research  and  zeal  of  our 
lwn<*nie(l  antiquary  Stothnrd. 

*  Montfiiiicoirs  engraving  gives  the  hands  and  book. 

"April  *29,  1203.  See  Ezcerpta  Historica,  393;  the  word  nmanetj  it  mnit  bs 
remembered,  merelf  meant  proie  narration.  *lbii\..  ^'^. 


18 ABELL 


OF    ANGODLEM 


I 


b 


s  pucifio  treaty  mih  him,  lie  cmhorkeJ  utih  him,  and  they  toon  lAtr 
luiiled  Bi  Rocbelle.  By  the  inllueiice  of  Liisif^nan,  tbe  principal  pan  nf 
the  South  of  France  agaia  owned  the  sway  of  tlie  line  of  llie  Pknnaiwt 

Queen  Isabella,  during  th«  king's  abeeuce,  brought  him  an  Imt  H 
Winchester,  who  received  the  name  of  Henry.  After  his  return  (u  Enf- 
land,  king  John  began  utterly  to  diaregani  all  the  ancient  lawa  uf  hu 
kingdom ;  and  when  the  barons  murmured,  he  required  from  ikm 
the  surrender  of  their  children  as  hoetagea.  In  tbe  Tower  rolli  f^ 
documenis  proving  that  those  young  nobles  were  appointed  to  n 
his  queen '  at  Windsor  and  Winchester,  where  they  attended  her  in. 
serving  her  si  meals,  and  following  her  at  cavaieadeei  and  jt 

Tlie  trsQedy  of  the  unfortunate  family  of  De  Braosc,  visa  oceaMMC 
by  the  resistance  of  the  parenia  to  these  ordinances,  in  1211.  Kiaf 
Jolin  had  demanded  the  eldest  son  of  William  de  Braoae.  lord  of  Bnua- 
ber,  in  Sussex,  as  a  page  to  wail  on  queen  Isabella,  mmuing  bim  ia 
reality  as  a  hostage  for  his  father's  allegiance.  When  the  ki^a  in» 
sage  was  delivered  at  Bramber  by  a  courtier  who  bore  the  omiMM 
name  of  Mauluc,*  the  imprudent  lady  de  Braose  declared  in  his  hMiiK 
'^  that  she  wonld  not  surrender  her  childtcn  to  a  king  who  had  monlMW 
his  own  nephew."  The  words  of  the  unfortunate  mother  were  Mf 
reported,  by  the  malicious  messenger.  The  lady  de  Braose  xepentsd  rf 
her  rashness  when  it  was  loo  laie,  and  strove  in  vain  lo  propitiate  qi»a 
Isabella  by  rich  gifts.  Among  other  offerings,  she  sent  tlie  quMi  i 
present  of  a  herd  of  four  hundred  cows  and  one  beautifVil  bull:  lUt 
peerless  herd  was  white  as  milk,  all  but  the  ears,  which  were  red.' 

This  strange  present  to  Isabella  did  not  avert  the  deadly  wruih  ofhni 
John;  forheseizedlheunforinnate&milyatMeaihin  Irelanil.  i 
had  lied  for  safety.     The  lord  of  Bramber,  his  wife  and   i' 
conveyed  to  the  old  castle  at  Windsor,  and  enclosed  in  n  - 
where  Ihey  were  deliberately  starved  to  death.     Father,  ni"i- 
innocent  little  ones,  suffered,  in  our  England,  the  (ate  of  count  Ujolino 
and  his  family;  an  atrocity  compared  with  which  the  dark  fltain  of  Jf> 
Oiiir's  murder  fiides  to  the  hne  of  a  venial  crime. 

Tbe  passion  of  John  for  his  queen,  though  it  wae  sufficimily  stmu 
lo  embroil  him  in  war,  was  not  exclusive  enough  lo  secure  coorftwu 
fidelity;  the  king  tormented  her  with  jealousy,  while  on  hid  nan  W 
was  far  from  setting  her  a  good  example,  for  he  ofton  invaded  the  haooof 
of  the  female  nobility.  The  name  of  the  lover  of  ls^)elb  bai  never 
been  naeertained,  nor  is  it  clear  that  she  was  ever  guilty  of  any  ilwtfiO' 
tion  from  rectitude.  But  John  revenged  the  wrong  that,  perhap*,  oal* 
existed  tn  his  maligimnt  imagination,  in  a  manner  peculiar  lo  hiiiMiC 

'Two  of  ibese  hosmea  cbiMreo,  Elizabtith  hciiBu  of  sir  RaJpU  Dviiaiuitef 
SUerili  Cuilfs  in  WeiUnotelaml,  ami  WaltPi  The  lielt  of  ni  Thumai  Sir«UnA 
of  Strickluod,  rotmed  an  BHachmmit  for  each  other  at  thi*  coon  uf  Wliclla.  iml 
>Aerwi>r<Lt  mairieil. 

'  rmer  de  MhuJuo  wu  raid  lo  be  the  OBsisUDl  of  Jdba  in  tbe  miU'l«  cf  i> 
ibui;  Jicnce  ihc  lanni  of  the  lady  de  Biaose. —  (l^pmL.)  She  wh  a  ZfoMB 
barouct*  by  binh,  lici  name  Matilda  St.  Vaiery. 

'An  «ecJeot  Flemish  ctuoiuBle  siiad  by  Sgotii  aad  Bolinjtdiad. 


IlABBLLik    OF    ANOOULSMB.  37 

Re  made  his  mercenaries  assassinate  the  person  whom  he  suspected  of 
npplauting  him  in  his  queen's  affections,  with  two  others  supposed  to 
be  accomplices,  and  secretly  hung  their  bodies  over  the  bed  of  Isabella.' 
Her  rarpriae  and  terror  when  she  discovered  them  may  be  imagined, 
though  it  is  not  described  by  the  monastic  writers  who  darkly  allude 
to  this  dreadful  scene. 

After  this  awful  tragedy,  the  queen  was  consigned  to  captivity,  being 
ecmveyed  to  Gloucester  abbey,  under  the  ward  of  one  of  her  husband's 
nercenary  leaders.  In  a  record-roll  of  king  John,  he  directs  Theodoric 
de  T3res  ^  to  go  to  Gloucester  with  our  lady  queen,  and  there  keep  her 
ii  the  chamber  where  the  princess  Joanna  had  been  nursed,  till  he  heard 
fiirther  from  him."  Joanna  was  bom  in  121 0,  according  to  the  majority 
of  the  chroniclers.  The  queen's  disgrace  was  about  two  years  after  the 
birth  of  her  daughter. 

The  queen  had  brought  John  a  lovely  family,  but  the  birth  of  his 
(bildren  iailcd  to  secure  her  against  harsh  treatment :  she  was  at  this 
time  the  mother  of  two  sons,  and  a  daughter.'  Isabella  inherited  the 
prorince  of  the  Angoumois  in  the  year  1213,  at  which  time  it  is  proba- 
ble that  a  reconciliation  took  place  between  the  queen  and  her  husband, 
tince  her  mother,  the  countess  of  Angoul^me,  came  to  England,  and  put 
hmelf  under  the  protection  of  John.  Soon  afWr  he  went  to  Angou- 
i^Die,  with  Isabella. 

To  &cilitate  the  restontion  of  the  Poictevin  provinces,  again  seized 

hy  Philip  Augustus,  John  found  it  necessary  to  form  an  alliance  with 

w  former  rival,  count  Hugh  de  Lusignan.'    Although  that  nobleman 

had  been  set  at  libeity  some  years,  he  perversely  chose  to  remain  a 

hadielor,  in  order  to  remind  all  the  world  of  the  perfidy  of  that  faithless 

boMity  who  had  broken  her  betrothment  for  a  crovm.    The  only  stipu- 

Uiioo  which  could  induce  him  to  assist  king  John  was,  that  he  would 

give  him  the  eldest  daughter  of  Isabella,  as  a  wife,  in  the  pbce  of  the 

mollier.     In  compliance  with  this  singular  request,  the  infant  princess 

Joanm  was  betrothed  to  him  immediately,  and  forthwith  delivered  to 

him,  that  she  might  be  educated  and  brought  up  in  one  of  his  castles, 

%•  her  mother  had  been  before  her.^    Afler  this  alliance,  count  Hugh 

eftctnally  cleared  the  Poictevin  borders  of  the  French  invaders ;  and 

king  John,  flushed  with  his  temporary  success,  returned  with  his  queen, 

to  plague  Elnffland  with  new  acts  of  tyranny.^ 

Although  die  most  extravagant  prince  in  the  world  in  regard  to  .his 
own  personal  expenses,  John  was  parsimonious  enough  toward  his 
baatilifiil  queen.  In  one  of  his  wardrobe-rolls  there  is  an  order  for  a 
my  doth  pelitsom  for  Isabella,  guarded  with  nine  bars  of  grey  fur.  In 
king  John's  wardrobe-roll  is  a  warrant*  for  giving  out  cloth,  to  make 

^  S«a  Dr.  Linsard,  reign  of  John. 

*  Her  tecond  Km,  Richard,  was  born  1208,  and  her  daughter  Joanna  at  Gloocester. 

"Matthew  Paris. 

*Goant  Hugh  is  called  the  son  of  count  de  la  Blarche,  his  father  being  alive. 
F<Bd^  vol.  i.  *Oct  20,  1214 

'It  was  not  beneath  the  attention  of  the  English  monarch  to  order  the  minntast 
articles  of  dress  for  himself  and  his  queen.  Indeed,  the  wardrobe  accosmX^  «^ 
VOL.  II.  — 4  c 


I 


OF    AKGOU  LKXE. 

iwo  robes  for  the  queen,  each  to  consist  of  live  elU ;  one  of  green  dolb, 
the  other  of  brunet.  The  green  robe,  lined  wiih  cendal  or  ttrcenei,ii 
considered  worth  sixty  shillings.  Tbe  king  tikpwive  ordere  (or  hit 
queen  cloth  for  a  pair  of  purple  sandals,  and  four  pair  of  women'a  boota, 
one  pair  to  be  embroidered  in  circles  round  the  ankles.  There  is,  lit*- 
wise,  an  item  for  the  re[iair  of  Isabella's  mirror.'  The  dress  of  Joha  wm 
costly  and  glittering  in  tbe  extreme,  for  he  was,  in  addition  to  nilicr  fol- 
lies and  frailties,  the  greatest  fop  in  Europe.  At  one  of  lii«  Christmu 
festivula,  he  appeared  in  a  red  satin  mantle,  embroidered  with  mpphini 
and  ]>eBrls,  a  tunic  of  white  damask,  a  girdle  s^t  with  garnets  and  ma- 
phires,  while  the  baldrick  that  crossed  from  his  lefl  shoulder  lo  siHtiu 
his  sword,  was  set  with  diamonds  and  emeralds,  and  hia  white  glow 
were  adorned,  one  with  a  ruby,  and  the  other  with  a  aaf^hin!.'  The 
richness  of  king  John's  dress,  and  the  splendour  of  his  jeweller}',  partir 
oerasioned  the  extravagant  demands  he  made  on  the  purses  of  bis  peo^, 
both  church  and  laity ;  he  supplied  his  wants  by  a  degree  of  corruption 
that  proves  him  utterly  insensible  to  every  feeling  of  honour,  both  u  t 
man  and  a  king,  and  shamelessly  left  rolls  and  records  whereby  posterity 
were  enabled  to  read  such  entries  as  the  foilowiug  ludicrous  speciroeu 
of  bribery.' 

"  Robert  de  Vaux  gave  five  of  his  beat  palfreys,  thai  the  king  m^ 
hold  his  tongue  about  Henry  Pinel's  wife." 

Wliat  tale  of  scandal  king  Jolm  had  the  opportunity  of  telling,  depo- 
nent saith  not ;  but  the  entry  looks  marvellously  imdignified,  in  nipl 
accounts,  and  shows  that  stiame  as  well  as  honour  wu  dead  in  the  bfwt 
of  John. 

"  To  the  Bishop  of  Winchester  is  given  one  tun  of  good  wine,  fof  »d 
putting  the  king  in  mind  to  give  a  girdle  to  die  countess  of  Albemsrie." 

The  scarcity  of  coin,  and  absence  of  paper-money,  made  bribery  re- 
markably shameless  in  those  daysj  palfreys  prancing  at  the  levee,' uJ 
the  four  hundred  milk-white  kine  of  the  unfortunate  lady  de  BibM^ 
lowing  before  the  windows  of  Isabella,  must  have  had  an  odd  cflrcL* 

The  queen,  soon  afler  her  return  to  England  in  1314,  ivas  aupereeded 
in  the  Uckle  heart  of  her  husband,  by  the  unfortunate  beauty  of  Malilik 
Fits-Walter,  suntamed  the  Fair.    The  abduction  of  this  lady,  who,  to 

the  sovEreigns  of  ibe  middle  ages  prove  tlint  ihoj  kept  a  royal  warsluHiH  of 
raoipcry,  haberdaBhcrjr,  and  linen,  from  wlicnce  ilieir  offioer*  mmsutcil  oat  ni- 
VHls,-brocnde,  wuconels.  liesue,  ^iue«,  and  Iiinnnings  of  all  tona,'  uul  ibnqb 
ihfl  teipi  of  Henry  VIII,,  nt  least,  ihe  Branu  for  IhiB  hnbprdufaety  wrre  l^od 
by  the  warlilie  hand  of  the  English  sovsrelgii.  See  Ihe  order  Ibr  lady  tlUlt 
fold's  coiin  nwuraing,  quoted  by  Dr.  Liogaid  al  Ihe  end  of  ihs  Tcjgn  of  lluu  B» 
narab ;  in  whioh  even  ber  caps  ar«  diaoataed. 
■F^crpta  Hlitorico,  p.  398. 

■  Siich  otnamenied  glovei  are  *eea  oa  hii  effigy  al  Worcester  calbedial,  tM  m 
that  of  bi«  father  at  Fontevraud. 

•  Vpo  Neustria.     Man.  VfeBtm\nMtet- 

■  It  realiaei  Uie  mtire  of  Vapf,  applied  U>  ilie  Walpole  tninutty.  Tte  fMt 
laiuling  the  convenipnce  of  bonk  noiei  in  such  oaiea,  conlrattf  tlw  cliirBif «« 
rflyaiice  of  tangible  properly  as  bribes,  saying, 

■■  A  bandM&  VIML  U^J  llBTM  MM." 


ISABELLA 


XGOULEME. 


in  hn  juslice,  ihoroughly  abhorred  ihe  royal  felon,  was  ihe  exploit 
■■hirh  completed  ihe  eiBsperaiioii  of  the  English  burona,  who  flew  W> 
imi*  for  ihc  purpose  of  svenging  ihe  honour  of  the  most  disiinfuislied 
i!Ti(tng  their  cIms,  lord  Fitz-WiJter,  liither  of  the  fair  victim  of  John. 

r.vny  one  knows  ihnl,  clad  in  steel,  they  met  their  monarch  John  nt 
uiiiinymede,  and  there 

-  In  Uapry  bour 
MnJp  the  fell  lyrani  frrl  Ins  ppoplf's  power." 

The  unfurinnaie  Maulda,  who  had  rouaeil  the  jealousy  of  the  queen 
«ii(l  excii«<l  the  IbwIces  passion  of  John,  was  supposed  lo  be  i 
>'  t  Uiatj  in  ihe  spring  of  ihe  year  1215.' 

.\Aer  the  signature  of  Magna  Charta,  king  John  retired  in  &  rage  ta 
>:■■  foitreM  at  Windsor,  the  scene  of  tnany  of  hia  secret  murders.  Hent 
.'-  gave  way  lo  lempesta  of  personal  fury,  resembling  his  fulher^a  bursU) 
'  poxsion ;  he  execrated  his  birth,  and,  seizing  slicks  and  clubs,  venlof 
'  1.^  maniantl  feelings  by  biting  and  gnawing  them,  and  then  breakitu 
iiiim  in  pieces.  While  these  emoitons  were  raging,  mischief  matur 
tiarif  in  his  soul ;  for  after  passing  a  sleepless  nighl  at  Windsor,  he  ( 
puwd  for  Ihe  lale  of  Wight,'  wliere  he  sullenly  awaited  the  arrival  ot  ' 
■ome  imaiia  of  mercenaries  he  had  sent  for  from  BmbanE  and  Quieniicit 
with  whooe  assistance  he  meant  to  revenge  himself  on  ihe  barons, 
the  btr  isle  John  passed  whole  days,  idly  sauntering  on  the  beach,  chaV- 
tmB  fiuniliarly  with  the  fishers,  and  even  joiuing  in  piratical  cxpediliona 
wiui  ibem  against  his  own  subjects.  He  was  absent  some  weeks ;  eveiT 
Mie  ihooghi  he  was  lost,  and  few  wiahed  that  he  might  ever  be  fouiia> 
He  onerged  from  his  concealment  in  good  enmeal,  when  his  mercenary 
'~'-op«  urived,  and  then  he  began  that  atrocious  progress  across  ths 
•iani),  always  alluded  to  by  his  contemporaries  with  horror.  One  trail 
1/  hi*  conduct  shall  sen-e  for  a  specimen  of  the  reel : — The  king  every 
urnming  took  delight  in  firing,  with  his  own  hands,  the  house  that  had 
^clicrvd  Ikim  the  preceding  night. 

Ill  ilie  luidst  of  this  diaMical  career  be  reconciled  himself  to  Isabellaj 

■■ ' '-  lind  kept  in  a  stale  of  palace  reattuinl  ever  since  Ihe  abductiov  ! 

'  I  tlie  Fair.'    The  queen  advanced  as  far  as  Marlborotigh  Id 

11'  jau  Illi,"  Mith  tho  book  oT  Dunmow,  "there  atoie  a  grtat  dit^ 
^    b«f  Jnhn  and  hit  barom,  becaiui  of  MnliiJa,  iornamed   ihe  FaiTi 
■::  .r  I   ;     I  Rnbi-n  lord  Filz- Waller,  whom  ibe  king  unlawrully  loveil.  but  codHT 
aa  .tictif.  bcf.  nor  ber  Ikthec'i  consent  thereto.     Wheien|ion  Ihe  king  baoisha^'  , 
a*  B.-i  )'ia<Wiiltei,  Iba  mcMt  valianl  knight  in  England,  aud  csussd  hia  caalW 
i>  Laiit..ii.  callod  fiijmard,  and,  all  bis  oibor  dwelliaifi,  uj  be  spoiled.     Whidh  I 
l-3i(  if.ur,  lie  tent  to  Matilda  ihe  Fair  about  his  old  auit  in  laeo,  and  beoani 
■dv  V.  I  lit  TKii  a^ree  in  h>>  wickeilneH.  the  meiecngei  poisoned  aa  egg,  aud 
l«  Icrf.'fi,  when  ibe  was  hungry,  boil  il  and  giTB  her  to  eat.     She  did  K 
•!i-^]  "      rmdilion  points  out  ouo  of  ihe  toCtj  lurrelB,  perched  on  the  top,  at  tl 
■<ryt  i-t  ttir  Whit«  Tower  of  London,  as  ilie  «eene  ot  this  miirdor.     She  wi 
a:tr7.<l  Eb-re,  Biter  ibe  storming  of  Bnynnrdi  easile,  in  1313.     In  a  like  spidt' 1 
to  'xuit  Julian,  her  enraged  fatlier  brought  iLe  French  iato  England,  to  aven^     ' 
^1  ^ufi'itiM      Matilda's  lortvb  and  offig7Bre  nill  to  ht  teen  in  Ihe prioijr obuiob 
of  I.Hilii  thtnmaw  in  Essex. — Srt  Bnjty'i  Graphic  Ptrambulalor. 
'Bamaid'i  Hiitorj  of  England.  'Mallbew  of  Westminsler. 


ISABELLA 


OP 


KOnDLESE. 


^ 


meet  hinii  whei«  ihej'  abode  some  days,  at  ihe  royal  polar 
of  Savr^ruake,'  which  was  one  of  the  principal  doner  caallei  c 
<|ueeiu.     Al  ihiB  lime  there  is  an  iniimation  on  the  rcconl-fQUs,  ll 
new  building,  al  the  queen's  castle  on  Savemakd  wen  compli 
guiDOg  which  were  kitchens,  with  tireplaccs  for  roasting  oxon  whult. 

John  consigned  to  the  care  of  Isabella,  nt  thia  time,  his  heir  pnnc* 
Henry,  with  whom  she  retired  to  Gloucester,  where  the  rest  of  the  roT«l 
children  were  abiding.  The  queen  had,  in  tite  year  1214,  become  llie 
mother  of  a  secood  daughter,  and  in  the  succeeding  year  she  gate  birlt 
to  the  princess  Isabella.' 

Scarcely  had  the  queen  retreated  to  the  strong  city  of  Gloucester,  whni 
tliat  invasion  by  prince  Louis  of  France  took  place,  which  is  so  wtU 
known  in  genenil  history.  The  barona,  driven  to  desperetion  hy  Jobo't 
late  outrages,  oScred  the  heir  of  France  the  crown,  if  he  would  aid  iIko 
against  their  tormentor.' 

Hunted  into  an  obscure  corner  of  his  kingdom,  in  the  autiimD  of  1316, 
king  John  coniided  tiL?  person  and  regalia  to  the  men  of  Lytin  in  X<s- 
(blk.  But  OS  his  af&ire  eununoned  him  northward,  he  croaaed  iheWuiii 
to  Swinshead  Abbey,  in  Lincolnshire.  The  tide  coining  in  unexpectedly, 
swept  away  part  of  his  army  and  his  baggage.  Uis  splendid  regalia  ■n* 
■wallowed  in  the  devouring  waters,  and  John  himself  scarcely  evaped 
with  lile.  The  luug  arrived  at  Swinshead  Abbey  imwell  and  dispiiual, 
and,  withal,  in  a  malignant  ill  temper.  As  he  sat  at  me&l  in  the  •btwt'i 
refectory,  he  gave  vent  to  his  spleen,  by  saying,  "  that  he  hoped  to  dmLc 
the  half-penny  loaf  cost  a  sliilling  before  the  year  wad  over.*'  A  Sason 
monk  heard  this  malirious  speech  with  indignalion :  if  tbe  evidence  itf 
coniejnporary  historiaus  niay  be  believed,  John  uttered  this  folly  at  dia- 
ner,  ana  before  his  dessert  was  ended,  he  was  poisoned  in  a  dish  of  aulmm 

In  all  probability  the  king  was  seized  with  one  of  thoae  wvera  ^pbB 
fevers,  often  endemic,  in  the  fenny  countries,  at  the  close  of  ih*  ytm. 
The  symptoms  of  alternate  cold  and  heal,  detaUed  by  the  chraaidMt 
approximate  closely  with  that  disease. 

Whether  by  the  visitation  of  God,  or  through  the  agency  of  n«i.llia 
fact  is  ecjdent,  that  king  John  w^  stricken  with  a  fatal  illnem  ai  Skip*- 
head;  but,  sick  as  he  was,  he  ordered  himself  to  be  put  in  a  liner, md 
carried  forward  on  his  northern  progress.  At  Newark  he  could  praecel 
no  further,  but  gave  himself  up  to  the  fierce  atlacks  of  the  nulaoy.  Bi 
sent  for  the  abbot  and  monks  of  Croxton,  and  made  full  con&Miai  (d 
all  his  sins ;  (no  slight  imderlaking;)  he  then  forgave  his  enoMiiee,  wi 
enjoined  those  about  him  to  charge  his  son,  Henry,  to  do  the  eauM}  u^ 
after  taking  the  eucharist,  and  making  all  his  officers  swear  fealnr  to  kii 
eldest  son,  he  expired,  commending  his  soul  to  God,  and  hts  soJv  to 
bucial  in  Worcester  Cathedral,  acccmling  to  his  especial  ■JtrMiin*  ii"— 

'  See  FoDdera,  in  many  deeds, 
'  AAeiward*  muried  lo  the  emperor  of  Geimanr. 
'touti'claun  wai  rooaded  on  bis  ni»rri»gB  with  tl 
t'^uille,  nieoo  w  John. 


a  Saxon  liishop,  of  great  repiitalion  Tor 
his  vicinity  the  dying  king  eviilcntly  emt- 
io be  convenient,  for  keeping  his  cnri>se  from  tlic  atlaclu  J 
one  wlinm  he  had  indefatigably  served  during  hia  life.  Hh  I 
''I'tiieinpcirary  hislorisne  did  not  seem  to  think  ihnt  l)iis  arraiigeinenl,  .1 
Imwrvtr  pnidentty  planned,  was  likely  to  be  elTecln&l  in  altering  hia  I 
ilatinAtinn ;  as  one  of  them  sums  up  hia  rliaracier  in  these  words  tf-  | 
Wnific  energy — "Hell  felt  itself  defiled  by  the  presence  of  John." 

Tilt  c|ttGen  and  the  royal  children  were  at  Gloucester,  when  the  m 
of  the  king's  dwith  airived.     Isabella  and  llie  earl  of  Pembroke  imm^   ] 
liiaiely  caused  prince  Henry  to  be  proelaimeil,  in  tlie  streets  of  that  eity, 
In  the  coraoalion  letter  of  lienry  III.  is  preserved  the  memory  of  t 
Trry  prudent  step,  taken  by  Isabella  as  queen-m oilier.     As  the  kingdca 
wu  in  ftn  unsettled  and  tumultuous  state,  and  as  she  was  by  no  means  J 
Bwiirra!  of  the  safely  of  the  young  king,  she  provided  for  the  security  iff  | 
^•'•\k  l.i-r  sons,  by  sending  her  son  Itirhard  to  Ireland,  whieh  was  at  that  I 
turn.'  loyal  and  iranquil.    The  boy-king  says  m  his  proclamntion,*  "ThtJ 
lady  ijueeii  our  mother  has  upon  advice,  and  having  our  assent  to  it|  I 
•rni  our  brother  Itichard  to  Ireland,  yet  so  that  you  and  Dur  kitigdot 
f«n  »pecdily  see  him  again." 
Only  nine  days  after  the  death  of  John,  the  queen  caused  her  young  ] 
bo  crowned,  in  the  cstiiedral  of  Gloucester.'     .'Although  so  r&>  J 
BBitlj'  K  widow,  the  citrrmc  exigencies  of  the  limes  forced  Isabella  to  J 
child's  coronation.   The  regal  diadem  belonging  to  his  faihtir  I 
_  lost  in  Lincoln  Washes,'  and  the  crown  of  Edward  the  ConTessn  I 
bcng  (u  distant  in  London,  the  little  king  was  crowned  with  a  gold  I 
ifu«Ml  cellar  belonging  to  his  mother.     A  very  small  part  of  Engliw4  1 
rnvgnised  llie  claims  of  Imbella's  son ;  even  Gloucester  was  divided,  I 
llie  citizens  who  adiiereil  to  the  young  king  being  known  by  tlie  croM 
■  'f  Aqnilaine,  cut  in  while  cloth  oa  their  breasts. 

'  The  nobtv  monumenl  i>f  king  Jolin,  in  black  itinible.  with  hia  flna  effigjr,  ii  to 
:  iivu  ill  Worv«9ti.'i  callieilnJ,  Ihougb  now  removed  to  die  choir,  at  noinv  dil- 
-  .■:r  (nrni  th«  ilpairablu  ni-i|jlibou[tioiiil  or  llic  Saxon  siiinl.  JoUn  wai  rechone4 
\.j  hia  coDWnipnntlcs  ciiremftly  liniiclsomc ;  but  ihc  great  breaullh  over  Iba 
■■Wtto  and  emio,  Which  is  the  ieiiJing  characleriglic  of  lhi>  monarclt,  i«  not  con- 
ria,nt  wllh  modarn  ideu  of  beHuly.  In  the  mors  animal  comelinegs  of  cM^ 
pliiiiiii  anci  farm  faa  ptobabiy  sxoelled. 
'Foiiara,  vol.  i.  ■Speed'i  CtaKiaiclb 

■RrgBid*  w«a  circulated  in  Noilblli,  that  the  royal  circle!  of  king  Jobn  tng  ] 
nrtunlj  nnind,  in  tlio  laus  eictvation  for  ilic  Eau  brink  dminxge,  near  the  i 
tadlcaied  tyf  chronicler!  ni  the  scene  of  Ibii  lost;  and  n  wel I'sinker,  who  ki 
vAlng  dT  hiftory,  informed  a  gentleman  of  Norfolk,  of  a  eiirioua  discovery  M  J 
■mIo  wbcn  dig^ine  fbr  a  well  in  tbc  wme  nei^liboarhood.  "I  found,"  mid  h' 
'ill  IIhi  oOurHi  of  my  wll-ditcsins.  •  king*  crown."  On  l>sinf  deiliKl  »  d 
KDb*  iU  ha  dcrUtiitl  tlmt  it  wu  no  larger  tliHii  (he  lop  of  ■  quut  pot,  but  Otf'  I 
Ml  in  WDBtnenu  round  tlie  lep  i  tint  it  looked  black,  uid  thai  b«  had  no  laok  (1^  I 
Ihe  Tahii',  Cir  when  ■  JuW  imilat  oflBred  liim  iliree  pounijs  ten  (hillings,  he  «!■  1 
fjaj  u>  aecepi  ll,  hut  he  afturwiirds  hcarJ  ilinl  the  Jew  had  made  upward*  cf  1 
Uty  ppundj  by  the  •pecalatian.  Tllii  Was  moil  likely  one  of  the  golden  Mr»  1 
mJ*  m  dnlm  (Ued  at  die  back  of  the  king*  belmais,  a»  iu  liza  ihawi  tbaf^  J 


I 
I 


4'2  ISABELLA    or    AKOOILENK' 

Henry  vim  (lieu  jiui  nine  yt»n  clil  -,  but  lliou^h  likely  lo  be  >  minor 
fur  aome  vmrs,  ji  tiiuit  Iw  obrntrveJ  ihai  tlie  (juuen-moihOT  wu  oftnd 
no  vharo  in  ihe  goiremm<-ui ;  *iid  lu  i|uecn«  of  Englooil  h«d  (Jr«i}iKflily 
acted  OS  rvgrnta,  during  ihc  nliscncG  of  ihcir  )iaab«nda  or  aotia,  iliii  n- 
elusion  Li  a  prDof  ihut  itir  English  liclil  laabclla  in  little  Mteen. 

London  snil  ihe  ndjai-'eni  cuunliH  were  \iuio  in  the  ImuuIb  of  Lmiiad' 
Frauce.  Animig  other  ^sbcmIoos.  he  hclJ  ilie  ijueeii's  dower>palace  of 
Berkhampstcad,  which  was  strongly  gartiauned  with  French  aolilim. 
(lowfTcr,  the  lalout  and  wisdom  of  iho  protector  Pembroke,  and  Iht  in- 
trppitlily  of  IluWrl  di:  Bur^fh,  in  n  few  mouths  cleared  England  of  ihcH! 
in  trader*. 

Before  her  year  of  wiilowhood  liad  espiied,  l«al>ella  retired  U)  her 
native  city.  Angoul£ine,  July.  1217.  The  princess  Joanna  mided  m 
ttie  vicinity  of  her  luutlier'a  doitiBina.  being  al  Valence,  the  c&piial  of  ibi 
count  do  la  Marchc.  Nothing  could  be  more  aingular  than  the  aiiuatiai 
of  queen  l»bclla,  as  niuthvr  lo  the  pmmised  bride  «f  count  [iagb.wi 
that  bride  but  ocven  years  old.  The  valiant  Ltisignan  himaelf  wai  ^iM 
from  bia  territories,  venting  his  superfluous  ccinibotivenesa,  and  aoolhl^ 
hia  croasos  in  lova,  by  a  cruude  which  Ite  uoilrrlook  in  I3I&  Tia 
demise  of  his  father  obliged  him  to  revisit  Puitou  in  1220,  when  ba«« 
frequrnily  in  cmupany  with  the  ijucen  of  England,  who  wu  al  tb«  «M 
time  hia  false  love,  and  tlie  mother  of  iiis  little  wife.  laabelU,  at  limfi 
of  ihirty-^our,  still  rtitained  that  marvellous  beauty  which  hiKl  cauid  M 
tu  be  considered  the  Helen  of  the  middle  ages.  It  ja  iheKibit  no  gml 
wonder,  thai  alie  quickly  regained  her  old  place  in  lite  conatant  taiM  tt 
the  valiant  Matcher.  Accordingly,  we  find  this  notation  in  UatlliavW 
WeaUninater,  that  in  the  year  1220, or'* about  that  time,  Isabella, qM«- 
dowagerofEjiglaod,  having  beTore  crossed  the  teas,  took  lo  her  binburf 
her  former  tpou$t,  llie  couui  of  Marche,  in  Frauce,  without  leav»  of  b> 
son,  llie  kin^,  or  his  council."'  As  the  queen  took  this  step  witboot 
asking  the  cuoseni  of  any  one  in  England,  the  council  of  regcttcy  witb- 
held  her  dower  from  her,  lo  the  indignation  of  her  husband.  A  very  It" 
months  afforded  them  an  opportunity  of  righting  this  wrong. 

The  countcss-queen  and  tfie  count  de  U  .Marche  had  still  retained  U 
^'aleiice  the  little  Joanna,  who  had  been  deprived  by  her  mother  of  im 
mature  bridegroom.  But  it  so  happened  that  the  council  of  Hr-nnr  lil 
greatly  needed  the  resioniUon  of  tiie  princeas.  in  order  lo  make  peaH 
with  Alexander,  king  of  Scotland;  upon  which  king  [lenr;-  took  llio 
opportunity  of  writing  a  congratulatory  episde  to  hia  muiher  on  hrt 
marriage,  and  demanding  the  restoration  of  his  sister;  but  queen  Isabell*i 
highly  inceused  at  the  deprivation  of  her  jointure,  poaitivety  refuaed  U 
give  lip  the  princeas.  The  young  king  then  wrote  to  the  pope, eomesllt 
requesting  him  to  escommunicaic  his  mother  and  failier-in-law ;  the 
latter  he  vituperated  as  a  very  Judas.  Before  the  pope  complied  with 
this  dutiful  request,  he  inquired  a  little  into  the  meiits  of  ilic  case,  lixl 

'  Maitliaw  Paris.  Beside  M  Paiii,  all  hiitoriiui!,  nnrienl  and  mckleni.  maaiiaa 
the  nnnanlie  le-tnanio^.  Rymet's  Ttuden,  Hemniiaglbid,  Wikee,  Ratuiiil''  311, 
Carta,  Tj^etl,  Collier,  mad  Monii 


ISABELLA    OF     ANGOtlLEME.  43     ' 

I  Ihwd  that  Henry  III.  had  ilepriveil  his  royal  mother  or  all,  in  England 
mdGtiienne,  ihat  appertained  to  her  as  the  widow  of  king  John,  because 
At  (Ud  not  ack  his  leave  to  marr}'  a  sccuiid  time ;  and  as  he  was  only 
bnrtern,  timl  waa  scarcely  to  be  ex{>erted.  After  a  most  Tohiminous 
correapottdence  between  tlie  contending  parties,  on  the  kin|;  of  Scots 
declanng  he  would  not  be  pacified  without  a  wife  from  the  royni  family, 
Heitry  was  glad  to  make  up  the  difference  with  his  mother,  by  paying 
Urr  ■rrearM  of  jointure,  and  receiving  from  the  count  de  la  Marclie  the 

The  king  of  Fninre  was  the  liege  lord  of  count  de  la  Marche;  but 
the  ci>uiit«a9-<)ueen  waa  infuriated  whenever  she  saw  her  husband  arrayed 
■{{aiiuii  llie  iprritorips  of  her  son,  and  her  sole  study  was,  how  French 
pMtou  could  be  rendered  independent  of  the  king  of  France.  "  She  was 
a  ifuwiii'**  she  aaidi  ^  and  she  disdained  to  be  the  wife  of  a  man  who 
had  lo  kneel  before  another."  Another  cause  of  violent  irritation  ex- 
M«l>— Prince  Alphonso,  the  brother  of  the  king  of  France,  had  refused 
Imdaughler,  by  ihecount  delaMaiche.  and  married  Janeof  Thoulouse; 
en  this  occasion  king  Louis  created  his  brother,  count  of  Poictiers,  and 
nqoiml  llie  count  de  la  Marche,  as  possessor  of  Poitou,  to  do  him 
homage.  Isabclb  manifested  great  disdain  at  the  heiress  of  Thoulonse* 
liking  precedence  of  her,  the  crowned  queen  of  England — mother,  ea 
ibe  nid,  ofa  king  and  an  empress. 

From  that  time  she  suflered  the  unfortunate  count  de  la  Marche  to 
btn  DO  domestic  peace,  till  he  transferred  his  allegiance  from  Louis  IX. 
Co  ber  won  Henry  111.,  who  undertook  the  conquest  of  French  Poitou  at    ' 
the  insiigntion  of  his  moiher.' 

Several  ymn  of  disastrous  war<are  ensued.  The  husband  of  Isabella 
nearly  lost  his  whole  patrimony,  while  the  district  of  the  Angoumois 
««  overrun  by  the  French.'  After  king  Henry  III.  lost  the  ^llle  of 
Taifleboorg,  fought  on  the  hanks  of  Isabella's  native  river,  the  sparkling 
Charmt*,  ■  series  of  defeats  followed,  which  utterly  dispossessed  both 
the  qarai-mothcr  and  her  husband  of  their  territories.  Henry  IH.  fied  to 
BonnlAiu,  wairccly  deeming  himself  safe  in  that  city;  while  the  queen- 
mother,  whose  pride  had  occasioned  the  whole  catastrophe,  had  no 
RMMrce  but  lo  deliver  herself  up  to  the  mercy  of  the  king  of  France. 
The  cuoni  de  la  Marche  had  fought  like  a  lion  ;  but  his  valour  availed 
liHlSf  wh«n  the  minds  of  his  people  were  against  the  war. 

D  this  dilemma,  the  couniess-queen  and  her  lord  determined  to  send 
Ir  heir,  Ibe  young  Hugh  de  Lusignan,  to  see  how  king  Louis  seemed    , 
d  inwards  them.     Thai  amiable  monarcli  received  the  son  of  hit   I 
i  such  benerolence,  that  the  count  de  la  Marche,  taking  his    ' 

»St  Pari*.  Tha  princna  w»»  married  to  AlBiander  II,  bi  Yorlt,  MidmmnivT, 
US  I.  Tlwufth  only  eleven  ywin  or  age,  her  manisgee  had  already  mice  itoppcd 
■  cnwl  wai.  Sbp  wai  ■  child  of  an^lia  bcniily  nnd  (weeineas  of  dispoailiDii, 
UkI  wva  vBinsmeJ,  by  Il>e  Eiiglitb,  Joan  Makepeace.  She  died,  when  twenty- 
SO,  ■4'  a  dwelinr,  piiHlncpd  tiy  a  change  of  cUitiole.  The  king  a(  Seal*,  at  this 
{■ciltcatio*.  tcccived  baek  Uia  (Wo  sieiera,  who  had  been  pledged  lo  Icing  Joha'  J 
tu  a  Mm  at  nonay. 

•Spoc^  •TiUndsRecueil,  IMl.  'H.  Paris. 


wi(^  and  the  rest  of  the  children  with  him,  to  the  Cftmp  of  Sl  t 
iht^inselTes  at  his  feet, and  were  very  kindly  reccired,  on  no 
ditions,  than  doing  homage  to  prince  Alphonso,  for  three  cm 

It  might  liavc  heen  eupfioed  ihal  the  restless  epiril  of  t 
lamed  by  tliese  disasters;  but  soon  alier,  in  1244,  die  ItfB  of 
was  twice  atiemptcd:  the  last  lime  the  assasnns  were 
before  (heir  execnlion  confessed  that  Ihey  had  been  niboi 
Isabella,  to  poison  the  good  king  of  France,     fsabcdla  gSTC' 
the  accusation  by  flying  for  sanctuary  lo  the  abbey  of  T 
"  where  she  was  hid  in  the  secret  ehunber,  and  lired  at  her 
niatihew  Paris;  "though  the  Poictevins  and  French,  cociaidf 
the  origin  of  the  disasiroos  war  wiih  France,  called  her  b 
name  than  Jezebel,  instead  of  her  rightfal  appellation  of  Isat 
thew  says,  tht  whole  brunt  of  this  disgracefnl  business  feQ' 
unfortunate  husband  and  son.     They  were  seized,  and  attoul 
on  this  accusation  of  poisoaing,  when  count  de  la  Marche  ni 
to  bailie,  and  oflbred  lo  prove  in  combat,  with  his  MCiwer 
brother  to  St.  Louis,  lhal  )us  wife  was  belied.     Alphonao, ' 
to  liave  had  no  great  stomach  to  the  fray,  declined  it,  on  I 
coimt  Uu^  was  so  « ireaaon-spoited,"  it  would  be  pollni 
with  him.     Then  Isabella's  yonng  sou  Hugh  dutifully  ofll 
in  the  place  of  his  sire,  and  Alphunso  actually  appointed 
place  lo  meet  him;  nevertheless,  he  again  withdrew,  ezci 
on  the  plea  of  the  infamy  of  the  family.    *^This  sad  n 
Matthew,  "  for  evil  tidings  hasten  bat,  soon  reached  the 
in  the  secret  chamber  of  Foiitevraud." 

The  affront  otfitred  lo  her  brave  young  son  seems  to  hare 
heart  of  Isabella.     She  never  came  out  of  the  secret  chamber 
assuming  the  veil,  (lied  of  a  decay  brouglil  on  by  giief, 
1246. 

As  a  penance  for  her  sins,  she  desired  to  be  buried  hn 
common  cemetery  at  Fontevraud.  Some  years  aAerwards  h«ri 
III-,  visiting  the  tombs  of  his  ancestors  at  Fonlevraud,  was  i 
being  shown  ^le  lowly  grave  of  his  mother :  he  raised  for  b 
tomb,  with  a  fine  enamelled  statue,  in  the  choir  at  Fontei 
Henry  II.  and  deonom  of  Aquitaine,  her  mothei^in-law.' 

Her  statue  is  of  fine  proportions,  clad  in  fiowing  garment 
to  the  waist  by  a  girdle.  She  wears  ilie  wimple  veil,  and 
frontlet.     Her  face  is  oval,  with  regular  and  majesiic  feature*.' 


'Ataitbew  or  WestmiiisleT. 

*Ttia  alate  or  Ihe  loynL  etRgies  HI  Fouler  mud.  in  ihe  pmeni  od 
■iMciibed  in  Sntbud*  Monumenlat  Aniiqullii-).  by  tbe  ndmirKble 
Bmy.  "WheD  Mr.  SnnfaBtd  lirct  vUited  Ftwme,  diiiiog  rli* 
came  dltecl  lo  FonlevrKud  h>  aweiiam  it  ibe  vfflgiet  of  oui 
wire  bucieil  iheio  weie  to  be  hod.  He  Sbnad  Uie  nbbejr  coavcitad 
and  diicovered  in  b  ocIIhc  belonging  u>  it  the  effigies  o(  Heaiy  I 
Eltsnora  or  Ac|Uilaiao.  Riehatd  I,  and  lubella  of  Angoultmi 
where  I'je  flpjiei  were  placed  prnviou*  lo  Uie  roTolulion  wiii  »t» 
■ad'  ibfan  iovaluatal*  effl^i  then  i«bwxb&  «>  «-  coUaXiWhoM 


ISABELLA    OF    ANGOULBMB.  45 

The  count  de  la  Marche  simrived  his  unhappy  partner  but  till  the  year 
1219.  The  enmity  between  him  and  the  family  of  St  Louis  entirely 
diMppeared  after  the  death  of  Isabella ;  for  her  husband  shared  the  cm- 
ade  that  the  king  of  France  made  to  Damietta,  and  fell,  covered  with 
woonda,  in  one  of  the  eastern  battles,  fighting  by  the  side  of  his  old 
mttigoniet,  Alphonso,  count  of  Poictiers.' 

Ubella  left  several  children  by  this  marriage ;  dve  sons,  and  at  least 
three  dangfaters.  Her  eldest  son,  by  the  count  de  la  Marche,'  succeeded 
ooC  only  to  his  Jhther's  patrimony,  but  to  his  mother's  inheritance  of  the 
Angoumois.  He  is  reckoned  in  the  genealogy  of  Lusignan  as  Hugh  XL, 
count  de  la  Marche  and  Angoultoe. 

The  count  de  la  Marche  sent  all  his  younger  sons,  with  his  daughter 
Alice,  to  Henry  III.,  who  provided  for  them  very  liberally,  to  the  great 
iHlignalioa  of  his  subjects. 

pOMd  to  oonstant  mntilmtioii  ttom  the  prisoners  who  came  to  draw  water  from  m 
irtU  twice  every  day.  It  appeared  that  they  had  sustained  severe  ir^ury,  as  Mr. 
SaNlierd  finind  the  broken  fragments  scattered  round.  He  made  drawings  of 
(he  flgurea,  and  upon  his  return  to  England  suggested  to  our  government  the 
pnprietj  of  obtaining  possession  of  these  interesting  relics,  that  they  might  be 
among  the  rest  of  our  royal  effigies  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  appli- 
friled,  but  it  succeeded  in  calling  the  attention  of  the  French  govern- 
towards  theae  remains,  and  in  preserving  them  from  total  destruction." 

'Mbotfiuioon,  who  gives  the  date  of  his  death  1249. 

*Afl  a  modem  writer  has  committed  the  strange  blunder  of  marrying  Isabella 
to  her  own  son,  instead  of  her  fbrmer  husband,  the  following  note  is  subjoined 
ftOM  Speed,  no  slight  anthority  in  matters  of  genealogy. 

*Qnieea  iMbella,  surviving  king  John,  was  married  to  Hugh  le  Brun,  earl  of 
Mnchy  and  k>rd  of  Losignan  and  Valence  in  Poictou,  to  whomfirU  tlu  ihould 
km€  beem  tmarried,  hui  ytt  (^oi  tumeth)  continutd  ker  affectum  to  him  tiU  now.  By 
Inm  she  had  divers  children,  greatly  advanced  by  Henry  111.,  their  half  brother 
(ttd  aa  graatly  maligned  by  his  subjects).  The  eldest  was  Hugh,  earl  of  March 
and  AngoalSme ;  the  second  Chiy  de  Lusignan,  slain  at  the  battle  of  Lewes ; 
the  tbirdf  William  de  Valence,  earl  of  Pembroke ;  the  fourth,  Ajrmer  de  Valence, 
faiiliDp  of  Winchester ;  the  fifth,  Geoffrey  of  Lusignan,  lord  of  Hastings." 


ELEANOR   OF  PROVENCKj 


flUBNAMED  LA   DBLLB. 


QDEEN   OFHENRYin. 


CHAPTER   I. 


Elt-aiior  of  Prorcnc?— ParpDiBEe— Biriti— Talenu— Poem  writtm  by  ! 
beauty — Henry  acappls  EIpbhot  witboul  dowry — Escorted  lo  EnfUml- 
ried  nl  OtDlerbory— -Crowned  iit  WpilminMBr — Coctnme  and  ]«wel> — I 
■Itention  lo  dresi — Rapncily  of  the  ijaeen't  relalivsi — Binlk  or  hei  ehlcMMt 
—  PuuIinKs  in  her  obambers — Attempt  on  the  kiag't  llfh — Eleauor  nilM  M 
kin^— Birth  of  bei  sldost  daughter — Queeu  aocanipanie)  the  kittg  to  GttiaM 
— Birth  of  the  princeu  Beuiict! — Return  to  Enslaiid — Tmboiencc  iif  riiWfrt 
un^le— Etennor's  teeond  ton  bom — Kingnud  qupsn  robbed  rm  the  higbMq^ 
_SleaDOt'e  unpopulariiy  in  London — Dower  —  Elennor's  nrother^ — -Kint  pi*** 
■bIb — Mnrriapeof  princPH  Marfiaret — Projected  cnts»il« — EiMM 
leen-regent— King's  tlefinriuro  for  Goicnne — Makes  hii  wiB— ■» 
a  loyal  power  to  Elesuor — PriniHMa  Katliurino  born. 

i  of  Provence  waa  perhnpa  the  moat  unpopoUr  queen  te 

OTtr  presided  over  the  couii  of  England.  She  was  imrortanalely  tiiU 
to  share  the  crown  and  ro}til  dignity  of  a  feeble-minded  sovrrei^alu 
earlier  age  ihan  any  of  lier  predecessors ;  for,  at  the  time  of  W  Il■^ 
riage  with  king  Henry,  she  had  scarcely  completed  her  fourteenth  ytati 
a  penod  of  life  when  her  education  was  imperfect,  ber  Judgiuoit  n* 
formed,  and  her  character  precisely  thai  of  a  spoiled  child,  of  pncociuB 
beauty  and  genius  —  perilous  gifts!  which  in  her  case  aerved  bui  to 
foster  Tanily  aiid  sclf-sulHciency. 

This  princess  was  ilie  second  of  the  6Te  beautiful  daughl«ra  of  Beiw 
ger,  count  of  Provence,  tlie  grandson  of  Alfonso,  king  of  .Amfw 
Berenger  was  the  last  and  most  illustrious  of  the  royal  Provonf^  oountii 
and  even  had  he  not  been  the  sovereign  of  the  land  of  song,  his  o«9 
verses  would  have  entitled  him  to  a  distinguished  rank  among  the  trw- 
Iwdour  poets.'  His  consort  Beatrice,  daughter  of  Tbnnus,  ftmnl  of 
Savoy,  was  scarcely  less  celebrated  for  ber  learning  and  Uiemry  fowm.' 

From  her  accomplished  parents  the  youthful  Eleanor  inheriled  boA* 
natural  taste,  and  a  practical  talent  for  poetry,  which  the  «ny  m  A 

>  M.  PBtia.  ■  SismoDdi's  Litetalure  oT  tfaa  £ea«k 

'According  lo  «ome  writpts,  ahe  was  the  friend  anil  coirespemlenl  of  Sidtfl 
Coeut  d«  Lion,  and  it  hu  boaa  pnerally  tuppoHHl  thst  the  caOolDiliBgt  >*>■* 
£nK>y«,  in  hi>  eelebtiued  prUon  poem,  bcKiiuiiog  ■  Comleue,''  ii  aiUn^al  * 
tbLt  liuly,  lo  whom  alra  he  ii  laid  lo  have  icot  a  copy  of  his  wpna^^  RbaaA 
mad  J.  P,  Aadnwt, 


SLSAICOR    OF    PROVENCE.  47 

•bretthed  tended  to  foster  and  encourage.    Almost  before  she  entered  her 
teeos,  she  had  composed  an  heroic  poem  hi  her  native  Proven9al  tongue. 

This  work  is  still  in  existence,  and  is  to  be  found  in  MS.,  in  tlie  royal 
library  at  Turin.*     The  composition  of  this  romance  was  the  primary 
ciuse  to  which  the  princess,  or  (as  she  was  then  styled^  the  infanta  of 
Provence,  owed  her  elevation  to  the  crown-matrimonial  of  England. 
Her  fiither^s  major-domo  and  confidant,  Romeo,'  was  the  person  to  whose 
able  management  count  Berenger  was  indebted  for  his  success  in  match- 
ing his  portionless  daughters,  with  the  principal  potentates  of  Europe. 
No  doubt,  to  Romeo's  sagacious  advice  the  following  steps  taken  by 
young  Eleanor  may  be  attributed. 

She  sent  to  Richard,  earl  of  Cornwall,  Henry  the  Third's  brother,  a 
fine  Provencal  romance  of  her  own  inditing,'  on  the  adventures  of  Blan- 
din  of  Cornwall,  and  Guillaume  of  Miremas,  his  companion,  who  under- 
took great  perils  for  the  love  of  the  princess  Briende  and  her  sister 
Irionde  (probably  Britain  and  Ireland),  dames  of  incomparable  beauty. 

Richard  of  Cornwall,  to  whom  the  young  infanta  sent,  by  way  of  a 
eonrtly  compliment,^  a  poem  so  appropriately  furnished  with  a  {xdadin 
«f  Cornwall  for  a  hero,  was  then  at  Poitou,  preparing  for  a  crusade,  in 
which  he  hoped  to  emulate  his  royal  uncle  and  namesake,  Richard  I. 
He  was  highly  flattered  by  the  attention  of  the  young  princess,  who  was 
■o  celebrated  for  her  personal  charms  that  she  was  called  Eleanor  la 
Belle ;  but  as  it  was  out  of  his  power  to  testify  his  grateful  sense  of  the 
hoQoar,  by  ofilering  his  hand  and  heart  to  the  royal  Provencal  beauty  in 
letam  for  her  romantic  rhymes,  he  being  alr^y  the  husband  of  one 
food  lady  (the  daughter  of  the  great  earl  protector  Pembroke)  he  obli- 
giurij  recommended  her  to  his  brother  Henry  111.  for  a  queen. 

That  monarch,  whose  share  of  personal  advantages  was  but  small, 
and  whose  learning  and  imaffinativeness  far  exceeded  his  wit  and  judg- 
ncnt,  had  been  disappointed  in  no  less  than  &ye  attempts  to  enter  the 
holy  pale  of  matrimony,  with  as  many  different  princesses.  Henry 
would  fitin  have  espoused  a  princess  of  Scotland,  whose  eldest  sister  had 
married  hia  great  minister  Hubert  de  Burgh  ;*  but  his  nobles,  from  jeal- 
ousy of  Hubiert,  dissuaded  him  from  this  alliance.* 

*  Nostrodamna,  Hiit.  of  Troubadours. 

'  CrescembinL  Romeo  is  mentioned  by  Dante  as  one  of  the  greatest  Italian 
poett  of  hit  tim«;  be  was  tutor  to  Eleanor  and  her  sister  Marguerite. 

'  Lirea  of  the  Troubadours,  by  Nostrodamus,  who  very  stupidly  mistakes  Rich- 
ard, earl  of  Cornwall,  for  his  uncle  Cceur  do  Lion ;  but  Fauriel  has,  in  tlie  Revue 
des  Deox  Mbndes,  satisfiuitorily  explained  the  blunder. 

*The  poem  written  by  the  princess  Eleanor  bears  marks  of  its  origin,  being 
pRcisely  the  sort  of  composition  that  a  child,  or  jroung  girl  of  some  genius  and 
Unle  literary  eiporience  miglit  have  composed.  It  was  not  without  iu  popula- 
rity in  bar  native  country,  where  it  is  yet  remembered.  Probably  the  young 
Eleanor  received  some  assistanoe  firom  her  mother  and  fhther,  as  the  countess 
Brairiee  and  the  count  Berenger  were  both  poeu  of  great  popularity  in  tlie  Pro- 
vni^l  dialect — Fauriiij  Rtvue  dn  Deux  Mo9uUm. 

*  It  was  reported  to  king  Henry,  by  Hubert's  jealous  foes,  that  he  had  dissuaded 
a  lady  fhmi  folfllling  her  engagement  with  the  king,  by  telling  her  ^  that  Henry 
waa* a  aqninteyed  fbol,  a  lewd  man,  a  leper,  deceitful,  perjured,  more  fiunt« 
iManed  than  a  woman,  and  utterlf  unfit  for  the  company  oC  an^  fa^i  ov  tMC^\% 
lady"     (ArticJef  a/* /miwacfamen^  Sneed.)  ^'BLa^vou 


CLEinOK     OP    FROVEKCS 


.  Ao»-  * 


I 


r  then  vainly  suwl  for  a  conson  in  ihe  rnurtt  of  Brvta^i 
d  Buherau  ;  and  al  length,  wholly  Aiapiriun]  hj  hb  vnni  n(  ouo 
_.,Jrfal  every  mairbnonial  nt-g-ftialion  inio  whirh  he  hmit  tntenf^i  Ae 
TO^  Cwleht,  havin'  arrivcil  ai  (he  age  of  iweniy-ifTe,  began,  no  dmAt. 
to  imagine  himvetf  deTotcd  to  a  life  of  single  bleisethieu,  and  reniabtil 
fonr  years  without  further  attempts  to  provide  himself  with  a  qiit«n. 

In  IS39,  howcvn,  he  agiun  tnolc  rnnnigr,  and  offered  bis  li.'iiii]  (o 
Joanna,  the  daitghier  of  ihp  rarl  of  Ponthicu;  and  harjn- 
time  in  his  life,  received  a  favourable  answer  to  his  pmpii- . 
of  marriage  with  this  lady  wan  ni^ied,  and  ambanxadors  <l 
ihe  ij(i[w'i  dispeuBation ;  but  when  diey  were  wiihin  a  (i'a         :    , 
(ley  of  Rome,  Henry  »ent  word  that  he  had  altered  his  miud,  iiud  diirjfJ 
ihern  not  to  proceed.' 

Tliia  sudden  change  of  pnrpnsG  was  occuioned  by  the  agreeable  i» 
prcesion  Henry  had  r«rived  from  his  bruiher  Richard,  wrl  ofConxral], 
of  the  beauty  and  brillumt  genius  of  his  (air  corrcspondeni,  Eleanor  of 
Provpncc' 

The  treaty  was  privately  opened  in  June  1239  ;  and  »  soon  at  Reoiy    < 
thought  proper  to  make  known  to  his  court,  that  be  luul  broken  hi)    ' 
engagement  with  the  maid  of  Pontbiru,  his  nobles,  according  to  \lt»    '■ 
mingfurd,  were  so  obliging  as  to  rvcmnmend  him  to  many  the  very  lidy 
on  whom  he  had  secredy  fixed  his  mind. 

As  Louie  IX.  of  France  (afterwards  styled  Si-  Louis)  « 
Rlcanor'a  eldest  sister,  the  infanta  Mar^crite  of  Provence,  HemyV 
sellurs  were  of  opinion  that  great  political  advantages  might  on  d 
from  (his  alliance. 

Henry  discreetly  made  choice  of  three  sober  priests,  for  his  _ 
tors  at  the  court  of  count  Berenger.'  The  bishops  of  Kly  and  ■ 
coin,  and  the  prior  of  Ilurlc ;  to  these  were  added  llie  masln  < 
Temple.  Though  Hpiiry'a  age  more  than  doubled  that  of  the  fiorBi 
of  Provence,  of  whose  charms  and  accomplishments  he  had  recvinJ  ' 
such  favoumble  repoits,  and  he  was  aware  thai  the  poverty  of  the  Evn^ 
Tons  count  her  father  was  almost  proverbial,  yet  the  king's  const! dmooil 
covpiousness  impelled  him  to  demand  the  enormons  portion  of  tntnir 
tliousnnd  inark^,  with  this  (kirest  flower  of  the  land  of  roee^  and  aweri 
song. 

Cunnt  Berenger,  in  reply,  objected  on  the  put  of  his  daughter,  to  IM 
very  inadeqnaie  dower  Henry  wotdd  be  able  to  settle  upon  her  duiiif 
the  life  of  his  niollier  queen  Isabella.  Heury,  on  this,  proceeded  to 
lower  hit  demands  from  one  eum  to  another,  till  finding  that  thv  ima^ 
veriohed  but  high-epiriied  Provencal  count  vras  inclined  t 
Rordid  manner  of  bargaining  for  the  nnplial  pc»lion,*  and  b 


BI.BANOR    OF    PROVENCE.  49 

alarmed  lest  he  should  lose  Uie  lady,  he  in  a  ^cat  fright  wrote  to  his 
ambassadors,  ^  to  conclude  the  marriage  forthwith,  either  with  money  or 
without,  but  at  all  events  to  secure  the  lady  for  him,  and  conduct  her 
wttdy  to  England  without  delay." 

The  contntct  was  then  joyfully  signed  by  count  Berenger,  and  the 
infcnta  Eleanor  was  deliveied,  with  all  due  solemnity,  to  the  ambas- 


HcDiy,  in  the  coarse  of  his  matrimonial  negotiations  with  the  count 
of  Pioveiice,  addressed  two  letters,  one  to  the  count,  and  the  other  to 
the  eonntess  of  Provence,  in  which  he  requests  them  ^  to  permit  the 
■■ptiik  of  Eleaoor  to  be  postponed  till  the  feast  of  St  Martin,  and  to 
•i^lain  to  their  daughter,  that  such  was  his  wish."  * 

Elaanor  was  dowered  in  the  reversion  of  the  queennmother,  Isabella 
«f  Angoul^me's  dower,  whose  settlement  is  recapitulated  in  the  marriage 
tnsaty  between  Henry  and  his  future  consort ;  but  no  immediate  settle- 
■eol  is  specified  for  the  young  queen. 

When  the  royal  bride  commenced  her  journey  to  England,  she  was 
attended  on  her  progress  by  all  the  chivalry  and  beauty  of  the  south  of 
Fiance,  a  stately  train  of  nobles,  ladies,  minstrels,  and  jongleurs,  with 
crowds  of  humbler  followers.  She  was  treated  with  peculiar  honours 
by  Thibaut,  the  poet-king  of  Navarre,  who  feasted  the  &ir  Provencal 
frincess  and  her  company  for  £ve  days,  and  attended  her  in  person,  with 
all  his  knights  and  nobles,  to  the  French  frontier.  There  she  was  met 
and  welcomed  by  her  eldest  sister,  the  consort  of  that  most  amiable  and 
wtaoas  of  kings,  St  Louis ;  and,  after  receiving  the  congratulations  of 
these  illustrious  relatives,  she  embarked  for  England,  landed  at  Dover, 
and,  on  the  4th  of  January,  1236,  was  married  to  king  Henry  III.  at 
Ganterboiy,  by  the  archbishop,  St.  Edmund  of  Canterbury.' 

Piers  of  Langtoft  gives  us  the  following  description  of  the  royal 
bride:— 

■*  Henry,  our  king,  mt  Westminiter  took  to  wife 
The  eaxrs  daughter  of  Provence,  the  fairest  May  in  lifb ; 
Her  name  is  Elinor,  of  gentle  nurture ; 
Beyond  the  lea  there  was  no  such  creature." 

All  contemporary  chrcmicles,  indeed,  whether  in  halting  English 
fhjrmee,  or  sonorous  Latin  prose— to  say  nothing  of  the  panegyrical 
siiains  of  her  oountrymen,  the  Provencal  poets— are  agreed  in  represent- 
ing this  princess  as  well  deserving  the  surname  of  ^  La  Belle.'' 

King  Henry  conducted  his  youthful  consort  to  London  in  great  pride, 
illendMl  by  a  splendid  train  of  nobility  and  ecclesiastics,  who  had  accom- 
■animl  the  sovereign  to  Ganterbuiy  in  order  to  assist  at  his  nuptials. 
nepaiations  of  the  most  extraordinary  magnificence  were  made  for  the 
approaching  coronation  of  the  newly-wedded  queen,  which  was  appointed 
\o  take  place  on  the  feast  of  St  Fabian  and  St.  Sebastian,  six  days  only 

tet  demand  of  20.000  marks :— 15,000^10,000— 7,000— 5,000— 3,000  marcarum. 
— Rymer**  FisdenL    It  i«  by  no  means  certain  that  even  the  paltry  minimum 
ten  DWDSd  by  the  royal  calculator  was  obtained. 
■These  letters  are  dated  the  10th  of  October,  1235.  *M.Pana. 

▼oi..  II.  —  5 


r 


OB     OP    PHOVEXCB. 


I 


I 

I 


after  the  bridal,  being  ihe  20lh  of  Januarj'.  Pre« 
ccremonv,  Henry  had  caused  great  improvetnenw 
palace  of  Weslminstcr,  for  the  reception  of  his  yon 

There  is  a  precept  in  the  twentieth  year  of  hts  reign,  direeiinf 

the  king's  great  chamber  at  Weatminater  be  psinlcd  a  good  gT«eii  colonr. 
like  a  curtain  :  that,  in  the  great  gable  or  frontispiece  of  the  s&id  e)am< 
ber,  a  French  inscription  should  be  painted,  and  that  the  king'*  liitle 
wardrobe  should  also  be  painted  of  a  green  colour,  to  imitate  &  cttrtMO." 
The  <iueen'3  chamber  was  beaotilied  and  adorned  with  historical  pui^ 
ings  at  the  same  time. 

The  Saturday  before  the  qneen  was  crowned,  Henry  Idd  the  first  matt 
of  the  Lady  Chapel,  in  Westminster  Abbey.  We  read  also  that  lbs 
good  citizens  of  London,  in  their  zealous  desire  of  doin?  honour  lo 
their  beauliful  young  queen,  set  about  the  scarcely  less  thnn  Hemilm 
labour  of  cleansing  their  streets  from  mud,  and  all  other  oilenaire  Km- 
mulalions,  with  which  they  were,  at  that  season  of  the  year,  rendenl 
ahnosi  impassable. 

This  laudable  purification,  which  must  have  been  regarded  alnuHtli 
a  naliodal  blessing,  being  happily  eflected,  the  loj-al  citizens  prepared  lU 
sorts  of  costly  pageantry,  before  unheard  of,  lo  gmce  the  coroouifl 
festival,  and  delight  the  young  queen. 

Eleanor  was  just  at  the  happy  age  for  enjoj-ing  the  spectncle  tt  iS 
the  gay  succession  of  brave  shows  and  dainty  devices,  so  elegnndr  d«- 
lailed  by  Matthew  Paris,  who,  after  describing  streets  hung  with  ilifltiM 
coloured  silks,  garlands,  and  banners,  and  with  lamps,  emsets.  and  otbir 
lights  at  night,  concludes  by  saying  : — "  But  why  need  I  recount  tbt 
train  of  those  who  performed  the  olbces  of  the  church  ;  why  de«ei3* 
the  profusion  of  dishes  which  fumiEhed  the  table,  the  abundancsof 
venison,  the  variety  of  fish,  the  diversity  of  wine,  die  gaiety  of  li* 
jugglers,  the  comeliness  of  the  alieudaiils  ?  ^Vhateve^  the  world  eodi 
produce  for  glory  or  delight  was  there  conspicuous." 

But  the  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  coronation  of  Eleanor  of  P* 
vence  must  have  been  the  equestrian  procession  of  the  citizoia  of  L* 
don,  who,  on  ^at  occasion,  claimed  the  othce  of  cellorera  to  the  Ulf 
of  England. 

The  claim  of  his  loyal  citizens  having  been  wisely  granted,  ther  n^ 
turousty  mounted  swift  hones,  and  rode  forth  to  accompany  tlia  kill 
and  queen  from  the  Tower,  clothed  in  long  gartnents,  embroidertd  wiifc 
gold  and  silk  of  divers  colours.     They  amounted  to  the  number  of  thw 
hundred  and  sixty.    Their  steeds  were  finely  trapped  in  array,  wuli 
sliining  bits  and  new  saddles,  each  citizen  bearing  a  gold  or  liiirt  nip 
in  his  hand  for  the  royal  use,  the  king's  trumpeters  !.>k. 
them  ;  and  so  rode  tliey  in  at  the  royal  banquet,  (betiei  r 
were  they  than  the  men  who  wear  long  gowns  in  the  ci: 
in  these  degenerate  days),  and  served  the  king  and  that  nt>'  . 
)rdmg  to  their  duty.' 


.Mnnlirw  Pnrii.     Ciiy  Record.     Sp>^eiJ.     Aa  cFllarcn  xhfy  handed  the  via 
the  ton!  builei. 


i)  ^e  tofal  builer 


SLBANOR    OF    PROVBNCB.  51 

The  mayor  of  London,  Andrew  Buckerel,  the  pepperer,  headed  this 
nlendid  civic  calvacade,  and  claimed  the  place  of  Master  Michael  Belot, 
the  deputy  of  Albini,  earl  of  Arundel,  the  gprand  boteler  or  pincema  of 
En^and ;  but  he  was  repulsed  by  order  of  the  king,  who  said,  ^  no  one 
ooght  by  right  to  perform  that  service  but  Master  Michael."  The  mayor 
mbmitted  to  the  royal  decision  in  this  matter  of  high  ceremonial,  and 
lerved  the  two  bishops  at  the  king^s  right  hand.'  After  the  banquet,  tlie 
arl-boteler  received  the  cup  out  of  which  the  king  had  drunk  as  a 
antter  of  right ;  and  Master  Michael,  his  deputy,  received  the  earPs  robes. 
Gilbert  de  Saodford  claimed,  for  the  service  of  keeping  the  queen's 
chamber-door  at  this  coronation,  the  queen's  bed  and  ail  its  furniture,  as 
her  chamberlain.' 

Alms  were  bounteously  distributed  to  the  poor  on  this  occasion,  king 
Henryf  with  all  his  faults,  being  one  of  the  most  charitable  of  princes. 

The  most  sumptuous  and  splendid  garments  ever  seen  in  England 
were  worn  at  the  coronation  of  the  young  queen  of  Henry  III.  The 
peaceful  and  vigorous  administration  of  Pembroke  and  Hubert  de  Burgh 
aad  filled  England  with  wealth  and  luxury,  drawn  from  their  commerce 
with  the  south  of  France.  The  citizens  of  London  wore  at  this  splendid 
ceremony  garments  called  cyclades,  a  sort  of  upper  robe,  made  not  only 
of  silk,  but  of  velvet  worked  with  gold.  Henry  III.,  who  was,  like  his 
fttfaer,  the  greatest  fop  in  his  dominions,  did  not,  like  king  John,  confine 
die  cMnders  of  his  wardrobe  rolls  to  the  adornment  of  his  own  person ; 
hot  liberally  issued  benefactions  of  satin,  velvet,  cloth  of  gold,  and 
nmine,  for  the  appareling  of  his  royal  ladies.  No  homely  dress  of  green 
cloth  was  orderiMi  for  the  attire  of  his  lovely  queen ;  but  when  a  mantle 
fined  with  ermine  was  made  by  his  tailors  for  himself,  another  as  rich 
WIS  given  out  for  Eleanor. 

The  elegant  fashion  of  chaplets  of  gold  and  jewels,  worn  over  the 
hair,  was  aidopted  by  this  queen,  whose  jewellery  was  of  a  magnificent 
order,  and  is  supposed  to  have  cost  her  doting  husband  nearly  30,000/. ; 
an  enormous  sum  if  reckoned  according  to  the  value  of  our  money. 
Eleanor  had  no  less  than  nine  guirlands,  or  chaplets,'  for  her  hair,  formed 
of  gold  filagree  and  clusters  of  coloured  precious  stones.  For  state  oc« 
cauons  she  had  a  great  crown,  most  glorious  with  gems,  worth  1500/. 
at  that  era ;  her  girdles  were  worth  5000  marks  ;  and  the  coronation 
present  given  by  her  sister,  queen  Marguerite  of  France,  was  a  large 
silver  peacock,  whose  train  was  set  with  sapphires  and  pearls,  and  other 
precious  stones,  wrought  with  silver.    This  elegant  piece  of  jewelry  was 

^  Ai  the  citizens  of  London  had  claimed  the  service  of  the  butlery,  so  those  of 
Winchester  claimed  that  of  the  royal  kitchen ;  but  the  doings  of  tlio  men  of 
Winchester,  in  the  capacity  of  the  cook's  assistants,  have  not  been  recorded. 
The  cloth  that  hong  behind  the  king's  tabic  was  claimed,  on  the  one  side,  by 
the  door>keepers,  and,  on  the  other,  by  the  scullions,  as  their  perquisite. 

'  Speed.     City  Records. 

"  See  the  elegant  description  of  this  kind  of  head-dress,  in  the  lay  of  sir  Laua 
fel,  written  a  few  years  aAer : 

*^  Their  heads  were  dight  well  withal, 
Each  with  a  jolly  coronal 
With  sixty  genu  or  mo." 


I 

I 


I 


KLKAMIK     OF     P  R  O  V  K  N  C  ■• 

twcd  u  a  rsMirToit  for  swei^l  watent  wliicli  were  furcei)  out  of  ib  bnk, 
into  B  buiii  of  sUver  chaiwiJ. 

Henry  dui  nol  (orgol  hl»  own  ipptrtl,  when  Ke  endowed  hi*  queen  to 
riclily  wUh  jcwcU ;  lie  wu  aoled  as  tho  firat  prince  who  won  the  eomlj 
iDklsrHl  nlled  baudekitu,  bmI,  urayvd  in  a  gaimeaE  of  ihia  brillitat 
UMue  of  gold,  be  lal  upon  bia  tlirane,  and  •*  glitlered  very  glarioosly,"' 
wbcn  his  young  mkI  tovely  queen  aluired  his  llunl  corotMliun. 

Tile  expenwa  of  Eleuior^s  curonaiiou  were  enorntous.  So  greU  mu 
the  outlay  beyond  the  lungVreeource»,that  lien ry  expended  the  p<^itioii 
of  hU  ftister  Ifsbctk,  Ju»t  manicil  tr>  iho  ctn)icror  of  Uermany,  for  ih« 
purpose  of  ddraying  llienu*  When  be  peiitioned  the  lords  for  a  thirlielh 
of  his  ■iihircts'  propprly,  bb  a  relief  from  liis  dilTii'ulueH,  thtiy  told  him 
*•  Uicy  hnJ  amply  supplied  funds  boUi  for  his  marriage,  and  iliat  of  tkt 
enipreaa-,  aiiil  as  he  had  wasted  the  money,  he  might  defray  the  uzpencet 
of  his  wedding  as  he  could." 

Oreat  oflijncc,  it  seems,  had  tJready  been  taken  by  the  nation  tl  lb« 
nniubor  of  foreigners,  especially  lialians,  who  had  accompwiied,  oi  fol- 
lowed, ijueen  Eleanor  to  Rutland.  Among  these  was  licr  uncle,  pMer  . 
of  Savoy,  one  of  the  yuuiiger  bruiliera  of  ilie  countess  of  ProTeoK, 
lienry  created  Peter  earl  of  Kichiiiond,  and,  at  the  suit  of  the  nuiea, 
bestowed  upon  him  thiU  pari  of  Loudon  itince  called  the  Ssroy,  fton 
this  ptiiice.  lie  paid  the  crown  but  the  nominal  nuit-r«nl  of  tlim  bm4 
arrows.  Peter  founded  there  a  noble  pnloce,  which  the  queen,  hi*  niMti 
afterwords  jntrchased  of  him  fur  her  soti  Edmund,  earl  of  Loncaslac-' 

In  the  course  of  one  short  year,  the  ascendancy  which  the  nnde  of 
hie  young  queen  guined  over  tlie  plastic  ntuul  of  Henry  was  so  cob» 
dendile,  Uiat  the  adminiairation  of  the  kingdom  was  entirely  left  in  ha 
discretion,  and  all  the  patronage  of  rhureh  and  slate  puaeil  ihruugb  ba 
huids. 

Kichsid,  earl  of  Cornwall,  at  tliat  lime  the  heir  praauniptiTfl  to  tin 
throne,  ihotuh  greatly  attached  to  the  king  his  brother,  reprobaied 
llenr)''s  conduct  in  permitting  the  iiilnisioii  and  interference  of  iht 
tiueeu's  foreign  relalivea  and  utleud&nts;  bidding  his  brother  "fuUo* 
llie  prudent  exnmple  of  their  brother-in-law,  tho  emperor,  who,  vhoi 
he  received  ilicir  sister,  l)ie  princess  Isabella,  sent  bark  all  her  tnio  ol 
followen."  The  king  of  Fmnce,  loo,  he  remnidnd  Henry,  hod  i^bi 
the  same  course,  when  he  married  the  elder  sister  of  queen  Eleanor.' 

In  tlie  fourth  year  of  hor  murriage  Eleiuior  brought  an  hcii  to  Eof 
land.     The  young  prince  was  bom  on  the  Ittlb  of  June,  1233,alWesi- 

■  Maulicw  P&ris. 

'Uuiiiy  )iaJ  iniieed  fined  lils  lifiet  out  wiili  a  aumpiuniu  wardnbc.  tht  i^ntA 

of  wliicli  lio  bad  iieiioeaU)'  auponnieiulo<i,  wiUi  ft  degree  or  niiiiiv"  - •■■'  •■ 

lining!,  liirnmingi,  puiflint^  bdiI  gnmitara,  perrcolty  lucprUing  ir    <:    .   . 
ceiftni  but   quite  in  acoordance  wlih  the  geDcral   (Hioliij  of    :' 
ohvocter, nnil  his  laalr  tot  finery.    He  bIu  r&vourod  ilieiKBoe'i  '■' 
viUi  a  parlioHlar  inTcnloir  of  iho  dreHS)  or  the  priiioi!**,  oail  n  <  I 

mulerlBl  and  feiJuon  of  t»c)i,  even  to  ibc  rvU  di  tfiaJiArt :  nini  Ija.int  I'j' 
extni-iHuni  for  liii  sialci'i  ouiwatii  Bdornineni,  w«  iLippiwe,  »aliifled  bis  bjO- 
mce,  bo  apprDjifialed  the  rest  of  bar  portion  u  bi>  own  use.      (ii^pH.  So^'l 


'  Pennaut'i  Lgndon.  ■  M.  Vm». 


SLEA50R    OF    PROVB!«CB.  53 

niinster«and  received  the  popular  name  of  Edwaid,in  honour  of  E«1ward 
the  Confessor;  for  whose  memory  Henry  III.  cherished  the  deepest 
Teneration. 

The  celebrated  earl  of  Leicester,'  was  one  of  the  godfathers  of  prince 
Edward*  and  held  him  at  the  baptismal  font :  he  was  then  in  the  height 
nf  &Tour  both  with  Eleanor  and  the  king.  But  the  scene  changed  be- 
fore the  queen  left  her  lying-in  chamber ;  for  when  she  gave  a  grand 
festival  on  occasion  of  her  churching,'  and  the  king  summoned  all  tlie 
ireat  ladies  of  the  land  to  attend  the  queen  to  church,  Leicester  brought 
his  newly  wedded  wife,  the  king's  sister,  to  perform  her  devoir  to  Elea- 
nor, but  was  received  with  a  burst  of  fury  by  Henry,  who  called  him 
**  the  seducer  of  his  sister,  and  an  excommunicated  man,  and  ordered 
his  attendants  to  torn  him  out  of  the  palace."  Leicester  endeavoured 
to  remonstrate,  but  Henry  would  not  heir  him,  and  he  was  expelled, 
veeping  with  rage,  and  vowing  vengeance  against  the  young  queen,  to 
whose  influence  he  attributed  this  reverse. 

Independently  of  his  noble  taste  in  architecture,  of  which  Westminster 
Abbey  is  a  standing  proof,  Henrv  HI.  was  undoubtedly  possessed  of  a 
love  for  the  fine  arts ;  for  we  find,  in  the  seventeenth  year  of  his  reign, 
a  precept  directed  to  the  sheriff  of  Hampshire,  commanding  him  to  cause 
the  king's  wainscoted  chamber,  in  the  castle  of  Winchester,  to  be  painted 
with  Saxon  histories,  and  the  same  pictures  with  which  it  had  been 
painted  before ;  which  proves,  not  only  that  historical  paintings  in  oil 
on  wainscot  were  then  in  use,  but  that  they  had  been  painted  so  long 
ihat  the  coloure  were  fiided,  and  required  renewing. 

Again,  we  have  a  precept  of  Flenry  111.,  twenty-three  years  afler  this 
perioid,  which  mns  thus :— <^  Pay  out  of  our  treasury  to  Odo  the  gold- 
smith, and  Edward  his  son,  one  hundred  and  seventeen  shillings  and  ten- 
pence,  for  oil,  varnish,  and  colours  bought,  and  pictures  made  in  the 
chamber  of  our  queen,  at  Westminster,  between  the  octaves  of  Holy 
Trinity,  and  the  feast  of  St  Barnabas,  the  same  year,  in  the  twenty-thim 
year  oif  our  reign.'' ' 

Among  many  other  proofs  of  attention  paid  by  Henry  to  his  young 
queen  on  the  birth  of  his  heir,  we  find  that  he  onlered  ^^  the  chamber 
behind  her  chapel,  in  his  palace  of  Westminster,  and  the  private  cham- 
ber of  that  apartment,  supposed  to  be  Eleanor's  dressing-room,  to  be 
freshly  wainscoted  and  lined,  and  that  a  list  or  border  should  be  made, 
well  painted,  with  images  of  our  Lord  and  angels,  with  incense-pots 
scattered  over  the  list  or  border."     He  also  directed  that  the  four  evan- 


'Simon  de  Montfbrt,  carl  of  Leicester,  the  third  son  of  Simon,  count  de  Mont- 
fbn,  the  sanguinary  leader  of  the  crusade  ajcainst  the  Albigetises.  He  had  8orve<l 
tlie  office  of  seneschalf  or  high  steward  of  the  royal  houitchold,  at  the  coronation 
of  the  queen :  and  this  year  Henry,  with  his  own  hand,  secretly  bestowed  upon 
him  hii  wiiiowed  sister,  Eleanor,  countess  of  Pembroke,  in  St.  Stephen's  chapel, 
though  the  princess  had  rowed  to  become  a  nun.  There  were  circumstance^,  it 
should  teem,  tliat  rendered  a  hasty  marriage  necessary ;  and  an  enormous  bribe 
fron  Henry  purchased  a  dispensation  for  tliis  marriage  from  tlto  iK)pe,  the  lady 
Having  taken  the  ring,  but  not  the  veil  of  a  nun. — Matthew  Paris.    Speed.    Rapin. 

'Sandford't  Genealogies.  '  Walpole*s  Anecdotes  of  Painting.     StruU. 

6»  D 


I 


I 


54  BLBANOR    OF    FROVENCE. 

{rdiflls  sliouli)  be  peinied  in  ilie  (jueen's  ehacaber,  and  ibat  b  etyilal  hm 
■hauld  be  made  for  keeping  the  relics  be  possessed. 

A  few  curious  particulars,  illuBtnitive  o(  the  ini«rior  of  the  uciat 
palace  of  our  English  kings  ai  Woodstock,  may  be  gnthered  frost  llw 
itiUowing  minute  instructions,  contained  in  a  precept'  ijdnjsurf  iy 
Henry  III.,  in  the  25tli  of  his  reign,  to  ibe  keeper  of  thnl  palace,  dinet* 
ing  him  "  to  cause  an  extension  of  the  iron  trelllsra  on  the  steps  lodiif 
from  our  chamber  to  the  hf.rbariiuH.  or  garden ;'  also  of  the  wmdca 
lattices  in  two  windows  of  our  queen's  chamber,  und  to  cause  a  ptM  n 
be  niade  over  tJiese  windows,  covered  with  lead,  and  an  apertun  lobl 
made  in  the  pent,  between  the  hall,  and  our  queen's  chamber,  tad  Ik 
chapel  towards  the  borders  of  our  herbarium,  and  two  windows  of  wtDtt 
glass  looking  towards  the  said  borders.  Two  spikes,  also,  in  the  pM 
of  our  hall,  and  windows  of  the  fame  kind  on  the  east  of  the  hall,  oiul 
the  piciures  now  in  the  hall  are  to  be  repaired.  And  we  deeire  thai  ill 
the  courts,  fountains,  and  walls  of  our  houses  there  be  repaiml" 

This  reign  affords  the  first  example  of  a  poet-laure&te,  in  the  panot 
of  one  Master  Henry,  to  whom,  by  the  appellation  of  ''  our  Mo*id 
versilicator,"*  ibe  king  orders  ^■'one  hunditNl  shillings  to  be  gt*n  ta 
payment  of  his  arrears."  This  officer  was  in  all  probabiliiy  introAicri 
into  the  royal  household  by  the  Provencal  queen,  who  was,  as  ««  hm 
seen,  herself  a  poet,  and  who  had  been  accustomed  in  her  early  yuQih 
to  he  surrounded  by  minstrels  and  troulmdours,  in  the  literary  comltf 
Iter  accomplished  parents. 

Henry  HI.  was  also  a  patron  of  literature,  and  a  great  lovra  of  P» 
venial  poetrj-.  Fauriel  points  out  seversJ  romances  written  tioderfll 
soperintendence  of  this  king,  who,  when  he  married  Eleannr  of  1^ 
vence,  received  a  parloer  whose  tastes  and  pursuits  certainly  aMitnibwi 
with  his  own  -,  and  to  thb  circumsiance  may,  no  doubt,  be  aiirifanli' 
the  unbounded  influence  which  she  acquired  over  his  mind,  wlurh  ^ 
retained  long  after  the  bloom  of  youth  and  beauty  had  passed  awiv. 

While  the  king  and  queen  were  still  residing  at  the  palxce  of  Woo4- 
stock,  about  three  roonihs  after  the  birth  of  their  heir,  an  attnnpl  n 
made  on  the  life  of  the  king  by  a  mad  poet  named  Ribald,  or  KibiM, 
who,  according  to  some  of  the  chroniclers,  was  a  gentleman  and  a 
knight.'  One  day  he  rushed  into  the  rovnl  presence,  aiMi,  befnts  tb 
whole  court,  called  upon  Hcniy  to  resign  the  crown,  wliich  he  W 
usurped  and  so  long  detained  from  hira.    The  officers  of  ibo ' 

'Rot  Libcimii,  25ih  Henry  Ut.,  m.  a3. 

'Otttdening  WBl  b/noniraDB  Di^slccled  in  Ilia  reign  of  tliupiiocw;  I 
Puie  meniioni  "that  lh«  iiiclemciii  year  1357  was  a  year  offomttu::  i.'ai  sff'"  ] 
were  •cnrce,  and  pears  jearce;  but  tbal  fig«  arxd  cli»rriea,  plu:n- 
Of  fhiilincludnt  in  ibelliihBd  imally  fflileil-"  Sevrral  of  ibc-  ; 
warili  named  in  our  aonDls,  as  laiely  iiiiioducni  in  ib«  reign  i 
bin  ifaorft  ii  DOt  n  dmibl  IlutI  the  ciTilizmioii  of  England  had  gi,' , 
Ihmi  tlie  lime  of  tlie  ProTaofal  ■gucvna.  During  the  li&rbuoiic  u,.,v  ..-..  '  ■ 
roign  of  Hrnry  V.  to  Rirlinrd  fll.,  England  bad  Ion  man}-  am, 
ture, — for  the  fruit*  te-introduced  in  iLc  reign  of  Beniy  VUL  wri< 
foltivaled  in  Ihai  of  Benty  IIL 

'Hiaifai,  HiiiDty  EichmMi.  'E^eod.    M-f^k. 


ELEAHOROP      PRnVENCB.  55 

ISrtti  Wm  out  of  Ihe  prMence-rharaber,  and  would  have  inflicW  a 

•enre  chastisement  npou  liim,  if  the  kind-heaneJ  monarch  had  not 

ItileqMwed,  and  charged  ihem  "  ntit  to  hurt  s  man  who  talked  ao  like  a 

-.Ml  out  of  his  scnBes,"     The  king  lold  ihem  "to  lake  him  into  his 

,  nud  entertain  him  hospitably,  and  let  him  go."    Thia  was  done, 

Uibnui  p>I  into  high  spiriiA.  and  began  to  be  very  amusing  lo  the 

:]  minne,  joeiilating  for  their  entertainment,  and  singing  some  choice 

■irelsy.'    Thns  he  whiW  away  the  time  till  daik,  when  he  stole 

ilie  king's  hed-chamber  through  a  window,  armed  with  a  long  sharp 

,  and  concealed  himself  among  the  rushes  under  the  king's  bed. 

Henry,  forinnBiely  for  himself,  pnased  that  night  in  the  queen's  cham- 

hrr.  and  Ribald,  rising  up  al  midnight,  stabbed  the  bolster  of  the  rdjrnl 

bed  »e»etal  times,  searching  for  the  king  in  vain,  and  demanding  wheVe 

Im  wa«,  in  a  loud  roaring  voice,  which  so  alarmed  Margaret  Bisaet,  one 

of  the  (joeen's  maids  of  honour,  who  was  silting  up  late  reading  a 

dcvom  fcwok  by  the  light  of  a  lamp,  ihai  her  shrieks  awakened  the  king's 

Mirants,  who   took  him   into   custody.     The   unhappy  creature  was 

Omoim}  at  Coventry  for  this  oflence.' 

The  following  year  two  other  uncles  of  ihe  queen,  Thomas,  count  of 
SiTov,  and  Boniface,  his  younger  brother,  visited  England  ;'  and  Henry, 
wit  of  complnisance  lo  his  consort,  received  and  entertained  them  wiih 
toch  roagni5cence,  (hat,  not  knowing  how  to  support  the  chaige  by 
liiflWl  means,  he  sent  word  lo  the  Jews,  that  unless  they  presented  him 
•Lih  twenty  thousand  marks,  he  would  eipel  them  all  the  kingdom ; 
mi  thus  lie  supplied  himself  with  money  for  his  unjust  generosity. 

TV  denih  of  Sl  Edmund,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  funiished  Henry 
'  I'ij  »  furtltcr  opportunity  of  obliging  Eleanor,  by  obtaining  the  nomina- 
!:  iif  her  uncle  Boniface  lo  the  primacy  of  England. 
Mjiiliew  of  Westminster,  as  well  oa  Paris,  informs  us  that  Eleanor 
ir,  with  her  own  hand,  a  very  elegant  epistle  to  the  pope  in  his  be- 
;,  "taking  upon  herself,"  says  the  worthy  chronicler,  (who  appears 
'  iiive  been  highly  scandalized  at  female  interference  in  ecclesiatlical 
ir^,}  '^  for  no  other  reason  than  his  relationship  to  her,  to  urge  the 
Mr  of  this  unauiiable  candidate  in  the  warmest  manner;  and  so," 
iinues  he,  "  my  lord  the  pope,  when  he  had  read  ihe  letter,  thought 
jrj-  lo  name  liiis  man,  who  hatl  been  chosen  by  a  woman ;  and  it 
:   I  iimiiioiily  said  that  he  was  chosen  by  female  intrigue." 

'>;iii'r  proofs  of  Eleanor's  unbounded  influence  over  the  mind 

i\  was  observed,  that  when,  on  the  death  of  Gilbert  Mare- 

I   Pembroke,  his  brother  Walter  demanded  of  the  king  the 

:   t^ifl  .Marshal,  which  was  hereditary  in  his  family,  Henry  at 

U  in  a  gi<i3t  passion,  denied  hiui,  telling  him,  ^  lliat  his  two  brothen 

TT  a  ptut  of  luibuleni  traitors,  and  tliat  he  had  presumed  to  attend  a 

'In  ilieM  Aajt  he  would  have  been  with  more  proprieljf  consigned  to  ito  My- 
hn  for  loruuic*.  Tho  MpreiBioo  of  "  nbald  rbymea"  w»«,  no  doobt,  derived 
BWB  (Im  BOina  of  Ait  rnntic  Terrifier  of  the  ihirlsenth  ocntuiy. 

'31.  ftwU.      Polydofo  Vergil.     SpMd. 


I 
* 


I 
I 
I 


I 


■  do  eiif: 

^m  The 

M 


BLBAXOR    OF     rROVEXCB. 

which  he  had  forbidden  him  U>  be  presenL"     Tm^  • 
the  ettri,  having  succeeded  in  biece^ticg  queen  Eleanor  in  hit  bioH^  1 
k^ia  preferred  his  suii,  it  vraa  iinmedulely  gramed  through  hec  povtr- 
ful  iulercesBton.' 

(ioedn  EUsnor  preAented  her  royal  husband  widi  a  daughter  id  the 
yosr  1241,  who  was  named  MHrgaret,  after  the  elder  sister  of  Cleaooi, 
ilip  queen  of  France.  The  following  year,  the  queen  accoiDintiinl  llw 
king  her  busbaud  on  his  itl-mlvised  expediltoTi  agaioat  her  brutlin-iii- 
Uw,  the  king  of  France,'  with  whom  that  pe&ce^oving  monarch  hiil 
BiiAared  himself  to  be  involved  in  a  quarrel,  to  oblige  hu  mother,  Inbdii 
of  Angoul^ute.'  The  king  and  queen  emWked  at  rori«mouih.  May  19, 
1242.  Henry  was  totally  unsuccessful  in  hia  aiUcka  on  the  kiiif  d 
France,  and,  after  a  seriea  of  defeats,*  look  refuge  with  his  quwo  al 
Bourdeaux,  to  the  great  scandal  of  all  his  English  knights  and  oobla^ 
niony  of  whom  forsook  their  sovereign,  and  relurned  hwBe,  wbieb 
Uenry  rerenged  in  tlie  usual  way,  by  fining  their  estates. 

Eleanor  gave  birth  to  another  daughter  at  Bourdeaux,  trhoB  i^ 
trained  Beatrice,  after  her  mother,  the  countess  of  Froveiu:e.* 

la  cousequcnce  of  the  close  conuexiou  between  their  queens,  Loa 
IX.  was  induced  to  grant  a  Inice  of  five  years  to  his  vanqubbcd  fiM 
Uenry  and  Eleanor  then  resolved  to  spend  a  merry  winter  u  Bourtei^ 
where  ihey  lunused  [hemselves  with  as  ntuch  feasting  and  yuff»aUjm 
if  Henry  had  obtained  the  most  splendid  victories,  alUiough  be  m 
much  impoverished  by  losing  tiis  military  chest,  and  his  moveude  chifit 
royal,  with  all  iis  rich  plate,  at  ihe  battle  of  Toillebouig.  ITUta  Satj 
and  Eleanor  returned  to  England,  they  landed  al  Portsmouth,  anil  coin 
were  issued  thai  the  principal  iuhabilanls  of  every  town  on  tbe  toWM 
bjndon  should  testify  their  loyal  aflectioa,  by  coming  forth  on  boW 
back  in  their  best  array,  to  meet  and  welcome  their  sovereign  ind  Ul 
queen.' 

During  Ihe  residence  of  the  royal  family  on  the  continent,  qosa 
Eleanor  strengthened  her  interest  by  bringing  about  a  onion  betwteatar 
youngest  sifter  Cincia,  or  Sancha,  and  tlie  kjng's  brother,  Rirliard,  mI 
of  Cornwall,  who  had  recently  became  a  widower.    The  (r.^,,;.™  »« 
solemnized  in  England,  whither  the  countess  of  Provence  ■ 
affianced  bride  in  the  autiunn  of  tlie  same  year.     Henry  <■■; 
Jews  to  furnish  the  funds  for  the  splendid  festivities,  whi' 
proper  to  ordain  in  honour  of  the  nuptials  between  his  tir 
sister  of  his  queen.     One  Jew  alone,  the  rich  Aaron  of  T  ■ 
pelled  to  pay  no  less  than  four  hundred  marks  of  gold,  an  :  . 
of  sHver;  and  the  Jews  of  London  were  mulcted  in  lik.     ■ 
The  charge  Henry  was  at,  on  account  of  tins  marriage,  may  tw  nsiimWni 
by  the  wedding-dinner  alone,  which  consisted  of  thirty  ttiousand  dolK 
"  The  kuig,"  say  the  chroniclers  of  that  day,  ■*  thought  lie  never  OMB 
do  enough  to  testify  his  love  for  the  queen  and  her  fomily."' 

The  countess  of  Provence,  not  contented  with  the  splctMlouf  of  ^ 


*  Sm  the  prscvdii^  bkva)^ 


SLBANOR     or    PROTENCG. 


57 


iMmnent,  (honghl  proper,  before  she  departed,  lo  borrow  four 

il  marka  of  the  kinj  for  the  use  of  her  hueband. 
a  mtMeonduct  of  Rleaiior's  ancles,  uid  their  unfitHMs  for  ihs  high 
poRsible  aitnalion,  in  which  ihey  were  placed  in  England,  may 
IhCTcd  from  the  following  disgraceful  fracas,  which  look  place  be- 
■  itie  archbishop  Bonifaee  and  the  monks  of  St.  Bartholomew-.  In 
r  im,  Boniface,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  thought  proper  to 
e  himself  in  the  bishop  of  London's  diocese,  on  a  viiitation  lo  the 
jinury  of  Sl  Bartholomew.  The  monks,  ^ough  they  liked  not  his 
eoomf ,  received  him  with  respect,  and  came  out  in  solemn  procession 
i«ni«Mhim;  hut  the  archbishop  said  "he  eame  not  to  receive  honour, 
hm  tar  the  purposes  of  ecclesiastical  visitatitMi.'"  On  this,  the  monks 
nplml,  '*  ihnt  having  a  learned  bishop  of  their  own,  they  ought  not  lo 
be  THtlrd  bv  any  other.^'  ■  This  answer  was  so  much  resented  by  the 
vraihful  primate' thai  he  smote  the  sub-prior  on  the  face,  exclaiming  in 
ijiiL'OTemcd  fary,  "  Indeed,  indeed,  doih  it  become  ye  English  traitors 
■  u.i  withstand  me  ?"  and,  with  oaths  not  proper  to  repeat,  he  lore  the 
1  \-<>pe  of  the  sub-prior  to  pieces,  and  trampled  it  under  his  feet,  and 
it  liim  DgKtnst  a  pillar  of  the  chnncel  with  such  violence  thai  he  had 
~(gft  slain  him.  The  monks  seeing  their  sub-prior  thus  maltreated, 
I  the  arehbtshop  back,  and  in  so  doing  dtscovered  that  he  was 
i  in  armour,  and  prepared  for  battle.  The  archbishop's  attendants, 
e  all  Proven^ls  to  a  man,  then  fell  on  the  monks,  whom  they 
I,  and  trampled  under  foot.  The  monks,  in  their  rent  and 
BjamwRU,  ran  to  show  their  wounds  and  to  complain  of  their 
^  to  tiieir  bishop,  wbo  bade  them  go,  and  tell  the  king  thereof. 
tRly  four  who  were  capable  of  getting  as  far  as  Westminster,  pro- 
I  to  the  palace  in  a  doleful  plight ;  but  the  king  would  neither  see 
-WT  receive  their  complaint,'  The  populace  of  London  were,  how- 
■  g«at  indignation,  and  were  disposed  to  tear  the  archbishop  to 
I  pursDing  him  all  the  way  to  Lambeth  wirii  wecrations,  crying 
f "  Where  is  this  mOian,  this  cruel  emiter  ?  He  is  no  winner  of 
^acter  of  monev — a  stranger  bom,  unlearned,  and  unlaw- 
Boniface  fled  over  lo  the  palace,  where  he  made  his  story 
Il  Ihe  king,  through  the  influence  of  ihe  queen,  his  niece ;  and 
imlU  of  St  Bartholomew  got  no  redress. 
Il  this  time,  Henry,  it  is  said,  ordered  all  the  poor  children,  from 
laand  highways  round  Windsor  and  its  neighbourhood,  lo  be 
1,  anil  munificently  feasted  in  the  great  hall  of  the  palace  there. 
!■  tho  royal  children  were  all  publicly  weighed,  and  their  weight 
IT  dtatribnled  in  alms  among  the  desutute  individuals  present,  for 
1  of  the  souls  of  the  princely  progeny  of  himself  and  queen 

i  lie  following  year.  1244,  the  threatened  war,  between  England  and 
■laiiil.  was  averted  by  a  contract  of  marriage;  in  which  the  liand  of 
■Idcst  daughter  of  Henry  and  Eleanor,  the  infant  lady  Margaret,  was 
'arfd  to  the  heir  of  Scotland,  the  eldest  son  of  Alexander  11.' 


I 
I 

I 


I 


I 


98  ELEANOB    OF    FBOTE5CS. 

Id  tl)«  beginning  of  the  year  1245,  the  queen  was  delirerod  of  in 
second  son,  prince  Ealmund.  The  porliameni  having,  in  llio  prKcdiBt 
November,  relused  an  aid  to  the  king,  he  levied  a  fine  of  fifleen  hnndnB 
marks  on  the  city  ot  London,  under  pretence  that  they  had  ■bellati 
one  Walter  Bukerel,  whom  he  had  banished.  Henry  was  encoin^cd  k 
his  unconstitutional  proceedings,  by  a  very  trivial  circuntslanee,  A  £n 
broke  out  in  the  pope's  palace,  and  destroyed  the  chamber  la  wbillLlkl 
principal  deed  of  Magna  Charta  was  kept,  which  made  the  quocn  iuij 
tliat  it  was  rendered  null  and  void.' 

England  was  at  this  period  in  such  a  state  of  misrule,  that  in  Ilaiw- 
shire  no  jury  dared  to  lind  a  bill  against  any  plunderer;  nor  om  IM 
tysteni  of  universal  pilluge  confined  to  the  weak  and  undefended,  sian 
Matthew  Paris  declares  "  king  Henry  complaiued  to  him,  that  wboihi 
was  Itaveliing  with  the  queen  through  that  pouniy,  iheir  Ivgg^^m 
robbed,  iheir  wine  drunk,  and  themselves  insulted  by  the  lawless  nbUs." 

Such  was  the  insuigent  stale  of  Uampshiie,  that  king  Henry  toM 
find  no  judge  or  justiciary,  who  would  undertake  to  aee  the  laws  dilf 
executed.  In  this  dileiQioa,  he  was  forced  lo  sit  on  the  bench  of  jiislill 
himself  in  Winchester  Castle  j  and  no  doubt  the  causes  detenniiwd  tf 
him  would  have  been  well  worth  the  attention  of  modem  ropatW* 
While  thus  presiding  personally  on  the  King's  Bench,  Henry  hw  oc» 
■ion  to  summon  lord  Cliflord  to  answer  at  this  justice-«eat  br  teat 
nalefaclion ;  when  the  turbulent  misdoer  not  only  contumMJou^l^ 
fused  his  Btiendance,  but  forced  the  king's  officer  to  eat  the  rojnl  nr> 
rant,  seal  and  all!'  Henry  punished  him  with  spirit  and  caang». 

One  great  cause  of  the  queen's  unpopularity  in  Londont  orifuMJ 
from  the  unprincipled  manner  in  which  she  exercised  licr  iatliMtict  tc 
compel  all  vessels  freighted  with  com,  wool,  or  any  peculiarly  valwUi 
cargo,  to  unlade  their  cargoes  at  her  hithe,  or  quay,  called  ^uecnhUkf: 
because  at  that  port  (the  dues  of  which  formed  a  part  of  the  r«veiuiei  ti 
the  queen-consorts  oi'  England,)  the  tolls  were  paid  according  10  lb 
value  of  the  lading.'  This  arbitrary  mode  of  proceeding  was  wilbost 
parallel  on  the  part  of  her  predecessors,  and  was  considered  as  a  icrm> 
grievance,  by  the  masters  of  vessels,  and  merchants  in  general.'  JttkM 
Deaaor,  for  a  certain  sum  of  money,  sold  her  tights  in  this  quay  tn  kr 
brother-in-law,  Richard,  earl  of  Cornwall,  who,  for  a  quil-rtmt  cf  IAt 
pounds  per  annum,  let  it  as  a  fee-farm  to  John  Uisnrs,  the  maycB  •* 
London,  for  the  sake  of  putting  an  end  to  the  perpetual  disputes,  bet«(M 
the  merchants  of  London  and  the  queen.* 

Ill  order  to  annoy  the  citizens  of  London,  Henry,  during  the  ilJitiW 
regarding  the  queen's  gold,  revived  the  old  Sxxon  custom  nf  c« 
folkoioles,  and  by  tliis  means  reminded  the  commons,  as  the  gretl 
of  his  subjects  were  called,  that  ihey  had  o  political  existe 
than  the  barons  of  England, — and  they  never  again  forgot  iL 

" '  M.  Paris-  ^        '' 

■  Hnrrisonj  Suivef  of  London.  ' 

■  Haiiiion's  Surrej  of  London.  T1>il  w< 
the  IbMinotee,  vtdch  were  iitad  by  t)ie  k 

afBuni  the  ma^Mnles  who  had  QSended. 


SLSJLIIOE    OF    PEOVBNCB.  59 

Modem  writers  have  asserted  that  there  was  no  middle  class,  in  the 
days  of  the  Plantagenets— what,  then,  may  we  ask,  were  the  citizens  of 
[4MMlon,  those  munificent  and  high-spirited  merchants,  whose  wealth  so 
often  in  this  reign  excited  the  cupidity  of  the  court  ?  If  the  conduct  of 
the  king  and  queen,  towards  this  class  of  their  subjects,  had  been  guided 
by  a  more  enlightened  policy,  they  might  have  found  in  their  loyal 
•flection  no  trivial  support  against  Leicester,  and  the  disaffected  aristo- 
eiacy  of  En^nd ;  but,  excited  by  the  rapacity  of  Eleanor,  the  king  pil- 
laged and  outraged  the  citizens,  till  they  threw  their  weight  into  the 
■ale  of  the  mighty  adversary  of  the  monarchy. 

Qpeen  Eleanor  was  somewhat  relieved  from  her  pecuniary  difficulties 
Ky  the  death  of  the  queen-mother,  Isabella,  in  1246.  She  was  put,  aAer 
this  event,  in  full  possession  of  the  dower  lauds  appointed  for  the  Eng^ 
lish  queens;  she  however  appropriated  her  replenished  purse  to  the  use 
of  her  mother,  who,  now  a  widow,  paid  another  visit  to  England,  to  the 
great  indignation  of  Henry.  The  king  was  discontented  at  the  manner  in 
which  count  Berenger  had  disposed  of  Provence,  to  the  exclusion  of  his 
ddest  dauffhters.  He  was,  besides,  very  little  able  to  afford  gif\s  to  his 
wife's  moUier,  since  he  had  not  at  that  very  time  wherewithal  to  meet 
his  household  expenses.  He  was  advised,  as  the  parliament  refused  to 
assist  him  with  more  money,  to  raise  the  sum  required  to  satisfy  his 
damorous  creditors,  by  selling  his  plate  and  jewels.  ^  But  where  shall 
I  find  purchasers,  if  money  be  so  scarce  ?''  demanded  the  king.  ^  In  the 
city  of  London,^  was  the  reply.  On  this,  Henry  petulantly  observed, 
*^  If  the  treasures  of  Augustus  Cossar  were  in  the  market,  the  city  of 
London  would  purchase  Uiem,  I  suppose.  Those  clownish  citizens,  who 
call  themselves  barons,  are  an  inexhaustible  treasury  in  themselves.''  * 

With  the  determination  of  participating  in  some  of  this  envied  wealth, 
Henry  and  Eleanor  thought  proper  to  keep  the  Christmas  of  1248  in 
the  city  of  London,  and  extorted  presents  from  the  most  liberal  of  the 
leading  men  there,  to  the  amount  of  upwanls  of  two  thousand  marks.' 
This  was,  however,  fiur  from  satisfying  the  royal  visitors.  Henry  com- 
plained that  he  had  not  been  treated  with  sufficient  respect,  and  to  testify 
his  displeasure,  proclaimed  a  fair  in  Tothill-fields,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
men  of  Westminster,  which  was  to  last  a  fortnight;  and  during  that 
period  he  forbade  the  citizens  of  London  to  open  their  shops  for  any 
sort  of  traffic,  to  the  great  injury  of  trade.* 

In  Henry's  thirty-k>urth  year,  occurs  his  order  to  the  master  of  the 
Temple,  ^  that  he  deliver  to  Henry  of  the  Wardrobe,  for  two  years'  use, 
I  eertain  great  book,  which  is  at  his  house  in  London,  written  in  French, 
eootaining  the  acts  of  the  king  of  Antioch,  and  of  other  kings."  It  had 
been  compiled  and  illuminated,  under  the  care  of  Henry  himself,  and  if 
it  was,  as  supposed,  relating  to  Uie  crusading  Provencal  princes  of  An- 
tioch, it  would  be  a  valuable  history.* 

The  extreme  straits  to  which  the  king  and  queen  were,  at  times, 
teduced  for  the  money  they  profusely  lavished,  may  be  gathered  from 

» M.  Paris.     Speed.  ■  Survey  of  London.  ■  Stowe. 

•CUme  Rolls,  quoted  by  Brayley.    Hist  Palace  of  Westminster. 


I 

^m  lb* 

^H    md 


VO  BLEAKOR    OF    PROVE^CCB- 

lliF  ftet,  that  in  th^  twrntynKvenlh  yew  of  tiis  tvign,  Heiin-,  Mf ' 
wiihout  the  meu*  iiT  fMvini;  llie  oRiMn  of  ihc  diap«'l  ruf  al  M  WindMii 
iMued  m  unliT  tu  John  MHniHrl,  directint;  him  "  lo  pawii  the  moat  nlfr 
able  image  uC  the  Vir^n  Mu-y  for  (lie  iiuru  iequiiv<l.  bui  undet  npwal 
condiiion  that  thi*  luillowed  p]cilg>«  be  ctepooiteid  in  a  decent  plstcc."' 

In  the  year  1240,  the  roynl  coflcn  being  entirely  fxhnniied,  1111]  dw 
parliament  rrfiiiing  to  ^m  any  aid,  1 ) en ry  proceeded  to  pnuiiar  tlw 
degimdiiie  expedient  of  suliriiing  loans  and  gifts  of  every  person  ri  ceth 
diiion  wno  Liiien<d  hi*  presi!ii(-e,  usuring  i)iem  ''lliai  it  wnold  hei 
gtcatcr  an  of  charily  tu  b«(l>>w  money  on  nitn,  titan  on  those  who  wsu 
trotn  door  tu  door  begging  an  aim*.'*' 

The  king  and  qwecn  were  ne«i  eeixed  with  an  unw"ii' 
noniy,  and  noi  nttly  forhnre  to  ninke  expensive  ^nts  nm  I  ' 
put  nil  tiiBir  tcrvanta  on  ahort  allowrancei  nbrid^l  ihi  . 
nduanl  to  diabtirec  any  of  the  gntuiiiea  whieh  the  kinp  :i: 
Fjigland  had  been  acciutionied  to  bestow.     They  ruaaeil  it.  [.'ui  ua  iticir 
ruj'al  robes/  and,  to  rtb  the  expense  of  keeping  a  table,  they  hSj 
invited  Iheinfelvei,  with  thrir  son,  prince  Fdwan),  and  a  chosen  nombti 
of  their  foreign  kindrett,  or  bvouriiea,  to  dine  with  the  rich  tnini  if  (t> 
city  of  London,  or  tlie  CTeal  men  of  ilic  r<iurl,  and  mnnifiatnl  ttiurh  <!i>- 
content  unleas  preaonted  wiili  costly  gilts  at  their  departure,  which  ihr 
look,  nni  ns  uhligaiiuns  and  proob  ur  loyal  al&eiioii  to  ilicir  pewBi. 
but  aa  iiiatiera  uf  righL 

The  cry  of  the  land,  in  that  reign,  waa  agninat  foreign  infloeticeBit 
forei^i  oppression ;  and  it  was  a  proverb,  thai  no  one  but  a  Pnnmjtl 
or  B  Poicievin  hiui  any  hopes  of  advaneement,  eillier  in  ihf  "ifiK!  w 
church  J  and  which  were  held  in  the  grcalesi  abhorren... 
thcrs  of  the  king,  or  llie  uncles  of  ihe  queen,  it  was  dilfl<  :.. 

On  St.  Dunatan's  day,  I30I,  queen  Elcnnor'a  apartmLH'.- 
Oaaila  were  struck  by  lightning,  and  the  cliimney  of  tin    r       ..  '^  'i^ 
ah«  and  the  royal  children  were,  ww  thrown  down  by  tin 

'  Madox.  '  M.  Parit 

*A  liiieign  hisKirian  Jeclaio>   that  llio    1liiij,-iiiiu<'  nr  Uii?  Kjii;]',>t 
r»lgn  M  bartaroiu  u  their  inannprii.     T        ••    ■- 
repilnr  eotiAuion  of  longUFi.as  in  Engtiin  ' 
haul,     II  wn>  a  nisfk  or  nobilitjr  oud  Ri-  : 
NonDan-FiDiioli,  01  in  ProTBnpil  ■  and  mn 
thvni  not.    All  the  qawa'*  nun  ipokv  I': 

langtiH|p>  but  NDi-man-FtCQcb ;  the  uliun'li  iiliiIititk  )»iI  Liiiui ;  tho 
rnpipd  SBXOQi  tliertifute,  in  addiiioa  10  hrr  o^or  ailalbnuDoa,  pcm 
10  cnduie  the  plapiM  of  lbs  Tower  uf  BebrJ,  »Sonie  um,"  i^ 
farjr  wriWr,  "sunnEi!  (ibberiag,  ohatiBrlng,  wnffing.  anil  rnlingi  ' 
umbrM  iDn|cu<>  (uid  »Bp<<<siallrat  York)  ii  to  ibnrp.  dining,  ftofllag,  ■nd'tM 
Ihai  WF  ^uilitoii  IDPO  majr  not  undanlaml  iluu  lani^uage." — niifwi     " 


it  o(  wliich  r 


'  Eogliab  Uinna)(c.  u 
onu  lermnu.      xne  loag  niiuuii>D  wilb  l^T«no»  «kiu 
lion  or  llii?  riiiog  Isiigiwgi',  its  iharp  of  liannoDT  and  tj 
!igii  nf  El«n.ir  uf  PioTenrr.  and  b  " 

iiintty,  aidpd  Ihis  Itannfutioa.      It  !(  1 

11,  in  ordoi  10  prewne  ihi;  kinBs  poi      ,  .  _, 

•nlMivoiu,  had  10  be  nad  ia  ihne  lansuaKM — Saxon,  PMOoh,  wmt 


■  LBAHOR    OF    PROVBIfCB.  61 

»  shock,  and  reduced  to  dust.'  In  the  parks  many  oaks  were  rent 
mder  and  uprooted ;  mills  with  their  millers,  sheepfolds  with  their 
epherds,  and  husbandmen  in  the  fields,  were,  by  the  same  awful  storm, 
tten  to  the  earth  and  destroyed. 

The  year,  however,  closed,  more  auspiciously  than  it  commenced, 
tfi  the  espousals  of  the  princess  Margaret,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Henry 
d  Eleanor,  then  in  her  tenth  year,  to  the  young  king  of  Scotland, 
esander  IIL,  who  was  about  twelve.  The  nuptials  were  celebrated 
Ih  great  pomp  at  York,  where  the  royal  families  of  England  and  Scot- 
id  kept  their  Christmas  together. 

The  youthful  bridegroom  was  knighted  by  king  Henry,  in  York  cathe- 
■1,  on  Christmas-day,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  court,  and  the  next 
oraing  the  marriage  was  solemnized  at  an  early  hour.  Henry  endea- 
mred  to  persuade  the  young  Alexander  to  pay  him  homage  for  the 
■Im  of  Scotland ;  but  the  princely  boy  excused  himself  with  good 
Idreas  from  the  performance  of  this  important  ceremony,'  by  replying 
that  he  came  to  York  to  be  married,  not  to  discuss  an  af&ir  on  which 
B,  being  a  minor,  could  determine  nothing,  without  consulting  the  states 
r  his  kingdom.^^  Henry,  finding  his  son-in-law  was  of  so  determined 
^Hrit,  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  break  up  the  nuptial  festivities 
f  iiiflisting  on  his  demand,  especially  as  the  archbishop  of  York  had 
BBcrously  promised  to  be  at  the  expense  of  all  the  entertainment,  which 
ost  him  upwards  of  four  thousand  marks,  ^^and  six  hundred  oxen, 
teh,"  says  Matthew  Paris,  ^  were  all  consumed  at  one  meal."  * 
More  worthy  of  remembrance,  however,  than  these  enormous  devour- 
igi  of  the  hospitable  archbishop's  beef,  does  the  worthy  chronicler 
OBsider  the  dignified  and  princely  conduct  of  the  youthful  majesty  of 
eodand,  at  his  bridal  feast,  and  the  amiable  manner  in  which  he  suppli- 
Med,  on  his  knees,  with  clasped  hands,  to  his  ro3ral  father-in-law,  for 
le  pardon  of  Philip  Lovel,  one  of  his  ministers,  who  lay  under  the 
iai^s  heavy  displeasure  at  that  time.  The  royd  bride  joined  in  the 
Bdtion,  kneeling  with  her  newly-wedded  lord  at  her  father's  feet,  and 
inging  on  his  garments.  Henry  was  so  moved  by  the  artless  earnests 
»  of  their  supplications,  as  to  be  only  able  to  articulate  one  word, 
V^illingly,"  and  all  who  sat  at  the  feast  melted  into  tears  of  tenderness 
id  admiration.  The  object  for  whom  these  interesting  pleaders  used 
eh  powerful  intercessions  was  an  unworthy  peculator,  convicted  of 
seiving  bribes  in  the  dischai^e  of  his  office ;  nevertheless,  the  misjudg- 
I  sovereign  was  persuaded,  by  the  engaging  prattle  of  two  inexperi- 
eed  children,  to  invest  him  with  the  tempting  office  of  treasurer.  No 
ubt  the  royal  supplicants  had  received  their  cue  from  the  queen,  or 
me  person  who  possessed  the  means  of  influencing  them,  to  make  an 
pral  in  favour  of  Lovel,  for  it  is  very  improbable  that  at  their  tender 
e  they  would  have  thought  of  him  at  such  a  time. 
The  extravagance  of  dress  at  these  nuptials,  has  been  noted  by  many 
iters.  Matthew  Paris  declares  the  nobility  were  arrayed  in  vests  c) 
k  called  eointoisesj  or  quiniises;  and  the  day  afler  the  nuptial  cere- 

Stowa.  'Chronicles  of  MailrOB.  *  Matthew  ?«i\a,    ^t^««^ 


r 

I 

I 


cnony,  ihe  queen  of  England  anil  her  loilies  laiii  tliese  new  robe*  wiiict 
and  appeared  clad  in  others  sijll  mure  costly,  and  of  a  new  piun, 
The  robes  quiiUisei,  thus  named  ta  express  their  fanciful  quainwah 
were  upper,  or  superlunics,  with  no  sleeves,  or  very  short  oiiea,  bordcnd 
wilh  vandyking,  or  acoUoping,  worked  and  notched  in  various  paUenu, 
scarfs  were  worn  by  knights,  li  la  quitUUc,  meaning  thai  they  wtn 
ornamented  with  a  notched  border.  The  qtiiniiie  robe  was  worn  by 
queen  Eleanor  so  long  before  and  behind,  as  to  trail  on  lite  eround,  and 
was  held  up  with  one  hand,  lest  her  steps  should  be  iinpedeil.  The  &^ 
man  de  la  Rose,  speakins;  of  these  gaimenU  Arst  worn  by  Eleanor  taJ 
h«'r  court,  counsels  the  ladiea,  if  their  feel  and  aucles  be  not  «m*ll  tnil 
delicate,  to  let  their  robes  iail  on  the  pavement  and  hide  them,  whilil 
those  whose  feet  are  of  a  beautiful  form,  may  hold  up  the  robn  ui  Iroid, 
fur  the  convenience  of  stepping  along  briskly.  He  uncivilly  conipam 
the  ladies  to  pies  and  peacocks,  which,  lie  says,  "  delight  in  fEoilien  oC 
various  colours;  so  do  our  courl  ladies.  The  pies  have  long  laiN  lliai 
train  in  Ihe  dirt,  bul  the  ladies  make  ilieir  tads  a  thousand  tiiues  longrr 
than  the  peacocks  and  the  pies.^' 

Ladies'  head-dresses  were  singularly  elegant,  in  the  yonlh  and  mukilf 
age  of  this  beautiful  queen.  The  hair  was  gathered  up  under  a  golikn 
network,  over  which  was  thrown  the  veil,  or  covcrchef.  Those  woffltfi 
who  ventured  to  walk  in  the  street  with  only  the  caul,  garUiMl,uil 
bandeaus.  without  the  shelieiiag  veil  or  coverchef,  were  deemed  touio 
per  characters,  and  liable  to  insult.  The  unmarried  females  wore  W> 
hair  Aowing  in  ringlets  on  the  shoulders,  or,  if  their  tiessea  w«n  Wf 
long  and  luxuriant,  braided  in  two  tails,  and  tied  with  ribbouf ,  or k  Imi 
of  gems,  at  the  ends.  Tlie  veil,  surmouuied  with  a  bandeau,  was  miimri 
when  tliey  rode  or  walked  in  the  open  air.  The  queen  is  Bomatinci 
represented  with  the  homely  g'orget  or  wimple,  in  illuminatiofts  of  llMt 
lime.  The  gorget  fashion  imiiated,  in  cambric  or  lawn,  the  kni^bt'l 
helmet,  with  an  aperture,  cut  like  the  vizor,  for  the  &ce  to  peeoihraogh; 
and  very  lovely  that  face  must  have  been  which  did  uol  look  opf 
through  so  hideous  an  envelop. 

The  felicity  which  the  king  and  queen  enjoyed,  in  the 
celebration  of  their  daughter's  union  with  the  Scottish  king 
rupted  by  the  return  of  Henry's  discarded  favourite,  Simon  de  Mnatfitft,  | 
earl  of  Leicester,  who  had  passed  sis  years  in  a  sort  of  honotiniU* 
banishment,  as  governor  of  Gascony.  Deputies  had  been  sent  ftiw 
thai  province  wiUi  complaints  of  Leicester's  tyrannical  conduct,  and  br, 
having  succeeded  in  refuting  the  charges  of  his  Gascon  foes,  procMdoI 
to  call  upou  the  king  to  reward  him  for  his  services,  r«miniliog  bim  of 
his  royal  promise  to  that  e^cL  Henry,  with  infinite  scorn,  re{med,tliK 
'■  he  did  not  consider  himaelf  obliged  to  keep  his  word  with  a  tnitaL" 
Leicester  fiercely  told  the  sovereign  "  he  lied,  and  were  he  not  hit  kinf 
he  would  make  him  eat  his  words ;"  adding,  "  that  it  was  acarcely  f)^ 
■ibie  to  believe  he  was  a  Christian,  or  ever  bud  made  confession  <J  to 
■ins."  "  Yes,"  replied  the  king, "  I  am  a  Christian,  and  hare  nfien 
at  confessiou."  *•  What  signifies  confession,"  retorted  the  eaH,  "' 
oiii  repenisnee  i'*    *^  1  nevet  leputtol  of  Miything  ao  nmcb  iit  taf1^{ 


■  LCAIIOE    OF    PEOVBNCC.  63 

rejoined  the  intiilted  monarch,  ^  as  liaving  bestowed  favoars  on  one  who 
hm  so  little  gratitude  and  such  ill  manners."  AfVer  this  characteristic 
dialogue,  there  was  nothing  but  hatred  between  the  king  and  his  inso- 
kol  brother-in-law. 

To  add  to  the  troubles  of  the  king  and  queen  at  this  juncture,  even 
so  late  as  the  year  1252,  the  validity  of  his  marriage  with  Eleanor  was 
perpetually  agitated  at  the  court  of  Rome,  owing  to  the  king^s  capricious 
breach  of  promise  with  the  countess  of  Ponthieu ; '  and  this  year  he 
was  forced  to  obtain  bulls  at  a  great  expense  from  pope  Innocent,  de- 
ckling the  contract  of  the  king  of  England  with  Joanna  ^who  had  been 
lonff  married  to  the  king  of  Castille)  null  and  void,  ana  his  marriage 
wi£  Eleanor  of  Provence  good  matrimony.  In  a  little  time  we  shall 
tee  the  heir  of  Henry,  and  the  young  daughter  of  Joanna  enter  into 
wedlock. 

Henry's  temper  now  became  so  irascible,  that  he  quarrelled  with  his 
best  friends ;  he  was  more  extortionate  than  ever,  and  demanded  of  the 
clergy  a  tenth  of  their  revenues,  towards  the  expenses  of  a  projected 
cninde.  He  sent  for  the  bishop  of  Ely,  who  appeared  to  have  great 
influence  with  his  brethren,  and  endeavoured  by  flattering  caresses  to 
secore  his  interest;  but  when  that  conscientious  prelate  attempted  to 
reason  with  him  on  the  folly  of  his  conduct,  Henry  angrily  retorted, 
*^  that  be  did  not  require  any  of  liis  counsels,''  and  order^  his  officers 
^  to  torn  him  out  of  doors  for  an  ill-bred  fellow  as  he  was." ' 

Louis  JX.  of  France,  and  the  gallant  retinue  of  noble  crusaders,  by 
whom  he  had  been  attended  on  his  ill-starred  expedition  to  Palestine, 
were  at  this  time  languishing  in  the  most  doleful  captivity,  and  the 
flower  of  the  French  chivalry  had  fallen  victims,  either  to  the  pestilence, 
or  the  sword.  The  luxurious  Eleanor  of  Provence  talked  of  accom- 
panying her  feeble-minded  lord  in  a  crusade  for  their  aid,  but  it  was  not 
probable  that  she  would  abandon  her  painted  chambers  and  jewelled 
pomp,  to  expose  herself  to  the  peril  of  hardships  and  privations,  like 
those  which  her  sister  was  sufl^ering  at  Damietta. 

The  queen  was  this  year,  again,  in  imminent  danger  from  a  thunder 
storm ;  she  was,  with  her  children,  visiting  the  abbey  of  St.  Alban's, 
when  lightning  struck  the  chimney  of  her  chamber  and  shivered  it  to 
pieces.  The  abbey-laundrey  burst  into  flames ;  while  such  a  commo- 
tion was  raised  by  the  elements,  that  the  king's  chief  justice,  (who  was 
escorting  two  treasure-carts,  and  had  accepted  hospitality  at  the  abbey,) 
thinking  the  whole  structure  was  devoted  to  destruction,  rushed  forth 
into  the  highway,  with  two  friars,  and  as  they  went,  they  fancied  a 
flaming  torch,  or  a  drawn  sword,  preceded  them.' 

The  same  summer  Henry  made  preparations  for  going  in  person,  to 
quell  the  formidable  revolt  in  Guienne,  occasioned  by  the  recall  of  the 
earl  of  Leicester,  and  the  misgovemment  of  prince  Edward,  who  had 
been  appointed  as  his  successor  in  the  fourteenth  year  of  his  age. 

i^een  Eleanor,  being  near  her  confinement,  did  not  accompany  the 
king,  but  was  solemnly  invested  by  her  departing  lord  with  the  regency 

*  F<8il«trm,  vol.  L  ■  M.  Parii.  "  Hist,  of  the  Abbey  of  St.  iLVbixi  v 


64 


ANOa    OF    PKOVBNCB. 


n{  ihe  kingdom,  jrtinily  with  his  brother  Rtchanj.  eaH  of  Comwall,  the 
huslmnt!  of  htr  sislPr  Sanrha  of  Provence.  While  Henry  wm  wsiiin; 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  Portsmouth  for  a  fsrourable  wind,  he  made  hi* 
« ill,  »  hirh  is  a  VLTV  iiileresiiiig  document,  alfonhitg  proof  of  his  afet- 
lion  for  his  queen,  anil   the  unbounded  confidence  which  h«  reposed 

HENRY   THE   THIRD'S   WILL." 

'  I,  HfTiry  i'tnn  if  EriizTiiinl,  duko  of  KToriniindir  nnd  Aquiolnc,  tai  ml  of 
Ap.ji",  ^'li  'li"  Tui-.,lny  iiflrT  St.  Pewr  and  Sl  P«al,  in  Ihs  yeai  of  gnn  ItiX  »t 
S  ii(!iuii.-k,'  [inijuxjiii!  Ill  ^n  III  Giuoan]r,  1  mnke  my  will  in  the  fottn  folhiviiif: 
^1  u  ill  ilini  my  \i":1y  b>'  Liiru'd  in  llie  chutoh  of  the  bleited  Edward  of  Wot- 
iMh^i.T,  ill,  |,  I  .■  liTncDi — luTiiig  tormerly  &ppaint«d  mj  boAj  to  ba 

liiin'-'l  III  i:  ^  '  I  .  .  <<l  Loiiilon.  i  commii  the  Kuardiaiuhip  of  Bdni^ 
III  V  ■  ■■f  my  other  chililren,  snil  of  my  kingdoOL  of  Eel- 

lull.  I.  III,!     .  .  ■     N  111  W»1b«,  and  Ireland,  aud  Gascony,  W  mf  itli* 

trii.ii.  i-]ii-  ■  ■  li'  ■  I  ■■.■■I  Tliry  arrtra  ai  flill  B|re.  Alw,  I  bsqueath  Iha  mbw 
u  hull  III"  <-riimi<'»  of  Kt.'tii  i^ve  me,  to  the  unall  aliai  oT  the  aforenid  chiuck 

Though  lit;  lived  manv  rears  after,  Ht^nry  never  made  another  wiR. 
Kini;  Uenr\%  aiiendcd  by  the  ffreaicr  number  of  his  baroiH,  BaiJeit 
froni  I'ommoui)],  Mij^u^t  fiih  :  he  arrived  at  Bourdeaux  on  the  15th  of 
iitimand  of  his  army  in  person. 


E  I.  E  A  N  o  u    o  r    r  K  o  V  i:  .\  c  i: .  Gf) 

Kaihaiine — Folly  of  ihe  king — Qiicons  unpopular  conduct — Garrisons  Wind- 
Wf — Prince  Edward  robs  the  Templar:; — Queen  plcdj^es  jewels — Pelted  from 
London  Bridge — ^Takes  sanctuary— -Goes  to  France  with  the  king — Civil  war 
— King  and  prince  taken  at  Lewes— Queen  raises  forces  on  the  continent — 
Battle  of  ETeaham — ^Londoners  fined — Her  return  to  England — ^Prince  Ed- 
ward's cnuade— Household  expenses  of  the  queen— -Death  of  Henry  III.— <• 
Eleanor's  widowhood— Refonnds  St  Katharine's  hospital — Death  of  £leanor*8 
daughters — Royal  letters — Queen  retires  to  Ambresbury — Miracle  by  Henry 
in. — Eleanor  mkes  the  veil — Visited  by  king  Edward — His  dutiful  respect— 
Her  death — ^Petition  of  Jewish  converts. 

Wheit  Henry  IIL  appointed  Eleanor  regent  of  England,  he  lefl  the 
great  seal  in  her  custody,  but  enclosed  in  its  casket,  sealed  with  the 
impression  of  his  own  priyy  seal,  and  with  the  signets  of  his  brother, 
Richard  eail  of  Comwall,  and  others  of  his  councU.  It  was  only  to  be 
opened  on  occasions  of  extreme  urgency. 

Eleanor  was  directed  to  govern  by  the  advice  of  her  Toyvl  brother- 
in-law,  but  the  regal  power  was  vested  in  her ;  and  we  find  that  pleas 
were  holden  before  her,  and  the  king's  council,  in  the  Court  of  Ex- 
chequer, during  Henry's  absence  in  Grascony.  ^At  this  time,"  says 
Bfadox,'  ^the  queen  was  custos  regni  and  sat  vice  regit?^^  We  have 
thus  an  instance  of  a  queen-consort  performing  not  only  the  functions 
of  a  sovereign,  in  the  absence  of  the  monarch,  but  acting  as  a  judge  in 
the  highest  court  of  judicature,  curia  regis.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
bat  this  princess  took  her  seat  on  the  King's  Bench.* 

No  sooner  had  queen  Eleanor  got  the  reins  of  empire  in  her  own 

fauds,  unrestrained  by  the  counterbalancing  power  of  the  great  earl  of 

Leicester,  who  had  volunteered  his  services  to  king  Henry  against  the 

iniiTgent  Gascons,  than  she  proceeded  to  play  the  sovereign  in  a  more 

despotic  manner,  in  one  instance  at  least,  than  had  ever  been  attempted 

by  the  mightiest  monarch  of  the  Norman  line.     Remembering  her  for- 

nier  disputes  with  the  city  of  London,  she  now  took  the  opportunity 

of  gratifying  her  revenge  and  covetousness  at  the  same  time,  by  de- 

j&inding  of  their  magistrates  the  payment  of  a  large  sum,  which  she 

wwted  they  owed  her  for  awrum  regina^  or  queen-gold — a  due  which 

Ae  queens  of  England  were  entitled  to  claim  on  every  tenth  mark  paid 

to  the  king,  as  voluntary  fines  for  the  royal  good-will,  in  the  renewals 

pf  leases  on  crown  lands,  or  the  granting  of  charters.    Eleanor,  in  this 

inslance,  most  unreasonably  demanded  her  queen-gold  on  various  enor- 

liODs  fines,  that  had  been  unrighteously  and  vexatiously  extorted  by  the 

^ing,  from  the  plundered  merchants  and  citizens  of  London.     For  the 

lion-payment  of  this  unjust  claim,  Eleanor,  in  a  very  summary  manner, 

Committed  the  sheriff  of  London,  Richard  Picard  and  John  de  North- 

^pton,  to  the  Marshalsea  prison,  in  the  year  1254  ;*  and  the  same  year 


Hlatoiy  of  Exchequer,  ehap.  ii.  p.  47. 

*  History  of  the  Eseheqner.    Judicature  of  the  king's  court 

'  Pbicita  oomm  domina  regina  et  consilio  domina  regis  in  craitino  nativitatis 
|sa  Maria  anno  37,  Hon.  IX.  Ex  ngula  rotulor.  anni  illius  menes  Thoi.  et 
Camerar,  Rot  1.  4. 

*  Stow.    Harrison. 


0 


I 

I 


OT  CLEAKOR     OF    rROVB>CB. 

Ae  ag»in  eommiitpd  UiPin,  togMh«r  with  Kiclurd  fhrdpll,  dnper.  Die 
mayor,  v>  iho  nmo  prison,  for  •rreara  of  ui  aid,  towards  ihe  war  in 

GtMOBJ. 

Thwe  ftTbilmry  proceedings  of  the  <iuMn-regenl  were  reganied  wiui 
indignant  aslonianmrnl  by  a  city  guvemeil  by  laws  peculiar  to  itidf^ 
London  being,  in  fiirt,  a  republic  williin  a  monarchy,  who»c  priTilefa 
had  hilhcrlo  been  respecled  by  the  moit  dwpotic  Bovert'ijrns.  |l  biil 
b«en  hoped  that  Bichard,  rarl  of  Cornwall,  Elcanor'i  roajjulor  m  the 
delegated  regal  power,  would  have  restmined  her  from  such  reclden  qm 
—or  rather  wc  thould  siiy  abune — of  the  authority,  with  which  she  had 
been  invested  by  her  absent  lord  ;  but  since  his  marriage  wiib  hrr  usia, 
that  prinee  had  ceaseil  to  oppose  the  queeu  in  any  of  her  designa.  Ilia 
ibc  queen  aud  llie  counles*  of  Coiuwail  made  common  causr,  cnniriTiag 
to  govern  beiweoii  iheni  the  king  and  his  brother,  and,  through  ihoDi 
the  whole  realm,  uccording  to  llieir  own  pleasure,  whether  it  were  6k 
good  ur  evil 

In  the  beginning  of  the  year,  Flonor  received  instructions  from  Ac 
king  to  aummon  a  parlinmcnt,  for  the  purpose  of  demanding  an  aid  fiv 
carrying  on  tlie  war  in  Gascony.  Bui  finding  it  irapoMible  to  oblu 
tliia  grant,  queen  Eleanor  >enl  the  king  fire  hundred  marks  from  te 
own  private  eolTers,  as  a  new  year's  gili,  for  the  immediate  reli«f  of  ha 
mart  pressing  etigeaciM.'  Henry  then  direeled  his  brother  to  esUt 
from  liie  lucklew  Jewa  the  sum  required,  for  ijie  nuptial  festKJtin  of  hii 
heir.  As  soon  as  Henry  receivnl  the  glittering  fruits  of  this  uuquilf, 
he  aent  for  Eleanor,  to  assist  him  in  squandering  il  away,  in  the  t^ 
and  vain  espeusea,  in  which  they  mutimlly  delighted,  and  lo  grant  wok 
her  presence  the  bridal  of  their  eldest  son,  pnnce  Edwani.*  Fioum, 
who  loved  power  well,  hut  pleasure  belter,  on  this  welcome  summinii 
resigned  the  cores  of  government  tu  the  earl  of  Cornwall,  and,  wilh  h> 
sisUit,  itie  countess  of  Cornwall,  her  second  son,  prince  Edmund,  and  i 
courtly  reijoue  of  Indies,  knights,  and  nobles,  sailed  from  rortsnioinh 
on  the  ISih  of  May,  and,  Unding  at  Bordeaux,  was  jo)-fully  welcooied 
by  her  tiusband,  and  their  heir,  prince  Edward,  whom  she  had  not  seeii 
for  upwards  of  a  year.  She  then  crossed  the  Pyrenees  with  her  son, 
■nd  having  assisted  at  the  solemnization  of  his  nitpUals  with  the  in&nti 
Eteanora  of  Caslille,  relumed  with  tlie  royal  bride  sod  bridegroom  K 
king  Henry,  who  was  waiting  for  their  arrival  at  Bordeaui.  Inslgid  cf 
■ailing  from  thence  to  England,  tlie  queen  persuaded  Henry  lo  aeupl 
the  invitation  of  St.  Louis,  her  brother-in-law,  to  pass  soffle  days  at  lut 
court  with  their  Uain. 

At  Chartres.  Eleanor  enjoyed  the  pleasure  of  embracing  her  sister^  li< 
queen  of  Freuce,  who,  wilh  king  Louis  and  their  noblea,  Uiere  nAu'  I 
welcomed  dielr  royal  guests,  and  couducted  tliem  with  dl  due  ponp* 
Paris.'  Here  Louis  assigned  the  palace  of  the  Old  Tem|^,  lor  ifa*  W 
df^nce  of  his  royal  guests ;  a  domicile  thai  could  almoat  furnish  aeraO*  I 
moilations  for  an  army.  The  morning  after  their  arrival,  Henry  firt*- 
buted  very  abundant  alms  among  the  Parisian  poor,  and  made  a  tplEndid 
ruLi*.  ■  M.  Paiu.  ■  M.  Paris.     M.  WeBmlaMn. 


XLBANOR    OF    PROVBlfCB.  67 

ontertaiiunent  for  the  relatives  of  his  queen,  which  was,  in  memory  of 
ks  magnificence,  and  the  number  of  crowned  heads  present,  called  the 
Feast  of  Kings.'  Contemporary  chroniclers  record  that  neither  Ahasu- 
enis,  Arthur,  nor  Charlemagne,  ever  equalled  this  feast,  in  any  of  theit 
frr-fiimed  doings.  King  Henry  sat  at  table  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
king  of  Fimnce,  and  the  king  of  Navarre  on  the  left.  King  Louis,  with 
the  princely  courtesy  and  meekness  which  so  much  characterized  the 
niyal  saint  of  France,  contended  much  that  the  king  of  England  should 
take  the  place  of  honour;  but  Henry  refused  io  do  so,  alleging  that  the 
king  of  France  was  his  suzerain,  in  allusion  to  the  lands  which  he  held 
of  him  as  a  rassal  peer  of  France ;  on  which  Louis,  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  compliment,  sofUy  rejoined,  ^  Would  to  God  that  every  one  had 
his  rights  without  offence." ' 

At  this  memorable  entertainment,  queen  Eleanor  enjoyed  the  happi- 
ness of  a  reunion  with  her  four  sisters,  and  their  children,  and  her 
mother,  the  countess  of  Provence.  Ailer  the  royal  family  of  England 
had  received,  during  a  sojourn  of  eiglit  days  in  Paris,  all  the  honour, 
which  the  power  of  the  king,  and  the  wealth  of  the  fair  realm  of  France 
could  bestow,  they  took  their  leave  of  these  pleasant  scenes.  The  king 
and  court  of  France  accompanied  them  one  day's  journey. 

DeancHT  and  her  husband  landed  at  Dover  on  the  fiAh  of  January, 
lt55,  and  on  the  27th  made  their  public  entry  into  London  with  extra- 
oidinaiy  pomp.  They  received  a  present  of  a  hundred  pounds  sterling, 
which  the  citizens  of  London  were  accustomed  to  give  on  such  occa- 
lioiis ;  but  as  Henry  did  not  seem  satisfied,  they  added  a  rich  piece  of 
plale  of  exquisite  workmanship,  which  pleased,  but  certainly  did  not 
content,  this  most  acquisitive  of  all  our  monarchs ;  since,  a  few  da3rs 
after,  he  extorted  a  fine  of  three  thousand  marks  from  them,  on  the 
frivoloQs  pretence  of  the  escape  of  a  priest  from  Newgate,  who  was 
■censed  of  murder.  It  was  very  evident  to  the  citizens,  that  Eleanor  had 
not  foigotten  their  resistance  of  her  illegal  exactions ;  for  much  strife 
ttfucd  regarding  her  claims.* 

Eleanor,  who  was  probably  ambitious  of  being  the  motlier  of  as  many 
cmwned  heads,  as  those,  by  whom  she  had  seen  the  countess  of  Pro- 
vence proudly  surrounded  at  the  feast  of  kings,  was  much  elated  at  the 
pope  sending  her  second  son,  prince  Ekimund,  then  about  ten  years  old, 

■BLPvis. 

'M.  Paris.     The  king  of  France  alluded  to  the  detention  of  Normandy  and 
Aqirm,  the  inheritance  of  the  House  of  Plantagenet 

'  In  addition  to  this  impof ition,  Henry  forced  the  Londoners  to  pay  fourpenea 
t  day  for  the  maintenance  of  a  white  bear  which  he  kept  in  the  Tower  of  Lon- 
don, having  six  years  previously  commanded  the  sheriffii  of  London  to  provide 
a  muzzle,  and  iron  chain,  and  a  cord,  for  the  use  of  the  said  royal  pet,  while 
Ashing  in  the  river  Thames.     Henry  appears  to  have  hod  a  mighty  predilection 
fe  wild  beasts.    Tlie  menagerie  at  the  Tower  was  formed  in  his  reign,  com- 
ItaeDcing  with  three  leopards,  which  his  brother-in-law,  the  emperor,  presented 
Id  bim.     Then  he  had  an  elephant,  which  was  so  highly  prized  by  him,  that  on 
hf  decease  he  issued  a  writ  to  the  constable  of  t)'e  Tower,  '*to  deliver  the  bcnei 
of  the  elephant  lately  buried  in  the  Tower  ditch  to  the  sacristan  oi  Westminster, 
\o  make  thereof  what  he  had  enjoined  him  to  do.'* 


R    OF     P  R  O  V 


a  ring,  whereby  lie  professed  to  invest  him  wiili  ilie  kingdMB  of  8kil)r. 
But  ihe  <le1ight  of  king  Henry  nl  the  imoi^innry  prefemisnt  of  bii  bfowiw 
eon  exceeded  all  bounils.  He  museU  a  seal  lo  be  mule,  wiUi  the  rfSpM 
of  the  young  prince  enihroned,  bearing  the  sceplre  and  ofb  of  •»*• 
reignty,  and  frowned  with  the  royal  diadein  of  Sicily ; '  he  nexi  pqand 
to  rush  madly  into  an  expensive  and  unpopular  war,  fi>f  lb«  porpoM  tt 
eslablishing  the  chimerical  claima  of  the  boy  to  tbis  sbsdowy  <li(iiilf. 
Henry  was  only  deterred  from  parsuiiig  his  design  by  ratnoiili  of  M 
«Unning  nature,  touching  the  king'  and  queen  of  Scots ;  qiwni  riniiw 
having  been  informed  ihal  they  were  deprived  of  royal  pnwer,  and  bfl 
in  close  con6nement  by  the  regents.  Sir  John  Baliol  and  the  ConytH, 
who  were  the  next  heirs  to  the  Scottish  crown.  The  nialemal  anwty 
of  the  queen  being  very  painfully  excited  by  these  report*,  sh;^  pHvudy 
dcspalcbed  ber  physician,  a  person  in  whose  sagacity  she  coaltl  confix 
into  Scotland,  to  ascertain  the  real  situation  of  her  daaghtcr.  Tlut 
trusty  agent  asc«rUtined  that  the  king  and  queen  of  Seoie  wen  Wli 
imprisoned  in  the  castle  of  Edinburgh,  but  in  eeparale  apitrliBegti; 


having  succeeded  in  gaining  a  secret  interview  with  the  younr  ((■■■■ 
she  gave  him  a  lamentable  account  of  her  treatment  ever  eince  mt  Qlf 
fiage ;  '■'  having  been  rudely  torn,"  she  said,  "■  from  her  rontl  I 
and  kept  apart  from  him  in  a  doleful  damp  place,  the  bad  atr  of 
had  seriously  injured  her  heallb ;  and,  so  far  from  having  any  aban  M 
the  govemoient,  ihey  were  treated  with  the  ulinoal  contaiDdy,  aad  wH 
in  daily  peril  of  their  lives.'' 

While  the  falc  of  the  young  king  nnd  queen  of  Scotland  vas  tn  s^ 
pense,  the  maternal  anxiety  of  Rlennor  was  of  the  most  poignant  oalnt 
She  accompanied  her  royal  lord  on  a  northern  campaign,  which  he  W 
dertook  on  this  occasion,  constantly  urging  hiin  lo  exert  hiniselflixlhr 
benefit  of  his  child.  Before  ihe  earl  of  Gloucester,  whnm  he  hwlfMl 
lo  the  ud  of  the  young  queen,  could  forward  newi  of  his  misaiaa  ■!> 
England,  Eleanor's  trouble  of  mind  brought  on  a  violent  iltncas  nJ 
she  was  confined  to  her  bed  at  Wark  Castle,'  with  amall  hope*  of  bi 
life.*  At  last  tidings  came,  thot  Gloucester  and  Mansel  had  gaiaaj  W- 
millaoce  into  the  castle  of  Edinburgh,  by  assmntng  th«  dress  of  lenaM 


L 


■Speed.  'Rymet*!  Vaioa. 

*1'lirte  h  among  Ihc  Tower  records  b  Icuer  fiom  Henrj,  ilaud  Ann  Vut, 
Seplember  13th,  cvidonily  wnllcn  wl>ili>  be  wbj  yel  in  Boipenw  u  w  IhB  w^ 
or  iliifl  sdair,  enfomjug  "  bU  deal  loii  IjUlwaril  or  WeMminstet,  ami  hu  lna«aMt 
Tbilip  Lovcl,  irf  the  love  siul  faiili  thejr  owe  biia,  to  keep  the  £»*«*  irf  tM 
bvouiilD  saint,  EJwud  tbe  ConG-iwl,  with  ail  due  pomp,  the  same  ■*  it  M» 
Rif  were  piewni)  and  to  make  an  olTeiing  in  golil  fbc  faimwll^  ht  tkt  q^H 
and  the  royal  ohildien ;  also  thai  tLey  cause  to  be  touched  the  sU  m  croa  «a  tt 
jpest  altai  at  WeiUiiinaui,  and  otter  a  plate  of  gold  weigliiog  <»•  tPutm,  te 
■ame  aa  wai  ouMomar]'  to  be  done  whcu  the  king  waa  prcvMit  at  Ihe  maa  it% 
EUwant ;  and  ibai  ihcjr  cauie  nj  come  ■olcmnly  to  WetimlniMt.  iw  Sl  btraA 
dar.  the  pnuMsion  of  iha  church  of  Sw  Margivrel,  and  all  iha  pnmeieHBu  (f  ^ 
eit/  of  London,  with  wax-tigh(9,  as  (ha  kltig  haih  commnnd^  Uu  nu^  mi 
the  liouMl  nieu  of  Loiulun."  Benijr  concludes  with  coinimislinf  ir-iU  Wk 
of  tlie  [islaue  at  WeiQuinstei  In  be  Ailed  with  poor  men  and  woini  '     " 


I 


■  LCAMOE    OT    PROVBNCS.  69 

Saliol  ihe  governor,  and,  in  this  disguise,  they  were  enabled  to  give 
«t  access  to  their  ibllowens  by  whom  the  garrison  was  surprised, 
the  rescued  king  and  queen  restored  to  each  other.  Their  cruel 
lers,  Baliol  and  Ross,  were  brought  to  king  Henry  at  Alnwick  to 
irer  for  their  treasons;  on  their  throwing  themselves  at  his  feet  and 
loring  for  mercy,  he  forgave  them  ;  but  as  Baliol  was  his  own  sub- 
he  mulcted  him  in  a  heavy  fine,  which  he  reserved  for  his  own  pri- 
!  use.  He  then  sent  for  the  young  king  and  queen  of  Scotland,  to 
I  him  at  Alnwick,  where  the  king  of  Scotland  solemnly  chose  him 
c  his  guardian  during  the  rest  of  his  minority. 
Ipwen  Eleanor's  illness  continued  to  detain  her  at  Wark  Castle,  even 
r  her  mind  was  relieved  of  the  anxiety  which  had  caused  her  sick- 
L  Her  indisposition,  and  extreme  desire  of  her  daughter's  company, 
certified  in  a  letter  of  king  Henry  to  his  son-in-law,  the  king  of 
tJand,  dated  the  20th  of  September,  1255,*  in  which  he  species. 
at  the  queen  of  Scotland  is  to  remain  with  the  sick  queen,  her  mo- 
r,  his  beloved  consort,  at  Wark  Castle,  till  the  said  queen  is  suffi- 
itly  recovered  to  be  capable  of  travelling  southward.'' 
hi  Eleanor's  convalescence,  the  king  and  queen  of  Scotland  accom- 
ied  her  and  king  Henry  to  Woodstock,  where  she  kept  her  court 
h  more  than  ordinary  splendour,  to  celebrate  their  deliverance  from 
ir  late  adversity.  There  were  then  three  kings  and  three  queens  at 
todstock,  with  their  retinues.'  Richard,  earl  of  Cornwall,  having 
lined  his  election  as  successor  to  the  emperor  of  Germany,  had 
imed  the  title  of  king  of  the  Romans,  while  his  consort,  queen  Elea- 
h  sister,  took  also  royal  state  and  title. 

ifler  exhausting  all  the  pleasures  that  the  sylvan  palace  of  Woodstock, 
extensive  chase  and  pleasance,  could  afford,  they  proceeded  to  Lon- 
ly  where,  in  the  month  of  February,  the  three  kings  and  queens  made 
ir  public  entry,  wearing  their  crowns  and  royal  robes.* 
kU  this  pomp  and  festivity  was  succeeded  by  a  season  of  gloom  and 
e.  The  departure  of  the  king  and  queen  of  Scotland  was  followed 
that  of  the  new  king  and  queen  of  the  Romans,  who  went  to  be 
wned  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  carrying  with  them  seven  hundred  thousand 
uds  in  sterling  money.  A  dreadful  famine  was  added  to  the  public 
barmssment,  occasioned  by  the  drain  on  the  specie. 
I  was  at  this  season  of  public  misery  that  Eleanor,  blinded  by  the 
ish  spirit  of  covetousness  to  the  impolicy  of  her  conduct,  chose  to 
iw  her  demands  of  queen-gold  on  the  city  of  London.  These  the 
I  enforced  by  writs  of  exchequer,  himself  sitting  there  in  person,* 
compelling  the  reluctant  sheriff  to  distrain  the  citizens  for  the  same, 
liis  year  the  queen  lost  her  little  daughter,  the  princess  Katharine, 
3m  she  had  borne  to  king  Henry  duriug  his  absence  in  the  Gascon 
.  The  king  caused  a  most  sumptuous  monument  to  be  erected  for 
in  Westminster  Abbey.  There  is  among  the  Tower  records  an 
sr  to  his  treasurer  and  chamberlains  of  the  treasury,  to  deliver  to 

lymer't  FcKlera.  '  Matthew  Paris.    M.  Westmiaattr. 

latthew  Paria.  *  Stow't  London. 

E 


BLEAXO 


OP    PROVE!«rB. 


Miister  Simon  de  Wills  fire  marks  mil  a  half  for  his 
from 'Lon lion  a  ccrtsin  brass  image  tu  be  set  on  the  rayal 
anil  fur  paying  to  Sirann  de  Gtoucesier,  the  king's  go] 
image  for  ihe  like  purpose,  ihe  sum  of  eevenly  tuariis. 

The  ardent  desire  of  ihe  king  ard  queen  foi  ifae  mtin 
second  son's  title  as  king  of  Sicily  meeting  with  no  enca 
litile  piece  of  stage  cfleci  was  deviled  by  the  sorereipi,  1 
foolishly  imagined  he  should  move  his  obdnrale  bsrona  to  gM 
niary  supplies  for  his  ilarling  project.  Having  caused  the  j 
to  be  aliired  in  the  graceful  costume  of  a  Sicilian  hii^,h«i  r^ 
of  tho  parliament,  presenied  him  lo  the  assembly  vith  I 
speech  : — "  Behold  here,  good  people,  my  son  Edmitnd,  w 
his  gracious  goodness  haih  called  lo  ihe  excellency  of  kie 
how  comely  and  well  worthy  he  is  of  all  your  favour,  am 
and  lynnnical  must  they  be,  who,  at  this  pinch,  would  doxy 
and  seasonahle  help,  boih  with  money  and  adricer" 

Of  the  latter,  truth  lo  tell,  the  barons  were  in  no  wise  I 
they  urged  the  king  not  to  waste  the  blood  and  treasure  of' 
people  on  such  a  hopeless  chimera ;  but  Henry,  who  waa  ai 
as  he  WHS  unstable  in  well-doing,  periinacimisly  relmned  1 
notwithstanding  the  strange  insensibUity  manifested  by  llM 
comeliness  of  the  young  prince,  and  the  picturesque  bemH 
I  dress,  for  which  the  royal  sire,  in  the  fond  weakneai 
lity,  had  condescended  to  bespeak  the  admiration  of  tha 
The  aid  was  finally  obtained  through  the  interference  t 
_  ite,  but  on  condition  that  the  sovereign  should  consider  ta 
ly  the  Oxford  statutes.  The  object  of  those  stalutea  wu  I 
power  of  the  crown  to  a  mere  nominal  authority.  ' 

One  day,  as  the  sovereign  was  proceeding  by  water  lo  d 
as  overtaken  by  a  tremendous  thunder-slonn,  ami  in  gra 
le  boatman  push  for  the  first  stairs,  forgetting,  in  bis  U 
ilonged  to  Durham-house,  where  Leicester  then  dwdt     T 
iwelcome  courtesy,  came  In  receive  his  royal  brother^! 
landed  from  the  boat,  telling  him,  at  the  same  time,  "  not  ' ' 
aa  the  storm  was  spent."    "  I  am  beyond  measure  afraid  c 
lightning,  but  by  the  head  of  God  I  fmr  thee  more  than  id 
in  the  world,"  replied  Henry,  wiih  as  fierce  a  lorft  as  be 
To  which  Leicester  mildly  rejoineil.  "  My  lord,  you  are  t 
your  only  true  and  firm  friend,  whose  «ole  desire  it  is  to  J 
land  from  ruin,  and  yourself  from  the  destruction  which  yr 
sellora  are  preparing  for  you." 

Henry,  for  from  confiding  in  these  professions,  took  tbe 
lunity  of  leaving  the  kingdom,  to  fceW  assistance  from  th 
iiexions  of  his  queen.  In  his  absence,  die  king  ami  qtt 
arrived  at  Windsor  Cascle.  on  a  visit  lo  queen  Cleanor. 
after  Henry's  return,  John,  duke  of  Rreiagne,  came  o*i 
princess  Bcairice.  The  earl  of  Leicester  allawed  the  kj 
tmple  supplies  for  the  entertainment  of  these  illustrioiis  pi 


w*M.PiU. 


•Und. 


ELEA^OR    OF    PK0\E<1CE.  71 

•  ctniTi  U  Windsor  had  never  been  more  numerously  alli'niled,  or 
I  magnificenily  appointed,  than  on  this  orcasion ;  but  there  wai-  a 
iding  elooni  on  the  mind  of  the  royal  parenta,  which  the  pr^enee 
lir  difesi  daughter,  and  the  marriage  of  iheir  second,  fniled  to  di«si- 
The  young  (jueen  of  Scotland  passed  the  whole  winter  with  her 

1  Windsor  Castle,  where  she  lay  in  of  n  daughter, 

state  of  Henrj-'s  mind  at  the  period  preceding  the  baron*'  war 

e  gatherMl  Irom  his  issuing  directions  to  his  painter,  Master  Wd- 

a  monk  of  Westminster,  to  paint  a  picture  for  hini,  of  a  king 

1  by  his  dogs,  from  an  attack  made  upon  him  by  his  subjecia, 

p  LoTel,  the  king's  treasurer,  is  ordered  by  this  precept,  which  was 

I  in  the  fortieth  year  of  Henry's  reign,  to  diaburse,  m  the  said 

ir  Williams,  the  full  charges  and  cspeiises  of  executing  this  picture ; 

b  is  ordered  to  be  placed  in  tlic  wardrobe  of  Westminster,  where 

was  accustomed  lo  wash  his  head, 

a  period,  the  king  and  queen  chiefly  confined  themselves  within 

W  other  of  the  royal  fortresses  of  Windsor,  or  the  Tower,  both  of 

rere  nrengthened,  and  prepared  with  additional  defences,  to  stand 

After  Henrj-  had  violated  llie  provisions  of  Oxford,  he  took  up 

dence  in  the  Tower  of  London,  while  Eleanor  remained  wilh  r 

J  gwrison  to  keep  Windsor.     The  principal  communication  be- 

■  these  forliJied  palaces  was  by  water. 

I^ISfll  died  the  queen's  sister,  San cha  countess  of  Cornwall  and 

■  of  the  Romans,  for  whom  the  king  and  queen  made  greet  lamenia- 
h  and  gave  her  a  mttgniltcenl  funeral. 

B^at  year  the  royal  party  gained  such  strength,  that  the  earl  of 

r  fband  it  m<ist  prudent  to  withdraw  to  the  continent.     Prince 

I  lo  England,  to  guard  the  realm  while  king  Ilcnry  went 

tay,  where  his  presence  was  required,  and  where  he  fell  sick  of 

n  agne,  which  deiained  him  there  during  the  autumn. 

>  prince  Edward  was  carrying  on  the  war  against  the  Welch, 

T^i  cause  became  more  formidable,  and  in  1*203  that  might) 

r  relumed  almost  at  the  same  lime  with  t)ie  king,  lo  whom  he 

e  barons  to  present  an  address,  requiring  him  to  confirm  the 

I,  adding  a  defiance  lo  all  who  opposed  them,  the  king, 

L,  and  the  royal  children  excepted.     This  exception  may  he 

It  things  considered,  as  a  very  remarkable  piece  of  civility  on 

f  die  reforming  barons  of  the  13th  century-    One  of  ihe  moat 

■1  of  these  was  Roger  Bigod,  earl  of  Norfolk  and  Sutlblk,  lo 

1  angiy  parlance  king  Henry  said,  "What,  sir  earl,  are  you  so 

Ji  me,  whose  vassal  peer  you  are  ?     Could  I  not  issue  my  royal 

HI  fat  threshing  out  all  your  corn  ?"    "  Ay,"  retorted  Ihe  earl,  *'and 

in  return  send  you  the  heads  of  the  threshers."" 

n  would  ihey  have  been  who  had  ventured  to  undertake  thai 

A  striking  instance  of  the  disregard  of  all  moral  restraints, 

I  die  high  and  mighty,  in  that  reign  of  misery,  may  be  seen  ' 

■  robbery,  committed  by  the  heir  apparent  of  the  realm,  on  the 


1 

I 


I 


fl9  BL*A!in«  nr  TRovmncm. 

tiTtaory  of  the  Knts;)iUi  Trinpluv.  in  tiir  year  13d3.  "nioM  mSiarr 
fuonki  wei*  Dot  only  tl)e  iiHUtera  of  gmiL  wealih,  bul  aewil  u  bonkm 
uhI  money-broken  lo  all  Europe,  lending  suma  on  rich  ptedgw  S 
luuiioii)  inicrcM.  (^eni  Elrooor,  U  tlto  ciRUDCTorni«)t  of  thi  OvMm 
m  which  l)»  rorktrse  canoeRls had  inrolrcd  ihc  kin^,  had  drwxMihm 
jewrlt,  for  mtextnty,  with  tliia  fnilcniity,  \iho  hai.]  advancoa  a  nn  uf 
money  ufiun  ihein.  On  die  retitni  at'  pnnce  Uward  front  In*  ncUcwa 
coinfwiifn  in  U'lklea.  Huiliiig  hiniaelf  without  the  menu  of  dkAoniag  llR 
anf urs  of  puy  which  he  owed  hu  iruupa,  and  anwfllbig  to  dmimai  nM 
whom  ha  forrtaw  hia  Taihpr's  c«uk  wouM  raqaire,  naH;hc4  Mniglkmy 
to  ihe  Tempb,  onil  told  the  master  thai  it  was  tut  fiwman  lo  Me  ihf  ^ 
irweU  of  the  queen  his  motticc,  na  he  undcntood  lh«y  wore  aot  mUl 
kept.  On  thi*  cxctiee  he  eniBnid  llie  treasury,  and  broke  open  the  coF- 
Sat*  of  many  person*  who  liad  lodged  their  money,  and  pledga  tot 
Mfcurity,  in  ilie  IibiuIh  of  (he  Teniplsm,  and  Mised  ten  ihountid  pouoAi 
aterliii^,  pttBcipally  belonging  to  the  cituieus  of  Londoti,  which,  together 
with  the  tfuecn'B  Jewels,  he  carried  olT  to  the  royal  rortreas  of  WmiltorJ 

A  few  monUiB  alWrwarda  ilie  queen  pawned  these  jewels  a  kcmkI 
time  to  her  st«i«r'«  bushnnd,  llio  king  uf  Kranoe ;  that  monareti  [irat«blf 
rivinliii^  the  ruhbery  ol'  the  Template  as  a  very  emaU  ain.* 

The  active  ptui  taken  by  queen  Eleotior  aiid  faer  eldatt  Km,  m  lilt 
iiiisiiiaiiagcineiii  of  the  king's  allairs,  at  this  critical  pariod,  is  mwJwl 

iby  mUtihew  Farts,  who  is  certainly  a  credible  witne«a,tBd  one  wbohid 
ever)-  means  of  information  on  the  aubject,  sine*,  (mm  the  great  ntftft 
in  which  bis  tnleiits  were  held  by  king  Henry,  b«  was  ianisd  to  <iiiieal 
the  royal  table  every  (lay,  niiil.  as  he  bimaelf  sialea,  (ntpusntlj  wrote  m 
tlie  prcsemw,  and  from  tlie  dictation,  of  the  king.     Neither  Hemy  aei    i 
Eleanor  wer«  probably  aware  how  ofi  ilutt  sly  monk  took  avtn  of  iM    i 
roulisb  Mying*  and  evil  doings,  for  the  example  of  diutaiu  geoeauewj    £, 
enriching  his  chronicle,  moreover,  with  many  a  choice  aaecdoie,  iUi»    „ 
Intive  of  the  persunal  history  of  royalty,  in  the  thirteenth  centor}'.         ,j 
Koberl  of  tiluncester,  s  cimicrapiirBry,  thus  notice*  the  procacdii^  ', 
of  the  queen,  and  prince  Edward's  puliucol  opiniutis.  1^ 

I                         "The  qunn  went  br^nnd  ttie  eee,  Ibe  king;'!  bmtliiea  Din;  '^^^H 

Am)  Bvpr  lli»r  sinXB  tbe  obnrict  tu  uiirlo;  ^^^^| 

Titer  iniraUKMHl  liinl  tite  pops  sbould  kwdI,  t  Wi*.  ^^^H 

Of  tlie  oaili,  siul  the  ctuuler,  aiul  Uia  Iubc  iuuI  oil  his.  ^^^H 
It  wai  ever  the  qaeoa't  ihooehl  (as  nuelt  *■  tAi  oould  lliuik)       ^^^| 

To  luBak  the  ehattet  bjr  luam  wmuBB's  wranclus  |'  ^^^| 

And  ihoogti  lii  Edward  ptuved  a  haidr  knisUi  and  Bood,  ^^^| 

Yet  Ihia  same  obancr  wat  lilllo  to  liU  mood."  ^^^H 

'Chrmlols  or  Diinmow,    Annali  of  St  Aii^uitine.    R»i>in.    Harrinm')  Satrt^  t> 

of  Lunaon,  ic.  441  )t 

'Far  LoDis  hod  pennitiod  his  Bnaclicd  tiicnd  and  foilnwer,  Ae  loiO  ds  Ja<>-  ^ 

Ivilln,  who  iriuioiiIiBBlJy  leueiU*  Uia  Ihcl  in  tug  otiioBk'Iool'thu  onsBtde. to M>>  ^ 
open  Ujs  tmauip-cheaii  of  ibii  wcslthy  fyatcnuty  of  ibe  oliureh  militant  at  Di- 

miens,  will)  a  iJsdjie-liijnnier.  and  take  from  (Lance  tlio  lum  requitoJ  to  wsta  I 

■p  bis  taocom.    Joinville't  Clinraiele,  ytt  lU  Si,  I/m,a.  '  * 
*  Pionouticeil  wmk,  meaning  twining  or  n-roDcbing  (he  words   of  I 
CSarla  fhxn  llirir  clear  uid  simple  rigBidealioa. 


KLEANOR    OF    PROVBHCE. 


7» 

f  indeed  were  the  wiles  and  e\-atiion«.  very  inFonstsienl  with  the 

d  MiUier-like  pltiiineBs  o(  his  characler  in  after  lire,  which  were 

d  by  ihe  valiauL  heir  of  England,  while  acting  under  the  influ- 

iSiDcere  mother,  in  the  hope  of  circumventing  the  barons 

M  by  force. 

,  notwithstHDilin^  the  relucinncc  of  the  qiteen,'  king  Henry 
o  sign  an  amicable  amng«ment  with  the  barons,  by  which 
d  bmiself  to  confirm  the  provJHions  of  Oxford.  This  agreement, 
_l  might  hA*a  averted  llie  storm  of  civil  strife,  was  regarded  with 
to  impatience,  by  some  of  the  destnictives  of  the  thirteenth  century, 
L«ager  for  phmder  and  athint  for  blood,  linding  they  were  likely 
■diaappoinled  in  the  object  which  had  led  them  to  rank  themselves 
%•  tide  of  the  reformbg  barons  and  their  great  dictator,  Moniforl, 
IS  •  dreadful  tiproar  in  London  against  the  unhappy  Jews,  whose 
.h  excited  their  envy  and  cupidity. 

I^Wikes,  a  contemporary  chronicler,  thus  details  the  particulars  of 
ult,  which  was  the  prelude  to  a  personal  attack  upon  the  queen, 
d  of  SL  Faults  gf^'  bell,  a  numerous  mob  sallied  forth,  led 
phen  Buckrell,  the  marshal  of  London,  and  John  Fitx-John,  & 
I  baron.  They  killed  and  plundered  many  of  these  wretched 
I  wilhont  mercy.  The  ferocious  leader,  John  Filz-John,  nn 
li  with  his  awortl,  in  cold  blood,  Kokben  Abraham,  tlie  wealthiest 
w  resident  in  London.  Bexides  plimdering  and  killing  fire  hundred 
led  race,  the  mob  turned  the  rest  out  of  tlieir  beds,  undressed 
i,  keeping  them  so  the  whole  night.  The  next  morning  they 
iced  the  work  of  plunder  with  such  outrageous  yells,  that  the 
s  then  at  the  Tower,  seized  with  morlnl  terror,  got  into 
B  with  many  of  her  great  ladies,  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the 
iding  to  escape  by  water  lo  Windsor  Castle.  But  the  raging 
whom  she  had  rendered  herself  most  obnoxious,  aa  soon  as 
—Y  obaerved  the  royal  barge  on  the  river,  made  a  general  rush  lo  the 
bridge,  crying — "  Drown  the  wiich '. — drown  the  witch  !"'  at  the  same 
■idM!  polling  tl)e  queen  with  mud,  addressing  the  most  abusive  language 
k)  her,  and  endeavouring  to  sink  the  vessel  by  huriing  down  blocks  of 
kood  tnd  stone  of  an  enormous  weight,  which  they  tore  from  the 
MoCniahed  buildings  of  the  bridge.  The  poor  ladies  were  pelted  with 
roam  eKK*!  and  ■heep^s  bones,  and  everylliing  vile.'  If  the  queen  had 
t^misieirin  shooting  the  arch,  the  boat  must  have  been  swamped,  or  her 
•e«»el  dsslied  to  pieces,  by  the  formiilable  missiles  that  were  aimed  at 
tk«r  pcDon.  As  it  was,  she  with  dilhculty  escaped  the  fury  of  the  assail- 
•au  by  returning  lo  the  Tower.  Not  considering  herself  safe  there,  she 
>«nk  skDctuikry  at  night  in  the  bifiliop  of  l,ondoii's  palace  at  Sl  Paul's, 
Mwsc*  she  wna  privately  reraoTcd  to  Windsor  Castle,  where  prince 
bdword  kept  garrison  willi  his  Uoops.  This  high-spiriied  prince  never 
^  k*e  iIm  Londoners  for  the  insult  ihey  hud  o%red  to  his  mother.* 


« 


I 


hj^*e  lite  Lout 
^■ilpilrit.  Id  llie 


MuiboworWetUnmsinr.  Wiltra.  Speed.  Rapia.      'Ibid. 
0(  Wotininitri,  i  n  Ilia  FJuwets  of  Uiilory,  delaili  tbis  oatrafis  wfth 
int.  Id  llie  Latin  of  tlia  oluiitei. 


^1 


BLBA 


iOR    I 


Tliough  Eleenor  had  been  o  modi  unpriucipled  plunderer  o(  the  J 
wkenevbr  opportunity  served,  stie  was  accused  of  patranbtn^  t' 
because  great  numbers  of  ihein  liud  llotrkcd  into  Engtand  a 
her  marriage  with  king  Henr)'.  t^e  Proveogal  princM  hiring  i 
granted  toleration  to  litis  people.  Eleanor  never  foigol  hor  Icmv  K 
London  bridge,  which  had  the  etiect  of  hurrying  forward  tha  cini  war. 
Al  the  lime  when  the  harons  had  agreed  to  reler  their  gricmoen  Ut  llit 
drbitrstion  of  Sl  Louia,  the  brotlier-in-law  uf  tlie  uucen,  king  Henry  lonll 
Eleanor  with  him  to  France,  and  led  her  lliere  in  October,  1!C6I,  milt 
her  children,  at  the  court  of  her  «isler  Marj^erile. 

The  decision  of  St.  Louis,  though  really  a  rational  om,  did  not  MWfr 
tlie  barous,  who  protested  against  it  on  iho  gmutids  of  fiiniily  pwubiy, 
and  Eugland  was  forthwith  involved  in  the  tlomes  -of  ciril  war.  Amt 
Henry  had  placed  his  adored  queen  in  security,  and  taken  •  letKlnr  iatn 
of  her  and  her  young  children,  he  returned  to  Engkud  to  encmoier  it» 
■lorm,  with  more  spirit  and  manliness  than  whs  usual  to  hta  charMirr. 
On  Passion  Sunday,  Henr}'  gained  a  great  victory  at  Nonhamptoa  urw 
the  barons ;  be  took  hi^  rebellious  nephew,  the  earl  of  LvictMtar'a  ddtM 
son,  prisoner,  together  widi  fourteen  of  ilie  leading  barona.*  Ilnry  %u»i 
his  victory  with  great  moderation.'  At  the  oas^e  of  Tunliridge.  Inrfcit 
countess  of  Gloucester,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  most  invelemleof  bit  (dm, 
fell  into  hia  hands,  but  he  geueroualy  act  her. at  liberljri  witL  the  BBll^ 


BliBANOR    OF    PROVBlfCB.  75 

Croydon,  where  he  made  a  merciless  slaughter  of  the  hapless  citizens. 
When  he  returned  to  the  field  of  battle  with  his  jaded  cavalry,  he  found 
his  &ther,  who  had  lost  the  support  of  all  the  horse,  taken  prisoner  with 
his  uncle  the  king  of  the  Romans,  and  Edward  had  no  other  resource 
than  surrendering  himself  to  Leicester,  who  conveyed  him,  with  king 
Henry,  as  captive  to  the  castle  of  Wallingford. 

The  remnant  of  the  rojral  army  retreated  to  Bristol  Castle,  under  the 
command  of  seven  knights,  who  reared  seven  banners  on  the  walls.  The 
queen  was  said  by  some  to  be  safe  in  France,  but  old  Robert  of  Glouces- 
ter asserts  that  she  was  etpy  ^  in  the  land  for  the  purpose  of  liberating 
her  brave  son.    Let  this  be  as  it  may,  she  sent  word  to  Sir  Warren  de 
Basingboume,  her  son's  favourite  knight,  one  of  the  gallant  defenders  of 
Bnstol,  that  Wallingford  was  but  feebly  guarded,  and   that  her  son 
might  be  released,  if  he  and  the  rest  of  the  Bristol  garrison  would  attack 
ii  by  surprise.    Directly  Sir  Warren  received  the  queen's  message,  he, 
with  three  hundred  horse,  crossed  the  country,  and  arrived  at  Walling- 
ford on  a  Friday,  just  as  the  sun  rose,  and,  right  against  All  Hallows 
church,  made  the  first  fierce  attack  on  the  castle,  and  won  the  outermost 
wall.    The  besieged  defended  themselves  furiously,  with  cross-bows 
and  battle  engines :  at  last  they  called  out  to  sir  Warren,  that  ^  if  they 
wanted  sire  Edward,  the  prince,  they  should  have  him,  but  bound  hand 
tod  foot,  and  shot  from  the  mangonel" — a  terrific  war  engine  used  foi 
casting  stones.  As  soon  as  the  prince  heard  of  this  murderous  intention, 
he  demanded  leave  to  speak  with  his  friends,  and  coming  on  the  wall, 
assured  them,  ^  that  if  they  persevered  in  his  mother's  intentions  he 
vhould  be  destroyed."  Whereupon  sir  Warren  and  his  chevaliers  retired 
in  great  dejection.    Simon  de  Montfort,  pretending  to  be  angry  for  the 
violence  oflered  to  the  prince  his  nephew,  carried  off  all  his  royal  pri- 
soners for  safe  keeping  to  Kenilworth  Castle,  where  Edward's  aunt,  his 
countees,  was  abiding,  and  who  ofiered  her  royal  brothers  and  their  sons 
'*  all  the  solace  she  could." 

The  queen,  thus  disappointed  in  the  liberation  of  her  gallant  heir, 
soon  after  found  a  partisan,  in  a  lady  strongly  attached  to  her.  This 
was  lady  Maud  Mortimer.  Lord  Roger  Mortimer  had,  much  against 
the  wishes  of  his  lady,  given  his  powerful  aid  to  Leicester ;  but  having 
received  some  affront  since  the  victoiy  of  Lewes,  he  now  turned  a  com- 
placent ear  to  the  loyal  pleadings  of  Lady  Maud,  in  behalf  of  the  queen 
and  her  son.  What  all  the  valour  of  sir  Warren  failed  to  accomplish, 
the  wit  of  woman  efl^cted.  Lady  Maud  Mortimer  having  sent  her  in- 
structions to  prince  Edward,  he  made  his  escape  by  riding  races  with  his 
atttendants  till  he  had  tired  their  horses,  when  he  rode  up  to  a  thicket, 
where  dame  Maud  had  ambushed  a  swift  steed.  Mounting  his  gallant 
courser,  Edward  turned  to  his  guard,  and  bade  them  ^  commend  him  to 
hia  tire  the  king,  and  tell  him  he  would  soon  be  at  liberty,"  and  then 
galloped  off;  while  an  armed  party  appeared  on  the  opposite  hill,  a  mile 
distant,  and  displayed  the  banner  of  Mortimer. 

'Concealed. 


r 

I 

I 


To  BLEA:tOR    OP    PROTENC8. 

■Wbr  (houli!  hall  a  kmg  lalf  t    Ha  off  n»p>^  h>, 
To  ■!)«  oULle  of  Wigmore  ihs  injt  »ocin  hs  toolt, 
TbuRi  was  jay  srul  blisi  emw  wlirii  lin  eamn  thiUmc, 
To  ihe  loiIy  of  that  ensile,  clauio  MbuJ  de  MortiniBr," 

Damg  ibe  captiTUr  of  her  huBbanil  btkI  eon.  it  is  aaserlMl  that  D» 
nor  pr  Ptovence  made  more  than  one  privalo  visit  to  England.  Oaim- 
tibly,  ihe  reaiiled  in  France,  with  her  younger  children,  amler  ih«  kiiul 
protection  of  her  siaier,  queen  Marguerite.  Meantime,  she  had,  liireetlf 
itfler  the  disastrous  ticld  of  Lewes,  borrowed  all  the  moaey  alie  eonld 
raise  on  her  Jewde  and  credit,  and  proceeded  lo  muaier  forces,  and  nnip 
a  fleet,  Matthew  of  Wealminster  does  full  justice  lo  the  euer^ik  efiun 
of  "'  this  uoble  virago,*'  as  he  styles  qtieen  Eleanor,  for  the  lib«r>i>ad  nf 
her  husband.  ''She  sacceeded,"  be  mys,  "in  getiinfi;  to^etlier  a  pM 
nrmy,  conimaQJed  by  so  many  dukes  and  carls  as  aeomeii  incredible;'' 
aiid  those  who  knew  the  strengllt  and  power  of  that  army  affinattL 
"  lluit  if  they  had  once  landed  in  England,  they  would  prreseatly  hm 
subtlued  the  whole  population  of  the  country  ;  but  God  in  his  ineret," 
continues  tlie  chronicler, '^  ordered  it  otherwise  ;^*  for  while  il>e  qoMa 
and  her  foreign  troops  remained  wind-bound  on  the  other  side  olf  tin 
water,  the  battle  of  Evesham  was  fought  and  won,  by  her  vnlianl  ««■ 
prince  Edward.  Leicester  had  the  audacity  to  proclaim  that  pcinmod 
all  his  loyal  chivalry  traitors  to  the  captive  sovereign,  for  whoee  delim- 
anre  iliey  had  displayed  their  banners. 

There  are  letters  in  the  Fusdero,  written  during  Hemy's  eaptiTi^,  att- 
dressed  by  him  "  to  queen  Eleanor  abiding  iu  foreign  parts,"  in  whsi 
he  assures  her  of  his  health  and  comfort,  and  continued  afleclion  (or  ba 
and  their  children,  and  of  his  good  hopes  of  a  liappy  peace  being  tottt 
established  (through  the  blessing  of  God)  in  his  dominiune.  Thne 
letters  are,  however,  evidently  written  under  the  resLraiui  and  diciatioii 
of  the  carl  of  Leiceaier,  since  the  captive  monarch  desires,  ziay,  «a^ 
mands,  the  queen  to  >■  abstain  from  any  attempts  to  alter  the  state  sf 
things,  and  charges  her  to  exhort  his  heir  not  to  interfere  in  bny  war 
against  his  will,  which  will  be  further  explained  by  master  Edttarddii 
C^rol,  the  deacon  of  Wells,  who  is  the  bearer  of  tbeae  ■uissmii.'' 
Thev  are  dated  Windsor,  IStli  of  November,  1264.' 

Eleanor,  of  coarse,  paid  no  regard  to  the  forced  nutodales  of  bet  m^ 
forttinale  consort,  but,  like  a  faithful  helpmate  in  tlie  lime  of  itoabi*, 
exerted  all  the  energies  of  her  nature  for  hia  delivecanoe.  Possnsoig 
the  pen  of  a  ready  writer,  she  addressed  llie  most  persuasive  leiicn  U> 
Urban  IV.  and  his  legates,  setting  forth  the  zeal  and  ubvUience  her  lu» 
band  had  ever  shown  to  the  church  /  she  obtained  bulls  in  favour  al^ 
party,  which  were  of  great  service  to  the  royal  cause. 

The  batde  of  Evesham  was  won  by  a  eoap  de  mai 
took  prince  Edward's  army  for  that  of  his  own  son,  Simoo  de  Sit 
which  the  prince  had  intercepted  and  dispersed.     Wlien 
covered  his  error,  he  was  struck  with  consternation,  and 
aloud,  '^  May  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  our  souls,  for  our  bodies 


•Rfm»T't  Fcedera,  vol.  1. 


•Matlhew  of  W. 


SLSAHOR    OF    FROYSirGS.  77 

6^8  P  Leicester  exposed  his  royvl  prisoner,  and  former  benefactor, 
Henry,  to  the  shaf^  of  his  own  friends,  by  placmg  him  in  the  front 
e  battle.  Poor  Henry  was  wounded  with  a  jarelin,  in  the  shoulder, 
ras  in  imminent  danger  of  being  slain  by  one  of  the  royalist  sol- 
,  who,  mistaking  him  for  one  of  Leicester's  party,  would  hare  cut 
lown,  had  he  not  cried  out,  in  a  lamentable  voice,  ^  Slay  me  not,  I 
[enry  of  Winchester,  your  king.''  An  officer,  hiring  this,  ran  to 
isistance,  rescued  him  from  his  perilous  situation,  and  brought  him 
Ince  Edward,  who,  greeting  him  with  the  tenderest  affection,  knelt 
mplored  his  blessing ;  and  then,  leaving  a  strong  guard  for  his  pro- 
«i,  pursued  his  victorious  career.' 

lis  liattle  was  fought  on  the  4th  of  August,  1265,  fourteen  months 
the  defeat  and  capture  of  the  king  at  Lewes.  Though  great  pro- 
ion  had  been  given  to  the  king,  and  every  member  of  the  royal 
V,  there  was  not  a  single  drop  of  blood  shed  on  the  scaffold  after 
fecisive  triumph.  Henry,  with  all  his  fiiults  and  follies,  was  tender 
uuui  life,  and  mindful  that  the  noblest  prerogative  of  the  crown  is 
jr.  Neither  is  it  recorded  of  queen  Eleanor,  that  she  ever  caused  a 
linary  vengeance  to  be  inflicted  on  any  of  her  foes.  King  Henry, 
!ver,  made  the  Londoners  pay  pretty  dearly  for  the  pelting  they  had 
wed  on  the  high  and  mighty  lady,  his  companion.'  At  length  he 
ed  a  charter  of  remission  for  their  sins  to  his  consort,  in  these 
s: — 

bart  of  Okmcester,  in  strains  of  rugged  strength,  bewails  the  death  of  Leices- 
id  describes  the  singular  darkness  which  overshadowed  the  fhtal  plain 
esham,  **  while  England's  barons  fought  a  field." 

**  Such  vras  the  murther  of  Evesham,  for  battle  none  it  was.** 

proceeds  to  sa]r,  that  the  victory  was  much  displeasing  to  the  Saviour,  who 
token  of  his  anger  by  a  darkness  over  the  middle  earth,  such  as  befel 
1m  died  oa  the  rood.    For, 

**  The  while  the  good  men  at  Evesham  were  slew, 
In  the  north-west  a  dark  weather  arose, 
Suddenly  swart  enow  that  many  men  rgros,  (terrified) 
And  overcast  all  through  the  land,  that  me  might  scarcely  seoi 
Grislier  weather  than  it  was  might  not  on  earth  be ; 
Few  drops  of  rain  fell,  but  they  were  large  enow, 
Tokening  well  through  the  land  when  these  men  were  slew, 
For  thirty  mile  then.     This  I  say,  (Roberd 
That  first  this  book  made,)  and  I  was  sore  aiVaid." 

divested  the  city  of  its  ancient  charters,  caused  its  posts  and  chains  to  be 

away,  and  ordered  the  mayor,  with  a  party  of  the  principal  citizens,  to 
t  him  at  Windsor,  to  confirm  the  instrument  of  their  own  degradation,  by 
if  die  seal  of  the  city  to  a  written  form  of  their  submission  to  tlie  royal 
%  Wh(*n  they  arrived  at  Wimltor,  tlicy  were  treated  with  the  utmost  con- 
y  by  the  oflcert  of  the  royal  hoitseliold,  and  committed  to  the  custody  of 
msfable  of  the  castle,  who  shut  them  up  in  the  keep  till  the  following  day, 
,  as  a  great  Ikvonr,  they  were  bestowed  in  less  alarming  lodgings,  except 
ftyor,  and  four  of  the  most  obnoxious  to  tlie  ro3ral  cause,  who  were  deli- 

to  prinee  Edward,  and  by  him  subjected  to  a  rigorous  confinement  till  thej 
«id  ransom  for  their  own  persons,  and  consented  to  petition  the  king  to 

a  sum  as  the  price  of  reconciliation  with  the  city  of  Lcmdon.    Hftixn^i^n\ 


I 

I 


78*  ELBAHaR    OF    PBOVENCE.  ^^| 

"  Know  ye>  itial  in  conBidentlion  of  twenty  tiiousuul  marki,  paij  lo 
IM  by  our  citizens  of  London,  as  ui  nioiicaieni  fur  their  great  crium  ■tkl 
tnisdcnieanoura  ogaiast  us,  our  royal  consort,  our  royal  brother,  fUchanl 
king  of  ilie  RonuLua,  and  our  dear  sod  E<1  ward,  iliai  we  have,  and  do.  by 
these  our  presents,  remit,  forgive,  acqnit,"  &c.  tec.  &c. 

TKis  enormous  fine  was  not  paid  into  the  king's  exchequer,  ererf 
fiinliing  of  it  being  devoted  lo  queen  Eleanor's  use,  and,  by  hrr  daairt, 
it  wa«  iransmilicd  to  certain  persona  in  France,  who  had  supplied  her 
with  money  at  her  need,  during  her  exile  from  England.' 

As  for  Henry,  he  had  a  rich  harvest  of  fines  and  confiscations,  grauiMl 
by  his  obliging  parliament,  from  the  lands  of  the  rebel  barons.  The 
"disinherited,"  as  they  were  called,  who  were  thus  stripped  of  lh«r 
patrimony,  liaving  nothing  more  to  lose  than  their  lives,  raised  a  &Wi 
revolt,  under  the  banner  of  Simon  de  Montforl,  Leicester's  ruined  heir, 
who  was  also  king  Henry's  nephew. 

The  consequences  of  this  rebellion  were  happily  averted  by  the  atrinl 
of  the  queen,  who  landed  at  Dover,  October  29ih,  1266,  bringing  wiA 
her  tlie  pope's  legale,  cardinal  Ottobone,  whom  she  had  iiidueed  lu  vmi 
England,  for  the  purpose  of  hurling  the  anathema  of  the  church  agiinsl 
the  rebel  barons.  Ollobone  accordingly  convened  a  ^ynod,  and  solemnlv 
exeommunicaled  all  the  adherents  of  the  late  earl  of  Leicester,  wheiMr 
living  or  dead,  which  had  a  wonderful  elTect  in  suppressing  the  infiD' 

The  discontented  annalists  of  tlie  era  mention  tliu  event,  by  aytBf 
that  the  queen  returned  with  the  legate,  and  that  "  together  they  toMet 
great  cursing." 

Thus  did  Eleanor  see  the  happy  termination  of  the  barons'  wm, 
and  was  once  more  seided  with  her  royal  partner  on  the  throne  i^ 
England. 

In  the  year  1267,  the  formidable  revolt  of  the  earl  of  GloncesKT 
occurred.  Fortunately  for  the  queen,  she  was  at  Windsor  when  hii 
partisans  stormed  her  palace  at  Westminster,  which  they  socked,  brmk- 
ing  and  destroying  everything  they  could  not  cany  away,  even  to  the 
doors  and  windows,  and  making  a  great  slaughter  of  the  roj'al  dontMtin, 
who  offered  some  slight  resistance.  They  also  did  great  mtacliicf  to  At 
beautiful  new-built  abbey.  Four  of  these  banditti  being  discuveml  tobt  i 
the  servants  of  the  earl  of  Derby,  were,  by  that  nobleman's  onlera,  DmI 
up  in  sacks,  and  thrown  into  the  Thames.'  J 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  prince  Edward  personally  encountered  ibt    I 
last  adherent  of  Leicester,  and  overcame  him.     The  queen  afierwinU    I 
proved  the  benefactress  of  the  gallant  outlaw,  Adam  tie  Gorili'ii.  >rb" 
was  not  B  Scot,  but  a  Poictevin.     We  translate,  from    i  ;     i 

lit  be  offeied  wi-' 

■Iks.     Bui  the    I., 

;  to  unreaaomiblii  .i  >, 

-aA  been  KniltL™  uS 

agaiiut  liirn  ami  Ibe  (guson,  tliiit  ne  Wu  al   leomh  inilKCecl 

innads  ro  tw(-nl^  thoiiunri  mnrluL— ^amam't  Sun^f. 

'  'Awali  of  London.    T.WUttx. 


<  whom  rarTf  blaiifht  termi  ooi 
tiioui  fina  or  liiiy  ihouHiiiiJ  n 
'igly  the  iin)>o»{bililj'  of  lainn 
et  riiin  many  families  who  I 


r  R  O  V  E  X  G  B. 

Ucniingfonl  and  Wikn,  lliia  odrenCure,  so  credilable  bolh  to  Eleaiio^ 
kuii  her  son. 

■*  Edward  engaged  iht  brave  outlaw,  Adam  de  Gordon,  in  Alton 
funtl  to  hand,  «ad  fHirly  conquered  him  in  a  personal  encounter. 
Ifnuitiiig  him  hia  life,  he  brought  him  to  his  wife's  palace  or  Guildrord^ 
where  hiB  mother  happened  la  be  that  evening,  and  introducing  him  to 
ilie  queen,  pleaded  so  eariiesily  for  him,  that  Henry  111.  pardoned  thia 
adherent  of  Leicester,  and  Eleanor  soon  after  gave  Gordon  an  office  at 
Windsor  Oude." 

St.  Eflward'a  Chapel  being  now  complered,  and  forming  the  crowning 
^nry  of  that  sublime  ehff  d'auvre  of  Gothic  archiieciure,  St.  Peter'a 
Abbey  at  Weslmineler,  which  Henry  III.  had  been  lifty  years  in  build- 
ing,  he,  ou  the  I3lh  of  October,  Si.  Edward's  day,  1200,  assisted  by  hia 
brother,  the  king  of  ilie  Romans,  and  his  princely  sons,  Edward  arid, 
Kdmund,  bore  the  bier  of  the  royal  saint  on  his  shoulders ;  and,  in  liul 
pnsence  of  his  queen  and  all  the  nobles  of  bis  court,  placed  it  in  ita 
new  statidti,  tjueen  Eleanor  oflering  a  silver  image  of  the  Virgin,  and 
oUier  Jewels  of  great  value,  at  llie  fnrine.  King  Ilenry  reservetlthe  old 
coffin  of  St.  Edward  for  his  own  private  use ;  having,  with  his  usud: 
Mrapliciiy,  an  idea  that  its  previous  occupution  by  the  royal  saint  bad 
made  it  a  peculiarly  desirable  tenemenl. 

rorliinately  for  Uie  future  peace  of  England,  Boniface,  archbishop  of 
'''i/iU-ritur}',  the  chief  cause  of  queen  Eleanor's  unpopularity,  ditnl  at 
~..vi>y  the  same  year  thai  prince  Edward  leti  England.' 

From  the  exchequer  rolls  of  this  reign,'  some  lighl  is  thrown  on  ihs 
ilomeslic  usages  of  royally  in  the  middle  ages.  The  royal  table  was, 
it  ihould  seem,  chiefly  supplied  by  the  Hherllfs  of  the  counties,  or  ilie 
bailiffii  of  towns.  Thus,  w^  find  that  the  ahenff  of  the  counties  of  Buck- 
ingham aiid  Bedford,  by  ihe  king's  command,  on  one  occasion  brought 
har  hundred  and  tweniy-eight  hens  to  Westminster,  for  his  use.  The 
bwli&  of  Bristol  provided  coiiget  eels,  and  the  sheri^  of  Essex,  fowla 
and  other  victuals.  The  bailiff  of  Newhaveu  brought  lompreya.  Th» 
•herifi' of  Gloucester  was  commanded  to  cause  twenty  salmons  to  be  piK 
inio  liis  pies,  agiunst  Christmas.  The  herring  pies  of  YarmouLli  and 
Norwich  still  form  part  of  iheir  quil-reni  to  llie  crown.  The  sheriff  of 
Sbsmx  waa  to  furnish  brawn,  and  other  provisions,  for  the  royal  usft 
The  shcrilf  of  Wiltshire  provided  oxen,  hogs,  sheep,  fruit,  corn,  and 
many  otlier  tilings  for  llie  queen,  when  she  was  at  her  dower  castle  of 
Uarlborough.  Tliesc  requisitions  were,  however,  by  no  means  coniined 
tn  eatabjes.  In  tlie  thirty-«evttnth  of  Henry  lll.'s  reign,  the  sheriffs  of 
Wiltshire  and  Sussex  were  each  ordered  to  buy  a  thousand  cUs  of  fina 
iiiiro,  and  to  send  it  to  ihe  royal  wardrobe  al  \Vesiminaler  before  thi 
utit  Whitsnmide;  and  the  linen  was  to  be  very  fair  and  delicate  il 

'  Mitdnx'i  HiiL  Eiehenuei  Libtrnl.  37  H.  III.  m.  4.     Somo  of  thete  suppli 
'•■t  know  were  quii-raDit,  u  the  bertini  pies  of  Yntmouth  and  Narwiub.     T^M 
N'tilTi.  in  aOter  it.jimDcei,  bouglit  the  pioductiua)  for  wliicli  oaoti  iocalily       ^' 
:.Jiii(nu,  and  pskl  tliemselrei  oul  of  the  crown  lenu  of  ihe  couaif  or  cily. 


I 

ha  a 


I 


I 

i 


SQ  ELEANOR    OP    PBOVEKCE. 

quality.  In  the  forly-eecond  of  Henry,  ihe  sherifig  of  Norfolk  vi 
Suflolk  were  cominantleiJ  to  diiburse  tliiriy  bezants,  to  be  off^nnl  U  9l 
Edmund's  shrine,  for  the  king  and  queen,  and  iheir  children.  Thir  Att- 
jiff  of  Nottinghamshire  was  enjoined  lo  cause  llie  queen's  chunbnil 
Nottingham  castle  to  be  painted  with  the  hiBiory  of  Alexander  iheOrai; 
and  the  sheriff  of  Southampton  to  cause  the  image  of  St.  Chri*toph*t, 
with  our  Saviour  in  his  arms,  and  the  image  of  SL  Edward  Ihe  kiiig,U 
be  painted  in  her  chapel  at  Winchester.' 

lie  of  the  Tower  rolls,  dated  Woodstock,  April  30th.  in  tli» 
ihtriy'secoDd  year  of  Henry  IIl.'s  reign,  that  monarch  directs  lii«  tnt- 
surer  and  chamberlain  to  pay  Master  Henry  the  poet,  whom  he  ktIe^ 
Liouately  alyles,  "  our  beloved  Master  Uenry,  the  versiGcBlor,"  one  hiiD- 
dred  shillings,  due  to  him  for  the  arrears  of  his  salary,  enjoiniug  ibmi 
to  pay  it  without  delay,  though  the  exchequer  was  then  shut. 

In  the  great  roll  of  the  forty-ninth  of  Henry  IH.  there  is  a  carimn 
account  of  queen  Eleanor's  wardrobe  expenses,  as  rendered  by  Hugh  of 
Ihe  Pen ;  from  the  feaat  of  St.  Philip  and  Si.  James,  in  the  forlv-finl  yw 
of  the  king  her  linshand,  till  the  feast  of  3l  Simon  and  St.  Judn,  fom- 
ninth  year,  under  Ihe  control  of  Alexander  de  Bradeham,  chaplain  lo  liii 
queen.  The  accounts  are  of  a  more  creditable  nature  to  EWuor  Iha 
might  be  imagined,  when  we  consider  the  reckless  expcndtlnre  ot  At 
first  years  of  her  marriage.'  There  was  expended  in  Ihe  lin«n  dsfw^ 
menl.  the  botlery,  kitchen,  scullery,  saisary,  hall,  in  feeding  the  poaii  >■ 
liveries  of  garfons,  farriery  and  shoeing  of  horses,  six  tliouawid  ^{kl 
hundred  and  eixteen  pounds.  In  oblations  for  holidays,  and  alniaMti- 
buted  d^ly,  and  by  the  wayside,  one  hundred  and  fifty-one  pounikuJ 
eighteen  shillings.  In  f  ilks,  mantles,  upper  garmeats,  linea  hose  (at  W 
ladies,  and  otlier  miicellaneous  expenses  for  the  wardrobe,  t,  kitoM 
and  four-score  pounds,  eleven  shillings,  and  twelve-pence  halfpentif' 
In  horses  purchased,  and  robes  for  the  queen's  family,  in  mnding  nbM 
in  shoes,  saddles,  reins,  almonds,  wax,  and  other  neceasuie*  for  dv 
wardrobe,  one  thousand  six  hundred  and  ninety-one  pounds,  anbt 
shillings,  and  one  petiny.     In  gifts  presented  to  knights,  derka,  wd  eliHt 

'Madoi'i  HitL  Eiclwq.  Roll*,  Memonnda,  aod  LilirnL  or  (lint  rn^n. 

'From  tbe  pniuKl  of  tbe  ancieuL  roll*,  it  apimi*  liiat  ■  part  at  iha  n>rsl  nf*- 
nuB  WHi  alwajra  devoieil  lo  bIhis,     Tliie  alms  wns  called  £Jtmuyaa  iiiiiifr— 
or  Killed  alnu,  and  we  Qnd  dial  ppiuions  were  aocusuxnnl  ta  be  taitl  n  4* 
tetvanu  of  ibe  king  and  queen,  when  aiBkness  or  age  inOopneJlBwd  ihcM  ftH 
(lie    performBOce  at  their   reipeclive  duties.     In  th«  reifcn  of  Hamy  ID,  fli 
ilierilfj  of  London  were  commanded  "  to  par  uuto  Riehard  Iha  ouMC  iha  MMf 
per  day  of  Ilia  king's  alms,  which  Nicholas  the  carprntet  (ued  u  tvon-ntttt 
theillTi  of  ibal  eiljr  for  the  lime  being."    The  king  granted  lo  Eliai  d*  ICIii^ 
for  hi*  good  service.  Llue«  liaUpeuce  par  daf  during  liii  life )  anil  la  hoMM 
.le  Fanihani,  the  king's  porter,  Iwopenoo  per  dnjf,  lo  be  received  nf  tV  *>rf 
oT  Essex,  unlil  the  king  should  otherwise  provide  for  him.     In  thr  nmi  ht^c 
bold  there  Wu  on  EUtmoifi»a  itttula  and  /oriniaa,  besides  wliiii  ,. 
in  oblaliuni  iumI  daily  alms,  hj  the  liaadi  of  the  king  anil  qD(>>?:i  - 
ulotbinit  for  the  poor,  and  other  necessaries  sent  to  them.     The-' 
rilieii  with  otlien  ol^  Uie  like  kind,  were  disbuned  out  of  tbe  kin 
aaJ  Ihe  queen's  private  cbatitiQi  out.  ot  Uci  wardrobe  ai 


BLBANOR    OF    PROVENCE.  81 

aettengen  coming  to  the  queen,  three  hundred  and  sixty-eight  pounds, 
leven  shillings,  and  ten-pence.  In  secret  gifls  and  private  alms,  four 
UMuand  and  seventeen  pounds,  ten  shillings,  and  three-pence.  In  jel- 
es,  spices,  apples,  pears,  and  other  fruit,  two  hundred  and  fifty-two 
oimds,  sixteen  shillings,  and  nine-pence  halfpenny.  In  jewels  bought 
n  the  queen^s  use,  Co  wit,  eleven  rich  garlands,  with  enaeralds,  pearls, 
ipphires, .  and  ffanets,  of  the  value  of  one  hundred  and  forty-five 
ooDds,  four  shifiings,  and  fourpence.  The  sura-total  of  these  expenses 
I  jC21^60  dJL  7^d^  and  the  accomptant  acknowledges  that  he  was  in 
oqilimge  £10,446  3s.  3d.  Thus,  we  see  how  large  a  portion  of  her 
leome  Eleanor  of  Provence  devoted  to  charitable  purposes.  But  the 
hancter  of  this  qneen  undoubtedly  improved  as  she  advanced  into  the 
lie  of  years. 

When  men  were  indebted  to  the  queen  for  aurum  regina^  she  some- 
lOies  respited,  pardoned,  and  discharged  the  debt,  as  she  saw  fit'  Elea- 
or  of  Provence,  oppressive  and  exacting  as  she  was,  occasionally 
sercised  this  mcious  prerogative,  as  we  learn  from  memoranda  con- 
lined  in  the  rolls  of  the  Exchequer,  where  it  is  recorded  that  the  queen 
ave  respite  to  Imoyne  de  Sulleye  for  thirty  marks,  which  he  owed  her 
or  amrum  rtgina  ;  and  in  the  same  roll,  dated  Southampton,  it  is  certi- 
iad,  ^  that  the  queen  pardoned  Patrick  de  Chauces  a  hundred  shillings, 
nred  for  queen-ffold,  due  on  the  fine  which  he  paid  to  the  king,  to  have 
eisin  of  the  lands  that  were  his  patrimony .'' '  In  the  fifth  roll  there  is 
Iso  record  of  Thomas,  son  of  Aucher,  having  respite  of  the  fine  of 
iAeen  marks,  due  for  a  trespass  in  the  forest,  and  of  the  portion  coming 
0  Eleanor. 

The  nuptials  of  queen  Eleanor's  second  son,  Edmund,  earl  of  Lan- 
aater  and  Derbv,  with  the  beautiful  Aveline,  heiress  of  William  Fortibus, 
arl  of  Albemarle,  had  been  celebrated  on  the  8th  of  April,  1270,  before 
lit  departure  for  the  Holy  Land.  The  youthful  bride  died  before  his 
etom,  in  the  first  year  of  her  nuptials.' 

Her  death  was  quickly  followed  by  that  of  the  kine  of  the  Romans ; 
or  grief  of  which,  king  Henry  fell  into  the  deepest  dejection  of  mind, 
ad,  having  been  in  person  to  quell  a  riot  in  Norwich,  in  which  great 
•rt  of  the  cathedral  was  burnt,  he  was  attacked  with  a  mortal  sickness 
t  Banr  St.  Edmunds :  but  his  anxiety  to  settle  the  affidrs  of  the  kingdom 
aoacd  him  to  insist  on  being  carried  on  to  London  by  short  stages. 
Vlien  the  dying  monarch  arrived  in  the  metropolis,  finding  his  dissolu- 
km  at  hand,  he  summoned  Gilbert  de  Clare,  earl  of  Gloucester,  into  his 

*  Mailox'B  History  of  the  Exchequer. 

*Tbe  care  of  the  wards  of  the  crown  was  occasionally  grentetl  to  the  queen, 
■  we  find  by  a  memomndum  of  Henry  UL,  specifying  that  queen  Eleanor,  haT- 
SB  the  cusiody  of  Baldwin  de  Lisle,  her  ward,  the  hereditary  chamberlain  of 
ha  exchequer,  she  presented  Thomas  Esperen  to  the  barons  to  fulfil  his  diiti«» 
M  deputy  chamberlain,  and  her  appointment  was  confirmed  by  tlie  king. 
*8he  was  interred,  with  pompous  obsequies,  in  Westminster  Abbey,  near  the 
tfta ;  her  stately  monument  and  effigy  adding  another  ornament  to  the  marrela 
of  acalptured  art,  witli  which  the  exquisite  taste  of  Henry  HI.  had  graced  that 
MgMi  Kpository  of  England's  royal  dead. 


SS  ELEAKOB    OF     FBOVBTICE. 

prtsence,  anil  made  him  swear  lo  prescfre  ihe  peace  of  England,  ilfl 
ihe  absence  of  prince  Edwan).  He  expired  on  iht  IBtb  of  Nfweu 
1872,  aged  eiiiy-Bii,  having  reined  fifty-iris  years  and  twcoiyil 
His  decease  happening  in  the  nighi,  John  Kirkeby  delivered  the  n 
seal  Ihe  nexl  morning  lo  Peter  of  Winchester,  keeper  of  the  wanb" 
the  archbiahop  of  York,  and  the  lesl  of  the  council-' 

By  the  only  will  king  Henry  ever  made,  queen  Eleanor  haria^  I 
appointed  regent  uf  England,  she  caused  the  council  to  assemble  U 
New  Temple,  on  the  20ih  of  November,  the  feast  of  St.  Edmonil 
martyr  and  king,  where,  by  her  consent'  and  appointment,  and  tlte 
vice  of  Robert  Kilwanlby,  archbishop  of  Cnnlerburj-,  the  earl  a'~' ' 
ter,  and  the  chief  peers  and  prelates  of  the  realm,  her  eldeal  • 
Edward,  waa  proclaimed  king  of  England,  by  the  style  a 
Edward  L 

The  remains  of  king  Henry,  roj-aily  robed  and  crowned,  ^  __ 
cording  to  his  own  desire,  placed  in  the  old  coffin,  in  which  thvt 
of  Edward  the  Confessor  had  originally  been  iniefred,  and  burial  j 
the  slirine  of  that  monarch  in  Westminster  Abbey.  The  kniffht*  t 
plars,  with  the  consent  nf  queen  Eleanor,  his  widow,  undertook  the 
and  expense  of  his  funeral,  which  was  very  magnificent.'  They  n 
s  sumpiuous  monument  to  his  memon',  which  waa  afterwards  M 
inlaid  with  jasper  and  precious  stones,  brought  from  the  Holy  L 
his  son  Edward  I.  for  thai  purpose. 

We  copy  the  translation  of  his  Latin  epitaph  from  Slow: 

'•  Tbe  fijend  of  pity  anil  almE-dced, 
Henry  Uie  Tliiril  wliilunie  or  England  kins, 
W)io  Itiis  cliuich  bnlcc,  and  after,  ai  bil 
Aeain  t»n«wed  inio  iliis  Giir  buiiding, 
Now  restelh  here,  which  did  bo  great  a 

After  the  funeral  of  king  Henry,  the  barons  « 
to  the  high  altar  of  Westminster  .Abbey,  and  sn 
sovereign. 

In  1273,  the  widowed  queen,  on  account  c. 
dissolved  the  old  foundation  of  the  hospital  of  St.  I 
Tower,  and  refounded  it  in  honour  of  the  same  n'  ' 
chaplain,  three  brethren,  three  sisieis,  ten  bedeawct 
scholars.  ^ 

The  pope  addressed  a  pastoral  letter  of  condolence  (o  1 
deaih  of  the  king  het  husband;  it  ta  written  jointly  to  bfvl 
Edward,  whom  he  felicitates  on  hia  accession,  and  re<)neata  I^ 
give  him  the  letter  on  liia  return. 

Soon  after  his  return,  Edward  I.  was  forced  to  nciift  m  m 
milled  by  his  mother,  which  was  much  in  the  stvle  of  her  f< 
of  rapBciiy.     Just  before  the  death  of  her  husband  she  I 
him  lo  grant  her  the  custody  of  London  bridge  for  atz  y 
Ihu  term  was  expired,  ihe  citizens  found  their  new-buS 


"Slew. 
'Uam'sm's  Surrey. 


•Speed- 


naunm^i 


r  Hntris  Nitolai. .  C 


■LBANOR    OF    PKOTBNCS. 

ring  great  injury,  ^  for,^  they  declared,  in  their  aupplicatioii 
,  ^  the  said  lady  queen  taketh  all  the  tolls,  and  careth  not  hv«v  tne' 
•e  is  kept"'    Edward  I.  soon  put  an  end  to  his  mother's  imcon- 
tious  proceedings. 

eanor  of  Prorence  lost  her  husband  and  daughter  in  one  year ;  for 
ely  had  the  tomb  closed  over  the  mortal  remains  of  her  royal  lord 
ihe  was  called  upon  to  mourn  the  death  of  her  eldest  daughter, 
rmret  queen  of  Scotland.  This  lady  had  come  to  pay  her  moUier  a 
ul  risit  of  condolence,  on  the  death  of  the  king  her  father,  and  died 
igland  in  the  thirty-third  year  of  her  age,  and  the  twenty-second  of 
narriage,  leaving  only  one  daughter,  who  was  married  to  Eric,  kinff 
'orway,  and  was  the  mother  of  the  Maid  of  Norway,  heiress  of 
and. 

It  the  rejoicings  and  festivities  of  the  coronation  of  Edward  I.  re- 
d  a  melancholy  interruption  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  the 
eta  of  Bretagne,  who  came,  with  her  lord,  to  witness  the  inaugura- 
of  her  royal  brother,  and  died  very  unexpectedly  a  few  days 
vards,  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  her  age,  greatly  lamented  by  her 
rious  consort,  and  by  her  mother  queen  Eleanor.  Matthew  of 
Iminster  says  she  was  a  princess  of  great  beauty  and  wit' 
leen  Eleanor  and  Edward  I.  preserved  a  great  regard  for  the  duke 
retagne,  after  the  decease  of  lady  Beatrice. 

lere  is  a  letter  in  the  second  volume  of  the  FoBdera  from  Eleanor, 
ig  her  widowhood,  to  the  king  her  son,  in  which  she  appears  to 
a  lively  interest  in  the  welfare  of  her  son-in-law.  It  is  thus 
ed:— 

>w*s  London. 

lere  is  a  letter  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Foedera,  from  Blanche  duchess  of 

^e,  the  mother-in-law  of  this  princess,  addressed  to  Henry  III.,  in  which 

ia  affectionate  mention  made  of  Beatrice  and  her  eldest  son.    We  transcribe 

itter,  as  affording  one  of  the  earliest  specimens  of  fiuniliar  correspondence 

sen  myul  personages  in  the  middle  ages.     After  the  usual  superscription  to 

ny  high  and  very  dear  lord  Henry,  by  the  grace  of  God,  king  of  England, 

bc,  slie  commences : — 

ire,  I  pray  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  inform  us  of  your  state,  which  may 

Old  of  his  grace  make  always  good;  for  know,  my  dear  lord,  that  I  have 

joy  at  all  times  in  having  good  news  of  you. 

now,  sire,  that  my  lady  Beatrice,  your  dear  daughter  and  ours,  is  still  sick 

r  fever,  but  is  much  better,  God  be  thanked,  and  her  physicians  tell  us  that 

!ver  cannot  last  long. 

pray  you,  my  dear  lord,  if  we  have  anything  in  our  parts  that  you  would 

ne  to  send,  to  inform  me;  for  know,  sire,  that  I  shall  have  very  great  joy 

mn  do  anjTihing  for  you.     And  know,  sire,  that  Arthur  is  good  and  very 

lAil,  God  be  thanked !     Our  Lord  have  you  in  his  care." 

is  letter  is  dated  1205,  and  is  written  in  old  French.     There  is  also  a  letter 

tin  from  the  young  duchess  Beatrice  to  the  king  her  father,  on  the  same 

of  tlie  Fcedera,  written  at  the  time  of  this  illness,  which  she  says  Is  "  a 

in  fever  or  ague,"  and  she  entreats  her  father  **  not  to  distress  himself  on 

nt  of  her  indisposition.'*-— She  had  six  children  by  the  duke  of  Bretagne 

whom  she  lived  happily  twelve  years.    She  was  buried  in  the  chuick  ol 

nj  Friars. 


ELEA 


DR    OF    PROV 


i.NCE. 


R  tomm  DCS*  or  8u* 


I 


■■  LkTTIB  Of  AlIXIUBI.  TBC    aOTVEH  or  th 

"  AUonor,  by  [ho  gioce  of  God,  qiieeu  of  England,  10  tha  Icing  oot  Mo.  ki 
wiih  (mi  lieniHin. 

*<Inurniicb  a»  our  son,  John  of  BreUigne.  «  in  n  fpreign  lBBcI,Bnd  r 
me  w  hrii  nio(he«,  anil  yvo  as  lii*  lonl.  Hime  recoiiiineBiliiiioii,  oar  Sit  ^ 
Uksitb  (his  saneschal  in  iLaglnndJ  ouxlii  ut  gu  10  Lh  Dome  quiddy  le  hi 
tain  adinga  of  hU  luid. 

"  Wo  pray  and  re<]uira  ihat  you  would  giunl  thjj.  n>  my  Sir  Klrol  de  8i  _  ^ 
on  Bitend  bi  hii  wmu  ht  tliit  enunttj,  and  we  wish  itinl  yon  wmild  troi  fvai 
lenar  by  him,  a*  hi-  will  underitiuid  It,  tor  he  will  Dot  go  wiikoai  your  iai»0Bl 
oomniand;  and  wc  pray  you  thai  yoa  will  do  il  ijuickly.  and  if  you  irtll  phat 
K>  give  ihe  powei  by  joar  lener  thai  lis  auty  ba*a  oJIgrM,'  whetv  h«  plt*«« 
the  MJiie  as  fan  sranied  ID  ihe  Sirs  do  Dreux,  Lii  bmtlur. 

"  And  eicuHi  Sir  John  de  Maurro  dial  be  uannoi  make  hi»  fn«/  »  you  bdbi* 
he  dppHrti,  for  ho  cannot  do  il  on  account  of  haste.     We  oominend  you  »  CoJ 

•'Civen  at  Luteefihall,  8ih  day  of  October. " 

It  is  probable  thai  Eleanor  was  eudeting  ftpm  some  kind  of  ttdacaa. 
in  llie  year  1275,  for  wo  finil  in  the  Fwileni  a  proieclion  ^nltd  fcj 
Edward  I.  "  lo  Master  William,  the  Provemjal,  physieo  lo  the  ^ 
mother,  whom  the  said  queen  tind  procured  lo  coine  10  her  from  h 
B««."     It  is  especiHlly  provided,  in  this  proieclion,  "  That  the  P 
physician  is  to  be  left  in  quiet  at  all  times  and  plares,  saw  tf 
he  answerable  far  any  debts  that  lie  may  contract  in  this  eomiir 

It  has  been  generally  asserled  llist  Eleanor  of  Proreuce  1 
nunnery  of  Ambreebnry,  soon  alter  the  coronation  of  her  son  EdwanI 
L;  but  this  does  not  appear  to  have  been  the  case,  for  several  cif  ha 
precepts  and  letters  are  iIsIm]  from  Waliham,  Guildford,  Luigfrshali.  mi 
other  places.*  She  retired  lo  Ainbresbury  as  a  residence  in  1280,  but 
she  ilid  not  take  the  veil  till  four  years  afWrwanls. 

There  is  an  original  letter  from  queen  Eleanor  to  her  son,  k.in{  Ed- 
ward, dated  from  Wallhain : 

■Alianoiu,  by  the  grao*  of  God,  queen  of  England,  lo  our  dear  aoa  ik*  UiC 
health  and  our  biesaing, 

•  We  bare  sent  your  prayei  lo  thd  king  of  FraDce.  that  he  may  Itnd  hk  Ml 
ia  puKhating  our  abore  of  ibe  Imnil  of  PioveucB.*  We  have  ilona  ib*  iMNrfa 
you,  wlikh  you  sent  to  in,  and  we  pmy  you  to  hear  it  psul,  Knd  if  it  p|«aM  |«« 
b«*e  it  Moled,  and  if  not,  that  you  would  be  pleatol  to  eomaanJ  ii  B  1* 
■mended,  and  sent  Ibrthwilh  ta  your  aunt,  my  lady  of  Fiance.  We  bIsb  aaoM 
you  that  you  would  lend  to  Mecue  Bonnst,  your  clerk,  that  be  woal4  il 
tilvance  Ihii  loquesl  io  Iha  court  of  France  ta  much  ■:    ' 


the  que» 


iGod. 


b  day  of  July,  1383." 
The  four  younger  sons  of  queen  Eleanor,  Richard,  John,  ^ 

'Rymet'i  Ftedern,  vol.  ii.  p,  831. 

'SuppoiB  ntloruBy  letterj  of  petoniary  oreJil. 

'Pram  fliis  letter  it  appears  thai  the  surviving  a 
wliom  our  Eleanor  was  one,  compnundi^d  dieic  ligbls  ti-t  monny  to  ih 
sifter,  who,  by  Ibe  will  of  iheii  fclhet  Barrngei,  waa  10  aueceed  lo  the  < 
dT  that  diiirici.    This  sister,  Beatrice,  wu  the  wife  of  the  bnnber  U 
rharles  of  Anjoa.  in  whoae  line  the  beautiful  eouuly  of  ProTBuoe  tf 
ftwBB  ty  ttu  euAm  of  4w  tu^  oCota  tnJiappr  qMen,  IT 


■  LBANOR    OF    PROVBNCB.  85 

nd  I Jeniy,  all  died  before  the  king  their  fiither ;  so  that,  of  her  nine 
^ildren,  two  sons  only  were  surviving  at  the  time  she  retired  to  Am- 
vsbury.  In  the  year  1280,  her  son,  king  Edward,  visited  her  there, 
hen  he  was  on  bis  march  to  Wales.  Queen  Eleanor  then  showed  him 
Dsan  who  said  be  had  received  his  sight  through  the  miraculous  inters 
•ition  of  the  late  king  Uenty  III.,  in  consequence  of  having  ofiered  up 
I  prayers  at  his  tomb. 

Edwvd,  whose  sound  judgment  taught  him  to  regard  the  legend  with 
5  contempt  its  felsehood  merited,  entreated  his  mother  not  to  bestow 
r  pfttrooage  on  a  base  impostor,  whom  a  prince  of  his  father's  piety 
d  justice,  would  certainly  rather  have  punished  with  loss  of  speech 
r  his  hypocrisy,  than  restored  to  sight,  had  he  indeed  possessed  the 
•wer  of  doing  either.' 

Two  years  after  this  date,  king  Edward  again  visited  his  widowed 
3Cher  in  her  monastic  retreat  Her  profession  as  a  nun  did  not  take 
ice  till  the  year  1284,  when  she  was  solemnly  veiled,  in  the  church 
Ambresbury;  and,  according  to  the  words  of  her  contemporary 
ikes,  ^  she  laid  down  the  diadem  from  her  head,  and  the  precious 
trple  from  her  shoulders,  and  with  them  all  worldly  ambition."  She 
nnaded  her  younff  grand-daughter,  the  princess  Mary,  the  fifth  daugfa- 
r  of  Edward  ].  and  his  queen  Eleanor  of  Castille,  to  take  the  vows  at 
e  same  time,  together  with  Eleanor,  daughter  to  the  deceased  duchess 
'  Bretagne. 

Qpeen  Eleanor,  though  bent  on  a  conventual  life,  had  delayed  her 
ofeMion  till  she  could  obtain  the  pope's  license  to  keep  her  rich 
iwry  as  queen-dowager  of  England.' 

She  received  the  tenderest  attention  and  respect  from  her  son,  king 
Iward,  who  regarded  her  with  great  afiection ;  and  once,  when  he  was 
mg  to  France  to  meet  the  king,  his  cousin,  on  a  matter  of  the  greatest 
iportance,  and  had  advanced  as  far  as  Canterbury  on  his  journey, 
eeiving  intelligence  of  the  sudden  and  alarming  illness  of  his  mother, 
)  instantly  gave  up  his  French  voyage^  and  hastened  to  her. 
Uatthe  w  of  Westminster  mentions  the  profession  of  queen  Eleanor  as 
king  place  in  the  year  1287,  in  the  following  terms : — ^  That  generous 
rago,  £lianora,  qneen  of  England,  and  mother  of  the  king,  took  the 
dl  and  religious  habit  at  Ambresbury,  on  the  day  of  the  translation  of 
:  Thomas,  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  having  obtained  leave  of  the 
ipe  to  keep  possession  of  her  dower  in  perpetuity,  according  to  her 
kh." 

After  queen  Eleanor's  profession,  her  uncle,  Philip,  earl  of  Savoy, 
)plied  to  her  and  her  son,  king  Edward,  requesting  them  to  choose 
om  among  his  nephews  a  successor  to  his  dominions,  as  he  was  him- 
ilf  childless,  and  distracted  by  the  intrigues  and  quarrels  of  tlie  rival 
iimants.' 

There  is  a  long  letter  in  the  FcBdera  on  this  subject,  addressed  jointly 
>  Eleanor,  the  qneen-mother,  and  king  Edward  her  son,  by  the  dying 

'HWeitminster.    T.Wiket.  'T.Wiket.     Annalt  of  Waverlef . 

'  Pvmer'tFaBdeim,  vol.  U. 

VOL.  U.^8  F 


* 


earl,  in  which  he  enireats  ihem  to  deride  for  him,  anJ  ^'declam  ihtl 
hi«  bishops  and  nobles  are  willing  lo  recognise  whomsoever  ihev  on 
think  proper  lo  appoint  for  his  heir." 

Qneen  Eleanor  was,  in  the  following  year,  named  aa  executor  to 
Philip  of  Savoy's  laat  will  and  testament,  jointly  wiili  her  son,  kinc  Ed' 
war<l.  The  testator,  with  many  cumpHments  lo  "  ihe  wisdom,  jinmnwe, 
sflbflion,  and,  more  than  lljal,  the  good  faith  and  probity  of  the  ({Wal 
and  her  son,  rommiis  the  disposal  of  all  his  personal  properly  lo  ie  by 
them  divided  between  all  his  nephews  and  nieces."' 

It  appears  that  Atnadeus,  the  son  of  the  deceased  Thnmas  of  Svnjj 
eail  of  Flanilers,  was  ihe  sovereign  chosen  by  queen  Eleanor  '  '  " 
son,  king  Edward,  la  sncceed  to  the  dominions  of  her  dyit^  ni 

When  Eleanor's  life  was  fast  ebbing  away,  and  »he  I«y  iiii 
pain  OD  her  sick-bed,  it  is  recorded  that  she  gave  excellent 
her  son,  regarding  a  very  perplexing  sl&ir,  which  had  just  ha| , 
his  court.  Edward  had  given  refuge  to  a  slate-prisoner,  who 
capcd  from  the  ChStelei  in  Paris,  This  Frenrhiiuin  was  a  literary  da- 
racter,  and  named  Thomas  de  Tnrbeville.  It  tnmed  ont  thai  TtiAcTSIt 
was  in  reality  a  spy.  a  clerk  of  the  king's  council  having  interecptfd  t 
letter,  in  which  the  ungraiefid  man  described  ihe  best  place  for  miiof 
kiiig  Edward,  and  taking  him  prisoner  to  France.  Tnrbeville,  brinf 
fully  convicted  of  treason,  was  condemned  to  be  execuled ;  "  but,"  «Ji 
Piers,  from  whom  we  draw  ihe  siory,  "he  had  dread  to  die,''  attd  *«i 
the  king  word  that  he  was  willing  lo  confess  who  b&d  iiiBbgaled  ilic 
crime,  as  several  great  men  at  court  were  implicated  in  ihe  aitcnpt 
Thoma-t  was  therefore  respited,  till  the  king's  pleasure  was  knnwa. 
The  dutifnl  monarch  was  watching  by  ihe  bedside  of  his  agwi  rnMbt, 
when  the  messaee  was  detivcred,  **lhai  a  confession  regarding  arrmii- 
pi  ices,  usually  exlorled  by  loriure,  was  voluniarily  offered  by  Ttionw 
sumamed  Troubletown,"  ihe  liieral  interpretation  of  the  name  of  Torte- 
ville.  But  the  dying  queen-mother,  seeing,  perhaps,  tho  thing*  of  ^ 
world  by  the  light  of  that  which  was  approaching,  offered  advice  foil  tt 
wisdom  OQ  the  subject : 

ury  ihe  king 


At  Ambfeib 

With  his  mo 

Wlien  to  hilt)  came  tiiliiif 

Of  Troubletown  TliomaB 

Tber  Mid  him  «  iIhI 

Thomas  would  saj'  to  bin 

To  «-.r 


J^or  kiUt  wiO  makt  a  ht. 
A»d  iknmgh  taeh  «rrf  nUlr 
Vtngtattet  and  filany. 
Son,  on  my  blsnng 
Which  were  his  tnitoki  grim;  Trow  you  not  his  aiw, 

Bui  frt  bim  h&ve  ending 
As  iraiwr  bf  law." 

Edward  took  this  wise  advice,  and  Tnrbeville  died  without  hit  m^ 
n  being  required,  a  proceeding  which  saved  the  king 
torroenting  suspicions,  regarding  llie  lideliiy  of  bis  aem 
EJeanor  of  Provence  survived  the  king,  her  husband, 

'Symei'B  f  iBdeTB,  vol.  u,  '  Cea 


BLXANOR    OF    PROVBIICB.  87 

!ied  at  the  nunnery  of  Ambresbury,  June  24th,  during  the  absence 
r  ton  in  Scotland.  Thomas  Wikes  thus  records  the  particulars  of 
leath  and  burial,  in  his  LAtin  chronicle,  ^^The  fleeting  state  of 
ly  glory  is  shown  by  the  fact,  that  the  same  year  carried  off  two 
ih  queens,  wife  and  mother  of  the  king,  both  inexpressibly  dear  to 

The  nnvs  of  Ambresbury  not  being  able  to  seputare  the  queen- 
!r  with  sufficient  magnificence,  had  her  body  embalmed,  so  that  no 
)tion  ensued,  and  in  a  retired  place  reverentially  deposited  it,  till 
rd  returned  from  his  Scottish  campaign.  On  the  king's  return,  he 
oned  all  his  clergy  and  barons  to  Ambresbuiy,  where  he  solemnly 
eted  the  entombhig  <^  his  mother,  on  the  day  of  the  nativity  of 
eased  Mary,  in  her  conventual  church,  where  her  obsequies  were 
ntly  celebrated.  But  the  heart  of  his  mother  king  Edward  carried 
lim  to  London.  Indeed,  he  brought  there  the  hearts  of  both  the 
B ;  ^  and,  on  the  next  Sunday,  the  day  of  St  Nicholas,  before  a 
lultitude,  they  were  honourably  interred,  the  conjugal  heart  in  the 
i  of  the  Friars  Preachers,  and  the  maternal  heart  in  that  of  the 

Minors,'  in  the  same  city." 

ODff  the  parliamentary  rolls,  we  meet  with  a  remarkably  pitiful 

0  from  the  converted  Jews,  patronised  ^  by  Dame  Alianor,  com- 

1  of  king  Henry  III.,''  setting  forth,  ^  that  their  converts  had  been 
led  two  hundr^  and  two  pounds  and  four-pence,  from  the  ex- 
er,  for  their  sustenance,  which  had  not  been  received  by  them ; 
At  the  poor  converts  prayed  their  lord,  king  Edward  I.,  to  grant 
me,  seeing  that  the  said  poor  converts  prayed  indefiaitigably  for  the 
of  the  late  king  Henry  and  the  queen  Eleanor,  his  companion,  on 
I  God  have  mercy ;  therefore  they  hope  the  said  sum  may  be  paid 
i  treasurer  for  the  sustenance  of  the  converts.  For  God's  nke, 
ike  pitie ."'  is  the  concluding  sentence  of  this  moving  supplication. 

i«n  Eleanor  survived  to  see  the  conquest  of  Wales,  and  the  con- 
if  marriage  between  her  grandson,  Edward  of  Caernarvon,  the  heir 
gland,  and  her  great-grand-daughter,  Margaret,  the  heiress  of  Scot- 
nd  Norway,  through  which  a  peaceful  union  of  dioee  realms  with 
nd,  Ireland,  Wales,  Aquitaine,  and  Ponthieu,  was  contemplated ; 
Wdgement  which  promised  to  render  her  descendants  the  most 
iul  sovereigns  in  Europe. 

•  implies  that  he  had  carried  the  heart  of  his  beloved  consort  with  him 
IiikL 

nraonlf  called  the  Minories.    Those  authors  are  mistaken  who  say  she  is 
in  Si.  Edward's  chapel ;  <here  is  no  memento  of  her  in  Westminster 


ELEANORA  OF  CASTILLE. 

SCBNAMED  THB  FAITHr0L. 

FIRST  QUEEN    OF  EDWAKO  I. 


I 

I 


ElMinon  IniBniiL  of  Cutille — Desccol — Inheriiance — Mar 

niolher  ami  prince  Edwan!    liiit  Spsin — Elesnora's    marriaBe  M , 

Jonrnpy  to  Bnglond — Fe«ii  at  ToihiU — Eleonofa  fetirp*  to  Tnact — Brtim 
10  Engtand — Sons  bom — Croiaitf — Elesaon  prepares  ID  aliBre  it — Arrim  M 
Aoie — Eilwardi  wound — Aieatsin — Grierof  Eleanom — Prinoe  EJwuil'iB' 
nea* — His  will — Bitih  of  Joanna  of  Aere — Death  of  Elesnoia'i  loiu — OfUil 
Henrj — Qoeou  Eleanora  viiiu  Rome — Kiih  of  aji  heir  at  3[aine — Ttvnif* 
tial  «9cape  of  king  and  queen — Land  a(  Dover — CoronalioD — V~ 
of  Llewellen — Eleanora  astisu  at  nuptialt — War  renewed — BtEanon  i 
Edwaid'i  canipaigni — Eeep«  codtI  at  Rbuddlan — Pnoceas  bom  in  W»>» 
Caarnatvoti  Canie — Quspn'a  chamber — The  eagle  lower — Binh  of  pnait 
EdwBid — Death  of  prince  Alphonso — Queen  at  Guienne — Binb  of  jiiunir 
daughleis — Queen's  plnu — Edward  ilepaili  Ibr  the  nonh — Elcauora  iuttm 
him — Sudden  ilealh — King  returns — His  extreme  grief — Follow*  her  mnu 
Solemn  mourning — Burial — Tomb — Epiia|)h — Crostei  lo  Elmuiom')  atafj 
— Traill  of  the  limei — Eleanorai  imptovemenu — Hoi  creditor*— Ihajrn fa 
bar  aool — Her  children. 

Tbb  marriage  of  the  inranta  Donna  EleaDora  of  Caaiille  with  priaet 
Fklward,  heir  of  Englanil,  happily  (erminated  a  war,  which  her  bnMjiBi    ' 
king  AlphODSo,  sumained  the  Aatronomer,'  was  waging  with  [Itsvy  Dl-r    /' 
ou  account  of  eoiae  obsolete  claims  the  Caatillian  monarch  Uitl  U)  iht    ' 
province  of  Gascony.' 

AlphonsD  had  invaded  Ouienne,  but,  contrary  to  his  usual  fottoiM 
Ifenry  IIL  had  Uie  best  of  the  i^onteel,  and  the  royal  CostiLliaii  v»f  gU 
to  maLe  overtures  for  peace.  Henrj-,  who  had  not  the  least  gall  of  hfr 
lerupss  in  his  composition,  and  was  always  more  willing  to  protnolti 
festlral  than  continue  a  fray,  luckily  recollecteil  that  Alphonso  Md  ■  Hi 
young  sister  to  dispose  of,  whose  age  would  just  suit  his  beii,  pnott 
Rdwuxl.  He  therefore  despatched  lus  private  chaplaia,  the  hi^wfti 
Baih,  wilh  his  secretary,  John  Manse),  from  Bordeaux,  (o  demud  At 
hand  of  the  young  Infanta,  as  a  pledge  of  her  brother's  placable  iliM- 
tions.    These  ambassador?  speedily  returned  with  Don  AiphocuoS  OBf 

'  He  was  the  Eelebrmled  icfol  philompber  who  inven 
of  Rirmnoiaf.     His  countrymen  ctilleil  him,  11  Sabio,  or  the  Wiss. 

'He    pretended    that  Henry   H.  bad   tetilsd   thi*  proviiica  tn  fail  i 
Ptamtion,  ^ueen  of  CasliUe. 
CM) 


BLBANORA    OF    CA8TILLB.  89 

It,  inscribed  in  a  scroll  sealed  with  gold.'    Alphonso  stipulated  that 
English  prince  should  come  to  Burgos,  to  receive  the  hand  of  his 
Je,  five  weeks  before  Michaelmas-day,  1254 ;  otherwise  the  contract 
mid  be  null  and  void. 

rhe  stipulation  was  not  unreasonable,  for  both  the  mother  and  grand- 
ther  of  the  bride  had  been  long  engaged  to  English  princes,  who  had 
ken  their  troth. 

;*he  king  of  Castille  was  but  half-brother  to  the  young  donna  Elea- 
I.  She  was  the  only  child  of  Ferdinand  III.  of  Castille,  by  Joanna, 
ntess  of  Ponthieu,  who  had  been  many  years  before  contracted  to 
iry  III.,  king  of  England.  Joanna  inherited  Ponthieu  from  her 
her^ — that  princess,  Alice  of  France,  whose  betrothment  with  Rich- 
Coeur  de  Lion,  in  the  preceding  century,  had  involved  Europe  in 
.  Eleanora,  as  the  sole  descendant  of  these  princesses,  was  heiress 
nmptive  to  Ponthieu  and  Aumerle,  which  provinces  the  royal  widow 
!!SMtille,  her  mother,  retained  in  her  own  possession. 
IThen  the  preliminaries  of  the  marriage  were  settled,  the  queen  of 
land,  Eleanor  of  Provence,  set  out  for  Bordeaux,  with  her  son  prince 
raid}  and  from  thence  travelled  across  the  Pyrenees  with  him  to 
108,  where  they  arrived  August  5th,  1254,  within  the  time  limited 
be  royal  astronomer. 

stately  festival  was  held  in  the  capital  of  Castille,  in  honour  of  the 
tials  of  the  young  Infanta  with  the  heir  of  England.  At  a  touma- 
C  Kiren  by  king  Alphonso,  the  prince  received  knighthood  from  the 
ra  of  his  brother-in-law.  Edward  was  just  fif^n,  and  the  princess 
e  years  younger,'  at  the  time  of  their  espousals. 
Anr  the  chivalric  festivities  at  Burgos  had  ceased,  queen  Eleanor 
noesed  the  Pyrenees,  accompanied  by  her  son  and  young  daufhter- 
iw.  King  Henry  waited  at  Bordeaux  to  receive  his  son's  bride.'  He 
prepared  so  grand  a  festival  for  the  reception  of  the  young  Infanta, 
oe  expended  three  hundred  thousand  marks  on  her  marriage-feast, 
le  indignation  of  his  English  peers.  When  one  of  them  reproached 
for  thtf  extravagance,  the  king  replied,  in  a  dolorous  tone : 
O !  for  the  head  of  God  say  no  more  of  it,  lest  men  should  stand 
led  at  the  relation  thereof?^ 

enry  settled  on  the  prince,  his  heir,  all  the  Aquitanian  domains, 
rited  from  Eleanora,  his  grandmother;  he  likewise  created  him 
ce  of  Wales,  with  an  exhortation  to  employ  his  youth  in  conquering 
principality,  of  which  he  and  his  princess,  rather  prematurely, 
mad  the  title,  together  with  that  of  Guienne.  One  thousand  pounds 
annam  was  the  dower  settled  on  the  young  Eleanora,  in  case  the 
ee  should  die  before  his  father. 

ienry  111.  ordered  a  suite  of  rooms  to  be  fitted  up  for  his  daughter- 
iw,  in  the  castle  of  Guildford ;  his  directions  particularly  specify 

reserved  iQ  the  Chapter  Houie  at  Westminster.     (Rapin.) 
he  is  mentioned  by  all  chroniclers  as  a  very  young  girL     Piers  of  LangtoA, 
Dontemporary,  speaks  of  her  as  a  cliild.     Her  ago  seems  about  ten,  at  this 
od.    Robert  of  Gloucester,  Piers,  and  Matthew  Paris,  are  the  authoriXMM  fm 
erenu  of  this  marriage.  *  Matthew  l^ina. 


I 

I 


90  BLEAKOR*    OF    CAftTILLE. 

ibsi  ber  chuuber  i*  tu  have  glaxed  window*,  ■  niaeil  hcartht  k  clunuic/. 
•  wnrdrobci  miiI  wi  Mijoining  wraloryi  or  oriel.' 

The  young  prinrcH  BccompMiKl  ihe  1°}'*^  &mily  la  HauUuiI,  Ltirriii|l' 
Francr,  and  til  Pans   was  lixl^   iii  the  Tcniplo,  whim  II<  i. 
ihttl  celebntwl  Uuiquet  loSl.  LouiB^mvulJuued,  ia  theprocr.: 
M  the  f«aal  of  kiiigo.     Hi^h  fesUvtla  tiul  hoaoan  wwo  yi< 
reception  in  EnglanJ,     Tho  most  nolet!  of  these  wna  ili..  ^ 
taiiiniGut,  giren  by  the  sermlary  of  slate,  John  Mansel,  a  pri<:$L 
Henry,  queen  Elmniini.  thr  bri(l«  of  prince  EiiwanU  llie  jirince 
Lite  king  and  queeii  i>l'  Scoilaiid,  wiib  hucU  nuiolwrs  of  iheii  reiiauBillBl 
John  MiuiMirs  houtie  at  Tuihtll  coultl  not  hold  tislf  the  compaayi  thtj 
wcra  lodged  iu  tents  and  gre«n  booths,  tcl  up  round  tho  luansiou.    Setei 
liuridred  inefMfl  of  mtat  wcro  served  up  nt  ihia  diimcr. 

I'ritice  Eilward  aitil  bii  youn^  bride  paMett  o«tc  to  Bordeaux  in  T35I1;    ' 
4ad  while  Eleanorti  wai  comjUcting  her  edncaliuu,  the  yim-y-  ■"■'•'•--  >a< 
th«  wHnderiiig  lil'u  of  a  knight-emuil,  "  liaunting  loumaui'") 
they  were  (pvn;.*     U«  wa«  at  Paris,  tiliiug  at  a  ve^'  - 
tmtch  ia  l^Sll,  when  n«w8  wm  brought  him  of  thn  tloI'  < 
betu'iien  tlio  English  barons  and  hia  father,  which  M  to  tiic  i>  imti  ii'u 
war  iliBt  convulsml  England  for  more  ihati  three  ycttrs.     During  ite    ; 
whole  of  that  disaxirous  em,  liis  youii^  princess  resided  ui  Fnnof,  w'llk    , 
iho  i««i  of  iJie  royal  (omily,  eiilicr  with  qiinen  Marguerite  of  Fnncc,oi    . 
with  her  own  muUier  at  Pouthieu. 

After  the  heroic  eirurla  of  prince  Edward  had  freed  his  dtbrr  ud 
nwlored  hitn  to  hie  tltroike,  and  the  country  breathed  iu  peace  afUt  (Ix 
dreadful  strife  at  Evesham,  tite  royal  ladies  of  England  ventured  to  tPlnni 
Ou  llie  -iadi  of  October,  1205,  Eleanor  of  Provirnr«,  iiuceu  of  EugM 
Willi  her  daugbter-iu-Iaw,  Kleanora  of  Coslille,  landed  at  Dover,'  what 
they  wore  rocwved  by  Henry  III.  and  prince  Eilwurd;  from  ihene?  th»r 
were  C3e\)rl«d  (u  CautfTbur)-,  where  iho  royal  party  was  magQi""  "" 
enterlaincd  by  liie  arclibishi>p. 

Prince  Edward  hnd  Ie(\  hie  wife  an  uninformed  girl ;  she 
lovely  young  woman  of  twenty,  lo  wlioce  chnmctcr  the  luicei 
fortune  bad  assuredly  given  a  favounhle  bios.  The  prinrc 
restored  wife  to  Sl  John's,  Siniibfield,  after  a  nugniliceut  weicomt 
the  citisens.  Eleanor*  afterwards  removed  lo  the  jmlace  of  the  Sum 
which  had  been  origiiinily  built  by  count  Peter  of  Savoy,  her  hmbaon 
uncle,  and  afterwards  purcliased  by  Eleanor  of  Provence,  •(  a  Loate 
■in,  or  residence  fur  the  younger  hrauches  of  her  family.  Thii  wm  Uo 
abode  of  Eleanoia  of  Casiillu  when  she  attended  the  court  at  WasDU* 
*>er,  but  her  lavourite  reeideuce  was  the  casllo  of  Windsor.  Uen  h* 
eldest  child  wns  horn,  the  year  after  her  return  to  England ;  be  «■ 
luuiied  John,  after  hia  grandfethcr  of  evil  meniorj-.  Iii  ihe  «acceedfal( 
year,  li^Ctf,  Eleanon  gave  birth,  at  Windsor,  Iu  a  princess  naned  Ql^ 
nora,  and  the  year  after  lo  prince  Henry.  The  beauty  of  these  nhildnn> 
and  their  early  promise,  so  much  delighted  their  royal  grandlMher,  Ad 
ne  greatly  augmented  the  dower  of  Uie  mother. 


it 


' Stow'f  l^,^■l^Tn_ 


■  I.BAHORA    OF    CA8TILLB.  01 

klward  took  up  the  cross  in  12G9,  and  his  virtuoos  princess 

share  the  perils  of  his  Syrian  campaign.  Before  she  aeparted 
mdy  she  accompanied  her  mother-in-Uw,  in  a  grand  progress 

shrines.  During  tlie  royal  progress  to  Northampton,  the 
leanora  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Dunstable,  in  company  with 
nor,  and  oflered  at  the  shrine  of  Sl  Peter  an  altar-cloth  of 
le,  as  a  thanksgiving  for  the  health  of  her  children.    On  her 

assisted  at  a  magnificent  convocation  of  the  barons  of  Eng- 
9lminster  Hall,  where  they  swore  fealty  and  kissed  the  hand 
I  son,  prince  John,  and  recognised  him  as  his  father's  soccet- 
i  of  the  death  of  Edward,  in  the  ensuing  crusade, 
oporary  historian  *  has  leA  us  a  very  graphic  portrait  of  the 
'  Eleanora,  at  tliis  period  of  his  life.  ^  He  was  a  prince  of 
n,  and  majestic  stature,  so  tall  that  few  of  his  people  reached 
sr.  His  ample  forehead  and  prominent  chest  added  to  the 
his  personal  appearance.    His  arms  were  most  agile  in  the 

•word,  and  his  length  of  limb  gave  him  a  firm  seat  on  the 
)d  horses.     His  hair  was  light  bdore  his  eastern  campaigns, 

dark  in  middle  life.  His  lefl  eyebrow  had  a  slightly  oblique 
a  shade  of  resemblance  to  his  father's  face,  in  wnose  portrait 
is  very  strongly  marked.  The  speech  of  Edward  was  some- 
iting,  but  when  animated  was  passionately  eloquent    His 

which  EUeanora  of  Castille  had  the  sole  merit  of  sof^ning 
ng,  was  naturally  a  fiery  one,  but  generous  when  opposition 

id  the  ladies  of  Eleanora  represent  to  her  the  hardships  and 
er  attendant  on  a  crusade;  for  death  on  the  Asiatic  coast 
in  many  forms  beside  the  sword.    The  princess  replied  in 

rd. 

un  relates  a  circumstance  of  prince  Edward,  which  took  place  be- 
an campaign ;  it  is  an  anecdote  that  oasts  some  light  on  his  cha- 
iwking  one  day  on  a  river,  he  saw  one  of  his  barons  not  attending 
that  had  just  seized  a  duck  among  the  willows.  Prince  Edward 
im  for  his  neglect ;  and  the  noble  tauntingly  replied,  *  it  was  well 
the  river  parted  thera/  Stung  by  the  remark,  the  prince  plunged 
un,  though  ignorant  of  its  depth,  and  having  with  difficulty  reached 
side,  pursued  the  noble  lortl  with  his  drawn  suvord,  who,  seeing 
ess,  turned  round  his  horse,  flung  off  his  cap,  and  advancing  to  Ed* 
himi^elf  on  his  mercy,  and  offered  his  neck  to  the  blow :  this  sub- 
rmed  the  prince ;  he  sheathed  his  sword,  and  rode  home  quietly 
5nder.*'  An  accident  that  happened  to  the  prince,  just  before  the 
sign,  gave  a  devotional  turn  to  his  mind.  One  day,  when  he  was 
less  at  Windsor  with  a  knight,  the  prince  suddenly,  fhom  an  impulse, 
I  game,  without  any  motive  or  decided  purpose  which  he  could  de- 
himself ;  the  next  moment  the  centre  stone  of  the  groined  ceiling 
41  on  the  very  spot  where  he  had  been  sitting.  From  this  accident 
himself  to  be  under  the  •i»ecial  protection  of  Providence,  and  re- 
Mne  great  purpose ;  he  attributed  his  preservation  to  our  lady  of 
.  Why  that  Norfolk  shrine  was  connected  with  his  preservatioD, 
i  does  not  inform  us;  but  from  tliat  time  this  English  lady  of  Loretio 
ith  votaries. 


^ 

I 


■  LEANOkA     OP    CASTILLB. 

words  llwl  well  JMeire  to  be  irmcmbered  and  notrd.  "  Nothing,"  Miil 
this  admirable  lady,  "  ought  w  pMl  ihose  whom  God  haih  jomnt,  ai 
ths  way  lo  lipavrn  ii  a*  nnir,  if  not  nearer,  from  Syria,  a:*  frnm  England 
pr  my  natlre  Spain."' 

Much  has  bern  said  re^anliRg  the  ruujugal  lidetiiy  or  prinnr  Kdwanl.  ' 
Bill  [iKvioualy  lo  his  Symn  canipaign  lie  was  impi'luous  and  wilful  id 
cliarai^lrr,  and  far  from  a  fatililtms  husband.     He  had  inspired  llie  rad  ' 
of  Gluucealer  with  a  mndjralimsy,*  who  nut  only  accused  him  ofrrinnuil  , . 
ioiimary  with  his  connirts,  bat  declared  thai  he,  the  fsH  of  Gloumtn,  I 
had  beet)  [K>ison«d  by  the  agency  of  prince  Edwan],  auid  the  fiuihlcsi  | 
rounless.     It  is  to  be  feared  tliat  the  countess  of  GIoiH-esier  was  a  gnat  i 
eoqiiellc,  for  she  had  previously  bten  exercising  her  powers  of  hsdM- 
nn  the  old  king,  for  in  ihe  Wakefield  Tower  has  recently  been  Ji»- 
'rml  a  »ery  curious  letter  from  Margaret,  queen  of  France,  expiws- 
uncaainoa,  for  her  sbter'B  take,  al  the  hnimacy  between  Henry  HI 
and  this  euunteas*     The  scandal  regarding  prince  Edward's  aueniioo  lo 
the  fiiir  cotinless  had  coinniencoJ  before  iho  reunion  of  Eleanore  wiih 
her  husband,  in  lSO-1 ;  but  its  eflecis  convulsed  the  eourl  with  hroitt, 
tilt  the  princess  left  the  court  and  all  its  iiirmoilB  in  the  spring  of  1270; 
when  she  bade  btewell  lo  the  iwo  lovely  boys  she  never  saw  again, aoJ 
aailcd  for  Bonleaux,  where  she  superintended  the  preparations  for  the 
crusade  campaign.* 

Edward  sailed  from  Portsmouth  about  a  month  later,  and  met  l)i^ 
consort  at  Botdeaux ;  ihey  proceeiled  to  Sicily,  where  they  sojnuTtwI 
during  the  winter,  »viih  the  expectation  tlial  SL  Louis,  ilie  king  of  Fninet. 
rould  unite  in  the  crusade.  Soon  afler  their  arrival,  tidings  wen 
brought  of  the  death  of  St.  Louis,  at  Tunis,  and  the  discomlilure  of  Iw 

The  king  of  Sicily,  who  was  hroiher  lo  St.  I^uis,  and  husband  hi 
Edward's  aunt, endeavoured  to  persuade  his  royal  guests  (ogive  up  d 
crusading  expedition  ;  whereupon  prince  Edwanl  struck  hia  b       "" 
exclaimed  with  energy^ — 

■■  Snngue  de  Dieu,  if  all  should  desert  me,'  I  would  lay  nffe  to  J 
if  only  attended  by  Fowen,  my  groom  !"  *    ^ 

The  following  spring,  Edwanl  and  Eleanora  arrived  at  PuAetuSm 
Tlie  prince  made  an  expedition  as  far  as  Naiareth,'  and  pul  all  the  gar-  ' 
rison  lo  the  sword ;  and  when  the  Saracens  came  U>  their  rescue,  ht 
engaged  the  infidel  army,  and  defeated  ihem  with  great  elanghier.    H* 
won  another  battle,  June  1371,  at  Cahow,  and  thus  terminated  his  fiiM 
an<l  second  campaign.     He  returned  to  Cyprus  for  the  winter,  and,  htjng 
reinforced  by  the  Cypriots,  undetlook  the  siege  of  Acre  the  succeeding    ', 
aumnier,  still  atienilcd  by  his  faithful  Eleanorti. 

TIh*  emir  of  Joppa,  who  was  the  Saracen  admiml,  pretending  that  ba 
was  desirous  of  becoming  a  Christian  convert,  had  sent  a  measengCf 


'  Fonrth  ifpon  of  the  recordi, 
lel'l  Tower. 
'  W.  Butunger  i  likewii 


'  SWWB  C 

lendai  ofthe  lojal  leKr-r* 

'  Manhpw  of  Weaimi 

M.  Put*.  'Knollci'  History  of 


in  theWa*     'I 
UloTBtb.      i 


BLBARORA    OF    CASTILLB.  99 

nee  with  letters  to  the  prince  of  England.  This  envoy  was 
I  BgentB  of  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains,  who  kept  a  band 
murders,  called  Assassins.  Afler  the  cunning  fanatic  had 
confidence  in  Edward's  mind  by  frequent  messages,  he  was 
[  into  the  royal  chamber,  bringing  letters,  for  the  fifth  time, 
rmir.  The  prince  was  indisposed  from  the  heat  of  the  climate, 
y^ing  on  his  bed  bareheaded,  wearing  only  a  white  vest.  The 
tve  him  some  letters  to  read,  written  on  purpose  to  please  the 
prince.  They  were  alone  in  the  apartment,  because  the  nego- 
ached  the  life  and  honour  of  the  admiral  of  Joppa,  therefore 
as  imperatively  needful.  The  assassin  pretended  that  he  had 
iper  to  deliver,  but  he  drew  out  with  it  a  poniard,  and  aimed 
Uie  side  of  the  prince,  as  he  lay  before  him  on  the  bed.  For- 
Sdward  perceived  the  treachery,  and,  suddenly  raising  his  arm, 
he  blow  upon  it  The  assassin  endeavoured  to  reiterate  the 
t  Edward,  who  seems  not  yet  to  have  risen  from  his  recumbent 
tiled  him  to  the  ground,  with  a  kick  on  the  breast :  again  the 
etumed  to  the  attack,  and  the  prince  finally  killed  him,  with  a 
r  stool,  that  stood  by.  The  attendants,  hearing  the  scufiie, 
ling  in,  and  the  prince's  harper,  or  minstrel,  beat  out  the  assas- 
}fl ;  whereat  the  prince  sternly  reproached  him,  asking,  ^  What 
»e  of  striking  a  dead  man  ?'' 

3me  days,  the  prince's  wounded  arm  began  to  show  unfavour- 
ktoms,  and  the  flesh  blackening,  exhibited  si^s  of  mortification ; 
that  all  about  him  began  to  look  heavily  upon  each  other, 
[lisper  ye  thus  among  yourselves  ?"  said  the  prince ;  ^  what  see 
?  Tell  the  truth,  and  fear  not  P'  Then  Hemingfoid  *  declares, 
Ulster  of  the  Temple  recommended  incisions,  which  would  be 
'dy  painful.  ^  If  sufifering,''  said  the  prince  to  the  surgeon, 
to  him  by  the  roaster  of  the  Temple,  ^  may  again  restore  my 
commit  myself  to  you ;  work  on  me  your  will,  and  spare  not" 
n  was  by  his  bedside  at  this  dreadful  crisis :  she  lost  her  firm- 
bewailed,  with  a  passion  of  tears,  the  anguish  about  to  be 
m  her  husband. 

d,  with  his  usual  decision  of  character,  cut  short  the  agony  oi 
by  bidding  his  brother  Edmund,  and  his  fiivourite  knight,  John 
,  carry  the  princess  out  of  the  room.  They  took  her  in  their 
I  bore  her  from  the  apartment,  she  shrieking  and  struggling  all 
till  her  brother-in-law  told  her,  ^  that  it  was  better  she  should 
nd  cry,  than  all  England  mourn  and  lament."' 
iiTical  operation  was  e^ctual ;  in  fifVeen  days  Edward  was  able 
t  his  horse,  though  his  health  was  long  in  a  precarious  state. 
rs  attributed  his  final  recovery  to  the  tender  care  and  attention 
>ra.  But  if  there  had  been  any  truth  in  the  story  of  her  sucking 
»n  from  his  wound,*  the  narrators  of  the  scene,  who  have  en* 

Heraingford^s  Chronicle.  *  Knighton  and  Hemingford. 

>r]r  is  to  be  found  quoted  by  Camden,  but  only  as  recorded  by  Sanotinsi 
biitorimn,  who  lived  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  after  tha  ikfb  cC  Kfi.i% 


9t  BLEANOKA    OF    CASTILLB. 

Ured  into  ita  details  so  luiuulcly,  would  nol  have  fargotten  the  cifcom- 

Wliile  yet  in  ill  health,  prince  Edward  mode  his  will.'  With  t  philo 
iophy  rare  al  this  era,  he  leaves  his  body  lo  be  butled  wherever  ti 

To  his  principal  executor,  his  brolhet-in-Iaw  aiid  fe!low-cnM«d(r, 
John  duke  of  Breiagne,  he  leavos  the  guardianship  of  his  children,  ifba 
should  die  before  ihey  come  of  age.  He  provides  for  the  dowrj-  of  Im 
dear  wife  Eleniion,  but  doea  not  leave  her  either  guudiaii  U>  the  ruin, 
iu  reversion,  or  to  her  children. 

Scarcely  was  the  prince  recovered  from  his  wound,  when  Eleanon 
brought  iuio  tlie  world  an  infant  princess,  named  Joanna,  and  called  bma 
the  plac«  of  her  bittli,  Joanna  of  Acre.' 

I'he  nest  renwrkable  event  that  happened  at  Acre,  while  Elaanati  »■ 
mained  tliere  with  her  royal  Lord,  was,  that  a  pope  was  choeea,  in  ■ 
manner,  out  of  their  household.  Theobald,  archbishop  of  Li«^,  vbo 
attended  the  royal  pair  on  ibeir  crusade,  was  in  his  absence  elected  ts 
the  papal  tliroue,  wliich  lie  ascended  under  the  najne  of  Gngvrj  X> 
This  pontilT  had  been  the  tutor  of  prince  Edward. 

The  army  of  tite  prince  being  reduced  by  sickness,  want,  nnd  dtscf 
tion,  he  considered  that  it  was  useless  lo  tarry  longer  in  Syria.  Lmvibi 
behind  him  a  reputation  nol  inferior  to  that  of  his  great-uncle,  Cwut  tit 
Lion,  Edward  turned  his  buck  post  reluciandy  on  the  Uoly  l^nd;  Mil, 
with  his  princess  and  her  infant  daughter,  arrived  safely  at  Sicily,  whm 
heavy  tidings  awaited  thei 

The  news  first  reached  them  that  prince  John,  their  lovely  and  pn- 
rowing  heir,  whose  talents  were  uneijualled  for  his  years,  luul  i" 
August  1,  187^.  Scarcely  had  the  princess  and  her  husband  rKeivid 
tliis  intelligence,  when  tliey  hfard  of  the  death  of  their  feconJ  • 
prince  Henry;  and  a  third  messenger  brought  the  news  to  Mevsiita,  thai 
king  Henry  Uf.  was  dead,  and  thai  prince  Edward  was  now  Edward  t 
o[  England.  The  firmness  and  resignaiioa,  with  which  Eluuion  ud 
Edward  bore  Uie  loss  of  their  protnising  boya,  surprisetj  every  o 
the  Sicdion  court ;  but  when  the  prince  heard  the  desth  of  hn  loj^ 
aire,  he  gave  way  to  a  burst  of  anguish  so  bitter,  that  hia  uoele'  OimIm 
of  Anjou,  king  of  Sicily,  who  was  in  company  with  him,  osUioished  V 
his  manner  oi  receiving  iutelligence  tliat  bailed  hiiu  king,  asked  him 
>'how  it  was  Uiat  he  bore  the  loss  of  both  his  sons  with  such  qnO 

end  wbo  iiitriHluPeil  ii  iu  a  commt'iit  lie  wroie  on  ilie  woiki  of  Roiltiri)^  TulfUL 
Tliii  aiiihoi  due*  not  Wai  iho  wt'inlii  nt  WbImi  Hominglbnl,  wlio  ainiiiHr 
Kleanorn,  Inil  does  iioi  alluile  lo  Ibis  c^vanl. 

'Sir  Harrii  Ificolaa.     TesUnienia  Vnuala,     Etlwird  ten  do  other  wilt. 

*Thi*  princeu  ii  t)ie  flrsi  inmnoeof  a  minlliuwe  In  lliti  rojral  houcaof  Pta» 
Alter  die  daaili  of  bei  Am  huibnmli  alie  iiols  ■  mateli  h  '  ' 


iiprs,  Ralph  Mautliermer,  catled  by  •oine  « 


Joanna  u 


a  1306.  furtitven  by  liar  iliiliet,  c 


rs  bis  gmoai,  but  he  ww  is  J 


nediaiot  in  this  reconnjlialioa. 


*X1m  bartand  nC  l^  nadtu'asMiw. 


■  IiBAXOBA    OF    CASTILLfe.  85 

ipiation,  and  abandoned  himself  to  grief  at  the  death  of  an  aged 
n  ?''  *     Edward  made  this  memorable  answer  :— 
*  The  loss  of  infants  may  be  repaired  by  Uie  same  God  that  gave 
m ;  but  when  a  man  has  lost  a  good  father,  it  is  not  in  the  course  of 
mre  for  God  to  send  him  another." 

From  Sicily  queen  Eleanora  accompanied  her  royal  husband  to  Rome, 
lere  they  were  welcomed  and  magnificently  entertained  by  their  friend, 
M  Gregory  X. 

England,  happy  in  the  permanent  setdement  of  her  ancient  representa«' 
B  government,  now,  for  the  first  time,  practically  established  since  the 
p  of  Sl  Edward,  enioyed  such  profound  tranquillity,  that  her  youn^ 
ig  and  queen  were  able  to  remain  more  than  a  year,  in  their  conti- 
ital  dominions.  During  this  time  the  queen  gave  birth,  at  the  town 
Maine,  to  another  heir,'  more  beautiful  and  promising  than  either  of 
deceased  brethren.  The  queen  named  him  after  her  beloved  brother 
ihoDso ;  a  name  which  sounds  strangely  to  English  ears,  but  had  this 
nee  lived  to  wear  the  crown  of  his  great  father,  it  would,  in  all 
liability,  have  become  as  national  to  England  as  the  names  of  Edward 
George.* 

K  second  time,  at  this  juncture,  the  life  of  Edward  was  preserved,  in 
Mumer  that  he  considered  almost  miraculous.  As  he  was  sitting  with 
queen  on  a  couch,  in  their  palace  at  Bordeaux,  a  flash  of  lightning 
ed  two  lords  who  were  standing  directly  behind  them,  without  in- 
ing  the  royal  pair.* 

ulward,  with  his  queen,  made  a  progress  homeward  through  all  his 
nch  provinces,  tilting  at  tournaments  as  he  went  Passing  through 
ii,  he  did  homage  to  the  king  of  France,  for  Aquitaine  and  its  depen- 
cies,  before  he  returned  to  assume  the  English  crown.'  The  king 
I  queen  landed  at  Dover,  August  2,  1273.  Ail  preparations  had  been 
de  for  their  speedy  coronation,  which  took  place  on  the  iOth  of  the 
le  month.  They  were  received  in  London  with  the  utmost  exulta- 
I.  The  merchants,  enriched  by  peaceful  commerce  with  the  rich 
le  provinces  of  the  south,  showered  gold  and  silver  on  the  royal 
iane,  as  they  passed  under  the  windows  of  the  Chepe.'    Both  houses 

Suirlef  was  not  likely  to  be  troubled  with  much  Bensibility,  for  while  St. 
us  waj  bitterly  weeping  for  the  death  of  their  mutual  brother,  the  count  of 
ton,  slain  io  their  crusade,  Charles,  who  was  on  ship-board,  amused  himself 
k  playing  at  tric-trao  all  day  long.     When  the  king  of  France  was  informed 
this  hard-hearted  way  of  spending  the  hours  of  mourning,  he  came  softly 
ind  his  brother  in  the  heat  of  his  game,  and  seizing  his  backgammon-board, 
sw  men,  dice,  and  money,  into  the  sea.     The  humour  with  which  the  Lord 
loinville  (who  saw  the  incident)  relates  tliis  anecdote  is  irresistible. 
Pkalus  Emilius.     He  was  bom  Nov.  S3,  1272. 
Alphonso  is  an  abbreviation  of  Ildelbnso,  a  native  Iberian  saint. 
Matthew  Paris.  *  Walsingham  and  Wikes. 

Edward  brought  in  his  train,  Guasco,  a  rebel  Gascon  baron,  whom  he  had 
demned  to  death,  but  his  punishment  seems  to  have  been  commuted  by  his 
Bg  exhibited,  at  the  London  entry,  with  a  rope  about  his  neck.  The  poor 
live  expected  nothing  but  death.  He  was  forgiven  the  capital  part  of  his 
•Qce.  by  the  act  of  indemnity  at  the  ooionation.  He  returned  thanks  to  Edward 


I 


BLBAKORA     OP    CASTILLB. 

1  aMrmblfKl,  In  wpkome  and  do  honour  to  th«ir 
nd  lib  virluoiis  convoiL 

I  of  EdiranJ  and  EleaDora  proparatinns  wctv  madp  tor 
of  the  motl  proruM  honpiulJiy ;  (he  whole  areu  of  ite 
Palaeu  Yards,  old  and  new,  were  filled  with  wnodra  bnildine^'  open  it 
the  lop,  lo  let  out  ihe  imokc  of  cooking.  Here,  for  a  whole  foruii^t, 
wrm  prepured  BUceM8ion8  of  banquets,  iivrTpil  ap  for  ilie  entertainmeat 
of  nil  comers;  where  the  itidependrnt  franklin,  the  stout  yeoman  fiom 
lh<^  country,  nnd  the  rich  citizen  and  indnatrious  ariizan  fimn  the  raetto- 
polis,  alike  found  a  welcome,  and  were  entertained  graluilously.  Good 
order  w&b  general,  and  every  one  delighted  with  this  auspicious  cfNB- 
mcncemenl  of  the  new  rci^n.  Edward  and  Eleanors  were  crowned  by 
the  hnnilB  of  Robert  Kilwnrdby.  archbishop  of  Cameibury.  One  of  th* 
ino«I  extraordinary  features  of  this  coronation  is  recorded  in  so  old 
black -letter  manuscript  chronicle.' 

"  King  Edward  was  crowned  and  anointed  as  right  heir  of  En^Iudl, 
with  much  honour  and  worship,  with  his  virtuous  queeu;  and  afler 
maxs  the  king  went  to  his  palace  to  hold  a  royal  feast  among  all  ibe 
peers  that  hnd  done  him  honour  and  worship.  And  when  he  was  set  it 
Iiis  meal  king  Alexander  of  Scollnnd  came  to  do  htm  serrire,  and  l» 
Worship  with  a  ^enlysr,'  and  n  hundred  knights  with  him,  horiied  and 
tmyed.  And  wheit  ihev  were  lijjhl  US' their  horses,  Ihcy  let  their  horm 
go  whither  they  woulcf,  and  they  that  could  catch  them  had  them  to 
their  own  behoof  And  afier  that  came  sir  Edmund,  the  kind's  brother, 
a  courteous  knight  and  a  gentleman  of  renown,  and  the  earl  of  Glnuces- 
ter.  And  after  them  came  the  earl  of  Pembroke  and  the  ear!  of  Watiw, 
and  each  of  them  led  a  horse  by  their  hand,  and  a  hundred  of  their 
knights  did  the  same.  And  when  they  were  alight  off  their  hotaca  they 
let  there  go  wherever  they  would,  and  they  that  could  take  them  hu 
iheLn  still  at  their  liking." 

The  coronation  of  Edward  and  Eleanora  had  been  graced  by  the  pr^ 
tenco  of  the  king  of  Scotland  and  the  duke  of  Bretagne;  bnt  Llewrllya, 
prince  of  Wales,  absented  himself;  upon  which  the  king  of  England  sini 
him  a  sharp  message,  '■  to  know  wherefore  he  did  not  tender  homage  al 
the  late  coro:ialion  of  himself  and  queen .'"  Llewellyn  relused  lo  ackoov- 
ledge  thai  any  homage  was  due;  he  was  a  viclotiuus  prince,  for,  lakinf 
advantage  of  Uie  recent  civil  wars  in  England,  he  had  reconqucrml  all  tht 
territory,  which  the  Norman  predecessors  of  Edward  1.  had  wrested  fran 
the  Welsh. 

The  first  mischance  that  befel  the  Welsh  was  the  capture  of  the  bride 
of  Llewellyn,'  coming  from  France;  her  vessel  was  seieed  by  the  Bnslul 
merchantmen,  who  carried  her  prisoner  to  king  Edward.  This  prince 
had  not  yet  lesmed  lo  behave  with  cruelly  to  women.     The  young 

on  his  1tne«.     This  mnsl  have  ni«flo  s  mem  sinking  fraluro  of  thai  jmnotii* 
ememaajr.     Ouisni  wiu  altprward*  a  lojml  IViPod  and  nibjecl  M  EdwmnL 

'  Ancient  Chronicle,  qiioied  by  Oine.  ■  PreMrrsd  by  Sii  Rob«n  Coww. 

*A  tjuaint  derise,  Di  in^nioai  InTsiitkin. 

'  WalBntfwBi  and  fawaUa  W«l»h  ChwaJBla^  — 


J 


GLKA.tODA    OF     CASTlLtB.  97 

L  though  UiP  daughter  of  Simon  ile  Muntfort,  hit  mortal  Toe,  whom 
he  had  slain  in  baulc,  was  ul  ihe  same  time  the  chtlil  of  lus  aunt,  Eleanor 
Plsntagciiet  He  received  her  with  the  courtesy  of  a  kineniaii,  and  con- 
cisned  her  to  the  geuile  keeping  of  his  queen,  with  whom  she  resided  at 
Wmdaor  Castle.' 

The  war  with  Wales  lasted  till  1278,  when  Llewellyn,  finding  it  im- 
poaeible  to  recover  his  bride  by  foice  of  arms,  submitted  to  the  required 
iKanage,  and  queen  Eleanora  brought  the  lady  Elinor  MontTort  to  Worces- 
ur,  wnen  king  Edward  bestowed  hia  kinswoman  upon  Llewellyn,  giving 
bcr  away  with  his  own  royal  hand,  while  his  amiable  queen  supportoij 
her  at  the  altar  of  Worwtster  cathedral,  and  graced  the  nuptial  feast  of 
prince  Llewellyn  with  her  presence.  The  prince  and  princess  of  Wales 
ifierwards  accompanied  the  king  and  queen  to  Westminster,*  with  a 
gmt  retinue  of  malcontent  Snowdon  barons,  and  their  vaasala. 

\l\er  this  pacification,  the  death  of  the  queen  of  Castille  caused  tlic 

Enncea  of  Ponthieu  and  Aumerle  (o  devolve  on  her  daughter,  queen 
uiora,  who  quilted  England  with  king  Edward,  in  order  to  take  po»- 
Ktaiun  of  her  inheritance,  and  do  homage  to  Ihe  king  of  France.  The 
iTiurn  of  the  royal  pair  was  hastened  by  another  Welah  war;  for  the 
&ir  bride  of  Llewellyn  died,  after  bringing  hira  a  living  daughter,"  and 
ilx^  prince,  urged  by  die  songs  of  the  bards,  and  the  indignation  of  hia 
(ubjerts  regsr^ing  bia  homage,  suddealy  invaded  Engluid.  The  ainbi- 
Tuous  words  of  a  prophecy  of  Merlin,  asserting  tlist  a  prince  bom  in 
^'<-s  should  be  the  acknowledged  king  of  the  whole  British  island, 
-  ihe  stimulus  that  led  to  a  war,  terminating  in  the  death  of  the  brave 

1  he  gold  coronet  of  the  unfortunate  prince,  taken  from  hia  head  by 

-lill'i  Cu^ogua  of  Honour.      Wikes. 

I    "  prinpc  of  Walei  did  homage  in  Westminiler  Ball.     According  lo  an 

■  ^T'^    rrnmlaied  hy  Carle,  in  liia  Hialory,  ihe  Snowdon  barons  who  aeoom- 

!!:.■;!  10  England  with  iheir  serfs,  were  quBTtered  ai  Islinpoii,  whore 

.  Ii.nB  but  eonifortable.  taking  ftcnl  offence  bi  the  fare  provided  fot 

uld  neither  drink  the  wine  nor  the  ile  of  London;  mead  and 

I  111  Dot  ba  gol  Tor  ibem  ;  ihe  Engliih  bread  Ihef  tefiusd  lo  cot,  sod 

I    riJirii  I'ould  not  aflbtd  milk  enough  for  their  dailj  diet.    Tbej  were  indig- 

~  ul  ih*  itaring  of  ihe  Loadoners,  when  they  walKed  in  iLs  tireeis  iu  their 

'ridirt  garb,  and  even  liupocted  thnl  ifae  Engliih  look  Ihein  for  savagei. 

.    ciimI  they  in  chorus,  "we  will  never  Bgain  visit  Islington,  excepting  u 

;^irmn.''    Dioll  as  the  auocialion  of  ideal  may  be  between  the  Welsh  bard* 

liIiDgion.  ihe  name  of  that  bBrmleaa  suburb  was  the  eonstanl  refrain  of  Ihs 

'!i  !ai<l(  till  Eilwnid  silenced  Ibem  in  death.     Aa  all  the  popular  agilalions 

■  raiM^d  by  the  bardi,  who  were  pei&ctly  frantic  concerning  llio  prophecjea 

^Iciiln  al  tlii*  crisis,  Iheir  eilirpanou  by  Edward  IS  a  very  probable  ciicum 

T'.  llioiigh  oonlesied  by  hiiloiisns. 
)  :.ii  Bhild.  whose  name  was  Guendolen,  was  brought  lo  Edward  a  capdve  in 
raMi:  aba  was  tearvd,  and  professed  a  nun  in  ilie  convootof  Sempringluim, 
'<  &F(  eoiHta  Oladii.  the  only  daughter  of  prince  David,  brother  lo  Lewollyn, 
»i>ii  iMinoe  was  eieeuted  by  Edward.  Thus  ended  Ihe  line  of  Roderick  Iha 
.'  (biw. — Pirn  iMmgtafl.    Pieii  roentioos  hi*  personal  aeguainlam*  wilh  thcM 


rou  tl. — 9 


I 


BLE 


r  ASTIttB. 


loitl  Mortimer,  afl^r  the  ftial  skirmish  at  Biiihh,  was  offered  by  princr 
Alphoneo,  at  the  shrine  of  EilwarJ  the  confessor. 

The  un^eiiled  slalr  of  Wales  necdnl  the  constant  proence  of  Itiag 
Blurani,  to  keep  down  the  spirit  of  the  people;  and  quem  Ehonoci, 
wild  had  followed  him  in  all  his  Welsh  campaigns,  kepi  (mt  Mxm  ■ 
Rhuddtan  castle,  in  the  summer  of  1383.  Here  h«T  eixm  daH^irr.  the 
princess  Isabella,  was  born  a  natWe  of  Wales.' 

Early  in  spring,  12S*,  Edward  carried  his  qneen  to  his  newly-bmll 
castle  of  Caernarvon,  a  stronghold  he  had  just  finished,  tn  awe  the  mmi- 
gents  of  the  principality.  This  truly  royal  fortress,  according  lo  Iht 
antiquary  Pennant,  appears  at  present^  in  its  external  rtalff,  precisely  B 
when  ([ueen  Elcanora  first  entered  ihe  stupendous  gBte«»ay  so  many  ciB- 
luries  ago.  The  walls  are  studdetl  by  defeneive  round  lowere;  ihw 
have  two  principal  gales,  the  east  feeing  the  Snowdon  mountain*,  itw 
west  commanding  the  Menai.  The  entrance  to  the  <-«stle  is  Terr  aistriv: 
lienealh  a  noble  lower,  on  the  front  of  which  appears  the  siaitie  of  ijit 
great  Edward,'  finely  carved  from  the  life,  drawing  a  dagger  with  a  aUta 
air,  as  if  menacing  his  unwilling  subjects.  This  eniranco  hotl  four  port- 
cullises, and  every  requisite  of  strength. 

To  ibis  mighty  castle,  Edward  brought  Eleanora,  «  a  time  when  ha 
situation  promised  an  increase  to  the  royal  family.  Tht  Eafte  Toww, 
through  whose  gate  the  aDectionate  Eleanora  entered,  is  at  k  prodigion 
height  from  the  ground,  at  the  farthest  end,  and  could  only  be  approurM 
by  a  drawbridge,  supported  on  masses  of  opposing  rock.  Every  ooe 
who  beholds  it  is  struck  with  Its  grand  position  :  it  is  vtill,  by  the  to- 
dilion  of  the  district,  called  queen  Eleanor's  gate;  &or  was  the  b^ 
Tower  an  eyry  by  any  means  too  lofiy,  for  the  semrity  of  the  n^al 
Eleanora  and  her  expected  infant,  since  most  of  the  Snowdan  buOM 
still  held  out,  and  the  rest  of  the  principaliiy  was  fiercely  chalEng  at  Ac 
English  curb.  This  consideration  jusiilie^  ihe  tradition  vrhKh  pnou 
out  a  little  dark  den,  built  in  the  ihickneas  of  the  walla,  as  itie  chtiobcT 
where  the  faithful  queen  gave  binh  lo  her  son  Edward.  Th*  dunbet 
ia  twelve  feel  in  length,  and  eight  in  breadth,  and  is  wtlboul  a  ftrcplaci. 
lis  discomforts  were  somewhat  modified  by  liansinn  of  upartiy,  li 
which  some  marks  of  tenters  elill  appear  in  the  walle.  Qoaeii  Elt«Mn 
was  the  firet  person  who  nsed  tapestry  as  gamiture  for  walla,  in  £a^ 
land ;  and  she  never  needed  it  more  than  in  her  dreary  lying^-cliaabR 
at  Caernarrou.* 


■  kii  noble  portrait,  engraved  by  Terta«  !n  Cntw,  ii  taken  Ihnn  this  tBMa. 

*li  was  the  iirimitiTe  office  or  the  groonis  or  the  cbsmber  to  hB.ag  nf>  ibrafr* 
try.  wliieli  wis  alwnyi  curried  in  progrca  wiih  the  rojral  tngptgc^  and  mm  Ik- 
wiirdt  with  the  puiveyoi  And  gnwmi  of  tfae  chamber,  M  thai  dM  fjoan  *■! 
llie  none  walls  or  her  sleeping  <Tbam)ier  in  eomfottabl*  order  ftn  ' 

*  Among  ths  mcmoiialt  oT  ({Ucen  Elranota't  scjauTn  at  Cacman 
Civile  or  her  inftnt  son  i*  still  ibown.  It  ii  hung  by  lingi  aail  aapka  la  M* 
npriglit  pioett  of  wt«d,  like  a  a*;  ii  it  nf  nid«  wtirkmanahip,  fm  wilk  WA 
ptrtenre  to  amammt,  having  tnany  nioulcling!^  thoagfa  Iha  natto  an  tttt  M^( 
it  it  mv\e  of  oaii,  and  i*  in  lenglli  Ibree  leei  iwo  iochet,  iii  width  nwftM^II 
ioollnvt  the  head.  amdoiaafoK  best  the  Gmt  1l  hai  mrtnf  n 


BLBA?rORA    OF    CASTILLB.  99 

The  prince  was  bom  April  25th,  when  fires  were  not  indispensable 
in  a  small,  close  chamber.  As  a  soldier's  wife,  nsed  to  attend  her  lord 
in  all  campaigns,  from  Syria  to  Scotland,  the  queen  had,  in  all  proba- 
biKty,  met  with  hr  worse  accommodations,  than  in  the  forlorn  chamber 
in  the  Eagle  Tower.  The  queen  certainly  provided  a  Welsh  nurse  for 
her  infant :'  she  thus  proved  her  usual  good  sense,  by  complying  with 
the  prejudices  of  the  country. 

Edward  1.  was  at  Rhuddlan  castle,  negotiating  with  the  despairing 
magnates  of  Wales,  when  news  was  brought  him,  by  GrifHth  Lloyd,  a 
Welsh  gentleman,  that  the  queen  had  made  him  father  of  a  living  son 
of  surpassing  beauty.  The  king  was  transported  with  joy ;  he  knighted 
the  Welshman  on  the  spot,  and  made  him  a  magnificent  donation  of 

iHlds.' 

The  king  hastened  directly  to  Caernarvon,  to  see  his  Eleanora  and 
bar  boy ;  and  three  days  af\er,  the  castle  was  the  rendezvous  of  all  the 
chiefs  of  North  Wales,  who  met  to  tender  their  final  submission  to 
Edward  I.,  and  to  implore  him,  as  their  lord  paramount,  to  appoint  them 
a  prince  who  was  a  native  of  their  own  country,  and  whose  native 
tongue  was  neither  French  nor  Saxon,  which  they  assured  him  they 
eoidd  not  nnderstand.* 

Edward  told  them  he  would  immediately  appoint  them  a  prince,  who 
eould  speak  neither  English  nor  French.  The  Welsh  magnates,  expect- 
ing he  was  a  kinsman  of  their  own  royal  line,  declared  they  would  in- 
Mnitly  accept  him  as  their  prince,  if  his  character  was  void  of  reproach ; 
whereupon  the  king  ordered  his  infant  son  to  be  brought  in  and  pre- 
Moted  to  them,  assuring  the  assembly,  ^  that  he  was  just  bom  a  native 
of  their  countiy,  that  his  character  was  unimpeached,  that  he  could  not 
■peak  a  word  of  English  or  French,  and  that,  if  they  pleased,  the  first 
words  he  uttered  should  be  Welsh.''  The  fierce  mountaineers  little 
expected  such  a  ruler :  they  had,  however,  no  alternative  but  submis- 
■OB,  and,  with  as  good  a  grace  as  they  might,  kissed  the  tiny  hand 
which  was  to  sway  their  sceptre,  and  vowed  feal^  to  the  babe  of  the 
faithful  Eleanora.* 

The  queen  soon  changed  her  residence  to  her  magnificent  palace  of 
Oonway  CSutle,  where  all  the  elegances  of  an  age  further  advanced  in 
lunry  than  is  generally  supposed,  were  assembled  round  her.  Many 
Inces  of  her  abode  at  Conway  exist;  among  others,  her  state  bed- 
ehamber  retains  some  richness  of  ornament ;  it  opens  on  a  terrace  com- 
manding a  beautiful  view.  Leading  from  the  chamber  is  an  arched 
called  by  tradition  queen  Eleanora's  Oriel ;  it  is  raised  by  steps 


kf  two  birds ;  whether  dovei  or  eaglet  antiqnaries  have  not  jet  decided. — Bo^^ 
MiTf  AHiiquitim, 

'There  ii  an  entry  in  the  household-book  of  Edward  II.  of  twenty  shillings, 
wbicb  the  king  presented  to  Mary  of  Caernarvon,  his  nurse,  for  ooming  all  the 
way  from  Wales  to  see  him. 

*  Fnuiant's  Wales.  "  Speed. 

■  *8tow  miaulely  details  this  incident,  the  authenticity  of  which  is  not  only 
■ipported  by  the  local  traditions  of  North  Wales,  but  by  the  giant  authoriw-  of 
IsMen. 


I 


I 


I 


|00  BLEANORA    OF    CASTILLE. 

from  the  Soot,  and  beautiCulty  aJonied  with  painled  glua  winilon 
Here  Ihe  queen  of  Cnglsnd,  iluriug  her  kvre  or  risiag,  sat  lo  receive  tbi 
ladies  qualilieil  la  be  preeeDted  to  her,  wliile  her  tirewoman  ccmbt^l  uA 
bntided  those  long  treeses,'  wliich  are  the  glory  of  a  Spanuh  doiina,tiid 
which  her  riatues  shaw  Eleanors  o(  Cusiille  to  have  poaaeMetl.  A  poaoi 
couleiuporary  with  this  queen,  minutely  describe  these  sl«te  toikt 
places.' 

"In  h^r  oriel  there  sbe  was,  |       Filleil  it  wu  wiih  iniRgerir, 

Closed  well  wilh  royal  gliui;       |       Every  window  liy  and  bf." 

The  August  Tollowing  the  birth  of  prince  Ednuil,  saw  the  death  of 
prince  Aiphonso.  llie  heir  of  England— «n  event  which  deeply  alRiM^ 
his  mollier.  The  same  year  brought  calamity  lo  her  brother,  king  Ai- 
phonso X.  of  Caalille.'  This  great  prince  was  the  most  eslraordiiiu; 
person  of  hia  time,  but  wrapping  himself  up  in  his  malhemaiical  stadiMi 
in  the  latter  part  of  his  reign,  his  son,  Sancho  the  Bmve,  deposed  him. 
This  cvenl  was  a  source  of  great  grief  to  Elennora,  for  her  royal  broilia 
was  tenderly  beloved  by  her;  she  had  named  her  favourite  child *Aa 
him,  and  now,  in  his  reverse  of  fortune,  she  urged  her  royal  totd  U 
interfere  wilh  her  nephew  Saucho,'  for  the  restoration  of  her  brodm. 
The  interposition  was  in  vain,  for  the  learned  Alphouso  died  in  coute- 

The  death  of  king  Alexander  of  Scotland,  in  1385,  openei)  a  nr« 
prospect  for  still  funlier  aggmndizing  the  progeny  of  queen  Eleaoca 
The  heiress  of  Scotland,  ilie  princess  MargBrei  of  Norway,  greal-DiMi 
to  Edward  1.,  was,  by  ibe  consent  of  the  uoblea  of  Scotland,  uAeaaif 
belroilied  lo  Edward  of  Caernarvon,  prince  of  Wales,  and  erery  proapHt 
appeared  thai  ihe  island  crowns  would  be  happily  united,  in  the  penoM 
of  Ihe  infant  son  of  Eleanoia,  and  the  little  queen  of  Scotland.  Ate 
this  pacilicBlion  of  ihe  whole  island,  the  king  and  queen  resided  (hit* 
years  in  Aquilaine.  Deanora  then  gave  birth  to  her  seventh  and  eigUI 
daughters,  the  princesses  Beatrice  and  Berengaria. 

When  the  queen  returned  to  England,  she  was  urged  lo  devote  h« 
fourth  daughter,  the  princess  Mary,  to  the  cloister.  Her  relucianc*  *» 
relinquish  this  child  is  noted  by  most  chroniclers,  and  produced  mm 
ttinn  one  pathetic  epistle  from  dignitaries  of  the  church,  on  the  iraptv- 

'  Tliia  L*u3l»in,  derived  [tola  Ihe  middle  AfiFs,  wsa  coDtinued  io  Finiiue  ItU  ikt 
revolution.    The  word  lev^,  slill  used  at  our  court,  i>  derived  l'ii>tn  it. 

'This  kinfc,  ■nrnuned  B  Sabio,  «niployed  ihe  moal  Ipamnl  men,  not  ndf  t* 
TopeuiB.  Iiut  Arab*  and  Jews,  lo  auisi  liim  in  conilracdne  the  aetebrui>.<l  AlpljKr. 
line  Talitet,  mi  long  the  itandud  or  uirouomical  olciilBIianL  bIj 
KJino  glimpici  of  the  lighl  afterwnrJa  ea»l  on  toieneo,  by  Gnlil- . 
Newlon,     Alphonao  paid  hi4  leanted  BHisuuits  Ibny  thouiand  '  - 
•crvices,  ■  beucraclioti  JnQtiJlely  roenied   by  hi*  combBiivo  soI.n 
their  itionnmb  and  hi*  ssironomers  lor  conjurors,  und  ware  rarniiui... 
should   bestow   ireaiurB  on   nuy  peacerul   proression. — Se<?  jIlUa  Gafiofkf* 
Alpboau  puoued  bi<  studiei  in  quiel  when  impriioiied,  conioling  huaiel/tf 
wuMideiing  thai  liia  lubjeuti  were  fiiola. 

'  if Boy  papers  on  Otis  su^qect  a9f««>i  m  dte  Focdera.  ^Tj 


ELEAKOKA    OF      CASTtLLB.  lOj^ 

pnM;^  of  witlkbniding  from  heaven  a  choKeii  lamb,  from  her  nutneroua 
nuck.'  Among  the  other  odiniraljle  qunlities  of  Eleanora,  we  find  fre»-, 
dotu  from  die  prejudices  af  her  eta.  She  kept  a  happ}'  meilium  beiweea 
im  bulil  infiilelity  of  her  philosophic  brother  Alphonso,  the  mathein^ 
Ucitn,'  anil  the  superfluous  deroiion  of  the  middle  agea.  The  princeac 
\\uy  Maa.  however,  veiled,  at  the  age  of  ten  years,  al  Ambresbury,  I28S. 
Thi'  year  after  her  profession  the  queen  added  a  ninth  daughter,  the 

»puiceu  Blanche,  to  her  family. 
Elnnoim  reared  and  educateil  her  numerous  train  of  beautiful  prin- 
OUcs,  in  a  Retired  angle  of  Westminster  Palace,  which  was  given,  oa 
Mtonui  of  their  residence  there,  the  appellBtion  of  the  Maiden  Mall.' 

Time  of  ihe  queen's  elder  daughters  were  married,  or  betrothed  in 
IWO.  The  princeas-royal,  Eleanora,  was  affianced  to  Alphonso,  princiy 
of  Amijfon  :  this  prince  died  soon  after,  when  she  married  llie  duke  of 
Bur.  The  next  sister,  Joanna  of  Acre,  in  her  eighteenth  year,  renownea 
fiir  hrr  beauty  and  high  spirit,  was  married,  with  great  pomp,  at  ihtr 
niunaiieiy  of  the  Knigfata  of  St.  John,  Clerkenwell,  to  the  premier  poor' 
'^  England,  Gilbert  the  Red,  earl  of  Gloucester.  A  few  weeks  latw. 
^ca  Eleanora  assisted  at  a  still  statelier  ceremony,  when  her  tbin^ 
uhter,  Margaret,  then  ttf^een,  wedded,  al  Westminster  Abbey,  JohOb 
I^Kcund  duke  of  Brabant.' 

IF  liislorians  dwell  much  on  the  magnificence  displayed  at  the  ruj^ 
■  of  these  princesses.  A  list  of  the  plate  used  in  the  queen's  housfr- 
1l  will  prove  that  the  court  of  Eleanom  hail  attained  a  considerabia 
«  of  luiury.  The  plate  was  the  woik  of  Ade.  the  king's  goldsmitl^ 
Bthf  description  of  the  rich  vessels  furnished  by  this  member  of  the 
'  ' '»  company  has  been  brought  lo  light  by  modem  research.* 
r  pitchers  of  gold  and  silver,  calculated  to  hold  water  or  wine; 
in  gild  chalices,  of  the  value  of  £140  to  £293  each ;  ten  cups  of  sQv«r 
' ,  or  silver  white,  some  with  stands  of  the  same,  or  enamelled ;  more^ 
B  one  hundred  smaller  aHvet  cups,  value  from  four  lo  one  hundred 
d  eighteen  pounds  each ;  also  cufie  of  Jasper,  plates  and  dishes  of 
r,  gold  salts,  alms  bowLs,  sdver  hanapers  or  baskets ;  cups  of  beni- 
I  viih  holy  sentences   wrought   thereon ;   enamelled  silver  ju^ 


'Tfa«e  ve  umiiinerable  grsnu  recorded  in  the  Fisclera  to  tbe  nDn-prinoSM; 
Hn  Ihihpt  gnnts  the  Itireal  ot  SaTeinBks  and  other  woodlands,  Tor  Ore  Ibr  bar 
tli«!nb«[;  ihe  port  of  Souihfljnpion  ii  taxed  Tor  tuns  of  wine  foi  her  0«ltar, 
Wnin  oil  lilt  her  lamp. 
'Aipboou  1*  Hid  ID  hare  deolated,  » thai  ho  coald  b«T»  deviBod  a  belter  w» 
tif  uniaiii'g  Uia  moements  or  llia  oelesdal  bodieB;"  which  speech  led  le  hi( 
•trfiMJtiDa.  Tbe  fact  ii,  he  was  not  satisfied  with  his  own  astKraomical  tables, 
tod  lunww  aulMeqiiem  iinptoTemepis. 

'Sntirj't  and  Bniton'i  Palace  o(  WesimiDiler,  lU.     Thin  portion  of  the  old. 
|«teea  WM  deaiioircd  by  tlte,  a  Utile  lime  after  lbs  queou'i  death. 

'Tti*  rounf  dairheis  did  not  iaioiedialelr  quit  EngJaiuI.  bat  bad  a  Mpaiala. 
TiMhllihinnni  •<  appears  I17  the  following  entry  in  Edward  IL's  household 
tooks :  ~  PaiJ  lto!>eit  de  Ludhnin  tliirleen  shillii^s  and  siiponce,  who  was  ponai 
ta  the  Idne's  diiHglitei,  ibe  tacly  Maigarpt,  duchesi  of  Brabant,  whsa  >he  nwia- 
^tiwd  ■  bouMibold  differcal  ftom  the  king'i  ion," 
*%^llt<ii«cb«(H«i9libti^iiaa,  in  his  UiiloiT  trf' Citjr  ConpaMiM,  >- 


102 


ELEATtORA    OF    CASTILLE 


ailomed  with  eRigieii  oT  the  king,  in  a  siircoal  snil  hood,  nai 
edigies  of  qneen  Eleanora.  It  is  generally  suppose)  ihal  Toi 
of  qneer  memory,  introduced  ihe  use  of  foiks  from  Italy,  I 
the  time  of  James  I.  But  our  Provengal  Plaiitagenet  qooL 
feed  with  iheir  lingers,  whatever  their  English  subjects  might 
in  the  list  of  Eleanora's  plate  occurs  a  pair  of  knives  with  sih 
naoielled,  wiili  a  fork  of  crystal,  and  a  silver  fork,'  handled  % 
and  ivory.  In  the  list  of  royal  valuables  were  likewise  I 
looking-glasses  of  silver-gilt,  and  a  bodkin  of  silTer,  in  a  1m 
five  serpents'  tongues  set  in  n  standitrd  of  silver ;  a  royal  ci 
rubies,  emeralds,  and  great  pearls;  another  with  Indian  pearl* 
great  crown  of  gold,  ornanienled  with  ememlda,  sapphires  d 
rubies,  and  lai^  oriental  peurlc.  This  seems  to  have  been  : 
state  crown,  used  at  the  coronation  feasL  Above  all,  thei 
ring  with  a  great  sapphire,  wrought  and  set  by  no  other  1 
of  Si.  Dun  Stan. 

The  countess  of  Gloucester  brought  forth  a  beautjfiil  I 
spring  of  1291,  lo  the  ingnite  joy  and  plessure  of  her  roolli 
the  king  and  queen  Eleanora  welcomed  this  first  grand-chi]| 
light,  and  called  hit  name  Gilbert. 

The  autumn  of  the  year  1290  brought  threelening  clouds  U 
perily  of  the  island  kingdoms,  and  to  the  royal  family  of  q^^ 
nora.  The  little  queen.  Margaret  of  Scotland,  was  lo  be  s> 
from  Norway  to  Scotland,  and  thence,  by  agreement,  to  t 
England,  that  she  might  be  educated  under  the  care  of  ths 
igueen  of  Edward  I.  The  bishop  of  St,  Andrews  wrote  to  k' 
that  a  report  was  spread  of  the  young  queen's  death  *  on  be 
voyage.  Edward,  who  had  already  sent  the  bishop  of  Durhai 
regents,  to  take  possession  of  Scotland,*  in  [he  names  of  f 
Caernarvon,  and  Margaret  of  Norway,  was  startled  into  pro 
at  these  alarming  tidings.  He  took  a  hasty  farewell  oif  I 
queen,  and  chared  her  to  follow  him  with  all  convenient  «pi 

Edward  had  not  reached  the  Scottish  borders,  when  the 
reached  him  that  Eleanom,  the  faithful  com)>aQian  of  his  lif^ 
ling  through  Lincolnshire,  to  join  him,  previously  lo  his  e: 
land,  had  been  seized  with  a  dangerous  autumnal  fever,  U  E 
Grantham. 

Ambition,  at  the  strong  call  of  conjugal  love,  for  once  i 
giusp  on  the  mighty  heart  of  Edward.  In  comparison  witli 
dead  ot  dying,  the  coveted  crown  of  Scotland  was  nothing  i 

■See  likow>»  Record  Commisiion,  p.  TB,  where  fiirks  bts 
Ihe  items  of  Edward  L'l  domcBlic  atmiilB. 

■  S^lie  died  at  the  Orkney!,  il  ii  rappoaaJ  ot  tlie  faligoe  of 
Kgn,  being  driven  to  ihoie  ialands  bjr  violent  wesitaer,  Oclobar  tWOL' 
niigbam.     Her  death  wb>  Ibe  grcateit  nalional  calamilf  ihM  stc 
An  elegant  female  poet,  Mis*  Uolfbrd,  tKj*~- 

"Tbe  nonh  wind  lObs  wtieie  M«reeret  tleepa, 
And  (till  in  lean  of  blood  her  memory  Scoittod  Mn 

■Ana  As  Ufia  v^  Viktt..       -        _         '  -^t.  Pub,  m 


ELBAlfORA    OF    CASTILLE.  l03 

He  turned  souUiward  instantly ;  but  though  he  travelled  with 
ost  speed,  he  arrived  too  late  to  see  her  living  once  more.  His 
le  queen  had  expired,  November  29th,  at  the  house  of  a  gentle- 
med  Weston.  She  died,  according  to  our  calculation,  m  the 
Tenth  year  of  her  age. 

irhole  affiiirs  of  Scotland,  however  pressing  they  might  be,  were 
ted,  for  a  time,  from  the  mind  of  the  great  Edward  by  the  acute 
he  sufiered  for  the  death  of  Eleanora ; '  nor,  till  he  had  paid  the 
e  considered  due  to  her  breathless  clay,  would  he  attend  to  the 
t  temporal  business.  In  the  bitterest  grief  he  followed  her  corpse 
»n  during  thirteen  days,  in  the  progress  of  the  royal  funeral,  from 
m  to  Westminster.  At  the  end  of  every  stage  the  royal  bier 
surrounded  by  its  attendants,  in  some  central  part  of  a  great 
II  the  neighbouring  ecclesiastics  came  to  meet  it  in  solemn  pro- 

and  placed  it  before  the  high  altar  of  the  principal  church.  At 
ne  of  these  resting-places  the  ro3ral  mourner  vowed  to  erect  a 
I  memory  of  the  chere  reine^  as  he  passionately  called  his  lost 
a.  Thirteen  of  these  splendid  monuments  of  his  aflections  once 
:  those  of  Northampton  and  Waltham '  still  remain  models  of 
tural  beauty.  The  principal  citizens  of  London,  with  their  ma- 
r,  came  several  miles  on  the  north  road,  clad  in  black  hoods  and 
ur  cloaks,  to  meet  the  royal  corpse  and  join  the  solemn  proces- 
rhe  hearse  rested,  previously  to  its  admission  into  Westminster 
at  the  spot  now  occupied  by  the  statue  of  Charles  I.,  which 
ided  a  grand  view  of  the  abbey,  the  hall,  and  palace  of  West- 
> 

'  buried  queen  Eleanora  at  the  feet  of  her  fiither-in-law.  Her 
statue,  reclining  on  an  altar-shaped  tomb,  was  cast  in  bronze  by 
t  patronised  by  Henry  IH.  and  Edward  I.  He  was  supposed  to 
xaebrated  Pietro  Cavallini,  but  his  name  is  now  certified  as  To- 
iherwise  called  Master  William,  the  Florentine.  He  built  his 
I  to  cast  the  queen's  statue,  in  St  Margaret's  churchyard.  The 
ent  Edward  paid  Torelli  £1700^  for  his  elegant  statue  of  the 
«nora.  It  is  well  worth  it,  for  he  produced  a  work  of  which 
dern  artist  miffht  be  justly  proud.  We  feel,  while  gazing  upon 
it  possesses  all  the  reality  of  individual  resemblance.    The  coun- 

of  Eleanora  is  serenely  smiling;  the  delicate  features  are  per- 
th  in  form  and  expression.  The  riffht  hand  held  a  sceptre,  now 
away ;  the  left  is  closed  over  someming  pendent  from  the  neck 
ring,  supposed  to  be  a  crucifix.  Her  head  is  crowned  with  a 
:ent  circlet,  from  which  her  hair  falls  in  elegant  waves  on  her 

lD|^m  and  Speed. 

lam  CroM  was  built  where  Eleanorm's  corpse  turned  from  the  high  north 
fest  lor  the  night  at  Waltham  Abbey,  which  is  situated  about  a  mile 
I  spoL 

he  accounts  of  the  executors  of  Eleanom  of  Castille,  edited  by  B.  Bot- 

!|.,  Rozburghe  Club,  published  since  the  second  impression  of  this  biogn^- 

n  which  the  author  is  glad  to  rectiiy  the  error  into  which  WalpoU  %&i\ 

had  led  her.  ^I&nsi. 


EI,E\NOB  A    I 


C  &  a  T I  L  L  K. 


I 

! 
i 


^honldcrs.  The  queen  of  Edward  I.  must  have  been  a  modd  of  fonil- 
nine  beauty.  No  wonder  that  llie  united  inlluence  of  lovidiowt,  viriue. 
and  Hweei  temper,  should  have  inspired  in  ilie  heart  of  her  renovHil 
lord  an  attachment  so  deep  and  true. 

The  king  endowed  the  abbey  of  Wesitninster  with  mnoy  rich  ipli*, 
for  dirges  and  masses,  to  commemorate  his  beloved  qUL-en.  Wox-liehu 
perpetually  burnt  around  her  tomb,  till  the  Reformation  extinguutneil 
them,  three  hundred  years  afterwards,  and  look  away  the  fuuds  ili«t 
kept  them  alight.  '■'■  She  halh,''  saya  Fabiaut  "■  two  wax  ttipcrs  bunnuj 
upon  her  lomb  both  day  and  nighi,  which  hath  so  continued  lya  iht 
day  of  her  burying  to  this  present." ' 

The  tomb  itself  is  of  grey  Petworlh  marble,  and  is  deai^ied  in  a  styie 
corresponding  with  the  rich  memorial  cross  of  Wullhami  especially  die 
lower  range  of  shields,  on  which  are  seen  embossed  the  loweis  of  0»- 
tille  and  the  puiple  lions  of  Leon,  with  tlie  bendleta  of  Ponthieu.  Rouod 
the  metal  table  on  which  the  statue  reposes  is  a  verge,  einbuaaed  witli 
Saxon  charvciers,  to  tliis  edect ; — ''  Here  lies  Alianor,  wife  lo  king  Ed- 
ward, formerly  queen  of  England,  on  whose  soul  God  for  pity  lun 
grace.  Amen,"  This  is  at  present  the  sole  epitaph  of  Elnnon  of 
Caatillei  but,  before  the  Reformation,  a  tablet  hung  near  the  tomb,  oa 
which  were  some  funeral  verses  in  Latin,  willi  an  English  translation  1^ 
some  ancient  rhymester,'  transcribed  here,  not  for  llieir  beauty,  InU  itMlf 
historical  chameter.  ^h 


oQueea  Eleuion  ii  heie  inlerred, 
A  rornl  Tiriuoui  dame, 

Siaier  UQIo  ibe  Spnnish  king, 
Of  ancirnt  blood  and  fame  ; 

King  Ed  wBid'i  wife ,  fini  of  (hut  nam* 
And  prince  of  Wales  by  right, 

Whoie  falher  Henrj-  josl  the  ihird 
Wu  Mue  an  Engliali  wi^L 

Ha  emved  bet  wife  unlo  bis  ton. 
Tba  prince  himself  did  goe 

Oq  that  embassage  luckiljr, 

Himteifwiih  many  moe, 


This 


31  or  li 


The  king  Alphonso  likod,         ^^H 

And  wiih  hia  siltei  and  diis  Prf^^H 

Thr  mairiage  up  was  ctrikod.  ^^| 

The  U0W17  rich  and  royal  WBi 

For  )uch  a  prince  moat  meetj 

For  Fonihipu  was  the  matriaga  ^t, 

A  dowry  rich  and  gresi, 

A  woman  bolh  in  caunul  wis*, 

Religious,  fruitful,  ineek, 

VVliodidiQcreatehoiliusbuKl'sfanai. 

And  'laiged  his  UoDOur  eke. 

L«un  10  dia. 


Of  all  the  crosses  raised  to  the  memory  of  Eleanora  of  CutUle  br 

'The  tomb  of  Ueniy  III.  is  richly  inlaid  with  curious  and  preciiMis  aRDO^ 
which  his  Mm,  Edward  L,  brought  with  him  from  Syria  Ibr  ibal  purpose.  Ip 
iplvndour  may  be  noticed  by  thcisa  who  wHlk  in  the  abb«y  banenlh  St.  Cdwanl^ 
chapel.  Fotuiwuely  most  of  this  beautiful  mosaie  of  outioo*  tionea  is  fttba 
on  the  ouuide  of  (he  obapel,  which  is  placed  al  an  inconreDiDDl  height  ix  <bi 
operaiions  of  the  pickers  and  stealers  wlio  daily  visit  that  stately  biie;  ibar 
Ibre  this  memenlo  of  our  great  king's  filial  piety  still  remains  in  a  lolerahia  sMC 
of  proser ration.  "Edward  I.  reserved  some  of  his  precious  itorn  to  ailan  i« 
slstoe  of  his  beloved  wife,  ftir  tuuod  the  neck  are  cusps,  where  a  camnet  llM 
been  ftKcd,  but  it  has  been  wrenched  off  and  stolen." — PtnnaM. 

*A  iradiiion  is  exlanl,  Ihat  Skelion  (whom  we  are  loath  10  call  ■  pool,  iSnt^ 
Poet  Laureate  to  Henry  VUI.)  translated  the  Latin  epilaphs  into  Englbfa,  whDf 
he  was  ■  sanctuary-man,  under  the  protection  of  Abbot  Islip,  who  bad  lk«> 
huftg  on  laMels  neu  th«  torabi. — Bvftey't  UisioTical  FenmbolvBf. 


BLBANOEA    OP    CA8TILLB.  105 

her  Borrowing  widower^  that  of  Charing  is  the  most  frequently  named 
by  the  inhabitants  of  the  metropolis,  although  the  structure  itself  has 
fanished  from  the  &ce  of  the  earth.  Yet  every  time  Charing  Cross  is 
mentioned,  a  tribute  is  paid  unconsciously  to  the  virtues  of  Eklward  I.'s 
bdored  queen,  for  the  ^pellation  is  derived  from  the  king's  own  lips, 
who  always  spoke  of  her  in  his  French  dialect  as  the  chere  reine.  Thus 
hid  words  Charing  Cross  signify,  the  ^  dear  queen's  cross,'' '  an  object 
tmi  was  alwajTS  seen  by  the  royal  widower  in  his  egress  and  regress 
from  his  palace  of  Westminster.  This  anecdote  is  corroborated  by  Ed- 
ward's personal  habits,  who  certainly,  like  his  ancestors,  spoke  French 
n  his  ftioiiliar  intercourse.'  Our  sovereigns  had  not  yet  adopted  English 
as  their  mother  tongue.  Although  Edward  and  his  father  spoke  Englisli 
readily,  yet  their  conversation  in  domestic  life  was  chiefly  canied  on  in 
Fiench. 

Foreigner  as  she  was,  Eleanora  of  Castille  entirely  won  the  love  and 
fDod-wul  of  her  subjects.  Walsiagham  thus  sums  up  her  character:' 
**To  our  nation  she  was  a  loving  mother,  the  colnnm  and  pillar  of  the 
iriiole  realm ;  therefore,  to  her  glory,  the  king  her  husband  caused  all 
those  fiunous  trophies  to  be  erected,  wherever  her  noble  corse  did  rest ; 
for  he  loved  her  above  all  earthly  creatures.  She  was  a  godly,  modest, 
iod  merciful  princess :  the  English  nation  in  her  time  was  not  harassed 
bj  foreigners,  nor  the  country  people  by  the  purveyors  of  the  crown. 
The  sorrow-stricken  she  consoled  as  became  her  dignity,  and  she  made 
Ihcm  friends  that  were  at  discord." 

Civilixation  made  rapid  advances  under  the  auspices  of  a  court,  so 
veil  regulated  as  that  of  Eleanora  of  Castille.  Wdes,  in  particular, 
emerged  from  its  state  of  barbarism  in  some  degree.  The  manners  of 
ibe  Welsh  were  so  savage,  at  the  time  when  Eleanora  kept  her  court  in 
North  Wales,  that  her  royal  lord  was  forced  to  revive  an  ancient  Welsh 
lav,  threatening  severe  punishments  to  any  one  ^  who  should  strike  the 
queen,  or  snatch  any  thing  out  of  her  liand."  The  English  had  little 
reason  to  pride  themselves  on  their  superiority.  Although  there  was  no 
dinger  of  their  beating  the  queen  in  her  hall  of  state,  they  had  pelted 
her  predecessor  from  London  Bridge.    Moreover,  in  the  commencement 

'Melcolm**  Londiniam  Rediviva.  In  the  accounts  published  by  Botfield  of 
Kleanora  of  Ckstille**  executors,  the  progress  of 'this  cross  is  repeatedly  men- 
tioBed  as  Cmetm  dt  la  Char  Rjfnge.  It  is  possible  that  the  word  Charing  may 
faive  oome  ftom  the  car  or  char-ring,  being  the  drive  where  the  carriages  or  cars 
•f  those  visiting  at  the  palace,  drove  round  while  waiting  for  their  owners. 

"Rblindied. 

*The  common  people  have  not  dealt  so  justly  by  her ;  the  name  of  this  virtuous 
woman  and  excellent  queen  is  only  known  by  them  to  be  slandered  by  means 
of  a  popular  ballad,  called  **  A  Warning  against  Pride,  being  the  Fall  of  Queen 
Elfanora,  Wife  to  Edward  I.  of  England,  who  for  her  pride  sank  into  the  earth 
■i  Queenhithe,  and  rose  again  at  Cliaring  Crosf,  aAer  killing  the  lady  mayoress/* 
'ome  feint  tmces  of  the  qiwrrels  between  the  city  of  London  and  Eleanor  of 
Nyvence  regarding  Queenhithe,  had  been  heard  by  the  writer  of  this  ballad, 
^lio  ormibunded  her  with  her  daughter-in-law,  whose  name  was  connected  with 
^Wing  Cross. 


I 

I 


4V  ELKAIIORA    OF    CASTILLI.  ^^M 

of  ihe  reign  o(  Eilwanl  I.,  Luodon  was  so  ill-gwanied,  that  avatiem 
mm  coDiiuitwd  in  the  Btreeta  in  noan-*lay.' 

Sculpture, artliilcrtiirp, and  cwiing  in  brass  and  bronze,  were  not  oalj 
encournxcd  by  king  Edward  aiid  his  quern,  but  brought  to  ^creat  perirc- 
lion  by  Torclli,  and  native  ariistii  wliotii  tliejT  cncoumgeil  in  liiia  rouutr;. 
Oarriiig  in  iVi>od,  an  art  purely  £ngluli,  now  richly  deconled  boili 
ecdesiaatical  anil  domestic  Btructures. 

Eleaiiora  o(  Oistille  lirst  introduced  tlie  use  of  tapestry  as  hangiiui 
for  walls.  It  waa  a  la^hion  appertaining  to  Moorish  luxury,  ulopiu  of 
the  Spaniards.  The  coldness  or  our  clintale  musi  have  mode  it  iali*- 
penpable  lo  the  Tnir  daughter  of  the  South,  chilled  wiilt  the  damp  ' 
walU  of  English  Gothic  halb  and  chambers,  hi  the  preceding  cei 
Ispestry  was  aolely  worked  to  decorate  aluirs,  or  lo  be  disf^ayed 
torial  exliibiiions,  in  oolcrnn  coi  urn  cm  oration  of  great  eveuta,  like  iht 
fiayeux  tapestry  of  Matilda  of  Flanders. 

The  robes  worn  by  the  court  of  Eleanora  of  Castijle  were  graceful; 
the  close  under-gown,  or  kirtle,  was  mnde  high  in  the  neck,  with  ligtil 
sleeves,  and  a  tmiii,  over  which  an  elcg-^nt  rube,  with  full  fur  slecm 
was  worn.  The  ugly  gorget,  an  imitation  of  the  helmets  of  the  knlghu, 
executeO  in  white  cambric  or  lawn,  out  of  which  waa  cul  a  visor  for  itit 
lace  to  peep  through,  deformed  the  head-tire  of  some  of  the  ladies  of  to 
court,  and  is  w  be  »«n  on  ihe  €tli^  (oUierwite  niosl  degiinI)of  Ardiit 
countess  of  Lancaster,  her  sialcr-iii-luw.  Bui  Eleanors  had  a  bMter  W 
in  dress ;  no  gorget  bi<les  her  beautiful  throat  and  fine  shoulders,  IV 
her  ringlets  flow  on  each  side  of  her  face,  and  (all  on  her  neck  iita 
under  the  regal  diadem.  The  lavlics  of  Spain  are  celebrated  tot  the 
beauty  of  their  hair,  and  we  gee  by  her  statues  ilint  Elmnora  did  Bot 
conceal  her  tresses.  The  elegance  and  simplicity  of  the  dress  niaf«i 
by  this  lovely  <]iieen,  might  form  h  model  for  female  costume  in  any  mi-' 

There  is  fiille  more  than  tradition  lo  support  tho  assertion,  that  M 
Eteonora  of  Casiille  England  owes  the  introduction  <if  ibe  fiimoui  brMd 
of  sheep  fur  which  Colswoir)  has  been  so  famous.  A  few  of  these  cRt- 
lures  were  introduced,  by  the  care  of  the  patriotic  queen,  from  her  naiin 
Spain;  and  they  had  increased  to  that  degree  in  about  half  a  oeotnry, 
that  their  wool  became  the  staple  riches  of  England. 

The  last  time  ilie  name  of  Eleanors  of  Caslille  appears  in  our  nalionti 
records,  is  in  the  Parliamentary  Rolls,  and  from  Nonuan  French  a» 
translate  the  following  supplication: — •'The  executors  of  Oiirer  de 
Ingram  pray  to  recover  before  the  king's  audiiora  three  handred  and  Sitj 


'  Tlie  vigoroui  goremmeni  of  Edwnrd  (oon  cniihed  theas  aTila.  Bs  laaJ*!! 
I>et>B]  bf  proclamslian  lot  on^  perioD,  but  the  graBl  lotd*,  to  Im  spod  in  LooiIb) 
■Itaels  with  etihrr  ipear  or  liuclilet,  tRei  iho  partem  at  St.  Maittn'>-le.OfafKl  AmI 
nirm  t>ut  hiiouifpw  beK,  ■  ptoor  Ihalthe  curfew  \Fa>  rung  u  late  u  ilwilnNtf 
EUward  I.  Il  bail  Ifeoome  ea  instnimeal  of  civil  police,  nihot  Uian  mUtm^ 
i)e>potiiin.  Tlie  hiihw&fs,  on  wtiich  we  have  isen  Hetirf  TIL  ami  hi*  qon* 
fobtwd  in  open  dny.wMo  nowclearedof  all  wood  eiceptiDg  high  ireti.  fin  Hw 
ft«t  on  Mch  (iile.  Tlit  flrsl  clock  in  England  waj  set  up  in 
p««lo  to  Wedmuatei  Palace.— Slow. 


MhMJLMORJL    OF    CAtTIX.I.B«  101 

)d  by  Dame  Alianora,  late  queen  and  companion  to  our  lord 
rd  I^  and  the  said  executors  show  that  thoueh  our  lord  tlw 
iren  command  to  have  it  paid,  it  is  not  yet  done ;  therefore 
ly  ciare  that  he  will  be  pleased  to  give  a  new  order  for  thai 
ceoont  of  the  health  of  the  soul  of  the  said  queen  Alianora^ 
lion.** 

ioeument  we  learn  from  the  beet  authority,  that  creditori,  in 
rhtn  Catholicism  was  prevalent,  conaidnred  they  kept  a  detain- 
n  the  souls,  even,  of  rojral  debtors.' 

r,  in  the  same  parliament,  the  poor  prioress  and  her  nuns  of 
iresent  a  pathetic  petition  to  the  king,  representing  ^  how 
ley  have  prayed  for  the  soul  of  madame  the  queen,  late  com- 
ling  Edward,  and  they  hope  for  perpetual  alms  for  the  suste- 
heir  poor  convent  in  London,  in  consideration  of  the  paina 
teken,"" 

.  of  Gsstille  left  seven  living  daughters  and  one  son.  Only 
daughters  were  married. 

'  the  sixth  daughter  of  king  Edward  and  Eleanora  of  Gastille, 
d  at  Ipswich  (the  year  before  her  father's  wedlock  with  Mar- 
Trance)  to  the  count  of  HoUand.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  young 
rer  left  England,  for  two  years  afterwards  her  lord  died,  and 
ft  a  widow,  childless.  She  afterwards  married  the  earl  of 
lumphrey  de  Bohun.  Another  entry  mentions  the  birth  of 
Ud. 

80, 1803.  To  Robert  le  Norreys,  servant  to  the  lady  Isabella 
*  Hereford,  the  king's  daughter,  for  bringing  news  to  the  prince 
of  the  birth  of  her  first  son,  £26  ld«.  4d. 
icese-royal  married,  afWr  the  death  of  her  mother,  the  duke  of 

3  king  paid  Husso  de  Thomville,  valet  of  the  count  of  Barr, 
f  him  news  of  the  birth  of  her  eldest  son,  the  enormous  sum 
nds !  But  this  boy  was  the  next  heir  to  England  after  Edward 
von,  as  Edward  I.  settled  the  succession  on  the  daughters  of 

4  Cutille;  first  on  the  countess  of  Barr  and  her  progeny, 

neediDg  tuch  stimulus,  and  solely  prompted  by  family  honour  and  a 
itegrit},  we  have  seen  our  young  queen  pay  the  debts  of  a  ftther 
tever  knew — a  line  of  conduct  in  early  youth  which  is,  we  trust,  duly 
by  her  country.  Long  after  this  sublunary  scene  has  dosed  npon 
of  regality,  the  biographers  of  succeeding  centuries  will  remember 
this  action  of  the  then  maiden  sovereign  of  Great  Britain. 
>ar.  Rolls,  475. 

les  in  the  household  book  of  Edward  I.,  1298,  preserve  some  of  the 
>f  this  marriage.  **  To  Maud  Maktfofff  for  dancing  before  Edward, 
^ales,  in  the  King  s  Hall  at  Ipswich,  two  shillings.  To  sir  Peter 
in  lieu  of  the  bridal  bed  of  the  countess  of  Holland,  the  king's 
bich  be  ought  to  have  had  as  his  fee  when  she  married  the  earl  of 
Ipswich,  twenty  marks.  To  Reginald  Page-Ho  John  the  VUhtUUm 
non,  minstrels,  for  making  minstrelsy,  the  day  of  the  marriage  of  die 
Iter,  the  countess  of  Holland,  fiAy  shillings  eiioh.'' 


106  BLSAiroBA  or  castillb. 

then  on  Joanna  of  Acre,  and  all  the  Ktta  princeaMa  dien  aHre,  i 
cession. 

Edu-aril  I.  survived  moat  of  hii  beloved  HMHon'a  Aildrtn.  J 
of  Acre  died  soon  after  her  &ther.  The  conniesa  c^  Barr  pneede 
la  the  tomb  soon  after  the  birth  of  her  aecond  MO,  io  1S9B,  ai 
countess  t>{  ilerpford  sum*ed  him  but  four  yewa. 

The  nun-princesB,  and  the  onfoitnnaie  Edward  II.,  mn  the 
indiTiduala  that  reached  the  t«ni  of  middle  life,  ovt  of  tba  mm 
family  itiat  Edward  I.  had  by  Elemom  of  ChatiUa. 


MARGUERITE  OF  FRANCE, 

SECOND  QUEEN  OF  EDWARD  I. 


ikii  fcmity  of  Maigoerita— Ditconaolate  widowhood  of  Edward  L — ^Demsndt 
Mugnerite's  sister — ^Blanohe  la  Belle — ^Edward  contracted  to  Miargaerit»— 
Espousals— Maids  of  honour — Edward  leaves  his  bride  for  the  Scotch  wai^-* 
Qoeen  follows  Edward — ^Lives  at  Brotherton— -Eldest  son  bom  there — Lett  at 
Oiwood — Queen  goes  to  Scotland-— Danger  of  journey  owing  to  Wallaoe— Her 
oourt  at  Dunfemi  line— High  festival  at  Westminster  Palace— Marguerite's  gold 
eiiolet — ^Birth  of  the  qoeen's  seoond  son^^Queen's  kindness — Robert  J^ruce^s 
oowB— Queen  saves  a  goldsmith's  life— Benevolence  to  the  mayor  of  Win 
efaester^-Residence  at  Winchester— 'Death  of  king  Edward — Happy  Wedlock 
of  Marguerite-^Her  good  qualities— Her  historiographer  John  o'  London— His 
Aetch  of  Edward's  character— -Anecdotes  of  Edward— Marguerite's  visit  to 
Fmnce— Friendship  with  her  son-in-law — ^Widowhood — Early  death— Burial 
^-Cbaritiee — ^Foundations— Debts^-Children — Present  descendants. 

The  early  death  of  the  braTe  eon  and  successor  of  St  Louis,  king 
Uip  le  mrdif  left  his  joongest  daughter,  the  princess  Marguerite, 
AiierksB  at  a  very  tender  age.  She  was  brought  up  under  the  guardian- 
bip  of  her  brother,  Philip  le  Bel,  and  carefully  educated  by  her  mother, 
Qsen  Marie,  a  learned  and  Tirtuous  princess,  to  whom  Joinville  dedi- 
aiad  his  immortal  memoirs.'  Marguerite  early  showed  indications  of 
la  Mme  piety  and  innate  goodness  of  heart  which,  notwithstanding 
ane  superfluity  of  devotion,  really  distinguished  the  character  of  her 
nudfttber. 

If  Marguerite  of  France  possessed  any  comeliness  of  penon,her  claims 
»  beauty  w€«6  wholly  overlooked  by  contemporaries,  who  surveyed 
rith  admiialion  the  exquisite  persons  of  her  dder  brother  and  sister, 
•d  somamed  them,  by  common  consent,  Philip  le  Bel  and  Blanche  la 
Me.  The  eldest  princess  of  France  was  full  six  years  older  than  Mar- 
iwrite,'  and  was  withal  the  reigning  beauty  of  Europe,  when  Edward  I. 
^■B  rendered  the  roost  disconsolate  of  widowers,  by  the  death  of  EJea- 
Nxi  of  Oastille.  If  an  historian  may  be  believed,  who  is  so  completely 
*  contemporary  that  he  ceased  to  write  before  the  second  Edward  ceased 
o  reign,  Marguerite  was  substituted,  in  a  marriage-treaty,  commenced  by 
Sdwvd  for  the  beautiful  Blanche,  by  a  diplomatic  mancBuvre,  unequalled 
or  craft  since  the  days  of  Leah  and  Rachel. 

'Of  the  Life  of  St  Louis. 

*8ee  Piers  of  Langtoft,  corroborated  by  Speed's  calculation  of  the  age  of  Mar> 
F^inite.    As  th«^  most  extraordinary  blunders  have  been  made  by  an  ajflC^^n  ^\a 
'v*  endeaTonred  to  write  thii  menunTf  the  point  deserret  aUensoDTi. 

VOL.  u. — 10  ivatt\ 


I 


IIO  MABGtBRITE     OF    FHA^ICB. 

It  hafl  been  seen  that  grief  in  the  energetic  mind  of  Etlwanl  1. 1 
Uie  cliaracler  nf  intense  activity ;  but  aftet  all  was  done  that  hiiinu 
ingenuity  roulU  contrive^  or  that  the  gorgeous  ceremonials  of  tike  Rotnu 
church  could  deTise,  of  funeral  honours  lo  the  memory  of  the  ekht 
reine,  his  beloved  Elcanora,  the  warlike  king  of  England  sank  into  ■ 
morbid  state  of  mdiuicholy.  His  contemporary  chronicler  eniphatinUy 
says — 


I 


•      A  more  forlorn  widowerhood  no  pen  can  portray  than  is  thna 
by  the  monk  Piers. 

It  is  exceedingly  curious  to  observe  how  anxioiu  Edwftnl 
aseerlain  the  qualifications  of  the  princess  Blanche.  Hi 
were  commanded  to  give  a  minute  description  doi  only  of  her  face  wd 
manners,  but  of  the  turn  of  her  waist,  the  form  of  her  foot  and  of  htr 
hand;  likewise  tn  fiu;ovn,  perhaps  dress  and  demeanour. 

The  result  of  this  inquisition  was,  that  Blanche  was  perfeclly  lovdf, 
for  tif  plua  bel  erealuTt  rati  Irouve,  Moreover,  sire  Edward,  at  his  n»- 
ture  age,  became  violently  in  love  (from  report)  of  the  charms  of  Blaadu 
1>  Belle.  The  royal  pair  began  to  correspond,  and  the  d&msel  ulm^ 
ished  him  by  letter,  thai  he  must  in  all  things  submit  lo  her  btotktr. 
king  Philip.  In  truth,  the  extreme  wi»h  of  king  Edward  to  be  ipis 
united  in  wedlock  with  a  lair  and  loving  queen  induced  him  to  comdr 
with  rondilions  loo  hard,  even  for  a  young  bride  to  exact,  who  hta  j 
hand,  a  waist,  and  a  fool  perfect  as  those  possessed  by  Blanche  In  Belk 
Philip  demanded  thai  Gascony  should  be  given  up  by  Edward  fvcrvBi 
as  a  settlement  on  any  posterity  Edward  might  have  by  his  bMuAil 
sister.  To  this  our  king  agreed ;  but  when  he  surrendered  the  (ituiiMa 
according  to  the  feudal  tenure,'  to  his  auzeTsin,  the  treacbvoua  IVif 
refused  to  give  it  up,  or  let  him  marry  his  beautiful  sist«r  i  and  jw  * 
this  time  the  name  of  Ma^uerile,  tlie  youngest  sister  of  Blanche,  a  dii 
of  little  more  than  eleven  years  of  age,  is  found  in  the  marriage  IKtl 
between  England  and  France. 

The  consternation  of  the  king's  brother,  Edmund  of 
he  found  the  villanous  part  Philip  le  Bel  meant  to  play,  i 
of  the  duchy  of  Guienne,  is  very  apparenL    His  letter 
•amiraes  so  much  the  style  of  famUiar  correspondence,  that  it  is  l*tt 


'Pii 


raof  Langtofl. 


.  .._  y,  at  nuTsled  bj  Piers,  is 

modecQ  copjrhold. 

EdwKid  without  te«er*o 
Sal  give  Philip  lbs  king 
The  wIioIp  oCGaKoay, 
Without  Jinuibing 
After  the  /arif  day> 
JIMing  '»«/"2' 


iceetliogly  like  the 


JIMing  t»«  frnfmna 


£b^K 


MAmaUBRITB    OF    FRANCS.  Ill 

lial  the  limits  of  this  work  will  not  permit  the  entire  insertion 
nment 

^  says  earl  Edmund,  ^  my  lord  and  brother  had  surrendered, 
ce  of  Christendom,  this  territory  of  Crascony  to  the  will  of 
ig  Philip  assured  me,  by  word  of  mouth,  that  he  would  agree 
esaid  terms ;  and  he  came  into  my  chamber,  where  the  queen 
ras,  with  monsieur  Hugh  de  Vere,  and  master  John  de  Lacy, 
ught  with  him  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  and  there  he  promised, 
to  the  ^th  of  loyal  kings,  that,  in  reality,  all  things  should 
opposed.  And  on  this  faith  we  sent  master  John  de  Lacy  to 
n  order  to  render  up  to  the  people  of  the  king  of  France  the 
le  land,  as  afore  agreed.  And  the  king  sent  the  constable  of 
receive  it.  And  when  these  things  were  done,  we  came  to 
ueens,'  and  they  prayed  the  king  of  France  that  he  would 
riTe  safe  conduct  to  my  lord  the  king,  to  come  and  receive 
Hid  and  fortresses  according  to  his  covenant  And  the  king 
in  secret,  in  the  presence  of  queen  Jane,  told  me  he  was 
t  he  must  return  a  hard  answer  before  the  council,  but  never- 
meant  to  fulfil  all  he  had  undertaken.  And  forthwith  he  de- 
re  his  said  council  ^  that  he  never  meant  to  restore  the  terri- 
ieh  he  had  just  been  given  full  seisin.'  "    . 

nund  evidently  concludes  his  letter  in  a  great  fright,  lest  Philip 
lid  persist  in  his  cheating  line  of  conduct ;  but  he  makes  a 
bortation  to  his  brother,  not  to  let  tmall  causes  break  the 
His  letter  is  accompanied  by  a  treaty  of  marriage,  in  which 
not  the  name  of  the  beautiful  princess  Blanche,  but  that  of 
Marguerite.  A  fierce  war  immediately  ensued,  lasting  from 
l98,  during  which  time  Edward,  who  at  sixty  had  no  time  to 
sft  half  married  to  Blanclie ;  for,  according  to  Piers  of  Lang- 
eems  intimately  acquainted  with  this  curious  piece  of  secret 
3  pope's  dispensation  had  already  been  completed.' 

ot  till  the  year  1298  that  any  pacific  arrangement  took  place, 
dward  and  the  brother  of  Blanche.  The  treaty  was  then 
H"  Marguerite,  who  had  grown  up  in  the  meantime.  The 
ngement  was  referred  to  the  arbitration  of  the  pope,  who  de- 
t  Guienne  was  to  be  restored  to  the  right  owner ;  that  Ed- 
•uld  marry  Maiguerite,  and  that  she  should  be  paid  the  portion 
bousand  pounds  left  her  by  king  Philip  le  Hardi,  her  mther.'' 
Piers  verily  believes,  Philip  le  Bel  meant  to  appropriate  to 
e. 

es  not  say  why  the  younger  sister  was  substituted  instead  of 

iger  of  Navarre,  queen  Blanche,  mother  to  Jane,  wife  of  the  king  of 
married  to  Edmund  of  Lancaster. 

Q  of  France  and  her  mother,  queen  Blanche,  wife  of  Lancaster, 
•tated  by  Piers  are  most  satiofactorily  confirmed  \jj  Wikes.    Like* 
learned  researches  of  sir  Harris  Nicolas ;  see  a  Latin  poem  pre* 

■  city  archives,  Chronicle  of  London,  p.  1312. 


I 


■  ARarSBITB    OP    F8ANCK. 

Blsnehe,'  but  he  seems  to  insinuate  in  these  lines  that  she  w 
charocter : — 


MsTg;ucrile  was  maiTied  to  EJwanI,  who  met  lier  at  Cnnterlrary,  by 
Robert  de  Winchelsea,  September  Sth,  1299,  when  she  waa  in  her  saveti- 
tcenth  year. 

Among  '■^  the  folk  o{  good  array,"  sent  by  Philip  for  the  aceommixl*- 
tion  of  the  May*  his  sister,'  we  find  by  the  wantfobe-book  of  E!dwiT<J 
I.  ihal  there  were  three  ladies  of  the  bed-fhamber,  and  four  noble  dcinoi- 
selles,  or  mai<ls  of  honour.  Among  these  attendants  are  two  Fiench,u 
Agnes  de  la  Croise,  to  whom  was  paid  10  marks;  and  MatilJe  de  VnL 
100  shillings.  Two  ladies  were  sent  from  England  to  watt  on  the  young 
queen ;  these  were  the  lady  Vaux  and  the  lady  Joanna  Fountayne ;  mch 
received  101,  Our  chroniclers  speak  much  of  the  goodness  of  Margue- 
rite of  France,  and  she  seems  to  have  deserved  the  respect  and  a^ctiiHi 
of  her  royal  lord.  At  the  time  of  her  marrif^e  with  the  king  of  Eng- 
land, her  niece,  the  young  daughter  of  king  Phdip,  was  solemnly  be- 
trothed to  her  aon-in-lttW  Edward. 

■'Now,"  says  a  Laiin  poem'  descriptive  of  the  Scottish  war,  "the 
king  returns  tliat  he  may  marry  queen  Marguerite  the  flower  of  Fniacf. 
When  love  buds  between  great  princes  it  drives  away  bitter  sobs  from 
their  subjects."  The  stormy  aspect  of  the  umea  did  not  aflbrd  tiw 
royal  bridegroom  leisure  lo  attend  to  the  coronation  of  Margueiilf. 
King  Edward  had  very  little  time  to  devote  to  his  bride ;  for,  to  hi* 
great  indignation,  all  his  barons,  taking  the  opportunity  of  his  absencr, 
thought  proper  to  disband  themselves,  and  disperse  their  feudaiory  mili- 
tia, Icnving  their  warlike  king  but  the  shadow  of  an  army,  lo  pursue  the 
advantages  he  had  gained  by  the  sanguinary  battle  of  Fatkii^.*  la  less 
than  a  week  the  royal  bridegroom  departed  with  fiery  speed  to  crush,  it 

'  Ii  WB§  ttwauMi  ihp  bmiiiful  Blanclie  had  tbe  prospccl  or  beinE  wnpitu. 
Blunclio,  dDugbier  of  Pbilip  le  Uardi.  and  tin>ei  to  Philip  le  Bel,  married  Rodol- 
pliua  duke  of  Austria,  eldest  ma  lo  ilie  eniperat  Albert  I.  Her  liu'banil  wiu 
Kttctwatds  lung  of  Bohemia.  Tbia  marringe  »-bs  sjrangcd  twtweeii  king  Philip 
mill  Albert  The  joudk  lad;',  Who  had  accompanied  her  brother,  wa*  befrcHbrd 
al  T<iol,  in  Lorraine,  io  the  apilng  of  1SB9, — iht  Frmm'l  Neltt  to  fWitmtt  cftU 
Prima  it  Joimait. 

■  Philip  for  ibat  Maf  I  With  )b1k  ot  geod  mmp 

Made  Pioviilmoe  readjt;  |  To  Dover  came  ihs. 

[n  the  king'i  household  booif  ibere  it  a  prnseni  of  two  handmt  n«ika  to  A* 
valet  of  the  Iting'a  obBmber.  Edmund  de  Cloinwall,  oo  occaston  of  the  kkc'i 
marriflge  with  Marguerite  of  Fraiica. 

•  Song  of  the  ScoitUh  Wars.     Political  Songj  of  England,  Csniden  Snoierr.  I?*. 

*tl  Was  al  IhU  juncture  that  Robert  Bniee  first  manilestmi  lonn  WHiaiUlit]r  tor 
ilie  woei  of  the  muntiy  whole  rorsl  blood  he  iharnd.  After  taa  flmllr  Ivft  iha 
baud!  Af  Edward  I.,  ho  wai  not  able  to  pnviilp  for  tbe  relmt  of  hi*  wife,  wh* 
WHJ  left  St  the  court  of  the  yoimB  qupen.  The  [adjrde  Bruce  iraa  not  lU  Baai*<t 
tliDugh  ihe  was  put  onder  realrainl  at  me  of  the  royal  manor*;  aha  wsj  ■Ho*'iai 
three  jxiund*  per  month  for  maintenance,  and  was  prDvided  wuh  « 
ainotig  wUoat  it  speoi&ed  "one  &itfr4»], d«a«tu  and  not  rtotou  to  a 


MAmeCERITS    OF    FRANCS.  113 

possible,  the  gallant  efibrts  the  Scotch  were  making  for  ibeir  fireedom. 
lie  left  London  the  Wednesday  after  his  marriage. 

The  queen,  while  her  husband  was  thus  engaged)  reipained  in  Lon- 
don, and  resided  chiefly  at  the  Tower.  The  suite  of  apartments  where 
the  queens  of  England  had  previously  kept  their  state  at  Westminster 
liaTing  been  lately  d/estroyed  by  Are,  the  royal  palace  of  the  Tower  was, 
in  (act,  the  only  metropolitan  residence  at  which  Marguerite  could  so^ 
jouni.'  During  the  summer  succeeding  the  queen's  bridal,  her  court  at  the 
Tower  was  placed  almost  under  quarantine,  owing  to  the  breaking  out 
of  a  pestiienee,  remarkable  for  its  infections  nature.  From  the  writings 
of  Gaddesden,  court  physician  at  this  time,  we  come  to  the  conclusion 
thai  this  was  the  smaU-pox,  imported  by  Edward  I.'s  crusade  from 
Syria. 

AAer  this  summer,  queen  Marguerite  spent  the  principal  part  of  her 
time,  like  her  predecessor,  Eleanora  of  QistiUe,  following  the  camp  of 
king  Edward :  and  when  the  ferocious  contest  he  was  carrying  on  in 
Scotland  made  her  residence  in  that  kingdom  too  dangerous,  she  kept 
court  in  one  of  the  northern  counties.  Edward  set  out,  with  his  queen 
and  his  eldest  son,  in  April  1300,  and,  taking  his  route  through  Lincoln- 
shire, crossed  the  Humber  into  Yorkshire,  and  left  the  queen  at  Brother- 
ton  ;  a  village  on  the  banks  of  the  Wherfe  in  Yorkshire.  Here  that 
prince  was  bom,  from  whom  the  noble  family  of  Howard  is  directly 
descended,  and  in  whose  right  the  head  of  that  house  bears  the  honour 
of  earl  marshal  of  Enriand.  Marguerite  gave  birth  to  prince  Thomas 
on  the  1st  of  June.  The  queen  had  made  rich  offerings  to  the  shrine 
of  Canterbury,  previously  to  the  birth  of  her  in&nt ;  and  she  named 
him  Thomas,  after  the  favourite  English  saint' 

"The  king  Md  her  not  nay, 
But  come  to  tbo  north  countrie, 
Unto  Birothorton  on  Wherfo, 
Then  was  she 
Mother  of  a  ton,  tfast  ehild  hif^t, 


*  When  the  king  heard  my 
She  had  to  well  /ens  (&red) 


Thither  he  went  away 
To  see  her  and  her  bairn. 


**  The  queen,  with  her  son, 
At  Cawood  leaves  he, 
And  oft  he  came  on  Ouse 
Her  to  y-aee."  * 


bed."  Her  whole  retinue  coniisted  of  three  men,  three  maids,  and  three  grey- 
hoanda.  She  was  allowed  withal  fish  and  game,  and  the  fkirest  house  on  the 
manor.  AU  this  olemency  is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  Robert  Brace's  father 
liad  been,  in  the  onmdet,  the  companion  in  arms  and  dear  friend  of  king  Ed- 
ward. In  a  bond  still  extant  for  forty  pounds  lent  by  Edward  to  the  elder 
Bruce,  the  king  styles  him  his  beloved  bachelor.  When  Edward  advanced  in 
yestrs  be  grew  fierqer,  and,  forgetting  the  affections  of  his  youtliful  days,  hanged 
the  younger  sons  of  his  old  fhend,  Alexander  and  Thomas  de  Bruce.  —  &t  Fw- 


'  Before  Marguerite  took  up  her  abode  at  the  Tower,  king  Edward  took  the 
pMcaulioa  of  issuing  his  royal  mandate  to  the  civic  authorities,  in  which,  after 
ialormiDg  them,  **  that  his  beloved  companion  the  queen  would  shortly  sojourn 
in  the  Tower  of  London,  he  ei\|oins  that  no  petitioner  fVom  the  city  should  pre- 
sume 10  appxoaeh  that  spot,  lest  the  person  of  the  queen  be  endangered  by  the 
contagion  being  brought  fh>m  the  infected  air  of  the  city."  This  order  is  dated 
fnm  Cariisls.  Jans  88th.        "YsarBookof  Edwaxd  L  •  (^an  qI  \aA«cA. 

10* 


n*  HAItOL'ERITE    OP    FSkSCB.  ^^| 

The  young  queen  was  stationeJ  at  Cowood  Castle,  a  insgniliceni  jmIs 
of  feudal  grandeur,  being  a  coiin  try -seal  belonging  to  ihe  arclibishonnr. 
seven  miles  from  York.  King  Edward  often  came  there  down  ihe  Ouie 
lo  see  her  and  her  infant.  Here  Marguerite  chiefly  abode-,'  till  the  yesT 
1304.  Her  husband  then  considered  Scotland  subdued  from  tea  lo  Ms, 
and  as  completely  prostrate  as  the  principBlily  of  Wales ;  npon  "kkh 
he  sent  for  his  young  queen  to  behold  hia  triumph,  and  lo  keep  Chmt 
mas  at  Dunfermline, 

Piers  of  t^ngtofi  declares  there  was  much  danger  in  her  joumifv ; 
for  though  Scotland  vaa  appnrenily  subdued,  the  woods  and  hig-liirav! 
swarmed  with  armed  men,  who  would  not  come  in  and  submit  lo  ilie 
conqueror.  Thus  irreverently  doea  thai  time-«erving  historian  ding  of» 
hero,  whose  memory  lias  been  embalmed,  by  the  justice  of  more  morlem 
ages.  Speaking  of  the  danger  of  ihe  royal  Marguerite's  journey  to 
Dunfermline,  he  aays ; 


"  Bui  tho  lord  of  Bodenocb, 
PrBser,  nnd  Wallitce. 
Lived  al  tliieTei  Intr, 
And  robbed  all  the  wafa. 
Tbey  linil  di 
Tlie 


"  By  that  Ibe  wni  wb»  em  (ended), 

Winter  was  three  year, 

To  Dunfermeline  he  wont, 

For  ro«  will  he  there. 

For  the  qoeon  ho  hdi, 

And  ihe  did  diglil  her  eheer ; 

From  CbwixkI  >1ie  Weill  But  lived  upon  chance, 

To  Sunfermeliiie  lo  fare.  And  robtied  nye  betwevn." 

Scotland,  at  the  lime  when  queen  JMarguerite  kept  hei  couH,  lilt 
Christmas  of  1304,  at  high  Dunfermline,'  seemed  to  lie  bleeding  at  iht 
feel  of  Edward;  every  fortress  had  surrendered  excepting  Stirling  Gmlf. 
from  whose  unconquered  heights  the  Royal  Lion  of  Scotland  still  floaud 
in  the  national  banner. 

Marguerite  and  Edward  kept  iheir  royal  state  at  Dunfermline  until  the 
Idst  fatal  wound  was  supposed  to  be  inHicted  on  Scotland,  by  the  tts- 
chcroua  capture  of  Wallace,  and  the  fall  of  Stirling.  Lexving  Lonl 
Scgrave,  commander  at  DunfermUne,  Edward  and  his  queen  comnMiKCd 
ihi^ir  celebrated  triumphal  progress  homeward  to  England.  Wbeiixr 
Edward  brought  Wallace  in  chains  with  him  in  this  triumphtd  pngnmf 

I  cannot  be  precisely  determined,  but  bis  cruel  execuiion  waa  (he  HO* 
nieneemcnt  of  the  high  festivities,  held  by  Edward  and  his  yonof  tpiM 
at  Westminster,  lo  celebrate  the  conquest  of  unhappy  ScotUmd.* 
'  For  aeven  years,  at  lliis  juneture,  the  courts  of  King'*  Bench  and  die  Elfl* 
quer  were  held  at  York,  to  be  near  the  royni  court — VValaiaiAam. 
'  Among  the  iciuitf  noiicei  of  the  leiidenco  or  the  queen '■  oourt  at  Ihaitim' 
line,  lliere  is  in  tlie  household  book  of  EUlwarJ  La  pnymifat  of  rony  shllluipB 
John,  the  young  ton  of  John  the  boilis;  a*  boy  bishop  in  the  cbapal  of  Dw- 
fermline,  and  forty  ■hillingB  lo  Nicbolas,  the  valet  o(  Ihe  eorl  bT  CIsBt  H 
b'inging  the  news  of  ihe  dereal  of  Sir  Simon  Fnuei  and  William  Waltan;' 
KoppHsDWe,  by  Latimer,  Segrave,  and  Cliflbrd. 
*  A  iradilion  of  Carlisle  exist*  vhich  points  out  the  arch  of  the  otnle  piumwt 
U  the  spot  where  Wallaco  passed  a  night  manacled  in  hit  cart,  daring  his  WW 
proKreas  thnnigh  £ugland.  This  ciTcumelonca  favmirs  the  suppoaitioa  ibar  ^ 
was  brought  in  the  royal  train,  and  thai  room  could  not  be  round  in  Ae  tatOl  > 
'odga  the  fbrlom  pritonei. 
*  We  heit  subjoin  llie  commencnncDl  ot  i.  ifsat,  of  la^iOMsi 


MARaVBRtTE    OP    PHANCK.  115 

While  the  «trocirtua  execution  of  Wallace  was  perpetraled,  (lueen  Mur- 
goerile  and  her  eourl  were  making  preparations  for  the  grandest  limrna- 
■nent  e»er  celebmtej  in  Kngtanil  since,  aa  the  chronklere  declare,  tlie, 
daye  of  king  Anhur's  round  table.  On  new-year's  day,  1306,  this 
lournament  was  held  si  Westminster  Palace,  where  prince  Edward 
nceived  knighthood,  and  was  invested  with  Ihe  principaliiy  o(  Wales ; 
tirn  hundred  young  nobles  were  knigliled,  and  two  of  the  lung's  grand- 
dan^hters  inarried  or  beirothed. 

The  fesiivul  of  Si.  JoIid  the  Baptist,  the  same  year,  was  likewise  kept 
with  ^rand  ceremonial.  Among  ihe  parliamentary  rolls  we  meet  the 
loDowing  Tnnnoranda  of  this  event.  "  Thomas  de  Frowick,  goldsmith 
of  l.ondon,  pmya  king  Edward  for  the  payment  of  221.  lOj.  for  a  circlet 
of  fold  made  for  Marguerite  qtieen  of  England,  to  wear  on  the  feast  of 
Si.  John  the  Baptist"  This  goldsmith  had  previously  made  a  rich  crown 
for  the  queen,  and  by  the  orders  of  the  king  left  his  bill  with  John  de 
Chesm  and  his  fellows,  who  had  neglected  it,  and  being  injured  by  the 
delav,  he  prays  the  king,  in  1306,  "'  for  God's  sake  and  the  soul  of  hts 
ftiher.  kin^  Henry,  to  order  payment ;"  he  is  answered  "  that  he  may 
^e  his  bill  \n  the  King's  Exchequer,  adding  to  it  the  charge  for  certain 
caps  and  Taie«,  which  he  had  likewise  made,  and  the  clerk  of  the  Ex- 
chequer ihould  pay  him  440/.  in  part  of  his  bill.  Thus  we  find  that 
<|onn  Mir{^erite  was  prnvi(]«l  with  a  Rplenitid  state  erawn,  though  Bh« 
«■■  w.rer  crowned ;  a  ceremony  prevented  by  the  poverty  of  the 
<Miii  I  n  Marguerite  is  ihe  lir!<t  queen,  since  the  conqtiest,  who  was  not 
wleinnljr  crowned  and  anointed. 

Qucf-n  Mai^erile's  beanliful  sister,  Blanche,  duchess  of  Austria,  died 

',"■  riose  of  1305.     Early  in  the  succeeding  year,  prayers  for 

■-■-■  I'ommanded  by  king  Edward  lo  be  solemnly  observed  by 

'!■  of  Canterbury,  because  "she  was  the  dear  sister  of  his 

='  irl,  queen  Marguerite."     The  king  certainly  bore  no  malice 

r:-r  Qii^  [ifrlidy  of  his  fomier  love,  doubtless,  being  convinced  that  he 

ViJ  eliMnged  for  the  better. 

Pram  the  royal  household -books  may  be  gleaned  a  few  particulars  of 
ikt  English  court  arrangements  at  this  lime.  The  king's  state  ship  was 
oiled,  in  compliment  to  ihe  queen,  "  the  Margaret  of  Westminster  ;*'  it 
iotm  not  seem  a  ship  of  war,  but  a  sort  of  royal  yacht,  in  which  the 
kioc  made  his  voyages,  when  he  went  to  the  continenl. 

Ill*  queen  allowed  her  chief  minstrel,  who  was  called  Guy  of  the 
hoi  wry,  a  stipend  of  28«.;  he  rec«ived  bmtehe  of  court  (or  board  at 
CDVTt),  and  had  the  use  of  ihree  horsea  when  the  queen  was  in  progress 


I 
I 


Lbettl 


r  laos. 


iraie  Ibe  Mvago  and  unjust  muidi 
of  their  uncomli  spelling. 
— From  ihe  Harli  *      '"" 


lib  leil«n  and  with  Efvei, 
Vkliace  wai  j  drawn, 
From  ibe  Tower  of  London, 
Thai  Dianjr  might  know  ; 
In  ■  kirtls  at  bonel,* 

'CoatTM  ciDtb. 


I  spelling.     Ii  if  ■  ipBcimrin  of  Edj;-  ^^H 

lelnn  MSS.,  Tol.  61,  Bril.  MuMiun.  ^H 

Sclcoulli  wise  ^^| 

Through  Chepe,  ^H 

And  a  gailand  on  hi*  hmul  of  lh«  ^^M 

□ewait  guiie.  ^^M 

«tb.  ^M 


r 

I 


I 


IIP  MABOUGItlTE    OF     FRANCS. 

Gu;  of  Paahery  ofteu  received  gratuities  from  king  Edward,  who  wis. 
as  well  OS  his  young  queea,'  o  lover  or  music  and  the  Bae  arts,  and  frv- 
quenlJy  encounigeil  their  professors,  as  may  be  seoii  by  diese  uiicla  of 
hi«  expeiulilure : — To  Meliorn,  ihe  harper  of  Sir  Jolm  Mauliaten,  fix 
playing  OD  the  harp  while  the  king  was  bled,  20*. ;  likewise  to  Waha 
Luvei,  the  harper  of  Chichester,  whom  ilic  king  found  playisg  on  \ai 
harp  before  the  tomb  of  Si.  Richard,  at  Chichester  cubearal,  61.  9i, 
To  John,  the  orgaoist  of  the  earl  of  Wareone,  for  playing  befoK  iht 
liiflg,  'iOs.' 

The  queen  s;«ve  birth  at  Woodstock,  in  the  thirtieth  year  of  her  boi 
baud's  reign,  to  her  second  son,  prince  Edmund,  who  was  afiervank 
the  nnforiunate  earl  of  Kent.  About  this  time  **  iwenty-eii  piecta  of 
dimity  were  giveu  out  liom  the  kind's  wardrobe  stores  to  maks  ijwio 
Marguerite  a  feaiher  bed,'  and  cushioua  for  her  cliarreite." 

Instead  of  finding  the  national  rolls  and  records  burdened  with  aauitt 
of  oppressive  esacliona  made  by  ilie  ijueen-consort,  aa  in  the  csar  of 
Cleanur  of  Provence,  it  is  pleasant  to  observe  tlutt  Marguerite^s  chontidJt 
kindness  pervades  these  memorials,  seen  by  few,  and  by  atiU  fewM  i|i- 
preciuted.  In  the  exchequer  rolls  exist  many  requlaitiuiia  Iron  ihi 
queen,  ordering  that  debtors,  for  fines  due  to  her,  may  be  panloBad  ite 
debts,  and  more  llinii  one  petition  '^  thai  debtors  of  her  dear  lord  it 
king  may  have  tine  extended  or  he  excused."  One  of  these  royal  N^ 
^cntiuns  is  curious,  and  proves  that  the  queen  and  her  two  Utile  MM 
Thomas  and  Edmund,  pievailed  on  king  Edward  to  panlon  their  dsv 
friend,  the  lady  Margaret  Howuj'd,'  a  debt  owed  by  that  lady  U  Ac 
crown. 

Aa  prince  Thomas,  liie  eldest  son  of  queen  Marguerite,  wna  oojyiii 

'UouieliolJ  Bwk  ot  EJw.  U  p[>.  7— S>5, 

'  Veij  ilifferenl  is  luiolher  euliy  in  Ibe  eipensei  or  the  iDUi)f-l»tiii(  haa 
■To  seven  women  meeiiiig  ihe  king  on  ibe  rotul  between  Gask  snil  ruiilsH 
and  singing  belbre  him  u  ihey  hod  been  BccuiKimeil  10  do  in  the  iiar  cf  tls| 
Alexander,  3>."  Small  in  proponion  ia  (lie  beneliuticia  Iwauweil  bif  III*  ^ 
quwing  Edward  on  thew  Saotch  songnreuw,  who  miobi  have  tuogHwIadMsai 
an  him  in  tlieii  dialect,  Ibi  auelil  tm  kosw  to  tliH  couuary,  Wbila  aoiM  Ml 
Mulpuue  had  aliainod  s«ne  d^tea  o(  perfeciion  in  Englaud  ai  tlut  tiniKO** 
aru  snd  Kiencei  were  in  a  tuange  slate  or  barbarous  i^iuiiaace.  Tbe  etrUM 
notice  of  lacdlcal  praoUce  is  to  be  lound,  at  ihi«  era,  in  ibe  I.alin  Work  nt  Oat 
desden.  pliyaiciaa  at  Ibe  oonrt  of  queen  Marguerite.  This  learned  dcME^fr 
(cribing  bis  traattnentof  prirkoe  Edward  in  the  amatl-pm,  Ihuaiteclarw  IiiBOidi 
of  pnciice:  "I  ordered  dia  prince  10  be  enveloped  in  soails)  eluih.  and  ibMU 
bed  and  all  the  liuaiture  of  bis  cbambcr  should  be  of  a  brigtil  rod  laltM 
which  practice  ool  odI/ cured  bim,  but  pievenled  his  being  marked."  Ibaalr 
good  luck  iljtui  good  maoBxeiocct ;  uuuedlj',  it  may  bo  luppoaisJ  that  Gativ 
dan  wUhed  Id  uare  the  red  i  nflammaiion  of  the  amsjl'pox  out  of  oousneaias^k 
hii  glare  of  scarlet  teBeciionsI  He  add>  in  hi*  Bon  Anglaiuia,  dm  "Imm^ 
the  Knit  or  Ihe  nobletl  bouse*  in  England  wiib  ihc  reil  sj-aif  m,  and  nads  pl^ 
cure*  nr  bIL"  In  this  cLildisb  *ta.te  was  the  noble  art  of  beBlingat  A*  lawlff 
Maicuchlo.  *  Houaehold  Book  t£  Edwaiil  I 

'"Hie  name  iiipelled  Bcmrarifia  the  French;  the  ordur  Was  aeni  Iiy  dit^n 
to  Ihe  baroni  of  (he  Exchequer.  (Madoi'i  Hiiiory  of  ihH  Exoboqisa.l  ^ 
Jad/  Margaie:  Howaid  was  a  widow,  and  Ihe  debt  soma  aopj^aU  tarn. 


XARGUSRITE    OF    FRANCS.  117 

years  old,  and  the  in&nt  Edmund  much  younger,  it  may  be  judged  who 
|>rofnpted  the  young  petitioners,  and  how  the  queen  must  have  made  the 
caresses  of  her  infants  work  on  the  heart  of  their  great  father. 

^  To  the  honourable  father  in  God,  Walter,  bishop  of  Chester,  trea- 
surer to  our  lord,  king,  and  father,  Edmund  son  of  the  king,  salutes  in 
;reat  love.  As  our  dear  lady,  madame  the  queen,  has  required,  we 
would  that  you  would  grant  to  our  good  friend  ma  dame  Marguerite, 
late  wife  of  Monsieur  Robert  llereward,  the  remission  of  her  debt. 
Written  at  Northampton,  June  15.^'* 

Prince  Thomas  and  the  queen  each  wrote  letters  to  the  same  efiect, 
that  their  good  friend  may  be  spared  her  payment  to  the  exchequer. 

Marguerite  of  France  is  the  first  instance  of  a  queen  consort  of  Eng- 
land, who  ventured  to  stand  between  a  mighty  Plantagenet  in  hui  wrath, 
and  his  intended  victim.  We  leam^  by  tlie  statement  contained  in  an 
act  of  pardon  by  Edward  I.,  that  Godferey  de  Coigners  ^  had  committed 
the  heavy  transgression  and  malefaction  of  making  the  coronal  of  gold 
thai  crowned  the  king's  rebel  and  enemy,  Robert  de  Brus,  in  Scotland, 
and  that  he  had  secretly  hidden  and  retained  this  coronal  till  a  fitting 
occasion,  but  that  these  treasonable  doings  had  since  been  discovered 
tod  convicted  by  the  king's  council.'^  No  doubt,  Godferey  the  gold- 
mith  would  have  been  dealt  with,  according  to  the  tender  mercies  shown 
to  Wallace  and  Eraser,  if  he  had  not  found  a  friend  in  queen  Margue- 
lile ;  ^  for,"  says  Edward  I.,  ^  we  pardon  him  solely  at  the  intercession 
of  our  dearest  consort.  Marguerite  queen  of  England.'^' 

The  citizens  of  Winchester  were  likewise  deeply  indebted  to  queen 
Haiguerite,  whose  beneficent  interference  relieved  them  from  the  terrible 
Consequences  of  king  Edward's  displeasure.  To  the  mayor  of  Win- 
chester had  been  confided  the  safe  keeping  of  Bernard  Pereres ;  a  hostage 
of  some  importance,  whom  the  city  of  Bayonne  had  delivered  to  the 
king,  as  a  pledge  of  their  somewhat  doubtful  loyalty.  Bernard  made 
his  escape.  On  which  king  Edward  stenily  commanded  his  sheriff  of 
Hampshire  to  seize  upon  Uie  city  of  Winchester,  and  to  declare  its 
liberties  void;  thus  reducing  the  free  citizens  to  the  state  of  feudal 
villeins.  The  mayor  he  loaded  with  an  enormous  fine  of  300  marks, 
«nd  incarcerated  him  in  the  Marshalsea  till  it  was  paid.  In  despair,  the 
Winchester  citizens  appealed  to  the  charity  of  queen  Marguerite.  She 
recollected  that  when  she  was  first  married  she  had  been  received  at 
Winchester,  with  the  most  affectionate  demonstrations  of  loyalty;  more- 
over, she  remembered  that  her  husband  had  given  her  a  charter,  which 
entitled  her  to  all  the  fines  levied  from  the  men  of  Winchester.  Armed 
\rith  this  charter,  she  went  to  her  loving  lord,  and  claimed  the  hapless 
Unyor  and  his  fine  as  her  pergonal  property.  Slie  then  remitted  half  the 
fine ;  took  easy  security  for  the  remainder,  and  set  the  mayor  at  liber^; 
nor  did  she  cease  pleading  with  her  consort,  till  he  had  restored  to  Win- 
chester the  forfeited  charters.' 

During  her  husband's  absence  in  Scotland,  queen  Marguerite  retired 

■  Folio  ii.  1048.  *  Rymer's  FcDdeia. 

Milner'i  Hiatoij  of  Winohester,  ftom  the  Trustel  MS. 

H 


I 


I 


118  HABCCERITE    OF    FRANCE.  ^| 

rorMcnriiy  lo  Winchester,  wherp  she  wsa  deserredly  belovfd;  (i^fufc 
gnre  birlh  lo  s  princess — her  ihinl.  bui  the  king's  Bixteeiiih  riiiW.  V» 
infunl  was  called  Eleanora,  afi^r  Edward^s  first  qucm  snd  htf  ditf 
dughter,  who  waa  deccawd  m  thai  time.    Shf  dird  in  a  fem  montiu. 

Before  king  Edward  rwiched  the  Scottish  bonier  he  fell  ill,  m  Barfi 
on  Sands.  He  gurrived  a  firvr  days,  till  the  prince  or  Wales  ramr  up 
with  the  remaining  forces,  time  enough  to  recfire  his  tasl  comnnftK 
which  breathed  implacable  fury  against  the  Scots.  The  dying  wamof, 
moreover,  commanded  his  son  "lobe  kind  lohis  little  brothera  Thoow 
and  Edward,  and,  abore  all,  lo  treat  with  respect  and  tenderiKM  b 
mother,  queen  Margneriie,"  While  Edward  1.  remained  unburwd,  IWi 
was  paid  by  his  treosorer,  John  de  Tunford,  for  the  expenses  of  the  nni 
widow.' 

*■  The  May,  queen  Marguerite,"  was  married  lo  Edward  in  hw  •pto- 
teentli  year;  notwiihstatuling  the  disparity  of  their  ages,  lh«  iari 
happily  during  a  wwilock  of  eiglit  years.  The  chroniclers  of  Enijluid 
record  no  fault  or  folly  of  queen  Marguerite ;  nothing  exists  to  cootik- 
diet  the  assertion  of  Piers,  that  the  was  "'  good  wiihoutra  lack."  aaJ  ■ 
worthy  successor  to  Eleanora  of  Cuaiille. 

Like  Adelicia  of  LouTnine,  the  queen  of  Henry  I.,  Sfargnerile  k'pl » 
chronicler  to  record  the  actions  of  her  great  lord.  He  was  itsmrd  Jfta 
o'  London,  (not  a  very  diatinciive  appellntioo  -)  but  a»  we  have  fim  a 
persona]  sketch  of  Eijward  in  his  youth,  we  add  a  portmit  of  hiM,ia 
advHnced  life,  drawn  tinder  the  superintendence  of  his  royal  widow. 

"  His  head  spherical ;  (this  is  the  serond  instance  in  which  w»hl« 
found  that  the  chroniclers  of  the  middle  ogea  notice  (be  funn  of  ite 
head ;)  his  eyes  ronnd,  gentle  and  dnve-like  when  plettsed.  bat  fiorn  H 
n  lion's,  and  sparkling  with  fire,  when  h«  was  distatbed ;  his  hsir  mf, 
his  nose  prominent,  and  rebed  in  the  middle ;  his  chest  brrwd,  luf  uat 
agiie,  his  limbs  long,  hie  feet  arched,  his  body  firm  and  fleahy,  boi  m» 
I'al.  lie  was  so  strong  Bad  active,  llial  be  coold  leap  inu>  his  iwldle  bt 
merdy  patting  his  hnnd  on  it.  Passionately  (bnd  of  hauling,  be  m 
ung^cd  with  his  dogs  and  falcons  when  n<M  in  war.  He  wfts  9cblna  JD, 
and  neither  lost  his  teeth  nor  was  his  sight  dimmed  with  ate.  He  n> 
temperate ;  never  wore  his  crown  after  the  coronation,  uiinking  il  i 
burdcD  \  he  went  about  in  the  plain  garment  of  a  citizen,  exoqkinf  m 
ilsys  of  festival."  "  What  could  1  do  more  in  royal  robes,  bther,  i^h 
in  this  plain  gabardine  Y"  said  Edward  once  to  a  bishop,  who  fBM»- 
strateil  with  him  on  his  aitire  as  unkingly,' 

How  so  elegantly  proportionetl  a  man  as  Edward  I.  came  to  be  •«■ 
named  Longahaaks  has  been  a  question  to  all  writers,  since  the  opmiif 
of  th«  stone  sareophagua  in  Westminster  Abbey,  when  the  body  o(  i*« 
great  warrior  and  legislator  was  found  of  just  and  fine  propoflions.  w^ 
out  any  undue  length  of  legi ;  his  stature  was  six  feet  two  rorbv,  &■• 
skull  to  heel.  Ji  appears  that  the  insulting  epithet,  Longshanks.  mi> 
tohriqitel  given  by  an  infensed  enemy,  and  first  took  its  rise  (na  » 
satirical  song,  sung  by  the  Scots,  when  Edward  laid  siegn  to  BctbhU 


HAKOIJESITE    OF    FRA 


119 

1  ot  Scoiland.'  Edwan)  In 
incensed  at  this  song,  ihal  when  iie  bod  slonneil 
Btmriek  he  puc  everr  living  soul  to  the  sword,  to  the  number  of  four 
thonssnd  persons,  in  this  siege  he  tUspIayed  the  fine  horsemanship  for 
which  he  was  noted. 

"  Wbni  did  kinK  Edwatdl 
r.'ei  lie  liud  none  like, 

Besides  this  steed  Bsysrd.  another  colled  Grey  Lyard  ie  celebralcd  in 
the  hdrons'  waT«,n  one  on  which  he  ever  «  charged  forward;"  likewise 
h>9  horse  Ferrauni,  '^  black  as  a  raven,  on  whose  back,  though  armed  in 
prooC  Sire  Edward  eould  leap  over  any  chain  however  high."*  No 
eheratier  of  his  day  was  so  renowned  for  noble  hoTsemanship  as  this 
most  accomplished  monarch.  Yel  it  is  certain,  that  b1!  which  finally 
ntnain^d,  from  his  ambiiious  war  in  Scotland,  was  the  insulting  tobriquet 
of  Lmfishanks. 

The  original  MS.  of  the  queen's  chronicler,  John  o'  London,  is  a  great 
cnnoaity.  li  is  written  in  Latin  on  vellum,  very  finely  and  legibly 
praaed^  and  ornamented  with  initial  letters,  illuminated  with  gold  and 
eokturs ;  the  centres  of  the  most  of  these  are  aafinished,  and  the  manu- 
■lipl  ilMlf  is  a  fragmenl.  The  de-scription  of  Edward's  pterson  is  accom- 
faiued  by  an  odd  representation  of  his  face,  in  the  midst  of  an  initial 
Inter.  The  features  bear  the  same  cast  as  the  portraits  of  llie  king ', 
tbrre  is  the  small  haughty  mouth;  the  severe  penetrating  eyes,  and  the 
long  straight  nose ;  the  king  is  meant  to  be  shown  in  glory,  but  the  head 
H  sorrouiided  with  three  tiers  of  most  suspicious -looking  flames.  Mow- 
CTCT.  such  as  it  is.  it  doubtless  satisfied  the  royal  widow,  to  whom  the 
»ofk  was  dedicated.  "  The  noble  and  generous  matron,  Margareia,  by 
the  gmcir  of  God,  queen  of  England,  invites  all  men  to  hear  these  pages." 
The  plan  of  the  oration  is  to  describe  the  doleful  bewailings  of  all  sorts 
mmI  eundilions  of  persons  for  the  loss  of  the  great  Edward.  Of  course, 
4m  lameniaiion  of  the  royal  widow  holds  a  distinguished  place  in  the 
te^mtmontUi.  it  commences  thus :  "  The  lamentable  commendation  of 
Harnreia,  the  queen.  Hear,  ye  isles,  and  attend  my  people,  for  is  any 
wBow  like  unto  my  sorrow  ?  Though  my  head  wears  a  crown,  joy  is 
Anut  fmm  me,  and  1  listen  no  more  to  the  sound  of  my  cithara'  and 
sifBiu.  I  mourn  ineeasantly,  end  am  weary  of  my  existence.  Let  all 
Mnkwil  hear  the  voice  of  my  tribulation,  for  my  desolation  on  our 


^ 


"Hunflte  king  Edwaid 


"  Wbal  wcniih  kiag  Edward  wiih  his  Ions  sbB"!^ 
To  wia  Berwick  with  all  our  unltuuUu, 
Gaei  pyke  him 
AnJ  when  he  has  hit, 
Gael  dike  him." 

[Jdditiimt  U  Botm  o/  GlMifrtlir.) 


I 


Meaning  the  chains  used  in  dcfeniii 


* 


I 


ISO  MARCLEKITE    OP    FRAKCE. 

esnh  is  comjJete."  •  •  •  The  queen's  chronicler  proceeds 
liie  lament  for  Saul  and  Jonathan ;  at  lengih  he  remeuiben  ibe  rojti 
Maiguerite  by  adding,  "  Al  the  Toot  nf  Edward'a  mounmeni,  with  m; 
little  fluns,  1  weep  and  call  upon  him.  Whoa  Edward  died,  all  ncs 
died  to  me." 

These  lamentationa  for  a  husband  more  than  seventy,  from  a  widow 
Iwenty-six,  seem  a  tilile  exaggerated;  yet  the  after>life  of  the  tojt 
Marenerile  proved  their  sincerity. 

Although  queen  Marguerite  appeared  in  pnblic  earlier  than  was  dmhI, 
for  the  etiquette  of  royal  widowhood  in  the  fourieeatli  cenluiy,  il  wm 
in  obedience  to  the  dying  comn»nda  of  her  royal  lord,  whose  heart  m 
«ei  on  a  French  alliance.  Soon  aftei  her  husband's  death  site  weal  to 
Boulogne  with  her  ^on-in-law,  and  assisted  al  his  marriage  with  bs 
niece  Uabellu. 

After  she  returned  lo  England  she  lived  in  reiiremeat,  spending  bit 
magniliceni  dower  in  acts  of  charity,  and  in  the  encouragemeat  of  U^ 
lorians  and  architects.  While  she  lived,  her  niece,  queen  k&bdb,  M  ■ 
virtuoua  and  respectable  life.  Marguerite  did  not  survive  to  aea  Ac 
infamy  of  this  near  relative,  or  the  domestic  wretchedness  of  her  W^ 
son,  with  whom  she  had  always  lived  on  terms  of  affection  and  aniisr. 

Marguerite  is  the  first  queen  of  England  who  bore  her  arms  with  ihoN 
of  her  husband,  in  one  scutcheon ;  lier  seal  is  aflixed  to  the  pwdoo  d 
John  de  Dalyeng,  which  pardon  she  liad  procured  of  her  aon-ii>-4aVt  il 
the  ninth  year  of  his  reign.  We  trace  the  life  of  this  beneficent  qiBifr 
dowager,  by  her  acts  of  kindness  and  mercy.' 

Qrieeo  Marguerite's  principal  residence  was  Marlborough  Casdl^M 
the  borders  of  the  forest  of  Saveroake ;  it  was  there  she  died  at  tJH 
early  age  of  ihirty-«ix,  on  the  14th  of  February,  1317.  King  Gdavri 
II. 's  household-book  has  the  following  entry  relative  to  this  evnit  "Sari 
by  the  King's  order,  to  be  laid  upon  the  body  of  the  laily  Mai){wnto 
late  queen  of  England,  by  the  hands  of  John  de  Hauled,  at  Msd- 
borougli,  the  Slh  of  March,  two  pieces  of  Lucca  cloth."' 

Also  at  the  place  of  its  final  destination,  the  Grey  Friar«,  vuions  olbe 
pieces  of  Lucca  cloth  were  to  be  laid  on  her  body,  at  the  expense  of  ^ 
king.  She  was  buried  at  the  Grey  Friars  church,  the  magnificent  tn^ 
turn  which  she  had  principally  founded;'  her  body  was  buried  bdiai 
the  high  altar,  wrapped  in  the  convenlutd  robe  of  the  Franciseaiu. 

The  splendid  monument  mised  to  the  memory  of  ihie  * 

■ThcM-al  is  of  ted  Wi 
own  Qciu-de-lis  on  llie  I 
lizBui-e.— See  Saad/ard,  p.  130. 

*  LuTftt  cloth  was  tLD  ItaliBn  mBnnfBctuieorsitk  itriped  with  Bold  ;  oaajraM 
moTMlolha  were  proTid»d  by  Edward  11^  lo  ihow  his  respect  for  hi*  ilsp  !■■>' 
er'*  luetDorjr.  Tbese  rich  palli  were  tlic  fee*  of  the  offiaiaiiag  prion,  al  VKf 
ottuich  where  the  royal  corpse  rested  on  iu  piogien  to  its  place  of  Mpolna* 

•Stow.  Shebegau  ihectioii' in  130G,  and  finisbed  it  in  her  widowhmd.  Ai 
leR  by  bet  will  one  hundied  marks  to  this  church.  This  Ibundaliaa  is  ss* 
Clirist  Charch,  Newgate.     Part  o(  Maiguerite'i  origiml  buildinK  la  lbs  eloV* 


MAROrEBtTE    OP    FRATfCE.  121 

mtaun  tns  destroyed  by  ihe  acquiBJiifeness  of  Sir  Martin  Bowes,  lord 
BMyor,  in  the  rei^n  of  queen  Elizabeth,  when  the  Grey  Friars'  church 
was  mnde  parochial ;  he,  to  the  indignation  of  the  aniiquBry  Slow,  solil 
queen  Har^erite's  tomb  and  nine  others  of  royal  personages,  logeiber 
with  a  nnmher  of  grave-Btones,  for  fifty  pounds. 

Marguerite  left  her  iwo  sona  joint  executors  to  her  will.  Edward  I(. 
mpowered  his  dearest  brothers,  "  ThomoB  eiarl  of  Norfolk,  earl  marshal, 
nd  Edmund  erf'  Woodstock,  co-execulois,  by  the  testament  of  our  molher 
of  good  memory,  Marguerite,  late  queen  of  England,  to  execute  the  raid 
ttstament,  and  to  have  all  ^ods  and  chattels  that  belonged  to  the  said 
queen ;  and  all  her  com  on  her  manors,  whether  housed  or  growing 
green  in  the  earth;  from  the  14th  day  of  February  last,  when  she  died, 
1318.  They  are  to  receive  all  debla  due  to  the  queen-dowager,  and  pay 
what  she  owes,  according  to  her  will." '  The  troubles  of  the  reign  of 
Edward  IL  prevented  the  debts  of  the  widow  of  his  father  from  oeing 
paid ;  a*  we  find  the  following  petition  concerning  them.  In  the  eighth 
;nr  of  Edward  [II.,  there  is  a  petition  to  Parliament,'  from  Thomas, 
earl  of  Norfolk,  marshal  of  England,  and  executor  of  the  testament  of 
ifuepn  Mai^erite,  his  mother,  praying, "  that  the  king  will  please  lo 
gnmi  of  his  good  grace,  that  the  debts  of  the  deceased  queen  may  be 
fofthwith  paid  by  his  exchequer,  according  to  the  order  of  King  Edward 
IIt  whom  God  aasoil," 

Qiieen  Marguerite  is  Ihe  ancestress  of  all  our  English  nobUity,  bearing 
die  great  name  of  Howard ;  the  hononre  of  her  son  Thomas'planloge- 
net,  earl  marshal,  were  carried  into  this  family,  by  his  descendant,  ladv 
Mwgaret  Mowbray,  marrying  Sir  Robert  Howard.  The  Howards,' 
Aniugh  this  queen,  unite  the  blood  of  St.  Louis  with  that  of  ihe  mighti- 
f»  of  llie  Plantagenet  monarchs.  The  heiress  of  her  second  son,  £d- 
mnnd  earl  of  Kent,  married  first  Sir  Thomas  Holland,  and  then  Edward 
ib«  bl>«k  prince  :  through  her  this  queen  was  ancestress  of  tlie  nobility 
•ho bore  the  name  of  Holland;  which  family  became  extinct  in  tM 
■m  of  the  Roses. 

'IV(tianieauiT7  Bolls.  'Ibid, 

'Smna  of  i!ie  mon  iliualrious  chEiracters  among  rhe  English  nobility,  boih  u 
lURiti  anil  warriors,  bavo  belonged  id  tliis  ramil/.  Sii  disiiact  bnuicliea  of  iha 
dxal  ItmUy  of  Howard,  devendann  of  queen  Marguerila  and  Edwud  I.,  are 
inc.  Firstlj-,  the  Norlblk  line,  repteeented  by  Bemud  Edward,  duke  of 
Secondly,  the  elder  line  of  Sud^lk  and  Betk>bire,  repteieiiled  by  die 
t.  Greville  Howard,  heireis  of  Cnstio  Rising,  Lcven's  Hal],  &«.  Jbc 
M  jouDger  line  of  Suffolk,  icptesenied  by  Thorr.aa,  earl  of  Suffolk  and 
Fourthly,  the  Carlisle  line,  icpre«enled  by  George,  earl  of  Carlisle. 
I",  flje  Coiby  line,  whose  teptewnlBlive  wai  Henry  Howard,  otq^  of  Corby 
,  auUtor  of  llie  Howsid  MemoriBta,  Tb»  patriarch  of  the  Cailitle  and 
Coif  luancbea  wai  the  celablated  lord  William  Howard,  niinamed  "Belieb 
Will,"  grandaon  of  the  illuitriaui  Bail  of  Surrey,  bebeaded  by  Henry  VIIL  In 
a  of  Catliile  and  Corby.  Ihs  literary  lastea  of  their  renowned  anoeaun 
T«d.  SdiUily,  the  EfBngbani  tine,  whose  repreaenlatiTe  is  Kenneth  Alei- 
all  of  Efflnghaui,  ibe  dcsueadant  of  ihe  admiral  who  defeated  the 


I  «U«tauic. 

mtf-  ** 


1 


A 


ISABELLA  ^F  FRANCE,  1 

eUKNAMBD  THX  FAIB. 

QDEEH  OF  EDWAHD  II. 


I 


CHAPTER  i. 

InbellA)  paicnlafiK — Boilj  parenu  teig 

Itj  (lie  piiiuis  or  Waieii — Her  great  beiuly — Her  maniage — it 

— Sails  /or  Eugland  wiih  Edward  IL — Snintnoin  for  [adiei  ij 

DoTur — Her  wardrobe — Her  coronadon — PeBrt 

Sltgtiis  oSered  lo  Isibella — Queau'i  ooiiiplaiiil»— ReTFnues — Her  potmluitf— 

Her  jaaloua)'  of  Gaveilun — Ci*il  w>i — Queen's  charily — M»]nli»  poa  nl 

buoo* — fiirlh  of  he>  eldeit  too — Fieienu  lo  hei  KrTuiis — Qur«a(»>     t, 

Fraoce  wiih  the  king — Eeuim — Obtajna  ajuiiesty — Cunjagsl  happtni         "    ' 

of  her  eecond  aoji — Queen's  cliurcbing  robe — Birth  of  h«r  eldeii  A 

Gifta  ID  queen"a  nurse  and  aeivmita — Kings  grants  lo  Isabella— M— 

Ht  Brotherton — Roger  Mortimer — Queen ■(pilgrimageloCBnt.-ilMi-    — 

of  lady  Bedlesniero — Indignation  of  the  queen — She  exeitej   i 

Bircb  of  princeu  Joanna  in  the  Tawei— Queen  Isabella'*   rii   : 

wilb  Mortimer — Hei  influence  witJj  the  king — Mortinwi'a 

— Queeo'a  jealaugy  of  lite  Despenceii — Dt^priied  of  her  tevenuei — HtM  S 

^rrants  disiniBsed — Complaints  to  Uer  broitiei — EsUnngeuieiit  AT  It 

bobella  mediatrix  with  France. 


8t\CE  the  days  of  ihe  fair  and  false  ElTrida,  of  Saxon  celrf 
(jueeti  of  England  has  left  so  dark  a  slain  on  ihe  annals  of  fniia!« 
ally,  as  ilie  consort  of  Edward  II.,  Isabella  of  France.  Sh^  wai  ihi 
eleventh  queen  of  England  from  Ihe  Nomian  Conquest,  and  with  ibf 
exception  of  Judith,  the  consort  of  Ethelwolph,  a  prinr-ess  of  higbtr 
rank  ihan  had  ever  espoused  a  king  of  England.  She  was  ihf  ol^nis{ 
of  a  marriage  between  Iwo  sovereigns ;  Philip  le  BeJ,  kin^  of  Vnaa 
aiid  Jane,  queen  of  Navarre.  Three  of  her  brothers,  Louis  le  Hiitie< 
Philip  le  Long,  and  Charles  le  Bel,  successively  wore  the  royal  imAai 
of  France. 

Isabella  was  bom  in  the  year  1295,  and,  when  but  four  years  old,  he 
name  was  included  in  the  twofold  mairimonial  treaty  whicli  Ceot&tjit 
Joinviltc,  as  the  envoy  of  Edward  I.,  negotiated  between  iJist  aoMlit 
and  Ihe  princess  Marguerite,  sister  of  the  king  of  Fnutce,  uul  the  pliW 
»f  Wales,  with  the  princess  Isabella  his  dauirhler. 

By  the  marriage  articles  it  was  covenanted,  that  Philip  le  Bd  WifM 
give  his  daughter  a  portion  of  e^hlecn  thousand  nouDtls,  tai  itMit 
was  to  suecccd  lo  the  dower  which  Edward  1.  seitled  on  his  tHriiKll' 
ptinoeaa  Marguerite,  her 

(IB) 


^P  ISABELLA    OP    FRA!)CI.  123    ' 

A  9oleina  act  of  beiratluneiil  took  place  ai  Paris,  in  the  yrar  1303,' 
wlien  the  pope's  dif>pen«alioa  Tor  ihia  utiiou  was  publislied.  The  count 
of  Savoy  and  ihe  earl  of  Lincoln,  as  ilie  procuraiiire  of  Edward  piince 
ot  Waled,  affianced  the  youug  priucces,  on  hia  pan,  in  the  jiresence  of 
her  illiistiious  jwrenta,  Philip  IV.  of  France,  atid  Jane,  queen  of  Fmnce 
and  N'DTsrre.  The  lady  Isubella  received  the  Iroth  of  her  future  lortl, 
Ettwanl,  son  of  the  king  of  England,  from  the  hand  of  PereGJIl,  ilie 
archbishop  of  ITarboiine.  It  appears  tiiai  the  young  princess  signified 
her  assent  to  (he  /narrioge,  by  pulling  her  liand  iti  Iliat  of  Pere  Gill,  oa 
Cvndilion  that  all  the  articles  of  ilie  treaty  were  duly  performed.  She 
was  then  nine  years  old," 

Edn'ard  [.  was  so  ilesirous  of  this  alliance,  that  among  his  denih-bed 
injuncliona  to  his  heir,  he  charged  ikim,  on  his  blessing,  to  complete  hia 
cnngeinent  with  Isabella.  This  was,  in  truth,  the  only  command  of  hia 
dying  aire  to  which  Edward  II.  thought  proper  to  render  obedience. 
Such  was  his  haate  to  comply  with  a  mandate  whicli  happened  to  be  in 
accordance  with  bis  own  inclinatioo,  tliat  before  the  obsequies  rtf  his 
dee«a9n!  kine;  and  father  were  performed,  he  dispatched  the  bishops  of 
Durluuo  and  Norwicli,  witli  the  earls  of  Lincoln  and  Pembroke,  to  the 
court  of  France,  to  appoint  a  day  foi  the  solemnization  of  his  nuptials. 

The  i«i>ort  of  the  personal  cbarius  of  hts  intended  bride,  had  indeed 
(utdi!  so  lirely  an  impreEsioa  on  ihe  iiiitid  of  Edwud  II.,  iliai  he  is 
itpnwched  by  the  chroniclers  of  his  reign  with  having  lost  liie  kingdom 
nf  Scotland,  through  his  impatience  to  complete  his  marriage  with  her.' 
TTIvrn  he  was  apprised  that  all  the  arrangements  for  hia  marriage  wert 
OMicludcd,  though  perfectly  aware  that  his  recognition,  as  king  of  Scot- 
land, depended  on  his  remaining  there  till  tiie  importaut  affiiirs  which 
nqniird  his  presence  were  selued,  he  treated  every  consideiation  of 
puilical  expediency  with  lover-like  contempt,  and  hasted  to  the  fitlliU 
nent  «f  his  conimct  witli  the  royal  beauty-  There  was  the  lees  catise 
(or  such  unreasonable  liasle,  since  the  lair  Isabella  had  scarcely  com- 
j4etej  her  thirltieuih  year  at  the  time  of  her  espouBala. 

Great  preparations  were  made  at  Westminster  Palace  tor  the  reception 
of  ihe  young  queen.  The  loyal  apartments,  which  had  been  burnt 
down  in  the  preceding  teign,  and  had  been  rebuilt,  were  completed  and 
furnished',  the  gardens  were  new  turfed  and  Irelissed,  the  fish-ponds 
•rcn  drvwn  and  cleaned,  and  a  sort  of  pier  jutting  into  the  Thames, 
allrd  tlic  Q.ueen's  Bridge,  was  repaired.  The  royal  ship  called  the 
Xat^garct  of  U'ealniinsler,  woe,  with  her  boats  and  ba^s,  entirely  cleaned 
nd  bautiGed.  Various  butleriea  and  waidrobes  were  constructed  in 
the  «e«ei,  not  only  by  the  command,  but  according  to  the  device  of  the 
kiof  bimsetf,  for  his  expected  queen's  accommodation.'  After  appointing 
lii>  recalled  favourite.  Piers  Gaveston,  guardian  of  tiie  teahn,  Edwartl 
■lied,  early  on  Monday  morning,  January  22,  1308,  accompanied  by 
bia  molher-in-law,  queen  Marguerite,  to  meet  bis  bride.     He  landed  at 


I 
I 


■  Bf  luirr'i  F(e<l>i'rB,  vol.  ii.  p.  93S.  'Rymci'i  Frxdeta. 

•AiMwl*  ut  »l  Anguiun.     Baiiio.     WKUJngliaiD. 
■Sng'lejr  aod  BriiioD  s  Wauny  of  (be  Palace  of  Weitmiu 


iBuucu  ai  j 

L4,11«,M7.    ^J 


|u 


OF    PRANCE. 


I 


Boulogne,  where  Isabella  had  already  arrifed  with  het  myil  nifiili 
There  king  Edward  performed  homage  for  Guieniie  and  PoaUuey,W 
Itiiig  Philip. 

The  oeKt  day,  being  ihe  festival  of  the  Conversion  of  Sl  Paul,  (hi 
niipliab  of  Isabelia  and  her  royal  bridegroom  were  celebrated,  in  du 
famous  cathedral  church  ot  Boulogne,  with  peculiar  magniGccnoe.  Tom 
sovereigns,  and  as  many  qneens,  graced  the  bridal  with  iheir  pmeMt 
These  were  the  king  and  queen  of  France,  the  parents  of  the  hridcj 
Marie,  queen  dowagei  of  France,  her  grandmother ;  Louis,  king  of  S^ 
*arre,  her  brother,  lo  whom  queen  Jane,  their  mother,  had  rmigMiJ  ifie 
kingdom  she  inherited ;  the  king  and  queen  of  tlie  Romans,  the  kinf  of 
Sicily,  and  Marguerite,  queen  dowager  of  England,  IsabeUa^s  auiiL  Tim 
archduke  of  Auatria  was  also  present,  and  the  most  numerous  asaeniUy 
oi'  princes  and  nobility  thai  had  erer  met  together  on  such  an  octanOL 
The  dowry  of  the  bride  was  provided  from  the  spoils  of  the  hiplw 
Knighls  Templars,  who  had  been  recently  tortured,  plundered,  and  mtt* 
dered,  by  her  father.'  Like  most  ill-gotlen  gains,  this  mouey  bj  no 
means  prospered  in  the  spending. 

The  beauty  of  the  royaJ  pair,  whose  nnpiiala  were  celebrated  with  &a 
exiniordinary  splendour,  excited  the  greatest  odmiralion ;  for  the  bride- 
groom was  ihe  handsomest  prince  in  Europe,  and  the  precocious  chanu 
of  the  bride  hail  already  obtained  for  her  the  name  of  Isabella  the  Fsit.' 
^Vho  of  all  the  royal  and  gallant  company,  wimesses  of  tliese  espowib. 
could  have  believed  their  fatal  termination,  or  deemed  that  the  epitlMlW 
She-Woif  of  France  could  ever  have  been  deserved  by  l)ie  bride? 

High  feasts  and  tournaments  were  held  for  several  days  afier  dK 
espousals,  at  which  the  nobility  of  four  royal  courts  assisted.  Tlac 
festivities  lasted  nearly  a  fortnighL  Edward  and  Isabella  wcte  ni»oi«d 
on  the  3&th  of  January,  and  on  the  7th  of  February  they  embarked  hi 
England,  and  landed  at  Dover  the  same  day.  There  is,  in  the  Fiedni, 
a  copy  of  the  summonses  that  were  sent  to  Alicia,  the  wife  of  RofB 
Bigod,  earl  of  Norfolk,  the  countess  of  Hereford  and  other  noble  ladks, 
by  the  regent,  Piers  Gaveston,  in  the  king's  name,  appointing  tlieni  U 
be  at  Dover  on  the  Sunday  after  the  Purification  of  ilie  Virgin  Mary.  W 
receive  the  newly-wedded  queen,  and  lo  attend  her  on  her  prognM  te 
Westminster.* 

The  king  and  queen  remained  at  Dover  two  days,  where  Pter*  Ga- 
veston joined  lliem.  The  moment  the  king  saw  him,  he  flew  to  bin, 
fell  on  his  neck,  and  called  him  ■'brother^"*  conduct  which  gnul*' 
displeased  the  queen  and  her  uncles.  From  Dover  the  royal  parly  frtr 
ceeded  to  Elthara,  where  they  remained  till  the  preparations  were  eo*- 

?leted  for  the  qotonation.  Two  of  Isabella's  uncles,  Charle*  covoi  li 
alois,  and  Louis  de  Clermont,  count  of  Evreux,  brothers  of  PhiUp  1' 
Bel ;'  the  duke  of  Brabant,  with  the  grand  chamberlain  of  rraacc  tei 
many  other  nobles,  came  as  guests  to  the  coronation.     This  ceremuaitl 

■De  la  Moot.  p.  1.     bitjili  Miueum, 

*  Froisati  sayi,  aha  wai  one  of  lh«  gteateal  biantiea  in  the  woticL 


ISABELLA    OF    FRAIICE.  125 

K>aed  till  Quinquagesima  Sunday,  February  25th,  one  monUi 
nuptials  of  the  king  and  queen.  The  royal  circular  in  the 
ddressed  by  king  Edward  to  his  nobles,  in  which  ^  he  corn- 
er attendance  with  their  consorts  at  Westminster,  to  assist  at 
ition  solemnity  of  himself  and  his  consort,  Tsabellti  queen  of 

is  the  first  royal  summons  in  which  the  wives  of  the  peers  of 
re  included.' 

•ung  queen^s  outfit  was  magnificent'  She  brought  with  her  to 
two  gold  crowns,  ornamented  with  gems,  a  number  of  gold 

drinking  vessels,  golden  spoons,  fiily  silver  porringers,  twelve 
T  dishes,  and  twelve  smaller  ones.    Her  dresses  were  made  of 

silver  stuff,  velvet,  and  shot  tafiety.  She  had  six  dresses  of 
th  from  the  Douay,  six  beautifully  marbled,  and  six  of  rose 
isides  many  costly  furs.  As  for  linen,  she  liad  419  yards  for 
Jone ;  she  was  likewise  endowed  with  six  dozen  coifs — pro- 
btcaps.  She  brought  tapestry  for  her  own  chamber,  figured  in 
of  gold,  with  the  arms  of  France,  England,  and  Brabant. 
Dg  of  France,  on  the  occasion  of  his  daughter's  nuptials,  had 
imde  his  royal  son-in-law  a  profusion  of  costly  presents,  such 
,  rings,  and  other  precious  articles,  all  of  which  Edward  imme- 
sstowed  on  his  favourite.  Piers  Gaveston,  whose  passion  for 
8  insatiable.'  Such  conduct  was  peculiarly  calculated  to  excite 
•sure  of  a  young  girl,  and  Isabella  naturally  resented  this  im- 
amsfer  of  her  futher's  munificent  giAs,  which  she  regarded  as 
Bt  dower,  and  as  heir-looms  to  her  descendants, 
obles  took  occasion  of  the  anger  manifested  by  the  young 
ainst  the  haughty  fevourite,  to  signify  to  their  sovereign,  that 
iveston  were  banished  from  the  court,  they  would  not  attend 
Niching  coronation.  Edward,  alarmed  at  an  intimation  which 
amounted  to  a  threat  of  withholding  their  oaths  of  allegiance, 

that  everything  should  be  arranged  to  their  satisfaction,  at  the 
It  that  was  to  meet  directly  afier  his  inauguration. 
I  coronation  itself,  fresh  discords  were  engendered.  Thomas, 
sncaster,  the  son  of  Edward's  uncle,  Edmund  Crouchback,  bore 
or  the  sword  of  mercy,  and  Henry  of  Lancaster,  his  brother, 
I  rod,  surmounted  with  the  dove.  But  the  indignation  of  the 
iceeded  all  bounds,  when  it  was  found  that  the  king  had  assigned 
id  office  of  bearing  St  Edward's  crown  to  his  unpopular  fa- 
irho,  on  this  occasion,  was  dressed  more  magnificently  than  the 
I  himself.  This  gave  such  ofience  to  one  of  the  earls  of  the 
jral,^  that  nothing  but  the  respect  due  to  the  young  queen  re- 
turn from  slaying  him,  within  the  sacred  walls  of  the  abbey, 
rchbishop  of  Canterbury  being  absent  from  the  realm  at  that 

*•  FoDders,  vol.  iii.  p.  50. 

e  la  Bibliotheque  Roi,  vol.  xxxiv.    The  amount  is  stated  b7  M.  Raumefi 

79  livres,  but  the  articles  enumerated  would  have  cost  a  great  deal 

ess  the  Uvres  meatit  pounds  sterling. 

iw  of  Westminster.  ^  Mills.    OicM^. 

!• 


^crated  and  crowned  by  ibe  biilMp 


I 


k 


period^  ihe  kins  and  queen 
of  Winehfisier. 

So  gKat  wu  the  concourse  of  speclaiora 
many  serious  &c>^idenla  occurred,  through  ihc  eager  desire  of  the  |>nniU 
to  obtain  a  eight  of  the  beautiful  young  queen ;  and  a  knight,  air  Jooa 
Bakeweil,  was  Iroddcn  to  death. 

Gaveslon  had  laken  upon  hiineelT  the  whole  manageoieni  of  ibe  to- 
ronatioa  ceremonial ;  and  eithei  bis  arrangements  were  made  witb  iiule 
judgment,  or  liU  directions  were  perversely  disobeyed,  for  il  u-a*,fraai 
the  cegiuiiing  to  the  end,  a  scene  of  (he  most  provoking  coufumm  ui 
diaonlei.     Il  was  three  o'clock  before  the  consecralioD  of  ilie  kin;  ami 

3ueen  was  over;  and  when  we  consider  die  sbortncsa  of  ibe  wjoHl 
tys,  we  cannot  wonder  al  iJie  &cl  stated,  Lhtit  though  there  wu  abuK 
dance  of  provisions  of  everv  kind,  there  wad  not  a  morsel  served  upd 
the  queen's  table  before  darL'  The  lateness  of  the  dinner-hour  apinn 
to  liave  excited  the  indignation  of  llie  hungry  nobles,  more  ibM  ibj 
other  of  Gavesion's  misdeeds  that  day.  Tlie  banquet  w«s,  jtuxtant, 
badly  cooked,  and,  when  al  last  brought  to  table,  ill  served,  and  frw  ■/  I 
the  usual  ceremonies  were  observed,  for  the  want  of  the  proper  <ificai 
to  oversee  and  direct  In  short,  all  classes  were  dissadefied  and  ootif 
hiiinuur,  especially  the  queen,  on  whom  many  slights  nen  poSlS 
whether  out  of  accident  or  wilful  neglect  is  not  sl«ted.*  - ' 

Tlie  French  princes  and  nobles  returned  home,  in  a  j 
eiaeperation  at  ibe  alTrouis  which  they  considered  their 
received ;  and  Isabella  herself  sent  a  letter  to  the  king  ber  biher^i 
«omplaiiii«  of  her  lord,  and  his  all-powerful  favourite,  Gavesbig.* 
had  the  elTecl  of  inducing  Philip  le  Bel  to  slreu^hen  tlie  party  of  Iftr 
discontented  barons  against  Gtiveslon,  with  alt  his  miluence,  auil  gvn  a 
excuse  to  the  French  party  for  commencing  those  intrigiiea  wbjck  k^ 
niinated  so  fatally  al  last  for  Edward  II. 

King  Edward  was  at  that  time  in  great  pecuniar)-  disiresv,  lanf 
empiied  his  treasury  in  giltd  to  Gaveston,  so  that  he  had  not  irhMF 
wiiJial  to  pay  his  coronation  eipenaes,  nor  to  supply  his  household,  ii 
for  his  young  queen,  she  was  wholly  without  money,  which  cau«ed  hs 
great  uneHsiness  and  disconlenL 

Il  is  possible  that  if  Isabella  had  been  of  an  age  more  euitsUe  to  ^ 
o(  tier  husband,  and  of  a  less  haughty  temper,  her  beauty  and  tiloi 
might  have  created  a  counter-influence  to  that  of  the  Gascon  liinMn 
productive  of  beneficial  efTecis  ;  but,  at  the  period  of  his  nuiraiQiB' 
ward  was  in  hie  ihrec-and-tweniieih  year,  and  evidently  coaaidtMJ  * 
consort  who  was  only  entering  her  teens,  as  entitled  to  m  very  nttf 


'Tlir  king's  lint  ofleriog  was  a  poi 
Ving  iioldinj^  a  ring  in  hU  tnnd.  U 
(bnn  of  a  pilpira   pulling  Tonh  his 

"  ■   k.  U>  BiTo  it,for  ihis  dpTioB  repre  „....__ 

^■DDJTing  the  ring  Irom  Si.JuhD  tbe  ETmngduu  in  WbIUmid  _.»,....»  _. 
Haverins-bowsr  detJTetl  its  luuiia.     Tliit  *ery  ring  ii  declued  b}-  mdiUos 

.1 .:,^  ,i„g  1„,  prBMiil  majetir  reoeivMl  —  ' — — -  — 

'  WaJsingliatii. 


jnd  of  sold,  Auliioncd  Id  ihs  likt^MSf* 
is  second  was  (igUl  ooiwn  of  pM.  fa  A* 
liaad  lo  take  the  ring,  dt  raUwt.  wr  tttii 
•n\ed  tlio  IvKeitdor  E^witnl  tha  Cu^"* 


ISABELLA    OF    FRANCE.  127 

ihgrae  of  allention,  either  as  a  queen  or  a  wUe.  Isabelk  was,  however, 
pcnectJy  aware  of  llie  importance  oT  her  poaiiion  in  the  English  court; 
and  even  hail  she  been  as  childish  io  mind  as  she  was  in  age,  she  wae  loo 
eloMly  aUied  in  blood  to  the  greai  leadere  of  ihe  disamcted  jieers  of 
England^  Tlionias  earl  of  l^ncasier,  and  his  brother,  Uenry  earl  of 
Derby,  lo  rcinatn  quiescently  in  ihe  back-ground.  The  mother  of  the 
■bciTo^named  nobles,  Blanche  of  Artoia,  the  queen-dowager  of  Kuvarre, 
mw  l»bcUB''a  maternal  grandmother;'  consequendy)  ttie  sons  of  queen 
Btaache,  by  her  second  marriage  viiih  Edmund  earl  of  Lancaster,  were 
half-tinclea  to  the  young  queen,  and  resolutely  determined  to  act  as  her 
chuupioiia  against  Piers  Gaveston,  who  was  now  allied  to  the  royal 
family  by  his  marriage  with  Margaret  of  Gloucester,  die  daughter  of 
Edward^B  »i»ter,  Joanna  of  Acre.' 

Care»l(H]  was  not  only  the  Adonis  of  the  English  court,  but  remark- 

•Ue  for  his  knightly  prowess,  graceful  manners,  and  sparkling  wit.     It 

«»•  ihe  laticr  oualification  which  rendered  him  peculiarly  displeasiug  to 

the  English  nobles,  wliom  he  was  accustomed  to  deride  and  mimic,  for 

the  amuvetnent  of  his  thoughtless  sovereign ;  nor  was  the  queen  ex- 

unptMl,  when  he  was  disposed  to  display  his  sarcustic  powers.'     The 

gill*  of  the  tongue  are  those  which  more  frequently  provoke  a  deadly 

Trngesncfi  than  any  other  oDeace ;  and  Gaveslon's  greatest  crime  appears 

u>  have  been  Uie  fatal  propensity  of  saying  uiifo^veable  thln^  in  spott. 

'MU-Jla'a  father  secretly  incited  the  English  barojis  to  a  combination 

'^iiini  Gaveston,  which  compelled  the  king  to  promise  to  send  him  he- 

':]  setM.     Thia  engagement  Edward  deceitfully  performed,  by  making 

>  nceroy  of  Ireland,  which  country,  his  worst  enemies  own,  he  ruled 

HHii  (treat  ability. 

The  queen'a  pecuniary  distrcMeB  were  then  brought  before  the  lords,' 
Md  w  they  found  there  was  no  money  in  the  treasury,  to  furnish  her 
with  an  income  befitting  her  station,  the  revenues  of  the  county  of  Pon- 
ihirD  and  Monlrieul,  the  inheritance  of  the  kiug^s  mother,  were  appro- 
jinatcd  to  her  use.  The  king  specilied  as  his  wish,  "  that  his  dearest 
cooMirt,  babelU  queen  of  England,  shall  be  honourably  and  decently 
provided  with  all  things  necessary  for  her  chamber;  and  all  expenses 
for  jewels,  gifts,  and  every  other  requisite."' 

During  the  first  year  of  Isabella's  marriage  with  Edward  II.|  her 
fclber,  Philip  le  Bel  of  France,  appears  lo  have  acquired  some  degree  of 
n  tlw  councils  of  the  nation,  for  we  observe  several  letters 


'Miln'  Catalogue  of  Honour.     Brookei,  Spt-ni,  d»s.  &c. 

'The  huDos  were  uiaspeiated  hI  thii  marriage,  which  made  the  (hvoariie  Ed- 
*«fdi  DCiihewj  yiM  Ilio  eml  of  Gloucenlpr,  wbo  wa»  certainly  Ilia  poison  wliotn 
'*  OMwe  atnilj  concerned,  oa  he  was  the  young  laiifs  btoiber,  nppeaied  jwt- 
hcCf  mOtlted,  and  remained  Gavesuin's  lirin  friend ;  and  It  is  more  ibui  pto- 
baUe  ihu  iIm  lady  heitelf  wu  quiie  agieealrlo  lo  the  union. 

Walringbain.  *  Carte, 

■■Tbaratiiie  be  it  pleased  (o  assipi  the  tanda  of  Pniitbieu,  Ite.,  fur  het  me,  lo 
prDTtit*  Im  wilb  tucb  tbingi ;  and  be  directs  Richard  de  Snkeslie,  his  tenescbal 
tt  iIbU  pnrTiim,  10  give  ibe  depuiica  of  Ilie  queen  peaceful  posKSsion  of  Ilie 
"     Fmlm,  vol.  iii.,  May  Ulh,  I3B0. 


I 

I 
I 


196  ISABELLA    OF    FRANCS. 

in  Rymer'a  Fiedere,  from  Edward  to  his  ralher-in-law,  in  whi 
descends  to  expkin  his  conduct  with  regard  In  Gavestoa  t 
narch,  and  weakly  solicits  his  mediaiion  with  hia  turbulent  bi 

The  following  year  Gaveslon  took  occasion  lo  rclum  to  E  ^ 
attend  a  toumament  at  Wallingford.'  The  magnificence  of  bis  n 
and  the  great  number  of  foreigiiera  by  whom  he  was  BUrrouodDd.  aen 
to  increase  the  jealous  disple.asure  of  the  barons.  Gaveslon,  sceotrti 
to  his  old  practice,  retaliated  their  hostility  with  scornful  raillery,  taS 
fliit  occasion  bestowed  provoking  xobriquels  on  the  lenders  of  ibe  fi 
against  him.  The  earl  of  Pembroke,  who  was  dark,  (hin,  and  tJh 
complexioned,  he  calkd  "  Joseph  the  Jew ;"  the  earl  of  W«nrick,  m 
foomad  at  the  monlh  when  angrj-,  ^  the  wild  boar  of  Arttenne ;"  lad 
earl  of  Lancaster,  from  hia  acting  a  picturesijae  style  of  dm*, « 
Bia^  player  ;"*  and  in  like  manner  ne  characterized  the  rest  of  the  pn 
either  from  their  peculiarities  or  defects.  These  insults  wen  not  a 
treasured  up  against  a  fearful  day  of  reckonine,  but  had  the  tSM 
stirring  up  such  a  storm  in  the  court,  as  made  the  throne  of  hia  ro, 
mister  totter  under  him. 

The  queen,  her  uncle  the  earl  of  Lancaster,  and  all  the  huotmei 
England,  made  common  cause  against  Gaveston ;  and  Edward,  not  ufi 
lo  oppose  so  potent  a  combination,  dismissed  his  lavooirile  to  Gwmi 
At  parting,  the  king  lavished  on  Gaveslon  all  the  jewels  of  whidi 
was  possessed,  even  to  the  rings,  brooches,  buckles,  and  other  tiiali 
which  his  young  and  lovely  consort  bad  at  various  limea  presenMd 
him  as  tokens  of  regard.  Nothing  could  be  a  greater  proof  of  H 
than  such  a  proceeding,  which  was  sure  to  create  feelings  of  gritf 
resentment,  in  the  bosom  of  a  high-spirited  girl  of  fifteen.* 

Queen  Isabella  was  at  that  time  much  beloved  by  the  nation,  and  < 
hear  no  more  of  her  complaints  of  conjugal  infelicity,  till  the  ynrlSI 
when,  to  her  great  displeasure,  as  well  as  that  of  the  nobles,  ijii  ki 
recalled  Gaveston,  and  made  him  his  principal  secretary  of  state,* 

All  the  a^rs  of  the  realm  were  under  his  control,  and  no  one  en 
obtain  access  to  the  sovereign  except  through  him;  lie  wa«  aem 
withal  of  leading  the  king  into  a  reckless  course  of  dissipuioa,  n 
ofiensive  and  injurious  to  the  queen. 

Isabella,  not  being  of  a  temper  to  bear  her  wrongs  in  ailenca^  Wlfi 
remonatrated  with  Gavesion;  on  which  he  so  lar  forgot  the  rctpeei^ 

'Wal«in|^wm.  'Thoouu  V 

'Edwaiil'B  want  of  juilemenl  wa*  eiguollj  peireptible  in  al]   hit  ■ 
llMUGfailBH  proriuion  bnd  been  ilir  means  of  involving  bii 
nannEDU.  to  thai  he  win  pompelled  to  «enil  precepts  to  » 
of  hit  manors,  lo  raise  and  borrow  all  the  monej  ihej  could  fix  tliB  tt 
his  bouirbold.    When  tbsse  espedienis  feilod,  his  ai&irs  wiirv  bra^ 
his  parliunent  in  1310.     His  misconduct  wms  highlj  ceDsnrnd,  wl4fl 
refbrm  oammiHioii  was  Bpp<nnleJ.  to  restrain  hii  lavish  aapi    *' 
I'Ompel  htm  to  apply  hif  income  !□  the  paj'ment  of  his  debts  a 
iiaDCS  of  his  household,  and  otherwise  lo  circumscribe  tiis   i 

ar'>  n'l  barons,  who  were  called  ordainets. —  Waitiaghawi.  Brmdg, 
*  ItisIsJn^liBlD.    Bapiu.  '    ^^ 


ISAbELLA    OF    FRA?(CE.  1^9 

A  rank,  ta  to  make  a  conlempliious  reply ;  and  when  she  pas- 
.eoiui>laiiiri]  lo  the  king  of  the  affront  alio  had  received  from  liis 
kvouritei  E^divard  treated  it  as  a  matter  of  little  importance.  Ii 
rUenl  that,  at  this  period,  Isabella  was  only  considered  by  him 
■  t  child.'  Less  perilous,  however,  would  it  have  been  to 
and  provocations  to  a  princess  of  more  advanced  age  and 
iilgnienl;  for  Isabella  vented  her  indignant  feelings,  by  sendiJig 
it  detail  of  her  wrongs  to  her  father  the  king  of  France,  lo 
wrote  bitter  compUints  of  her  royal  husband's  coldness  and 
icribing  herself"  as  the  most  wretched  of  wives,  and  accusing 
of  beiM  the  cause  of  all  her  troubles,  by  alienating  king  Ed- 
gction  ^m  her,  and  leading  him  into  improper  company." 
dward's  letters,  at  the  same  period,  to  the  father  of  hia  queen, 
B  in  the  most  slavish  style  of  prostration,*  and  he  constantly 
turn  for  counsel  and  assistance  in  his  internal  troubles,  appa- 
BODScious  that  hia  "  dearest  lord  and  father,"  as  he  calls  the 
W  Philip,  was  the  secret  agitator  by  whom  his  rebel  peers  were 
disturb  bis  dreams  of  pleasure.' 

mmrkable  that  Isabella's  name  is  mentioned  but  once,  in  Ed- 
to  the  king  her  father,  and  then  merely  to  certify  "  that 
;ood  health,  and  will  (God  propitious)  be  fruitful.^" 
not,  however,  till  the  finh  year  of  Isabella's  roaniage  with  Ed- 
"  any  well-grounded  hope  existed  of  her  bringing  an  heir 
tnu  the  period  at  which  this  joyful  prospect  first  became 
WU  amidst  tlie  horrors  of  civil  war. 

i  of  I^ncaster,  at  the  head  of  the  malcontent  barons,  look  up 
ist  the  sovereign  in  the  year  1312,  in  order  to  limit  the  regal 
and  to  compel  Edward  to  dismiss  Piers  Gaveston  from  his 
Isabella  accompanied  her  lord  and  his  bvonrite  to  York,  and 
ir  flight  to  Newcastle ;  where,  not  considering  either  Gaveston 
'  safe  from  the  victorious  barons,  who  had  entered  York  in 
Sdward,  in  spite  of  all  her  tears  and  passionate  entreaties  to  the 
abandoned  her,  and  took  shipping  with  Gaveston  for  Scarbo- 
,The  forsaken  queen,  on  the  advance  of  the  confederate  barons, 
Tynemouth.  During  her  residence  at  Tynemouth  (!:astle, 
nployed  her  time  in  charity  and  alms-deeds :  of  this,  most  inte- 
[oence  appears  in  the  royal  household-book  for  1312. 
tt  V. — To  little  Thomeline,  the  Scotch  orphan  boy,  to  whom 
^  being  moved  to  charity  by  his  miseries,  gave  food  and  raiment 
oont  of  six  and  sixpence."  But  Isabella's  good  work  did  not 
feeding  and  clothing  the  poor  destitute  creature;  she  provided 
nra  wel&re  of  little  Thomeline,  for  we  lind  another  entry  : — • 
M  Mue  orphan,  on  his  being  sent  to  London  lo  dwell  with 
I  uriJe  of  Jean,  the  queen's  French  organist ;  for  his  educaiioni 
■hea  bought  him,  and  for  curing  hia  maladies,  tifiy-two  ahU- 
Bightpence."  

Mbiil. 


1M  ISABELLA    OF    PBAXCE. 

Willie  ihe  queen  remained  disconsolate  &t  Tynemouih,  LAnracter.vl 
had  got  posseflsion  of  Ifewcastle,  sent  a  ilepuiation  to  his  roni  niH 
"  with  assurances  of  her  safely,"  explaining  "  that  ihdr  sole  lAjecl  <t 
to  secure  the  person  of  the  favourilf." 

The  king,  meanlinie,  hering  left  Gaveston  in  the  suoag  (oiIumI  i 
Scarborough,'  proceeded  to  levy  forces  in  the  midland  counties,  fori 
defence.  The  indignation  of  the  men  of  the  north  of  EngUnd  hMl,  hoi 
ever,  been  so  greatly  excited  at  his  neglect  and  desertion  of  the  {pin 
wbQe  in  a  siiuation  which  required  more  t)mn  ordinary  sympathy  ai 
tendemeas,  that  ijiey  rose,  fit  imttse^  to  storm  her  adreraary  in  I 
shelter ;  and  Gaveston,  being  destitute  of  provisions,  or  the  nmn»  < 
standing  a  siege,  surrendered  to  Ihe  confederate  lords,  oit  cooditinn  i 
being  safely  condueled  to  the  king,  and  allowed  free  communicatii 
vith  hiro  previously  to  hiK  trial  before  the  parliament 

In  violation  of  the  articles  of  this  treaty,  wliich  the  earl  of  Ittnnr^ 
and  ttie  rest  of  the  confederate  barons  had  solemnly  sworn  lo  nhum 
Gaveston  was  brought  to  a  sliam  trial,  and  beheaded  at  Bbtcllow^i 
near  Warwick,  on  a  spot  which,  in  memory  of  the  tngedy  cotnoili 
there,  is  called  Gavesheod. 

The  barons  enjoyed  llie  extreme  satisfaction  of  ransacking  the  h^H 
of  the  luckless  favouriie,  where  they  found  many  of  the  croirn  jrnl 
some  articles  of  gold  and  silver  plate  belonging  to  the  king,  anil  »pa 
number  of  precious  ornaments,  which  had  been  presented  to  the  In 
by  queeu  Isabella,  his  married  sisters,  and  other  persons  of  hifh  nal 
There  is  a  minute  list  of  these  valuables  in  Rymer's  F>ndem,~uiil  |k 
catalogue  is  indeed  likely  enough  lo  have  excited  the  indignaiiun  of  ib 
jealous  peers,  who,  on  the  greeu  hill-side,  sat  in  relentless  jodgnail  (I 
Ihe  man  whom  the  king  deHghted  to  honour' 

ITol withstanding  her  avowed  hostility  against  Gaveainn,  then  v  n 
reison  to  suppose  that  Isabella  was  in  the  slightest  degree  irodiciB^ll 
his  murder,  though  his  misconduct  to  her  was  one  of  the  nio^ 
grounds  of  accusation  used  by  the  ear]  of  Lancaster  agsinst  him. 

When  Edward  received  the  tidings  of  the  tragic  fate  of  the  con" 
of  his  childhood,  he  was  transported  with  rage  and  grief,  and  di. 
his  intention  of  inflicting  a  deadly  vcngemice  on  Ihe  perpelruors  el  A 
outrage.  He  sullenly  wiilidrew  from  London  to  Cauterbury,  wmI  Cr^ 
joined  the  queen  at  Windsor,  where  she  was  awaiting  the  birth  of  M 
first  child.* 

This  auspicious  event  look  place  on  the  13th  day  of  TTortaibail 
forty  minutes  past  6ve  in  the  morning,  in  the  year  1312,'  wtwa  Udl 

'  (Gathrie.)  Oammoa  wm  mlten  vrry  ill  «  Neweaitie ;  far  ibaue  ;•  »a  MQ 
In  rbs  liMitetnia-tiaok  of  Edwvtd  IJ.— "To  ihuim  WiUub  da  BMnf^l 
pbj'siitian,  Ibi  hi*  atismlance  on  Sit  Piers  <)e  Uxmim,  ilniiag  lu*  BkMMWKV 
ciuilc-upon-Tyiuie,  two  pouiuli." 

'Among  oilier  fritolou]  chargeB  that  were  brought  a^nM  GavOHB  W 6l 
BMOciale  batons,  he  wru  accused  of  bring  ■' ihs  •ou  of  s  wiwb,"  and  oTteM) 
olnaiacd  bit  iuflurnce  ovrt  the  nund  of  his  nreteign  bj  ihe  {iraoiiM  of  HMff 
Hii  moiber  bad  bMn  mctnallr  butnt  for  tonerj  in  dueaiie. 
-  Wtlaio^iam.  'RrMt^  t 


'kfatitiQ 


ISABELLA 


RF    FRANCE. 


13t 


Hhe  efehteenih  year  of  her  age,  and  ihe  fifth  of  her  marriage, 
piaio  Ihe  world  the  long-ileairei]  lieir  of  England,  afterwnrda  that 
"  iwned  of  our  moaarchs,  Edward  HI,,  aumamed  of  Windsor, 
ilaee  of  his  binh, 

loom  and  gullen  sorrow  in  which  the  king  had  been  plunged 
the  death  of  Gaveslon,  yielded  lo  feelings  of  paleriial  rapture 
il  event,  and  he  testified  liis  approbation,  by  bestowing  an 
iges,  valet  lo  the  queen,  and  Isabel  his  wife,  twenty  pounds, 
llie  iame  on  them  as  an  annunl  pension  for  life.' 
Ibm  delighted  were  Isabella's  uncle,  the  count  of  Evreux,  and 
ibles.  who  were  then  sojourning  in  England,  at  the  birth 
infant,  who  was  remarkable  for  his  beauiy  and  vigoiir, 
ited  Ihe  king  to  name  the  young  prince,  Louis,  after  the  heir 
and  the  count  of  Evreux ;  but  the  idea  was  not  agreeable  to 
teeHngs  of  ihe  English  in  general,  and  it  was  insisted  by  the 
the  itew'bom  heir  of  England  should  receive  the  name  of  his 
ler  and  hia  renowned  grandfather,  Edward.  Four  days  after 
^  he  was  baptized  with  great  pomp,  in  the  old  chapel  of  St.  Ed- 
fte  castle  of  Windsor.' 

influence,  after  this  happy  event,  was  very  considerable  with 
hiuband,  and  at  this  period  her  conduct  was  all  that  was  pru- 
ible,  and  feminine.  It  waa  through  her  mediation  that  a  lecon- 
U  length  etTecied  between  king  Eklwsrd  and  his  barons,'  &nd 
restored  to  the  perturbed  realm.  Before  the  amnesty  waa 
queen  Isabella  visited  Aquitaine,  in  company  with  her  royal 
from  thence  ihey  went  to  Paris,  where  they  remained  at  the 
Philip  the  Fair  nearly  two  months,  enjoying  the  feasts  and 
which  the  wealthy  and  magnificent  court  ofFrance  provided 
entertainment.  Plays  were  represented  on  the  occasion,  being 
and  Moralitiea  for  amusement  and  admonition,  entitled,  "  Tlie 
the  Blessed,  and  the  Torments  of  the  Damned." 
fh  the  earnest  entreaties  of  the  queen,  the  long-delayed  pardon 
ihcd  hy  king  Edward,  October  13ih,  1313,  without  any  escep- 
id  the  rnyn]  deed  of  grace  expressly  certilics, "  that  this  pardon 
eion  is  gmnled  by  the  king,  through  the  prayers  of  his  dearest 
lit,  lubetla queen  of  England."'  The  parliament  met  amicably, 
ftaroHB  solemnly  made  iheir  submission  on  their  knees  to  the 
in  Weslrainster  Hall,  before  all  the  people.'  Soon  after,  llio 
Fvwick,  ihe  most  active  agent  iu  the  death  of  Gaveston,  dying 


l>Bay>l  PkIum. 

ivemuny  wsi  perfbtmed  by  Arnold,  midinal  piicit,  unci  the  ro;Bl  balw 
M  ibao  HVvn  Kodrallier* ;  namely,  RinUara.  bisbop  of  Poit-licni  John, 
'Bidi  ami  Weill ;  Wiltiwn,  bishop  of  Worcester )  Looii,  count  of  Ev 
!•  to  tilt  qn^Pii ;  John,  dulle  of  Brplaina  and  c«rl  of  Ricbmoiiil  i  Af- 
iaiciwe,  earl  of  Pombroke;  >ail  Hugh  le  d«  Spcncei;  but  there  is  not 
^Tona  lodniolher  rKordpd.  Afewdayaiifler  his  binh,  hit  fbnd  rather 
I  hi*  deMly-prixcd  heir,  his  new  and  blameless  Ikvourite,  the  ooiinljr 
L  M  ba  ImUI  by  bint  and  Lis  heirs  Tot  eveti  also  the  county  of  Flint. 
Mem,  vol,  iil. 

'  R/mer'i  Ftrdera. 


r 


I 


IS?  ISADGLLA     OF    FBAXCE. 

suddenly,  it  was  iiiiluBiriniisly  circulated  by  his  friends  Uut  he  had  bn 
taken  off  liy  pobon.  The  barons  niiBtrusted  llie  king,  tuid  qt]«8D  htf 
Iwlla  WHS  the  only  link  that  kepi  ihetn  rrom  open  war. 

The  year  1314  commeDccd  with  aeiiTe  preparations  on  the  pmnf 
the  kioj^  for  renewing  the  war  with  Scotland-'  Stirling,  so  appropniidf 
designated  by  the  chroniclers  of  that  stormy  era,  SiritreliTig,  wa«  thai 
besieged  by  the  energetic  Bruce,  and  it  was  for  the  relief  of  Uiai  unpon- 
BQt  posseiision  tlial  the  laggard  heir  of  the  conqueror  of  Scotlcotl  U 
length  crossed  the  Tweed.  He  met  with  a  decisive  overthrow  at  Bu* 
Dockbum.  Queen  Isabella  frequently  resided  at  York  and  Bniihi>ruin. 
lo  be  near  the  king  during  liis  nurihem  campaign.  In  the  ninth  i>f  U- 
ward  11.  an  information  was  brouglil  before  ihe  king's  rouocil  m  the 
exchetguer,  agaioal  Robert  le  Messoger,  for  speaking  irreverent  or  indr- 
cent  words  against  the  king.  He  was  tried  by  a  jury,  and  found  guiltvi 
for  some  reason,  however,  the  queen  induced  tlic  archbishop  c^  Ou- 
terbury  to  become  his  bail,  and  on  lliat  surely  he  was  reloMed  frm 
prison.' 

In  Ihe  month  of  September,  1316,  king  Edward  was  joined  bylw 
royal  consort,  queen  Isabella,  at  York,  who  had  remained  at  Elthim  for 
her  confinement,  as  there  is  an  entry  soon  after,  in  the  king's  houMbitU 
book :  ^'  To  sir  Eubulo  de  Moniibus,  for  bringing  the  first  news  la  lb 
king  of  the  happy  delivery  of  queen  of  her  son  John  of  Elilium.  £11^." 

There  is  likewise  a  reward  to  the  queen's  messenger  T  >< 
the  fiist  tidings  of  the  queen's  arrival  al  York.  Septemin 
queen  sent  costly  presents  to  the  new  pope,  John,  of  cnpi  - 
with  large  pearls,  bought  of  Catherine  Lincoln,  and  a  eopi'  > 
by  Bosia  de  Burford.  To  the  same  pope  qtieen  Isabella 
through  don  John  de  Jargemoc,  her  almoner,  of  an  inceitse  boat, 
and  a  gold  buckle,  set  witli  divers  pearls  anil  precious  stonu,  value  £901 

"  The  queen  sent  her  valet,  Goodwin  Hawtaine,  with  letien  19 
bishop  of  Norwich  and  the  earl  of  LaQCaster.  requesting  ihoai  10 
U>  Eltham  to  stand  sponsors  for  her  eon  John  j  his  travelling  c] 
were  sixteen  shillings.    John  de  Fonlenoy,  clerk  of  the  queen's 
received  one  piece  of  Turkey  cloth,  anil  one  of  cloth  of  gold  for 
ing  the  font  in  which  the  lord  John,  son  of  the  king,  w&s  ' 
Ellhani,  30th  August;  to  Stephen  Taloise,  the  queen's  iai|ar,wMaB' 
vered  fire  pieces  of  white  velvet  fur  ihe  making  thereof  a  ceruin  ttbl 
against  ihe  churching  of  the  queen,  after  the  birth  of  her  awii  son." 

The  birth  of  the  princess  Eleanor  look  place  in  1319.  The  boB^ 
hold-book  notes  the  king's  gift  of  £333,  •«  to  the  lady  Isabelh,  ^MP 
of  England,  for  her  churching  feast,  after  the  birth  of  the  fc^ 
Eleanora." 

There  are  likewise  notices  of  money  thrown  over  the  heads  d 

'Roben  Biui^e  slibwed   ao  iLighl  judgment  or  chancier  when  he  iliu*  qi^ 

I9l  belween  tiic  tint  Eilwsnl  of  England  and  iho  Miamd  Edni^ 

afruil  of  ihe  bonei  of  ihc  Tsiher  dead,  iltan  or  the  livinf  nu-,  m^ 

hjr  all  tlie  HinU.  it  wu   more  ,!ifficull  to  gel  half  a  foul  of  Innil  lh<m  HMtM 

king,  than  a  wholn  kingdom  fiDm  the  ton." — Jtallktm  ^  Wnit 


ISABELLA    OF    FEAMCB.  133 

firious  brides  and  bridegrooms,  as  they  stood  -at  tlie  altar — the  royal 
pair  were  present  at  their  marriages,  at  Havering  Bower,  Woodstock, 
ind  Windsoi^— and  for  money  given  by  the  orders  of  tlie  king,  at  the 
cbapel  doors.  Several  other  entries  afford  amusing  information,  respect- 
ing tlie  maoners  and  customs  of  Edward  the  Second^s  court  Vanne 
Bsllardi  for  pieces  of  silk  and  gold  tissue  of  fustian,  and  of  flame- 
eolonrecl  silk^  for  the  making  cushions,  for  the  charrettes  of  the  queen 
Md  her  ladies.  To  Robert  le  Fermor  (the  closer),  boot-maker,  of  Fleet- 
Mreti,  for  six  pairs  of  boots,  with  tassels  of  silk  and  drops  of  silver 
gill,  price  of  each  pair  &ve  shillings,  bought  for  the  king's  use.  Griffin, 
Ihe  son  of  sir  Griffin  of  Wales,  was  selected  as  one  of  the  companions 
of  the  yoonc  prince  Eldwaid,  afterwards  Edward  III.,  at  Eltham,  by 
Older  of  the  king. 

When  the  king  and  queen  kept  Twelfth-night,  their  presents  were 
magnificent :  to  the  king  of  the  Bean,  in  one  instance,  Edward  gave  a 
silver  gilt  ewer,  with  stand  and  cover,  and  anotlier  year,  a  silver  gilt 
bowl  to  match,  as  new  yearns  gifls.  To  William  Sal  Blaster,  valet  of 
the  count  of  Poictiers,  bringing  to  the  king  bunches  of  new  crapes  at 
Newbofough,  28th  (k  October,  10s.  Qjaeen  Isabella's  chaplain  was 
tnlhled  to  have  the  queen's  oblatory  money,  of  the  value  of  sevethpence^ 
Ndeemed  each  day  of  the  year,  except  on  the  assumption  of  the  Virgin, 
vhen  the  qveen  offered  gold.    To  Dulcia  Withstaf^  mother  of  Rol^rt, 


Ihe  king^  fool,  coming  to  the  king  at  Baldock,  at  Christmas,  ten  shil- 
yags.  To  William  de  Opere,  valet  of  the  king  of  France,  for  bringing 
dw  king  a  box  of  rose-coloured  sugar  at  York,  on  the  part  of  the 
nkl  king,  his  gift,  September  28th,  two  pounds  ten  shillings.  To  the 
hdf  Manr,  the  king's  sister,  a  nun  at  Ambresbury,  the  price  of  fifteen 
ptBces  of  tapestry,  with  divers  coats  of  arms,  bought  of  Richard  Hor- 
■laai,  mercer  of  London,  and  given  to  the  lady  Mary  on  her  departure 
ihini  court,  home  to  Ambresbury,  twenty-six  pounds.  To  sir  Nicholas 
de  Becke,  sir  Humphrey  de  Luttlebury,  and  sir  Thomas  de  lAtimer,  for 
dngging  the  king  out  of  bed  on  Easter  morning,  Edward  paid  twenty 
pounds.' 

Edward  II.,  in  1316,  bestowed  a  considerable  benefaction  on  Theo- 
phania  de  St  Pierre,  his  queen's  nurse :  besides  fifty  pounds  sterling 
money,  he  gives  this  person,  whom  he  calls  lady  of  Bringnencourt,  lands 
in  Ponthieu,  where  queen  Isabella  was  dowered.'  In  the  household- 
books  of  Thomas  Lancaster,  Stow  found  that  ninety-two  pounds  had 
been  presented  by  that  prince  to  his  royal  niece's  nurses  and  French 
servants. 

In  the  twelfth  year  of  his  reign,  Edward  II.  granted  to  his  consort 
iiebella  the  escuage,  belonging  to  him  for  the  army  of  Scotland  due 
from  the  knight's  fees,  which  the  queen  held  by  grant  for  the  term  of 
her  life. 

Edward's  disasters  in  the  north  were  succeeded  by  the  most 


'  Madoz.  '  Bymer'f  Fcsdra,  voL  iiL 

VOL.  II.—  1%  I 


dr«adfu1  famine  v 


SABtLLl.    or    PIAMCE. 

known  in  Enfflnni},  wtnoh  lui«d  for  netAy  QnM 
yoar»/ 

l*lip  king  nnil  qiiprn  krpi  their  conit  ■!  WMminfWr*  dunag  ibc  Whit- 
HuntiJe  remtii-al  o(  1317;  and  on  oae  onaiiuB,  M  iboy  wart  iliBinr  to 
public  in  the  grval  banquctiag-lMlt,  s  WomMa  in  •  milt  aBUnd  on  bon^ 
back..  Slid  riding  up  to  ihe  n>y«l  i»bk,  detivend  «  IsUer  u  dw  kJig. 
Edward,  imagining  thai  it  contkiiwfl  tomo  nlowiitt  eaneai  or  elqpM 
roiDplinient,  onleretl  it  tn  bo  npnni^  and  nsad  aktnd  (or  llie  unateaat 
n(  )>i»  rnuniera;  but  to  his  gmc  mintifiminu  tl  w<u  ■  cutuaf  aunw 
hi»  nnkingly  jirnnensiiirs.  wiun^  fiTth  tit  no  mewured  umM  ifl  ibp 
caluinilicti  whii^h  uii  iniHguvBrnnirQi  bai)  brou^tht  ujkhi  EagUad.  Tte 
woinau  waa  iniintd lately  taken  into  rnMoiIy,  nni]  wmfiwaBil  that  abt  !■! 
bei'n  employed  by  a  ccrinin  knight.  Thf  knight  biiliUy  adoMnrladgaJ 
what  he  had  done,  nnd  luiil.  ••  liiat  anppoaing  that  the  king  woahl  m 
thr  Inttrr  in  privatn,  he  tot^  liM  muthud  of  sppriatng  bim  a(  tba  «» 
plaints  nf  hi*  Kuhjeeu.'" ' 

Thu  following  year  Kobwt  Bruce  laid  viege  to  Berwick.  Quna  Sm- 
bella  accompanied  her  lord  Inta  the  tiurih,  and  while  b*  idnaeai  H 
Berwick,  she,  with  her  young  family,  look  up  her  abods  at  BwnhmWi 
the  former  residence  of  her  Utc  Btiim  qaem  MargwK.  Thk  V>* 
place  of  apparent  securiiy,  h  it  wu  nearly  a  hitiMU«d  nuka  feoN  tt 
ueene  uf  wtr:  vei  siie  nin  ninnMri  tn  n  Tirv 


ISABELLA    OF    FSANCK.  135 

It  was  in  1321  that  the  storm  gathered  among  the  lord  niaichers, 
rhich  led  to  the  barons'  wars,  and  brought  Isabella  and  Roger  Mortimer 
nto  acquaintance  with  each  otherJ 

We  now  come  to  that  eventful  period  when  Isabella  exchanged  the 
ywtW  character  of  a  peac&-maker  for  that  of  a  vindictive  political  agita- 
sr,  and  finally  branded  her  once-honoured  name  with  the  foul  stains  of 
dnltery,  treason,  and  murder.  The  circumstances  which  in  the  first 
istance  led  to  this  fearful  climax  of  guilt  were,  as  far  as  concerned  Isa- 
ella,  accidental. 

On  the  18th  of  October,  1321,  the  queen  set  out  on  a  pilgrinuigc  to 
be  shrine  of  St  Thomas  i  Becket  at  Canterbury,  and  proposing  to  pass 
he  niffht  at  her  own  castle  of  Leeds,  of  which  Bartholomew  Badlesmere, 
oe  of  the  Associated  Barons,  was  castellan,  she  sent  her  marshal  and 
(Dfveyors  before  her  to  announce  her  intention,  and  to  order  proper 
nangements  to  be  made  for  her  reception.' 

Badlesmere  was  absent  at  that  time,  and  being  deeply  involved  in  the 
reasonable  designs  of  the  earl  of  Lancaster,  had  charged  his  lady  to 
BBintain  the  castle,  though  it  was  a  royal  demesne,  being  one  of  the 
bwer  palaces  of  the  queens  of  England.  Lady  Badlesmere,  feeling 
ome  mistrust  at  the  real  object  of  Isabella  in  demanding  admittance  for 
lenelf  and  train,  replied  with  great  insolence  to  the  royal  messengers, 
•That  the  queen  might  seek  some  other  lodging,  for  she  would  not 
dmit  any  one  within  the  castle  without  an  order  from  her  lord.'' 

While  the  dispute  was  proceeding  between  the  hidy  Badlesmere  and 
he  pnrveyors,  the  queen  and  her  train  arrived  at  the  castle  gates,  and 
rere  received  with  a  volley  of  arrows,  which  slew  six  of  the  royal 
aeort,  and  compelled  the  queen  to  retreat  with  precipitation,  and  to  seek 
iCber  shelter  for  the  night* 

The  queen  complained  bitterly  to  the  king  of  the  affront  she  had  re- 
ehred,  and  entreated  him  to  avenge  the  murder  of  her  servants,  and  the 
Molence  of  lady  Badlesmere  in  presuming  to  exclude  her  from  her  own 
Bstle.^     Badlesmere  had  the  folly  to  write  the  most  insulting  letter  to 

'King  Edward  Yiad  married  hu  new  favourite,  the  young  Despencer,  to  hi* 
icat-niece  Eleanor,  one  of  the  co-heiresses  of  his  nephew  Gilbert  de  Clare,  earl 
r  Gloucester,  who  had  been  the  most  potent  among  the  lords  marchers  of  Waleis 
nd  ■  sort  of  lord  paramount  over  them  all.  The  warlike  Mortimers,  during 
le  long  minorities  of  the  two  last  earls  of  Gloucester,  had  taken  the  lead  among 
M  marchers ;  and  now  the  king's  favourite,  in  right  of  his  wife,  assumed  a  sort 
f  nipremacy  on  tlie  Welsh  borders,  and  prevailed  on  the  king  to  resume  the 
rmnta  of  some  of  his  late  nephew's  castles  which  he  had  given  to  the  Morti- 
icn.  Those  fierce  chiefs  Hew  to  arms  with  their  marchmen,  and  in  the  course 
fa  few  nights  harried  lady  Despencer^s  inheritance  widi  so  hearty  a  good  will, 
Mt  they  did  many  thousand  jwunds*  worth  of  mischief.  The  leaders  of  this 
Kploit  were  lord  Roger  Mortimer  of  Chirk,  and  his  nephew  and  heir,  lord  Roger 
fortimer  of  Wigmore,  who  luul  been  the  ward  and  pupil  of  Gaveston.  The 
Etimordinary  influence  of  the  younger  Mortimer  exercised  over  the  destiny  of 
le  queen  requires  these  few  words  of  explanation  as  to  the  origin  of  this  rebel- 
on.  '  Walsingham.  De  la  Moor.  '  Ibid. 
*  Leeds  Castle  was  a  part  of  the  splendid  dower  settled  by  Edward  L  on  queen 
larpuvt,  Inbella*s  aunt,  to  which  queen  Isabella  had  succeeded.     B!%wmn'% 


I 


I 


U6  ISABELLA    OF     FUAUCB. 

the  queen,  in  reply  to  the  coinplainis  that  hnd  been  nddremed  to  hioi  of 
biB  wife's  coDcliict,  expreBsing  his  entire  approval  of  what  site  had  doM 
Tliis  cunduct  was  aggravalei!,  by  the  fftct,  llint  Badlesmere  had  tvf^ 
lately  been  one  of  the  principal  officers  of  the  palare,  and  held  the  bigli 
BULtioD  of  steward  ti>  the  inyal  housoliutd,  before  Edward  gave  bin  iht 
appoinimoni  aa  caatellan  of  Leeds.  The  whole  iransaction  impUeewBe 
previous  peraonal  quarrel  with  the  queen.  Hilherlo  the  queou  bad  been 
on  the  mc«t  amicable  terms  with  the  bsroiu;  but  a*  neither  !  if i-" 
nor  any  of  the  associates  thought  proper  to  exprcae  any  tvprobstiaa  «f 
the  disreepect  witli  which  she  had  been  treated  by  their  cotOedentatibe 
determined  to  be  revenged  on  all ;  and  accordingly  represented  to  iht 
king  thai  if  he  raised  an  array  for  the  piupoee  of  besieging  Leeds  Cwtk, 
he  would  eventually  be  enabled  to  use  it  for  the  extenciou  of  his  kiniljr 
power.'  The  king  would  willingly  have  temporized,  but  Uie  haopiv 
Rpirii  of  Isabella  would  not  permit  him  to  delay  becoming  Out  iniiiwMl 
of  her  vengeance.  Edward  published  his  manifesto,  setting  (iMh  thf 
contempt  with  which  his  beloved  consort  Isabella  queea  t>f  Fflglairi  hid 
been  treated  by  the  family  of  Bariholomew  Badlesmere,  wbo  had  in» 
lently  oj^Kwed  her  in  her  desire  of  entering  Leeds  Castle,  Mid  that  ibi 
eaid  Batiholomew  Badlesmere  had  by  his  letters  approved  of  ihw  n» 
conduct  of  his  family,  in  thus  obstructing  and  contumelMmaiy  fraMlif 
tlie  queen,  for  wliich  cause  a  general  muster  of  all  persona  faetwvedlb 
ages  of  swleen  and  sixty  was  called  to  attend  the  king  iit  ao  e^tab^ 
against  Leeds  Castle."' 

A  large  force,  of  which  the  Londoners  formed  a  considerable  pottiuL 
was  quickly  levied,  for  the  queen  was  Llic  darling  of  the  tiatioa,  aajafi 
were  eager  in  avenge  even  the  shadow  of  a  wrong  that  was  otkni  M 
her. 

The  lady  Badlesmere,  who  was  uudoubiedly  a  nolable  vingO)  ami 
the  royal  threats  with  contempt;  and,  with  her  senescltal  Waller Cal» 
pepper,  defied  both  ihe  king  and  his  army,  wheji  they  appeared  bcDMlli 
the  walls  of  Leeds  Castie,  wluch  was  well  stored  with  proviaiona,  tai 
she  confidently  relied  on  receiving  prompt  relief  from  lite  aiti'rrt' 
barons.  In  this,  however,  she  was  disappointed,  for  the  earl  of  Imntn- 
ter  had  no  intention  lo  come  to  a  rupture  with  the  queen,  hia  n 
castle  of  Leeds  was  in  consequence  compelled  to  surrender  ai 
on  the  last  day  of  October. 

Immediate  vengeance  was  taken  by  the  king,  for  the  naitanli  am  tt 
queen  and  her  servants,  on  the  seneschal,  Walter  Colepeppot,  vIm,  wtt 
eleven  of  the  garrison,  were  hanged  before  the  castle  gataa.*  L^ 
Badlesmere  was  committed  to  the  Tower  of  London  aa  a  slate  IHWtmi. 
and  was  threatened  with  the  same  fate  tliat  had  been  iiUlichNl  cu  hv 
agents  :  but  it  does  not  appear  that  she  suHered  any  woim  poa^itf 
than  a  long  and  rigorous  imprisonment.*  With  all  their  bulta,  tbstii 
no  instance  of  any  monarch  of  the  Planlagcnet  line  paltinr  a  hdy  t* 
death,  for  high  treason. 


ItABBLLA    OF    PSANCE.  137 

Flmhed  with  his  success  at  Leeds,  King  Edward  recalled  his  banished 
.▼ourites,  the  two  Despencers,  whose  counsels  quite  accorded  with  the 
rerious  persuasions  of  the  queen  to  use  the  military  force  which  he 
id  levied  for  the  reduction  of  the  Leeds  Castle,  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
pessing  the  power  of  the  associate  barons.* 

Isabella  was  so  deeply  offended  with  the  barons,  as  the  allies  of  the 
•dlesmeres,  that  she  not  only  refused  to  employ  her  influence  in  com- 
oaing  the  diflerenees  between  them  and  the  king,  but  did  ererything  in 
er  power  to  influence  the  mind  of  her  lord  against  them.' 

Lancaster  was  taken  at  the  battle  of  Boroughbridge,  where  the  sove- 
ngn  fought  in  person  against  the  associate  barons,  March  16th,  1322. 
lie  earl,  and  ninety-five  of  his  adherents,  were  conducted  as  prisoners 
»  Poatefiaet  Castle,  where  the  king  sat  in  judgment  upon  him,  with  a 
nail  jury  of  peers,  by  whom  he  was  sentenced  to  lose  his  head.  The 
Been  was  not  aware  of  her  uncle^s  sentence  till  after  his  execution,  which 
M>k  place  only  a  few  hours  after  his  doom  was  pronounced.  Probably 
lis  indecent  haste  was  used  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  the  queen's  in- 
ircesaion  being  used  in  behalf  of  her  kinsman.* 

While  king  Edward  was  battling  the  rebellious  barons,  the  queen,  for 
realer  security,  took  up  her  abode  in  the  Tower.  In  this  royal  fortress 
lie  gave  birth  to  her  youngest  child,  the  lady  Joanna,  who  from  that 
irciimstance  was  called  Joanna  de  la  Tour.^ 

Some  time  before  the  birth  of  the  princess  Joanna,  the  two  Morti- 
lers,  uncle  and  nephew,  having  been  taken  in  arms  against  the  king, 
ren  brought  to  the  Tower  as  state  prisoners,  under  sentence  of  death 
nd  confiscation  of  their  great  estates.'  Roger  Mortimer,  lord  of  Chirk, 
le  nncle,  died  of  famine,  through  the  neglect  or  cruelty  of  his  gaolers 
I  fiiiling  to  supply  him  with  the  necessaries  of  life,  it  has  been  said, 
MMi  after  his  capture.  Roger  Mortimer,  the  nephew,  was  in  the  pride 
nd  vigour  of  manhood,  and  possessed  of  strength  of  constitution,  and 
nergy  of  mind,  to  struggle  with  any  hardship  to  which  he  might  be 
cpMed.  The  manner  in  which  he  contrived,  while  under  sentence  of 
ealh  in  one  of  the  prison  lodgings  of  the  Tower  of  London,  to  create 
0  powerful  an  interest  in  the  heart  of  the  beautiful  consort  of  his  ofllended 
svereign,  is  not  related  by  any  of  the  chroniclers  of  that  reign.  It  is 
oasible,  however,  that  Isabella's  disposition  for  intermeddling  in  political 
MCiers  might  have  emboldened  this  handsome  and  audacious  rebel  to 
btain  personal  interviews  with  her,  under  the  colour  of  being  willing  to 
ommnnicate  to  her  the  secrets  of  his  party.  He  was  the  husband  of  a 
'ranch  lady,  Jane  de  Joinville,  the  heiress  of  Sir  Peter  Joinville,  and 
raa  in  all  piobability  only  too  well  acquainted  with  the  language  that 
rwM  most  pleasing  to  the  ear  of  the  queen,  and  the  manners  and  refine- 
lenta  of  her  native  land,  which  in  civilization  was  greatly  in  advance 

*  WaJfingham.     Rapin.  'Ibid. 

*  Bnrtboloraew  Badlcsmerc,  the  primary  cause  of  the  war,  was  taken  at  Stow« 
^rk,  the  seat  of  his  nephew,  the  bisliop  of  Lincoln,  and  ignominiously  hanged 
t  Canterbury. 

*  La  Moor.    Walsingham.    Bayley's  History  of  the  Tower.    Brayley.    Brittoa^ 
itto.  *  Wal&inghani,  &c.    'D^Xvk'ttnat. 

19  • 


I 


138  ISABELLA    OP    FRAKCE. 

of  liie  bellicose  redm  of  England.  Be  this  M  it  may,  Moi 
reprieved  through  ihe  good  olRceB  of  some  powefful  ii 
the  king  commuted  his  sentence  of  death  into  perpetual  iinpruonmeni  in 
the  Tower.  Thia  occasioned  some  aslonisbnieni,  wlien  it  wu  rnnan- 
beted  thai  Mortimer  whs  llie  firel  who  had  commeDced  tlic  civil  wu  by 
his  fierce  attack  on  the  limds  of  Hugh  Dcspencer,  who  was  hia  twon 
foe,  and  who  at  this  very  time  hail  regained  more  than  hU  fonner  awij^ 
ill  the  councU  of  king  Edward ;  but  al  thai  time  the  influence  of  ik 
queen  was  pa  amount  to  any  other,  and  it  was  probably  on  this  ticcoitat 
that  the  deadly  feud  commenced  between  her  and  ilie  two  Deepeitctn, 
which  ended  bo  fatally  for  both.' 

About  this  period,  we  observe  the  following  precept,  addmwd  hj 
king  Edwaid  lo  his  treasurer  and  the  barons  of  the  excliet|uer,  fertbi 
aupply  of  hifl  own  and  hia  queen's  wardrobe. 

"EdWBid,  by  Ihe  grace  of  Cod,  tc,^.  Ik. 

"  We  comiD&ud  that  yt  provide  ainern  piecet  of  cloih  for  ibe  n)<ii«>eUin(  rf 
oarselvci  and  our  dene  coni|>aiiion,  alw  fuii,  agaiosl  Itie  next  koM  OtOttuiam 
and  thirteen  pieces  or  cloth  for  corsets  Toi  our  (aid  compsnion  Mail  bcr  lisinnli. 
with  nsping  linen'  and  other  thing*  or  which  wf  stand  in  need  af[«iBM  ibe  «U 
feMi ;  requiring  fmx  to  assign  to  William  Cassoncei,  the  clerk  of  cnir  wudnta 
one  hundred  and  ftfleeD  pounds,  in  suoh  manner  as  mnyohiaia  prompt  pa/MM 
of  iha  nme  for  llna  purpose. 

"  Given  at  Lsngief,  Ihe  10th  dny  of  Dwembor,  and  «(  out  reign  the  lAtk'* 

The  king  and  Isabella  spent  their  Christma.^  together,  and  it  is  proli^ 
thai  she  availed  herself  of  that  opportunity  of  obtaining  not  only  to  «■ 
conscinnable  nn  allowance  of  cloth  for  her  corsets,  but  a  rt^prieve  fra> 
death  for  Mortimer. 

In  the  succeeding  year,  1333,  we  6nd  the  lamdesa  border  chief,  fiov 
his  dungeon  in  llie  Tower,  organizing  a  plan  for  the  seiiure,  not  ait 
of  that  royal  fortress,  but  Windsor  and  Wallingford.  Again  iraa  ttoO^ 
nier  condemned  to  euifer  death  for  high  treason,  but  through  tlteagM<} 
of  Adam  Orleton,  and  Beck,  bishop  of  Durham,  he  obiaineil  «  mM. 
On  the  Ist  of  August,  the  same  year.  Gerard  Alspoye,  the  «atet  of  St 
grave,  the  constable  of  the  Tower,  who  was  supposetl  ta  b«  ia  »■ 
operation  with  him,  gave  the  men-ai-arms  a  sopoii£e  pi^tjoa  is  tin 
drink  provided  by  the  queen ;  and  while  the  guartis  were  asleep,  H<n^ 
mer  passed  through  a  hole  he  had  worked  in  his  own  prison  itua  lb 
kitchen  of  the  royal  residence,  ascended  the  chunney,  ^t  oti  Um  roc' 
of  tlie  palace,  and  from  thence  lo  the  Thames  side  by  a  l&dder  of  rap« 
Segrave's  valet  then  took  a  sculler  and  rowed  him  over  to  the  oppMK 
bank  of  the  river,  where  they  found  a  parly  of  seven  horaeiuen  pertuo- 
ing  to  Mortimer  wailing  to  receive  him.  With  this  gnanl  he  maik  Im 
way  to  the  coast  of  Hampshire;  from  thence,  pretending  to  aailwtb 
Isle  of  Wight,  the  boat  in  reality  conveyed  the  fugitives  od  boaidalqr 
■hip,  provided  by  Ralf  Bolton,  a  London  merchant,  which  wms  •ndnat' 


I8ABBLLA    OF    FRANCS.  139 

iff  the  Needier:  this  ship  landed  them  safely  in  Normandy;  and  from 
thence  Mortimer  got  to  Paris.* 

Edward  was  in  Lancashire  when  he  heard  of  the  escape  of  Mortimer : 
he  roused  all  England  with  a  hue  and  cry  aAer  him,  but  does  not  seem 
to  have  had  the  least  idea  of  his  destination,  as  he  sought  him  chiefly  in 
the  Mortimers'  hereditary  demesnes,  the  marches  of  Wales.' 

Directly  Mortimer  was  in  safety,  the  queen  commenced  her  deep-laid 
achemes  for  the  ruin  of  his  powerful  enemies,  the  Despencers,  whom 
she  taught  the  people  to  regard  as  the  cause  of  the  sanguinary  executions 
of  Lancaster  and  his  adherents ;  though  her  own  impatient  desire  of 
avenging  the  affronts  she  had  received  from  lady  Badlesmere,  had  been 
the  means  of  exasperating  the  sovereign  against  that  party.  Now  she 
protested  against  all  the  punishments  that  had  been  inflicted,  and  was 
the  first  who  pretended  to  regard  Lancaster  as  a  martyr  and  a  saint 

The  Despencers  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  the  same  sort  of  ascend- 
ancy over  the  mind  of  the  king  that  had  been  once  enjoyed  by  Gaves- 
*on ;  and  the  whole  authority  of  his  feeble  despotism  was  committed  to 
tlK^'ir  administration.  Their  first  act  was  to  curtail  the  revenues  of  the 
queen.  This  imprudent  step  afforded  Isabella  a  plausible  excuse  for 
declaring  open  hostilities  against  them.  No  one  had  ever  offended  her 
wiiliout  paying  a  deadly  penalty  for  their  rashness. 

She  perceived  that  she  had  lost  her  influence  with  her  royal  husband, 
durinff  his  absence  in  the  civil  war  in  the  north ;  and  though  it  is  evi- 
dent Uiat  an  illicit  passion  on  her  part  had  preceded  the  alienation  of  the 
king^s  regard  for  her,  she  did  not  complain  the  less  loudly  of  her  wrongs 
on  tJ»t  account ;  neither  did  she  scruple  to  brand  the  Despencers  with 
all  the  accusations  she  had  formerly  hurled  at  Gaveston,  charging  them 
with  having  deprived  her  of  the  love  of  her  royal  husband.'  There 
was  a  fierce  struggle  for  supremacy  between  her  and  the  Despencers^ 
dufiog  the  year  13;S4,  which  ended  in  the  discharge  of  all  her  French 
servants,  and  the  substitution  of  an  inadequate  pension  for  herself,  in- 
stead of  the  royal  demesnes,  which  had  been  settled  on  her  by  the 
king.* 

Isabella  wrote  her  indignant  complaints  of  tliis  treatment  to  her  bro- 
ther, Charles  le  Bel,  who  had  just  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  France^ 
declaring,  *^  that  she  was  held  in  no  higher  consideration  than  a  servant 
in  the  palace  of  the  king  her  husband,^'  whom  she  styled  ^  a  grippU 
miser,'*a  character  which  the  thoughtless  and  prodigal  Edward  was  very 
liur  from  meriting.  The  king  of  France,  exasperated  by  his  sister's  repre- 
■eolations  of  her  wrongs,  made  an  attack  on  Guienne,  which  afforded  an 

■  Rjrmer.    Baylejr's  HitL  of  the  Tower. 

**' Mortimer,"  says  the  chronicle  quoted  by  Drayton,  **  being  in  the  Tower, 
ordered  a  feast  for  his  birthday,  and  inviting  there  sir  Stephen  Segrave  constable 
of  the  Tower  with  the  rest  of  the  officers  belonging  to  the  same,  gave  them  a 
•leepy  drink  provided  him  by  tlie  queen,  by  which  means  he  got  liberty  for  his 
eecepe :  he  swam  tlie  Thames  to  the  opposite  shore,  the  queen  doubting  mnoh 
of  his  strength  for  such  an  exploit,  as  he  had  been  long  in  confinement" 

*  Walsingliam.    De  Ui  Moor.  *  WaUingham.    Rapin.    Speed. 

*De  la  Moor.    Speed. 
12* 


nB  ISABELLA      f>F     FRANCB- 

excnse  to  the  Despencere  for  advising  king  EJwanJ  to  deprire  Ibe  ipua 
of  her  last  possession  in  England,  the  earldom  '^f  Comn-nll.  Th«  kin( 
resamed  this  grant  in  a  perulinrly  disobliging  manner,  gning  the  qneni  lo 
understand  "  3iat  he  did  not  consider  it  mife  to  allow  any  pnttioa  «f  hi) 
tenitoties  lo  renjain  in  her  hand>i,  m  sh«  mainlained  a  n-oM  com- 
pondence  with  the  enrmies  of  the  stale." ' 

The  feuds  between  the  royal  pair  proceeded  to  raeh  a  htifhl,  ttnl 
Isabella  denied  her  company  to  her  lord,'  and  he  refiis«l  lo  cuine  wfcxr 
she  was*  The  queen  passionately  char^  lliis  eatno^nDent va  ife 
Despencers,  and  reiterated  her  complaints  to  her  broilier. 

Ki[ig  Charles  testified  his  indignant  stnoo  of  his  Mister's  tmioMnl.  )if 
de<-laring  his  intention  of  seizing  all  Lh(i  prarinrr^  hold  br  kiaglliwiri 
of  the  French  crown,  he  having  rcpeatrdly  sumnioned  fiiai  In  nJB  10 
perform  the  accustomed  homage  for  tlinn.  Rdward  vm  tioi  jftnmi 
lo  engage  in  a  war  for  their  defence,  and  neither  he  nor  hi*  aiouMi 
liked  the  aliemaiive  of  a  personal  visit  to  the  courl  nf  thp  bwMrf 
brother  of  queen  Isabella,  after  the  indignities  tlist  hhi  bem  altnt  to 

In  this  dilemma,  Isabella  herself  obliginglj  vottinteered  in  art  »  i 
mediatrix  between  the  two  monarchs,  providM  she  rnivhi  be  pi     '    ' 
lo  go  lo  Paris  to  negotiate  a  pacification.     Edward,  wnn  hMJ  a 
beni  extricBted  from  bis  DoUtical  diffietthjea  bv  dn  itiiiliiiwMiii  >■ 


ISABELLA    OF    FRANCE.  141 

The  propriety  of  the  queen  undertaking  the  mission  to  me  court  of 
nnce,  was  debated,  first  in  the  council,  and  afterwards  in  the  parlia- 
lent  which  met  January  21st,'  1325,  to  consider  the  af&irs  of  Guienne, 
hen  it  was  agreed  that  any  expedient  was  better  than  pursuing  the 
ar." 

A  hollow  reconciliation  was  effected  between  Isabella  and  the  De« 
KDcertf,  who  were  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  her  departure  from 
ngland ;  and  the  royal  pair  parted,  apparently  on  terms  of  the  most 
ftctionate  confidence  ana  good-will. 

Isabella  sailed  for  France  in  the  beginning  of  May,  attended  only  by 
le  lord  John  Cromwell  and  four  knights.  She  landed  at  Calais,  and 
-oceeded  to  Paris,  where  the  first-fruit  of  her  mediation  was  a  truce 
itween  her  brother  and  the  king,  her  husband.  She  then  negotiated  an 
nkable  treaty,  proposing  the  surrender  of  Guienne,  already  forfeited  by 
le  neglect  of  (he  feudal  homage  to  the  king  of  France,  which  was  to 
»  restored  at  her  personal  instances,  by  her  brother,  to  the  king  of  £ng- 
nd,  on  condition  of  his  performing  the  accustomed  homage,  and  remu- 
snting  the  king  of  France  for  the  expenses  of  the  war.  This  was  to 
ke  place  at  a  friendly  interview  between  the  two  monarchs  at  Beau- 


The  Despencers,  anticipating  with  alarm  the  great  probability  of  the 
aeen  regaining  her  wonted  ascendancy  over  the  mind  of  her  royal  hus- 
ind,  dissuaded  him  from  crossing  to  the  shores  of  France,  even  when 
is  prepatatioDS  for  the  voyage  were  completed.  Isabella,  who  was  well 
formed  of  these  demurs,  and  perfectly  understood  the  vacillating  cha- 
cter  of  her  husband,  proposed  to  him  that  he  should  invest  their  son, 
m  prince  of  Wales,  with  the  duchy  of  Guienne  and  the  earldom  of 
onttiieu,  and  send  him  as  his  substitute  to  perform  the  homage  for 
lose  countries  to  the  king,  her  brother,  king  Charles,  having  signified 
is  assent  to  such  an  arrangement,  in  compliance  with  her  solicitations. 
Edward,  fiir  from  suspecting  the  guileful  intentions  of  his  consort* 
igeiiy  complied  with  this  proposal;  and  the  Despencers,  not  being 
Msessed  of  sufficient  penetration  to  understand  the  motives  which 
ixnpted  the  queen  to  get  the  heir  of  England  into  her  own  power,  fell 
lo  toe  snare. 

On  the  12th  of  September,  1325,  prince  Edward,  attended  by  the 
ishops  of  Oxford,  Exeter,  and  a  splendid  train  of  nobles  and  knights, 
fled  from  Dover,*  and,  landing  at  Houloflie,  was  joined  by  the  queen 
s  motl^er  on  the  Hth,  who  accompanied  him  to  Paris,  where  his  firat 
terriew  with  the  king  his  uncle  took  place  in  her  presence,  and  ho 
srformed  the  act  of  feudal  homage  on  the  2l8t,  at  the  Bois  de  Vin- 


nnes.* 


'  Walsinghnm.     Public  Aou.  "Ibid.  'Rymer'i  Fcsdera. 

RTiner^i  F'sdeni. 

'Act  mftde  a*  the  wood  of  Vinccnnet  by  Edward,  (son  of  Edward  IL)  in  the 
eeenoe  of  tlie  queen  hit  mother  and  many  gmndeuA  of  England.     . 
\er  the  usual  formula  reKiirdin^f  tlio  homaffo  of  Guionue,  a  clause  is  added,  iu 
ete  words— ^ And  as  for  tlio  country  of  Ponthiuu,  according  to  the  protestation 
ide  by  msdaine  the  queen  of  England}  then  present,  the  homoL^  donA  \k^  ^« 


ISABELLA   OF  FRANCE, 

SlfRMAMED  THE  P.Mi. 
QUEEN   OF  EDWAED  U. 


CHAPTER    II. 

-Queen and  pitncerEcnlled  loEnglaiid — Hat  diiei.  _. 
&.nft  Edwd's  lelletB — BuoDS  invilc  but  lo  invwLe  EogUml— F«mklina«» 
Willi  Mordmer — ScBodrJ  ol  Ibe  Fiencli  court — Inobclla  Jiatniatad  bum  KbM 
-UvT  tiail  to  Haimiiili — Hei  Toj-iige  lo  Eiiglmiil — L»n(Ii — EniliiHluia  ii  M 
people — ProclamsiioD — Her  iriuinpbBl  progTOft^Caplurs  at  Am  \\tt~-lttr 
donrri  welcome  the  queen — Deporition  o{  EilwnnI  II. — Qi 
Seiiet  the  govenunent — Exorbjnuit  dower — H«r  bail  preTiemHl  hj  ■ 
tumuli — Murder  of  the  ting — Unbelln'i  peoHi  wilh  Saul*  "  " 
B  quBen — Her  vindiclive  dia|)o*ilion— Ji>l!i«»  of  Morti 


NoQia 


— IsabeJla'*  Dtecaationi — MorUmot  aJiaii  u 


ISABBLLA    OF     FRAKCB.  149 

igB,  and  urged  him  to  command  her  immediate  return,  with 
Wales.*  King  Edward  vainly  issued  his  private  letters  and 
•uses  to  his  consort  and  son  for  that  purpose :  his  most  per- 
;rs  were  disregarded  by  Isabella,  who  asserted  ^  that  it  was 
of  the  Despencers  to  cause  her  to  be  put  to  death  if  she 
Ingland :''  on  which  the  king  of  France,  her  brother,  wrote 
ird,  ^  that  he  could  not  permit  her  to  return  to  him,  unless 
iranteed  from  the  evil  that  was  meditated  against  her  by  her 
Despencers.''  * 

ard's  manly  and  eloquent  reply  to  this  letter  is  preserved 
lose  Record  Rolls  of  the  nineteenth  year  of  his  reign.  We 
om  the  ancient  French  copy,  printed  in  the  fourth  volume 
Tosdera : 

■AB  AVD  BILOVID  BBOTBIB, 

received,  and  well  considered,  your  letters  delivered  to  ns,  by  the 
ther  in  God,  the  bishop  of  Wincheiter,  who  has  also  discoursed 
>rd  of  mouth,  on  the  contents  of  the  said  letters, 
lat  you  have  been  told,  dearest  brother,  by  persons  whom  you  oon- 
f  credit,  that  our  companion,  the  queen  of  England,  dare  not  return 
Q  peril  of  her  life,  as  she  apprehends,  iVom  Hugh  le  Despenoer. 
;  brother,  it  cannot  be  that  she  can  have  fear  of  him,  or  any  other 
Um ;  since  par  Dieu  I  if  either  Hugh,  or  any  other  living  being,  in 
I,  would  wish  to  do  her  ill,  and  it  came  to  our  knowledge,  we 
9  him  in  a  manner  that  should  be  an  example  to  all  others ;  and 
rays  will  be,  our  entire  will,  as  long  as,  by  God's  mercy,  we  have 
.nd,  dearest  brother,  know  certainly,  that  we  have  never  perceived 
ither  secretly  or  openly,  by  word,  look,  or  action,  demeaned  him- 
than  he  ought,  in  all  points,  to  do^  to  so  very  dear  a  lady.  And 
Bmber  the  amiable  looks  and  words  between  them  that  we  have 
great  ftiendship  she  professed  for  him  before  she  crossed  the  sea, 
:  letters  which  she  has  lately  sent  him,  which  he  has  shown  to  us, 
>wer  to  believe  that  our  consort  can,  of  herself^  credit  such  things 
umot,  in  any  way,  believe  it  of  him,  who,  after  our  own  person, 
all  our  realm,  who  would  most  wish  to  do  her  honour,  and  has 
good  sincerity  to  you.  We  pray  you,  dearest  brother,  not  to  give 
y  one  who  would  make  you  otherwise  suppose,  but  to  put  yooi 
who  have  always  borne  true  wimess  to  you  in  other  things,  and 
)  best  reason  to  know  the  truth  of  this  matter.  Wherefore  we 
earest  brother,  both  for  your  honour  and  ours,  but  more  especially 
'  said  consort,  that  you  would  compel  her  to  return  to  us  with  all 
rtes,  we  have  been  ill  at  ease  ibr  the  want  of  her  company,  in 
e  much  delight ;  and  if  our  surety  and  safe  conduct  is  not  enough, 
me  to  us,  on  the  pledge  of  your  good  fiuth  for  us. 
intreat  you,  dearly  beloved  brother,  that  you  would  be  pleased  to 
s  EdMrard,  our  beloved  eldest  son,  your  nephew ;  and  that  of  your 
ion  to  him  you  would  render  to  him  the  lands  of  the  duchy,'  that 
{inherited,  which  we  cannot  suppose  you  wish.  Dearly  beloved 
ray  you  to  suffer  him  to  come  to  us  with  all  speed,  for  we  have 
iiim,  and  we  greatly  wish  to  see  him  and  to  speak  with  him,  and 
long  for  his  return. 

)f  the  Lord  Treasurers,  by  Francis  Thynne,  esq.,  in  the  collection 
Phillipps,  hart,  at  Middle  Hill. 

Walsingliam.     Rapin.     Speed. 
B»  which  the  young  prince  had  gone  to  Parit  to  do  bia  Vmbdbic^  "sft 


m 


"  And,  dearest  brother. 


le  thehonoi>TNt]leAlbrTtaGaa,WBMr. 


'-"» 


I  lanishHi  enemies,  and  we.  havnit  Ktvnt  ttaed  st  hwi 
enjoiiied  liiin  dd  his  iiwiii  anil  allef  iance  to  letuin  Ibitbwilii,  l^lrUif  tU  **« 
mstiera  io  Uie  beat  wnyhe  could.  We  pmy  foil,  Aetefoir,  lo  ewnua  dieiaUfl 
depanure  oftlie  etiict  bishop  for  the  chuk  t>efore  Eaid. 

■■  Given  at  We»(miinler,  llie  firsi  day  of  December  (ISSS)." 

Edwonl^s  letter  10  Isabella  herself,  on  [he  Mune  subject,  b  oravdindt 
lempeiaie,  but  evidently  written  under  a  deep  sense  of  uijmTi  aad  wA 
a  fonnal  courtesy,  very  dilTereDt  from  Uie  friendly  iui<i  eaoMaOai  ttjla 
ia  which  he  addtesses  her  brother,  aa  our  reaiivra  '    " 


I  Edwai 


D  Qc> 


•  I»»i 


"Onentiiaes  hare  we  sfiil  to  you.  both  before  and  al^r  the  hamate,  <rfi« 
grtnt  detirs  lo  have  you  with  ua,  bdJ  of  our  griof  of  tunti  iit  ymu  kmc  ah^lBt 
Bod  s«  we  undeiglniul  that  yaa  do  u)  giesi  muohief  by  tliw.  w«  wtU  ttalfM 
como  to  us  wiih  nil  speed,  and  without  fiiilbct  axcuaat, 

"  Before  the  homace'  wdj  peifuimeit,  you  mada  the  adraiioeninil  aC  AM  lan- 
neu  an  eiousa,  nod  now  tluu  we  have  sent  by  Cae  bonouiable  ladict,  lb*  biikif 
of  WiDOhealer.  our  attfe  cundual  lo  you, '  you  will  not  eome  for  U»  Am  aod  dnaM 
of  Hugh  le  Deapewerl'  whereat  wo  canDOt  marTel  too  muck,  vliaa  «*>  mS 
yooT  daiteri&fi  deponmeDl  towards  each  otbei  in  oai  pmcuce,  M>  uniiaM*  »ai 
tveet  was  youi  dapcRmenl,  with  s]>eelBl  nieuraneea  end  looktiaod  otbcf  nki* 


ISABELLA    OF    FRAJICB.  14$ 

Iter  to  Uie  prince  of  Wales,  written  on  the  next  day,  is  as 


T  DXAm  loir, 

I  are  young  and  of  tender  age,  we  remind  you  of  that  which  we  charged 
anded  you  at  your  departure  from  Dover,  and  you  answered  then,  as 
with  good  will,  *  that  you  would  not  trespass  or  disobey  any  of  our  lu« 
in  any  point  fbr  any  one/  And,  since  that  your  homage  has  been 
If  our  dearest  brother,  tlie  king  of  France,  your  uncle,  be  pleased  to 
leave  of  him,  and  return  to  us  with  all  speed  in  company  with  your 

80  be  diat  she  will  come  quickly,  and  if  she  will  not  come,  then  come 
It  ftirther  delay,  for  we  have  great  desire  to  see  you,  and  to  speak  with 
fbre  stay  not  for  your  mother,  nor  for  any  one  else,  on  our  blessing. 

at  Westminster,  the  2d  day  of  December." 

after  of  regret  that  the  replies  to  these  most  interesting  letters 
been  preserved  among  our  national  records ;  but  the  substance 
nay  be  gathered  from  tlie  following  uigent  and  touching  appeals* 
injured  husband  of  Isabella,  to  the  prince  their  son,  and  to  her 
he  king  of  France : 

ITABD,  TAia  soir, 

idersiand  by  your  letters  written  in  reply  to  ours  that  yon  remember 
iharge  we  gave  you  j  among  other  things,  not  to  contract  marriage,  nor 
t  to  be  contracted  for  you,  without  our  knowledge  and  consent  j  and 
It  your  departure  fVom  Dover  you  said,  *  that  it  should  be  your  pleasure 
ir  eommandments,  as  far  as  you  could,  all  your  days." 
on,  if  thus  you  have  done,  you  have  done  wisely  and  well,  and  accord- 
jr  duty,  so  as  to  have  grace  of  God  of  us  and  all  men;  and  if  not,  then 
It  avoid  the  wrath  of  God,  the  reproach  of  men,  and  our  great  indigno^ 
re  charged  you  so  lately  and  so  strictly  that  you  should  remember  well 
gs,  and  that  you  should  by  no  means  marry,  nor  euficr  yourself  to  be 
vithout  our  previous  consent  and  advice;  for  no  otlier  thing  that  you 
would  occasion  greater  injury  and  pain  of  heart  to  ns.  And  inasmuch 
IS  yxm  say  *  you  cannot  return  to  us  because  of  your  mother,'  it  causes  us 
isiness  of  heart  that  you  cannot  be  allowed  by  her  to  do  that  which  ia 
ral  duty,  and  which  not  doing  will  lead  to  much  mischief. 
Km,  you  know  how  dearly  she  would  have  been  loved  and  cherishedi 
1  timely  come  according  to  her  duty  to  her  lord.  We  have  knowledge 
of  her  evil  doings,  to  our  sorrow;  how  that  she  devises  pretences  for 

herself  from  us,  on  account  of  our  dear  and  faithful  nephew,*  H.  la 
r,  who  has  always  so  well  and  loyally  served  us,  while  you  and  all  the 
re  seen  that  she  openly,  notoriously,  and  knowing  it  to  be  contrary  to 

and  against  the  welfkre  of  our  crown,  has  attracted  to  herself,  and 
har  company,  the  Mortimer,  our  traitor  and  mortal  fbe,  proved,  attainted, 
Iged,  and  Aim  she  accompanies  in  the  house  and  abroad  in  despite  of  iiS| 
nm,  and  the  right  ordering  of  the  realm— him,  the  malefhetor*  whom 
ed  brother  the  king  of  France  at  our  request  banished  from  his  domi- 
3iir  enemy  I  And  worse  than  this  she  has  done,  if  worse  than  tkU  can 
itring  you  to  consort  with  our  said  enemy,  making  him  your  counsellor, 
openly  to  herd  and  associate  with  him  in  the  sight  of  all  the  world, 
great  a  villany  and  dishonour  both  to  yourself  and  ns,  to  the  prejudice 

r*i  Fcedera,  vol.  i.  p.  182. 

Edward  bestows  this  appellation  on  the  flivourite,  because  he  was  the 

of  his  great-niece  the  heiress  of  Gloucester. 

Iff  is  the  word  used  in  the  original  French  bj  the  inoftnuHl  kiii|^ 

L.  II.  — 18 


I!<ABELL\    OP    PSAHCE. 

.--'  V  '     .ill'.       '  '  -  .inii  L-usioms  cf  oui  mlm,  which  )FO>u« 

I:'  f' T  you  from  a  pan  whieb  is  to  shameful,  •ad  laf 

■    I  I  ■■■ s  in  loo  mnny  «-my».     We  Me  mn  pleued  wift 

:iL<i>ieT,DOT  for  BnyolheriOughi^utodiipItaHM. 

'   .    ".   I've.  luid  alUgiuiee  which  JDU  owe  lu,  uid  (natt 

11  LI- wiihoul  oppcMilion,  delay,  ot  anj  (btther  esca»i 

II r  'I r  ;  '-  '-'      "  "'  1''  lit,  'that  if  yaa  wi«h  lo  letorn  to  a>  th»  will  M 

II  II.  mill  |^ '- 11  '  ii"i  iiri'Ii^itmnd  Tbnlyour  uncle  ihe  king  denial  jo*  «sviM 
■111  uf  jipui  Hilc  (.pii.Ili.-i.  In  no  roannet,  then, either  Bn  jooi  iiiQ(bai,«B 
liri  itui.-|iy,  niLt  r<r  UN)-  othcc  cuiM,  delay  to  fome  to  ua.  Our  conrauidi 
'  ynuc  i^c-kI,  niid  I.ir  ymir  honoui,  by  Ihe  help  of  God.  Come  qnickly.  dm, 
Li  rLinlii-r  t'VviiF>'.  if  ya  wuuld  hare  out  bleuing.  and  aroid  oni  rrjmack 

<-  .'.IT  It  .~li  Til  iiiili'r  rill  tilings  for  Ihe  good  of  A«  dachy,  aad  om  <A> 

.1.-1 1    Hr.'Mi^iii'.  nnil  John  de  CioiDwell,  will  coma  in  j  iiiii  iiiaMl«ny, 

iir  »iii.  >ira|iii?ii  iim  againal  our  coaumndl,  for  we  hear  much  llml  JM 

liLiio  iiri1iMitrsy<pUt>i<i;bi  not. 

vrn  at  U-liii^lil.  ilii-  ISih  day  of  March.'" 

<ni  ilie  tenour  of  ihin  letter,  jl  is  evident,  that  Edward  II.  had  beta 
vd  iif  liis  iiiiwii's  rlantlesline  and  certainly  must  uaconslimiioMl 
?(liiii:s,  wiili  rt'Liiird   lo  coiilraciing  ilieir  son,  the  youthful  heij  of 


ISABBLLA    OP    FRAHCB.  147 

!•  ibr  withdrawing  from  us.  We  have  already  shown  yoa  tiat  what  the 
i  jou  ia,  taTing  your  reverence,  not  the  truth,  for  never  (lo  much  as  she 
ae  against  us)  has  she  received  either  evil  or  villany  from  us  or  £tom  any 
Neither  has  she  had  any  occasion  *  for  feints  to  support  herself  in  times 
nor  to  escape  from  worse,'  *  for  never  in  the  slightest  instance  has  evil 
lone  to  her  by  him;*  and,  since  she  has  departed  from  us  and  come  to 
hat  has  compelled  her  to  send  to  our  dear  and  trusty  nephew,  H.  le  De- 
r,  letters  of  such  great  and  especial  amity  as  she  has  been  pleased  to  do 
me  to  time  ? 

;  truly,  dearest  brother,  it  must  be  as  apparent  to  jrou  as  to  us  and  to  all 
imt  she  does  not  love  us  as  she  ought  to  love  her  lord ;  and  the  cause  why 
I  spoken  falsehood  of  our  nephew,  and  withdrawn  herself  IVom  us,  pro- 
leoording  to  my  thoughts,  from  a  disordered  will,  when  she  so  openly, 
asly,  and  knowingly,  against  her  duty,"  Slc.  Slc. 

B  king  Edward  passionately  repeats  the  same  observations  respect- 
tbella's  shameless  intimacy  with  Mortimer,  of  which  he  had  made 
the  preceding  letter  to  the  prince  his  son,  and  then  proceeds : 

fOQ  wished  her  well,  dearest  brother,  you  would  chastise  her  for  this  mis- 
ty and  make  her  demean  herself  as  she  ought,  for  the  honour  of  all  those 
tn  she  belongs.  Then  our  son,  dearest  brother,  is  made  also  by  his 
,  yonr  sister,  the  companion  of  our  said  traitor  and  £)e,  who  is  his  coun- 
a  delaying  his  return,  in  our  despite." 

le  requests  touching  Guienne  follow,  and  after  repeating  his  en- 
I  for  his  son  to  be  restored  to  him,  king  Ekiward  concludes  his 
B  the  following  words : 

1  that  jrou  will  be  pleased  to  do  these  things,  dearest  brother,  for  the 
'  God,  reason,  good  feith,  and  namral  (hitemity,  without  paying  regard  to 
It  pleasaunce  of  a  woman,  is  our  desire : 
"Given  at  Lichfield,  the  18th  of  March." 

r  this  letter,  Charles  le  Bel  is  said  to  have  looked  very  coolly  on 
Iter,  and  even  to  have  urged  her  to  return,  with  her  son,  to  the 
busband ;  but  Isabella  had  another  game  in  view,  and  had  gone  too 
e  felt,  to  recede,  without  incurring  in  reali^  the  perils  which  she 
fore  pretended  to  dread.  Her  party  in  England  had  now,  through 
alignant  activity  of  her  especial  agent,  Adam  Orleton,  bishop  of 
>rd,  become  so  strong,  that  about  this  time  she  received  a  deputa- 
om  the  confederate  barons,  assuring  her  ^  that  if  she  could  only 
,  thousand  men,  and  would  come  with  the  prince  to  England,  at 
•d  of  that  force,  they  would  place  him  on  the  throne  to  govern  by 
iduice.''* 

f  queen  had  already  been  very  active  in  securing  the  assistance  of 
enterprising  young  nobles,  and  soldiers  of  fortune,  who  were,  by 
ranasive  words  and  fair  promises,^  ready  to  attend  her ;  but  though 
d  conducted  her  preparations  with  great  secrecy,  the  Despencen 

le  sentences  marked  by  commas  are  evidently  quotations  fhmi  Isabella's 
ntations. 

h  le  Despencer.    Yet  the  deprivation  of  the  queen^s  revenue  was  a  sei  ioiifl 

its  restomtion  must  have  taken  place  directly,  or  the  queen  would  hava 

t  at  this  time  as  a  matter  of  eomplaint. 

singham.    Le  Moor.   Froissart. 


I 


^^  ISABELLA    OF    FRANCE. 

■had  information  of  tier  prucceiliii^»,  sni],  if  we  may  trusi 
of  Froissart,  iliey  circumvenlei]  ber,  by  the  skiiful  Jisuibulion  nf  toanm 
bribes  among  tbe  minisiers  of  the  king  of  France ;  nay,  he  even  guei  w 
far  as  lo  say  that  the  Drapencere  aJdreraed  tbeir  golden  argumciiu  to 
king  Cbarles  himself,  eo  siurcessfuUy,  thai  he  withdrew  his  cotniieiaan 
from  Itis  royal  aiaier,  and  forbade  any  person,  under  pain  of  pQiiithiDnii. 
lo  aid  or  assist  her  in  her  projected  invasion  of  Ctigland.'  Ua*  prqu- 
diced  liialorians,  however,  aiiribute  Uie  marked  change  of  king  CWlrv 
with  regard  to  his  sisler'a  cause,  lo  llie  scandal  which  her  oiidDguud 
passion  for  Mortimer  had  caused  in  his  court. 

Some  tmpresKion,  too,  might  have  been  made  on  the  mind  of  IinbdVi 
brother,  by  the  urgent  app^  which  her  luckless  huaband  about  tliii 
liuie  addressed  to  him,  in  the  following  letter : 
"Man  HUB  xsd  biiovid  aaoTBtB, 

"  Wo  would  wish  jTDu  10  icineiiibur,  that  we  have  ai  diSeient  timet  ngiiM 
10  you  by  our  Ielleri,!H>w  improperly  jrour  sister  our  wife  hai  coiiiliwlAt  boxd 
in  withdrawing  f^om  o»,  and  refusing  to  retarn  at  our  commani),  wUl>  Aa  w 
natorioiulj  hu  silacbed  10  her  oomjiany,  and  conaoiU  with,  oar  tnia*,  ti 
mortsl  enemf  the  HDiiiioer,  and  out  biMhet  eaemiu  thete,-BDd  bIhi  irabw  Efr 
wmfd  oar  ion  and  heir  mii  adhaienl  or  (he  sune  our  eneiaf,  to  oa*  gnat  ri^K 
and  UiBl  of  every  one  or  liet  blood ;  and  it  you  wiih  her  well,  ym  iiaiii^M 
for  your  own  honout  ami  ouii,  10  have  these  things  duly  radresx^d.'' 

Then,  after  reileraCing  hie  earnest  enlreatic*  to  his  royal  brotfag  l»h«. 
for  the  realoration  of  the  prince,  hia  son,  "who  ia,"  he  absem*,-^^ 
loo  tender  an  age  to  guide  and  govern  himself,  and  therefore  ought  lob 
under  his  paternal  care," — king  Edward  implores  him  to  put  his  ton  ii 
possession  of  the  before-named  duchy,  for  which  he  had  perfutaed  •( 
homage  as  stipulated,  and  that  without  dwelling  too  jiaruculaily  00  ik 
wording  of  the  covenant,  (which  had  evidently  been  designedly  taymiii 
by  the  contrivance  of  Isabella,)  he  adds  : 

"  But  tliesB  things  are  at  nothii^.  it  ii  Ibe  heidiog  of  oui  niil  wifc  a^  mm. 
wiiti  our  treitor)  and  iDonal  eapmies,  ihal  nolariously  cooIiDoaa  ;  iruemtt^  M 
the  laid  traitor,  the  Monimer,  wai  ea/tied  iu  Iho  train  of  oni  »i  " 
VI  Paris,  al  Ihe  eolemiuty  or  the  coronation  of  our  v«ry  .tcnr  ii^u 
i\ueen  of  Franco,  ai  Iha  rBWocoal  just  pasjeJ,  to  our  _■ 
of  us. 

"  Whereiiire,  dearsM  hraiher,  we  pray  you,  aa  1.  > . 
rigbu  and  bleHingi  of  peace,  and  ib«  entiio  ftieniinii.,' 
thai  yoa  wiil  o(  your  bsnevoleuce  ofleeUially  atletiil  i<< 
wo  ho  not  thiu  dishonoured,  and  our  son  disinherited,  wfjicL  w  .- 
you  Willi. 

"  Deareet  brother,  ymi  ought  to  feel  fijr  ns,  and  to  ahonld  all  iti 
Ifar  moeb  we  are,  and  much  we  have  been,  grieved  at  iho  ^^ 

gieal  injury  whi«h  we  Ibto  hi  long  rndored.     Nay.  verily,  t)rMb*r-i»Jn^ 
we  cannot  bear  ii  longer.     Tbe  Holy  lipirii  have  oharEe  al  you."' 

At  the  same  time,  in  the  month  of  June,  1336,  king  Edward  aaia  « 
fruitless  attempt  to  prevail  on  the  prince,  his  aon,  to  wiihdnw  hi*- 


^1  'Ryn 


ItABBLLA    OF    FRAHCB.  149 

bIT  froiii  the  evil  counsels  and  contumacious  companions  of  the  queen, 
lis  mother,  and  to  return  to  him.  This  letter,  like  the  preceding  cor- 
Bspondence,  affords  indubitable  evidence  how  accurately  the  nnfor- 
mate  husliand  of  Isabella  was  informed  of  her  proceedings  with  regard 
»  Mortimer. 

■^ESWABB,  PAIS  HOB, 

•  We  have  seen  by  your  letters  lately  written  to  us,  that  you  well  remembered 
le  cliarges  we  ei\joinod  you  on  your  departure  from  DoTer,  and  that  you  have 
N  transgressed  our  commands  in  any  point,  that  was  in  your  power  to  avoid. 
Dt  to  us  it  appears  that  you  have  not  humbly  obeyed  our  commands  as  a  good 
m  ought  bis  father,  since  you  have  not  returned  to  us  to  be  under  government, 
I  we  have  et\)oined  you  by  our  other  letters,  on  our  blessing,  but  have  noto- 
ously  held  companionship,  and  your  mother  also,  with  Mortimer,  our  traitor 
id  mortal  enemy,  who,  in  company  with  your  mother  and  others,  was  publicly 
urried  to  Paris  in  your  train,  to  the  solemnity  of  the  coronation,  at  Pentecost  just 
1st,  in  signal  despite  of  us,  and  to  the  great  dishonour  both  of  us  and  you :  for 
Q^  lie  is  neither  a  meet  companion  for  your  mother,  nor  for  you,  and  we  hold 
iBt  much  evil  to  the  country  will  come  of  iL 

**  Also  we  understand  that  you,  through  counsel,  which  is  contrary  both  to  our 
iierest  and  yours,  have  proceeded  to  make  divers  alterations,  ii^unctions,  and 
ndinances  without  our  advice,  and  contrary  to  our  orders,  in  the  duchy  of 
■wnna,  which  we  have  given  you ;  but  you  ought  to  remember  the  conditions 
^  the  gift,  and  your  reply  when  it  was  conferred  upon  you  at  Dover.  These 
lOigt  are  inconvenient,  and  must  be  most  ipjurious.  Therefore  we  comm9.«d 
id  chaige  you,  on  the  faith  and  love  you  ought  to  bear  us,  and  on  our  blessing, 
ml  you  show  yourself  our  dear  and  well-beloved  son  as  you  have  aforetime 
MM,  and,  ceasing  from  all  excuses  of  your  mother,  or  any  like  those  that  you 
ive  just  written,  you  come  to  us  here  with  all  haste,  that  we  may  ordain  lOr 
HI  and  your  state  as  honourably  as  you  can  desire.  By  right  and  n^sson  you 
Hht  to  have  no  other  governor  than  us,  neither  should  you  wish  to  have. 

"Also  Cair  son,  we  charge  you  by  no  means  to  marry  till  you  return  to  us,  nor 
iliiout  our  advice  and  consent,  nor  for  any  cause  either  go  to  the  duchy,  or 
sewhere,  against  our  will  and  command. 

*P.  S.  Edward,  fkir  son,  you  are  of  tender  age:  take  our  commandments 
nderly  to  heart,  and  so  rule  your  conduct  with  humility,  as  jrou  would  escape 
ir  leproech,  our  grief  and  indignation,  and  advance  your  own  interest  and 
moor,  fie  lie  ve  no  counsel  tliat  is  contrary  to  the  will  of  your  father,  as  the 
ise  king  Solomon  instructs  you.  Understand  certainly,  that  if  you  now  act 
nirary  to  our  counsel,  and  continue  in  wilful  disobedience,  you  will  feel  it  all 
e  days  of  your  life,  and  all  other  sons  will  take  example  to  be  disobedient  to 
eir  lords  and  ikthrrs." ' 

The  eril  influence  of  Isabella  prevented  the  paternal  remonstrances  of 
m  toywl  writer  from  having  any  proper  effect  on  the  mind  of  her  son ; 
id  it  should  seem  that  she  succeeded  in  persuading  him  that  she  was 
m  object  of  the  most  barbarous  persecution,  both  from  the  Despencers 
id  the  king,  her  husband. 

King  Edward  sent  copies  of  these  letters  to  the  pope,'  and  entreated 
M  interference  so  effectually,  that  the  pontiff  addressed  bis  censures  to 
baries  le  Bel,  on  his  detention  of  the  queen  of  England  from  her  royal 

'  Rynter*s  Fosdera,  vol.  iv.     From  the  Close  Rolls  of  19th  Edward  II. 

*  Rymer's  Fcsdera,  vol.  iv     F«vm  the  Close  Rolls  of  19th  of  Edward  If.    JPVob- 

rt.     Walsingham. 

13  •  jr 


I 


I 


I 

I 


'  f  Btf  ISABBLLA    OF    rRATTCB.  ^^ 

cnnsort,  and  pharspd  him.  under  ifie  nfrnattj  of  exeoinmtmication,  lo 
ili*nii««  both  Imbclln  and  licr  sun  li-um  ain  dotninioiis. 

*•  When  king  Charles  )uid  read  these  letiers,"  mvs  FroiMart, "  he  wu 
gmUy  (litlurtiedt  and  cinlered  hia  sister  to  be  inado  a(X(imini«d  wiili  their 
conieni«,  for  he  had  held  no  convprsaiion  with  hrr  for  •  Inn^  dme,  and 
commanded  her  tn  leave  his  kingilom  iimnediBiely,  or  be  would  make 
h*r  Invo  it  with  Khami'." ' 

■■  When  the  queen  received  ihis  angry  and  coniempluoua  mesaage  6tm 
her  brother,  she  wai  greully  troubled ;"  for  the  Freiicii  barons  hod  already 
withdrawn  iheinselvet,  either  a«  Froieaari  stales,  by  the  king's  roo- 
inands,  or  through  disgust  at  the  infaitialinn  of  her  condaei  wiiii  tr^atd 
to  Mortimer,  '^and  she  had  no  adviser  left  but  her  drar  coaein,  Robal 
d^Aftois,''  and  he  rould  only  asiisi  her  secretly,  since  the  king,  her 
brother,  had  not  only  coid,  b'ni  sworn,  -  that  whoever  should  i^«ak  ia 
behalf  of  bis  sister,  the  ijiieen  of  England,  should  forfeit  his  lanils.  ud 
he  banished  the  realm.''  Kotierl  of  Arlois  had  also  di:«corer^  that  a 
plan  was  in  agilaliun  for  delivering  queen  Isabella,  the  nrinee  her  fan, 
tlie  earl  of  Kent,  and  Sir  Ro^r  Mortimer,  to  king  Edwata.* 

"  Sir  Robert  Artois  came  in  the  middle  of  the  nighl  lo  want  liabelk 
of  the  |>eril  in  which  she  stood.  The  queen  was  struck  with  consiein^ 
lion  at  ibis  intelligence,  nnd  Artois  strongly  urged  her  to  enter  the  inf 
perinl  iciritoncs,  and  lo  throw  herself  upon  the  protection  of  some  of  d» 
independent  Gennan  princes,  especially  Willimn  earl  of  Hainault,  wiiose 
consort  was  Isabella's  6rsi  cousin. 

"  The  queen  ordered  her  baggage  to  be  made  ready  as  aecretlv  as  pos* 
■ible,  and  having  paid  everytMng.  (a  point  of  honesty  reconl«l  U>  ha 
credit  by  Froissarl,)  she  quilled  Paris,  wiili  .Mortimer;  and  arcompaaied 
by  her  son,  and  by  her  husband's  brother  the  earl  of  Kent,  who  hod  beeo 
altached  to  the  homage  deputation,  and  yitvi  at  this  time  decidedly  hrr 
partisan.     AAer  some  days  she  came  into  the  country  of  Camhny.     j 
When  she  fuund  that  she  was  in  the  territories  of  the  empire,  she  «■• 
more  ai  her  ease;  she  entered  Ostrerani  in  Hainault,  and  lodged  at  ibi 
house  of  a  poor  knight,  called  sir  Euslaee  d'Ambreti court,*  who  rcoeirtd    . 
her  with  great  pleasure,  and  enlerlained  her  in  the  best  manner  he  coidd,  I 
insomuch  that  afterwards  the  queen  of  England  and  her  son  invited  ibt  I 
knight,  his  wife,  and  all  his  children,  to  England,  and  advanced  tf  "' 
fortunes  in  various  ways." 

"  The  arrival  of  the  queen  of  England  was  soon  known  in  the  hnoM  j 
of  the  good  earl  of  Hainault,  who  was  then  si  Valenciennes ;  sir  Jehu,  ] 
his  brother,  was  likewise  informed  of  the  hour  when  she  alighted  tl  dx  \ 
house  of  the  lord  of  Ambreiieourt.  This  sir  John  being  ai  thai  liM  ( 
very  young,  and  panting  for  glory,  like  a  knight  errant,  inounied  Im  ^ 
horse,  and,  accompanieu  by  a  few  persons,  set  out  from  Valencienni*  i 
and  arrived  in  the  evening  to  pay  the  queen  every  respect  and  honmif-" 

The  queen  was  at  thu  time  very  dejected,  and  made  a  lamentable  ^ 
eomplainl  to  him  of  all  her  griefs ;  which  aflected  air  John  so  much  llu'  ' 
he  mixed  his  tears  with  hera,  and  aaid  : 


jtjimt 


'Vim, 


ISABELLA    OP    PRANCB.  151 

•*  Ladj,  PM  here  your  knighi,  who  wiil  not  fcil  to  die  for  you,  though 
erery  one  else  should  forsake  you ;  therefore  1  will  do  every  thine  in 
iBy  power  to  conduct  you  safely  to  England  with  your  son,  and  to 
rcMore  you  to  your  rank,  with  the  aHEisiiuice  of  your  friends  in  those 
parts ;  and  I,  and  all  those  whom  I  can  influence,  will  risk  our  lives  on 
ihe  ftdrcDture  (or  your  rake,  and  we  shall  have  a  BulEcienl  armed  forcr, 
if  it  please  God,  without  fearing  any  danger  from  the  king  of  France." 

The  queen,  who  waa  sitting  down  and  sir  John  standing  before  her, 
would  have  cast  herself  at  his  feet ;  but  the  gallant  sir  John,  rising  up 
(jnickly,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  said, 

''God  forbid  that  the  queen  of  England  should  do  such  a  thing! 
Madam,  he  of  good  comfort  to  yourself  and  compnny,  for  I  will  keep 
my  promise — and  you  shall  come  and  see  my  brother  and  the  countess 
his  wife,  and  all  their  fine  children,  who  will  be  rejoiced  to  see  you,  for 
1  have  heard  them  soy  so."  ' 

The  queen  answered  :  "  Sir,  I  find  in  you  more  kindness  and  comfort 
ihnn  in  all  the  world  besides ;  and  I  give  you  five  hundred  thousand 
Oianks  for  nil  you  hare  promised  me  with  so  much  courtesy.  I  and  my 
«m  shall  be  for  ever  bound  unio  you,  and  we  will  put  the  kingdom  of 
England  under  your  management,  as  in  justice  it  ought  to  be." ' 

When  Isabella  quilled  the  castle  of  Ambreiicourl  she  told  sir  Euslaee 
ud  his  lady, "  that  she  misled  a  lime  would  come  when  she  and  her  son 
Muld  acknowledge  their  courtesy.  She  then  mounted  her  horae  and 
)rl  ofTwiih  her  train  accompanied  by  sir  John,  who  with  joy  and  respoci 
tondncied  her  to  Valenciennes.  Many  of  ihe  citizens  of  the  town  came 
fart.*!  to  meet  her,  and  received  her  with  great  humility.  She  was  thus 
(onducted  to  William  count  of  Hainauli,  who,  as  well  as  the  countess, 
ifcrtvrd  her  very  graciously.  Many  great  feasts  were  given  on  this 
'iccasion,  as  no  one  knew  belter  than  the  counless  how  to  do  the 
Konours  of  her  house.* 

Queen  Isabella  remained  at  Valenciennes  during  eight  days,  with  the 
jTicd  count  and  his  couniess,  Joanna  of  Valois.  Then  the  queen  made 
rvery  preparation  for  her  depanure,  and  John  of  Hainsuli  wrote  very 
■j&ctionnte  lettera  to  ceitain  knight-companions,  in  whom  he  put  great 
ronlidcnre,  from  Brabant  and  Bohemia;  ■'beseeching  them,  by  all  the 
fnfndjhip  there  was  between  Ihem,  to  arm  in  the  cause  of  the  distressed 
tjurrn  of  England."* 

All  the  expediiion  gatheretl  at  Dort.  "Then  the  queen  of  England 
took  leave  of  the  count  of  Hainault  and  his  countess,  thanking  them 
much  for  the  honourable  entertainment  they  had  shown  her,  and  she 
kiw«d  ihem  at  her  departure.  Sir  John,  with  great  ditliculty,  ob- 
Iftinrd  liis  .ord  and  brother's  permission  to  accompany  Isabella.  When 
lie  took  leave  of  him  he  said, — ■  My  dear  lord  and  brother,  I  am  young. 
«ikJ  believe  that  God  has  inspired  me  with  a  desire  of  this  enterprise  for 
Inj  ■(Inuicemenl.  1  also  believe  for  certain,  that  this  lady  and  her  sou 
Imvp  beeo  driven  from  their  kingdom  wrongfully.  If  it  is  for  the  glory  of 
Oo<l  to  comfort  the  sfHicied,  how  much  more  is  it  lo  help  and  succour 


I 


■FraiMUL 


m^mm 


^ 


\SS  IfiABSLt.A    OF    PSAXCE. 

one  who  is  ilHughier  of  a  king,  ilearendeil  from  royal  LiDflage,  ui  H 
vrhow  blood  ive  otireelves  are  relit^ !  I  will  renounce  everything  taoi 
and  go  and  take  vp  ihe  cross  in  heathendom  b^-ond  sMa,  if  thi*  food 
lady  leaves  as  wiihoui  coinfon  and  aid.  But  if  you  grant  me  ■  wiHini 
leave,  1  shall  do  well,  and  accomplish  my  purpose.' " 

When  tlie  good  earl  heard  his  brother,  and  perceived  the  gnat  iktm 
he  had  for  this  eipedition,  he  said — 

■*  Dear  brother,  God  forbid  there  should  be  any  hiodetaoce  to  youi 
wiHJv  therefore  I  give  yon  leave,  in  the  name  afOuiJr"  He  thenkined 
him.  and  squeezed  his  hand,  in  sign  of  great  alTecliou. 

The  queen,  her  son,  and  suite  set  oS,  accompanied  by  air  Johiu  uhI 
went  that  night  to  Moos,  where  they  slept.  They  embuied  at  Bon. 
according  to  Froissnrt,  whose  account  of  their  voyage  and  Uadisg  o* 
the  terra  inargnila  between  Orford  and  Harwich,  is  so  marrelluiBii  thu 
we  have,  in  preference,  translated  the  authentic  and  circuinsttnual  duiiii 
of  the  chronicle  of  Flanders. 

f"  The  tieel  was  tossed  with  a  great  tempest,  but  made  the  pott  abo0 
noon,  when  the  ()ueen  being  got  safely  on  sjiore,  her  koigltts  aind  aOut- 
auts  made  her  a  house  with  four  carpets,  open  in  the  from,  when  ik^ 
kindled  her  a  great  fire  of  the  piecet  of  wreck,  some  o(  ikat  tkifl 
having  been  beaten  to  pieces  in  the  tempest;  meaatime  ibe  (IniA 
sailors  got  on  shore  before  midnight  all  tlie  horEei  and  arm.  Mid  ikai 
the  ships  that  Imd  survived  the  storm  sailed  (the  wind  being  btfoaattt) 
to  the  oppofkile  coast.  But  the  queen,  dnding  herself  ill  at  cam  «i  Ik* 
atomiy  sea-beach  thai  night,  marched  at  day-break,  with  buuMn  di^ 
played,  towards  the  next  country  town,  where  she  foimd  all  tbe  huiwi 
amply  nad  well  furnished  with  provisions,  hut  all  the  people  Aed." 

Tiie  advanced  guard  meantime  spread  themselves  over  th«  anuUj, 
and  seized  all  the  cattle  and  food  they  could  gel,  and  the  ownen  U- 
lowed  them,  crying  biiierly,  into  the  presence  of  the  quocn,  who  ukai 
them  "■  what  was  the  tair  value  of  the  goods  P"  and  when  they  nuwl 
the  price,  she  paid  them  all  liberally  in  ready  money.  The  people  wm 
so  pleased  with  this  conduct,  that  they  eupplied  her  well  vith  pi* 
visions. 

''  Queen  Isabella  arrived  at  Harwich  on  the  35th  of  SeplKtober,  ISM^' 
on  the  domain  of  Thomas  of  Brotherton,  the  king's  brother,  who  *■ 
the  lirsl  that  greeted  her  on  her  landing.'  Then  she  was  met  and  ml- 
coined  by  her  uncle,  Henry  of  Lancaster,  and  many  other  l«ro«M  ^ 
knights,  and  almost  all  the  bishops,  notwiihstanding  the  liii^'s  pnd^ 
maiion,  commanding  ail  men  to  avoid  the  queen's  armuneat  U  iu  M 
landing." 

Her  force  consisted  of  two  thousand  sevea  hundred  and     ' 


"And  beiaf  earl  iDsuhal  great  upon  the  coast, 
Witb  bells  and  bonfire*  welcome*  het  lui  tboni, 
Aad  by  hi*  oiEce  gatheriog  up  an  hott, 
Sbowi>d  'ihe  v"*-'^  tV^Bctt  4du  he  u  Edwiid 


ItABBLLA    OF    FBAMCB.  153 

ohiiera,  well  appointed,  commanded  by  lord  John  of  Hainault,  brother 
0  her  ally,  the  sovereign  of  Hainault  Roger  Mortimer  commanded 
ler  English  partisans. 

The  historian  of  Harwich  declares  that  it  was  wonderful  how  the 
ommon  people  flocked  to  her.  Every  generous  feeling  in  the  English 
haracter  had  been  worked  upon  by  her  emissaries,  who  had  dissemi- 
ated  inflammatory  tales  of  the  persecutions  she  had  endured  from  the 
ingi,  her  husband,  and  his  barbarous  ministers.  It  was  asserted  that  she 
ad  been  driven  into  a  foreign  land  by  plots  against  her  life,  and  that  she 
pas  the  most  oppressed  of  queens — ^the  most  injured  of  wives. 

So  blinding  was  the  excitement  which,  at  this  crisis,  pervaded  all 
lasses  of  the  people,  that  the  glaring  falsehood  of  her  statements,  as  to 
le  cause  of  her  quitting  Engknd,  was  forgotten ;  the  improprieties  of 
er  eoodnct,  which  had  excited  the  disgust  of  her  own  countrymen,  and 
rased  the  king,  her  brother,  to  expel  her  with  contempt  from  his  domi- 
ions,  were  regarded  as  the  base  calumnies  of  the  Despencers.  The 
kcts  that  she  came  attended  by  her  paramour,  an  outlawed  traitor,  and 
t  the  head  of  a  band  of  foreign  mercenaries,  to  raise  the  standard  of 
eT<^t  against  her  husband  and  sovereign,  having  abused  her  maternal 
iHiience  over  the  mind  of  the  youthful  heir  of  England,  to  draw  him 
ito  a  parricidal  rebellion,  excited  no  feeling  of  moral  or  rdigious  repro- 
■tion  in  the  nation. 

Every  Plantagenet  in  England  espoused  her  cause ;  but  it  is  to  be 
baerved,  that  the  king's  younger  brothers  by  the  half  blood,  Thomas 
f  Brotherton  and  the  earl  of  Kent,  were  Isabella's  first  cousins,  being 
la  sons  of  her  aunt  Marguerite  of  France,  and  that  Henry  of  Lancaster 
ras  her  ancle.  The  connexion  of  these  princes  with  the  blood-royal 
f  Fiance,  had  ever  led  them  to  make  common  cause  with  queen  Isa- 
dla.  By  them  and  by  their  party  she  was  always  treated  as  if  she 
rere  a  person  of  more  importance  than  the  king  her  husband. 

When  the  alarming  intelligence  of  the  landing  of  the  queen's  arma- 
WDt  reached  the  king,  he  was  paralyzed,  and,  instead  of  taking  measures 
Mr  defence,  he  sat  down  to  write  pathetic  letters  to  the  pope  and  the 
iag  of  Fiance,  entreating  their  succour  or  interference.  He  then  issued 
pfoclamaiion,  proscribing  the  persons  of  all  those  who  had  taken  arms 
gainst  him,  witn  the  exception  of  queen  Isabella,  the  prince  her  son, 
nd  his  brother,  the  earl  of  Kent  It  is  dated  Scot  28,  1326 :  in  it  he 
a  thousand  pounds  for  the  head  of  the  arch-traitor,  Roger  Morti- 


The  queen,  who  had  traversed  England  with  great  celerity,  at  the  head 
if  an  increasing  army,  immediately  published  a  reward  of  double  that 
Bin  for  the  head  of  tlie  younger  Despencer,  in  her  manifesto  from  Wal- 
iogford,  wherein  she  set  forth,  that  her  motives  in  coming  are  to  deliver 
lie  kingdom  from  the  misleaders  of  the  king.' 

The  next  attack  on  the  king  was  from  the  pulpit  at  Oxford,  where 
idara  Orleton,  bishop  of  Hereford,  having  called  the  Univereity  together, 
1  the  presence  of  the  queen,  the  prince  of  Wales,  Roger  Mortimer,  and 

*FcBden. 


r 


I 


ISA  ISABELLA     OF     PRA.XCe. 

tlteir  followers,  preaclieil  a  sermon  from  the  following  text :  '*My  \Mi, 
my  head  aclielli;"  (3  Kings  iv.  19;)  in  which,  afier  espltUAiDg  ihl 
queen's  motive  for  appearing  in  arms,  he  with  unprieaily  fetocjiy  «»■ 
cludeJ  with  this  observation :  "  When  the  head  of  a  liingdom  bMoattb 
sick  and  diseased,  it  musi  of  necessity  be  Isken  off,  without  tudM 
attempts  to  administer  any  other  remedy."  '  The  delivery  of  this  nui^ 
Jerous  doctrine,  in  the  presence  of  the  wife  and  eon  of  the  iletoied 
sovereign,  ought  lohuve  filled  every  bosom  with  horror  and  iadi^aaiioBi 
but  such  is  the  blindness  of  party  rage,  that  its  only  edect  wu  to  uicnHi 
the  madness  of  the  people  agahisi  their  unhappy  king.  That  misjuil^ 
prince,  after  comniiiiing  Ihe  custody  of  the  Tower,  aod  the  can  of  ha 
iieconil  son,  John  of  Ellham,  to  the  young  lady  Despencer,  liw  niMt. 
and  the  guardianship  of  the  city  of  London  to  the  faithful  Sutplcton. 
bishop  of  Exeter,  left  the  metropolis,,  attended  by  the  two  Des|>eiicav 
tlie  earls  of  Arundel  and  Hereford,  his  cliancellor  Baldock,  bishop  ef 
Norwich,  and  a  few  others  of  his  adherents,  and  fled  to  Bristol,  wiik 
the  intent  of  taking  refuge  in  Ireland.' 

The  departure  of  the  king  was  the  signal  for  a  general  rising  of  Af 
Londoners,  in  which  the  bishop  of  Exeter  immediately  fell  a  McaSet  Vt 
the  fury  of  the  partisans  of  the  queen  and  Mortimer.  The  head  of  iki* 
honest  prelate  was  cut  off,  and  presented  lo  the  queen  at  Glouce«ter,M 
an  acceptable  olTering.  "Six  weeks  afterwards,"  says  Thynoe,  "ihi 
queen,  forgetting  all  discourtesies,  did  (like  a  woman  deairaiu  to  sbov 
that  his  death  happened  without  her  lilung,  and  also  that  she  revcregad 
his  callmg)  command  his  corpse  to  be  removed  from  the  place  of  IB 
first  dishonourable  interment  under  a  heap  of  rubbish,  and  crniMd  U  H 
be  buried  in  his  own  cathedral." '  The  lady  Despencer,  intimtdated  I7 
this  murder,  surrendered  the  Tower  to  the  mob,  who  prnolainiMl  pROct 
John  the  custos  of  the  city ;  and  in  the  queen's  name  libenicd  tht  fl^ 
toilers  in  all  the  gaols. 

^  The  queen  and  all  her  company,"  says  Froissart,  **  the  Ionic  ^ 
Hainault  and  their  suite,  look  ihe  shortest  road  for  Bristol,  and  in  t*vj 
town  through  which  they  passed  were  entertained  wiih  every  muka 
distinction.  Their  forces  augmented  daily  until  they  arrired  al  Piirtt^i 
which  they  besieged.  The  king  and  the  younger  Hugh  Dnpeacartta 
themselves  up  in  the  castle;  old  Sir  Hugh  and  the  carl  oT  Annidil 
remained  in  the  town,  but  these  the  citizens  delivered  up  soon  tHttV 
the  queeu,  who  entered  Briniol,  accompanied  by  Sii  John  Hainaull,  «iib 
all  her  barons,  knights,  and  squires.  Sir  Hugh  Despencer,  the  ddrt, 
and  the  earl  of  Arundel,  were  delivered  to  the  queen,  that  she  might  Jo 
what  she  pleased  with  them. 

"  Tlie  children  of  the  queen  were  also  brought  to  her,  John  of  DikM 
and  her  two  daughters.  As  she  had  not  seen  them  for  a  long  tiine,  i» 
gave  her  great  joy  as  well  as  nil  her  parly." 

"  The  king,  and  the  younger  Despencer,  shut  up  in  the  CMtle,  M» 


ISABELLA    OF     FRANCS.  155 

jonch  grieved  at  what  paised,  seeing  the  whole  country  turned  to  the 
queen^s  party. 

^The  queen  then  ordered  old  Sir  Hugh  and  the  earl  of  Arundel  to  be 
brought  before  her  son  and  the  barons  assembled,  and  told  them  ^  that 
she  should  see  that  law  and  justice  were  executed  on  them,  acc(»rding 
to  their  deeds.'     Sir  Hugh  replied, 

'^^Ah,  madam;  God  grant  us  an  upright  judge  and  a  just  sentence! 
and  that  if  we  cannot  find  it  in  this  world,  we  may  find  it  in  another.'  ^ 

The  gallant  old  knight,  when  he  made  this  reply,  was  ninety.  He 
was  speedily  sentenced,  and  his  execution  took  place  on  St  Denis's  day, 
1326,  in  sight  of  his  son  and  the  king,  who  were  still  safe  in  the  castle 
of  Bristol. 

^  It  seems,''  says  Froissart,  ^  that  the  king  and  the  younger  Sir  Hugh, 
intimidated  by  this  execution,  endeavoured  to  escape  to  the  Welsh  shore 
in  a  boat  which  tliey  had  behind  the  castle ;  but  afler  tossing  about  some 
days,  and  striving  in  vain  against  the  contrary  winds,  which  drove  them 
repeatedly  back  within  a  mile  of  the  castle,  from  whence  they  were  try- 
ing to  escape,  Sir  Hugh  Beaumont,  observing  the  efforts  of  this  unfortu- 
nate bark,  rowed  out  with  a  strong  force  in  his  barge,  to  see  who  was 
in  iL  The  king's  exhausted  boatmen  were  soon  overtaken,  and  the  con- 
sequence was,  that  the  royal  fugitive  and  his  hapless  fovourite  were 
brought  back  to  Bristol,  and  delivered  to  the  queen,  as  her  prisoners." 
According  to  other  historians,  Edward  fled  to  Wales,  and  took  refuge 
among  the  monks  of  Neath ;  but  his  retreat  was  betrayed  by  Sir  Thomas 
Blunt,  the  steward  of  his  household. 

Now  the  evil  nature  of  Isabella  of  France  blazed  out  in  full  view. 
Hitherto  her  beauty,  her  eloquence,  and  her  complaints,  had  won  all 
hearts  towards  her  cause ;  but  the  touchstone  of  prosperity  showed  her 
nataral  character. 

The  queen  and  all  the  army  set  out  for  London.  Sir  Thomas  Wager, 
the  marshal  of  the  queen's  army,  caused  Sir  Hugh  Despencer  to  be  fast- 
ened OD  the  poorest  and  smallest  horse  he  could  find,  clothed  with  a 
tabard,  such  as  he  was  accustomed  to  wear,  that  is,  with  his  arms,  and 
the  arms  of  Clare  of  Gloucester,  in  right  of  his  wife,  emblazoned  on  his 
sorcoat,  or  dress  of  state.  Thus  was  he  led  in  derision,  in  the  suite  of 
the  queen,  through  all  the  towns  they  passed,  where  he  was  announced 

Sir  trumpets  and  cymbals,  by  way  of  greater  mockery,  till  they  reached 
ereibrd,  where  she  and  her  suite  were  joyfully  and  respectfully  received, 
and  where  the  feast  of  All  Saints  was  celebrated  by  them  with  great 
•oiemnity. 

The  unfortuitate  Hugh  Despencer  would  eat  no  food,  from  the  mo- 
ment he  was  taken  prisoner,  and  becoming  very  ^int,  Isabella  had  him 
tned  at  Hereford,  lest  he  should  die  before  he  reached  London.  Being 
neariy  insensible  when  brought  to  trial,  his  diabolical  persecutors  had 
him  crowned  with  nettles.'  But  he  gave  few  signs  of  life.  His  mise- 
were  ended  by  a  death,  accompanied  with  too  many  circumstances 


*  Chronicle  in  Lelaiul,  written  hy  sir  W.  Packington,  treasurer  to  Edward  the 
Prin'*^. 


L  II  i:  M.  V    OF    r  R  A  !(  c  «• 

i  h,  mrirc  iliati  nitiitlci)  to  here.  He  was  rw 
■  :-;r<iti^!iLilil  tit'  ihi'  |Htwcr  of  Moniiner',  mm 
•.:■  <  ti  H'iiii  ])n':<etit  at  tiis  esc-rulion. 
1-^1  twii  );i-nili-iiii'tt  iiuiiicd  Daniel  ami  Michcl- 
<ti.>ii'>ly  lit  tli'iff-inl.  Ill  ijniiiry  tltc  vinJinirt 
111  i'li<':iKli(iI  an  (i<|Ni'ial  aniinn«iiy  aiguiiiat  ihem. 

i'iiiii:;li  priitcriinl  liy  hi»  pno«lly  vocation,  as 
11  ihi'  Lix>-  ami  till!  hnltiT,  durivnl  little  beuefii 

w.i^  ri>iisi)!iit'il  to  l)ic  IlihIlt  ilicrcic*  <rf"  M^m 
'  I'liiitrivaiirc  lie  was  atlackctl  by  Llie  LoudiKi 
ry  fury,  that  lie  died  nf  tliu  injuries  he  received 

.1  [»'rl!i!ii)u$  sjiiril  whirh  rharacicrized  Uie  coa- 
I  WiT-  rulliieKit  iliiiliri^  with  the  Knights  Tnu- 
:li<  iir<ir>'iiliiii.r!<  of  his  (Iau>;liUT  Isabella,  at  this 
\r::  thir  |K>|Hilnr  iilol  of  tlie  Eni^li^h  Jumi  then; 
ii.il  iIi-IiiMiiii  la^teil.  she  eoukl  ilu  no  wnini;. 
-.  llie  i)uitii  set  out  fur  London,  aeroni{nninl 
ilimiijiioLi.  Sir  John  of  lluinaulu  and  her  par*- 
>:iial  partiKiii.«.  uud  her  foreign  Iroops,  while  a 
r~.  wlio  had  oeeimiuUiixl  uti  the  road,  followed 


irABBLLA    OF    TKANCB. 


19^ 


r  to  the  inauguration  of  his  successor ;  but  they  found  nothing 
satisfy  the  young  Edward,  as  to  the  lawfubiess  of  his  title 
ne. 

lappy  king  had  already  been  compelled  to  resign  the  great 
t  delegates  of  his  queen  and  parliament,  at  Monmouth  castle, 
ton,  &e  traitor  bishop  of  Hereford,  was  the  person  employed 
en  to  demand  it ;  and  as  the  king  quiescently  resigned  it  to 
18  deputed,  with  twelve  other  commissioners,  to  require  the 
)  monarch  to  abdicate  his  royal  dignity,  by  delivering  up  his 
plre,  and  the  rest  of  the  regalia,  into  their  hands, 
imissioners  proceeded  on  their  ungracious  errand  to  Kenil- 
le,  where  the  king  was  kept  as  a  state  prisoner,  but  with 
t  treatment,  by  his  noble  captor,  Henry  of  Lancaster.  The 
tor  Orleton  was  the  spokesman,'  and  vented  the  insatiable 
lis  heart,  in  a  series  of  the  bitterest  insults  against  his  fallen 
under  the  pretence  of  demonstrating  the  propriety  of  depriv* 

a  dignity  of  which  he  had  proved  himself  unworthy, 
listened  to  the  mortifying  detail  of  the  errors  of  his  life  and 
t,  with  floods  of  tears ; '  and  when  Orleton  enlarged  on  the 
>wn  him,  by  tlie  magnates  of  his  kingdom,  in  choosing  his 

successor,  instead  of  conferring  the  crown  on  a  strangier,  he 
uiowledged  it  to  be  such,  and  withdrew  to  prepare  himself 
ffnation  of  the  outward  symbols  of  sovereignty.* 
foor,  the  faithful  servant  of  Edward  H.,  gives  a  pathetic 
'  the  scene  in  the  presence-chamber  at  Kenilworth  Castle, 
commissioners,  in  the  presence  of  Henry  Plantagenet,  earl  of 
he  earl  of  Lancaster's  eldest  son,  were  drawn  up,  in  formal 
>rleton,  to  renounce  their  homage  to  king  Edward,  and  to 

personal  abdication  of  the  royal  dignity.  Afler  a  long  pause, 
unate  prince  came  forth  from  an  inner  apartment,  clad  in 
nreeds,  or,  as  the  chronicler  expresses  it,  ^  gowned  in  black,^ 
uggle  of  his  soul  being  sufficiently  denoted  by  the  sadness 
ires ;  but  on  entering  tlie  presence  of  his  obdurate  subjects, 
»wn  in  a  deep  swoon,  and  lay  stretched  upon  the  earth  as  one 
e  earl  of  Leicester  and  the  bishop  of  Winchester  immediately 

assistance,  and,  raising  him  in  their  arms,  with  some  tender- 
•rted  him.  After  much  trouble,  they  succeeded  in  restoring 
>py  master  to  a  consciousness  of  his  misery.*    ^  As  piteous 

as  this  sight  was,"  continues  the  chronicler,  ^  it  failed  to 

compassion  of  any  other  of  the  queen's   commissioners, 
ideed,  had  the  kin^  recovered  from  his  indisposition,  before 
ess  Orleton,  regardless  of  the  agony  he  had  inflicted,  pro- 
1  repetition  of  his  cruel  insults.'' 
g  gave  way  to  a  fresh  paroxysm  of  weeping ;  and  being  much 

his  decision,  he  at  length  replied,  that  ^  ne  was  aware  that 

a  Moor.     Knighton.  *  Walsingbam.     Rapin. 

la  Moor.     Walsingbam.  *  Ibid. 

la  Moor.  *  J>e  la  Moot.   WiiwEnriBMsu 

1.—  24 


I 

I 

1 

i 


199'  ISABELLA     OF    FRA>'Ce. 

for  liiB  mimy  sins  he  was  thus  punished,  and  ihereTore  he  booughl  lliott 
present  to  have  coropassioo  up<iD  hiin  iu  liis  adversity  ;'^  ■dding,  ■■  tbn 
much  as  he  grieveJ  for  having  incurred  ihe  haired  of  hi*  people,  ha  wh 
glad  that  hia  eldest  son  whs  so  giacious  in  iheir  sight,  Hnd  ga*e  ibv 
Sianka  for  choosing  him  lo  be  their  king."' 

The  cecemony  of  abdication,  in  this  instance,  it  eeenui,  cnnnabd 
chiefly  in  the  king's  surrender  of  ilie  crown,  sceptre,  oib,  and  other  «■ 
signs  of  royalty,  for  the  use  of  his  son  and  successor. 

Sir  William  Trussell,  the  same  judge  who  pronounced  sentetiee  «f 
deiiih  on  the  Despencers,  and  other  adherents  of  ibe  king,  and  thou 
ftppearooce  among  tlie  commissioners  of  the  queen  and  parlUment  lad 
pniiiably  caused  the  king's  swoon,  pronounced  the  miiuiciatioa  tf 
Lu[r.iti;e. 

The  chief  dults  of  dlwarit  II.  appear  to  have  been  errors  otjudfftmt 
and  levity  of  deportment.  He  is  accused  of  having  made  a  party  oalfal 
Thames  in  a  returned  fagoi-baige.  and  of  buying  cabbages  of  the  gy- 
deners  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  to  make  his  soup; — a  harmles*  Wit, 
wliirli  might  have  increased  tlie  popularity  of  a  greater  sovereign.  Eil- 
ward  wad,  however,  too  much  addicted  to  the  pleasures  of  the  bible,  Uit 
is  said  to  have  given  way  lo  habits  of  intemperance. 

From  an  old  French  MS.,  we  find  that  he  paid  Jack  of  St.  Alhaa.  bn 
painter,  for  dancing  on  the  table  before  him,  and  making  hiiu  bugfa  fi- 
cessively.'  Another  person  be  rewarded  for  diverting  him.  bv  tut  iiA 
fashion  of  tumbling  off  his  horse.  The  worst  charge  of  all  U,  ihtfk 
was  wont  to  play  at  chuck-farthing,  or  tossing  up  fanhii^  for  ImiA 
and  tails;  a  very  uukingly  diversion  certainly,  and  suflicieni  la  dilgwl 
the  warlike  peers,  who  had  been  accustomed  to  rally  rounil  ifae  TV>^ 
lious  banner  of  the  mighty  father  of  this  grown-up  baby, 

Adversity  appears  to  have  had  a  hallowing  inHuence  on  ifae  diaacttt 
of  Edward  II- ;  and  tlie  following  loucliing  lines  written  by  hint  in  l^lUk 
during  bis  captivity,  sutlicieutly  denote  that  he  was  iMmed.  and  f»- 
sessed  redective  powers  and  a  poetic  imagination  : — 

Graced  wiih  fiur 


Her  bitieteti  slioweti, 
All  from  ■  wiutr/  cloud, 
Siarn  Ibrtune  pouri. 
View  bui  her  ftvourile' 
Sage  and  discerning, 


Famed  k 
Stioiild  slie  witlidrsw  li«  a...  . 
Each  grare  iUe  batiislie*, 
Windoin  and  wit  are  OovK. 
And  bcautf  T»ni<lie«.* 


n  as  the  commissioners  relumed  lo  London  with  the  IW^ 
and  signified  the  abdication  of  tlie  ble  sovereign  to  the  queen  mm  iI> 
parliament,  the  prince  of  AVales  was  publicly  proctaime^l  kjag  en  Af 
20th  of  January,  1927,  and  Walter,  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  pnvW 

Be  la  Moor.     Walsingbam.     Polydore  Vergil. 
J.  P.  Andrews.     Colleeiiona  from  the  Chroiiiele*. 
'  tuppowd  to  mean  Mortimer. 

Tliese  line*  are  irsnslated  by  J.  P.  AodiBW*,  from  ihe  orlfiual  lAlin,|l^ 
•orved  in  Aldetmao  Fabiui't  Chronicle  : 

■'Damnum  mihi  contuiit 
Temfoie  bnmali,"  dec  Ac 


ISABELLA    OF    FSAIICS.  «50 

m  Mnnon  in  WettmiDster  Abbeyy  preparatory  to  the  coronation,  taking 
for  his  text,  not  any  Terse  from  tcripture,  but  the  words.  Vox  populi^ 
vox  DeL 

The  queen  judged  it  prudent  to  detain  her  sworn  champion,  Sir  John 
de  Hainault,  and  as  many  of  his  stout  Flemings  as  he  could  induce  to 
mnain  in  her  sendee,  till  afVer  the  coronation  of  the  young  king,  who 
had  completed  his  fiiVeenth  year  in  the  preceding  No?ember.  He  re- 
ceiTcd  knighthood  from  the  sword  of  his  cousin,  the  earl  of  Lancaster, 
assisted  by  sir  John  Hainault  on  this  occasion. 

^  There  was,  at  this  time,"  says  Froissart,  ^^  a  great  number  of  count- 
esses and  noble  ladies  attendant  on  the  queen  Isabella.  The  queen  gave 
leare  to  many  of  her  household  to  return  to  their  country-seats,  except  a 
few  nobles  whom  she  kept  with  her  as  her  council.  She  expressly  ordered 
them  to  come  back  at  Christmas,  to  a  great  court  which  she  proposed  to 
hold.  When  Christmas  came,  she  held  her  court ;  it  was  very  fully  at- 
tended by  all  the  nobles  and  prelates  of  the  realm,  as  well  as  by  the 
principal  officers  of  the  great  cities  and  towns.  The  young  king  Edward, 
since  so  fortunate  in  arms,  was  crowned  with  the  royal  diadem  in  West- 
minster, on  Christmas-day,  1326." 

The  most  remarkable  feature  at  this  coronation  was  the  hypocritical 
deoManoar  of  the  queen-mother  Isabella,  who,  though  she  had  been  the 
principal  cause  of  her  husband's  deposition,  aflected  to  weep  during  the 
whole  of  the  ceremony.' 

Sir  John  de  Hainault  and  all  his  companions,  noble  or  otherwise,  were 
much  ieasted,  and  had  many  rich  jewels  given  them  at  the  coronation. 
He  remained  during  these  grand  feasts,  to  the  great  satis&ction  of  the 
lords  and  ladies  who  were  there,  until  Twelf\h-day.  Then  the  king, 
by  the  advice  of  the  queen,  gave  him  an  annuity  of  400  marks,  to  be 
hdd  by  him  in  fee,  payable  in  the  city  of  Bruges ;  and  to  the  countess 
of  Gamines,  and  some  other  ladies  who  had  accompanied  the  queen 
Isabella  to  England,  king  Edward  HI.  gave  many  rich  jewels,  on  their 
taking  leave. 

With  a  view  of  increasing  the  unpopularity  of  her  unhappy  lord,  Isa- 
bella wrote  to  the  pope  on  the  last  day  of  February,  1326,  requesting 
him  to  canonise  the  beheaded  earl  of  Lancaster,  her  uncle,  whose  virtues 
she  greatly  extolled.* 

The  parliament,  immediately  after  the  coronation,  appointed  a  council 
of  regency  for  the  guardianship  of  the  youthful  sovereign  and  the  realm, 
eonsisting  of  twelve  bishops  and  peers.  Among  these  were  the  king's 
two  uncles,  Thomas  of  Brotherton,  earl  marshal,  and  Edmund  of  Wood- 
slock,  earl  of  Kent,  and  the  archbishops  of  Canterbury  and  York,  &c.  &c. 
The  earl  of  Lancaster  was  appointed  the  president. 

Tlie  queen  made  no  remonstrance  against  this  arrangement,  but,  having 
military  power  in  her  own  hands,  she  seized  the  government,  and  made 
Roger  Mortimer  (whom  she  had  caused  her  son  to  create  earl  of  March) 
ha  prime  minister,  and  Adam  Orleton  her  principal  counsellor.'    Thii 

'  Planche*!  Hist,  of  Coronation!. 

•  Bradyi  Hiat,  p.  138.  and  Appendix,  No.  64,  66.     Rapin,  397. 

*  WsUingham.    De  la  Moor. 


m 


SABELLA     OF    FBAJICB 


e  trio  managed  the  af^ira  or  ihe  kingdom  belwem  dim.  A6n 
ma  arrangement,  Isabella,  hilherlo  ihe  rao#t  nccomplinhcd  of  iltMuMii- 
'ore,  threw  off  the  mask,  and,  with  the  Eanclion  of  a  [larliatDeiit  IM^  tf 
of  her  partisans,  appropriated  lo  herself  a  dovrer  exc«Mbn;  t*'»4Mli 
of  Uie  revenues  of  the  kin^nni. 

The  Easter  fotlowing  brought  an  inTaaJon  front  iha  SocKs,  hMMtf 
the  heroic  king  Robert  Brace,  and  the  qa»en  invited  bftr  riiampMn,  * 
John  ITainaolt,  to  assist  in  repulsing  this  JRvnsion.  At  WIiilMiliilr,  ^t 
John,  and  a  number  of  mercenary  irtiops,  airivwl  in  EnpUmt,  boi  «tlf 
very  ill  received  by  the  populace,  as  the  following  namttaa  wfll  An. 

"  The  queen  held  a  great  court  on  Trinity  Sunday,  at  ih*  hwMt  rf 
the  Black  Friars,  but  she  and  her  son  were  lodged  in  Oxe  ritT.  ■*■• 
each  kept  iheir  lodgings  separate^  the  young  king  with  hia  knlKlitB.a4 
ihe  queen  with  her  ladies,  whose  numberg  ware  very  coniridenbla.  J* 
this  court  the  king  had  6ve  hundred  knights,  and  daUwd  fiAm  m 
ones.  The  queen  gave  her  entertainment  in  the  dormitofy,  whtivM 
least  sixty  ladies,  whom  she  had  invited  la  entertain  air  Jnhn  dp  EUoii* 
and  his  suite,  sat  down  to  the  table,  There  might  be  Mwa  •  tmmstm 
Kobiliiy,  well  served  wiili  plenty  of  eiran^  dishee.  ao  diagtitwd  itel  t 
could  not  be  known  what  they  wen^.  There  were  b]mi  ladjaa  matt 
superbly  dressed,  who  were  expecting  with  impatiencd  Uia  hoar  of  ibe 
ball,  but  they  expected  in  vain.    Soou  after  diimer,  the  gw    ~  ' 


ISABELLA    OF    FRANCE.  161 

**  Such  tools  the  Tempter  never  needs 
To  do  the  savagest  of  deeds.*' 

B7  this  pair  the  royal  victim  was  conducted,  under  a  strong  guard, 
tint  to  Coife  Castle,  and  then  to  Bristol,  where  public  sympathy  operated 
so  &r  in  his  hrouT  that  a  project  was  formed  by  the  citizens  for  his  de- 
liverance. When  this  was  discovered,  the  associate-traitors,  Gurney  and 
Maliravers,  hurried  him  to  Berkeley  Caade,  which  was  destined  to  be 
his  last  resting-place.  On  the  road  thither,  he  was  treated  in  the  most 
barfaaroua  manner  by  his  unfeeling  guards,  who  took  fiend-like  delight 
in  augmenting  his  misery,  by  depriving  him  of  sleep,  compelling  him  to 
lide  in  thin  clothing  in  the  chilly  April  nights,  and  crowning  him  with 
haj,  in  mockery.' 

Aecording  to  De  la  Moor,  the  queen^s  mandate  for  the  murder  of  her 
ro3ral  huaband  was  conveyed  in  that  memorable  LAtin  distich  from  the 
iobtle  pen  of  Adam  Orleton,  the  master-fiend  of  her  cabinet;  it  is  capable, 
by  the  alteration  of  a  comma,  of  being  read  with  two  directly  opposite 
meaniDgs : 

**  Edwardmn  occidere  oolite  timere,  bonum  est 
Edwarduni  occidere  nolite,  timere  bonuin  est* 

**  Edward  to  kill  fear  not,  the  dee«l  is  gnotl. 
Edward  kill  not,  to  fear  the  deed  is  good/* 

Manriee  de  Berkeley,  the  lord  of  the  castle,  on  the  first  arrival  of  the 
mhappy  Edward,  had  treated  him  with  so  much  courtesy  and  respect, 
fhat  he  was  not  only  denied  access  to  him,  but  deprived  of  all  power  in 
kit  own  home. 

On  the  night  of  the  22d  of  September,  1327,  exactly  a  twelvemonth 
after  the  return  of  the  queen  to  England,  the  murder  of  her  unfortunate 
husband  was  perpetrated,  with  circumstances  of  the  greatest  horror.    No 

'  De  la  Moor  adds,  with  great  indignation,  that  they  made  him  shave  in  the 
open  field,  bringing  him  cold  muddy  vrater  in  an  old  helmet,  from  a  stagnant 
ditch,  for  that  purpose.  On  which  the  unfortunate  Edward  passionately  ob- 
fcrTcd,  in  allusion  to  tlie  bitter  tears  which  overflowed  his  cheeks  at  this  wanton 
cruelty,  **  In  spite  of  you,  I  shall  be  shavefl  with  warm  water.*'  The  excellence 
of  Edward*!  oonsdtutioa  disappointing  the  systematic  attempts  of  the  queen's 
BMciless  agents,  cither  to  kill  liim  with  sorrow,  or  by  broken  rest,  improper  diet, 
and  unwholesome  air,  they  applied  to  Mortimer  for  fresh  orders,  it  being  well 
known  that  the  whole  body  of  the  friars-preachers  were  labouring  not  only  for 
bis  deliverance,  but  his  restoration  to  royal  power.  The  influence  of  tliis  fra- 
trmity  was  ealculated  to  awaken  the  sympathies  of  every  villngc  in  England  in 
ftrvoor  of  their  deposed  sovereign,  whose  patience  and  meekness  under  his 
aflictions  and  persecutions  had  already  pleaded  his  cause  in  every  heart  not 
wbolly  dead  to  the  tender  impulses  of  compassion.  It  is  supposed  the  sudden 
idea  of  shaving  the  king  originated  in  die  fear  of  his  being  recognised  by  his 
partisans  on  the  journey. 

*A  modem  biographer  of  tliis  prelate,  with  some  degree  of  plausibility,  en- 
deavours to  acquit  him  of  tliis  orime,  on  the  grounds  that  the  equivocal  Latin 
venesi  quoted  by  so  many  English  authors,  were  composed  more  than  a  century 
|irior  ID  this  era,  by  an  archbisliop  of  Strimonium,  with  reference  10  Gertrude 
i)uf«n  of  Hungary,  and  also  tliat  Orleton  vms  out  of  the  kingdom  at  *J<e  time  of 
Edward  n.*s  murder;  but  there  is  no  reason  why  he  ihoukl  aot  have  altered 
and  adapted  the  lines  for  this  purpose. 
14* 


I 


"Wl  ISABELLA    OF    PRA<(CB. 

ontwarJ  marks  of  violence  were  perceptible  on  his  person,  when  ia 
body  was  exposed  lo  public  view  in  Gloucester  i:nthMlral,  bul  the  r^ 
and  distorted  lines  of  die  bee  bore  evidence  of  the  agonies  he  hnl  M- 
dergone,  and  it  is  reported  thai  his  cries  had  been  heaid  at  a  coMJitftrti 
distance  from  the  castle,  where  (his  barbarous  regicide  was  eomniillii 
t'  Many  a  one  woke,"  adds  the  narrator,  "  and  ptayed  to  Got)  for  it 
harmless  soul,  which  that  night  was  departing  in  torture."' 

The  public  indignation,  in  that  part  of  the  country,  wu  M  gntHf 
excited  against  the  infamous  instruments  of  the  queen  and  MortiniBrftkH 
they  were  fain  to  make  their  escape  beyond  seas,  to  avoid  the  mtfrntt 
of  the  people.' 

The  murdered  king  was  interred,  without  funeral  pomp,  inOhimuf 
cathedral,  and  Isabella  endeavoured,  by  the  marriage  fesiiTiiieauTbcnoi 
and  hia  young  queen,  to  dissipate  the  general  gloom,  which  Uw  t«p- 
cious  c  ire  urns  lances  attending  the  death  of  her  unhappy  emuon  W 
occasioned.  But  so  universal  was  the  feeling  of  disgust  which  lb*  e«> 
duet  of  the  queen  and  her  tavouriie  Mortimer  excited,  that  nolliia;  ta 
the  despotism  she  had  succeeded  in  establishing,  enabled  b«r  to  tef 
possession  of  her  usurped  power.' 

The  pacification  with  Scotland  gave  great  oflence  to  the  pablir.l»- 
cause  Isabella  bartered  for  twenty  thousand  pounds,  the  claims  nf  ilir 
king  of  England  over  Scotland,  and  Mortimer  appropriated  the  niontTia 
his  own  use.  Br  the  same  treaty  they  restored  the  regalia  of  tj^uihwl 
lo  their  rightful  owners ;  the  English  were  indignant,  that  in  ibit  iqplih 
was  comprised  the  (amous  Black  Cross  of  St.  Margaret,  wbid)  hid  kNi 
one  of  the  crown  jewels  of  their  Anglo-Saxon  kings.*  Stitl  omw  aoi 
they  enraged,  that,  without  sanction  of  pariiameni,  the  qiisen  eoodiAt 
a  marriage  between  the  princess  Joanna,  an  infant  live  j^emn  oU^tfJ 
David  Brace,  the  heir  of  Scotland,  who  was  about  tvro  ycai*  sUk 
She  aecompanied  her  young  daughter  lo  Berwick,  attended  by  Mv^aK, 
and,  in  their  presence,  the  royal  children  were  luarried  at  thaIM«% 
July  12,  1328.' 

It  was  observed  that  the  two  brothers  of  the  late  lung,  Th(»M4f 
Brolherton  and  Edmund  earl  of  Kent,  and  Isabella's  own  uiicle.U)ewl 
of  Lancaster,  with  some  other  magnates,  had  withdrawn  thenoelvHAvB 
the  national  council,  in  utter  indignation  at  the  late  proceeding  ef  tbt 
(jueen,  and  the  insolence  of  her  favourite  Mortimer.  They  perMimL 
too  late,  that  they  had  been  made  the  tools  of  an  artful,  ambitiooM,  hJ 
vindictive  woman,  who,  under  the  pretence  of  reforming  the 


■Ttrne  wers  ihe  words  of  t)e  la  Moor,  the  bitliful  and  aflectionsle  iBnwttf 
Edwnid  n.,  who  did  justice  to  his  maner'i  memory  in  his  patlietic  lobad*- 
nicl«.  Edward  HL  silrrwardi  nlaed  s  tomb  with  a  fine  eSBgy  to  Ut  IWt«'< 
memory, 

*  Thtre  jrean  sfterwards,  GitTnej  wai  teiied  «I  8iiiE(m  by  ktng  Bdura;^  HL'i 
Olden,  noil  beheaded  at  sen,  on  hia  yoyage  lo  Engluid,  in  otArt  to  artmal  M  > 

luppoted,  Uie  diigrnce  which  musi  hnve  &llen  an  ibe  i 
te  in  the  murder  of  the  late  king,  her  husbuiJ,  bail  1 
light  Bt  hii  Iri^.  '  De  la  Moor.     Wa^iinshan. 

*  See  iho  biographf  of  Maiilda  of  Scotland,  vol.  j. 
The  Scotch  oajled  Itaeii  futoiB  ii'acBa,^!!  deiidoo,  JiMa  1 


ISABELLA    OF    FRANCE.  163 

her  hnsband's  government,  had  usurped  the  sovereign  authoiity.  and  in 
one  year  committed  more  crimes  than  the  late  king  and  his  unpopular 
miDisters  together,  had  perpetrated  during  the  twenty  years  of  his  reign.' 
Moreover,  the  baiharous  persecutions,  and  cruel  death,  of  their  late  sove- 
leign  made  the  princes  recoil  with  horror,  at  the  idea  of  their  having 
httku  in  some  measure,  accomplices  in  the  guilt  of  the  queen. 

Mortimer  had  even  had  the  audacity,  when  parliament  met  at  Salis- 
Kury,  October  16,  to  enter  the  town  at  the  head  of  an  army;  and,  burst- 
ing into  the  room  where  the  prelates  were  assembled,  forbade  them, 
nmler  peril  of  life  and  limb,  to  oppose  his  interests.  He  then  seized  on 
the  young  king  and  queen,  and  carried  them  off  to  Winchester ;  and, 
far  from  paying  any  regard  to  the  earl  of  Lancaster's  complaints,  of  the 
infringement  of  his  office,  of  guardian  to  the  king's  person,  he  marched 
to  Leicester,  and  plundered  his  domain  there.' 

Isabella's  cruelty,  her  hypocrisy^  and  the  unnatural  nmnner  in  which 
•he  rendered  the  interests  of  the  young  king,  her  son,  subservient  to  the 
aggrandizement  of  her  ferocious  paramour,  Mortimer,  excited  the  indig- 
nation of  all  classes ;  and  a  strong  party  was  organized,  under  the 
anspiees  of  the  Plantagenet  princes,  for  the  delivering  of  the  nation  from 
the  tynnny  of  this  modem  Semiramis.  The  earl  of  Lancaster,  who 
was  by  this  time  fully  aware  of  the  disposition  of  his  vindictive  kins- 
woman, perceived  that  he  was  intended  for  her  next  victim ;  on  which 
he»  with  the  brothers  of  the  late  king,  and  their  confederates,  took  up 
aims,  and  put  forth  a  manifesto  containing  eight  articles,  all  alarming  to 
the  guilty  queen  and  Mortimer,  especially  the  first  clause,  which  threat- 
ened inquiry  into  the  unlawful  augmentations  of  her  dower ;  and  the 
fifth,  regarding  the  late  king's  death.'  The  queen  mother,  aware  of  the 
impoasibility  of  meeting  such  inquiries  before  parliament,  urged  the 
young  king  to  attack  tlie  malcontents ;  assuring  him  that  the  object  of 
hii  uncle  was  to  deprive  him  of  the  throne.^ 

The  interference  of  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  prevented  another 
civil  war,  and  through  his  exertions  a  hollow  pacification  was  effected 
between  Isabella  and  the  princes.  It  was  not,  however,  in  the  nature  of 
this  princess  to  forgive  any  offence  that  had  ever  been  ofifered  to  her; 
and  It  is  to  be  observed,  that  her  enmity  had  hitherto  always  proved  fatal 
to  every  person  who  had  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  incur  her  ill  will. 
With  the  wariness  of  a  cat,  she  now  examined  the  characteristic  qualities 
of  the  members  of  the  royal  family,  whom  she  determined  to  attack 
separately,  since  she  had  found  them  too  strong  to  engage  collectively. 
She  commenced  with  the  earl  of  Kent,  who  had,  ever  since  the  death  of 
the  king,  his  brother,  suffered  the  greatest  remorse  for  the  part  he  had 
taken  in  the  late  revolution. 

Isabella,  being  aware  of  his  state  of  mind,  caused  it  to  be  insinuated 
to  him  tliat  the  late  sovereign,  his  brother,  was  not  dead,  but  a  prisoner 

*  Walvingham.     De  la  Moor.     Knighton.  *  Lingnrd.  *  Knighton. 

'LaiK-mflter  wai  compellml  to  ask  pardon,  to  submit  to  an  enormous  fine,  and 
to  enter  into  recognisances  not  to  do  any  evil  or  injury  to  the  king,  the  two 
qoeensi  or  anj  of  their  household  or  council,  whether  great  or  small. — ^lAii^\\ 


\m 


ISABELLA     OF     F  R  *  X  C  I  ■ 


withio  the  w»lU  of  Coife  Cwtlo. 
inquite  into  ihe  truth  of  ihu 


I 
I 


A  frinr,  irlKun  the  eari  ' 
e.  on  findia^  ikmi  evi^r\ 
?ieighlKinrliO(Ml  canfidenlly  briiovnl  llial  the  udibrUlllAle  V 
uTiDg,  unilrr  very  rlomi  rettmitiL,  in  tlie  caailp>au!mvu(i:.i:  . 
tccoa  lo  ihi<  mysterioiM  raptite  :  hf  was  diowa.  U  a  (IUlanc«, 
sitting  al  table,  who««  aif  aiid  tigure  gmily  rc>cinblcd  thai  of 
f^aseil  kingt  ubom,  inilced.  bp  was  mcani  to  pcraunnic.    Tlw  i 
Kent.  aniii'Ds  to  make  repnntiinn  in  his  royal  broUier  fur  the 
tuu)  done  him,  hastened  lo  Curfe  Oitlle.  and  boldly  tlcmant 
gOTtrnor  "  to  br  cnnilucted  to  the  ajiartuufiit  of  sir  Edward  of 
»on,  hi*  broiJier,"    Tlie  governor  did  iioi  deny  thai  king  Edi 
in  the  ouilt^,  but  protested  the  impossibility  of  permitting  any 
Bee  him.     Thf  earl  then  prcTail'xi  on  him  to  lake  charge  of  a  leilef  I 
his  iIlu<irii<Dg  prifioticr.     I'lii*  letter  wm immodiately  conrej-ctl  loqnea 
l«ab«lla.  oud  used  by  her  as  a  pretence  for  the  arrest  of  the  dciiuM 
prince.' 

Thi»  w'M  done  at  Winrhestcr,  where  the  parlionient  was  thea  MMB- 
bUd-  £arl  Edmund  was  impeaclml  oT  hifh  trtnson,  befon  the  pMa> 
lli«  own  Irtter  wa*  the  cliinT  eridunre  pruduced  aipiinsi  hitn,  lo^ctfal 
with  Ilia  coiifeHJoii,  in  which  he  acknowlndged  "  lliat  a  oorlua  fn» 
pnaehftf  of  London  lold  him  he  had  conjured  up  a  apiriu  who  mtmi 
nim  that  hia  brother  Kdwanl  wai  atiU  alive ;  alau,  that  sir  bgaa  B» 
renger  brought  bini  a  letter  from  llie  lord  Zouche,  requesting  bis  tmin 
tnM  in  the  restoration  of  hiti  late  euvereign.'" 

For  this  imposaible  tr^oiion  he  was  senienred  to  lose  bis  bead.'  U 
arr&igumeni  took  plar.c  nn  Sunday,  Ahrch  13, 1329,  (ItabelU's  Sa^ufi 
being  no  holidays,)  ami  be  was  condemned  to  dio  on  the  morrow,  'id 
tlial  day,''  says  tlie  chroniclers,  ^  the  king  was  so  beset  bv  the  qoMS 
Ilia  mother  and  the  earl  of  March,  ilint  it  was  impofsible  for  hin  u 
make  any  eflbrts  to  preserve  liia  ancle  irom  the  cruel  fate  lu  whiAlfc 
had  been  so  unjuidy  doomed,"* 

This  murder,  which  was  designed  by  Isabella  as 
the  princes  of  thp  bloofl-^'ayal.  had  llie  eliefl  of  increasing  the 
rence  in  which  she  was  now  held  iliroughoul  the  kingdom.    Thel. , 
pr«sc.nted  Mortimer's  son,  GeofTrey,  grants  of  the  principal  part  jflf' 
estates  of  the  princely  victim.* 

'  Waiainetiun.  •  Public  Aeu. 

'See  Ui«  ohionioler  in  Lolaod,  vol.  ii.  p.  417,  who  deeftljr  inipltc*(as  b 
tliii  miBdecd.    It  itwpirad  *ll  |>«ipla  wilh  Lortor     The  C'xeculioner  him 
Mcceilj  Bwar.  sad  th<>  earJ  of  Kent  waited  on  the  KaSnia  ai  Wm«h*«tf^ 
sale  from   noon  lill   Hve  in  the  anemoim,  becmue   no  on«  coulil  b*  inA 

Eform  thai  office.  Ai  length  a  mndemned  felon,  in  the  Mar^aiMta,  9 
pnnlon  on  die  condition  of  dneapinuint  the  onfonunue  PtaniagMwi.  1 
'  Aftur  Ihit  BsacMioa.  Mortimer  augmeated  bis  own  tatiuM  '" 

and  BtTn^led  at)  the  pomp  and  eonrcquence  a(  princely  nnk. 
ilrod  and  ci|[hi]'  knit^ls  in  hi*  entnbtiihineiil,  and  nevar  moved  wiihoul « j 
(imi»  imln  of  rolluwcn.    Ho  held  so  many  round  tabiei,  n  (pw  *       *  ' 
pseullar   la  hi>  rurally,  in  liniiaiion  of  kinn  Arihuc'i  chivaliHt  i 
■Wuined  10  nnioh  imponaiwe  in  hii  deroeanoui,  that  cTan  his  mi  OssAiTMI 


1 

IB  left  IsBbplU  I 


h  of  Chartps  le  Bel.  without  male  iseue,  havtiig  left  Isabrlts 
krtivitig  rhilil  of  Philip  le  Bel,  her  eldest  eon,  Edward  HI., 
^httt  he  had  the  belt  claitn  lo  [he  aaven'igtiiy  orFranre.  The 
f  of  Fnaee  decidtnl  otherwiae,  anJ  gave,  first  the  regency, 
n  the  birth  of  llie  jHKlhumojs  daughter  of  Charles  le  Be'l) 
Eta  Philip  of  Valois,  the  cousin  of  iheir  late  king.  Eilwiird 
>  assert  hiB  rliini,  as  the  nephew  of  that  monarch  and  the 
t  Philip  te  Bel;  but  his  mother,  deceived  by  overtures  front 
^  double  niHrriage,  between  her  daughter  Eleanor  and  the  heir 
kud  her  second  son  and  Philip^  ttnnghler,  not  only  prevented 
wrting  his  own  claims,  but  compelled  liim,  sorely  agajnul 
I  ftcluiowledge  those  of  his  rival,  by  perTonning  homage  for 
M  hctd  of  the  French  crown. 

returned  froni  his  last  conference  with  l^iiig  Philip  at  Amiens, 
lour  with  himxelf,  and  still  more  so  with  hia  mother.  The 
n  which  Isabellii's  repuiation  was  generally  held,  both  at  home 
i,  though  perhaps  concealed  from  him  in  his  owti  court, 
[was  as  yet  bui  a  siale  puppet,  surrounded  by  her  crealure»,) 
■ed  to  him  through  a  variety  of  chaimela,  aa  soon  an  he  wns 
i  limits  of  her  usurped  authority.'  The  pride,  the  crueltv, 
ke  of  Mortimer  were  represented  to  the  king  by  hi»  faithful 
B  other  circuiusUmcea,  tending  to  convince  him  of  the  infamy 
■en-molher's  connexion  with  ihai  favourite.  Edward  was 
bached  when  informed  of  these  things,  and  delermiced  no 
H  a  quiescent  wilnesB  of  bis  niother^s  dishonour. 
ftament  was  summoned  lo  meet  at  Nottingham  a  fortnigiti 
Umas,  and  llie  youthful  sovereign  considered  that  it  wonld 
pble  lime  for  the  arrest  of  his  mother's  parEjnour,  when  all 
I  of  Enitland  were  assembled  round  him  in  support  of  hia 
■riiy.  Edward  had  intended  to  take  up  his  abode  in  Notiing- 
k  one  of  his  own  royal  palncee ;  but  Isabella,  (brestftUing  his 
n  already  established  herself  tliere.  with  Mortimer  and  bis 
U  of  armed  followers.  Isabella  had  used  the  precaalion  of 
M  keys  of  the  casde  to  be  brought  lo  her,  and  at  night,  for 
Wily,  she  placed  ilieni  imder  her  pillow.' 
jkiculars  of  this  most  interesting  crisis  are  best  related  in  ihe 
jbe  lively  chronicler,  from  whom  Stow  has  taken  his  graphic 
■  the  arrest  of  the  queen  and  her  lover. 
,«*■«  a  parliament,  where  Roger  Mortimer  was  in  such  glory 
K  that  it  was  without  all  comparison ;  no  man  durst  name 
jnan  earl  of  Alarch  ;  and  a  greater  rout  of  men  waited  at  his 
liun  the  king's  person.  He  would  suflbr  the  king  to  rise  lo 
|,VrouId  walk  with  him  equally,  step  by  step,  and  cheek  by 
■r  preferring  the  king,  but  would  go  foremost  himself  with 
L     He  greatly  rebuked  the  carl  of  Lancaster,  cousin  to  tlis 

Ebim,  "  ihv  kiDi  of  follf."    In  fluit.  be  izoaeded  GsvcMdm 
qwonen  in  pilda  and  oruelly. — Dugdak. 
bam.  •Kw^Mm^    C%Wt. 

_ 


kin^i  for  that  «riihout  his  conseni  he  anp>int(s!  cerloin  DotiUoeo  to 
IcMlgingB  in  the  town,  netting,  ■  Wfio  mv1e  him  so  bold  to  lake  up  hb 
lodgings  close  to  the  (jueen  ?'  Wiih  which  worda.  ihe  conRahle,  btnf 
grentij  frarfd  (alarmed 'i,  appointed  lodging*  for  the  (^li  nf  Lanntieii 
full  mile  out  of  the  town,  where  waa  lodged  John  Bohnn,  ibe  ml  rf 
Hereford,  lord  hi^  constable  of  Gnuland ;  by  nliirh  nunni  a  ^nst  tim- 
leniiAn  arose  Hmong  the  noblemen  and  thi?  commnn  people,  who  olM 
Roger  Mortimer  '  the  queen's  paragon  and  the  king's  maJHcr,  whu  it- 
Biroys  the  king's  blood  and  usurpa  ihe  regal  aiajesiy.'  All  ilii«  iroiW 
the  king's  friends;  and  William  Mnnlague,  nud  olhera,  ilmr  lo  dtaa 
Robert  de  Holland,  keeper  of  Notiiiizhaffl  Gaitlc,  unto  vrhoiD  all  wm*i 
cnratn  of  the  same  were  known.  Then,  on  a  rertain  night,  ibt  ki^ 
lying  without  the  castle,  both  he  and  his  friends  wcm  bruagbt,  by  ba^ 
light,  through  a  secret  way  underground,  bGginitiog  far  rrom  tlal  (Ml*, 
till  they  eame  even  to  the  queen's  chamber,  wbidi  iliey  by  chance  Cxni 
open ;  they,  being  armed  with  naked  swords  in  ihelf  hiUiil*,  wvnt  Af> 
wards,  leaving  the  king  armed  without  (he  chamber-door,  iMt  hi*  mote 
should  espy  hiin.  They  eniered  in,  slew  sir  Hu^  Turpinfton,  who  fr 
sisted  ihetn ;  and  to  John  Neville  they  gave  a  deadly  woand'  tt^ 
ihenee  they  went  to  the  queen-mother,  whom  thev  found  with  tbc  obI 
of  March,  just  readv  to  go  lo  bed ;  and,  having  seized  Uie  *aid  eail,Aiy 

1ib<    hin>    Inin    Ihii    KbII     Ihi    nn«.n    r»»naj«t   »..:_««•■  «la^*IIFl  l~ 


I 

meh  SMI 


n 


ISABELLA    OF    F  B  A  !<  C  E. 


h  SMtenre  had  neilhPT  delay  nor  mercjr.  Thi«  wns  in- 
icd  inio  effect,  wiihoui  wailing  lo  hear  wlial  the  accused  had 
K  own  vindication." 

B  Burfonl  and  Jolin  Deverel,  who  were  taken  in  the  queen's 
ir  aj  Nollingliam  Casile,  earnestly  desired  to  disclose  the  par- 
Edward  II.'b  murder,  but  were  not  permitted  to  disburthen 
iences  of  their  guilty  knowledge,  lesl  they  should  loo  deeplv 
le  qneen-m  other. 

r  was  the  firsi  person  executed  at  Tvbuni,  which  waa  ihci 
ttie  name  of  the  Elms.  Burfotd  and  Deverel  weie  exeniteil 
His  body  hung  on  the  gallows  at  Tyburn  two  days  and 
Ifae  especial  order  of  the  king;  it  was  tlien  taken  down  and 
k  Grey  Friars'  church,  within  Newgate,  of  which  queen  Isa- 
,  benelhctres?.' 

iru  spared  the  ignominy  of  a  public  trial,  through  the  inler- 
Ihe  pope,  John  XXII.,  who  wrote  to  the  young  king,  exhort- 
tto  expose  his  moiher'c  shame.'  After  this,  Edward  attri- 
tr  crimes  to  the  evil  inflnence  of  Mortimer,  as  may  be  seen 
I  decliuBlion  lo  parliament  of  the  reasons  which  induced  him 
IS  punishnient  of  death  on  that  great  stale  criminHl.  In  the 
B  of  this  posihnmous  arraignment  it  is  set  forth  that, 
U  Roger  falsely  and  maliciously  sowed  discord  between  the 
ir  lord  the  king  and  the  queen  his  companion,  making  her 
I  if  she  came  near  her  husband  he  would  poignard  her,  or 
in  some  other  manner.  Wherefore,  by  this  cause,  and  by 
ttiei,  the  said  queen  remained  absent  from  her  said  lord,  to 
tishtmour  of  the  king  awl  of  the  said  qvecn  his  tnother,  and 
9ge,  perhaps,   nf  the   vhoh   nation   hereafter,  irhich  God 

he  first  acts  of  the  emancipated  monsich,  after  the  gallant 
It  by  which  he  had  rendered  himself  nuwlcr  of  his  own 
lo  strip  the  queen-mother  of  the  unconscionable  dowor  in 
'had  helped  herself,  and  to  reduce  her  income  to  1000^  a 
fas  also  Judged  expedient  by  his  council  to  confine  her  to 
loyal  fortresses  at  some  distance  from  the  metropolis,  lesl  by 
1^  disposition  she  should  excite  fresh  troubles  in  ihe  realm. 
y  afler  relating  the  particulars  of  Mortimer's  death,  adds, 
'won  after,  by  the  advice  of  his  rouncil,  ordered  his  mother 
bed  in  a  goodly  castle,  and  gave  her  plenty  of  ladies  to  wail 
la  well  as  knighta  and  squires  of  honour.  He  made  her  a 
dlowance  to  keep  and  nuiintain  the  stale  lo  which  she  had 
Dmed,'  bul  forbade  her  ever  lo  go  out  or  show  hecselT  abroad, 

,  Do  l>  Mwr.  Wnltinnliani.  Sww.  There  i>  ■  piHP[ii  in  Uio 
jllininic  the  wife  and  eon  r>f  Mottioier  lo  bur/  his  bcKijf  al  Winraoie; 
B  to  Weetpr,  tliB  liniisfiM  w>e  not  mode  till  the  nexl  osDIury. 

^r.  413,  qiioioii  by  Dr.  LinRonl,  vol.  iv.  p.  14. 
ni.,anno  1330i  Par.  Roll*,  p.  P3.  'Kniithtcm.   Walalneham. 

IT  1333,  Eitwiril  iI(>ckarM  Uiml  his  moihci  bu  nrnplgr  and  tpMta 
)]MbU«  bands  all  the  cutleiand  csMlei  which  forauA^MtewCiv 


r 

I 

I 
I 


I 


m 
7t 


ISABELLA 


at  CMttin  times,  and  when  ouy  sliows  were  exhibited  in  ibe  cobI 

Outte  Rising,  in  Norfolk,  vraa  the  pUce  where  queeu  Inhellk  ni 
destined  to  spend  the  long  years  of  her  widowhood.  Ii  had  beloopd 
to  the  Albinis,  froon  vFhom  it  paaaed  to  [he  lords  of  Slonlali ;  the  wido* 
of  the  last  baron  of  that  line  had  surrendered  it  to  queen  IsaboQa,  dunaf 
her  regency,  for  an  annuity  of  4001.  per  annum- 
It  was  a  noble  pile,  built,  in  1  ITS,  by  Wdliam  Albini,  husband  te 
queen  Adelicio.  It  was  constructed  in  the  manner  of  Norwidi  Ctrtlr, 
on  a  bold  eminence  surrounded  by  a  high  bank  and  deep  valluBi.  1^ 
walls  were  three  yard«  thick ;  the  keep  was  a  large  square  Iowvt,  oh 
coin[)aseed  with  a  deep  ditch  and  bold  rampart,  on  which  was  a  Mimf 
wall  with  tliree  lowers.  Enough  remains  to  show  thai  Caatle  Rinf 
must  have  been  a  most  formidable,  if  not  an  impregnable,  forlrtat.* 

Froissarl  says,  "  The  queen  passed  her  time  there  meekly  ;"  by  whidi 
oar  readers  are  lo  understand  that  she  neither  devised  plou  nor  inwats 
against  the  government  of  her  illustrious  son,  Edward  III^  and  gut*  m 
further  cause  for  public  scandal. 

More  than  one  ancient  historian  hints  that,  during  her  loog  ooulo*- 
inrnt,  Isabella  was  afflicted  with  occasional  Gts  of  derang>;aienL'  ba 
asserted  that  these  aberrations  commenced  in  a  violent  acceea  of  mmt" 
oeas,  which  seized  her  while  the  body  of  Mortimer  hung  on  ihc  gdlovt 
Iler  agonies  were  so  severe,  that,  among  the  common  people,  the  lyW 
prevaded  for  some  months  that  she  died,  at  the  lime  the  body  wm  tikta 
down.  These  tiadiUons  lead  us  lo  conclude  that  for  many  tnonthi  iht 
populace  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  her.  Her  retired  Ue,  ■>■ 
conaecled  with  conventual  vows,  must  have  strengthened  Uie  reports  t( 

in  return  he  bai  aeigned  liii  mDihec  diven  otber  lands  and  castles  nt  A*  «<M 
of -2000/.  perBDniun:  iheae  aie  chiefly  in  Nonh  Wales,  and  the  canJe  oTBn* 
ford,  with   iu  i«l&iul,  mill,  and  sppunenHitce,  in  Soiiih  Wales:  th*  ten  if  Qa 

ftaali    are    mniB   annuiliei    pBjsble    from   Tsiion*    lojal   clpmeww*. Cdifi 

fa^ira.  p.  B39. 

■We  have  hu«  an  alJuiioa  lo  ibe  cottomi  of  thine  tiinea,  wbea  miaUiit 
■liows  were  the  only  ihealrioal  eihibilion  in  lue,  and  much  enrounigBd  bf  ^ 
msenales  of  ilie  lend.  The  couru  ot  [Qyal  and  baroni*]  canles  wpia  bMh  «1t 
galleries  Toand  them  for  ibe  conTCnience  of  the  liunily  witnessing  llii  wi  ■■nm 
■pemiKlest  the  principal  bonels  wets  bnill  in  a  aimilsi  msniwr  fix  te  MM 

*ThB  keep  of  Caitle  Sising  is  not  wholly  dilapidaisd ;  die  grsM  Ml  »  ■* 
Uiod  liM  conn-Ieets.  It  now  IwloDgs  lo  Ibe  boo.  Mrs.  Grsville  Uovant,  •••  it 
the  detoendania  of  the  Kreal  Albini,  the  origiaal  founder.  The  rnnaJiu  J  da 
caslTc,  M>  noted  for  its  hieloriCBl  reminiventrer,  have  been,  by  lb*  fliut  tuN  <i 
the  hon.  Col.  Howard,  partly  reslored  ;  the  principal  itaircaaa  bas  been  l>]al>4 
and  two  rooma  rendered  habitable. 

'Sir  Winston  Cburobill  mentionfl  this  tradition  as  a  EMtt;  Horeii  kioH  ■» 
These  reports  are  somewbal  slrBngllieDed  by  the  extravagant  ssiaiy  paid  mia 
laiuily  phyaician  bI  Kiting  Castle.  In  ihe  Fovlera  is  a  deed  Metuing  •  tOK  t« 
annum  U>  master  Pontio  de  Cod rtiDne,  late  physiciaii  to  king  Edwsrd  11,^  *■* 
lathe  qaeen-mother,  laabella;  the  ball  IBs  of  Norwich  are  eiijoined  MpafUatlU 


ISABBLLA.    OF    PRANCE.  169 

«ff  derangrairnt.  which  was  attributed  to  the  horrors  of  conscience. 
She  «*s  in  her  sii-aa it-thirtieth  year  when  her  seclusion  at  Castle  Rising 
Corn  men  red. 

The  king  het  son  generally,  when  in  Knglan{I,  viailed  her  twice  or 
1hric«  B  ynf)'  and  never  penniited  any  one  lo  name  her  in  his  presence 
otherwise  than  wiih  the  greatest  respect  It  is  to  he  observed  that  E<!- 
wmtTa  council,  in  regard  to  ihe  petitions  of  certain  individuals  for  the 
te^nrery  of  money  due  to  Iheni  during  her  government,  are  by  him 
nftrred  to  the  advice  of  queen  Isabella.  Her  name  in  carefully  guarded 
from  ail  repronch  in  the  rolls  of  parliament,  which  nevertheless  abound 
in  dtspatee  relative  lo  her  regency. 

T'here  is  one  petition,  from  the  poor  lieges  of  the  forest  of  Maccles- 
I  lo  king  Edward,  declaring  that  "Madame  his  mother  holds  ihe 
-1  as  her  heritage,  and  yet  the  boil  iff  of  Macclesfield  kills  her  venison 
!  destroys  her  wood."  Isabella  is  not  named  as  queen,  but  only  a> 
e  the  kiug''s  mother ;  the  king  replies,  **  Let  this  petition  be  shown 
to  the  queen,  thai  her  advice  may  be  learned  thereon." 

Daring  the  two  first  yeara  of  Isabella's  residence  at  Costle  Rising,  her 
•eclasioo  appears  most  rigorous^  but,  in  1332,  from  various  noiations, 
(be  ^1  mny  be  gatlieied  that  her  condiiion  was  aoieliorated.  That 
ytmr  king  Edward  declared,*  "  that,  aa  his  dearest  mother  had  simply 
and  vponinneously  surrendered  her  dower  into  his  hands,  he  iiaa  assignee 

-  divers  other  cosiles  and  lands  lo  the  amount  of  2000/."    The  same 
.  r  this  dower  was  settled  she  was  permitted  to  make  a  pilgrimage  to 

l^y  ahrine  of  IValsingbam,  not  far  from  her  residence  in  Norfolk. 

!  j  is  evidenced  from  the  ancient  Ijiiin  records  of  the  corporation  of 

[in,*  which  is  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Castle  Rising.     There  is  an 

-V  of'ZOi.  for  bread  sent  to  Isabella,  queen-dowager,  when  she  came 

:.',  Walsingham;  also  4/.  for  a  cask  of  wine,  3/.  IBs.  6d.  for  a  piece 

:  -A ax,  and  21.  for  barley;  also  3s.  for  the  carriage  of  ihese  purchases. 

King  Edward  restored  to  his  mother,  two  years  afterwards,  the  reve* 

nurs  (li  Ponthieu  aud  Montrieul,  which  were  originally  the  gift  of  her 

mutdered  lord.    The  same  year,  1334,  her  eon,  John  of  Eltham,  died  in 

the  bloom  of  life,  and  her  daughter,  Eleanor,  was  married  to  the  duke 

of  Gueldres;*  Edward  111.  likewise  visited  his  mother  at  Risings:  the 

neordu  of  Lynn  return  this  notice,  dated  1334.    "The  queen  laabelU 

Mnt  h«r  precept  to  the  mayor  to  provide  her  eight  carpenters,  lo  make 

praparatioois  for  ihe  king's  vbit."     lu  1337,  Inward  111.  again  made 

•onus  stay  at  Castle  Rising  with  his  mother,  and  Adam  de  Riffham,  of 

I^fut,  seat  him  a  present  of  wine  on  this  occasion.    Once  only  have  we 

efiiience  that  Isabella  visited  the  metropolis;  this  was  in  the  twellUi 

•  ir  of  Iier  son's  reign,  when  she  is  witness  to  the  delivery,  of  the  great 

i  JD  its  purse,  by  king  Edward  to  Robert  de  Burghersh,  in  the  gnmd 

.jrnbcr  of  llie  bishop  of  Winchester's  palace  in  Southwark. 

fnriMon.  'Ciileya  Faden,  635. 

MV  h«*e  be™  ravoured  wiih  llirw  extracu  hj  \lie  lion.  Mrs.  Grevillo  How>- 
,  ihpf  ore  of  hi«iorica!  importance,  »ince  ilipy  sel  Bl  roM  nil  doubis  re^t<l\«i 

-  fwi  of  lialyLU'i  i-Eidence  ai  Castle  Riaing.  *  Sec  sooceeAmt  hvskmiix. 
VOL.  U. —  IS 


I 

I 

I 


r 


I 

I 


J70  ISABELLA    OF    fiia:«cb. 

Parliameiil  granted  lo  Edward  III.  an  aid  of  30,000  sacks  of  nod; 
uid  by  a  wiil,  ilaied  Feb.  27,  1343,  ihe  baroria  of  ilic  exchequer  wm 
forbiddea  to  levy  any  part  from  ihc  lands  and  niaiiors  of  tht  qutsi^ 
mother, '^  because  it  was  unreasonable  ihal  a  person  exempt  aM  Dol 
■ummoned  lo  parliament  should  be  burlhened  with  aids  gnuiMd  by  m^ 
liament." '  The  same  year  Isabella  received  another  fjsil  from  ihi  Ul| 
Ueraon;  on  ihis  occasion  the  Lynn  records  note  that  lU.  13«.  104.  «M 
expended  for  meat  sent  to  ■'  our  lady  queen  Isabella."  Thers  is  u  iun 
oi il.  1Q«.  Id.,  paid  by  ihe  corpoTBtion,  for  a  present  sent  to  the  botK- 
hold  of  our  lord  the  king,  at  Thorndenes,  ai  his  first  coming  to  Riiiiigt 
and  3d.  for  a  horse  sent  by  a  messenger  to  Rising.  The  corpontioa 
also  is  answeraUe  for  V2d.  given  to  William  of  liikenhaui,  the  Utai^ 
bearer  at  Risings,  it.  'id.  given  to  the  messengers  and  miiisirela  ottptn 
Isabella,  23.  9d.  for  wine  sent  to  the  queen's  maid,  and  12^.,  a  lai|M 
for  the  earl  of  Sulfnlk's  minstrels.  Barrelled  aturgeoa  was  a  ityomt 
food  at  the  queen's  table,  end  it  tvos  certainly  very  costly,  when  mb* 
pared  with  the  price  of  other  viands.  The  corporation  of  Lynn  lb* 
mine  year  sent  gifts  of  a  pipe  of  wine  and  a  barrel  of  sturgison,  ooilini 
logeilier  9/.  12s.  9f/.,  to  their  lady,  queen  Isabella ;  and,  moreover,  pii 
John,  the  butcher,  money  for  conveying  the  said  gifia  to  Cnslle  Iti«n{. 
1'hey  senl  to  her  ireasurer  and  seneschal  gifis  of  vrine  that  cost  tOi, 
and  presented  I'ls.  to  John  de  Wyndsore  and  other  men  of  the  kii^ 
liimily,  when  at  Rising;  besides  2d.  given  to  a  senani  louktnf  n 
strayed  horses  from  the  castle;  likewise  iOd.  given  to  the  tWwmtf 
Rising,  when  he  came  lo  obtain  horses,  for  the  use  of  king  Ed«>nL  A 
barrel  of  sturgeon  cost  as  much  as  2^  I5j.;  the  men  of  Lynn  IWtt  Aal 
they  paid  111.  for  four  barrels  sent  at  diflerent  times,  as  gilW  to  ttwifMn 
a(  Castle  Rising,  and  20s.  for  two  quarler-barrels  of  sturgeon  mat  n  im 
servant  Peroie.  The  aupply  of  herrings,  as  gifts  from  ihc  men  a(Cpt> 
amounted  to  6/.,  and  Iliey  seni  her  103  quarters  of  wajc,  ai  a  cost  «4£ 
16s.  Id.  In  Ihe  eightcenih  year  of  his  reign  king  Edwan]  dale*  mvol 
letters  to  ihe  pope  from  Castle  Rising. 

A  curious  plan  for  ibe  annoyance  of  king  Edward  was  devbcd,  ■  t* 
year  1348,  by  the  French  monarch,  who  proposed  lo  make  ihe  fUO" 
dowager  of  France  and  Isabella,  the  mediatrices  of  a  peac«.  'Hiey  *ae 
to  meet  between  Calais  and  Boulogne;  but  E^lwarO  was  too  wi*e,tDU 
inio  the  snare  of  atiraciing  public  aileniion  to  the  guitljr  and  dcgiaM 
mother,  from  whom  his  claims  lo  the  throne  of  France  were  dMtwi 
babellu  vtAs  not  sufleied  lo  lake  any  pan  in  the  ncgotiattua :  lh«  ar- 
ceeding  documents  prove  that  Ihe  treaty  was  completed  by  the  ilakt<' 
Lancaster  and  llie  count  of  Eu.' 

In  the  ihinv'firsl  year  of  his  reign  king  Edward  grsnted  nf<^-c*^ 
lo  William  de  Leitb,  lo  wait  on  queen  Isabella  at  her  caslle  of  Itai^ 
he  coming  from  Scotland,  probably  with  uews  from  her  daaghur,ilM<* 


1  French,  Edwaidi   tvplte  m 


1 


ISABELLA    OF    FRANCE.  171 

Joanna,  who  was  then  very  sick.    This  person  was  physician  to  the 
queen  of  Scotland.' 

The  next  year  Isaballa  died  at  Castle  Rising,  August  22d,  1358,  aged 
sixty-three.  She  chose  the  church  of  the  Grey  Friars,  where  the  man- 
gled remains  of  her  paramour  Mortimer  had  been  buried,  eight-and- 
tu'enty-years  previously,  for  the  place  of  her  interment ;  and,  carrying 
her  cliarecteristic  hypocrisy  even  to  the  grave,  she  was  buried  with  the 
heart  of  her  murdered  husband  on  her  breast.  King  Edward  gave  his 
mother  a  pompous  funeral,  and  issued  a  precept  to  the  sheriff  of  London 
and  Middlesex,  November  20th,  to  cleanse  the  streets  from  dirt  and  all 
impurities,  and  to  gravel  Bishopsgate-street  and  Aldgate,  against  the 
coming  of  the  body  of  his  dearest  mother,  queen  Isabella ;  and  directs 
tlie  officers  of  his  exchequer  to  disburse  0/.  for  that  purpose.  Isabella 
was  interred  in  the  choir  of  the  Grey  Friars,  within  Newgate,  and  had  a 
fine  alabaster  tomb  erected  to  her  memoiy.  She  had  given  62/.  towards 
the  building  of  this  church.  It  was  usual  for  persons  buried  in  the  Grey 
Friars  to  be  wrapped  in  the  garment  of  the  order,'  as  a  security  against 
the  attacks  of  the  foul  fiend.  Queen  Isabella  was  buried  in  tliat  gar- 
ment, and  few  stood  more  in  need  of  such  protection. 

According  to  Bloomfield,  local  tradition  asserts  that  queen  Isabella  lies 
buried  in  Castle  Rising  church,  and  that  all  the  procession  to  the  Grey 
Friars  in  London  was  but  an  empty  pageant  In  confirmation  of  this 
assertion,  they  point  out  a  simple  grey  stone,  with  tliis  inscription  deeply 
cul — 

^  ISABELLA  RBOINA.^ 

Antiquaries,  however,  are  of  opinion  that  this  stone  covers  the  grave 
of  one  of  the  officers,  or  ladies,  who  died  in  her  service  at  Castle  Rising; 
but  it  is  also  possible  that  she  might  have  bequeathed  her  heart  to  her 
pariah  church,  and  that  this  inscription  nmy  denote  the  spot  where  it 
was  interred. 

An  effigy  of  Isabella  is  to  be  seen,  in  the  most  exquisite  preservation, 
among  the  figures  which  adorn  the  tomb  of  her  son,  John  of  Eltliam, 
at  Westminster  Abbey.  It  is  the  third  from  the  right  hand,  when  the 
examiner  stands  with  his  back  to  St  Edward^s  chapel.  The  workman- 
ship of  this,  and  the  other  statues  of  John  of  fUtham's  kindred,  is  of 

*  Bloom fielfl's  Norfolk.  Public  Acu.  WnUingham.  Bloomfield.  Stow.  London. 
PennanL  The  F(£dera  implies,  '*that  William  de  Leith  was  employed  to  re- 
quest qu^en  Isabella  to  act  as  mediatrix  between  David  and  Edward,  regarding 
the  rarmom  of  David,  king  of  Scotland.*' 

■  Pcrbaps  Isabella,  in  the  decline  of  life,  had  been  admitted  into  the  third  order 
of  St  Francis,  inntiiuted,  about  twenty  years  Ijofore  her  death,  for  lay-penitents 
wbo  were  not  bound  by  conventual  vows.  That  she  made  some  pretence  to 
piety  may  be  inferred  from  the  following  list  of  her  relics,  for  which  Edward  III. 
^ve  a  receipt  *'  to  his  beloved  chaplain  F«dmund  dc  Rammersby  on  behalf  of 
bis  mother,  the  first  year  of  her  imprisonment: — Two  crystal  vases,  containing 
minute  bones,  relics  of  the  holy  Innocents;  one  silver  fla»k,  containing  relics  of 
St.  Sylvester;  part  of  the  side  of  St  I^wrence  enclosed  in  silver;  aud  a  joint 
of  Jolin  the  Baptist's  little  finger. •—CoZfyj  Fadtra,  p.  825. 


ISABELLA 


'    VKANca. 


the  iDosl  delicate  kini] ;  the  easiness  of  the  attitudes,  united  with  nrinitt 
attention  to  details,  denote  an  artist  of  Bu(>eTior  ffeniue.  Tleeffigiaut 
bII  cast  in  bronze,  and  the  row  opposite  to  Si.  Edward's  chapd  m  to 
well  secured  from  the  mischievous  assautis  of  abbey  depfedalon.  Vf  ik 
griik  of  thick  iron,  which  parts  the  tomb  from  tiie  poswagr,  ihu  liuj 
are  in  the  same  state  as  when  they  came  from  the  hands  nf  thf  UUL 
First  stands  the  mother  of  Isabella,  the  queen  of  France  and  Fi'tnne: 
she  exactly  resembles  her  pottrait  engraved  in  Montfaucon-  Then  (tanii 
the  eSigy  of  Isabella's  father,  Philip  le  Bel.  Next  ia  givev  ImtirUa  he^ 
self;  her  head  is  remarkably  broad  and  lot*,  and  she  has  consiitnlile 
breadth  over  the  cheek-bones ;  she  b  very  like  her  mother,  but  her  fri- 
lures  &re  pretty,  with  a  laughing  expre«siun;  the  elligy  »  >d«iiiiMit 
hers  by  the  garb  of  royal  widowhood.  She  wears  a  crown  on  tlir  tuf 
of  her  hood,  her  veil  liangs  on  each  side  of  her  fece,  the  wiitoo'i  b»t 
appears  half  covering  her  chin,  and  a  sceptre  is  in  her  hand.  Soeh  im 
certainly  her  dress  at  C^lle  Rising,  at  (he  death  of  her  son,  princt:  Join, 
in  1334,  and  such  must  have  been  her  costume  during  tho  nmakiuSttol 
her  life ;  since  widows  in  ihoss  times  wore  the  dreaa  >>f  BUHtniiu  ill 
their  lives,  unless  they  found  second  husbouds.  The  cfBgT  of  htt  nv 
dered  lord,  Edward  11., stands  next  hers;  il  is  extremely-  llk«  tfaMontii 
tomb  at  Gloucester. 

Isabella's  virtuous  daug^hier,  Joanna  qacen  of  Scotland,  the  UdAI 
and  devoted  consort  of  the  unfortunate  Dnvid  lirace,  lurviret)  her  mate 
onlv  a  few  davH.  and  was  interred  in  the  elnirdi  at  ih«  Giwr  HAhI 


PHILIPPA  OF  HAINAUIT, 

QUEEN  OF  EDWARD  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ynvioDS  nitncliTn^nt  or  Edwi^rd  ITI.  nnd  Philiiipa — Hii  ■ojoiim  ai  ber  tktlwi'l 
Ptmri — Her  btoooiing  bmiiiy — Demonrfeil  in  mfljriago — Pbifipp*  arriTea  in 
LotwIoD^Rceeption — Pbilippa  travels  lo  Yoik — MarrieJ  iheie — Her  clowar — 
C<woQin[oii — Claim  on  her  thoaa,  bed,  and  silver  bauna — Bitlh  of  lier  elileit 
•on — QueeD  aoiuiihei  hlin — HerportiailB — TourDamcni — DaiiKarous  acoident 
— King's  futy  —  Queen's  inleccfuion — Philippa's  woollpn  msnuraEluierB — 
Scstcb  n'ar — Queen  besieged  in  Bntnhonnigh  coslle — Krth  of  tlie  piincsaa 
lOT"! — Of  the  princess  Joanna — Of  William  of  Halfield — Do«th  of  Iliii  pfino* 
— Dearth  of  the  qaeen'i  father — Poverty  Of  iU«  ting — Pawns  queen's  etown — 
Philippa's  rasideiica  in  FlBoderi — Bicth  of   prince  Linnel — Queen's  visit  M 

Kofwich— KingB  noTal  victory — Qucena  Ttmnh  boh— King  Eilwaids  dial- 

IcDfe — Pscificalioa  hj  ilio  queens  molhf  r — Eilrcnio  poverty  of  Edword  and 
Phllippn — Theii  secirt  deptirlnre  lYom  GlienI — Embark  wiili  their  infant — 
Luul  a.)  the  Tower — King's  linger — CouiileH  of  Salisbnty— Order  of  ilie  G»t- 
lei — Philippa  aisisu  al  the  Bnt  chapter — Reeideoae  u  Woodsioclc. 

Tax  happy  union  of  the  illustrious  Philippa  with  hpr  thrice  renowned 
lofd  bad  been  previously  cemented  by  iduIubI  preference.  manH'cated  in 
the  first  sweet  springUme  of  existence,  when  prince  Edward  look  refuge 
with  his  mother,  queen  Isabella,  al  ihe  court  of  HaiiiaulL 

"Count  William  of  Hainaiilt  had.  at  that  time,  four  daughters,"  ««ys 
Froiuart;  "these  were  Margaret.  Philippa,  Joanna,  and  Isabel.  The 
yogng  prince,  during  his  mother's  residence  in  Hainault,  paid  more  court 
and  ttieniiou  to  Philippa  than  to  any  of  the  others ;  the  younj;  lady  also 
conversed  with  him  more  frequently,  and  sought  his  company  oUener. 
than  any  of  her  sisters."  This  was  in  1326,  when  prince  Edward  was 
in  his  fifteenlli  year,  and  the  lady  Philippa  a  few  months  younger.  She 
powessed  some  Flemish  beauty,  being  tall  in  stature,  and  adorned  with 
th«  brillianl  complexion  fur  which  the  women  of  that  country  are  cele- 

A  poel  of  her  lime  has  commemoraled  "  her  roseate  hue  and  beauty 
Vr^l;"  and  we  can  well  imagine,  though  Phdippa's  matixin  charms 
Wsme  a  little  too  exuberant  in  after  life,  that,  as  a  sweet-tempered  Flem- 
isbeirl  in  her  fifteenth  year,  her  early  bloom  was  very  lovely. 

The  ynuihftd  lovers,  after  residing  together  in  the  palace  of  the  count 

of  HainaulL,  at  Valenciennei,  for  about  a  fortnight,  were  separated.     Ed- 

nunl  embarked,  with  his  mother  and  John  of  llainault,  on  the  dangerous 

upedition  of  invading  his  unfortunate  father's  kingdom,  while  his  h«^«A 

15  •  f^\.-\-S^ 


I 
I 
J 


174 


Fill 


IPPA 


ACLT. 


was  lert  in  h  state  of  iincerlainty,  whether  the  exigencies  t 
and  the  caprice  of  relatives  would  ultimately  permit  to  be 
hands  of  those  whcwe  hearts  had  already  elected  each  other. 
Although  B  decided  alTection  Buhsisied  between  yoang  E 
Philippa,  it  was  dqi  considered  in  accordance  with  the  rtm 
of  that  era,  for  the  heir  of  England  lo  acknowledge  lIiU  he  u 
of  hie  heart  without  tlie  consent  of  his  porliameai  anil  cooni 
Isabella  undertook  the  arrangement  of  this  aSiir,  and  soon  le^ 
RUthoritiea  to  the  decision,  tliut  a  daughter  oC  the  c 
would  be  the  most  desirable  alliance  for  her  son  ^  but,  evei 
the  fifth  of  August,  1327,  ihe  particular  daughter  of  thai  G 
pointed  out  in  the  Jocumeni  re<iue8iing  the  dispensation  at 
the  words  are,  "  to  marry  a  daughter  of  that  noblemant  Wil 
of  lloinault,  Holland,  and  Zealand,  and  lord  of  FriesUad, 
name  of  Philippa  is  not  once  mentioned  throughout  the  li 
the  lovers  remained  seven  months  aAer  the  coronation  of 

The  council,  ai  last,  gravely  decided  thai  Adam  Orleion,'  tl 
bishop  of  Hereford,  should  visit  ilia  court  of  Hainaull,  aud  dio 
the  daughters  of  the  count,  the  young  lady  who  seemed  moa 
be  the  queen  of  England.  As  the  choice  of  the  bishop  and  1 
Philippa,  the  young  king  had  certainly  informed  Adam  C  ' 
fidence,  which  princess  among  the  fair  sisterhood  was  Ihe  ■ 
of  his  heart.  The  proceedings  of  the  bishop  are  thttv  nai 
lost  rhyming  chronicler,  Ilardijig: — • 

Hd  wot  rotth  then  to  Hainault,  for  a  wits, 

A  luihop  and  other  lords  teir;|H>ra1, 

Among  ibfta-fl/i  our  lords,  for  bigb  piadenoe, 

Of  Ibe  Iniliop  asked  counsel  and  sonieno*, 

K  Which  dnuglilei  of  tlis  Are  sliould  b«  oat  Ifam 

WliD  coiinteU'd  tlius  with  sad  avisemrnl, 

To  which  the)'  all  Hccorded  wiib  ona  mindi 
And  cluwe  Pttilippe  tbal  wu  full  (emJniiM, 
As  the  wise  biabop  iliJ  determine; 
But  then  among  Ihvxa-ttt/t  ibej  lauded  w 
Tlioss  lords  then  said,  tbeii  bishop  judge 
The  beauty  of  a  lailf.* 
>  The  luane  of  Philippa  it  not  laentioned  till  the  iait  U 
wn*  execulcd,  daled  Sept.  3,  1337. — i'mStra,  vol 
■HiiL  Biahopi  of  Wincheiter,  vol.  i. 

'  Harding  was  ■  LiDcolnshtre  man,  a  chnmicler,  and  an  a 
m   Ihe  family  of  the  eall  of  Nonhuiubeiland,  ' 
Rirliard  II.     In  his  youth  be  acted  as  aecrelaiy  ta  his  tont,  aad  • 
Ihe  bottle  of  Shrewaboiy.     Ue  is.  theielbre,  nearly  a  o 
hi«  onthoriiy  i*  ftml.    Ui>  age  must  have  t>ean  eiu-eme,  as  ho  tivadlfl 
wliole  of  Ihfl  reipu  of  the  bouse  of  Lancaster ;  wai  pensioned  hf  }^ 
9W.  pel  aonuni,  and  finally  presented  his  complete  biilorf  M  Ed«^ 
must  then  have  boon  more  than  uioeiy.     He  mentions  flee  da^li' 
uauh;  tlie  eldril,  Sybella,  who  had  hecu  ooniracied  to  EdwanI  lU-ia 
wm*  dead  ai  this  lime. 
*  Thi*  passage,  amoi^  many  aiben,  will  piove  dial  penpMl,  k 


PHILIPPA  OF  HAINAULT.  175 

>illy  after  the  young  king  Edward  completed  his  sixteenth  year,'' 
■oifl»art,  ^  his  council  sent  a  bishop,  two  knight  bannerets,  and 
le  clerks,  to  Sir  John  of  Hainault,  to  beg  of  him  to  assist  the 
kinff  of  En^and  in  his  suit  to  one  of  his  nieces,  since  the  young 
ould  loTe  her  more  dearly  than  any  other  lady,  on  his  account 
n  feasted  and  paid  many  honours  to  these  messengers.    He  took 

0  Valenciennes,  where  his  brother  the  count  of  Hainault  gave 
ich  sumptuous  entertainment  as  would  be  tiresome  to  relate.  He 
illingly  complied  with  their  requests,  if  the  pope  and  holy  church 
objection.    Two  of  the  knights  and  some  able  clerks  were  des- 

1  to  Arignon ;  for  without  the  pope's  dispensation  it  could  not 
f,  on  account  of  their  near  relationship,  for  their  two  mothers 
nisins-german.    As  soon  as  they  came  to  Arignon,  the  pope  and 

consented  most  benignantly.  On  their  return  to  Valenciennes 
ate  preparations  were  made  for  the  dress  and  equipage  of  a  lady, 
IS  considered  worthy  to  be  the  queen  of  England." 
king,  then  at  Nottingham,  empowered  the  bishop  of  Lichfield 
rentry,'  on  the  8th  of  October,  1327,  to  conclude  his  marriage 
e  noble  damsel,  Philippa  of  Hainault.     He  likewise  charges  ^  his 

Bartholomew  de  Burghersh,  constable  of  Dover,  to  receive  and 
le  into  his  kingdom  that  noble  person,  William  count  of  Hainault, 
e  illustrious  damsel  Philippa,  his  daughter,  and  the  familiars  of 
[  count  and  damsel ;  and  he  charges  all  and  singular  his  nobility 
)ple  of  the  counties  through  which  the  count,  damsel,  and  fiuni- 
ly  pass,  to  do  them  honour  and  give  them  needful  aid."'  It  was 
ry  for  the  lady  Philippa  and  her  escort  to  travel  across  England 

the  royal  bridegroom,  who  was  then  performing  his  warlike  no- 
on the  Scottish  border,  under  the  auspices  of  his  mother  and 
er,  against  the  great  Robert  Bruce. 

ppa  was  married  at  Valenciennes  by  procuration,  soon  afler  the  date 
mstrument.  She  embarked  for  Ennand  at  Wisan,  landed  at  Dover 
.  her  suite,  and  arrived  in  Liondon,  December  23, 1327,  with  a  reti« 
I  display  of  magnificence  in  accordance  with  the  ^eat  wealth  of  her 
'.  She  was  escorted  by  her  uncle,  John  of  Hainault,  and  not  by 
ler,  as  was  expected.  A  solemn  procession  of  the  clergy  intro- 
ler  into  the  city,  and  she  was  presented  by  the  lord  mayor  and 
in  of  London  with  a  service  of  plate  worth  300/.,  as  a  marriage 
benefaction  prompted  most  likely  by  the  g^titude  of  the  citiatens 

by  our  ancestors  as  a  most  desirable  quaiiflcation  in  a  queen-consort, 
reason,  these  biograpliies  are  compelled  by  truth  to  dwell  on  the  per- 
I vantages  possessed  by  our  queens.  The  queens  of  England,  down  to 
le  of  Arragon,  seem,  with  few  exceptions,  to  have  been  the  fineet  women 
time. 

tra,  vol.  iv.  Adam  Orleton,  who  began  the  negotiation,  had  not  the 
of  finishing  the  treaty.  He  had  at  this  time  fallen  into  disgrace 
ibella  and  Mortimer,  for  accepting  the  rich  bishopric  of  Winchester 
the  consent  of  the  crown,  and  pertinaciously  refusing  to  pay  a  br.ba 
»ugh  to  satisfy  the  rapacity  of  the  queen-mother.  The  attnte  priest  oou- 
ifae  was  too  much  in  hif.  power  to  need  such  comideration.  (See  pre- 
iography.)  'Dated  at  CUpttowe.    Fodera,  voL  Iv. 


I 


170  PRILIPPA    OF    llAINAtLT. 

for  k  tmtT  of  fioanneirp,  caublishej  brlwaen  Eo^uid  ftni)  the  \/rw 
t\ianUin  in  tha  preceiliag  summer,  when  itieve  iiuplialfl  were  Rnl  giub- 
Ikly  ■f^UiinL  The  king  «u  titill  will)  hia  ann^  in  ibe  nardi,  Tuik 
being  hu  heail-quviera ;  ami  tlioutfb  Loiiilun  was  in  an  upraorltnui  rait 
of  Mjoicing  U  her  arrival,  th«  royal  bride  tefl  il  imtuoilialely  to  nwel  h« 
lord.  Bui  there  wen  reasiin^  and  sumptuoui  eoiertainiueaU  in  London  ' 
for  threo  weeks  aAcr  hrr  Uniling. 

The  h«nil«  of  (IdwtnJ  an<t  Pliilippa  were  oniled  at  Tork,  Januujt  St, 
13^8  The  maj^nificence  of  ihe  esiiuugala  was  hcijghlcned  bv  the  mti 
etiUy  of  a  hunli^(^d  of  llie  principu]  uubiliiy  of  Scotland,  wno  hn  ■>• 
nved  in  onler  to  conclude  a  lasting  peace  with  England,  cetneoled  b^  Dm 
marriage  of  the  king's  Utile  sister  Joanna.  Tlio  pEu-ltuucut  and  royil 
council  wen  likewise  convened  at  York,  and  the  dower  of  the  EngUtli 
nobiiJij,  then  in  arms,  were  tsaembled  round  the  young  king  and  hj> 
bride. 

The  n>yal  pair  kept  Easter  at  Tork,  and  aAer  the  final  pnce  witfi 
Scutlontl  they  ratamcd  southward  rroni  Lincoln  to  Northampton,  wnl 
Itnolly  settled,  in  June,  at  the  heaulifnl  suniitter  palace  of  Woodftock. 
wliifh  seems  the  principal  abidin)(-phice  of  Philijipa,  while  her  younj 
husband  was  yet  under  tlie  tutelage  of  Mortiuior  and  tlie  queeii-ni<i6ei. 

A  dead  Filencc  is  kept  in  all  tlie  public  documeuta  regarding  ibi 
unount  nf  Philippe's  portion,  fof  ressona  good,  since  the  queen-fOAlher 
had  already  spent  it.  As  for  the  usual  dower  of  tlte  queens  of  EiigUn^ 
the  whole  of  iu  lauds  were  possesied  by  the  quocn-muther ;  bui  byi 
deed  executed  at  If  orthunpton,'  May  Sdi,  •■  ihe  king,"  says  the  Tenoi- 
ble  father,  Hoger,  bishop  of  Lichfield  and  Coventry,  "  had  promised  tM 
l&jaOOI.  pet  annum  of  lands  should  be  settled  on  her." 

[«abclla  provided  so  well  for  herself  and  her  daughter-in-law,  thildl 
lefl  her  son,  ihe  aovereign  of  England,  ncariy  pennUesa. 

Afler  assisting  at  the  marriage  of  his  niece,  sir  Jnha  of  Uaioanll » 
turned  to  his  native  country,  laden  witli  jewels  and  rich  presents,  fn 
of  the  Ilainaullers  who  had  escorted  her  lo  England  stayed  with  oun 
PhilippB ;  but  among  tliose  who  remained  was  a  youth,  nanwd  air  Wv>- 
lelet  de  Manny,'  wlioee  oHice  was  to  carve  fiic  her. 

The  corooalioii  of  the  young  queen  did  not  take  place  till  more  ^M 
two  years  after  her  marriage.  The  king,  Irooi  his  palaoe  at  EllhaBt 
issued  a  mmimcnis,  dated  the  SSth  of  February,  1330,  »  for  his  MuTViJ 
nnd  bithful  Banholomevr  de  Bnrghersh  to  appear  wiih  his  barons  of  ihf 
Cinque  Porta,  lo  do  their  customary  dnlies  st  the  coronation  of  hit 
deareul  queen,  Philippe,  which  takes  place,  if  God  be  propilious,  tbi 
Sunday  next  to  the  feaat  of  St.  Peter,  in  tlie  cathedral  of  Westminster" 
ll  look  place  on  that  day  with  no  particular  splenilour,  for  tlie  rtptciiy 
of  Irabolla  and  Mortimer  had  absorbed  all  the  funds  provided  lo  suppoR 
the  diguitv  of  the  crown.  But  the  period  of  their  sway  drew  near  iU 
close.  I'he  young  lion  of  England  had  already  manifested  g^ns  of  dis- 
dain, at  the  ignoble  restrunt,  in  which  he  was  held. 


Fiptlcrii,  vol  iv. 

Froittail.    This  alMndant  of  qoaen  Philippa  )«  lu  Wallar 
of  the  flrsl  luugbu  ot  ^e  k"^<3- 


Ifara^,  sesric  J 


pntLipp.v  or  iiAixAL'LT.  1*7 

'nt  wu  «umniiinc<j  ihal  spiin^  at  Woodviotk;  wliiiher  PhU 

hrr  roynl  lonl  had  retired  after  the  coronaiion.     A  siitgular 

is  dtled  ffoni  thence,  the  surceedine  April,  in  which  the  king 

lia  treasurer,  "ihal  his  fuiihfiil  and  l>eloved  Robert  de  VerS) 

of  dronl.  was  heredilarj-  chamberlain  lo  the  queens  of  Eng- 

«II  coronations  the  ancestors  of  the  earl  had  oHiciated  in  the 

ity ;  and  tlinl  in  consequence  he  claimed  the  bed  in  which 

hail  slept,  her  sboea,  aud  three  silver  basins  —  one.  in  vrhich 

(1  her  hetul,'  and  two  olheta  in  which  she  washed  her  hands. 

log  desires  tliai  the  earl  may  freely  receive  the  basins  and  the 

t  ai  for  the  bed,  the  treasurer  is  to  pay  the  earl  chamberlaiu  a 

marks  M  a  compeitsaiiou  for  his  claim  thereon." 

idle  young  king  was  yet  under  the  dominion  of  his  unworthy 

fhu  consort,  Phdippa,  gave  birth  lo  her  firsl-bom,  afterwards  the 

I  hero  Edward,  sumamed  the  Black  Prince.     lie  first  saw  the 

lie  palace  of  Woodslitck,  June  IS,  1330.    The  great  beauty  of 

L  his  size,  and  the  tirm  texture  of  his  limbs,  tilled  every  one 

itration  who  saw  him.     Like  that  renowned  queen-regent  of 

Blanche  of  Csstillc,  mother  of  St.  Louis,  Philippa  chose  to 

Iwr  babe  at  her  own  bosom.     It  is  well  known,  that  the  por- 

the  lovely  young  Philippa  and  her  princely  boy  formed  the 

Biodels,  for  the  \  ir^in  and  Child,  at  that  era. 

tr  to  ceiebrsie  the  birth  of  the  heir  of  England,  a  grand  tour- 

wu  proclaimed  at  London.    Philippa  and  all  the  female  nobility 

Mted  to  be  present.    Thirteen  knights  were  engaged  on  each 

■  the  tournament  was  held  in  Cheapsiile,  between  Wood-slreet 
Hn-«tr(«t;  the  highway  was  covered  with  sand  to  prevent  the 
Ibet  fram  slipping,  and  a  grand  temporary'  tower  was  erected, 
;  boarding,  filled  with  seats  for  the  accommodation  of  the  queen 
ladies.  But  scarcely  had  this  fair  company  entered  the  tower, 
be  scaffolding  suddenly  gave  way,  and  all  present  fell  lo  the 
with  the  queen.  Though  no  one  was  iniurea.  all  were  terribly 
Bd,  and  great  confusion  ensued.  When  the  youiig  king  saw  the 
Ilia  wife,  he  flew  into  a  tempest  of  rage,  and  vowed  that  the 
carpenters^  who  had  constructed  the  building,  should  instantly 
e  death.  Whether  he  wotild  thus  far  have  stretched  the  pre- 
I  of  an  English  sovereign  can  never  be  known,  for  his  aneclic 
..■Caroely  recovered  from  the  terror  of  her  fall,  threw  hemi'lf  on 

■  before  llie  incensed  king,  and  so  eflectiially  pleaded  for  the 
of  the  poor  men,  that  Edward  became  pacilied,  and  forgave  them. 
Idaeline  of  the  year  133U,  Edward  III.  ehook  off  the  restraints 
ivpon  him  by  his  unworthy  mother  and  her  ferocious  paramour, 
lilted  justice  on  the  great  criminal  Mortimer,  in  the  stmiintry 
(y  way,  in  which  he  was  always  inclined  lo  act,  when  under  the 

o(  fmatwot  and  at  a  distance  from  his  queen.  No  one  can  won- 
he  waa  impatient  to  destroy  the  murderer  of  bia  father  and  of 


I 


I 


1?8  F  n  I L I  p  r  A  ( 

liis  uncle.  Still  this  eagerness  lo  execute  siiddea  vengeonce  niicirt  IM 
influence  of  rage,  whether  justly  or  unjustly  excited,  is  a  trail  ia  ilw 
churacter  ot  tliia  tnighly  sovereign  which  appeara  in  his  yuuih;  inJ 
which  it  is  necessaty  (o  point  out  in  order  to  develop  the  beautiful  and 
nearly  perfect  character  of  his  queen. 

No  sooner  were  the  reins  of  government  in  the  hands  of  tlie  yoimg 
king,  than  he  vigorously  exerted  himeelf  for  the  refonnalion  nf  tht 
ahuseB,  for  which  the  adminislration  of  Mortimer  was  tnfumous;  imnt 
excellent  laws  were  made,  and  others  revived,  to  the  grenl  satislaction 
of  the  English  people.  But,  above  all  things,  the  king  had  the  wiKlmn 
to  provide  a  profllable  occupation  for  the  active  enei^ies  of  bis  pec^C- 

"'  Blessed  be  the  memory  of  king  Edward  HI.  and  Philippa  of  Haioaull 
his  i^ueen,  who  first  invented  clothes;"  says  a  monastic  chronidfr. 
Start  not,  gentle  reader ;  ilie  English  wore  cloihca  before  the  lime  of  tiu 
excellent  queen ;  the  gntieful  monk,  by  lliis  invocation,  merely  anot 
to  imply,  that  by  her  advice,  ihc  English  first  manufactured  clolk.' 

Philippa,  young  as  she  was,  well  remembered  the  sources  of  [vm- 
perity  which  enriched  her  own  country.  She  established  ■  mann&e- 
luring  colony  at  Norwich,  in  the  year  1335 ;  but  the  first  steps  lowinb 
this  good  work  were  commeuced  so  early  as  ilie  3d  of  JuIt,  133\, 
within  a  few  months  of  the  assumption  of  power,  by  the  youthful  kmf 
A  letter  so  dated,  from  lincohi,  is  addressed  to  John  Kempe  of  rtandm 
clolh-weaver  in  wool,  in  which  he  b  informed,  "  that  if  he  will  copK  lo 
England  with  the  servants  and  apprentices  of  his  mystery,  and  wilblw 
goods  and  chattels,  and  with  any  dyers  and  fullers  who  may  be  tDdiBid 
willingly  to  accompany  him  beyond  seas,  and  exercise  their  myiien'* 
in  the  kingdom  of  England,  tliey  shall  have  letters  of  proiecti'oo  ai 
assistance  in  their  eeitlement." ' 

Philippa  occasionally  visited  Kempe,  and  the  rest  of  her  colour  in 
Norwich.  Nor  did  she  disdain  lo  blend  all  the  magnificence  of  chinltj 
with  her  patronage  of  the  productive  arts.  Like  a  beneficent  queen  ^ 
the  hive,  she  cherished  and  protected  the  working  bees.  At  a  mtvi 
of  her  life,  which,  in  common  characiers,  is  considered  girlhixM.  At 
had  enriched  one  of  the  cities  of  her  realm  by  her  statistical  wnJon- 
There  was  wisdom  likewise  in  the  grand  tournaments  she  held  at  S» 
wich,  which  might  be  considered  us  exhibitions  showing  ilie  cilimi 

'A  more  ooherEnt  notice  of  Ihis  greai  hpnefit  lo  England  is  (Cina  hfT^^ 
who  dpflnea  the  diBerence  bc<we«ii  D  [HUtoml  and  ■  manubcturing  tant  \m  I* 
nsual  impressive  though  ()u«in(  stj-le.     "Tlie  king,  t       '  -    .  ~  ..        -.. 


Ilie  tnule  of  cloihing.     Our  king  thei?forr  resolved,  if  posdbls.  W  tidaw  tt 

trarlr  lo  his  own  eountrjrmen.  who  as  fei  weie  ignonni,  a>  kDaWla(  M  ■■■' 

whni  U  do  with  their  wool  than  tlie  Bheegi  that  bore  it." 
•  FiEiJerH.     PcobabJy  the  name  of  John  Kempe  ii  derived  &otn  oonb.  (Mt> 

nrument  being  used  in  bis  employment,)  and  means  Joba  of  riia  Cknli.  u  it 
old  Englisli  of  the  verb  "to  c>>n\b"  it  to  kmp<.    Kemtra  was  IhM^] 
the  Norwich  woollen  manuGuivaiet. 


~  PBILIPPA    OF     HAIKADLT.  171) 

how  veil,  in  time  of  need,  ihey  could  be  prolected  by  a  gallant  nobility. 
These  festii'sls  displayed  the  dprensive  cU^s,  and  the  productive  clasa, 
in  admirable  union  and  benelicial  iniercoutsp ;  while  the  example  or  tht 
queen  promoted  mutual  respect  beliveen  them.  Edward  HI.  did  not 
often  lake  part  In  these  visits  lo  Norwich,  which  were  gcnemlly  paid 
by  the  queen  while  her  huslmnd  spent  some  days  wiili  his  guilty  and 
miMrable  mother,  at  Cusile  Rising  in  Norfolk  ; '  a  strong  proof  that  he 
did  not  consider  Isabella  a  fit  eomjianioti  for  his  Philippa. 

It  is  likely  that  the  eslahliahmeni  of  the  Flemish  artists  in  England 
had  Bome  connexion  with  the  visit  that  Jeanne  of  Valois,  countess  of 
Itainaultf  paid  to  her  royal  daughter,  in  the  autumn  of  1331.  The 
mother  of  Philippa  was  a  wise  and  good  woman,  who  loved  peace  and 
pmmnted  the  peaceful  arts.  During  her  sojourn  in  England  she  further 
•tren^iheued  the  beneficial  alliance  between  England  and  the  Low  Coun- 
tricf,  hy  negotiating  a  marriage  between  the  king's  sister,  Eleanora,  and 
the  duke  of  Gueldres,  which  was  soon  after  celebrated. 

Edward  III.  commenced  a  furious  war  on  Scotland  in  133.1.  Hi* 
dlthful  qu«en  followed  his  campaign,  but  while  the  king  laid  siege  to 
Berwick,  Philippa  was  in  some  danger  at  Bamborough  Castle,  where 
•he  resided  that  summer;  for  Douglas,  the  valiant  guardian  of  his  youn^ 
kmg.  tnmed  ihB  tables  on  the  English  invader,  and  made  a  forced  marrb, 
to  lay  fierce  siege  to  Bamborough,'  hoping  that  Edward,  alarmed  at  the 
lUnger  of  his  queen^  would  reliniiuish  Berwick,  and  fly  to  her  assistance, 
boi  Edward  knew  too  well  the  strength  of  "king  Ina's  castle  broad  and 
hish."  and  the  firm  mind  of  his  Philippe,  to  swerve  from  his  designs  on 
Bnvick. 

Tel  the  temper  of  Edward  was  certainly  aggravated  into  ferociousness 
by  the  attempt  lo  capture  his  queen;  and  he  was  led  by  sudden  passion 
into  the  cruel  murder  of  the  iwo  young  Sealons.  These  unfortunate 
youths  were  the  sons  of  the  governor  of  Berwick,  either  given  by  him 
•s  hostages  lo  Edward  III.,  for  the  performance  of  certain  terms  of  sur- 
TFnder,  or,  what  was  still  worse,  were  prisoners  put  to  death,  because 
their  fether  would  not  surrender  bis  trust.  Either  way,  the  act  was 
aiiociouE ;  perhaps  it  would  have  been  prevented  if  the  just  and  gracious 
PhilipfKt  had  been  by  the  side  of  her  incensed  lord.  But  Philippa  waa 
closely  besieged  in  Bamborough :  and  her  danger  exasperated  her  hus- 
baad  tnio  an  act,  really  worse  than  any  performed  by  his  stem  grand- 
■te,  Edward  I.  The  king  knew  that  the  Douglas  was  no  tfiller  in  any 
wnric  be  took  in  hand ;  he  therefore  resolved,  by  a  desperate  blow,  to 
take  Berwick,  and  march  to  relieve  his  queen  from  the  attacks  of  the 
Seouish  regent.  He  certainly  gained  Berwick  from  the  stunned  and 
paralysed  father;  hut  by  the  munlcr  of  the  hapless  youths,  he  for  ever 
•uinol  bis  chiralric  name. 

Douglas  and  Edward  joined  battle,  not  far  from  Berwick,  soon  aAer, 
■  Hi  ihr  Scots  were  overpowered  at  the  disastrous  battle  of  Malidi 


I 


»M  th«  ptrcedins  hlagnphy.  ■  Gut)ui«,  Jblio  Hub 


J 


180  P  II  I  L I  r  F  \    OF    ][  A  I  >  A  I'  L  T  ■ 

GdwarJ,  with  Ins  ijiieen,  Aflerwards  triumpliantly  eDtered  Berwidi,  wliid 
lias  ever  Bince  remained  anneieJ  to  the  English  crown.' 

Edward  and  PhUippa  were  in  England  during  the  wiiilec  of  133<.  J 
llie  palace  of  WootUiock,  on  Fpbruary  the  5th,  the  queen  hrnu^ht  rnl 
ihe  world  Elizabeth,'  (likewise  called  Isabella,)  the  princess  roj-«l,  Tl 
cjueea  undertook  another  campaign  in  the  succeeding  spring.  Thai  Jo 
her  father  sent  king  Edward  a  present  of  a  rich  helmet,  made  of  go 
and  set  with  precious  stones  ;  with  a  remonstrance  agaiiut  wasliog  L 
etreogth  in  Scotland,  where  there  was  no  plunder  to  be  got,  whan  tl 
same  expense  would  pmsecute  his  claims  on  France,  The  queen  ll 
winter  became  the  mother  of  a  second  princess,  named  Joaiiiu.  PI 
lippa  followed  her  lord  lo  a  third  northern  campnigii.  Her  second  H 
Wflliam  of  Hatfield,  was  born  in  a  village  in  Yorkshire,  in  the  niattr 
1338 :  this  infant  lived  but  a  few  weeks* 

In  the  absence  of  Edward,  the  Scotch  war  was  proseciited  by  hia  nii 
brother,  John  earl  of  Cornwall,  with  great  cruelty ;  this  young  prin 
died  at  Perth,  October  the  6th,  of  a  wound  which  he  got  in  his  Irrocu 
attack  on  Lesmahago.* 

While  Philtppa  resided  in  the  norili  of  England,  a  circmnataiiea  t 
curred  which  is  an  amusing  instance  of  monastic  etiquette.  Kln^  I 
ward  had  returned  from  Scotland,  and  advanced  as  far  as  Durham,  wIh 
he  eatablished  his  lodging  in  St.  Cuthbert'a  Priory,  near  tlie  caslle.  T 
queen  travelled  from  York  to  meet  and  welcome  him.  She  snpatd 
the  prinry,  and,  thinking  it  was  no  offence,  retired  to  pass  the  nq|hl 

'Eilwaril  Baliol  invailecl  Scotland  wilb  iLe  Kngliih  nniijr,  linviii^  Ant*^ 
pivil  mesMgo  xo  young  king  Dnvid,  olTerins  "o  »e.^>iJe  lo  him  tlie  faiaitr  ••■I 
of  the  Briire,  it  bs  would  aurrender  lo  him  his  kingdom  and  hii  wife,  the  fm 
tbiei  of  king  Edward.  To  lids  modeit  request  the  Syitcb  oounril  (6a  dw  f 
lant  DouglBi  loal  hit  liA  at  Halidnn)  repIiM  by  unding  iheii  yimi^  Ugg  ■ 
qneen  Ibr  lafeif  to  France,  and  preparing  lo  delbuil  their  kfin^om  to  to  k 
gii>p,  Some  Bulhori  declara  that,  after  ihii  □onquaet.Edwnnl  kciilhivCWiM 
Bt  Rriiburgb,  with  his  queen,  but  liii  gavenunmt  bms  aia  daiwl  in  Junn; 
Wallinglbrd.— fitKb-tf. 

*T)iD  nnmps  or  Isabella  and  Eliiabetli  were  aynonTTnaus  in  tlie  mliUI*  ig 
to  Ihe  confli«ion  of  hiilory  and  gf  neoln^, 

'The  aoeounts  or  the  llineral  expentet  or  this  infhni,  who  wag  harinl  m  T* 
Catheilial,  are  ouiioui  feauirei  in  the  Waiilrabe  Book  of  his  Intber:— IS 
"  Paid  for  ilifiereiil  nuuMa  about  the  body  of  lord  Willimik,  arm  to  i)ir  Ura.  tl 
raaaed;  likewise  lot  the  purelinse  uf  thioe  hiinUteil  and  ninrit-  -'  :  '- 

v.-nx.  burnt  lounil  tlie  prince's  corpse  at  HsUleld,  Poiiiflct.  mi  ' 
WM  buried;  and  for  ilirao  cloths  of  gold  diapetwl.  lo  bo  [il  . 
corpse  and  tomb,  al»o  for  a  hooil  for  ihe  fnce,  and  for  webs,  : . 
Man*  M,  ninib  jrear  of  Edward  III.,  i-it.  lU,  IK'  "Pai'l  i 
Um  king,  for  llie  ■oid  of  hi*  *Dn  William,  divided  between  Haiii'M  md  \t 
mooae  at  Pom&M  aad  York,  and  fbt  widow*  watcliiog  riniad  the  nU  caqi 
and  burial  service,  m.  3i.  Sjd" 

■Boeihiiis  aSRnnt  that  Edward  III.,  enrnged  at  ihe  emelirof  hi«  bcnAar.l 
burning  Ihe  church  Of  Lcemnhago  with  a  (huuaand  Snntch  pm^plp  theraa,*r 
liii  nvord  atid  slew  the  younj;  prinne  before  Ihe  high  altnt  of  iba  cbnndiwNli 
Ko  liulo  is  known  of  this  priove,  that  tlte  anucilols  is  wortli  r«aD(dii« ;  A*^ 
'fie  tifiif  cC  rht  deserved  punishment  of  John  i»  iklte,  liir  fcjiif|yjj  TWIfti 


PniLIPPA    OF    nMNACLT.  181 

T  husband^s  apartment  Scarcely  liad  she  undressed  when  the  affrighted 
Dnks  came  to  tlie  door,  and  pathetically  remonstrated  against  the  in- 
ngement  of  the  rules  of  their  order,  intimating  ^  that  their  holy  patron 
Cutlibert,  who  during  his  life  very  sedulously  eschewed  the  company 
the  fair  sex,  would  l^  direfuUy  offended  if  one  of  them  slept  beneath 
B  roof  of  his  convent,  however  high  her  rank  might  be.''  The  pious 
lilippa,  distressed  at  the  idea  of  unwittingly  oflending  St.  Catlibert, 
mediately  rose  from  the  bed  in  haste,  fed  in  her  night-dress  to  the 
itle,  which  was  fortunately  close  by,  and  passed  tlie  night  there  by 
nelfJ 

The  gout  and  other  maladies  put  an  end  to  the  existence  of  count 
illiam  of  Hainan!  t,  soon  after  he  had  formed  a  league  against  France 
ih  King  Edward  ;  and  with  the  wealthy  father  of  his  queen,  Edward 
It  the  liberal  supplies,  with  which  he  carried  on  his  warfare.  The 
Iglish  people  chose  always  to  be  at  war;  but  they  expected  their 
narchs  to  find  the  cost  out  of  their  private  revenues  and  feudal  dues, 
lich  were  certainly  not  sufficient  for  the  purpose.  Edward  was  re- 
ced  to  extreme  poverty  even  in  the  commencement  of  his  long  war, 
1  obliged  to  pawn  his  queen's  crown  at  Cologne  for  2500/.,  in  the 
ur  1330.  Soon  after  the  English  people  submitted,  not  to  a  tax  on 
lol,  but  a  tax  of  wool,  and  subscribed  30,000  packs  of  that  commo- 
y,*  which,  being  sent  down  the  Rhine  to  Cologne,  redeemed  Philippa's 
It  crown  from  thraldom.  During  the  whole  of  this  reign  the  crown 
vels  were  seldom  out  of  pawn,  notwithstanding  the  wealth  that  the 
int  manufacture  of  cloth  was  already  drawing  to  the  coasts  of  Eng- 
id.  The  prosperity  that  the  queen's  colony  of  Flemish  artists  had 
Night  to  Norwich  had  been  felt  so  early  as  1330,  when  Philippa  paid 
It  city  a  visit,  during  her  husband's  progress  to  Castle  Rising.  She 
m  received  by  the  grateful  citizens  with  all  the  honours  due  to  a  public 
lefrctrew. 

As  vicar  of  the  empire,  and  head  of  the  confederated  league  of  Ger- 
loy,  Edward  III.  had  his  head-quarters,  during  several  of  the  Flemish 
npftigns,  at  Antwerp  and  Ghent,  where  his  queen  kept  her  court.  At 
ftwerp  the  third  son  of  Philippa  and  Edward  Ilf.  was  bom,  November 
th,  1338.  This  prince  was  a  true  Fleming,  being  bom  in  Flanders 
ft  Flemish  mother.  In  due  time  prince  Lionel  grew  to  be  nearly 
ren  feet  in  height,  and,  being  athletic  in  proportion,  was  a  champioi 
whom  any  country  might  be  proud. 

The  queen  returned,  with  this  infant  Hercules,  to  England  in  the 
minii  of  1339,  and  in  the  ensuing  year  king  Edward  paid  a  long  visit 
his  unhappy  mother  in  Norfolk,  while  queen  Philippa  went  to  Noi 
eh  lo  visit  her  woollen  manufactories.  She  found  a  vast  number  of 
>rwich  people,  who,  having  been  apprentices  of  Kempe  and  his  fol« 
rera,  were  establishing  themselves  in  the  profitable  trades  of  weaving 
]  dyeing.  She  was  received  with  great  joy,  and  favoured  the  citizens 

History  of  the  Cathedral  of  Durham.  The  priory  is  at  present  the  residenoa 
the  dean.  'Fcederm.    Guthrie.    Carte.    Bloomfield'»  KomSfiitau 

YOL.  II. — 16 

M 


I 


IBS  nilLIPFA    OP    IIAIAAtLT. 

wilh  her  presence  Troni  February  lo  EaKier.'     Al  ihe  reeiivtlie*  of 
■eaeoii  her  royal  lord  held  a  giand  lournameiii  si  Norwich,  when  Ik 
lilted  in  person. 

In  Ihe  spring  of  the  same  year,  PhilippB  again  aniled  for  tbe  uppu 
roast,  BD(I  established  her  coun  ai  Ghent.  Kine  Edwaril,  ia  the  mm^ 
time,  cruised  between  Engiland  and  Holland,  where  he  had  ■  flw  it 
upwards  of  300  ships.  Phihppa  gave  birth  U>  her  Toiiinh  aon  ml  GUol, 
OQ  .Midsummer-day  1340,  a  the  very  lime  ihai  her  warlike  Irml  an 
Hghting  his  great  DSval  battle  off  Blakenburg.  Next  day,  the  kutf  UmU 
at  Sluys,  impBiient  to  embruee  his  queen  and  her  inlant,  ftrid  bniti  Plii- 
lippB  tidings  of  the  greatest  dbvbI  victory  ilie  English  aX  that  tune  hul 
ever  gained  over  Frauce.  Philippa'i  boy  was  John  of  Gnunt,  sftervrwili 
so  renowned  as  duke  of  LAncasier. 

The  interference  or  the  mother  of  Philippa  about  this  lime  ocoiioa- 
ed  a  lemponry  cessation  of  hofltiliiies  between  France  and  FjtgUnJ.' 
This  princess,  jusl  as  the  belligerents  were  about  U>  eingage  Ixfen 
Toumay,  weiii  lo  her  son-in-law,  and  then  lo  her  brother,  king  Pliilqi, 
and,  kneeling  before  them,  ioiplured  them  to  make  peace  and  slop  ibt 
eiTusion  of  Christian  bloud.* 

The  pacilicalion  elTecied  by  ihe  motlier  of  queen  Philippk  fof  a«i 
put  a  stop  lo  this  kindred  warfare.  It  was  indeed  lime,  for  both  Iht 
mighty  Edward  and  his  liiithful  queen  were  literally  ia  a  slate  o(  U 
ruptcy.  She  had  given  up  her  cruwn,  and  all  the  jewels  shv  poaM 
which  her  royal  lord  liad  pawned  to  the  Flemish  iDerchanUj  bat 
wants  were  slill  so  great,  that  to  raise  a  further  aum  he  Itkewiae  ptv 

'  Hatiling.     BJuomfleld. 

'Froiasart.  Jeanae  of  Talois  Lad  retired  inlo  ■  eonveni  aftn  ilie  ileadiof  )■ 
huibnnd,  Iha  count  of  Uainaull.  Thii  ntreat  wat  fired  bj  her  Ijmfcii  U4 
Cbilip  B  liDop*  in  tbia  war. 

'TUe  relatioDsliip  belweeo  Eilword's  queen  and  tbs  competitot  loi  ib*  A 
of  Ftance  was  nem  ;  »be  was  boih  hia  Diecc  and  name-child,  noil  Uip  lamii 
■ml  loTe  wUinh  Ler  molhei  bore  10  king  Philip  wore  excessJTe.      The  no 
ihni  pronipIii>d  thv  molbn  of  Pbiliiipa  to  interfere  in  Ilii*  extrwudinarr  ma 
beiwesn  armiM  ready  to  engage  aie  perfeclij-  ooRuitent  wilti  tba  epiM  <d  A* 
middle  ages.     Hor  hinstnan.  king  Roger  of  Sicily,  a  royal  BAtn>lo|[*r,  bad  cb4IW 
nativiliai  of  Philip  and  Edward,  autl  declared  thai  be  Ibreuw  the  ilueo«fB0 
of  die  king  of  Prance  if  eror  he  fouglit  agunil  hU  rival.      T|mj  Igncn  of  kM| 
Roger,  Hlaiming  tlie  li^terly  feati  of  die  counieeB  Jeanne,  indneed  her  MMfr 
tencB.    At  Toumay,  Edward  was  endeavouring  (o  provoke  Philtp  into  a  pen 
ccmbal.    TliU  excellent  inctliod  ofdelormininga  niccaisian-irat,  Philip  didl 
becBute  the  cartel  was  nol  direoteJ  to  ihe  king  of  France.    Upod  tIiii.ilLii  ■M*' 
English  camp  cried  out  on  the  cawardice  of  Pliilip,  and  a  poet  behiDfiag  H  It 
ward,  pOMesiing  more  loyalijr  than  I^iin.  wtmb  the  following  oouplef— 
Si  valeas,  venias,  ValoUl  depetle  limoram 
Non  lateaij  pBlE&9;  moveaa.     Oslende  vjgOTem— 
Which  may  be  rendered, 

Valoit,  be  VBliantI  vile  fear  pan't  avail  ifaee: 
Hide  nol,  avoid  rloi,  lei  tiet  vigout  fiitt  there. 

Edward,  who  bad  himself  ienl  a  ihymiiig  decUialion  of  w«  u  Ailip,  •••■ 

(hew  were  valiant  veisev"  and  cfuued  ibcoi  to  b*  liutMiod  iitsa  WIVPiMt  j 


■bol 


o  PhiUp'i 


PniLIPPA    OF    IIAIIfAULT.  183 

the  person  of  his  Taliant  kinsman  the  earl  of  Derby,'  who  actually  gave 
himself  up  to  personal  restraint,  while  Edward  stole  away  with  his 
queen,  and  the  child  she  nourished,  to  Zealand.  Here  he  embariLed  with 
Philippa  and  the  infimt  John  of  Gaunt,  attended  by  a  few  senrants.  The 
ship  was  small,  the  weather  stormy,  and  the  royal  passeng^ers  were  in 
frequent  danger  of  losing  their  lives :  however,  at  midnight,  December  2, 
1840,  they  landed  safely  on  Tower  wharf.  Here  the  king  found  that 
three  nurses,  and  the  rest  of  the  ro3ral  children,  constituted  the  sole 
garrison  of  his  regal  fortress  of  the  Tower;  the  careless  constable, 
Nicholas  de  la  Beche,  had  decamped  that  evening  to  visit  a  lady-love  in 
the  city,  and  his  warders  and  soldiers,  following  so  good  an  example, 
had  actually  left  the  Tower  to  take  care  of  itself.*  The  great  Edward, 
who  was  not  in  the  mildest  of  tempers,  owing  to  the  untoward  state  of 
his  finances,  took  possession  of  the  fortress  of  his  capital  in  a  towering 
vage.  As  his  return  was  wholly  unexpected,  the  consternation  of  con- 
stable de  la  Beche  may  be  supposed,  when  he  had  concluded  his  city 
▼int.  It  was  well  for  the  careless  castellan,  that  the  gentle  Philippa  was 
hj  the  side  of  her  incensed  lord,  at  that  juncture. 

About  this  time,  the  heart  of  the  mighty  Edward  swerved  for  a  while 
from  its  fidelity  to  Philippa ;  and  had  not  the  royal  hero  been  enamoured 
of  a  lady  of  exemplary  virtue,  the  peace  of  the  queen  might  have  been 
for  erer  destroyed.  Sir  William  Montacute  had  been  remrded  for  the 
good  service  he  did  the  king,  in  the  beginning  of  his  reign,  by  the  title 
of  the  earl  of  Salisbury.  He  had  married  the  fair  Catherine  de  Grason,' 
and  reoeived  the  castellanship  of  Wark  Castle,  whither  he  had  taken  his 
countess,  who  lived  in  retirement  away  from  the  court  In  the  mean- 
time, Salisbury  had  been  captured  in  the  French  war.  His  castle  in  the 
north,  which  was  defended  by  his  countess  and  his  nephew,  was  be- 
sieged in  the  second  Scottish  war,  by  king  David.  When  in  great  danger, 
young  Montacute,  by  a  bold  personal  adventure,  carried  the  news  of  the 
distress  of  the  countess  to  king  Edward,  who  was  encamped  near  Ber- 

'  Carte.  Guthrie.  Oilef'a  FoMiera.  Ho  remained  in  prison,  being  detained 
by  Matthew  Concanon  and  partners,  mcrcliants  of  the  firm  of  the  Leopard.  Ed- 
ward obtained  tuppliet  of  bis  parliament  next  year,  by  declaring  "  that,  if  ha 
was  not  enabled  to  redeem  his  honour  and  his  cousin,  the  earl  of  Derby,  he 
would  go  to  Flanders,  and  surrender  his  royal  person  to  his  crt^ditors."  In 
answer  to  this  appeal,  the  commons  granted  the  fleece  of  the  ninth  sheep  and 
the  ninth  lamb  throughout  England ;  coin  seemed  to  be  as  scarce  with  tlie  sub- 
jects as  with  their  royal  matter  and  mistress. 

'  Proisssrt  and  several  chroniclers. 

*  In  MiUes*  Catalogue  of  Honour,  the  parentage  of  the  countess  of  Salisbury  is 
clearly  traced.  She  was  the  daughter  of  William  de  Orafton,  a  Burgnndian 
knight  of  imperial  lineage,  a  favourite  of  Edmund  earl  of  Lancaster,  who  pre- 
"Vasled  on  Sibyl,  heiress  of  Lord  Tregose  of  Wiltshire,  to  marry  his  friend.  Gra«on 
possessed  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  handsome  person,  and  a  pedigree  derivecc 
fiom  the  emperors  of  Constantinople.  Catherine  tlie  Fair  was  the  only  child  of 
this  oouple,  and  was  endowed  riohly  with  her  mother's  wealth  and  her  father's 
bcautj.  She  bestowed  both  on  the  brave  earl  of  Salisbury.  Dugdale  confirms 
this  account,  by  quoting  charters,  in  which  he  calls  the  countess  Catherine  de 
Graadison ;  of  this  name,  Grason  is  an  evident  abbreviation. 


I 


18il  raiLirPA   or   haikault- 

wiri(.  At  the  ■ppnMch  of  Cdwwdt  llie  kin;  of  Scot*  naeA  the  ut^ 
of  Wwk.  The  royal  hen'*  iniMvieir  trith  CBlbertus  ilw  F«u  (ollivn, 
in  thr  wonk  of  Pmuwan  :— 

"  The  tnomeni  ihe  cdubum  tmrd  oT  the  kio^'*  ■ppmaeh,  she  onknd 
ill  the  faiH  lo  be  ihruwn  opni,  «ii<l  nprtt  to  men  him  mwl  licUj^ 
dfMBM);  iniooiuch,  ihsi  no  one  could  look  at  licr  but  with  mooitrwii 
nifmiratioa  at  her  noble  depnriinetn,  tpait  beamy,  and  afUnlity  of  b^ 
Tiour.  When  ihe  came  near  kmg  EdwarxL  afae  made  lier  pb^iwllOi  U 
the  frounil,  and  i;ave  liim  LliankJ  Tor  coming  lo  her  aasistajieef  mhI  thai 
conducUMl  him  iiitu  the  caade,  lo  ealenain  aiid  honour  hiia,  at  ib*  m 
rery  caj»ble  of  doiu^. 

'■  Every  one  wai  dclighled  with  her;  but  ihe  king  coold  ncM  ttkehii 
eyee  off  fmm  her,  *o  that  •  ipark  nf  fine  love  struck  apoo  his  hatfi 
which  la*ted  a  long  time  \  for  he  did  nul  believe,  that  the  whole  w«U 
produrrd  any  other  lady,  so  worthy  of  being  beloved.  Thue  they  uUiiii 
the  castle,  hand  ia  hand.  The  counteea  led  hiin  fim  to  the  hall,iri 
then  to  the  best  chamber,  which  was  very  richly  rumiahed,  u  bdaa|n4 
lo  au  fine  a  lady.  King  Edward  kept  his  eyea  so  filed  upon  the  eonflWit 
that  the  gentle  ilanie  wae  ituite  abashed.  Afler  he  hnd  eafficiemly  rt- 
Brained  hie  aparifflenl,  he  retired  to  ■  window,  and,  leaning  on  it,  y 
intu  n  profnand  raverie. 

**Tlic  countess  left  him  lo  onler  dinner  to  be  maile  ready,  ami  lb 
tables  sut,  and  the  hall  onuimenied  and  set  out;  likewiae  lo  wdeoH 
llie  knights  and  lords  who  accompanied  the  king.  When  ahe  bad  p<v 
all  the  orders  lo  her  servants  she  lliaught  needlul,  she  returned  wdkt 
cheerful  countenance  to  king  Edward,  and  said — 

" '  Dear  air,  what  are  you  musing  on  }  Such  medilaliojj  k  not  ptff 
for  you,  saving  your  grace.  You  ought  rather  to  be  in  hi^  ffUHt 
having  freed  England  from  her  enemy  witiiout  loaa  of  blood.' 

■'The  kingn-plied— 

" '  Oh,  dear  lady,  you  must  know  that,  since  I  hare  been  in  tfaU  eMilt- 
some  thoughts  have  oppressed  my  mind  that  1  was  not  before  awaiaof; 
so  that  ii  behoves  me  to  relleci.  Being  uncertain  what  may  be  the  anA 
[  cannot  withdraw  my  aiienlion.' 

■' '  Pear  sir,'  answered  (he  lady, '  you  ought  to  be  of  good  cbeer,  ai 
feast  with  your  friends,  lo  give  them  more  pleasure,  and  leave  off  poada* 
ing ;  for  God  has  been  verj-  bountiful  to  you  in  your  undertidbogi,  W 
that  you  are  the  most  feared  and  renowned  prince  in  Chriatendooi.  If 
(he  king  of  Scotland  have  vexed  you  by  the  mischiefs  he  hath  done  is 
your  kingdom,  you  will  speedily  be  able  lo  make  reprisal  in  his  deoih 
nions  Therefore,  come,  if  ii  please  you,  into  the  hall  to  your  kaJftMi  ' 
for  dinnet  will  soon  be  served.' 

"  ■  Oh,  Bweel  lady,'  said  king  Edward, '  there  be  other  ihiogi  whltft 
loueh  my  heart,  and  lie  heavy  there,  ihan  wlui  you  talk  of.    fiUii* 


■      >l.at 
^K     whir 


!;(>od  tmlh,  your  beauteous  mien,  and  (he  perfeetions  of  your  face  ud 
Hihaviour,  have  wholly  overcome  me;  and  so  deeply  impress  my  h«fl| 


my  happiness  wholly  depends  on  meeting  a  nstum  to  my  Huth 
which  no  denial  ftota  you  can  ever  exlinguish,' 
" '  Oil.  my  drcttd  lotd,^  le^Ue^  \!i;te  twiw^u^^  do  uoi  amuae  youndLJ 


hy  Isughing  al  me  n-ith  trying  to  tempt  me,  for  1  cannot  believe  you  are 
in  rarnesi  as  [u  what  ynu  have  Just  said.  Is  il  likely  that  so  noble  end 
gullant  a  prince  as  you  are  would  ever  think  of  diBhoiiouriiig  either  me 
or  luy  husband,  a  valiant  knight,  who  has  served  you  so  faithfully,  and 
who  now  lies  in  a  doleful  prIsoQ  on  your  account?  Certainly,  sir,  ihii 
wontd  net  redound  to  your  glory;  nor  would  you  be  the  better  for  it,  if 
you  rould  have  your  wayward  will.' 

*'Tbe  virtuous  lady  then  quitted  the  king,  who  was  astonished  at  lier 
words.  She  went  into  the  hull  to  hasten  dinner;  a^erwards  she  ap- 
proached the  kiiig'a  chamber,  aiiendeil  by  all  the  knights,  and  said  to  him, 

"  *  My  lord  king,  your  knights  aie  all  waiting  for  you,  to  wash  their 
hBn<l9 ;  for  they,  aa  well  as  yourself,  have  fasted  too  long.' 

"  King  Edward  lefl  his  apartment,  and  came  to  the  hall,  where,  after 
he  lioil  washed  his  hands,  he  seated  himself  with  his  knights  at  the  din- 
ner, «■  did  the  lady  also ;  but  the  king  ate  very  little,  and  was  the  whole 
time  peiisive,  casting  his  eyes,  whenever  he  had  the  opportunity,  on  the 
counie«8.  Such  behaviour  surprised  his  friends ;  for  they  were  not 
■ccostomed  to  it,  never  having  seen  the  like  before  in  their  king.  They 
EapiKised  it  was  his  chagrin,  at  the  departure  of  the  Scots  without  a 
bkttle.  The  king  remained  at  the  casile  the  whole  day,  wittiout  knowing 
wItBt  (o  do  with  himself.  Thus  did  he  pass  tlial  day  and  a  sleepless 
ni^ht,  drbnting  the  iDBtter  with  his  otvn  heart  At  iJaybreak  he  rose, 
dnw  out  his  whole  army,  raised  his  camp,  and  made  ready  to  follow 
llie  Scots.     Upon  taking  leave  of  the  countess,  he  said, 

**'My  dear  lady,  God  preserve  you  safe  till  t  retuin,  and  1  pray  that 
rou  will  think  well  of  what  1  have  said,  and  have  the  goodness  to  give 
me  ■  diflereni  answer.' 

"'My  gracious  liege,'  replied  the  countess, '  God  of  his  infinite  good* 
nrss  preserve  you,  and  drive  from  your  noble  heart  such  villanous 
ihon^lits;  for  1  am,  and  ever  shall  be,  ready  lo  serve  you,  but  only  in 
wiial  is  consistent  with  my  honour  and  with  yours.' 

"Tbe  king  leA  her,  quite  astonished  at  her  answers." 

The  love  of  king  Edward  wandered  from  queen  Philippa,  bni  for  a 
rfiort  time ;  yet  it  was  awing  to  the  high  principles  of  Catherine  the 
r«r  that  be  never  swerved  into  the  commission  of  evil.' 

Qdmui  Philippa,  aiiired  in  the  august  robes  of  the  new  order  of  the 
Gaiter.'  and  attended  by  the  ladies  whom  the  plUntiy  of  king  Edward 

'Though  he  ippean  atill  lo  havs  vlierisbed  a  cliiTBlric  and  lieraia  BilBchment 
b>  Oa  countru,  be  eoon  iliowcd  that  he  had  reiigned  whai  ilis  very  propally 
mM  hint  wets  "  villanoiu  thougku."  In  proof  of  iliia  Tact,  wc  find  bim,  ditectljr, 
bbUbc  a  two  j«an'  lni«e  with  the  king  of  Scotland,  one  o[  ihe  canditionB  of 
«4ifaili  WM,  -ibal  king  I>aTid  ■hould  uaderiske  a  nPgoiiBikin  wiin  bd  Bllf.  ih« 
Uof  of  Fnniic,  10  exjcbiui«D  tba  earl  of  Many,  &  prisoner  of  king  Edwoid,  lot 
(b*  nwl  of  Satiibuir,"  tliea  in  caplilily  in  the  diiunal  lower*  of  tbe  Ctiatelel.-> 
fWitMTf,  ml.  I  p.  S07. 

'Tbe  MOry  th«t  tbo  origin  of  thi»  order,  the  Order  of  the  Osner,  took  iti  ti^a 
ttm  an  acridsni  tliBt  liii|>prni!d   lo  ibe  conntpu  of  Saliibury'i  dres«,   wben 
Icing  Edu-ard  111^  mutt  be  unliue,  since  we  have  K«n  thai  Ih6 
Blue  Gntiet  weiB  oonfederaled  by  Cckut  ile  Lion  long  before 
It  hem;  therefore  tiM  Oann  was  a  part  of  the  ordal  iJltU \dt&>i>«n>  j 


I 


I 


PUI  LIFF  A 


U  A  I K  A  V  fc  T. 


uiociated  with  his  knighis,'  aasisieii  her  royal  lord  ki  boUliig  tba  fal 
chapter  ai  Wiinlaor,  on  Si.  Geor^^s  day,  1344. 

Philippt  kept  the  binhOay  of  her  mighty  lord  with  gra«feniTit]r,« 
Woodttock,  in  the  year  1345.*  Her«,  in  that  sylrsn  f«]m!«,  wltovidtt 
had  spent  the  first  years  of  her  happy  wedluckf  did  sho  Snd  tunacil(ia 
middle  lire,  surrounded  by  a  iriin  of  beauiirul  cfatldrea,  at  the  hod  </ 
whom  was  Edward,  prince  o{  Wales,  then  on  the  ere  at  wiamng  Wt 
vast  meed  of  reuoiTii.  Philippa's  protege,  Cliaucer,  has  in  ^MM  4»- 
gaiil  lines  described  one  lovely  feature  of  iha  bvoiDtte  iMmi  4f  Ui 
loyal  iniatresB.     He  speuks  of  a  maple, 


Ai  Wocliii 


I  of  iJie  queaa 


deiiwd  amaj  yetttt  prnvimiMly  lo  the  era  of  king  Edwvnl.  But  lluu  ih*  «e«i^M 
of  Saliibuijr  wai  coniiileiad  the  heriMne  of  the  tmviif  nviveil  onler,  w*  bn* 
ihe  eipreas  wonli  of  Froiiinrt,  as  fotlouri : — "  Vou  hA*e  all  lieani  hair  [aal^ 
kiely  king  Edward  Waa  nniTlcn  with  Iha  cbatni*  tit  llial  ooUe  tojjr,  C*4hwt 
Municsa  of  Salisburj'.  Out  of  afTeciion  u>  the  nld  Inily.  and  liU  ilniirn  ■■■ 
r.er,  b«  proclainied  a  eissl  (ran  in  Aufruit,  IHa.  Ha  eotmntutAri  all  UiHt 
lonttuid  knighia  sbould  be  tliprp  wiihout  Toil,  kOd  l»  BXi>rBMl)ranl«c»4  teMll 
-f  Sklubuiy  lo  biiiig  lbs  luly  hi)  wifr,  willi  14  maa)'  jcnOf  l*dlda  a*  «lvtMU 
Collect  ID  atte-nd  ber.  Ttie  enrl  Tpty  chceirully  coii>Cli«d  wttta  iJi*  kMa^LfafM 
r«rA«lAM«U<»RiiI;«idhURDodlBdTdBiiadmBr.aa*.  fiw'Mfln&K    ■ 


raiLippA 


PHUIPPA   OF  HAINAULT, 

QUEEN   OF  EDWARD  111. 


CHAPTER   II. 

n  PbiliplM  left  regent  or  England  — Battle  of  Cretsy  —  Qua 

rf  Calais—Scalch  inTwion — Uueea  defeadi  England — Queen'a  eibons- 


-Her 


ictorj'  of  Net 


's  Crosa  —  King  Dsviil  ei 


a  to  London  - 

i<  doDmnl  m  death  by  Edward — Philippn's  iniercesfion — Binh  of  princesi 

pre!  —  GilwBrd  &nd  Philippa  return  to  England  —  BeliDihment  at  the 

■  Moond  daughter  —  Death  of  the  princem  —  King  Edward's  iHtters  — 

'•  fiTungei  cbildreo — Philippa '9  iDUmaraenl  at  Norwich — Quecn'Bobjea* 

^e  marriage  of  the  Black  Prince  —  Qneen  reeeivei  roynl  prinmeri— 

o  with  thj  Guetclin  —  Queen  goea  to  France  —  Marriage  of  the  Blaeh 

eeti'a  reception  of  kinf[  Jolin  at  Eltham — Ailiancea  orrojrsi  feimilf 

9  Atal  illness  —  Dealh-bcd  —  Tomb  —  Epitaph  —  Benefhciiotis — 

VColhige,  Oxford —-Pennions  to  bet  Women —Ali<»  Perten  —  Queea'i 

•ed  oonfeasion — Vinuea  of  queen  Philippa. 

■  fiiwi  years  of  her  marriage  queen  Philipi»  had  been  ihe  coo- 
nit  Aitendani  on  her  husband  in  his  campaigns;  the  annats  of  the  year 
\M  <li«play  her  characler  in  a  more  brilliant  light,  a«  the  eagaciout 
ruler  of  his  kingdom  and  ihc  Tictorioua  leader  of  hia  army. 

After  the  order  or  the  Garter  hail  been  fully  eslabtished,  king  Edward 
mnindetl  liis  valiant  knights  snil  noblea,  that,  with  him,  they  made  ■ 
TOW  to  Bsiisi  diairessed  ladies;  he  then  apecilied  that  the  cotinteaa  de 
Mnnilbrt  parucularly  required  ihe  aJd  of  his  chiTalry,  for  her  lord  wai 
helJ  11)  captivity  by  Philip  de  Valoia,  in  ilie  tower*  of  the  Louvre,  whil* 
the  founteM  was  endeavoorlng  to  uphold  the  cause  of  her  iurani  aon, 
■|[Bin«t  the  whole  power  of  Fmnce.  He  signified  bis  triteiition  of  givinf 
-tua  persoual  support  to  the  heroic  oounLees,  and  of  IcBTiiig  queen  Pht^ 
^JMi  OS  regent  of  England  dtiring  hia  absence. 

^^^p  St  John  the  Baptist's  day,  the  king  took  leate  of  queen  Philippa^ 

^^^■ioting  the  earl  of  Kent  as  her  assistant  in  the  government  of  Eng- 

^^H.    The  nam*  of  her  young  son,  Lionel,'  a  child  of  eight  years  old, 

^fiSa  KMoointed  with  bis  mother  in  the  regency.     Philippa  bade  fareweU 

to  the  darling  of  her  heart,  her  ion  Edward,  then  in  his  sixteenth  year. 

This  voting  hero  accompanied  his  royal  sire,  in  order  to  win  his  spurs 

no  iJie  soil  of  Franee.    i'he  exploits  of  the  heroic  boy  sre  well  known ; 

btii  it  is  not  quite  so  well  known  that  he  was  opposed,  at  llie  Geld  of 

Crrwy,  to  his  mother's  nearest  connexions — to  her  uncle,  Philip  of  V«- 


I 


fin 


ILIPFA    OF    II  A 


r  HaiiiaulL,  that  Tavouriie  rplmifc  « 
;eii  as  if  he  were  her  laiher.     In 


I 


I 


epini  of  a  mercenary  soldier,  air  John  had  left  Ihe  service  of  hia  awcei 
bualmnd,  in  whose  employmenl  he  had  spent  the  best  part  of  bU  liit. 
merely  because  the  king  of  France  gave  him  a  higher  salftry. 

The  first  English  military  despatch  ever  written  was  addms«<l  lo 
queen  Philippa  and  her  council,  by  Michael  Nonhborougli,  king  Ed- 
ward's warlike  chaplain  :  it  contains  a  most  original  and  gnphio  detail 
of  the  battle  of  Cressy.  It  is  dated,  at  the  siege,  before  ilie  town  »( 
Calais;  for  the  battle  of  Cressy  was  but  an  interlude  of  thai  ftmnua 

It  was  now  Philippa'B  turn  to  do  batile-royal,  with  a  king.  As  a  di- 
version iu  favour  of  France.  David  of  Scotland  advanced  into  En^Uod, 
&  foiinigbl  after  the  battle  of  Cressy,  and  bunted  the  suburbs  of  York 
At  this  juncture  Philippa  herself  hastened  to  ihe  relief  of  her  nortbtn 
subjects.  Froissart  has  detailed  willi  great  spirit  (he  brilliant  roodocldf 
ihe  queen  at  this  crisis  : — 

''The  queen  of  England,  who  was  very  anxious  lo  defend  heikiac- 
doni,  in  order  to  show  she  was  in  earnest  about  il,  came  faendf  M 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  She  took  up  her  tesidenco  there  to  mil  kt 
her  forces.  On  the  morrow  the  king  of  Scots,  with  full  forty  dMMh 
rand  men,  advanced  within  three  shorl  miles  of  the  town  o{  HentuHt; 
he  sent  to  inform  the  queen  tliat,  if  her  men  were  willing  to  eoiot  ibnh 
from  the  town,  he  would  wait  and  give  them  battle.  PhiTippft  kiia««i«l« 
'  that  she  accepted  his  olTer,  and  that  her  batons  would  risk  their  hw 
for  the  realm  aC  their  lord  the  king.' " 

The  queen's  army  drew  up  in  order  for  battle  at  Nerille's  CrMK 
Philippa  advanced  nmoiig  ihem  mounted  on  her  white  charger^  and (■■ 
treated  her  jneu  lo  do  iheir  duly  well,  in  defending  the  lionuur  o(  iWr 
lord  Ihe  king,  and  uiged  them,  "  for  the  love  of  God  to  ligtit  uunloltjr* 
They  promised  her  "  that  they  would  acquit  themselves  loj-ally  VO'Ab 
uiniost  of  their  power,  and  perhaps  better  than  if  the  king  hwd  bva 
there  in  person,"  The  queen  then  took  her  leave  of  them,  «nd  nn» 
mended  them  "  lo  the  protection  of  God  and  St.  George." 

There  is  no  vulgar  personal  bravado  of  the  tigbtiug  wdhihi,  ia  ihl 
character  of  Philippa.  Her  courage  was  wholly  moral  coDrege,andia 
feminine  feelings  of  mercy  and  lendemeas  led  her,  when  she  had  imt 
all  that  a  greal  queen  could  do,  by  encouraging  her  army,  to  w'ubdnm 
from  the  work  of  carnage,  and  pray  for  her  invaded  kiugdooi  wbil*  ih* 
battle  joined. 

The  English  archers  gained  the  battle,  which  was  fought  a«t  tha  loA 
of  loid  Neville.'     King  David  was  taken  prisoner,  on  liis  ' 
retreat,  but  not  without  making  the  most  gallonl  resistance. 

'  Tlie  Sniurday  before  MichaclmaE-ilay,  134 
There  it   rEnsan  lo   suppose  tlist,  wbere   Frc 
■liould  be  DurliMD,  eioce  the  English  nrmy 
PaiL   SI  Auckluid,  and   NeTille's  Crou   iuelf 
Durbam. 


PHILIPPA    OF    HAINAULT.  189 

*^  When  the  queen  of  England  (who  had  tarried  in  Newcastle  while 
ihe  battle  was  fought)  heard  that  her  army  had  won  the  victory,  she 
nounted,  on  h^  white  palfrey,  and  went  to  the  battle-field.  She  was 
nfonned  on  the  way  that  the  king  of  Scots  was  the  prisoner  of  a  squire 
nmed  John  Copeland,  who  had  rode  off  with  him,  no  one  knew 
thither.'  The  queen  ordered  him  to  be  sought  out,  and  told  ^  that  lie 
lad  done  what  was  not  agreeable  to  her,  in  carr3ring  off  her  prisoner 
rithoot  leave.'  All  the  rest  of  the  day  the  queen  and  her  army  remained 
m  the  battle-field  they  had  won,  and  then  returned  to  Newcastle  for  the 
light" 

Next  day  Philippa  wrote  with  her  own  hand  to  John  Copeland, 
xnnaianding  him  to  surrender  the  king  of  Scots  to  her.  John  answered 
D  •  manner  most  contumacious  to  the  female  majesty,  then  swaying  the 
oeptre  of  EIngland  with  so  much  ability  and  glory.  He  replied  to  Phi- 
ippa,  ^  that  he  would  not  give  up  his  royal  prisoner  to  woman  or  child,* 
at  <Hiiy  to  his  own  lord  king  Edward,  for  to  him  he  liad  sworn  alle- 
:iance,  and  not  to  any  woman.''  There  spoke  the  haughty  spirit  of 
emklity,  which  disdained  to  obey  a  female  regent,  although  then  en- 
anped  on  a  victorious  field. 

The  queen  was  greatly  troubled  at  the  obstinacy  of  this  northern 
quire,  and  scarcely  knew  how  to  depend  on  the  assurance  he  added, 
adding  her  knight  tell  the  queen,  ^  she  might  depend  on  his  taking  good 
are  of  king  David."  In  this  dilemma,  Philippa  wrote  letters  to  the  king 
ler  husband,  which  she  sent  off  directly  to  Calais.  In  these  letters  she 
nlbrmed  him  of  the  state  of  his  kingdom. 

The  king  then  ordered  John  Copeland  to  come  to  him  at  Calais,  who, 
mwkig  plaoNl  his  prisoner  in  a  strong  castle  in  Northumberland,  set  out, 
nd  landed  near  Calais.  When  the  king  of  England  saw  the  squire,  he 
ook  him  by  the  hand,  saying,  ^  Ha !  welcome,  my  squire,  who  by  thy 
rulour  hast  captured  mine  adversary,  the  king  of  Scots !" 

Jchn  Copeland  fell  on  one  knee,  and  replied,  ^  If  God,  out  of  his 
{leat  kindness,  has  given  me  the  king  of  Scotland,  and  permitted  me  to 
sofiquer  him  in  arms,  no  one  ought  to  be  jealous  of  it,  for  God  can,  if 
le  pieasea,  send  his  grace  to  a  poor  squire,  as  well  as  to  a  great  lord. 
iue,  do  not  take  it  amiss  if  I  did  not  surrender  king  David,  to  the 
jfden  of  my  lady  queen,  for  I  hold  my  lands  of  you  and  not  of  her^ 
md  my  oath  is  to  you,  and  not  to  her,  unless,  indeed,  through  choice." 

King  Edward  answered,  ^  John,  the  lo3ral  service  you  have  done  us, 
lad  our  esteem  for  your  valour,  is  so  g^reat,  that  it  may  well  serve  you 
la  an  excuse,  and  shame  fall  on  all  those  who  bear  you  any  ill-will. 
fon  will  now  return  home,  and  take  your  prisoner,  the  king  of  Scotland, 
ind  convey  him  to  my  wife ;  and,  by  way  of  remuneration,  I  assign 

'Knighton  lays  he  lodged  him  in  the  stroug  fortress  of  Bamborough.  King 
D^vid  wtLB  determined  to  provoke  Copeland  to  kill  him,  knowing  the  miseries  his 
si^ptiviijr  would  cause  his  country.  Hi*  resistance  was  terrific ;  he  dashed  hit 
paantlet  on  Copejaod's  mouth,  when  called  on  to  surrender,  and  knocked  out 
MV«iml  of  his  teeth.  Copeland  kept  his  temper,  and  succeeded  in  capturing  him 
ftiive. 

*  Philippa  waa  associated  with  the  young  prince,  Ldonal,  in  tke  i«i|m0f . 


>i  I  riiftgiliilli 

1  nbmh^MImm 


HV  FBILIFPA    of    OAIVAC  iiT. 

Iinih  u  iM«r  ^ur  hu«M  m  fua  nn  duoM  ibiii  i 

MKi/.  «  ynr,  fur  tdu  ami  jour  iMMn."'    Jobs 

tliinl  ilttf  al'ict  hu  ■rmml.MMl  ttuuMil  loCanhML    Wiwate««na( 

home  h«  uwrnlilnl  lii.  rnetHb  mm!  —fahbwMm.  and,  n  iin^Mj  «lk 

tlieiD,  look  UiB  kiii^  ul'  ScoU  aad  «MiMd  Ua  U  York,  litw*  ttftf 

■cutnl  )>iio,  iu  iliM  lume  o(  lung  Erfwwd,  to  qw  PiuU|if>,  lAd  Hdl 

•veil  HcuoM  IImi  (lie  wm  mii<l<^ 

Ant]  (rni  maKnauiniiijr  thiipfa  4ia^7*d  ia  b 
htppy  rMult.    How  rnanv  wotMR  «i    "  ' 
tuiml  lo  John  0<>|ifIiuiiI,  (otAtuU 
10  K  (IriR^Uxl  Mri-ptre.' 

fliiliiiim  ludgeil  Ditviil  tn  tba  Timr  of  LoMloa;  ha  «v  eariMUl 
by  her  utilm,  iu  gniti  ptnoiJfiB,  Uunqgii  iba  twwttis  neoNd  a* 
toll  ItUck  war-bontp,  iliai  etw;  ■■•  Ruxlrt  rMMgnuw  lii«  ^iwiii.  U  am 
of  c*a>p«.  Noil  diy  aho  wJM  fat  C«l»i»,Mri  JaoJed  ihwfc  fcy»ti#ll 
AUSaiitu.'  Tiietmral  (if  Plulip)HOcta«nwda>tiMrf^«lMbaaii«i 
bmirging  c«mp.  lict  royal  itml  MA  a  gnod  eran  in  wtieone  htt  ti^ 
lorioui  qiuniii,  anJ  mxln  a  nundieait  IStt  for  bn  Udin.  niill||i 
brnuj^il  Willi  her  Uiu  (lower  prthe  female  ftnbilny  of  Ei^kikl,a^ 
Uilies  ImiiiK  ansinus  Ui  aeeoinpwiy  W  to  Gakio,  in  oriw  to  aM  btot 
huabaiithi,  aittl  bruilit^re,  all  Baiiai|«d  in  lUia  faiaoaa  mm. 

While  Hiinn  Philittpu  was  m«mM  «H>ii  Iw  wnl  luri. 


M«mnURie,  the  breve  defenilerB  of  CbUU  were  bo  much  reduced  bjr 
hmine  IM  Ui  be  (oicei  to  capitulate.  At  fint  Edward  resolved  to  pDt 
tliun  nil  to  the  sword.  By  the  pcrsuiuioiis  of  sir  Walter  Maun;,  bf 
tomewhat  relaxed  from  his  bloody  intcDtioiiB.  "  He  bade  sir  Walter,'* 
wya  Fiuiesart,  "  retam  lo  Calais  with  the  following  lemu  >— '  Tell  ihs 
^frrnor  of  Calais  that  the  garrison  and  iiihabiiania  shall  be  psrdunedi 
excepting  six  of  th«  principal  citizens,  who  must  surrender  iliemBelvef 
to  duiti,  with  iope«  round  their  necks,  bareheaded,  and  barefooiod, 
bringiag  the  krys  of  the  town  and  caalle  in  their  liands.'  Sir  Waller 
TCUirapd  lu  the  brave  governor  of  Calais,  John  de  Vienue,  who  wa$ 
•rniUiig  for  him  on  lh«  luttlemeuU,  &nd  told  him  all  he  had  been  able  l» 
litn  fruui  the  king,  The  lord  of  Vienne  went  lo  the  market-plare,  and 
Mused  the  bell  lo  be  rung,  upon  which  all  the  inhabiianis  assembled  in 
tfac  tona-4iall.  lie  then  related  to  ihem  what  he  had  said,  and  ihe  aar 
■  wem  he  had  received,  and  Ihal  he  could  not  obtain  beller  condition^ 
Thfn  they  broke  inio  lamentations  of  grief  and  despair,  so  thai  ths 
luinlesi  heart  would  have  had  compaEBioci  on  ilieni ;  and  their  valiant 
guTcraor,  lord  de  Vienne,  wept  bitterly.  Aller  a  short  pause,  llic  moat 
weelllty  citizen  of  Calais,  by  name  Eustace  8l.  Pierre,  rose  up  and  saidi 
'G«nileiueD,  both  high  and  low,  it  would  be  pity  lo  sutler  so  many  of 
our  cotiutrymen  lo  die  through  famine;  It  would  be  highly  roeritorioui 
id  ih«  eyes  of  our  Saviour  if  sueh  misery  could  be  prevented.  If  I  die 
lo  **rve  ray  dear  townsmen,  I  irusi  I  shall  find  grace  before  the  tribunal 
of  God.     i  name  myself  Arst  of  the  six.' 

'^  WItcn  Eustace  had  done  speaking,  his  fellow-citizens  all  rose  up 
and  alnosl  adored  liim,  casting  ihomjN'lves  on  their  knees,  with  tears 
and  groans.  Then  another  ciiixon  rose  up,  and  said  he  would  be  the 
•eoand  u>  Euatace ;  his  name  was  John  Daire  :  after  him,  James  Wisant, 
wtio  WM  very  rich  in  money  and  latidn,  and  kinsman  to  Eustace  and 
John ;  his  example  was  followed  by  Peler  WisanI,  his  brother ;  two 
oihrr>>'  then  offered  themselves,  whicli  completed  U)e  number  demanded 
by  kipg  Edward.  The  governor  mounted  a  small  horse,  for  it  was  with 
dilTiculiy  he  could  walk,  and  conducted  ihein  through  the  gale  lo  Uie 
barriers;  he  said  to  sir  Walter,  who  was  ihere  waiting  for  him — 

•■  ■  I  deliver  up  lo  you,  as  governor  of  Calais,  these  six  citiiens,  and 
•we*r  to  you  they  were,  and  are  at  lliis  day,  the  moat  wealthy  and  (^ 
■pcctable  tiihabiianta  of  the  town.  1  beg  of  you,  gentle  sir,  that  df 
ytttu  goodueas  you  would  besoech  the  king  lliat  they  may  not  be  put  M 
d«a(h.'  '  I  cannot  answer  what  the  king  will  do  with  them,'  replied  W 
Waii«r;  'but  you  may  depend  upon  ihis,  that  I  will  do  all  I  can  loaftvs 
'  'Din  barriers  were  tjien  opened,  and  the  six  citizens  were  con- 
d  to  Ihe  pavilion  of  king  Edward.  When  sir  Waller  Mauny  had 
led  those  sis  citizens  to  the  king,  they  fell  upon  their  knees,  and, 
pltlW  hands,  »aid- 


( 


Most  gallaut  kmg,  sec  before  you  si 


B  capital  mere  hi 


9  of  Calais,  who  h'vgl 


who  bring  you  the  keys  of  llie  town  a 


y  I  H»<li»h  tnililioa  dNlua*  ihal  on*  c>r  llien  was  tba  joaag  Mn  cf  EuHaca  I 


I 

I 

I 

I 


ifii  PniLtPr.\    op    IIAIXAGLT. 

castle.    We  OTrrender  ourselves  to  your  absolute  will  i 
order  to  save  the  remainder  of  our  fellow-citizeoa  am 
Oalais,  who  have  suffered  g^'cat  distress  ami  niiserr. 
out  of  your  nobleness,  to  have  compaasion  on  us.' 

'^All  ihe  Knglish  barona,  kuigliis,  and  squires,  that 
ihere  in  great  numbers,  wept  at  this  sieht ;  but  kin|;  Edwrnrd  eywl  ihM 
with  angry  looks,  for  he  hated  much  the  people  0[  Calais,  bvcaws  rf 
the  great  losses  he  had  suflered  at  sea  by  tliem.  Ponhwith  he  oidind 
the  heads  of  the  sis  citizens  to  be  struck  off.  All  present  enlrrvlad  ih* 
king  to  he  more  merciful,  but  lie  would  not  lisieo  to  them.  Then  v 
Waller  Mauny  spoke : — 'Ah,  gentle  king.  I  beseech  yoo  reArvin  yow 
anger.  Taniisfa  not  your  noble  reputation  by  such  an  Mt  m  ibitt 
Truly,  the  whole  world  will  cry  owl  on  yout  enielty,  if  you  sbaauld  pot 
to  death  these  six  worthy  persons.*  For  all  this,  Ihe  king  gvrt  a  wmk 
to  his  marshal,  and  said, '  I  will  have  it  so ;'  and  ordered  the  bcaiaMB 
to  be  sent  for,  adding, '  the  men  of  Calais  had  done  him  sue))  duna^  il 
was  fit  they  suffered  for  it.' 

"At  this,  the  queen  of  England,  who  was  very  near  her  lyiiig-jii,fii 
on  her  knees  before  king  Edward,  and  with  tears  said, — 'AK,  gunk  m, 
silhence  I  have  crossed  the  sea  with  great  peril  to  see  you,  I  ban  mw 
asked  you  one  lavonr;  now,  I  most  humbly  ask  as  a  gift,  for  ite  Nkt 
of  the  Son  of  the  blessed  Mary,  and  as  a  proof  of  your  lore  to  n*,  iM 
lives  of  these  six  men.' 

"  King  Edward  looked  at  her  for  some  lime  in  silence,  anil  (hen  suj, 
— 'Ah.  lady,  I  wish  you  had  been  anywhere  else  than  here;  yoo  ban 
entreated  in  snch  a  manner  that  I  cannot  refuse  you.  I  iberefars  (in 
them  you — do  as  you  please  with  them.' 

'^  The  queen  conducted  the  six  citizens  to  her  apartmenis,  and  tnllht 
hallcra  taken  from  about  their  necks ;  after  which  she  new  cloih«d  lh■i^ 
and  served  them  with  a  plentiful  dinner;  she  then  presented  aach  *itfc 
six  nobles,  and  had  ihem  escorted  out  of  the  camp  in  nfeiy." 

The  French  historians,  who,  from  mortified  national  pnde,  tan 
enilenvDured  to  invalidate  this  beautiful  incident,  pretend  to  do  to  kf 
proving,  as  an  inconsistency  in  the  character  of  Pbilippa,  that  sto  IMI 
possession,  a  few  days  after  the  surrender  of  Calais,  of  the  lea^HNi 
halonging  to  one  of  her  proteges,  John  Daire.  They  have  ItkvwiMiiK 
pugned  the  psirioiism  of  Eustace  Su  Pierre,'  because  he  renuuDad  ■  (V 
taiB,  as  Edward's  subject.  But  king  Edward  giaateU  imnumitrt»d 
ihrise  who  swore  allegiance  to  him,  and  ataj-ed  io  CaUia  ;  while  Asa 
who  chose  expatriation,  like  John  Daire,  forfeited  their  tenennnis,  winit 
thej-  certainly  could  not  take  with  them.  Now,  Froissurt  has  sbon 
that  Edward  presented  his  Calitiian  captives  to  his  queen,  lo  "  do  •<* 
ihem  what  she  pleased."     This  transfer  gave  Philippi  righta  ont  Aa 

'  EuBince  WBJ  tw.1  a  solJicr.  mwad  w  his  banner,  liki-  ilip  k^  J*  r«iaa,t« 
a  burglipr,  aUBi^hed  by  maor  inliabiaiive  tie*  <d  bii  (own.  He  ww  flnrir  l^a 
Hi  Ills  princp.  wltile  Piiilip  oonlc)  extend  kintilf  pcolectiuti  lo  III*  Ikyia  « Uhk 
tnit  when  PhiJi[i  wai  tbrced  to  leave  Cnlau  lo  iti  fate,  Une  aaise  nil  n^ili  ■'i^r^ 
Eututot  K  Irantfer  bis  allegiance.    Eipauialion  ii  am  ibe  liimiiiliM  itf  ft  * 


PniLIPPA    OP    HAINAULT  193 

penons  and  property,  which  she  used  nio«t  generously  in  regard  to  tlie 
first,  but  retained  her  claims  over  the  possessions  in  the  town,  of  those 
who  refused  to  become  subjects  to  her  husband.  The  very  fact,  proved 
by  deeds  and  charters,  that  Philippa  became  proprietress  of  John  Daire's 
iKmses,  greatly  authenticates  the  statement  of  Froissart. 

It  wonld  hsTe  been  pleasant  to  record  that  Philippa  restored  the  value 
of  John  Daire's  tenements.  But  biography,  unlike  poetry  or  romance, 
iridom  permits  us  to  portray  a  character  approaching  perfection.  Truth 
eompels  os  to  display  the  same  person,  by  turns,  merciful  or  ferocious, 
fMierous  or  acquisitive,  according  to  the  mutability  of  human  passion. 
he  philoeophic  observer  of  life  will  see  no  outrage  on  probability  in 
the  filets,  that  Philippa  saved  John  Daire's  life  one  day,  and  took  posses- 
Bon  of  his  vacated  spoils  the  next  week. 

^The  king,  after  he  had  bestowed  these  six  citizens  on  qneen  Phi- 
lippa, called  to  him  sir  Walter  Mauny,  and  his  two  marshals,  the  earls 
31  Warwick  and  Stafford,  and  said — ^  My  lords,  here  are  the  keys  of  Ca- 
lais town  and  castle ;  go  and  take  possession.'  *  Directions  were  given 
or  the  castle  to  be  prepared  with  proper  lodgings  for  the  king  and  queen. 
When  this  had  been  done,  the  king  and  queen  mounted  their  steeds,  and 
ode  towards  the  town,  which  they  entered  with  the  sound  of  trumpets, 
Irams,  and  all  sorts  of  warlike  instruments.  The  king  remained  in  Ca- 
um  till  the  queen  was  brought  to  bed  of  a  daughter,  named  Margaret." 

Three  days  before  Edwaid  and  Philippa  returned  to  England,  the  em- 
wror  Louis  of  Bavaria  died,  who  had  married  Marguerite  of  Ilainault, 
he  eldest  sister  of  the  queen.  Towards  the  close  of  the  same  year,  £d- 
iranl  was  elected  emperor  of  Germany ;  an  honour  of  which  he  very 
raely  declined  the  acceptance.  At  this  time  it  was  considered  that  the 
njral  Philippa  and  her  husband  had  touched  the  height  of  human  pros- 
lerity. 

With  the  exception  of  the  trifling  disappointment  in  the  disposal  of  the 
land  of  her  eldest  daughter,  the  year  1347  closed  most  auspiciously  for 
Philippe  and  her  waiiike  lord.  But  the  military  triumphs  of  England 
mmght  with  them  some  corruption  of  manners.  At  that  time  the  jewels 
md  omamenlB,  that  once  decorated  the  females  of  France,  were  trans- 
bned  to  the  persons  of  the  English  ladies,  who,  out  of  compliment  to 
he  queen's  successful  generalship,  and  the  personal  heroism  of  the 
reliant  countess  of  Montfort,  her  kinswoman,  began  to  give  themselves 
he  airs  of  warriors ;  they  wore  small  jewelled  daggers  as  ornaments  at 
heir  boeoms,  and  their  caps,  formed  of  cambric  or  lawn,  were  cut  like 
he  aperture  of  a  knight's  helmeL  But  these  objectionable  caps  brought 
heir  own  punishment  with  them,  being  hideously  unbecoming.  The 
divrch  was  preparing  suitable  remonstrances  against  these  un^minine 
woeeedings,  when  all  pride,  whether  royal  or  national,  was  at  once  sig- 
lelly  confounded  by  the  awful  visitation  of  pestilence  which  approached 
he  shores  of  England,  1348. 

■FroittaiV    Tha  siege  lasted  fVom  June,  1346,  to  August,  1347.     Walsingfaam 
laelares  king  Edward  spared  the  people  of  Calais  in  life  and  limb— «n  obsar- 
ratkm  ha  would  soareely  have  made  if  the  contrary  had  not  bean  ezpaolad. 
VOL.  II.  — 17 


miLirp* 


nr  n Acx AULT . 


il 


I 


This  pMlilMrtr  wnn  callrd  rmphntii^ally.  rmm  iu  efleeli 
bcKly,  the  Biark  Dt^alh.  Rvt^ry  houarliolil  in  I^auloa  wia  ■■IMi,a)d 
■omc  wholly  eiterminalMl :  nur  did  Philippa's  roy*l  family  Meape,  In 
the  omrl  p^iknoe  robbed  her  of  ihe  birMi  of  her  danghtrnr  uwin  cl^ 
rum»Uince8  of  pecnlMT  horror. 

The  bcauiy  Bnd  ^cm  of  ihe  WHrond  d«n|rhtCT  of  Phili[^M,  c«Ued  At 
princPM  Joanna  of  WootlMtick,  were  surh  as  to  be  ih«  tboiiM  nf  (ivrr 
miiiiirt-I ;  iihe  was  in  b«r  fifteenth  y«<ir,  when  Alpbonso,  king  of  CkMilk 
demanded  her  in  mamage  fur  hi*  heir,  the  Infant  Pedro,  who  tAtnoA 
allained  an  undcKirable  relebrity  under  ihe  name  of  Pedro  the  Cnd 
The  prhrpM  hail  hern  nnrliirrd  and  educalml  by  that  Tirutooi  Uf 
Msrie  St.  Pol,  the  wiilnwnl  eonntmm  of  Prntbmke,  to  whoae  muaifinu 
tove  of  lenrninK  Canibriilee  owe*  one  of  her  noblMt  fi>iiiidsuon&'  A*  I 
reward  for  rearing  and  edurnlinfi  the  youn^  princess,  king  Filwud  gtn 
Ihe  rounlMs,  her  govemeay,  ilie  manor  of  Stroud,  in  Kctil,  with  timj 
exprcMionB  of  graiiiude,  catling  her  "his  deoreat  conaia  Mane  d«3L 
Pol."' 

The  fair  Joanna  wax  spared  i\tf  lormeni  of  bei^oming  the  wife  ef  dii 
most  furious  man  in  Enropi>.  by  the  more  merciful  plafue  of  the  Kick 
Dmlh.     1'he  royal   bride  sailnl  for  Botdt^aux,  at  ihe  latter  end  of  liw 
aninmer  of  1346.  white  her  falher^in-law.  ihe  knig  of  Casulle,  innlU 
10  thf  frontier  dtV)  Rnynnne,  wilh  tlie  liilADt  Dun  Pedro,  to  meet  la. 
Kin^t  Edward's  loyal  citizens  of  Bordnaui  eacorted  ihe  princcvs  Jcuni 
aA  far  as  Baycinne,  in  ihe  raihedral  of  which  eiiy  ahe  waa  to  give  km 
hand  to  Pedro.     On  Ihe  very  evening  of  her  iriumplial  eniiy  litt 
Bayonne,  the  peatilenee^  nut  of  all  the  assembled  muhitnd^v.  »tixr<d  m 
the  fcir  young  Flaniagenel  aa  a  »ieiim ;  it  terminated  her  n  i 
few  hours;  her  Spanish  bridegroom  and  the  king,  hia  tu' 
her  funeral  procession  on  ihc  very  iliiy  and  hour  that  she  u 
to  give  her  hand  as  a  bride,  at  ibe  allar  of  thai  catbedral  " 

The  deep  grief  of  the  parent*  of  Joanna  is  visible  in  the  Litin  letint> 
written  by  Edward  [II.  to  the  king  of  C^tille,  to  lina  Podro.  and  lo  ^ 
queen  of  Casiille.  If  (he  Latinity  of  these  letters  will  not  bear  the 
eritieism  of  the  classical  scholar,  they  are,  nevertheless,  lofty  in  Mali* 
ment,  and  breathe  an  expression  of  parental  tenJemesa  seldom  to  In 
found  in  stale  papen, 

"Your  daughter  and  ours,"  he  says  to  the  queen  ofCbstille,  ''was  by 
nature  wonderfully  endowed  with  gifts  and  irraces,  but  little  doM  it  nnv 
avail  to  praise  them,  or  specily  the  charms  of  that  beloved  one,  wlm  ti 
— 0  grief  of  heart  !—Jbr  ever  taken  from  us.  Yet  the  debt  of  mortalin 
must  be  paid,  however  deeply  sorrow  may  drive  lbs  ihon)|  ami  iW 
hearts  be  ttvnspierced  by  anguish.  Nor  will  our  sigba  and  laara  catcsi 
(he  inevitable  law  of  nature.  Christ,  the  celestial  spouse,  boa  lakm  tbi 
maiden  bride  to  be  his  spouse.     She,  in  her  innocent  and  JmroacBlMl 

■nderBil  a  widow  on  liet  btiilal  ilaj,  hjr  h»r  noxtT 
killAl  at  ilia  unirnainenl  rIvui  in  honotu  of  hi*  n:ii>ll»i» 
i«VBi  maiiied  affiio,  but  dcvoiod  hei  gnrnt  weatib  to  rhuitr 


FBILIPPA    OF    nMHAULT.  195 

I  has  been  transferred  to  the  virgin  choir  in  heaven,  where,  for  us 
r,  she  will  perpetually  intercede." 

e  queen  must  have  imadned  that  her  royal  and  handsome  progeny 
ioomed  to  a  life  of  celihacy ;  for  some  extraordinary  accident  or 
,  had  hitherto  prevented  the  marriage  of  her  daughtera.  Her  heroic 
Edward  had  been  on  the  point  of  marrying  several  princesses,  with- 
18  nuptials  ever  being  brought  to  a  conclusion, 
long  attachment  had  subsisted,  between  him  and  his  beautiful 
1,  Joanna,  daughter  of  his  uncle,  Edmund  eail  of  Kept,  and  the 
had  remained  un  wedded  till  her  twenty-fifth  year,  afler  being 
»d  from  the  earl  of  Salisbury,  to  whom  she  had  been  contracted  in 
lAuacy.  Queen  Philippa  had  a  great  objection  to  her  son^s  union 
bis  cousin,*  on  account  of  the  Mightiness  of  the  lady's  disposition, 
vainly  hoping  for  the  royal  consent  to  her  union  with  her  cousin, 
a  nve  her  hand  to  Sir  Thomas  Holland ;  but  still  the  Black  Prince 
Ma  a  bachelor. 

sr  the  grand  crisis  of  the  capture  of  Calais,  Philippa  resided  chiefly 
^[land.  Our  country  felt  the  advantage  of  the  beneficent  presence 
queen.  Philippa  had  in  her  youth  established  the  woollen  manu- 
es :  she  now  tiimed  her  sagacious  intellect  towards  working  the 
nines  in  Tynedale  —  a  branch  of  national  industry,  whose  inesti- 

benefits  need  not  be  dilated  upon.  The  mines  had  been  worked, 
j^reat  profit,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  III.,  but  the  convulsions  of  the 
sh  wars  had  stopped  their  progress.  Philippa  had  estates  in  Tyne- 
ind  she  had  long  resided  in  its  vicinity,  during  Edward's  Scottish 
igps.  It  was  an  infallible  result,  that,  wherever  this  great  queen 
•a  her  attention,  wealth  and  national  prosperity  speedily  followed. 
did  her  actions  illustrate  her  Flemish  motto,  Iche  wrude  muche^ 
.  obsolete  words  may  be  rendered,  ^  I  labour  (or  toil)  much."  Soon 
lier  return  from  Calais,  she  obtained  a  grant  from  her  royal  lord,* 

permission  to  her  bailiff  Alan  de  Strothere,  to  work  the  mines  of 
leston,  which  had  been  worked  in  the  days  of  king  Henry  III.  and 
rd  I.  From  this  re-opening  of  the  Tynedale  mines  by  Philippa 
ided  our  coal-trade,  which,  during  the  reign  of  her  grandson. 
'  IV.,  enriched  the  great  merchant  Whittington  and  the  city  of 

B  queen  continued  to  increase  the  royal  family.  The  princess 
who  afterwards  married  the  duke  of  Bretagne ;  prince  William, 
at  Windsor,  who  died  in  his  twelfUi  year ;  Edmund,  afterwards 
of  York,  and  Blanche,  of  the  Tower,'  were  born  before  the  sur- 
r  of  Calais;  the  princess  Margaret,  and  Thomas  of  Woodstock, 

hrie  mentions  the  long  celibaof  of  Joanna,  the  Fair  Maid  of  Kent,  pre- 
'  to  her  union  with  Holland.     Froisiart  speaks  of  Philippa*8  objections  to 
.rriaire  of  Edward  with  his  ooasin,  and  Terjr  ft-eely  enters  into  some  sean- 
sfories  regarding  her. 

9f%  FcBdera.    To  this  grant  is  added  a  curioat  claote,  giving  permiadoQ 
en  da  Veteriponte  and  his  heirs  to  be  oaUed  kiogs  of  Tynedale. 
langham. 


I 

I 


b 


haipia,ow 


enriched  by  her  siaiisiiral  wisdoi 
pd  by  ihe  c 


I    19K  FIIILIFFA    OF    nAl:>AUI.T. 

afterwards     Edward's  presents  lo  hia  queen  un  iheae  occaaioii*  m 
■nunilicent.     One  of  his  grams  is  thus  anectionately  worded — 

July  20.     The  king  orders  his  exchequer  to  pay  "our  Philippe, ew 
deereel  consort,  five  hundred  [Kiuiids,  to  litiuiilate  the  exp«[uea  ■'  ' 
churcliiag  at  Windsor."  '     This  was  an  occasion  of  the  birth  o' 
William,  Piiilippu's  second  son  of  that  name. 

Philippa  did  not  disdain  the  alliance  of  the  great  English  noblai 
objeciion  (o  the  union  of  Edward,  her  cliiialric  heir,  with  Joa  _ 
Fair,  arose  solely  Irom  disapprobation  of  the  moral  chancier  g 
priacess.'  Her  next  surviving  son,  Lionel,  she  not  only  anilei* ' 
English  nukideu,  but  undertook  the  wardship  and  education  of  h'  ^ 
bride,  as  may  be  learned  from  this  document.  >*  January  1,  1347. 
ward  III.  gives  to  his  dearest  consort  Pliilippa  the  wardship  of  the  penal 
of  Dizabeih  de  Burgh,  daughter  lo  the  deceased  earl  of  Ulster.  (iluD  it 
Ireland,)  with  her  lands  and  lordships,  until  Lionel,  yel  in  lender  yart) 
shall  take  the  young  Elizabeth  lo  wife."  *  Two  of  Philippa's  tout  w(R 
married  to  Englishwomen  by  her  special  agency. 

Queen  Philippa,  with  her  son  ihe  Black  Prince,  paid  a  trisit  to  ttm- 
wich  in  1350,  and  there  held  a  magnlGceut  lournanietiL     The  mil 
mother  and  her  heroic  son  were  received  by  the  inhabitants  of  Hie  aSf, 
n,  Willi  the  utmost  gratitude,  ud  «•( 
jrporalion,  at  an  expense  of  37/.  is.  6|^  >■  Mfftn* 
by  their  records. 

The  grand  victory  of  Poiriiers  distinguished  the  ye«r  MW.  i 
prouder  day  than  that  of  Neville's  Cross  was  ihe  5th  of  SCay,  tISTi 
when  Edward  the  Black  Prince  landed  at  Sandwich  with  his  ro^fi^ 
soner,  king  John,  and  presented  him  lo  his  molher.  after  that  ^ionm 
entry  into  London,  where  the  prince  tacitly  gave  John  the  lioaaurs  eft 
suzerain,  by  permitting  him  to  mount  the  famous  white  charger  on  wUd 
he  ro<le  at  Poictiers,  and  which  was  captured  with  him.'  Al  the  not 
lime  that  the  i|ueen  received  Iter  vanquished  kinsman,  her  son  pmeaMl 
to  her  another  prisoner,  who,  young  as  he  was,  was  far  fiercer  io  Wi 
captivity  than  the  king  of  Prance;  ihis  was  Philip,  the  fourth  foaof 
king  John,  a  little  hero  of  fourteen,  who  had  fouglii  dcsp^rsiely  by  In 
father's  side  on  the  lost  field,  and  had  been  captured  whh  atrnt'SH- 
cully  alive,  and  not  till  he  was  desperately  wouniled.^  The  6m  (IbT  tl 
Iiis  arrival  at  the  court  uf  England,  he  gave  a  proof  c>f  hU  fii  iiinw.tff 
starling  from  the  Cable,  where  he  sat  at  dinner,  with  the  katg  and  ^ms 
and  his  father,  aud  boidng  the  ears  of  king  Edward's  ea)i-be>rei^fe( 
serving  the  king  of  England  before  the  king  of  France;  •*  for,"  ha  isi 
^thongh  his  lather,  king  John,  was  unfortunate,  he  was  the  m 
of  the  king  of  England."  Edward  aud  PhUippa  only  ^ti"'  ' 
boy's  petulance, and  treated  him  with  indulgent  benevoleni ' 

'Ciili-7^»  FuKlera.  ■Froinart.  vol.  li.  'Cj 

'Tlie  whits  horte  va»  always,  in  the  middle  Bgei.  tlio  sign   < 

'Pliilip  te  Haidi,  dulce  of  Bar)pind]r.     He  waa  a  prince  or  gnti 
alwayt  bidifiit  to  bis  anfbmuiMiB  no^bew,  Clurles  VI. — Giffard. 


zM 


PIIIMPPA    OF    IIAtXAULT.  197 

be  qimtrrllei]  tvith  the  princ-e  nf  Wales,  at  a  gnme  of  chess,  ihey  most 
COnrliHiUsly  deciileti  the  ilispuieil  move  in  favour  of  prince  Philip. 

Tlwi  nnowiied  cbNinpion,  eir  Bertranil  Uu  GuescUn,  was  one  of  the 
pmoners  of  Puicil^ra.  One.  day,  when  queen  Philippn  was  enterlainins 
■t  her  court  a  number  of  the  noble  French  prisoners,  the  prince  of 
Wales  proposed  that  Du  Gueecliii  should  aame  his  own  ransom,  accord- 
ing lo  the  eliqiieltc  of  the  limes,  adding,  that  whatever  sum  he  men- 
lionedf  txi  it  small  or  great,  should  set  him  free.  The  Taliant  Breton 
vklued  Iiiniself  al  a  hundred  Ihousaml  crowns ;  the  prince  of  Wales 
•IBited  at  the  imniejise  sum,  and  asked  sir  Bertranil  "  how  he  could  ever 
expect  to  raise  «uch  an  enormous  ransom  ?"  "  I  know,"  replied  the 
hno,  ^  a  htindreii  knidus  in  luy  native  Breta^e,  who  would  morlg^ 
their  Ia«l  acre,  raiher  than  Du  GuDsclin  should  either  languish  in  cap- 
QTiiy,  or  be  ntted  below  hts  vahre.  Yea,  and  (here  is  not  a  woman  in 
Fianco  DOW  toiling  at  her  diatalT,  who  would  not  devote  a  year's  earn- 
ings In  art  me  free,  for  well  have  I  deserved  of  their  sex.  And  if  all 
ihr  fair  spinners  m  France  employ  their  hands  lo  redeem  me,  think  you. 
pniir.n,  whether  I  shall  bide  much  longer  with  you  f" 

Queen  Phillppa,  who  had  listened  wiili  great  attention  to  the  diecus- 
Uon  fietween  her  son  and  his  prisoner,  now  spoke  ' — 

"  I  name."  she  said, ''  til^y  thousand  crowns,  my  son,  as  my  conlribu- 
Uon  towards  your  gallant  prisoner's  ransom  ^  for  though  an  en^my  lo 
icy  husbaml,  a  knight  who  is  famed,  for  the  courteous  protection  he  has 
•nirOed  to  my  sex,  deserves  the  assistance  of  every  woman  ' 

Du  Guesclin  immediately  llirew  himsetf  at  the  feet  of  the  generous 
queen,  saying — 

■*  Ah,  Uidy.  being  the  ugliest  knight  in  France,  I  never  reckoned  on 
uy  gmxliiess  from  your  sex,  excepting  from  those  whom  I  had  aided  or 
potected  by  my  aword,  but  your  bounty  will  make  me  think  less 
dnpicably  of  myself." 

Philippa,  as  is  usual  in  the  brightest  specimens  of  female  excellence, 
vu  the  friend  of  her  own  sex,  and  honoured  those  men  most  who  paid 


I 


"iCl 


.  ..    ^ us  festival  ever  known  in  England  was  that  held  at 

^V'indtor,  in  tlie  cnmniencement  of  the  year  1358,  for  the  diversion  of 
liie  two  roynl  prisoners,  John,  king  of  France,  and  David  Bruce,  of 
Sci^ilauil.  The  Itound  Tower  at  Windsor,  despite  of  the  heavy  expenses 
<^  war,  was  completed,  on  purpose  that  the  feast,  called  the  Bound  Table 
of  the  Knights  of  the  Garter,  might  be  held  within  it.  The  captive 
mtjeaties  of  Fmnce  and  Si-otlund  were  invited  to  that  feasl  as  guests,  and 
M  OCX  on  each  eide  of  Edward  III.  King  John  and  king  David  tilted 
)i  the  li»ta.'    The  interest  of  the  ceremony  was  further  enhanced  by  the 

'Gldhnl  anribiit-i  this  brautifiil  anwilote  lo  JraniiB,  tlie  wife  of  iha  Blact 
fnre,  and  (ilwe*  the  incident  i.Rer  the  bailie  of  NnvBir^e.  We  fbltow  the 
■nbntit^r  of  St.  Pela)^,  in  his  Hiatorjr  of  rhivnlry,  snpjiorlcd  by  wveral  French 
hausiu.     It  is  the  subject  of  a  vpirited  Breton  Inllnil  romanoc. 

It  ftning  qiinen  i*  in  poijeiiion  of  two  iro|ihieKif  the  triumph*  oflier  gre"t 
t,  nillippa  and  EdwanI,  which  are  M  the  nunc  lime  memorioli  oC  tKi* 


I 


Hi  VUILIFF*     or    HAIITAIILT. 

hul  ■'■cidpnl  whirh  bcrd  the  (tout  earl  nf  Sslinbury.  whn  wm  ki1Ii>d  ii 
our  of  the  enroiinten  ni  the  lists-  Rqxirt  nvs.  tliBt  kiu^  John.  «i 
Fnuicr,  wms  Rlill  mare  captiTainl  with  the  beauijr  of  Udy  Ssliabur;  than 
king  IMwuiI  )iad  bivti,  snc]  M  ho])cles»ly,  Tur  that  fair  and  rinaoBi 
woman  relink  into  the  deepest  Be^luiioci,  nTtcr  thr  calttmilotH  deaih  d 
Iter  lord.'  Afler  the  WiiKlsnr  (tnwnl,  Edward  plnrcd  king  John  in  u 
irksome  captivity,  and  prcpored  for  thr  re»inva»ioii  of  Frmiet. 

Unrcn  Philinpa  rnibitrki-d,  with  her  husband,  tor  lh«  mw  i ■iihm"(ii. 
on  ihp  29ih  of  Ortobtr.  1359.  All  hrr  Bons  were  with  ihe  annT,ci- 
crptine  the  liiOc  priiire.  Thonias  of  Woodstork.  who,  at  the  redouMabli 
KF  offlre  year*,  wa«  left  guanlian  of  the  kingdom,' and  repreaentcd  te 
niajeaiy  of  his  father**  person,  by  sitting  on  (he  throne  wlira  pvUuanli 
wore  held. 

After  Edward  had  marched  ihroagh  France  without  rvsreianccaadfif 
the  iTUih  must  be  epnken)  devolaiing,  as  he  went,  a  bleeding  and  nm- 
ing  country  in  a  most  ungenerous  manner,  his  career  was  sti>f^>ed,  u  it 
WHS  hastening  to  by  mf^  to  Parts,  by  tile  hand  of  God  ilseU".  One  tl 
lliose  dreadful  ihunder-alunns  which  at  disunt  cycles  pass  urer  the  CM- 
(iiient  of  Prance,*  liieislly  atlaeked  the  invading  army  wiiliin  two  iMW 
of  Charlres,  and  wreaked  its  utmost  fury  on  the  proud  chivaby  olflf- 
land.  Six  thousand  of  Edward's  finest  horses,  and  one  thouaaod  ef  w 
briTcsi  cavnliers,  nmong  whom  wfrc  the  heirs  of  Wsrwick  aod  Horini 
were  struck  deati  before  him.  The  guilty  ambition  of  Edward  hiwU  Iw 
ronscieiice;  he  knell  down  on  ihespot,  and,  spreading  his  hands  towirii 
llie  churehof  Our  Lady  of  Chartres,  vowed  tosioplbe  efibsiooofblMd, 
and  make  peace  on  the  spot  with  France.  His  queen,  who  wistHsit  mB 
for  the  noble-minded  king  of  France,  held  him  to  his  resulutitm;  andii 
pMi^e,  containing  tolerable  articles  for  France,  was  concluded  at  Bretifiiy. 
The  queen,  king  Edward,  and  tho  royal  family,  relumed,  and  landed  A 
Rye,  I61I1  of  May,  ten  dsys  after  the  peace. 

After  the  triumph  of  Poicliers,  the  king  and  queen  no  lon^r  oppottA 
the  union  of  the  prince  of  Wales  with  Joanna  the  Fair,*  although  ihX 
princess  was  four  years  older  than  Edward,  and  her  chanctirr  sod  di»* 
posilioii  were  fer  from  meeting  the  approval  of  the  queen.  Edward  and 
Joanna  were  married  in  the  queen^t  presence,  at  Windsor  Chapel, Ocinfao 
10,  1361.  AHer  this  marriage,  king  Edward  invested  his  son  wiihtlw 
duchy  of  Aquilaine,  and  he  departed,  with  his  bride,  in  «n  evil  hnur.  is 

tiiltli  l»Hval  of  itae  Rounil  Table  at  Windrori  these  are  ibe  mils  of  aiu^ 
viora  by  king  John  aiul  king  OsviJ  on  thai  oecsiioo. 

'  Dug jnlp.     MiUn.  *F<B(len,  vol,  ii. 

*  It  wni  isonBideml  ibnt  ihp  acconnts  of  ihii  itorm  had  been  grrailj  «a>gL 
by  lite  rhnmiclert.  till  thai  itill  more  dtMilfiil  one  nvaged  France  bi  ITMXan 
hiistenBii,  tyy  Ibe  fliminv  il  bnmghi,  thr  Freoob  r«Toluiion. 

■  Jonnna  manieri  the  prioce,  a  Ipw  moalba  aAet  tho  death  of  her  Orel  bi 
Aaeidei  iheit  neamei*  of  kin,  Mher  impeiliineDl*  eiUtnl   M    ~    * 
IMincs  had  farmed  ■  itill  nroiURr  relitioii<bi|>  wilb  hu  omiiin, 
lnwi  of  the  Cniholia  church,  by  bewming  ipoiiKiT  10  hei  two  1 
tbam  in  bia  aims  at  Ibe  baptismal  ttu\\i  lUiU,  ■.bovo  nil,  the  d. 
ttan  llie  nul  of  Sniitbury  was  not  ooneiiieteit  legal.  All  ihew  ii 

bf  a  buU,  citMBieiai  lomia  ttne  aOm  lUa  ■■wiiai     Jtumf^Jt^dM^.  ■ 


PHILIPPA    OF    nAINAULT.  l99 

ffem  that  territory.    Froiasart,  speaking  of  the  farewell  Tint  of  the 


**  I)  John  Fioianrt,  aothor  of  theee  chronicles,  was  in  the  serrioe  of 

leen  Philippa^  when  she  accompanied  king  Edward  and  the  ro3ral 

iuIt  to  Beirklnmstead  Castle,  to  take  leave  of  the  prince  and  princess 

Wales  on  their  departure  for  Aquitaine.    I  was  at  that  time  twenty- 

iir  years  old,  and  one  of  the  clerks  of  the  chamber  to  my  lady  the 

cen.  During  this  visit,  as  I  was  seated  on  a  bench,  I  heard  an  ancient 

light  expovndjDg  some  of  the  prophecies  of  Merlin  to  the  queen's 

lies.     According  to  him,  neither  the  prince  of  Wales  nor  the  duke  of 

nvDce,  though  sons  to  king  Edward,  will  wear  the  crown  of  England, 

tt  it  will  fall  to  the  house  of  Lancaster.^ 

Tliis  gives  a  specimen  of  the  conversation  with  which  maids  of  hon- 

nr  in  the  reign  of  queen  Philippa  were  entertained,  not  with  scandal  or 

riiioiis,  but  with  the  best  endeavours  of  an  ancient  knight  to  tell  a  for* 

De,  or  peep  into  futurity,  by  the  assistance  of  the  wizard  Merlin. 

King  John,  soon  af^  the  peace,  took  leave  of  the  queen,  for  the  pur- 

me  cf  returning  to  France,  that  he  might  arrange  for  the  payment  of 

■  ransom :  he  sent  to  England  the  youn£  lord  de  Courcy,  count  of 

wBBons,  as  one  of  the  hostages  for  its  liquioation.    During  the  sojourn 

'  De  Courcy  in  England,  he  won  the  heart  <^  the  lady  Isabella,  the 

dest  daughter  of  Edward  and  Philippa.    Afler  remaining  some  time  in 

nnce,  and  finding  it  impossible  to  fulfil  his  engagements,  king  John 

tnmed  to  his  captivity,  and  redeemed  his  parole  and  his  hostages  with 

is  noble  sentiment :  ^  If  honour  were  lost  elsewhere  upon  earth,  it 

ight  to  be  found  in  the  conduct  of  kings.''     Froissart  thus  describes 

m  letam  of  this  heroic,  but  unfortunate  sovereign. 

■*News  was  brought  to  the  king,  who  was  at  that  time  with  queen 

bilippa  at  Eltham,  (a  very  magnificent  palace  the  English  kings  have 

Ten  miles  from  London,)  that  the  captive  king  had  landed  at  Dover. 

his  was  in  13G4,  the  Ist  of  January.    King  Edward  sent  off  a  grand 

station,  saying  how  much  he  and  the  queen  were  rejoiced  to  see  him 

,  En^nd,  and  this,  it  may  be  supposed,  all  things  considered,  king 

ihn  readily  believed.    King  John  o^red  at  the  shrine  of  Thomas  a 

ecket,  at  Canterbury,  on  his  journey,  and  taking  the  road  to  London 

9  arrived  at  Eltham,  where  queen  Philippa  and  king  Edward  were  ready 

I  reeeive  him.    It  was  on  a  Sunday,  in  the  afternoon ;  there  were,  he- 

reen  that  time  and  supper,  many  grand  dances  and  carols,  at  which  it 

seras  the  young  lord  de  Courcy  distinguished  himself  by  singing  and 

neiog.    1  can  never  relate  how  very  honourably  the  king  and  queen 

ihared  to  king  John  at  Eltham.    They  afterwards  lodged  him  with 

rent  pomp  in  the  palace  of  the  Savoy,  where  he  visited  king  Edward  at 

remninster,  whenever  he  had  a  mind  to  see  him  or  the  queen,  taking 

Ml,  and  coming  from  Savoy-stairs  by  water  to  the  palace."    But  king 

ibn's  health  was  declining,  and  he  died  at  the  Savoy  Palace  the  same 
I 


I  Knowing  hit  end  approachinfc,  king  John  had  certainly  furrendered  his 
n,  in  hopes  of  saving  hit  conntiy  the  expenie  of  his  tansom. 


I  rr  A    op     IIAIN  AL'bT. 


an]  lit;    j 


• 

I 
I 


^B  soon  oner  tuok  |ilace, bciw nh  i)ie  cipgant  De  Ctyatmfwi 
the  princoM  royal.  Aliliou^b  an  eiDporur's  ^raudsoa,  thia  nobUmn 
CoaM  tctrcely  be  conudered  a  malcli  for  the  daugliter  of  Eiliran]  HI-; 
bui  ainc»  the  rscspe  nf  her  Taiihlesa  beiroilicd,  ihe  coani  of  Rsniler*,  ' 
IwbciU  hul  eiiii^reil  into  no  marriage  conUvct,  uid  was,  at  the  lime  of 
lii^r  iiiipliflU,  tunicd  <>!'  tliirty.  On  occasion  of  tlie  miuTiagii  fcturak 
kiiii;  (jlwnnl  preMiitcd  his  qu#«n  with  two  rich  cancts,  one  mibronlefei 
with  tlir  wonla^^rt  biddingr,  aad  the  oilier  with  her  motlo^  lehe  wnii  i 
muelu.'  Prince  Lionel  al  thia  liioe  eauoused  the  ward  of  aneen  Phili|9% 
Elizabeth  tie  Burgh,  who  brought,  as  dower,  at  least  oue-third  of  ItdlWi 
with  the  tnighty  inheritance  of  the  Clares,  earla  of  Gloucester.  Edwwd 
111.  aftcrwanla  creAted  Lionel  duke  of  Clarence. 

Thid  prince,  tlirough  wliiMe  daughter,  married  to  Edmund  MwtinMr, 
the  line  of  York  denved  tlieir  primogeniture,  was  a  handaonie  and  «»■ 
rageoua  Flemish  giant ;  mild-tempered  and  amiable,  aa  pervoni  of  pfll 
strength  and  stature^  by  a  beneficent  law  of  nature,  usually  are.  liotd 
is  r»iher  an  obacure,  though  imporlant  person  in  English  history:  itn 
is  bis  pwrtrait  by  the  last  of  our  rhyming  chroniclers : 

"  In  nil  llie  world  then  was  no  prince  hiin  like, 
or  bigli  tlalure  and  of  all  ■pemlin^n 
AtMVs  atl  men  Wilhln  Uie  whole  kingrib  (binFlom), 
Bt  tlie  (boulJon  inighi  br  teen,  doubdcu, 
la  hall  wu  he  ■uai.l.like  foi  KeMletxct, 
In  other  placr.  filmed  lor  rhciorio. 
Bui  in  the  Held  a  liuii  KiaMoaiit.  "■ 

Death  soon  dissolved  the  wedlock  of  Elizabtrth  de  Burgh  :  she  left  » 
daughter  but  a  few  days  old.  This  motherless  babe  the  quet^n  Philip|ia 
adopted  for  her  own,  and  became  sponsor  to  her,  with  the  connieaa  of 
Warwick,  as  we  leam  from  the  Fnar^s  Genealogy,  when  roentioniDg 
Lionel  of  Clarence : 

■'  Hia  wife  wu  dead  anii  at  Oue  bniieil. 
And  DO  heir  had  be  but  bii  daiigblei  fiui,  , 

Pbi1i|ipf,  that  highl  as  chroniolea  (peoifled, 
Whom  queen  Philippe  cbiiflened  for  hii  h«r. 
The  arcbbithop  or  Yoik  for  her  compoei ; 
Her  Kotlmoiher  nlgn  w«»  of  Wirwiok  ci 
A  tadf  likewiw  of  great  wortbineu." 

John  of  Gaunt,  (he  third  enrvivjng  son  of  Phflippa,  mamed  Rlaneba, 
the  heiress  of  Lancaster ;  the  princess  Mary  was  wedded  lo  the  dtke  rf 
Rreiagne,  but  died  early  in  life.  Edmund  Langley,  *»rl  of  Ounbftlin 
afterwards  duke  of  York,  married  Isabella  of  Oislille,  wbow  dner,  nl 
brotlict,  John  of  Gaunt,  took  for  his  second  wife.  The  roungett  praM 
Thomas  iif  Wnodslock,  afterwards  created  duke  of  Gloucesivr,  narried 
an  English  lady,  the  eo-heiresa  of  Humphry  de  Bohun,  cooelaMe  of 
England.    Margaret,  the  fiAh  daughter  of  Edfrard  III.,  was  gireo  in  mi^ 

iwt  6>ct  to  (ii  Harris  Nioolas's  elcelieni  work  a 
vflfaaOaner. 

Vhat  son  of  ibing  Oils  maj  be,  •>«  ham  m 


PHILIPPA    or    HAINAVLT.  201 

m  to  the  earl  of  Pembroke ;  she  was  one  of  the  most  learned  ladies 

tier  nge^  and  a  distinguished  patroness  of  ChaucerJ 
Notwithstanding  their  ffreat  strength  and  commanding  stature,  scarcely 
e  of  the  sons  of  Philippa  reached  old  age ;  even  ^  John  of  Gannt, 
le-honoared  Lancaster,"  was  only  fifty-nine  at  his  demise :  the  pre- 
itnre  introduction  to  the  cares  of  state,  the  weight  of  plate  armour, 
d  the  violent  exercise  in  the  tilt-yard — ^by  way  of  relaxation  from  the 
rerer  toils  of  partisan  warfare — seem  to  have  brought  early  old  age  on 
m  gmllant  brotherhood  of  princes.    The  queen  had  been  the  mother 

twelve  children ;  eight  survived  her. 

Every  one  of  the  sons  of  Philippa  were  famous  champions  in  the 
Id.  The  Black  Prince  and  John  of  Gaunt,  were  learned,  elegant,  and 
illiant,  and  strongly  partook  of  the  genius  of  Edward  L  and  the  Pro- 
of ml  Plantagenets.  Lionel  and  Edmund  were  good-natured  and  brave. 
liey  were  comely  in  features,  and  gigantic  in  stature ;  they  possessed 
I  great  vigour  of  intellect,  and  were  both  rather  addicted  to  the  plea- 
les  of  the  table.  Thomas  of  Woodstock  was  fierce,  petulant,  and  ra- 
icious ;  he  possessed,  however,  considerable  accompUishments,  and  is 
ekoned  among  royal  and  noble  authors ;  he  wrote  a  history  ^  of  the 
iws  of  Battle,"  which  is  perspicuous  in  style ;  he  was  the  great  patron 
*  Gower  the  poet,  who  belonged  originally  to  the  household  of  this 
ince. 

The  queen  saw  the  promise  of  a  successor  to  the  throne  of  England, 

the  progeny  of  her  best-beloved  son  Edward.  Her  grandson  Richard 
■8  bom  at  Bordeaux,  before  she  succumbed  to  her  &tal  malady. 

Philippa  had  not  the  misery  of  living  to  see  the  change  in  Uie  pros- 
iritj  of  her  fiunily ;  to  witness  tlie  long  pining  decay  of  the  heroic 
riaoe  of  Wales ;  the  grievous  change  in  his  health  and  disposition ;  or 
le  imbecility,  that  gradually  took  possession  of  the  once  mighty  mind 
r  her  husband.  Before  these  reverses  took  place,  the  queen  was  seized 
^ilh  a  dropsical  malady,  under  which  she  languished  about  two  years. 
U  her  sons  were  absent,  on  the  continent,  when  her  death  approached, 
Kcepting  her  youngest,  Thomas  of  Woodstock.  The  Black  Prince  had 
ast  concluded  his  Spanish  campaign,  and  was  ill  in  Gascony.  Lionel 
(  Clarence  was  at  the  point  of  death  in  Italy ;  the  queen's  secretary, 
'roissart,  had  accompanied  that  prince,  when  he  went  to  be  married  to 
^iolante  of  Milan.  On  the  return  of  Froissart,  he  found  his  royal  mis- 
RHs  was  dead,  and  he  thus  describes  her  deathbed,  from  the  detail  of 
hose  who  were  present  and  heard  her  last  words.  ^  I  must  now  speak' 
i  the  death  of  the  most  courteous,  liberal,  and  noble  lady  that  ever 
lined  in  her  time,  the  lady  Philippa  of  Hainault,  queen  of  England. 

Voile  her  son,  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  was  encamped  in  the  valley  of 

-^_ -^^^■^^—^~  _     —^^•^^^ 

'Philippa,  in  conjunction  with  her  sod,  John,  duke  of  Lancaster,  warmly  pa- 
tttiaed  Chaucer.  With  this  queen,  the  court  favour  of  the  fiither  of  English 
»M  expired.  He  was  neglected  by  Richard  11.  and  his  queen,  as  all  his  me- 
M»  will  testify.  Nor  did  the  union  of  his  wife's  sister  with  the  duke  of 
Hieaster  draw  him  iVom  his  retirement. 

'  FMsmrt,  vol.  iv.  p.  30.  Froissart  wrote  an  elegy  in  verse,  on  the  deadi  oC 
I  patroness,  queen  Philippa,  which  has  not  been  preserved. 


I 


I 


909  ruiLirpA   op   haikaitlt. 

Toarnehain.  ready  In  give  builc  to  the  duke  of  Baimouif,  tm  tetb 
hai^ned  in  Engkiul,  \a  thu  infinite  miBTorUDe  of  king  Ed<nnlttui 
ebililrrn,  vid  the  whnle  kin^lom.  Tlmi  sxcelleni  tady  ih*  qowo,  wtio 
had  done  90  mix^l)  g<i<H!,  oidiii;;  ill  knighu,  ImImm,  and  dtnaeU,  whd 
(liKtrwsrtl.  who  luul  ap^ilied  lo  h«r,  wu*  al  ihi*  lime  dwigcraoily  scku 
Wiiid«or  Caitlei  aiid  every  <lay  b^r  disonkr  incnnaed.  Wt|CDlli*|iiod 
i|ur-en  (H-rceived  iltni  livr  «nil  ipprotched.  ahe  called  lo  ibe  ki^awtt- 
leiidtug  tier  ri^hi  hand  from  under  the  bedclMhu,  pui  it  inio  ihc  afkl 
hand   of    Kiiif   toward,  who  was  op|>rc»Md   wiiJi   •orrow,  and  ibM 

••■  W«  ha*e,  my  hu  *ha  ml.  enjoy ftd  onr  long  union  in  hapmnMi.pnat 
and  proaperlty.  But  1  eniieat,  before  I  depart,  and  we  are  lor  em  wjt' 
lalod  in  ihiB  woHd,  that  yuu  will  Kninl  me  three  reannta.'  Kif^FJ- 
ward,  with  ligli*  and  t«ars.  replied — *  Lady,  name  them;  whatfttrbi 
your  rrqaesla,  lliey  aliall  be  granted.'  'My  lord,'  ehe  aaid,  'I  bcg*m 
will  fulfil  whatever  enfafpiuenia  I  have  entered  into  with  mcrchaiKi  fot 
(heir  warea,  •■  well  on  this  as  on  the  otlier  aide  of  the  mm  ;  I  bcMM^ 
you  to  fullil  wliatever  gifia  or  legariea  1  have  made,  or  Irii  lo  chtmha 
wherein  I  have  jiaid  my  d«*oiiona,  and  to  all  my  serranla,  wballM 
niale  or  female;  and  when  it  ahall  please  Ood  lo  call  yon  bayO»,Jtt 
will  chooae  no  other  sepulchre  llian  mioe,  and  that  you  will  liekjriw 
side  |[.  the  cloiateis  of  Westmmaler  Abbey.'  The  king  in  (eu>  Itfbi, 
'  Ijuiy,  all  iliia  ■hall  be  done.' 

■'Soon  al'ter,  ihe  good  lady  made  the  sign  of  the  croae  on  hnbMi( 
and   having  reconimeniled   to  ihe  king  he.t  ymingral  aon  TtiotBa%  rtl 
wai  preaenu  praying  to  God,  ilie  gave  up  her  spirit,  which  I  firmly  t»- 
lieve  wa«  caught  by  holy  angrU,  and  carried  to  tlie  glory  of  heavaStfet 
the  hail  never  dune  anythnig  by  thought  or  deed  to  endanger  bar  aaiL    j 
Thus  died  tliii  admirable  queen  of  England,  in  the  year  of  grace  iSflft     ' 
the  vigil  nf  the  AMnuiptitHi  of  the  Virgin,  the  14ih  of  Auguat-     Infona^     • 
Uun  o(  this  heavy  loea  was  carried  lo  the  Engliih  army  at  TourarhaB.     ' 
wluch  gready  alHieied  every  one,  mora  espMtally  her  aon.  Jobs  et 
Gaunt,  duke  of  Laocaaier." 

Philippa'a  word*  were  not  complied  wiih  to  the  letter;  her  gn*eit 
not  by  her  husband*!  side  at  Weiiminaier  Abbey,  but  at  hie  feet  tia 
■talue  in  atabsBter  is  placed  on  the  monument.'  Skelton'a  translalino  «f 
her  L^iin  epitaph,  hung  on  a  tablet  cloae  by  her  tomb,  la  as  follow* : 

■  Slow  fiVB*  naniM  10  lb*  DUinatoui  imDtn  vrbinh  lurround  tba  lonilk  ntbt  I 
BOIBonlj  of  u  oJil  MS.  At  iba  Jccl  ara  Uw  kiug  of  Navarre,  the  kin(  of  B(>k»  . 
mia.  ibe  kmg  of  Scoli.  ilie  kioji  or  Spain,  aod  Ihe  kiugof  SKily,      Ai  ihf  fi™^ 

William  emlDf  Hainauli.  Pbilippai  faibei ;  John.  kiBfOtTm:,.  .      ' -'■  ■ 

•on  ;  E'lwin!  HI-,  hei  bwband  ;  tUe  emperor,  her  broi!ipr-iD-I-->  >« 

piiuceof  Wain,  her  ton.    Od  lbs  left  aiJa  are  Juuma,  t^tic   . 

•iMer-iu4aw  i  Jolm  rarl  of  Cornwall,  bar  bKHber-in-law ;  Juu. 

Walaa,  br  daogbier-in-law,  and  Ilia  ducheHO  i>f  Clarenea    .1  < 

ttia  prinoe»»  ItabcUa,  and   ibo   priiwei   Lionel,  John,    Edmund   arnl  Thi^cuw 

"V  dm  liglit  >i<Ie  of  the  lonib  may  be  leen  het  laolhri,  b«i  bruUicc  W  t'  }" 


Bcpbew  Louia  of  BaTBiia,  ber  uncle  Jofan  of  Uaioaull.  Iier  daujkan 
hnd  MarsaiH,  audi  Cbatlc«  doke  of  Brabant. 


P 


PBILIPPA    OF    HAINAULT.  303 

"Faire  Philippe,  William  Haiiuuilt's  child,  and  younger  daughter  deare, 
Of  loeeate  hue  and  beauty  bright,  in  tomb  lies  hilled  here ; 
King  Edward  through  his  mother's  will  and  nobles*  good  consenti 
Took  her  to  wife,  and  joyAilly  with  her  hit  time  he  spent 
Her  brother  John,  a  martial  man,  and  eke  a  valiant  knight, 
Did  link  this  woman  to  this  king  in  bonds  of  marriage  bright 
This  matoh  and  marriage  thus  in  blood  did  bind  the  Flemings  sure 
To  Englishmen,  by  which  they  did  the  Frenchmen's  wreck  procure. 
This  Philippe,  dowered  in  gifts  full  rare,  ami  treasures  of  the  mind, 
In  beauty  bright,  religion,  (hith,  to  all  and  eaeh  most  kind, 
A  fruitful  mother  Fbliippe  was,  full  many  a  son  she  bred, 
And  brought  forth  many  a  worthy  knight,  hardy  and  full  of  dread ;  * 

A  careful  nurse  to  students  all,  at  Oxford  she  did  found 
Queen*s  College,  and  dame  Pallas  school,  that  did  her  fiime  resound. 

The  wife  of  Edward  dear, 

Queen  Philippe  lieth  here. 

Learn  lo  lire." 

Tnilh  obliges  ii8  to  divest  queen  Philippa  of  one  good  deed,  which 
in  &ct  out  of  her  power  to  perform ;  she  is  generally  considered  to 
be  the  first  foundress  of  the  msgnificent  Queen's  College,  at  Oxford.  It 
WM  founded,  indeed,  by  her  chaplain,  —  that  noble  character,  Robert  de 
Eglesfield,*  who,  with  modesty  equal  to  his  learning  aiul  merits,  placed 
it  under  the  protection  of  his  royal  mistress,  and  called  it  her  founda- 
tion, and  tlie  College  of  the  Qjueen. 

Philippa  herself,  the  consort  of  a  monarch  perpetually  engaged  in 
foreign  war,  and  the  mother  of  a  large  family,  contnbuted  but  a  mite  to- 
wards this  splendid  foundation :  this  was  a  yearly  rent  of  twenty  marks, 
lo  the  sustenance  of  six  scholar-chaplains,  to  be  paid  by  her  receiver. 
Qpeen  Philippa's  principal  charitable  donation  was  to  the  llospital  of  the 
Nuns  of  Sl  Katherine,  by  the  Tower.  She  likewise  left  donations  to 
the  canons  of  the  new  chapel  of  St.  Stephen,  which  Edward  III.  had 
ktely  built,  as  the  domestic  place  of  worship  to  Westminster  Palace. 

The  only  shade  of  unpopularity  ever  cast  on  the  conduct  of  Philippa 
was  owing  to  the  rapacity  of  her  purveyors,  aAer  her  children  grew  up. 
The  royal  family  was  numerous,  and  the  revenues,  impoverished  by  con- 
•laot  war,  were  very  slender,  and  therefore  every  absolute  due  was  en- 
forced, from  tenants  of  the  crown,  by  the  purveyors  of  the  royal  house- 
hold.' 

*  Hittorj  of  the  University  of  Oxford. 

'These  tormenting  adjuncts  to  feudality  used  to  help  themselves  to  twenty-fiva 
quBRers  of  eom,  iiuteail  of  twenty,  by  taking  heap,  instead  of  strike,  measure, 
•nd  were  guilty  of  many  instances  of  oppression,  in  the  queen's  name.  Arch- 
faitbop  blip  wroce  lo  Edward  III.  a  most  patlieiio  letter  on  the  rapacity  of  the 
royal  purveyors.  Ho  says,  "^the  king  ought  to  make  a  law  enforcing  honest  pay- 
ment for  all  goofls  needed  by  his  household.  Tlien,''  continues  he,  **  all  men 
will  bring  neoessaries  to  your  gate,  as  they  did  in  the  time  of  Henry,  your  grea^ 
gmndfisdicr,  at  whose  approach  all  men  reiuice<l.'*  He  declares.  "  that  he,  the 
aiebbisliop  himself,  trembles  at  hearing  tlie  king's  born,  whether  he  haps  to  be 
ka  bis  bouse  or  at  mass ;  when  one  of  the  king's  servants  knocks  at  the  gate,  ha 
ftwnblas  nx>re,  when  he  comes  to  the  door  still  more,  and  this  terror  continues 
m  long  as  the  king  stays,  on  ecoount  of  the  various  evils  done  to  the  poor.  Ho 
Aioks  the  king's  harbingers  come  not  on  behalf  of  God,bui  of  xha  d«i^  "^I^m^ 


s  UeJrhninber  were  pensioned  bv  tingEj- 
ng  lo  her  request.  He  charges  his  eicbe' 
rms  or  iheir  seperale  lives,  on  account  of 
^3  lo  Pliiljppa,  late  que^n  o(  Ejigland;  &iA 
1  <!c  Predion,'  lea  marks  yearly,  U  fmAt 
SlatJlda  Fiaher;  to  Elizabeth  Penhorejw 
■early ;  lo  Johanna  Cosin.  lo  Phili 


I  201  Pit  I  LI  PTA 

The  (kmsets  of  tlie  qiieeii 
.uril  nfler  lier  ilealli,  iitfordi 
ii.-r,  ■■  lo  ]ny  .luring  Uie  I. 
■leir  goD,!  ami  faiilif.il  servic 
I  lo  the  lidijvcd  ilainsel,  .\liri 
iiiul.MicliBetinas;  likewise  lo 
Juliaiiiia  Kawley,  Icn  marks  _ 

Fycanl,''  anil  lo  A^iha  Liergiii,  a  liuiiJreJ  shillingB  yearly;  anil  loMi- 
ijlda  Uailscrofi  ami  Agnes  tie  Saxilby,  five  marks  yearly." 

The  name  of  Alice  Ferrers  Joea  iioi  appear  ou  thu"  Usl  of  hAmi 
damsels,  bill  a  Ijiile  Furllier  on,  in  the  Fcedera,  occurs  a  weU-knowa  inJ 
disgracefid  grant.  "  Know  all,  lliat  we  give  and  concede  to  our  bebtri 
.Alicia  Perrers,  late  damsel  of  the  chamber  to  our  dearest  consort  Pbilipfi 
deceased,  and  lo  her  heirs  and  executors,  all  the  jewels,  goods,  and  chx- 
tels  that  die  said  ritieeii  left  in  llie  hands  of  Euphemib,  who  was  wife  to 
J  Waller  de  llcsclartori,  knight,  and  the  said  Euphemb  is  to  ddJTct  tfaca 
I  to  the  said  .Alicia,  on  receipt  of  this  onr  order." 

s  to  be  feareil  iliat  the  king's  aiiacliment  to  this  woman  had  bega 
g  Piiilippa's  lingering  illness,  for  in  1369  she  obtained  a  gift  (^1 
r  thai  had  beloiiged  lo  ihe  king's  aunl,  and  in  ihe  course  of  IW 
irichet  by  the  grant  of  several  manors.' 


PHILIPPA    OF    UAINAULT.  205 

in  law,  history,  and  the  divinity  of  the  times  :  he  understood  and  spoke 
readily  Latin,  French,  Spanish,  and  German." 

Whilst  the  court  was  distracted  with  the  factions  which  succeeded  the 
death  of  the  Black  Prince,  when  John  of  Graunt,  duke  of  Lancaster,  was 
suspected  of  aiming  at  the  crown,  a  most  extraordinary  story  was  circu- 
lated in  Elngland,  relating  to  a  confession  supposed  to  he  made  by  queen 
Philippa,  on  her  deathbed,  to  William  of  Wykeham,  bishop  of  Win- 
chester. 

^That  John  of  Gaunt  was  neither  the  son  of  Philippa,  nor  Edward 
III.,  but  a  porter's  son  of  Ghent,  for  the  queen  told  him  that  she  brought 
forth,  not  a  son,  but  a  daughter  at  Ghent,  that  she  overlaid  and  killed 
the  little  princess  by  accident,  and  dreading  the  wrath  of  king  Edward 
for  the  death  of  his  infant,  she  persuaded  the  porter's  wife,  a  Flemish 
wcNBan,  to  change  her  living  son,  who  was  bom  at  the  same  time,  for 
the  dead  princess ;  and  so  the  queen  nourished  and  brought  up  the  man 
now  called  duke  of  Lancaster,  which  she  bare  not ;  and  all  these  things 
did  the  queen  on  her  deathbed  declare,  in  confession  to  bishop  Wyke- 
ham, and  earnestly  prayed  him  ^  that  if  ever  it  chanceth  this  son  of  the 
fleiniih  porter  aflfecteth  the  kingdom,  he  will  make  his  stock  and  lineage 
known  to  the  world,  lest  a  fidse  heir  should  inherit  the  throne  of  Eng- 
kttd."' 

The  uiTentor  of  this  story  did  not  remember,  that  of  all  the  sons  of 
Philippa,  John  of  Gkiunt  most  resembled  his  royal  sire  in  the  high  ma- 

Ktic  lineaments  and  piercing  eyes,  which  spoke  the  descent  of  tlie 
LQtagenets  from  southern  Europe.  The  portraits  of  Edward  III.,  of 
the  dcgant  Black  Prince,'  and  of  John  of  Gaunt,  are  all  marked  with  as 
fltrong  an  air  of  individuality,  as  if  they  had  been  painted  by  the  accu- 
nte  Holbein.* 

The  close  observer  of  history  will  not  fail  to  notice  that  with  the 
liib  of  queen  Philippa,  the  happiness,  the  sood  fortune,  and  even  the 
mpectiuiility  of  Edward  III.  and  his  fiunily  departed,  and  scenes  of 
«tnle,  sorrow,  and  folly,  distracted  the  court,  where  she  had  once  pro- 
■Myled  virtue,  justice,  and  well-regulated  munificence. 

*  Arebbithop  Parker'f  Ecclesiai tical  History,  and  a  Latin  Chronicle  of  the  reign 
cf  Edward  IIL,  printed  in  the  Archsologia.  Some  slur  had  been  cast  on  the 
legiiiiiiaof  of  Richard  the  Second  by  the  Lancastrian  party.  John  of  Gaunt  was 
iben  a  decided  partisan  of  Wiokliffe,  and  this  story  seems  raised  by  the  opposite 
party  for  the  purpose  of  undermining  his  influence  with  the  common  people. 

*Pere  Orleans  affirms  that  the  prince  of  Wales,  just  before  the  battle  of  Poic- 
tiMBi  was  generally  called  the  Black  Prince,  because  he  wore  black  armour  in 
Older  to  set  off  the  fairness  of  his  complexion,  and  so  to  improve  his  bonm  mme. 
]t  is  to  be  noted  that  Froissart  never  calls  him  the  Black  Prince. 

*  See  the  beautiful  engravings  by  Vertue,  irom  originals,  in  Carte's  iblio  Histoij 
cf  England,  toL  ii. 


TOL.U.— 18 


ANNE  OF   BOHKIIIA. 

eURNAHBD   THE   DOOP. 

FIRST  QUEEN  OP  BECBABDII. 


Dewvni  of  AnnF  of  Boliemia — Leaet  at  iha  aniprMi  Wliiiitmlli     .ft  him  at  Hf 
■  betToibnl — Seu  mit  for  Eiiglanl — DcmneJ  <U  Bt>l»n»— Dufl*n  bf  la  ' 
III — Her  piDgtCH  -    ■       ■         — 


MB— Luids  I 
—  Mariiaee  and  coroiialion  —  Queens  tuliioo*  Mid  iiaprOTnavMI— l^iM 
fuvciiiiBble  lo  [he  RcrominiioD — King'i  campaign  in  ilie  rtunb— QWMI*I  knV 
mnrdereil — Kin  'i  broilief  condemned — Dmili  iif  tli»  prine«M  of  Wa)«^-tW 
quenn'i  fbrourit?  maid  or  honour — EieeuiicMi*of  tbaijiwra'*  " 

pieaA*  for  their  Uvbb — Gnnd  lonrnantenl — QuWnii  proai ' 
for  tlic  cilj  of  London— Her  Ti»il  lo  lb-  rity^— Oifti  K 


ANNS    OF    BOHEMIA.  907 

Kiiig  Richard  Il.'a  minority,  demanded  her  hand  for  their  young  king, 
just  before  her  father  died  in  the  year  1380. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  English  ambassador,  Sir  Simon  Burley,  at  Prague, 
the  imperial  court  took  measures  which  seem  not  a  little  extraordinary 
at  the  present  dav.  England  was  to  Bohemia  a  sort  of  terra  incognita ; 
and  as  a  general  knowledge  of  geography  and  statistics  was  certainly 
not  among  the  list  of  imperud  accomplishments  in  the  fourteenth  century, 
t}ie  empress  despatched  duke  Primislaus  of  Saxony,  on  a  voyage  of  dis« 
eovery,  to  ascertain,  for  the  satisfaction  of  herself  and  the  princess,  what 
sort  of  country  England  mi^ht  be. 

Whatever  were  the  particulars  of  the  duke's  discoveries— and  his 
homeward  despatches  must  have  been  of  a  most  curious  nature^ — ^it  ap- 
pears he  kept  a  scrutinizing  eye  in  regard  to  pecuniary  interest.  His 
report  seems  to  have  been  on  the  whole  satisfactory,  since  in  the  Fmdera 
we  find  a  letter  from  the  imperial  widow  of  Charies  IV.,  to  the  effect 
^  that  I,  Elizabeth,  Roman  empress,  always  Augusta,  likewise  queen  of 
Bohemia,  empower  duke  Primislaus  to  treat  with  Richard,  king  of  Eng- 
land, coDceming  the  wedlock  of  that  excellent  virgin,  the  damsel  Anne, 
bom  of  us,  and  in  our  name  to  order  and  dispose,  and,  as  if  our  own 
•oiil  were  pledged,  to  swear  to  the  fulfilment  of  every  engagement 

When  the  duke  of  Saxony  returned  to  Germany,  he  carried  presents 
of  jewels,  from  the  kinff  of  England,  to  the  ladies  who  had  the  care  of 
the  princess's  education^ 

^  The  duke  of  Lancaster,  John  of  Gaunt,  would  willingly  have  seen 
the  king  his  nephew  married  to  his  daughter,  whom  he  had  by  the  lady 
Blanche  of  Lancaster ;  but  it  was  thought  that  the  young  lady  was  too 
nearly  related,  being  the  kinr  s  cousin-german.  Sir  Simon  Burley,  a  sage 
and  valiant  knight,  who  had  been  king  Richard's  tutor,  and  had  been 
mneh  beloved  by  the  prince  of  Wales,  his  father,  was  deputed  to  go  to 
Germany,  reelecting  the  marriage  with  the  emperor's  sister.  The  duke 
and  ducheas  of  Brabant,  from  &  love  they  bore  the  king  of  England, 
noeivod  his  envoy  most  courteously,  and  said  it  would  be  a  good  match 
tar  their  nieca.  But  the  marriage  was  not  immediately  concluded,  for 
the  damsel  was  young;  added  to  this,  there  shortly  happened  in  Eng^ 
land  great  misery  and  tribulation,"'  by  the  calamitous  insurrection  oi 
Wat  Tyler. 

Ricfaaid  IL  was  the  sole  surviving  oflspring  of  the  gallant  Black  Prince 
and  Joanna  of  Kent  Bom  in  the  luxurious  south,  the  first  aceenu  of 
Richard  of  Bordeaux  were  formed  in  the  poetical  language  of  Provence, 
and  his  infant  tastes  linked  to  music  and  song^— tastes  which  assimilated 
ill  with  the  manners  of  his  own  court  and  people.  His  mother  and 
hal^bffothen,  afler  the  death  of  his  princely  father,  had  brought  up  the 
fiilara  king  of  England  with  the  most  ruinous  personal  indulgence,  and 
nneonstitutional  ideas  of  his  own  in&llibility.  He  had  inherited  more 
of  hii  mother's  levity,  than  his  Other's  strength  of  character;  3ret  the 
domeatic  afiections  of  Richard  were  of  the  most  vivid  and  enduring 
natnra,  eapeeially  towards  the  females  of  his  &mily ;  and  the  state  of 


«r 


AX5e  nr  ■oubmia 


edilwoliiedP' 


diatrrM  and  ti^rror  w  whirh  ho  Mw  hi)  mmher  ndvecil  br  fti 
or  Wai  T)'t(!t'*  nioti,  wai  the  cfaivT  •tunnluit  oT  hi*  |Ubiit  I 
wh«n  thai  teM  f^Il  btneaili  the  swan]  of  WalworUi. 

Wheti  lhe««  troubles  wf  re  >up]inuaMf.  lime  bad  o(i*Mted  ll 
to  the  union  of  Itichard  nni  AnOB.  Tlw  yoan;  prioMM  bad  Wluwd 
hf r  tilWnlh  yrar,  nnd  woi  can«iil>rad  nDal4e  «  giriag  i  iuwhI  cob- 
■•mt  lo  her  own  nmrrio^  ;  aoi!  kfter  tenuing  •  leun  Iq  the  cmnwil  of 
Encland,  Hy:n^,  iiht-  tweame  Ihe  wife  of  thdr  kti^r  with  foil  uhI  &m 
wUl,  •*  she  wi  out,"  MVi  Ffni—rt,  *ia  her  pwilout  joanuy,  kUcnM 
by  ibe  duke  of  Saxoay  anil  hu  (hKhour  who  wu  her  aunt,  aoil  wicb  i 
tuitablc  numh«r  af  knight*  and  ibrMpli.  Thoy  came  Ibruu^h  Bnfaui 
to  BniMrU,  whrnr  ihr  diiko  Wrocotan*  and  hi*  dochMa  reecivai]  Ac 
yoiin|  ijiipun,  and  her  company.  »ery  gfnnilly.  The  lady  Ana*  n 
with  her  undt  and  aunt  laore  ihnn  a  mnnlli;  die  was  afimtd  oTp 
ing,  for  »he  had  been  inronned  there  were  twel»e  lai^e  ■ 
Aill  of  Normani,  on  the  sea  helween  Oilai«  and  Holland,  Lh«t  tBui 
and  pillaged  all  that  fell  in  iheir  haoils,  withoui  any  mipecl  lo  penom. 
The  rrporl  was  current,  that  they  rmited  in  ihtwr  lai*,  awaitiif  tie 
rnming  of  the  king  of  England'*  brtrfr,  hccnaiw  the  kin^  at  Fnanni 
hi*  rouncil  were  very  imeaay  al  Richsnl'*  Genius  alliance,  and  'Ktn 
dotrous  of  breaking  the  rnateh." 

-^  Deuktned  by  these  appitluRnMM,  lk«  liMroib«l  qami  mualM 


AXSE    OF    DOUEUIA.  SOD 

the  water  waa  so  violently  shaken  aiid  troubled,  and  put  in  such  fu- 
is  commotion,  tbai  the  ahip,  in  which  llie  yount;  queen'i  person  waa 
veyed,  was  very  terribly  rent  in  pieces  before  her  very  face,  and  the 

of  the  veseel^  that  rode  in  company  were  tossed  ao  tlial  it  asionied 
seholdera.'* 

i'he  English  parliameoi  was  silting,  when  intelligence  came  that  the 
r'a  bride,  after  all  the  diHiculiies  and  dangers  of  her  progress  from 
giie,  had  safely  arrived  at  Dover,  on  which  it  was  prurognei! ;  but 
.,  funds  were  appointed,  that  with  all  honour  the  bride  might  be  pre- 
ted  U>  the  young  king. 

)o  the  third  day  afler  her  arrival,  the  lady  Anne  set  forth  on  her  pro- 
u  lo  Canterbury,  where  she  waa  met  by  the  king's  uncle  Tltotnas, 
[>  received  her  with  the  utmoat  reverence  and  honour.  When  she 
roached  the  Blackheath,  the  lord  mayor  and  citizens,  in  splendid 
tses,  greeted  her,  and  with  all  the  ladies  and  dtuiiscis,  both  from  Iowa 

country,  joined  her  cavalcade,  making  bo  grand  an  entry  in  London, 
I  lliQ  like  had  scarcely  ever  been  seen.  The  Goldsmiths'  company 
ren  score  of  the  men  of  this  rich  guild)  splendidly  arrayed  themselves 
neet,  ta  ihey  said,  the  "  Cesar's  sister ;''  nor  was  their  munificence 
fined  to  iheir  own  persons ;  they  further  put  themselves  to  the  es- 
se of  sixty  shillings,  for  the  hire  of  seven  minstrels,  with  foil  on  iheir 
s  and  chaperons,  and  expensive  vestures,  to  do  honour  to  the  imperial 
le;  sud  lo  two  shillings  further  expense,  "for  potaHons  for  the  aaid 
ialr«b." '  At  the  upper  end  of  Chepe  was  a  pageant  of  a  caette  with 
ram,  from  two  sides  of  which  ran  fountains  of  wine.  From  these 
ren  beautiful  damsels  blew  in  the  fitccs  of  the  king  and  queen  gold 
*;  (bia  was  thought  a  device  of  eiitreme  elegance  and  ingenuity;  they 
itrbe  threw  counterfeit  gold  florins  before  the  horses'  feel  of  the  royal 

Hjiiie  of  Bohemia  was  married  to  Richard  II.  in  the  chapel-royal  of 

palace  of  Westminster,  the  newly  erected  structure  of  St.  Stephen. 
Ill  the  wedding-day,  which  was  the  twentieth  aAer  Christmas,  thera 
K,"  aays  Froissarl, ''  mighty  feasiings.   That  gallant  and  noble  knight, 

Robert  Namur,  accompanied  the  queen,  from  llie  lime  when  she 
tted  Fragile,  till  she  was  married.  Tlie  king  at  the  end  of  the  week 
ried  bia  queen  to  Windsor,  where  he  kept  open  and  royal  house. 
ey  were  very  happy  together.  She  was  accompanied  by  llie  king's 
ther,  the  princess  of  Wales,  and  her  daughter,  the  duchess  of  Bre- 
ne,  half-sister  to  king  Richard,  who  was  then  in  England,  soliciting 

the  restitution  of  the  earldom  of  Richmond,  which  hod  been  taken 
in  her  husband  by  the  English  regency,  and  settled  in  part  of  dower 

queen  Anne.  Some  days  ai\er  the  marriage  of  the  loyal  pair,  they 
nmetl  to  London,  and  the  coronation  of  the  queen  waa  performed 
M  magnilicenily.  At  the  young  queen's  earnest  request,  a  general 
■don  was  granted  by  the  king,  at  her  consecration."'  The  stHicied 
>p]e  Blood  in  need  of  this  respite,  as  the  executions,  since  Tyler's  in- 
Tvclion,  bad  been  bloody  and  barbarous  beyond  all  precedent.    Tba 

•Tyrrell.  Waliinsham.  E^roai. 


Aff  ANNR    OP    BoneviA. 

land  was  reeking  with  ilie  blood  oT  ilie  unhappy  peamntiy,  whm  Iht 
humane  inierceKMon  uf  the  gentle  Anne  of  Bohemia  put  a  alop  to  ih* 


This  mediation  obtained  for  Bichani's  bride  the  title  of  "  the  fomf 
queen  Anne ;"  and  years,  instead  of  impairing  the  popularity,  niiiialfy  w 
evanescent  in  England,  only  increased  the  ealeem  fell  by  ber  aubjectt  for 
this  beneliceni  princess. 

Grand  louruamenis  were  held  directly  afler  the  coronation.  MmT 
dayt  were  spent  in  these  solemnities,  wherein  the  German  nobles,  whc 
ha<l  accompanied  the  queen  lo  England,  displayed  their  ctiivmlry  to  thf 
great  delight  of  the  English.  Our  chroniclers  call  Anne  of  BohmiL 
«  the  beauteous  queen."  At  fifteen  or  sixteen,  a  blooming  Oenmui  pH 
is  a  very  pleasing  object ;  but  her  beauty  must  have  been  limited  to 
stature  and  complexion,  for  the  features  of  her  staiire  are  homely  tod 
ondigniSed.  A  narrow,  high-pointed  forehead,  a  Imig  upper  lip,  cheelt, 
whose  fulness  increased  towards  the  lower  part  of  the  fa(«,  ean  scairdf 
entitle  her  to  claim  a  reputation  for  beauty.  Bui  the  hrad-drm  drt 
wore  must  have  neutralized  the  defects  of  her  Cice  in  some  degrM,  by 
giving  an  appearance  of  breadth  lo  her  narrow  forehead.  This  was  tt\t 
homed  cap  which  constituted  the  head-gear  of  the  ladies  of  Bithmni 
and  Hungary ;  and  in  iliis  "  moony  tire"  did  the  bride  of  Kiehard  jn- 
sent  herself  to  the  astonished  eyes  of  her  female  subjecu.' 

Queen  Anne  made  some  alonement  for  being  the  importer  of  tto( 
hideous  fashions,  by  introducing  the  use  of  pins,  such  as  are  used  at  Mr 
present  toilets.  Our  chroniclers  declare,  that,  previously  to  her  anini 
in  England,  the  English  liiir  laatened  their  rob«  with  skewnv ;  a  gnat 
misrepresentation,  for,  even  ns  early  as  the  Roman  empire,  (he  OM  rf 
pins  was  known;  and  British  barrows  have  been  opened,  wberviB  wot 
found  numbers  of  very  neat  and  efficient  little  ivory  pins,  whicli  M 
been  used  in  arranging  the  grave-clothes  of  the  dead ; 
irreverent  chroniclers  suppose  that  English  ladies  used  W' 
for  their  robes  in  the  fourteenth  century  ? 

Side-saddles  were  the  third  new  fashion,  brought  into  Et^fcuirf  liy 
Anne  of  Bohemia :  they  were  different  from  those  used  at  pM^ent.  whict 
were  invented,  or  first  adopted,  by  Catherine  tie  Medicis,  qoecii  o(  Fault. 
The  side-saddle  of  Anne  of  Bohemia  was  like  a  bench  with  ■  bai^iaf 
step,  where  both  feet  were  placed.  This  mode  of  rtdiov 
fooinian  or  squire  at  the  bridle-rein  of  the  lady's  pelftey,  and 
Dsed  in  processions. 

According  to  the  fashion  of  the  age,  the  young  queen  hd  a  6enrt, 

'Tliia  cap  wii  nl  least  two  Teei  in  beigbl,  and  as  inMn]r  in  width;  \»  HA 
wsa  buill  or  vire  and  p«iielHBrd,  like  s  very  wide-spreading  aum,  mi  aM 
these  hom>  was  extended  w>nie  fUttenng  listue  oi  gKiue.  Mi  in  win—  mat  M 
rageoua  were  the  horned  rap>  Ibal  mued  their  heads  in  EngUad,  dnaMlf  ^ 
roful  ijride  appeued  in  one ;  tliSM  rormidable  novellies  eipuMUd  ibali  vh^ 
un  ever;  aide,  till  mt  church  or  proceMioa  ihs  lilminuhsd  bead*  of  brJi  iM 
kniKliti  were  eoJipwd  by  their  ambiijoiu  parmen.  The  chunih  4aelan4  Aif 
wcr«  "the  moony  tiio,"  deooiuiced  by  Eieklel ;  likaty  entnii^  fix  tb«f  tadteM 
itmauceJ  by  Bohemian  craMLden  tion  ^-jnii.  "  ' 


ANKE    OF    BOasHtA.  211 

wbith  sll  herknighls  weie  especli^d  lo  wear  at  tournamenU;  but  her 
device  was,  vre  liiink,  a  very  stupid  one,  being  an  ostrich,  wilh  a  bit  of 
iroa  in  hit  moulh.' 

Al  ilie  celebration  of  the  featival  of  ihe  Order  v(  the  Garter,  1384, 
quern  Anne  wore  a  robe  of  rinlet  cloih  dyed  in  grain,  the  hood  lined 
with  scarlet,  liie  robe  lined  wilh  fur.  She  was  attended  by  a  number  of 
noble  lailics,  who  are  mentioned  "  as  newly  received  into  the  Society  of 
iJie  Garter."  They  were  habited  in  the  same  costume  as  iheir  young 
queen.' 

The  royal  spouse  of  Anne  was  remarkable  for  the  foppery  of  his 
dre«a ;  he  had  one  coal  estimated  at  thirty  thousand  marks.  Its  chief 
T«lae  must  ha*e  ariten  tram  the  precious  stones  wilh  which  it  wm 
idomMl.     This  was  called  apparel  "bmidered  of  stone.'" 

Nol withstanding  the  great  accession  of  luxury  that  followed  this  mar- 
ringv,  ilie  daughter  of  the  Ctesars,  (as  Richard  proudly  called  his  bride,) 
Bot  <>nlv  came  porlionlesa  lo  the  English  throne  mairimoniaJ,  but  her 
bvsbanJ  liad  to  pay  a  very  handsome  aum  for  the  honour  of  calling  her 
hi*  ctwR  :  he  paid  to  her  brother  10,000  marks,  for  the  imperial  alliance, 
besidei  being  al  the  whole  charge  of  her  journey.  The  jewels  of  the 
dnchy  of  Aquiiaine,  the  floriated  coronet,  and  many  broochea  in  Iho 
form  of  otiitnals,  were  pawned  to  the  Londoners,  in  order  lo  raiae  money 
for  the  expenMS  of  the  bridal. 

To  Anne  of  Bohemia  is  aiirihuled  Lhe  honour  of  being  the  first,  in 
thai  itlusirious  band  of  princesses,  who  were  lhe  nursing  moilicrv  of 
thr.  Keformalion.*  The  Proiesiani  church  inscribes  her  name  at  the 
roniDiRncrmeni  of  the  illustrious  list  in  which  are  seen  ihos?  of  Anne 
BolevR,  Katharine  Parr,  lady  Jane  Grey,  nnd  tiueen  Elisabeth.  Whether 
lJi«  young  queen  brought  those  principles  wiih  her,  or  imbibed  them 
froai  her  mother-in-law,  the  princess  of  Wales,  it  is  not  easy  to  ascei^ 
tun.  A  poiMge  quoted  by  Huss,  lhe  Bohemian  reformer,  leads  to  the 
infervnce  that  Anne  was  used  to  read  lhe  Scriptures  in  her  native  tongue. 
••  It  is  possible,"  says  WickliiTo,  in  his  work  called  the  '  Threefold  Bond 
«f  Lo»e,' "  ihot  our  noble  queen  of  England,  sisier  of  the  Oesar,  may  have 

■CWnulifi'a  R«iiiuna.  It  i*  poieibie  Ihni  tills  wa*  not  a  deTice,  bu)  an  orroiv 
lia)  bvaiing,  and  had  wiine  connriion  with  tlie  oalrjch  plume  the  Blnck  Priac« 
■oak  tiara  bcc  K'^ndlkihcr  at  Crettf .  The  dukei  of  Aiuiria  are  perp«luall)r 
oalint  ilulteri  o(  OttrirK  by  lhe  Eiiglisb  vriten,  wt  late  as  Spetul.  Baa  thii  tem 
•Miy  pnnniog  Kmoeiinn  Wiiii  lliii  device  and  lhe  Bobeminn  croM  of  Mlrjoh 
AalliBtaT  'See  air  Uarrla  Nicolu,  Hislory  of  lhe  Order  of  Ihe  Garter. 

'Id  thii  reign  Ihe  aboea  were  worn  with  pointed  lOra  of  aa  absurd  and  incon- 
iHilant  lengili.  Camdpn  t^uulc*  an  amusinft  paavage  ttnm  a  quaint  work,  frall- 
tM  Kulngitnn  on  iha  ExiravHftance  of  llie  Fuhions  of  this  Reign.  "Their 
tbon  and  paneoi  are  anowied  and  piked  up  more  ihan  a  flnget  Ions,  which 
Ihey  oill  Cravcywei.  leicmbliiig  ihe  deviKa  olawa,  which  wern  foileited  tt»  dia 
kneoi  wilh  chains  of  gold  and  lilvcr,  and  ihtu  weietkqr  pumenled  which  wets 
Ijrnia  in  Ih*  hall,  and  Laiea  in  ihe  fleld." 

•Tot  thB  manjrrelogiat  deolaiea^thal  lhe  Bohemiani  who  attended  quern  Aniie 
fim  inlroiluFcd  the  worka  of  Wickliffe  lo  John  Hiiaa ;  oouni  Vsleriaji  Knainaki, 
la  bi>  mmil  valuable  bivlnry  of  lhe  BerormalioD  in  Poland,  conflmu  ihia  Bl■e^. 
lim  flrom  ilw  records  of  hia  cuuDirjr. 


I 


I 


I 


i  ANNEOFBOIIEMIA. 

the  gospel  written  in  three  languagi^s,  Bohemian,  Gemmn,  un)  Lltift: 
now,  to  hertiicale  her  (brand  lier  with  heresy)  on  that  nccoimt,  wgoU 
be  LuciTerian  folly-"  The  influence  of  queen  Antic  o?er  the  mtmlii 
her  young  husband  was  certainly  employed  by  Joanna,  princeM  of  WtU*,' 
to  aid  her  in  Eaving  the  life  of  WicklilTe,  when  in  greU  danger  il  At 
council  of  Larabelh,  in  I3S2.* 

Joanna,  princets  of  Wales,  was  a  convert  of  Wicklifle,  who  b>d  bxt 
introduced  to  her  by  his  patron,  the  duhe  of  Lancaster.  Josnna,  «did 
by  her  daughleHn-Iaw,  swayed  the  ductile  miud  of  king  Richard  W 
their  wishes.' 

Soon  aAer,  the  queen  was  separated  from  her  buaband  by  a  war  JB 
Scotland.  The  most  remarkable  incident  of  hia  campaign  w^  lb«  m» 
der  of  Lord  Stafford,  by  the  king^s  half-brother,  John  HtdLuid.  3» 
louny  of  the  queen^s  fafour,  and  malice  against  her  adherents,  ^>peH  it 
be  the  secret  motives  of  this  deed.  StatiTurd  was  a  peerlna  chrnlitr, 
adoied  by  the  English  amiy,  anil,  for  his  virtuous  conilnct,  b  bi^ 
bvour  with  Anne  of  Bohemia,  who  called  him  "  her  knight ;"  aad  W 
was  actually  on  his  way  to  London,  with  messages  from  tlie  king  la  At 
queen,  when  this  fatal  encounter  took  place.*  The  ostensible  oaaaa  cf 
the  murder  likewise  waa  connected  with  the  queen ;  as  we  lam  btm 
Froissarl,  that  the  archers  of  lord  Slafibtd,  when  protecting  sir  Me)e%l 
Bohemian  knight  then  with  the  army,  who  was  a  friend  of  queen  Abm 
slew  a  favourite  squire  belonging  to  sir  John  Holland ;  and  lo  nveagia 
punishment  which  this  man  had  brought  upon  himself,  sir  John  rat  M 
StafTord  down,  without  any  personal  provocation.  The  grief  of  th*  mI 
of  Stafford,  his  entreaties  for  justice  on  the  murderer  of  bb  •a«,«ii 
above  all,  the  atrocious  circumstances  of  the  case,  wrought  on 
lUchard  to  vow  that  an  exeiuplary  act  of  justice  should 
on  John  Holland,  (brother  though  he  might  be,)  as  soon  « 
from  the  shrine  of  St.  John  of  Beverley,  whither  this  homiciile  hml  hi 
for  SBUctuBiy.  In  vain  Joanna,  princess  of  Wales,  the  muiual  nMXbtr  tf 
the  king  and  murderer,  pleaded  with  Richard,  after  his  reinni  fnm  Sect* 

'That  Anne'B  mollicr-in-teH'  was  Ilie  active  proleciiess  of  WickJiib  u  (fifv 
rent  fiom  Dt.  Liiigaid'e  words,  vol.  iv.  p.  iS9.  '-  Some  mid  ibot  Ilia  isq  ttiir^r 
were  intuniduleil,  hf  n  nie»aGe  from  the  priacesi  of  Walei;  by  Wii'Utda  kii^ 
telt,  Ilia  escape  wtu  coaBideied  and  oelebrated  as  a  uiuDipb.'*  Mode>»  wtMi 
have  uiuallr  airributed  Ihii  gnod  deed  to  Anne,  bai  ahe  vaa  ln>  jtMUgMli 
more  tlian  follow  the  lend  of  her  motber^D-law.  From  WalMttilicm,  n  M 
thu  wveral  kaigbta  of  the  bousebold  were  accused  or  LollBtdutn ;  ftoa  lai^M 
■uthoriijps,  we  find  >ir  Simon  Burtej,  tir  Lewis  CliBbrd,  and  sir  Jaha  QM^rfa 
were  more  or  les»  accused  u  disciplei  of  the  new  doctrine. 

■WickliOe  died  in  his  bed,  at  Lullcrwonli,  ia  I3S4,  <»»i  when  daifctt  d^ 
KiDse  Rfterihe  i3eaih  of  this  beneficeat  queen,  persBCnlion  Ibund  oougbl  taveatlt 
■pile  apon  eicepdng  the  insensible  bones  of  the  ■-  evil  panoo  of  Lxlawutfc' 
as  he  was  calUil,  when  his  remains  were  eihomed  and  ost  iulu  Iha  hot 
Wbicb  Tons  near  his  rjllage;  but  if  Wicklifie  had  IJred  in  ih>rw  daft  tie  atf 
Dm  bare  etcnped  being  called  a  papist,  for  he  wu  actuallj-  atiiKk  bt  daulL  i* 
the  B?|  of  eelebialing  the  mass,  al  the  ajur  of  his  Tillage  ebsichi  tt^iAM 
while  living  lie  was  never  cut  oS  fiom  the  Oommnnioa  of  ihe  oJmIcIi  bI  l^M 

•Life  of  WiekMe, BtognL. Biii.  -  -       - 


ought  aa  Vm 
1  Im  petfixwi 
as  he  naanl 


AHNB    op    BOtlEUIA.  2lW 

UbA,  that  the  life  of  ajr  John  mii^ht  he  sptired.  .Afler  four  daya'  ince»- 
•tnl  ttunpntaiinn.  the  king''t>  mmher  di^d  on  ihe  tifih  day,  at  ilic  royal 
orUe  of  Walliiigfiml.  Hirhanl's  nurolution  lailpd  him  at  ihia  caiaBlro- 
^«i  aildf  when  loo  lute  lo  save  his  nmlher,  he  pardoned  ihe  criiuino], 
Th«  aggTJev^  ^none,  in  this  unhappy  aiJventure,  were  the  friends  of 
Ar  quern,  btii  there  is  no  evidence  that  she  excited  her  hueband's  wrailL* 
Thd  homicide  who  had  ocMsjoned  so  much  trouble  departed,  on  an 
Btonme  pilsrtmage,  to  Syria.  Ke  was  absent  from  England  during  the 
Ufe  of  t[uc:eii  Anne,  and  happy  would  it  have  been  for  his  brother  if  h« 
bad  never  returned. 

Anne  of  Bohemia,  unlike  Isabella  of  France,  who  was  always  at  waf 
with  her  husband's  favonriies  and  friends,  made  it  a  rule  of  hie  lo  low 
all  that  ilie  king  loved,  and  to  consider  a  sedulous  compliance  with  hi§ 
will  as  h«r  first  duty.  In  one  instance  alone  did  this  pliancy  of  temper 
lead  h«r  into  ilie  viokiinn  of  justice ;  litis  was  in  ihe  case  of  the  repu- 
MMuitm  of  the  countess  of  Oxford. 

HM||'iTheTe  were  great  munnurings  against  ihe  duke  of  Ireland,"  sayi 

^PNMbnrt;  "but  what  injured  him  moat  was  his  conduct  lo  his  ducheas, 

Ptt»<hdy  Philippd.  daughter  of  the  lord  de  Courcy,  a  handsome  and  nobitt 

*-'tiitf>     Foi  the  duke  was  greatly  enamoured  with  one  of  ihe  ((ueen'l' 

'  ,  JMHch,  called  the  landgravine.'    She  was  a  tnleiably  hatidsonie,  plea- 

'    mmt  hdy,  whom  queen  Anne  had  brought  with  her  from  Bohemia.   The 

duke  ai  Irvlaud  loverf  her  with  such  ardour,  that  he  was  desirous  of 

iHkbtg  hn,  if  possible,  his  duchess  by  marriage.     All  the  good  people 

of  England  were  mtich  shocked  ai  this,  for  his  lawful  wife  was  grand- 

dmghtcT  lo  the  gallant  king  Edward  ajtd  the  excellent  queen  Philippa, 

baing  the  daughter  of  the  princess  Isabella.     Her  uncles,  ihe  dukes  of 

OlaacwMir  and  York,  were  very  wroih  al  this  insult." 

The  linl  and  lost  error  of  Anne  of  Bohemia  was  the  participation  to 
tU*  disigTaceful  transaction,  by  which  she  was  degraded  in  the  eyes  of 
fobjecls  who  had  warmly  admired  her  meek  virtues.  The  ofleiisive  part 
takca  by  Llie  (]Deen  in  tliis  iransactiuri  was,  thai  she  acRially  wrote  witb 
her  owo  hand,  an  urgent  letter  lo  pope  Urban,  persuading  hiro  to  sane- 
don  llie  divorce  of  the  counters  of  Oxford,  and  lo  aulhorire  ihe  marriage 
of  her  fiiithtpBs  lord  with  the  bndgravine.  Whether  the  maid  of  honouf 
wetv  a  prinress  or  a  peasant,  she  had  no  right  to  appropriate  another 
wonuuiS  husband.  The  i^ueen  was  scarcely  less  culpable  iu  aidijig  aud 
■betting  so  nefarious  a  measure,  lo  the  inGoile  injury  of  herself,  and  of 
Ac  coiison  ahe  so  lenderly  loved. 
There  was  scarcely  an  earl  in  England  who  ww  not  related  to  ibe 

•rf>^l  nan. 

■PmUHiii  (lire*  this  lii|;li  >iile  to  this  maid  orlionoar,  whil9  lbs  English  ehiooi- 
dB>i  bimiid  bet  wltb  bw  bJnli,  Th*  Fccdcra  at  oaet  pnu  an  and  «r  Uieie  di» 
pBi**   lif  iiutiinc  b«r  tlie   landgratina  or  bindgmvine  or  LuieuilKiurg,  which 

ilii.-a-t  I.I  '  I'iiir  ilini  'lin  WBi  nobli>,  bui  nllipd  lo  ibc  JmperiBl  fumily  'nmlT.    The 

..  1  IU  Uii«  lan^gTOiruia,  U>  eoinp  lo  England  with  all  batj 
r,  ,  rM  vafuiil]l<>(  trni  by  tlie  iiiii|in-H  Hit  tlie  una  Of  bigj 
">i  bavini;  appoltiTed  lb»  taarfgrardia,  hpr  ilaui^w 


•  royal 


ANNB    OF    BOHEMIA 


I 


I 


I 


ro}fil  hmilv',  the  queen,  by  the  part  she  took  in  ttiis  divprscefid  afit^ 
a(fenile<t  every  one  allied  lo  ihe  royal  houst  of  Planla^ncL' 

The  siornt  fell  in  iia  fury  oa  the  head  of  the  anfortuaale  «ir  Siaa 
Burley,  ilie  same  knight  whom  we  have  seen  niak«  two  jonrneyi  to 
Prague,  in  solemn  embassy,  reganJing  the  queen's  ma^riaga.  This  n- 
foriunate  knight,  who  was  the  most  occomplisbeiJ  man  of  hi*  »ft,  toA 
iieen  foreiloiimed  by  his  persecutors.  The  earl  of  Aniadrl  hiul  pR- 
riously  expressed  an  opinion  to  king  Richard,  that  sir  Simon  <]«  &ui^ 
deserved  death. 

"  Didst  thou  not  oay  to  me  in  the  lime  nf  thi/  parliament,  when  w 
were  in  the  baih  Ijeliind  the  white-hal),  that  sir  Simon  Je  BurieT  it- 
served  to  be  put  to  death  on  several  accounts  I  And  did  uoi  1  o^ 
anawer, '  I  know  no  reason  why  he  should  suffer  death  ?'  and,  yet  ym 
and  your  companions  traitorously  look  his  life  from  him !''  Such  m 
(he  accusation  hy  king  Richard,  when  Arundel  stood  on  his  trial,  la  p^ 
tbe  bitter  debt  of  vengeance  that  Richard  had  noted  against  him,  as  tht 
cause  of  his  tutor's  death. 

The  death  of  sir  Simon  Burley  was  a  bitter  sorrow  to  tlie  queen,  ^ 
haps  her  first  sorrow ;  and  as  it  appears  that  the  expenses  of  her  Joonif 
from  Germany  being  lefl  unpaid  by  the  government,  during  Uie  ki^^ 
minority,  ultimately  led  to  the  disgrace  of  her  friend,  liie  ijueen  DIM 
have  considered  herself  as  the  innocent  cause  of  his  death. 

While  the  executions  of  sir  Simon  Burley  and  many  o^un  ti  it 
king's  adherents  were  proceeding  in  London,  Richard  and  bis  ^MM 
retired  lo  Bristol,  and  fixed  their  residence  in  the  castle. 

A  civil  war  commenced  which  terminated  in  the  defect  of  tba  lopl 
troops  at  Radcol  Bridge,  near  Oxford,  by  the  duke  of  Glooeeder,  ut 
young  Henry  of  Bolingbroke.  It  was  the  queen's  mediation  alanc  iktf 
could  induce  Richard  to  receive  the  archbishop  of  CanterburyT  wtmbf 
came  to  propose  an  amnesty  between  the  king  and  his  sDbJ«ciB;  t«a 
days  and  nights  did  Richard  remain  inflexible,  till  at  last,  of  the  f^ 
suasion  of  Anne,  the  archbishop  was  admitted  lo  the  royal  pmMtt. 
"  Many  plans,"  says  Froissart,  "  were  proposed  to  the  king  j  at  latt  hr 
the  good  advice  of  the  queen,  he  restrained  bis  choler,  and  iciw4  H 
accompany  llie  archbishop  to  London."  Ailer  the  queen  i«iiia^  ID 
London  from  Bristol,  the  proceedings  of  that  parliament  eornvMCi'i 
which  has  been  justly  termed  by  history,  the  Merciless.  The  niiH*! 
servanifl  were  the  principal  objects  of  its  vengeance,  the  Imdencf  ■> 
Lollardism  in  her  household  being  probably  the  secret  rooliTe.  h  Ml 
in  vain  that  the  queen  of  England  humbled  herself  to  the  TajdlUt|)> 
hopes  of  saving  her  ^ihful  friends. 

King  Richard  in  an  especial  manner  instanced  the  undutifaioMi  of  Ik* 
earl  of  Arundel  to  the  queen.'  who,  he  declared,  ^  was  thres  booB  * 
ner  knees  before  this  earl,  pleading  with  tesni  for  the  life  of  JobaO^ 
Terley,  one  of  het  esquires."     All  the  answer  she  could  get  wu  iB^ 

'  After  all,  iha  divorce  wsa  not  carried  iiiLo  eSecl,  (at.  in  tbw  yew  IMt,  tt^ 
Ua  letter  of  ate-aoadact,  trom  kiog  Ritlmjil  lo  bis  deacpii  coutin  Philjjqa.  «l^ 
ID  Bobert  de  Teia.  *At  the  nial  oT  ' 


AH  HE    OP     BOHEMIA.  3Ifl 

"P«y  ftir  yootwlf  and  your  husband,  for  that  ii  ihe  besl  thing  yon  can 
do,  Mid  ]m  iliii)  request  alone,"  and  all  ihe  iinpoiiunilies  naeil  could  nol 
MTV  Calveilry'slife.'  Indeed,  Ihe  duke  of  Gloureeier  and  bin  collMguei 
cstablishitd  n  reii^  of  terror,  making  it  penal  For  any  pereon  (o  tealiiy 
fidelity  III  (he  kiiiff  or  queen,  or  to  receive  their  confidence, 

The  duke  ol'  Ireland  lied  to  ilic  Low  Countries,  from  whence  he  never 
rrtunied  during  his  life.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  niece*  of  his 
ill-treaied  wife,  for  whose  divorce  Anne  of  Bohemia  had  intri^ed  with 
pope  Urban,  married  llie  great  and  (towerful  emperor  Sigivniund,  own 
Mother  to  that  queen. 

Tlie  intermediate  time,  from  the  autumn  of  1387  to  the  spring  of 
1988,  waa  spent  by  the  young  king  and  queen  in  a  species  of  restraiitt. 
Btliain  and  Sliene  were  Ihe  favourite  residences  of  Kichard  and  Ann% 
aud  ill  tlteae  palaces  they  chieQy  sojourned  at  tliia  lime.  The  favouriM 
■uintner  palace  of  Anne  wua  named,  from  the  lovely  landscape  arouiid 
it,  Sbene  :  tradition  aays  that  Edward  the  Confessor,  delighting  in  tilt 
(uf  KCiincry,  culled  it  by  thai  expressive  Saxon  word,  signifying  eretf 
Ibing  that  is  bright  and  beauteous. 

The  king  had,  during  this  interval,  attained  his  twenty-second  yeai^ 
and  his  firbl  question,  on  the  meeting  of  his  parliament,  was,  "  Itow  olil 
be  was  ?" 

And  when  they  named  the  years  he  had  attained,  he  declared  thai  his 
Wic^siors  were  always  considered  of  age  much  earlier,  and  lliat  iba 
Mwauest  of  his  subjects  were  of  age  at  twenty-one ;  he  therefoie  deteiw 
minml  to  shake  off  the  fetters  that  controlled  him.  This  scene  waa  {(A- 
lowed  by  a  sort  of  re-«oronation  in  St.  Stephen's  chapel,  where  tht 
Bobiliiy  renewed  their  oaths  to  him ;  and  il  was  particularly  observed 
thai  he  kissed  those  with  afeciion  whom  he  considered  as  hia  adheretiM, 
and  M-ciw|ed  on  those  who  had  been  die  leaders  in  the  late  insurrections. 

The  king  always  appears  to  have  been  exceedingly  ailarhed  to  his 
■acl«,  tlie  duke  of- Lancasieri  but  he  had  a  strong  wish  to  rid  hiinsetT 
of  hia  turbulent  and  popular  cousin,  Henry,  the  eldest  son  of  llial  duke, 
who  wa*  bom  the  same  year  aa  himself,  and  from  infancy  was  his  rival. 
On  one  occasion  Henry  had  threatened  the  life  of  tlie  king  in  the  presence 
of  the  quncn. 

-  Tlince  have  I  saved  hia  life !"  exclaimed  king  Richard.     "  Once  mg 
dexr  uncle  Lancaster  (on  whom  God  have  mercy)  would  have  slain  hiB  I 
for  bis  treason  and  villany,  and  then,  0  God  of  Paradise  .'  all  night  didl  | 
ri-i*  to  preserve  him  from  death,     Once  also  Ue  drew  his  sword 
I  <  the  rhamher  of  queen  Anne."' 


I 
I 


'linls,  vol.  f. 

the  daughiei  of  li< 
r  Kingi,  nnil  Bellia 


by  iha  count  da  Cittny.     See  i 

tHMtryofBalingbr 
...  .  _     ...  -.ii)|imna,  in  oruef  m  cmtrj  a 

iho  boriliiis  of  Lithuania,  with  wliod 


■  cruMilo  tt-orfliro.     (Speed.) 
whptn  iha  Engliih  |irini:e  ci 


1  the  year  1300.  nnc 

England,  in  order  to  carry ... 

whom  the  1^ 

Valerian  Knuine 
ipnl  in  Litbuani 


Ha 


ANN  E    I 


oncH)  A. 


Kiag  Ilich*rd  soon  nhet  be^ioiTnl  on  the  dnke  uf  Itinwlnr  dw  Mf» 
reignty  oT  Aquilaine.  probably  with  Uie  desi^  ofkeepinif  lluMa  of  te 
pnnee  al  a  (liBtaare  from  Eii^Uiiii.  Tlie  queen  held  a  grand  iMinlM 
(his  oriiininn.  Prtrt  nf  ibe  liicli  crrenioiiial  consUW  in  tbr  qsMo^  ]>» 
UDlaiion  '>r  ihe  duchess  of  lAtiosicr  wiih  tlie  e^nU]  cirrlet  stir  *m1* 
wear  as  iluchcM  of  Aquiuiue.  wlule  Richard  iiivevtcd  hu  i  nrii  wiik  At 
dual  coronet^  bul  ihe  iovesijlure  was  useless,  for  the  [i«i>]4e  of  \f^ 
toine  refused  Ui  be  lepsnied  froui  tlie  duiuiiiiou  of  England. 

The  king's  full  astniraption  of  the  royal  authority  wu  ecUboiad  wtt 
a  splendid  i4>umamciiL  over  whirh  qii^en  Anne  presideiL  M  ths  ant- 
Riga  lady,  to  beotow  the  prize — a  rich  jnwelM  clanp — in  ibe  ksM  MM 
of  the  lists,  and  a  rich  crown  of  enid  to  the  besiof  ihc!  oppotMMs.  San 
of  her  Indies,  mounted  on  beoiiCtful  palfreys,  eturh  led  a  knight,  Wa 
chain,  to  the  lilting  ground  at  Smithtirld.  thmiigti  the  streets  " 
by  the  sound  of  trumpets,  attended  by  numerous  mtftstrda.  In  to 
onler  they  paeeed  before  qiieen  Anne,  who  was  already  «ni*ed  wilk  ha 
ladies,  and  placed  in  open  rhambere,"  richly  decoratnj.  1^  t/am 
retired,  at  dusk,  lo  the  bishop  of  London's  palace  al  St.  PaatV  vAm 
shs  held  a  grand  banquet,  with  dstu-ing  both  before  and  &As-avffK 
During  the  whole  of  the  totinioDiem  the  queen  lodged  at  the  palMad 
the  bisbop  of  London.' 

The  queen's  good  offices  as  a  mediaior  were  rei]mrad  in  dM  jnv 
1382,  to  compose  a  serious  dilTtrence  between  Richard  II.  and  dit  dv 
of  London.  Richard  had  asked  a  loan  of  a  tliounnd  pnon^  froatts 
nliiens,  which  ifaey  peremptorily  refused.  Au  Italian  inetehMtt  pfcal 
die  king  the  sum  required,  upon  which  [h«  citizens  raii«t)  a  tmaolLi^ 
tore  the  unfortunate  loan-lender  lo  piscee.  This  oninge  being  MImmI 
bj^  a  rioi.  attended  with  bloodshed.  Kichard  ileclanid  ■*  tliai  as  the  on 
did  not  keep  his  peace,  be  should  resume  her  chnrlvrs,'*  and  anaiB" 
removed  liie  courts  of  law  to  York-  In  distress.  Ihe  city  afipM  b> 
queen  Anne  lo  mediate  for  them.  Fortunately.  Ricband  had  tiit  «ke 
bvourite  at  tlial  lime  than  his  peace-loving  queen,  "  who  was."  «« tt 
aooieiil  historians,  »  very  precious  to  the  nation,  being  cuntinaally  taf 
some  eood  lo  the  people ;  and  site  deserved  a  ranch  larger  dowar  llMa 
the  sum  sellled  on  her.  which  only  amounted  to  fonr 
hundred  pounds  per  annum." 

The  manner  in  which  queen  Anne  pacified  Riclmrd.  is 
Latin  chronicle  poem,  wniien  by  Richard  .Mayde^too,  an 
the  scene;'  he  was  a  pnesl  aiiached  to  the  court,  and  in  &iw«r  «<& 
Richard  and  the  queen. 

Throui;h  the  private  inierresston  of  the  queen,  the  kit^  eoaHHoiii 
pass  ihrongh  ihe  ciiy,  on  his  way  from  SKeiie  to  VVestminsicr  Palae^  ■ 
t]ic29th  of  AngusL 

'Tl«]r  wow  tEmpoiary  Muutg  erncieil  al  SmiikflK) 
«a  neiiiK  ommn  in  ihe  present  timn,        'tHW  cal.  J< 
*Laul]r  irablulied  by  itie  Csmilea  Swicij.     Hajpdi 
Innnl   liy  u  Mm  ftiiin  RichanL  in  ihe   FiBdeta.  v 
(Cimiicil«<l  W  iiie  cniteiu  (hroiiBh  iho  meilikuouof 


ANHB    or    DOIICMIA,  SIT 

•When  they  ftrtived  al  Souihwark  ihe  qtieen  assumed  her  crown, 
which  »he  wore  tluting  ihe  whole  procesBion  ihrougli  London :  it  was 
bbziiig  with  various  gems  of  Ihe  choicest  kinds;  her  dress  vim  likewi»e 
ttuilded  with  precious  stones,  and  she  wore  a  rich  carconet  about  hor 
tiwk;  she  appeared  —  according  to  the  taste  of  Maydeston — 'fairest 
among  the  lair,'  and  from  the  lienign  humility  of  her  gracious  counie- 
Oanre,  the  anxious  citizens  gathered  hopes  that  she  would  succeed  in 
pBcifiing  the  king.  During  Ihe  entry  of  the  royal  pair  into  iha  city, 
ihey  rode  al  some  disiance  from  eacli  otlier.  At  the  tir^l  bridge-lower 
Ihe  lung  and  queeu  were  met  by  the  lord  mayor  and  other  auiliorities, 
followed  by  a  vast  concourse  of  men,  women,  and  cbildren,  every  arii- 
fic«r  bearing  some  symbol  of  hia  crafL  Before  the  Sou thwark- bridge 
gale  llic  king  was  presented  wiih  a  pair  of  fair  white  steeds,  trapped 
with  gold  cloih,  figured  with  red  and  white,  and  hung  full  of  silver  bellai 
■Steeds  such  is  Ctesar  might  have  been  pleased  to  yoke  to  his  car.'  " 

Quren  Anne  then  arrived  with  her  train,  when  the  lord  mayor  Venner 
preeenled  her  with  a  small  white  palfrey,  exqnisiiely  trained,  far  her 
omt  riding.  The  lord  mayor  commenced  a  long  speech  with  these 
Words  : 

"O  genorons  oSpring  of  imperial  blood,  whom  God  hath  destined 
worthily  to  sway  the  sceptre  as  consort  of  our  king .'" 

lie  then  proceeds  to  hint  ihat  mercy  and  not  rigour  best  became  iha 
qorenly  station,  and  that  gende  ladies  had  great  influence  with  their 
loving  lords;  tlien  entering  into  the  meriis  of  the  palfrev,  he  com> 
mended  iis  beauty,  its  docility,  and  the  convenience  of  iia  ambling  pnces, 
hkI  the  magnificence  of  iis  purple  housings.  Afier  the  animal  had  Iwen 
gndonsly  accepted  by  the  queen,  she  passed  over  the  bridge  and  cantA 
U>  ibe  bridge-portal  on  the  city  side :  but  some  of  her  maids  of  honour, 
who  were  following  her,  in  two  wagons,  or  cbarretiea,'  were  not  quite 
■0  (nrtunnle  in  tlieir  progress  over  the  bridge. 

Old  London  Bridge  was,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  and  for  some  ages 
•Tier,  no  such  easy  defile  for  a  large  inHux  of  people  to  pass  through : 
ibtKiffh  no[  dien  encroached  upon  by  houses  and  shops,  u  was  encum- 
bered by  for tilicai ions  and  barricades,  which  guarded  the  draw-bridge 
lowers  in  the  centre,  and  the  bridgp-gaie  towers  at  each  end.  In  thif  ] 
tniiancc  the  multitudes  pouring  out  of  the  city,  to  get  n  view  of  ihB  j 

3ueen  and  her  train,  meeting  the  crowds  following  the  royal  prncotsion,  | 
le  throngs  pressed  on  eacli  other  su  tumulluously,  that  one  of  tlie  cliaT>  | 
Totles  containing  the  queen's  ladies  was  overturned — lady  rolled  Upon  ] 
lady,  all  being  sailly  discomposed  in  the  upael;  and,  what  was  wona,  I 
nothing  could  restrain  the  laughter  of  the  rude,  plebeian  ortiticera ;  M  1 
last  tlie  equipage  was  righted,  the  discomliied  damsels  replaced,  and  1 
thrii  charn'itc  resumed  its  place  in  (he  procession.     But  such  a  r 

■Tlw-M  eoriTrfancet  vera  nciiiicr  more  rvDi  leir  Uiiui  Imncbe,!  wngnnn.  wbicll  1 
w*ti!  kn><  f"'  'he  uRcmnnindaiinn  iif  Ihe  ijuenra  iiiaiili  ofhcnour;  thccbarrenes  1 
*enT  vejj  riiil|rofnBinen(r<(l  with  rti)  pninl,  mil  lined  witit  •cartel  clotli  Oirou^  I 
•at.    Tbey  ■»  ilaaeiitiMl  in  tlia  IwrumlioM  boolit  nf  ro]ralt]r.  very  minuwljr;  Ihsf   1 

^_     TOt.  II.— 10  . 


I 


i 


SIS  AMNB    OP    BOHEMIA. 

of  homed  caps  did  not  happen  witlioul  serious  inconveniences  lo  ifit 
weattrsi  as  HaydeaWn  very  minutely  particularizes. 

Aa  the  king  and  queen  pnaseil  through  the  city,  the  principal  ihorocgli- 
fares  were  hung  witti  gold  ctoth  and  siWef  tisKue,  and  tapesuy  of  sUi 
and  gold.  When  ihcy  approached  the  conduit  at  Cheapeide,  red  toil 
white  wine  played  from  (he  spouts  of  a  tower  erected  against  it,  iba 
royal  pair  were  served  "  with  rosy  wiae  smiling  in  goltlen  cups,"  uhI 
an  angel  flew  down  in  a  cloudy  and  presented  lo  the  king,  and  ihm  U 
the  queen,  rich  gold  circlets  worth  several  hundred  pounds.  Annlto 
condnit  of  wine  played  at  St.  Paul's  ea-ttem  gate,  where  was  iiatMud 
n  band  of  antique  musical  instruments,  whose  names  alone  will  aslMmil 
modern  musical  ears.  There  were  persona  playing  on  tympanies,  maw- 
chords,  cymbals,  psalteries,  and  lyres ;  zainburas,  citherns,  situlas,  horu, 
and  viols.  Our  learned  Lalinist  dwells  with  much  unction  on  tlie  sja- 
phonous  chorus  produced  by  these  instrumenls,  which,  he  says,  **  wi^ 
idl  hearers  in  a  kind  of  stupor."     No  wonder ! 

At  the  monastery  of  St.  Paul's  the  king  and  queen  alighted  from  ihrir 
■teeds,  and  passed  through  the  cathedral  on  foot,  in  order  Eo  pay  ibui 
oflerings  at  the  holy  sepulchre  of  St.  Erkenwald.  At  the  western  pti 
ihey  remounted  their  horses,  and  proceeded  to  the  Ludgnie.  That, 
just  above  the  river  bridge, — which  river,  we  beg  to  remind  our  m^tn, 
was  that  delicious  stream,  now  called  Fleet-ditch, — was  perched  -i 
celestial  banil  of  spirits,  who  saluted  the  royal  personages,  as  An 
passed  the  Flele-bridge,  with  enchanting  singing,  and  sweei  psalmudy, 
making,  withal,  a  pleasant  fume  by  swinging  incense-potn ;  tliey  Gk^ 
wise  scattered  fragrant  flowers  on  the  king  and  queen  as  they  sevctiUf 
passed  the  bridge." 

And  if  the  odoura  of  that  civic  stream,  the  Flete  at  that  lime,  by  wy 
means  rivalled  those  which  pertain  to  it  at  present,  every  one  mtM  o«ii 
(hat  a  fumigation  was  appointed  there  with  great  judgment 

At  the  Temple  barrier,  above  the  gate,  was  the  representation  of  i 
desert,  inhabited  by  all  manner  of  animals,  mixed  with  TfptilM  and 
monstrous  worms,  or,  at  least,  by  their  resemblances;  in  the  fctfk- 
ground  was  a  forest ;  amidst  the  concourse  of  beasts,  was  snud  the 
holy  Baptist  John,'  pointing  with  his  finger  to  an  Agnus  Dei.  lifter  ilw 
king  had  hahcd  to  view  this  scene,  his  attention  waa  struck  by  thi 
figure  of  St.  John,  for  whom  he  had  a  pecidiar  devotion,  when  an  u^ 
descended  from  above  the  wilderness,  bearing  in  his  hands  a  stdcmiil 
gift,  which  was  a  tablet,  studded  with  gems,  «  fit  for  any  altar,''  wi* 
the  cniciSxion  embossed  thereon.  The  king  took  it  in  his  band  sri 
said,  ^  Peace  to  (his  city ;  for  tlie  sake  of  Christ,  )ijs  moiber,  Snd  vt 
patron  St.  John,  1  forgive  every  ofience." 

Then  ihe  king  continued  his  progress  towards  his  paUce,  mJ  lb* 
queen  arrived  opposite  lo  the  desert  and  Sl  John,  when  loni  rhjm 
Venner  presented  her  with  another  tablet,  likewise  represoiiing  tlK  Cf» 
eiiision.     He  commenced  his  speech  with  lliese  words  ^— 

^  Illustrious  daughter  of  imperial  parents,  Anne — «  name  ta  BtbiW 

■  The  Temple  waa  ilion  in  ^oiwaiio 


ANNS    OF    BOHBMIA.  319 

iigniiying  grace,  and  which  was  borne  by  her  who  was  the  mother  of 
the  mother  of  Christ, — mindful  of  your  race  and  name,  intercede  for  us 
to  the  king ;  and,  as  often  as  you  see  this  tablet  think  of  our  city,  and 
fpeak  in  our  fitvour." 

Upon  which  the  queen  graciously  accepted  the  dutiful  offering  of  the 
city,  saying,  with  the  emphatic  brevity  of  a  good  wife  who  knew  her 
innuence,  ^  Leave  all  to  me." 

By  this  time  the  king  had  arrived  at  his  palace  of  Westminster,  the 
great  hall  of  which  was  ornamented  with  hangings  more  splendid  than 
the  pen  can  describe.  Richard's  throne  was  prepared  upon  the  King's 
Bench,  which  royal  tribunal  he  ascended,  sceptre  in  hand,  and  sat  in 
great  majesty,  when  the  queen  and  the  rest  of  the  procession  entered 
the  hall. 

The  queen  was  followed  by  her  maiden  train.  When  she  approached 
the  king,  she  knelt  down  at  his  feet,  and  so  did  all  her  ladies.  The 
king  hastened  to  raise  her,  asking, 

^  What  would  Anna  ? — declare,  and  your  request  shall  be  granted.'' 
The  queen's  answer  is  perhaps  a  fair  specimen  of  the  way  in  which 

die  obtained  her  empire  over  the  weak  but  affectionate  mind  of  Richard ; 

more  honeyed  words  than  the  following,  female  blandishment  could 

■carcely  devise. 

^  Sweet,"  she  replied,  ^  my  king,  my  spouse,  my  light,  my  life!  Sweet 
love,  without  whose  life  mine  would  be  but  death !  Be  pleased  to  govern 
jour  citizens  as  a  gracious  lord.  Consider,  even  to-day,  how  munificent 
their  treatment!  What  worship,  what  honour,  what  splendid  public  duty, 
have  they  at  great  cost  paid  to  thee,  revered  king !  Like  us,  they  are  but 
mortal,  and  liable  to  frailty.  Far  from  thy  memory,  my  king,  my  sweet 
love,  be  their  offences,  and  for  their  pardon  I  supplicate,  kneeling  thus 
lowly  on  the  ground." 

Then,  after  some  mention  of  Brutus  and  Arthur,  ancient  kings  of 
Britainf— which  no  doubt  are  interpolated  flourishes  of  good  Master 
Maydeeton,  the  queen  concludes  her  supplication,  by  requesting  ^^  tliat 
the  king  would  please  to  restore,  to  these  worthy  and  penitent  plebeians, 
their  ancient  chartera  and  liberties." 

<^  Be  satisfied,  dearest  wife,"  the  king  answered,  ^  loth  should  we  be 
to  deny  thee  any  reasonable  request  of  thine.  Meantime  ascend,  and  sit 
beaide  me  on  my  throne,  while  J  speak  a  few  words  to  my  people." 

He  seated  the  gentle  queen  beside  him  on  the  throne.  The  king  then 
■poke,  and  all  listened  in  silence,  both  high  and  low.  He  addressed  the 
lord  mayor: — 

**  I  will  restore  to  you  my  royal  favour  as  in  former  days,  for  I  duly 
prize  the  expense  which  you  have  incurred,  the  presents  you  have  made 
me,  and  the  prayers  of  the  queen.  Do  you  henceforth  avoid  offence  to 
your  sovereign,  and  disrespect  to  his  nobles.  Preserve  the  ancient  faith; 
despise  the  new  doctrincH  unknown  to  your  fathers ;  defend  the  catholic 
church,  the  whole  church,  for  there  is  no  order  of  men  in  it,  that  is  not 
dedicated  to  the  worship  uf  God.    Take  back  the  key  and  a^-o^c^^  V««^ 


I 


I 


mv  peace  in  ^our  my,  rule  tl«  iahabiuuits  u  (oaaerly^aai  be  >wm| 
them  my  repreBeniaiive." ' 

No  further  dillereaces  with  llie  king  diiituibed  the  couoiry,  donof  At 
life  of  Anne  of  Bohemia.  Ii  ia  probable  ilmi  if  the  exiitenct  <^  dui  k- 
Inved  queeQ  had  been  ipared,  the  calamities  uid  crimes  of  ItidwA 
future  yean  would  have  been  averted,  by  her  milil  advice. 

Yet  the  king's  extravagant  generosity  nothing  could  repren;  lbcpr> 
fusion  of  the  royal  household  is  severely  coinin«utt>d  upon  by  Wtten^ 
ham  aiid  Knightou,  Sidl,  their  elriciure«  seem  invidtotis;  noiliinf  tal 
partisan  malice  could  blame  such  hoepitality  as  the  foUowinf  is  a  uv 
of  fsniine.  ^'  Though  a  terrible  series  of  plagues  ami  fanuiw  «A«m< 
England,  the  king  retrenched  none  of  his  diver«oiis  or  espMMM.  Of 
entertained  every  day  six  thousand  persons,  most  of  them  were  indifiM 
poor.  He  valued  himseir  on  surpassing  in  mag niticence  all  the  aortmftt 
in  Europe,  as  if  he  possessed  au  inethausiible  treasure;  in  bis  kiirba 
alone,  three  hundred  persons  were  employed;  and  the  (jueen  had  a  lib 
nuniber  to  attend  upon  her  service-'" 

VVbile  Richard  was  preparing  for  a  campaign  in  Ireland,  wliich  KMCn 
had  revolted  from  his  aulhorily,  bis  departure  was  delayed  by  a  urtMi 
bemivemenL  This  was  the  loss  of  his  beloved  partner-  It  is  nnppiT^ 
she  died  of  the  pestilence  that  was  then  raging  througbnut  Europ^w 
her  decease  was  heralded  by  an  illness  of  but  a  few  hoars  FrauHCl 
says.  speakiJLg  of  the  occurrences  in  England,  June,  1394 — "  At  im 
period  the  larN'  Anne,  queen  of  England,  fell  sick,  to  the  infinite  &akm 
of  king  Richard  and  all  her  household.  Her  disorder  increased  wo  nfi^. 
thai  she  departed  this  lile  at  the  feast  of  Whitsuntide,  1 301.  The  Vm 
and  all  who  loved  her  were  greatly  aJHicied  at  her  death.  Ktag  RiehMd 
was  inconsolable  for  her  loss,  as  they  mutually  loved  each  other,  kwii^ 
been  married  young.  This  queen  \eti  no  issue,  for  she  nvvcr  bona 
child." 

Anne  of  Bohemia  died  at  her  favourite  palace  of  Shene ;  dw  ki^  mt 
with  her  when  she  expired.  He  had  never  given  her  a  riva] ;  abe  appMB 
to  have  possessed  his  whole  heart,  which  was  rent  by  ilw  num  vtrit 
sorrow  at  ilie  sudden  loss  of  his  fiiiibful  partner,  who  was,  in  kt,  hit 
only  friend.  In  the  frenzy  of  his  grief,  Ricbart]  imprecatMl  Um  hMMMi 
curses  on  the  place  of  her  death,  and,  unable  to  beu  Uw  sight  rf  At 
place  where  he  had  passed  his  only  happy  hours,  with  this  brinivi  iri 
virtuous  queen,  he  ordered  the  palace  of  Slieoe  lo  b«  levelled  mA  th 
ground.' 

The  deep  tone  of  Richard's  grief  is  apparent  even  in  ibe  sonaMM 
sent  by  liitn  to  llie  English  peers,  requiring  their  allendaoeea  b»  Al  it^ 
our  to  the  magnificent  obsequies  he  had  prepared  for  his  loal  nwsl 
His  letters  on  this  (occasion  are  in  existence,  and  are  addresaed  t«  ott 
of  his  barons  in  this  style : 


e  aeniallr  difflinnlad,  fas  BiMT  I 


ANNS    OF    BOBSM.I4.  3S1 

■y^BT  BSAB  AVD  YAITHTUL  COUtlSr,* 

"  Inasmuch  as  our  beloved  companion,  the  queen,  (whom  God  has  hence 
eommandcd,)  will  be  buried  at  Westminister,  on  Monday  the  third  of  August 
next,  we  earnestly  entreat  that  you  (setting  aside  all  excuses)  will  repair  to  our 
eity  of  London,  the  Wednesday  previous  to  the  same  day,  bringing  with  you  our 
▼ery  dear  Linswoman,  your  consort,  at  tlie  same  time. 

**  We  desire  diat  you  will,  the  preceding  day,  accompany  the  corpse  of  our 
dear  oonaort  from  our  manor  of  Shene  to  Westminster;  and  for  this  we  trust  we 
may  rely  on  youi  as  you  desire  our  honour,  and  that  of  our  kingdom.  Given 
under  our  privy  seal  at  Westminster,  the  lUth  day  uf  June,  1394/' 

We  gather  from  this  document,  that  Anne's  body  was  brought  from 
Shene  in  grand  procession,  the  Wednesday  before  the  3d  of  August, 
attended  by  all  the  nobility  of  England,  male  and  female;  likewise  by 
the  citizens  and  authorities  of  London,'  all  clothed  in  black,  with  black 
hoods ;  and  on  the  3d  of  August  the  queen  was  interred. 

^  Abundance  of  wax  was  sent  for  from  Flanders,  for  flambeaux  and 
torches;  and  the  illumination  was  so  great  that  nothing  was  seen  like  it 
before,  not  even  at  the  burial  of  the  good  queen  Philippa;  the  king 
would  have  it  so,  because  she  was  daughter  of  the  emperor  of  Rome 
and  Germany."' 

The  most  memorable  and  interesting  circumstance  at  the  burial  of 
Anne  of  Bohemia  is  the  fact,  that  Thomas  Arundel,  aflerwards  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  who  preached  her  funeral  sermon,  in  the  course 
of  it  greatly  commended  the  queen  for  reading  the  holy  Scriptures  in 
the  vulgar  tongue/ 

Richard's  grief  was  as  long  enduring  as  it  was  acute.  One  year 
elapsed  before  he  had  devised  tlie  spf>cies  of  monument  he  thought 
worthy  the  memory  of  his  beloved  Anne,  yet  his  expressions  of  tender- 
ness reganling  lier  pervaded  his  covenant  with  the  London  artificers  em- 
ployed to  erect  this  tomb.  He  took,  witiial,  the  extraordinary  step  of 
having  his  own  monumental  statue  made  to  repose  by  that  of  the  queen, 
with  the  hands  of  the  elFigies  clasped  in  eacii  other. 

The  tomb  of  Anne  was  commenced  in  1395;  the  indentures  descrip- 
tive of  its  form  are  to  be  found  in  the  Fccdera ;  tlic  marble  part  of  the 


*Tbe  style  of  this  circular  will  prove  how  much  modern  historians  are  mis- 
talcpn  who  declare,  that  king  Henry  IV.  first  adopted  that  form  of  roynl  address, 
which  terms  all  carls  the  king's  cousins;  yet  the  authority  is  no  less  than  tliat  of 
Bfaickstone.     It  does  not  appear  tliat  this  circular  was  confined  to  earls. 

'Tb«  FoKlera  contains  a  circular  from  the  king  to  the  citizens,  nearly  similar 
to  the  alwve.  "  Froissart. 

*Rapin,  vol.  i.  701.  There  is  a  great  contradiction  between  Rapin  and  Fox, 
when  alluding  to  tliis  funeral  sermon.  Fox,  in  his  dedication  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Gospels  to  queen  Elizabeth,  in  1571,  uses  these  words: — "Thomas  Arun<lel, 
airhbi»hop,  at  tlie  funeral  oration  of  queen  Anne,  in  1394,  diil  avouch,  as  Poly- 
dore  Vergil  faith,  that  she  had  the  gospels  with  divers  expositors,  which  she  sent 
unto  him  to  be  verified  and  examined.*'  This  is  the  direct  contrary  to  Rapin' t 
asperticm,  yet  the  whole  current  of  events  in  Richard  II.'s  reign  strongly  supports 
the  Bsm*rtion  of  the  early  reformers  that  Anne  of  Bohemia  was  favourably  in- 
dined  to  fli»:in.  CtTtnin  it  is  that  her  brother,  king  Winceslaus  of  Bohemia 
(th'KiKh  no  great  honour  to  the  cause),  encouraged  the  Hussites  in  her  native 
•ouutry. 

19* 


I 


I 


Jaa  ANHB    op    BOUEHIA. 

monument  wu  consigned  to  the  care  of  Stephen  Loat,  citizen  uJ  nam 
of  London,  and  Henry  Yevrle,  hie  partner. 

In  the  document  alluded  to  above  occur  these  rem&rkabU  wonb, 
'-  And  also  iasciipiioDB  are  to  be  graven  about  the  tomb,  ancb  ai  wiD  be 
delivered  proper  for  it"  The  actual  inscription  is  in  Latin ;  die  venb- 
meiils  are  tender  and  elegant,  and  the  words  probably  composed  bj  tLf 
king  himself,  aa  it  enters  into  the  personal  and  mental  qualifiealioiif  «f 
Aitrie,  like  one  who  knew  and  loved  her.  The  Latin  commence*, 
"  Sub  pecni  lam  maim  Anna  jacel  nunulata,"  dee. 

The  following  is  a  literal  transbtion : ' 

"  Under  lhi»  bIodb  li«>  Anna,  hero  enlombed. 
Wcdiled  in  tliic  wotld'i  life  to  the  teeaad  RjchatiL 
To  Chrin  were  het  niBak  tiriuei  detaied. 
Hi*  poor  itis  tteely  Ted  rrom  Iiei  Ireaiures; 
Strife  ibe  ususgeil,  and  twelling  feuds  appeasod. 
BcButeoui  hrr  fcirin.  her  &ce  lurpatiing  Ibii. 
On  Jajf'i  ae»onth  day,  iliineen  hundred  nincijr-faijr, 
All  comfort  was  bereft,  fbr  ibrougb  irremediable  sickoeH 
She  pasaeJ  away  inio  eternal  jays.'' 

Richard  deponed  for  Ireland  soon  after  the  burial  of  Anne,  but  b( 
heart  was  still  bleeding  for  the  loss  of  his  queen ;  and  thongb  her  «nl 
of  progeny  was  one  of  the  principal  causes  of  the  troubles  of  his  reif^ 
he  mourned  for  her  with  the  utmost  constancy  of  affection.  PrntDcnltT. 
wlieu  he  was  in  his  cuuiicii-chamber  at  Dublin,  if  aovihing  acctdenBlb 
recalled  her  to  his  ihoughls,  he  would  burst  into  tears,  rise,  anil  Euddnlf 
leave  the  room.' 

■•  The  year  of  her  death,"  says  Walsinghmn,  "  was  notable  for  spItnAd 
funerals.  Constance,  duchess  of  Lancaster,  a  lady  of  great  intioedBrT 
of  life,  died  then ;  and  her  daughler-in-Iatr,  the  co-heiresa  of  Uenl'«J> 
wife  of  Henry  of  Bolingbrokc,  and  mother  of  his  children,  died  id  iht 
bloom  of  life.  She  was  followed  to  the  tomb  by  Isabel,  dochoM  d 
York,  second  daughter  of  Pedro  the  Cruel,  a  lady  noted  for  h«j  o*w 
fineness  and  delicacy,  yet  at  her  death  showing  much  penitence  fbf  hff 
pestilent  canities.*  But  the  grief  fur  all  these  deaths  by  no  insm 
ei^ualled  that  of  the  king  for  his  own  queen  Anne,  whom  lie  loved  nts 
lo  niudneea." 

The  people  of  England  likewise  deeply  regretted  this  benignuit  wd 
peare-loving  queen,  and  lone  hallowed  her  memory  by  the  Bimpfe  ni 
expressive  appeliaiiou  of  "Good  i^ueen  Anne."* 


'There  li 


n  LaliD.  proliDlily  Inloiigliig  to  the  b 
iial  vaigai  jiiigle.  As  tba  men  naai 
re  omitted,  tii 


lie  htiDg  a  tablet 

epiiiiph  it  given,  llie  tablet  vvixi  are  omitted,  but  they  msy  be  tesa  ia  Aav 
*  Burton  t  Irish  Hi!«)ry.  'Heinwi  of  Pedro  iht  l>«L 

*A  letter  wriilen  by  Anae  of  Bohemia  i>  pteierveil  in  die  arobimof  <)■*■ 
Collego,  Oxibid,  in  lai-oui  ot  learning.     We  haVe  ceoeiTMl   Uil*  ioiiii    '      ' 
Mr.  Bnlliwell,  wlioia  learned  and  iatelligi'Dt  laboan  la  iIm  Camdaa  1 

%X«   OV    VOL.    It. 


LIVES 


OF  THB 


:iUEENS   OF  ENGLAND, 


nam 


THE  NORMAN  CONQUEST; 


WITH 


ANECDOTES  OF  THEIR  COURTS, 


NOW  naST  PITBLISHED  FBOH 


7ICIAL  RECORDS  AND  OTHER  AUTHENTIC  DOCUMENT'!^ 
PRIVATE  AS  WELL  AS  PUBLIC. 


htir   EDITION,  WITH  CORKECTIONS  AND  ADDITIONS. 


BY 


AGNES  STRICKLAND. 


Tb*  trtararM  of  aatiquily  taid  op 
k.  oM  hMorto  roili,  I  o|«miI. 

BsAOHoirr. 


VOL.  III.  J 


PHILADELPHIA: 

BLANCHARD   AND   LEA 

1852. 


Fnc;«!  ty  T.  £  A  P.  0.  Ct 


CONTENTS 


or  THB 


THIRP  VOLUME 


rf^^^>^^^i^^>^^^^^^^^«fc^ 


ABkLLA  OP  Valois,  sumamed  the  Little  Queen,  second  Claeen 

of  Richard  II ' Page    9 

lANNA  OP  Navarre,  Queen  of  Henry  IV 38 

Chapter  II 57 

ATRKRiNB  OP  Valois,  sumaoied  the  Fair,  Consort  of  Henry  V.     83 

Chapter  II 106 

ARGARET  OP  Anjou,  Quecu  of  Henry  VI 123 

Chapter  II 160 

uizABETH  WofjoYiLLB,  Quccu  of  Edward  IV 205 

Chapter  II 222 

WN  B  OP  Warwick,  Queen  of  Richard  lU 242 


(3) 


PREFACE. 


^^t^^^^^^MAAA 


r  apologies  are  due  to  an  indulgent  public  for  the  tardy 
ince  of  the  third  and  concluding  volume  of  the  First 
o{  the  "  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England." 
2ause  of  this  delay  will  be  best  explained  by  a  letter  which 
the  honour  of  receiving  from  his  Excellency  Monsieur 
in  May  last,  and  which  I  avail  myself  of  his  courteous 
(ion  to  publish,  as  affording  not  only  a  cogent  reason  for 
stponement  of  the  present  volume,  but  a  testimonial  of 
receding  iu  of  which  I  can  scarcely  be  too  proud. 

<<  Londns,  Mai  17,  1840. 

MOIBELLE, 

r^ponds  bien  tard  k  la  bont6  que  vous  m'avez  t^moign^ 
ivoyant  vos  'Vies  des  Reines  d'Angleterre.'  Je  n*ai  pas 
ous  en  parler  sans  les  avoir  lues,  et  jusqu'ici  j*ai  eu  bien 
tems  disponible.  J'ai  lu  eniin.  Mademoiselle,  et  avec  un 
*  plaisir.  C'est  un  ouvrage  chanpant,  plein  d'un  int^r^>t 
et  doux.  Vous  avez  ^tudi^  les  sources,  et  vous  savez 
sr  les  faits  simplement,  bien  que  sans  s^cheresse.  Ma 
finie,  j'ai  envoys  votre  livre  k  mes  filles,  qui  sont  encore 
p  et  qui  le  lisent  k  leur  tour  avec  le  vif  amusement  de  leur 


^ 


rsEPACK. 


"  AgT'-cz,  jo  voua  pric,  Mnii(ttnuit«ellG,  tous  met 
et  rhvinmagu  do  mon  respect. 


-Gmwai' 


"  Wa. — J'ai  ecril  a  Paris  pour  deniander  s'y  exyMnt  qod^ 
ducumcns  p:iriicuiLer3  et  tn^ita  sur  IliUtoirc  do  Mugotritt 
d'Anjou,  Hi  on  m'cn  envoje  j'aurai  rtionncur  dc  viiua  !«  tn» 
maltrc" 

I  had  been  so  maicrially  indi^btcd,  in  tlic  6rst  and  wcond 
volumes  of  the  Lives  of  the  Queen*  of  Engtaod.  to  the  inraluthla 
documents  wliich  the  rosoarcli  of  this  iUustrious  jtatesmwi-hiito- 
riari  lias  been  the  means  of  rcKCuing  fiom  oblivion,  that  1  *u 
naturally  anxious  to  nvoil  myself  of  his  friendly  lusUtaoce.  in 
writing  the  memuir  of  Margaret  of  Anjou;  and  as  MnnnOir 
MinheJel,  the  President  of  itw  Historical  Suciely  at  Paii*.  E 
Lefrevoit,  M.  Abel  HuBA,  Mademoiselle  Fontaine,  and  tenai 


PKBFACB.  Vli 

I  connected  with  the  Queens  of  England,  from  authentic 
rces,  accessible  only  through  the  influence  of  private  friend- 
>.  My  grateful  thanks  are  offered  to  sir  Harris  Nicolas;  J. 
ice,  c^q. ;  J.  O.  Halliwell,  esq. ;  the  Rev.  J.  Hunter ;  6.  F. 
tz,  esq.,  Lancaster  Herald ;  C.  G.  Young,  esq.,  York  Herald ; 
T.  Saunders,  the  restorer  of  the  Ladye  Chapel,  in  St.  Saviour*s, 
thwark ;  and  most  especially  to  that  great  historian,  John 
gard,  D.  D.,  and  to  the  Rev.  George  C.  Tomlinson,  editor  of 
Breknoke  Computus. 

"he  First  Series  of  the  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  England,  con- 
ing the  Anglo-Norman  and  Plantagenet  queens,  is  now  com- 
ed.  The  present  volume  presents  the  personal  history  of  six 
ms — namely,  Isabella  of  Valois,  the  second  Queen  of  Richard 
^hose  life  has  never  before  been  written ;  Joanna  of  Navarre ; 
berine  of  Valois;  Margaret  of  Anjou;  Elizabeth  Woodville; 
Anne  Neville.  These  princesses  were  all  more  or  less  in- 
ed  in  the  changeful  events  of  that  stormy  era  of  our  annals, 
:h  is  thus  finely  described  by  the  masterly  pen  of  Guizot : — 
The  history  of  England  in  the  fifteenth  century  consists  of  two 
t  epochs :  the  French  wars  without,  those  of  the  roses  within 
e  wars  abroad,  and  the  wars  at  home.  Scarcely  was  the 
ign  war  terminated  when  the  civil  war  commenced,  and  was 
and  fatally  continued  while  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancas- 
contested  the  throne.  When  these  sanguinary  disputes  were 
sdy  the  high  English  aristocracy  found  themselves  ruined,  de- 
ited,  and  deprived  of  the  power  they  had  formerly  exercised, 
associated  barons  could  no  longer  control  the  throne  when 
as  ascended  by  the  Tudors;  and  with  Henry  VII.,  in  1485, 
era  of  political  concentration  and  the  triumph  of  royalty 
menced.** 

he  sovereign  and  the  great  body  of  the  people  from  that  time 
e  common  cause,  to  prevent  the  re-establishment  of  an  oli- 
thy,  which  had  been  found  equally  inimical  to  the  rights  of 
Commons  and  to  the  dignity  of  the  Crown.  I  have  traced 
history  and  influence  of  the  queens  of  England,  from  the 
blishment  of  the  feudal  system  to  its  close;   commencing 


wilh  the  first  Anglo- Norman  queen,  Matilda,  tJio  wife  of  WilKa 
Itic  Conqueror,  and  concluding  wilh  Anne  of  Warwick,  ihc  li 
Planlageiiet  queen,  lierstlf  the  sad  representative  of  the  migtili< 
of  all  the  aristocratic  dictators  of  the  fifteenth  centtiry,  ihe  ei 
of  Warwick,  surnamcd  the  liing-maker. 

The  Second  Series  of  the  Lives  of  the  Queens  of  Englii 
will  commence  with  the  Tudor  queen-conaorts,  and  will  ccnlai 
in  chronological  succession,  the  queen-regnaaUi  as  well  u  t 
queen- consorts,  from  that  era. 


ISABELLA  OF  VALOIS, 

8URNAMED  TBB   LITTLE  QUEEN, 
SECOND  QUEEN  OF  RICHARD  II. 


Jkn  iufiint  qneeii'COiiMit'— Isabella,  daughter  to  Charles  VI. — English  ambasta^ 
dors — Isabella's  dialogue  with  tliera — i^he  is  betrotlied  to  Richard  II. — Married 
at  Calais — Embarks — Enters  London — Called  the  Little  Queen — Educated  at 
Windsor — King's  visits — Her  childish  love  for  him — Conspiracy  to  imprison 
the  king  and  queen — Young  queen's  tournament — Richard's  farewell  visit— 
The  young  qneen^s  growth  and  beauty  —  Extravagance  of  her  governess  — 
Change  in  her  household — Parting  with  Richard — Queen's  passionate  grief — 
Invasion — Queen  sent  to  Wallingford — King  s  return — ^His  poetical  address  to 
the  queen — She  is  seized  by  Bolingbrokc — Richard  in  the  Tower — Dejection 
^Fierce  burst  of  passion — Demands  restoration  of  the  queen  —  Deposed  — 
— Queen  at  Sinning  Hill — Joins  the  revolt  against  Henry  IV. — Richard's  mur- 
der— Widowhood  of  queen  Isabella  —  Offer  of  Henry,  Prince  of  Wales  —  Re- 
fusal— Queen  deprived  of  jewels  and  dower — Returns  to  France — Tender 
farewell  to  the  English  ^Restoration  to  her  family — Renewed  offers  from 
Henry,  Prince  of  Wales  —  Her  aversion — Betrothed  to  the  heir  of  Orleans  — 
Murder  of  her  iather-in-law — Mournful  procession  of  Isabella — Birth  of  Isa- 
bella's infant — Her  death — Burial  at  Blois — Grief  of  her  husband — Elegies 
written  by  him — Discovery  of  Isabella's  corpse— Re-interment. 

The  union  of  Isabella  of  Valois  with  Richard  II.  presented  an  anomaly 
lo  the  people  of  England  unprecedented  in  their  annals.  They  saw  wim 
•■toniahment  an  infant,  not  nine  sommers  old,  sharing  the  throne  as  the 
chosen  queen-consort  of  a  monarch  who  had  reached  his  thirtieth  year. 

Richard,  whose  principal  error  was  attention  to  his  own  private  feel- 
io^  in  preference  to  tlie  public  good,  considered,  that  by  the  time  this 
USle  princess  grew  up,  the  lapse  of  years  would  have  mellowed  his  grief 
for  the  loved  and  lost  Anne  of  Bohemia ;  he  could  not  divorce  his  heart 
from  the  memory  of  his  late  queen  sufficiently  to  grive  her  a  successot 
never  his  own  age. 

Isabella  of  Valois  was  the  daughter  of  Charles  VI.  of  France  and 
liabeau  of  Bavaria,  that  queen  of  France  aAerwards  so  notorious  for  her 
wickedness ;  but  at  the  time  of  the  marriage  of  Richard  II.  with  her  little 
dtaghter.  Queen  Isabeau  was  only  distinguished  for  great  beauty  an^ 
luxurious  taste  in  dress  and  festivals. 

Charles  VI.  had  already  experienced  two  or  three  agonising  attackr 

if  inflammatiofi  on  the  brain,  which  had  yielded,  however,  to  medica. 

ikill ;  and  he  was  at  this  time  a  magnificent,  prosperous,  and  popular 


I 


I 
I 

L 


10  ISABBLLA    OF     VALOtS. 

•DTereii;!!.  InhellR,  ihc  rlilnt  rhild  o(  this  rn)  ul  pair,  fint ««  Jw  ligtit 
u)  tlio  LoUTre  [uIiimi,  dI  Psris,  1 387.  Nirvemtxr  Slh.  She  wm  lh«  UtM 
uf  a  ounicrniu  uid  lovely  liiiiuly>  ibe  fviuales  ot  wliicli  were  nmiBUife 
for  iha  brauly  laTjsheil  on  ihein  by  ihe  hnnil  of  naiun.  Tlie  ^imm  tt 
Tmaee  ww  iho  ilni)^hi«r  of  a  Gemi&n  princ«  and  an  Italian  princeM ;  At 
waa  tvnuwiied  r'>r  the  e^lemlniir  of  her  lanp  dark  ej^cs.  and  ihe  dw> 
iiaa*  anil  briijlitnngs  of  bcr  romplrtion,  charms  which  wpre  inuwniiad 
iFi  htff  (Uughlera  in  no  roninion  (Icijttc.  Isabella  hail  threv  hmhan. 
who  ven  aurressivcly  ilaujihins ;  atitl  four  sistc^r? — Jnanno,  dllcbCM  ti 
Briiuiny  ;  Marie,  a  nun  -,  Michelle,  the  fim  duchesa  of  Philip  Ibe  Qaei 
iif  Burgundy  ;  and  Kaiherine  ihe  Fair.  i)i«  quKn  of  [l«ury  V.  of  En^amL 
These  loyal  iadir*  inhrriied  their  laihctN  goodness  wjihoui  bis  midailfi 
and  iheir  mothcr^s  beamy  niihnut  hrr  Tiers.  Th«  princuM  Isab«llii  wu 
)ireci>ciou«  in  iniellcci  and  autiiiiv,  and  was  every  way  worthy  of  fulall- 
ing  a  qiiernly  dMliny,  Unlike  lier  sister*,  Mirhelle  and  Katheriiw,«bi} 
Kcre  fcuellv  neulecied  in  their  infant  yeors,  she  was  the  darling  nf  hrt 
parenia  ond^of  llie  court  of  France.  Isabella  is  no  mule  on  Ihc  biogi*. 
pliiad  puge;  the  words  she  uLieteil  have  been  clironiclcd ;  uml  duMgK 
tio  yuuti^.  ImiiH  an  the  wife  and  widuw  of  on  English  king,  research  inll 
■how  thai  her  actions  were  of  some  hisloricnl  imporianee.  The  bfe  of 
Kiehanl'ii  Inst  consortia  aeurioua  portion  nf  the  hiofp^phy  of  ourqifew 
nt  Gnglaiid,  us  an  iostunre  of  a  girl  of  lender  »ge  pliccd  in  annnnl  d^ 

rurastancra. 

"  The  king,"  says  air  John  de  Gcailly,  a  courijy  infonnani  of  FW^ 
•art, "  it  adriaed  to  marry  again,  and  1ib«  had  researches  made  crery 
where,  hut  in  vain,  for  u  autlable  lady.  He  has  been  told  that  lite  ksi( 
of  Navarre  has  sisters  and  daughtem,  but  he  will  not  hear  of  them.  Tb> 
iluke  of  Gloucester  has.  likewise,  a  grown-ap  girl,  who  ia  marritgnUh 
and  well  pleaHed  would  he  be  if  his  royal  nepliew  would  ctiocoe  tej 
bui  (he  king  says  '  she  is  too  nearly  related,  being  hid  eousin-genniB.' 
King  Kirliarvl's  thoughts  are  so  bent  on  ihc  eldest  dniii;liier  of  ilie  buf 
of  Fninee,  he  will  not  hear  of  any  other ;  it  causes  griuit  n  eiidtr  in  dui 
roiiiiiry  tliai  he  ehoulit  be  so  eager  lo  marry  liie  ilaui^hicr  of  hii  ailfR- 
rary.  and  he  is  not  ilie  better  beloved  for  iL  King  Kii^hard  has  bran 
luld  '  that  the  lady  was  by  far  loo  young,  and  thai  uvcn  in  live  or  ta 
years  she  would  Dot  he  the  proper  age  for  a  wife.'  lie  replied  plcanallyi 
■  that  every  day  would  remedy  the  defirieucy  of  age,  and  her  vouih  tt 
one  of  his  reasons  for  preferring  her,  berauae  ho  should  eduoile  her  tai 
bring  her  up  to  his  own  mind,  and  lo  the  manners  and  cusluws  oi  ih 
English ;  and  that,  as  for  himself,  he  was  young  onoagh  Uj  tnil  Jbf 
her,'  " 

Froissftrt  was  staying  at  Eliham  pnloce  when  the  parliament  aMM 

debate  the  marriage  in  the  beautiful  gothic  hall.'     While  they  <m 

walking  on  Die  teirace,  sir  Richiird  Sturry,  one  of  the  kmg's  houschakli 

gave  him  this  information  ; — 

**  The  king  made  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  speak  of  the  btuiiuM 


ISABELLA    OF    TALOia.  11 

In  the  ilebale  i[  wm  ngrMd,  iliat  the  nrchbishop  of 
niH  oT  Ririlani!,  and  llie  pnrl  martilial,  with  tweiitv  kntgliu 
ty  wjuires  of  honour,  sliould  ivul  on  the  krne  of  Prance,  and 
B  treaty  of  marriage  between  him  and  the  princess  Ittabella.' 
n  the  EnilUh  einba^y  tirrived  at  Paris,  they  were  lodged  near 
[  ilu  Tiroir,  and  l!i«ir  attendants  and  horses,  (o  the  number  o( 
drtd,  in  the  adjoining  sireeLs.  Tlie  king  of  France  resided  ai 
rre,  and  the  ijueen  and  tier  cliiklren  at  the  Hotel  de  Sl  Put,  nn 
W  of  the  Seine ;  and  to  please  the  English  lonjs.  their  renuest 
lietl  10  visit  the  queen  and  her  family,  and  especially  the  liule 
li  whom  they  were  soliciting  to  be  bestowed  as  the  wife  of  iheir 
I  they  were  impatient  lo  behold  her.  Ttiis  hud  been  at  liral 
'fiw  the  French  counril  excused  ihemaelves  by  observing,  'That 
I  M  vet  but  eight  years;  how  could  any  one  know  how  so 
)  child  would  conduct  herself  al  such  an  interview  V  ^'  She  had, 
I  beeh  carefully  educated,  as  she  proved  when  the  English 
miled  upon  her;  for  when  llie  earl  marshal  dropped  upon  hi> 

Jam,  if  it  please  God,  you  shall  be  our  lady  and  ([neen.' 
replied  insinntly.  nnd  irithoiil  any  one  promptiiis  her.  '•  Sir.  if  ll 
mI  and  my  lord  and  lather,  that   I  be  queen  of  England.  1  shttll 
[Jeued  ihereal,  for  I  have  been  lold  ]  shall  then  be  a  great 

nude  the  earl  marshal  rise,  and,  taking  him  by  the  h»nd.  led 
[Deen  babeau  her  mother,  who  was  much  pleased  at  her  answer, 
ill  who  heard  it  The  appearance  and  manners  of  this  young 
wtnt  very  agreeable  to  ilie  EnglMh  ambassadors,  and  they 
UDong  themselvei  she  would  be  a  lady  of  high  honour  and 

tefore  the  yomi^  Imbella  arrired  in  England,  the  duke  of  Iao- 
ought  &t  to  pre  his  princely  hand  lo  Catherine  Rouei.  who  had 

■Mliiir  Hnor  ihe  Jepannie  of  iho  embais)',  Ricbiuil  11.  wu  nl  tpimire  to 
te  ptBKuUIion  copy  of  ilio  puF^iiu  prfpaceil  fnt  lilm  \ij  tii  Jolin  Frois- 
pf<«*nt»l  il  to  him  in  hit  cbunlior.  Ibr  I  had  i<  wiih  mr.  mil  Inlil  il  on 
Pn>m  ihii  pauKge  ii  would  nppear  tliat  rtiv  kint;  mtetird  lirm  hi>lbra 
tra,  "He  tnnk  it.  anrl  Irwked  inio  it  with  tnueh  ptramrp.  He  ought 
•*n  pItaMd,  fill  ii  wu  bandiamAlr  written  and  iltinniniUfid.  ami  IodbcI 

■  velvai.  wiLh  trtt  ailrer  gill  (ludi,  ami  r>hi  of  ih*  mme  in  iha  mid- 
two  large  nlaaps  of  lilvet  (ilt,  ticliljr  worknl  Willi  ro*H  in  ibe  ceoDW. 
■iketl  nm  '  of  what  the  book  liraled  I'     I  repli«l.  ■  Of  I"vb.'     Re  wsa 

riOi  the  answer,  iml  lUppcil  into  w-vftal  plueo?.  lea-linf:  part*  aloml 
Itf  well,  fct  h«  rrnd  and  ipok*  Pt«icli  in  periWrtlnn.  Hr  dim  gsra  It 
fcU  ktilKhu.  sir  Rirfaird  CreHon,  to  eanjr  ti  lo  hit  onsntf,  anil  mails  me 
BMwIedgnxnn  Ibr  it"  This  kniffhi  w»«  probably  ih*  nuibor  of  "  Cue 
rieal  CfaiOBicI*."     The  kiiiC  did   noi  tnn&nr   his  Kmliliule  In  enrmy 

■  we  Sod  be  Kdetward*  pmanipd  the  ninstrrl-liifiorian  wiib  B  fln* 
Im  gOblM,  eonlaiiiint  one  hundmil  nohlci,  a  lieiislV>--lioii  which,  M 
tddi,  was  of  inflnile  tt<e  to  him.    The  whole  of  iliii  •rene  it  a  preckiui 

domeMle  hintcry  of  En)ili*h  royalty,  and  carrin  lb*  rcadtir  back  fbw 
■  if  il  W4re  but  yeiterilay.  *¥nnHM>. 


I 


IS  ISABELLA    OP    VALOtB.  ^^M 

been  goTerness  lo  liia  ttangliters,  and  was  already  mother  to  ihoK  tOH 

of  the  duke  »o  cclobniied  in  English  hislory  as  [ho  Besafotu,  Serio« 
wtru  the  feuds  iliie  iiiis-allianee  rsiaeil  io  the  royal  family,  ffhea  On 
marriage  of  tlie  duke  of  Lnucnster  was  antiniinced  lo  ihe  jiultes  afrovtl 
descent  in  England,  such  as  ihc  duchess  of  Gloucester  and  the  cuuniea 
of  Arundel,  who  was  a  Mortimer  of  ihe  line  of  Clnren':ei  they  v«t 
greatly  iihocked,  and  said. '-  The  duke  had  saiUy  disgmce<(  hinuwlf  b; 
marrying  a  woman  of  light  character,  since  she  would  take  rank  m 
second  lady  in  the  kingdom,  and  the  young  qu^en  would  be  dbhonntv- 
ably  accompanied  by  her;  but,  for  their  parts,  they  would  leave  her  to 
do  the  honours  of  the  court  alone,  for  they  would  never  enter  any  pUci 
where  she  was.  They  ihemsoWes  would  be  disgraced  if  ihev  perniiiinl 
cud)  a  base-born  duchess,  who  had  been  mistress  to  the  dnkr,  badi 
before  and  after  his  inarriage  with  the  priJicess  CoiiaiAnce,  in  take  pr*> 
cedence  of  them,  and  their  hearts  would  burst  with  grief  were  it  to 
happen.  Those  who  were  the  most  outrageous  on  the  sttbject  ws(  tlw 
duke  and  duchess  of  Gloucester."  '  Thus  was  the  court  of  king  Rtdk 
ard  in  a  state  of  ferment,  wiih  the  discontents  of  the  princeMea  nf  A) 
house  of  Plaitiagenet,  just  ai  the  tune  when  he  required  tii^m  to  asMm- 
ble  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  his  infant  bride.  While  these  IuIh* 
were  seeding  their  points  of  precedency,  the  prineesa  Iwlicila  tx 
espoused  in  Paris  by  the  eai'l  marshal,  as  proxy  fur  tii»  roVKl  lavit:. 
''She  was  from  that  time,"  says  Froissart,"  styled  the  (|iie«n  of  EagiiiMl. 
And  I  was  at  the  lime  told  it  was  preity  to  see  her,  young  as  she  wk, 
practising  how  to  act  the  queen." 

About  this  time  the  king  of  France  sent  to  England  thtr  roiini  .<^i  !''>i, 
rho  liad   married  Biehard's  half-sister,  Maud  Holland,  >> 
Fair.     King  Richard  promised  Ids  brother-in-law  thai  lie  ^.^ 
Calais,  and  have  an  interview  with  the  king  of  France,  'a 
was  to  he  delivered  to  him;  and  if  a  peace  could  nm  be  ;i^ 
truce  for  thirty  or  forty  years  was  to  be  established.     Tliii  liuki:  -i'>i 
dtichess  of  Gloucester,  with  their  children,  wera  a^ked  by  the  king  l^ 
be  of  die  ptirty,  as  were  the  dukes  and  duchesses  of  York  and  lMa> 
ter.    This  lost  lady,  deapile  of  all  the  displeasure  of  the  ladies  vi  ttu 
blood  royal  against  her,  was  staying  with  the  king  and  her  lord  alCU 
tham,  anil  had  already  been  inviied  to  die  king's  marriagn. 

With  this  royal  company  king  BicharJ  crossed  thtt  sra  W  OM 
while  the  king  of  France,  his  queen,  and  the  young  princess,  ad*a^ 
as  far  as  St.  Omer :  where  they  remained  till  the  treaty  of  peace  iwwJ 
some  hopeful  form.     It  was,  however,  in  vain  that  the  Frt-ncli  ttTtmH 
aoflen  tht'  opposition  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester  by  llaiieriiu'  aUrii:><>a) 
and  the  hajidsonie  preseuia  they  olTerei]  him.    He  Bccepti-<1  i  ? 
"birt  the  same  rancour  remained  in  his  breast,  and,  in  >;  . 
thing,  when  the  peace  was  mentioned,  his  answers  were  >i- 
aevere  as  ever.     It  was  observed,  that  he  pointed  out  tht   :: 
gold  and  silver  to  his  friends,  oliserving  •  that  Fnneo  was  iiilj : 
rich  country,  and  that  peace  ought  not  yet  to  be  made,*  n  remark 


tBABBLLA    OF    VALOIfl.  19^ 

worthy  of  ■  biinJii  than  a  roya!  gurst.    The  king  of  England,  at  I 
axiU-iTed  to  iIJHCOTcr  the  niPans  of  allaymg;  Ihis  bellirn^e  ihsposiljon  i^'J 
hia  uncle;  the  hnbe  wb5  enormous,  eonaiileritig  ihe  iluke's  constant  ev*  T 
liortations  in   regard   to  rejonnalion  anii   efonomv  in   the   govCTnmenl- 
The  king  wm  forced  to  promise  his  pstrioiic  imele  fifiv  ihouEand  noliles 
(in  liis  reitirn  home,  and  to  make  his  only  son.  Humphrey,  earl  of  Ko* 
ehcsUr.  with  a  pension  of  two  thousand  nobles  per  Dnnum.     After  the 
piplimlion  of  this  unconscionable  bribe,  no  impediment  remained  to 
i).c  peace  and  marriage,  which  wei'e  concluded,  without  the  restoration  ■ 
i^  CaLiis  being  insisied  on  by  France.  [ 

"■  On  the  vigil  of  the  feast  of  St.  Simon  and  St.  Jude,  which  fell  on  tf  ' 
rridnr,'  the  2Tlh  of  October,  1396,  llie  two  kings  led  their  lodging  on 
ihr  point  of  ten  o'clock,  and,  accompanied  by  a  grand  attendance,  went 
In  the  tents  thai  had  been  prepared  for  them.  Thence  they  proceeded 
tin  foDl  to  a  ceriain  ipace.  which  hud  been  fixed  on  for  their  meeting, 
and  which  was  snrrounded  by  four  hundred  French,  snd  as  many  Eng- 
lali.  kniuihts,  brilliantly  armed,  who  stood  with  drawn  swords.  These 
kntghta  were  ao  marshalled,  that  the  two  kings  passed  between  iheir 
mnitA,  conducted  in  the  following  order : — The  dukes  of  Lancaster  and 
'i|»iicc«ier  supported  the  king  of  France,  whde  the  dukea  nf  Beiri  and 
i'urgnndy,  iiiicjes  of  the  French  king,  conducted  kin^  Richard;  and 
'  111*  itiey  advanced  slowly  through  the  ranks  of  the  knighis ;  and  when 
.he  two  kings  were  on  ihe  point  of  meeting,  the  eight  hundred  knights 
fell  on  llieir  knees  and  wept  for  joy" — -a  unanimity  of  feeling  »ery  re- 
markable in  eight  hundred  knights.  "  King  Richard  and  king  ChsrlM 
met  bare-headed,  and,  having  saluted,  took  each  other  by  the  hand; 
*  len  the  king  of  France  led  the  king  of  EngUnd  to  his  tent,  which  was 
Kisome  and  richly  adorned ;  the  four  dukes  look  each  other  by  the 
I,  and  followed  them.  The  English  and  French  knights  reinaiaed 
it  ranks,  looking  at  each  other  witli  good  humour,  and  never  stured 
1  Ihe  whole  ceremony  was  over. 
fVWlien  the  two  kings  entered  the  lent,  holding  each  other  by  the 
id,  Ihe  duke«  of  Orleans  and  Bourbon,  wlin  had  been  left  in  the  tent 
_>  welcome  the  monarchs,  cast  themselves  on  their  knees  before  them; 
the  kings  slopped  and  made  them  rise.  The  six  dukes  then  assemblrd 
in  front  of  the  lent,  and  conversed  together,  while  the  kings  v 
iliv  trni  ami  conferred  solus,  while  the  wine  and  spicks  were  piep«rinb  | 
The  duke  of  Bern  served  the  king  of  France  with  the  comfit-boi.  UM> 
thp  duke  of  Burgundy  with  the  cup  of  wine.  In  like  manner  was  lh« 
king  of  England  aerred  by  ihe  duke«  of  Lancaster  and  Gloucester. 
Af^r  the  kings  had  been  served,  the  knights  of  France  and  England  look 
the  wine  and  comliU-and  served  the  prelates, dukes,  princes, and  counia; 
hI,  BfWr  them,  the  stiuirea  and  other  ollicera  of  the  household  did  the 
Di(>  to  all  within  the  tenia,  unlil  every  one  had  partaken  of  the  win»-l 
I  »picM;  during  which  lime  the  two  monarchs  conversed  freely.  i 

"  At  1 1  o'clock  of  ihe  Saturday  morning,  the  feast  of  St.  Simon  ami' 
L  Juide,  the  king  of  England,  atiende<I  by  his  uncles  and  nobles,  waited 


1 

i 


4 

I 

'J 


I 


I 


k 


on  ihe  king  of  France  in  lib  lent.  Dinaer-lable«  were  kid  oUj  ite 
Tor  ibe  kings  was  very  handanme,  aoil  the  eiilt-boani  wu  cowaei  wiik 
itiaenificeni  plaic.  The  two  kings  were  senied  by  ihoncelTM,  Owku^ 
of  France  ai  ihe  top  of  the  table,  and  ibe  king  of  England  b«law  Im, 
St  a  good  diblance  from  each  other.  They  were  served  by  iba  dak«  of 
Berri,  Burgundy,  and  Buurbon;  ibe  lant  entertained  the  two  nwaarda 
with  many  gay  remarket,  to  make  ihem  laugh,  and  those  abaui  ifae  npi 
table,  for  he  bad  much  drollery ;  and  addressing  the  king  of  Engludi 

**  ■  My  lord  king  of  England,  you  ought  to  make  good  cheor.  Eat  Voa 
have  had  all  your  wishes  gratified.  You  have  a  wife,  or  atudl  ban  OOA 
for  she  will  speeddy  be  delivered  to  you.' 

"  *  Bourbonnois,'  replied  the  king  of  Ftanee,  *  w«  wi»h  OOT  AUfhW 
were  at  old  as  our  cousin  of  SL  Pol,'  thougit  we  were  lo  dosUe  h*r 
dowrr.  for  (hen  she  would  l<ive  our  aon  of  England  much  ntne^* 

"  The  king  uf  England,  who  understood  French  well,  notieod  ihm 
words,  and.  imrncdiaiely  bowing  lo  the  king  of  Fraricrn,  replied, — 

**  *  Good  faiher-in-law,  ilie  age  of  our  wife  pleases  us  riglii  writ  We 
pay  not  great  alteniiun  respecting  age,  as  we  value  your  love;  for  we 
shall  now  be  so  strongly  united,  ihat  no  king  in  Chris lendota  aaioMf 
way  hurt  ua.' " 

When  dinner  was  over,  which  lasted  not  long,  the  cloth  wu  ihkiiwI, 
the  tables  carried  away,  and  wine  and  spices  brought.  After  tliii  lb 
young  bride  entered  the  teut,  attended  by  a  great  number  of  tadita  !■! 
damsels.  King  Chiirles  led  lier  by  ilie  hand,  and  gave  het  lo  the  lag 
of  England,  who  imniediaiely  rose  and  took  his  le»*e.  The  Ihile  qwM 
was  placed  jn  a  ver^-  rich  Utter,  which  hud  been  prepared  fiw  her;  M 
of  all  the  French  ladies  who  were  there,  only  the  lady  de  Coiircy  wM 
with  her.  for  there  were  inauy  of  the  principal  UJics  of  Engtanil  in  pr*. 
Bcnce,  such  as  the  duchesses  of  Lancaster,  of  York,  of  GluuoMtn,^ 
Iri-land,'  the  lady  of  Numur,  the  lady  Poinings,  an<l  many  olben,  mio 
all  received  queen  Isabella  with  great  joy.  When  the  ladiec  ware  tmtf, 
ihe  king  of  England  and  his  lords  departed  with  the  yooi^  phtwM; 
and,  riding  at  a  good  pace,  arrifed  at  Culaii. 

On  Ihe  Tuexday,  which  wax  AU-Sainta'  day,  the  king  of  Eogkad  «» 
married  by  ihe  archbiiihop  of  Canlerbury  iJi  the  church  of  Si.  WinhnlM. 
of  Calais,  to  the  lady  l«abella  of  France.  Great  was  the  fe«sun#o«lbl 
occasion;  and  the  heralds  and  minstreLs  were  so  liberally  paid, tut ihiv 
were  satisfied. 

Richard  renounced  at  this  marriage  (lo  the  indignaiioa  of  the  doletf 
Gloucester,  all  claiuia  to  the  crown  of  France  in  right  of  Igdalta  m 
her  desceiidanle.' 

The  dukes  of  Orleans  and  Bourbon  earns  to  Oalus  lo  visit  ihf  M^ 

Tills  roung  loily  was  nioce  lo  king  Ricbard.  the  UaughUr  of  Maud  Bnl^l. 

•ltmnm«l  die  Fair.     She  was  jiroUlily  llir  beauly  of  ilwi  rcKiral. 

"*"      widow  ol  Rulicn  de  Vere,  nieniiaaed    in  a   lonnPi   meianir  ef  q^M 

Till-  Ja>ly  d«  Comc)-.  who  ttieampnnied  Ihe  liule  <}aeeD  to  EnelaiiA  *■■ 

:r  or  Liii  Iiuly;  ■!]«  wa*  married  to  llie  aaunt  de  Cilty,  Uul  wet  EDBV 

to  kiug  Biotuud.  ■•■   ■    - 


ISABELLA    OP 


ALOIS. 


s  il  queen  of  Rowland  luro  days  after  ihe  itmrriage;  am)  on 
.  y  went  back  lo  Si.  Omcr,  where  llie  king  aiid  qiieen  of  France  waited 
'  ihrm.  That  tame  FriJay  rnornin)(  kinjf  Ricliard  and  queen  Isabella, 
.'Viu^  hcnrd  nn  earlv  mass  and  drunk  aume  wlue.  embarked  on  board 
ilir  ressels  il»(  had  been  prepared  fnr  them.  With  a  favourable  wind, 
in  iMi  than  thire  houra  they  arrived  al  Dover.  The  queen  dineil  at  ihe 
nuilo,  anil  »lepi  (he  next  niufht  al  Rocheater.  Passins  through  Darifurdi 
■'ic  arrived  al  the  palace  at  Elihitm.  where  tlie  nobles  and  their  ladiw 
'.  .iL  leave  uf  llie  king  and  queen,  and  went  lo  iheir  homes. 

The  yoiMi^  qneen'a  entry  into  Lundon  is  ihu»  noted  by  our  chronK 

•'.m  : — ''The  young  qneon  Isabella,  commonly  called  the  Litile  ifur  sbe 

.IS  not  eii;hl  yesrB  old),  was  conveyed  from  Kenninglon,  near  to  Laifr- 

iti  palaee.  ilirnugh  Southwark.  lo  the  Tower  of  London,  Nov,  13tli, 

:.i:n  such  a  multitude  of  persons  vrent  out  to  see  her,  that  on  I^ndon 

!   :  !:;e  ninr  persons  were  crushed  to  death,  of  whom  the  prior  of  Tip- 

'1,1?!  I'di-.nnd  a  matron  of  Cornhdl  another.'"    The  queen  slept  one 

■   ,ii   'lu'  Tower,  and  the  next  day  waa  conducted  in  high  pomp  ts 

I  I  I  IT.  where  king  Richard  was  wailing  in   his  palace  lo  receiv* 

'  I      Till-  day  the  Londoners  made  very  rich  preseiiis  to  the  quee^ 

U'iiich  were  most  graciously  accepted. 

The  portion  of  Isabella  waa  considerable,  consisting  of  900,000  fmnci 
in  gold,  to  be  paid  in  yearly  instalments.  She  brought  with  her  a  ward- 
robe of  grpni  richness.  Among  her  garments  was  a  robe  and  mantle, 
QBc^callcd  in  England,  made  of  red  velvet  embossed  with  birds  of  gold- 
■niUia*  work,  perched  upon  branches  of  pearls  and  emeralds.  The  robe 
«ra«  trimmed  down  the  sides  with  miniver,  and  had  a  enpe  and  hood  of 
thp  f«me  fur.  the  mantle  was  lined  with  ermine.  Another  robe  was  of 
marray-me/ereon  velvet  embroiiiered  with  pearl  roses.  She  had  coroneU) 
vin^  nerklaces,  and  clasps,  amounting  lo  500,000  crowns.  Her  chait)- 
Ixrr-tiangings  were  red  and  while  satin,  embroidered  with  Itgiires  of  TJt^ 
tB|p«  and  shepherdesses.  These  jewels  were  afterwards  a  matter  of 
pcihtiral  controversy  belween  England  and  France, 

Several  authors  declare  that  young  Isabella  was  crowned  al  Westmin- 
ftier  wiih  grvat  magnificence,  and  there  actually  exists,  in  ihe  Ftedera,  b 
suinintMi*  for  her  coronation  on  Epiphany  Sunday,  I3S7.' 

Wtddsor  was  the  chief  residence  of  itie  royal  child,  who  waa  railed 
queeu-conson  of  England.  Here  her  education  proceeded,  under  ibe 
■a  peril)  ten  den  ee  of  the  second  daughter  of  Ingelram  de  Courcy;  and 
lien!  the  king,  whose  feminine  beauty  of  features  and  complexion  ■om^' 
wbal  ijnalifiMl  the  disparity  of  years  beiween  a  man  of  thirty  and  a  girl 
dT  un,  behaved  to  his  young  wife  with  such  winning  atientiuii,  tliat  aiu 
TOaiiicd  a  Lender  remembrance  of  him  long  ader  he  was  hurried  lo  priao^ 
•uil  (ho  grave.  Ilia  visiia  occasioned  her  a  cessation  from  the  routinp/ 
«>r  rilucation ;  while  his  gay  temper,  his  musical  accoinplishmenis,  hjsj 


I 

I 


L 


Hi  ISABELLA     of     V  a  LOIS. 

■plenilour  of  dress,  anil  soflness  of  mnnnera  to  females,  made  htr  n^ 
bufband  exceedingly  beloved  by  ihe  young  bean  of  Inbelk. 

The  king  had  expended  prodigious  suidb  on  the  royal  prof 
France,  and  on  the  murriage  and  pompous  entry  of  the  litde 
These  debts  had  now  to  be  liquidated ;  and  a  stnigglB  ■< 
between  the  king  and  the  popular  party  concerning  the  nipiiUtS',  wbwfa 
ended  in  the  destruction  of  the  dake  of  Gloucester,  and  b'ta  mon  hmatm 
colleague,  the  earl  of  Arundel.  A  short  but  fierce  despotion  was  esofr 
lished  by  Richard,  which  ultimately  led  to  his  deposition. 

From  the  earliest  period  of  her  sojourn  in  England,  there  ww  matt 
probability  that  Isabella  would  share  a  prison  than  a  throne.  PnMMn 
thus  details  one  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester's  plots,  the  objeci  ol  windi 
was  the  lifelong  incarceration  of  the  harmless  little  qneeo. 

"He  invited  the  eari  of  March'  to  come  and  visit  him  ai  Pteshf. 
There  he  unbosomed  to  him  all  the  secrets  of  his  heart,  telliag  hJoitM 
certain  influential  persons  had  elected  him  as  king  of  Eaglamli  nM)|iiB( 
that  king  Richard  and  his  queen  were  to  he  deposed  and  forthwith  t««- 
fined  in  prison,  where  they  were  to  he  maintained  with  ampls  prtrrmm 
during  their  IJves;  and  he  besought  his  nephew  '■  to  give  (ine  coasidoa- 
tion  to  this  project,  which  was  supported  by  the  earl  of  ATatul(l,il» 
earl  of  Warwick,  and  many  of  the  prelates  and  barons  of  E'l^in' 
The  earl  of  March  was  thunderstruck  at  hearing  this  proposal  froab* 
uncle ;  buU  young  as  he  was,  he  concealed  his  emotion. 

The  duke  of  Gloucester,  observing  the  manner  of  tus  luftim,*- 
treated  that  he  would  keep  hie  discourse  very  secret.  This  MoniM 
promised  to  do,  and  faithhilly  kept  his  word  ;  but  honourably  imhsf 
to  flee  from  such  strong  temptation  to  his  integrity  and  loyalty,  hs  onri 
leave  of  king  Richard  to  visit  his  Irish  domaius.' 

•'  I'he  count  de  St.  Pol  had  been  sent  into  England  by  the  tafd 
France,  in  order  to  see  his  daughter,  and  learn  how  she  was  goin  * 
The  king  consulied  him  and  his  ancles  Idncastei  and  York  on  thi^tf* 
that  threatened  him  and  his  young  consort.  *My  good  uoclcs,'aidtir 
*  for  tlie  love  of  God,  advise  me  bow  to  act.  I  ain  daily  iiifurmed  ihu 
your  brother,  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  is  determined  to  seize  and  c«ab( 
me  for  life  in  one  of  my  castles,  and  that  the  Londoners  meaa  lo  fM 
liim  in  this  iniquity.  Their  plan  is,  withal,  to  separate  oiv  quew  RW 
me,  who  is  but  a  child,  and  shut  her  up  in  some  other  gilace  of  coafa^ 
menL  Now,  my  dear  uncles,  such  cruel  acts  as  these  tnut  bt  p^ 
Tented.' 

■'  The  dukes  of  Lnncsster  and  York  taw  that  ihnr  nephe^  m  a 
great  anguish  of  heart,  and  they  knew  that  what  he  said  was  «a^ 
true,  but  tliey  replied  to  this  effect: — 

" '  Have  a  little  patience,  my  lord  king.  We  know  weO  thai  im  hn- 
tbet  Gloucester  has  the  most  passionate  and  wrong-headed  tmnperW'sif 

'It  will  lie  rsmcinlMredlhBI  tliis prince  wsa  the  lieir-pre»iiin|itlra«>AA^^ 
ihr  gmnrtson  of  Lionel  of  CliirFn<!e.      A  (i^^ep  obscurity  nsu  cm  Uh 
and  oonduct  of  iba  piincei  of  ihe  blood  of  the  lti>e  ot  MottUnur  is 
tary-  '  He  wm  iDiui«  l(i[<t.depui;  (vioerogr}  <f 


■ran  in  England.  Ileiallis  frequently  of  ihiii^  he  raiinol  e«ciite,  ani. 
netiliLT  lie  nor  his  abetmrs  can  break  ihe  peace,  ihal  haa  been  signed; 
nor  auceoed  in  imprisoning  you  in  any  castle.  Depend  on  it,  we  wil 
Hver  nulfer  it,  nor  ihai  you  should  be  separated  from  the  queen.' 

"  By  ihcse  words  the  two  dukes  culmcil  kin^  RirhKni's  miml;  but  to 
■Toid  ln'iin  mlleil  on  by  eiilinr  pnrty,  llicy  left  the  king's  household 
wit})  tlirir  familife,  and  retired  to  their  own  cnsileit,  the  iluke  of  Lane^s- 
ler  Hiking  wiib  him  his  duchess,  who  had  for  sonic  lime  been  the  com- 
panion of  the  ynong  queen  of  England.  This  desertion  wm  followed 
by  sir  Thomas  Percy's  retirement  from  court,  and  surrender  of  his  office 
(if  steward  of  the  king's  hoiisehuld,  avowedly  out  of  apprehension  lest 
hr  should  incur  the  fate  of  sir  Simon  Burley.  The  king's  remaining 
-I'lvmits  very  frequently  represented  to  him  the  danger  of  reniaining  tn 
:liL'ir  ollices,  in  such  words  as  these: 

-■ '  Be  assured,  dear  sir,  that  as  long  as  the  duke  of  Gloucester  lives, 
'iicre  wdl  never  be  any  quiet  for  your  .  -     —     .._.. 

'■ii-  publicly  thrcalet  "" 


i 

si 


icedn 


EnelaiiH.  Besides, 
queen.  As  for  the  qticen, 
id  the  beloved  child  nf  the  king  of 
^  not  hurl  her,  but  inuny  evils  will 
These  repreacnialions  sank  deeply 
30II  after  led  lo  his  uncle's  violent 


s  young,  B 
I  nnce  ;  the  duke  of  Gloucester  dat 
If  Liriiig  on  you  aud  on  England.' 
::i  the  Miind  of  king  Richard,  and  s 
death." 

Whatever  were  the  ill  intentions  of  tlie  duke  of  Gloi 
dM  king  and  his  oflending  little  queen,  the  treacherous  manner  in  which 
luBg  Uichanl  lured  his  uncle  lo  destruction  must  revolt  all  minds ;  for 
every  He  of  hospitality  and  social  intercourse  was  violated  by  him.  In 
.    -  III  of  wickedness  was  combined  a  tissue  of  crimes.     This  lin<t 

:  ill  was  followed  by  the  illegal  execution  of  the  earl  of  Arundel, 
'ouscience  was  not  accustomed  lo  cruelty ;  and  after  the  deaiii 
_;    _L.      I'll  I  his  sleep  was  broken  and  his  pence  was  gone.     He  used  tn 
a«t  ulb  lii  horror,  exclaiming,  ■'  that  his  bed  was  covered  with  tlie  blood  _ 
of  the  enrl." 

The  hollow  peace  of  the  courl  was  soon  broken  by  the  quarrel  ( 
twecii  Henry  of  Boling broke,  heir  lo  John  of  Gaunt,  duke  of  Lancn^lfl 
miul  tlie  earl  marahal,  who  had  been  created  duke  of  Norfolk.     "" 
tntituAily  accused  each  other  of  treasonable  conversation  agninst  C 
king.    I"  the  true  spirit  of  i!he  age,  they  appealed  to  wager  of  battle, 
actually  presented  themselves  in  ihe  lists  at  Coventry,  when  the  1 
partrd  ihero  by  throwing  down  his  warder,  and  finished  the  seem 
wotcneing  Mowbray,  duke  of  Norfolk,  to  banishnient  for  life,  and  llenr 

Willie  Richard's  afiairs  remained  in  ihta  feverish  and  unseiikd  state^ 
the  Eiiei'*h  courl  was  thrown  into  consieniation  by  the  death  of  ihe 
beir-p(E«umpiive  of  die  kingdom,  Hoger  Mortimer,  who  was  at  that  time 
lord-drpuly  of  Ireland.  There  was  a  strong  atlachmeut  between  Richard 
i  bis  chivalric  heir;  the  king  passionately  bewailed  him, and  resolvtJ^ 
■  an  eipedition  to  Ireland,  to  quell  the  rebellion  ihul  ensued  o 
h  of  his  viceroy. 

5  def^ure  oL 


I 

I 


I 
I 


19  tBABELI.4    OF    VALOIS. 

proclaimed  ibron^hont  his  rcBlm.  that  a  grand  tanrnainent  wooU  b»  Ut 
■t  Winilsor,  by  foriy  kni^lits  snJ  foriy  squires,  ali  clad  ia  fraeD.btwi^ 
the  young  queen's  ilevice  of  a  wliite  Titlcoii.  Tliey  niaiutoiaL-d  ihe  bnev 
oT  ihe  virgin  queen  or  Eiiglanil  agsiDSI  all  cimpis.  Jsabelk  hnriC 
attended  by  tlie  nobieai  ladiea  and  diunifels  orihe  Und,  wma  prMtMLaJ 
dispensed  itie  prizes. 

King  Uichard  lurried  some  hours  a(  Windsor  Castle,  on  lii«  nrnttt 
the  nestern  coast,  in  order  to  bid  hia  young  queen  lkre«rell  btfaic  b 

deiMitcd  for  Ireland.     Allhoaa:h  only  eJeveo  years  of  sne. 

grown  IaII  and  very  lovely ;  she  was  rapidly  assuming'  a 
pearaiice.  The  kii>g  eeemed  greaily  stiuck  with  the  inpfun 
hex  perean,  and  the  progress  she  had  made  in  her  «daeaiicn.  Ik 
treated  her  with  the  utmost  deference;  and,  if  the  chrotiicln*  nf  kci 
country  are  to  be  believed,  he  entirely  won  her  young  heart  at  iliii  ia> 
lerriew.  Tel  he  had  sent  to  dwell  witli  lubclla  witi)es«es,»hnwfap 
grief  and  moumrul  liabilimenis,  for  the  loss  of  a  huaband  and  Um, 
could  have  toU  t)ie  young  queen,  even  if  their  lips  dar«d  ooi  tpA 
thai  the  king  had  stained  his  lionds  with  kindred  blood.  Accotdilf « 
Froisaart,  Richard  II.  had  eent  the  widowed  duchess  of  GloDceMiraJ 
her  daughters  to  reside  wiiJi  liiabella  at  Windsor;  apfMrtatlj' nlff 
■ome  specie?  of  re^iraini. 

Before  king  Kichatd  left  Windsor  Castle,  he  discoreml  that  cmmlti- 
able  reforms  were  required  in  his  coiiaorl's  establishment.  The  Ur4( 
Courcy,  hia  cousin-germ au,  was  her  govemesa  ajid  principal  kdy  ti 
honour;  hut,  on  his  arrival  at  Windsor,  it  wis  i^reaented  to  biiAilbtf 
(hia  lady  look  as  much  sUile  upon  her  as  if  she  lull  been  in  iha  ani' 
tion  of  her  mother,  the  princess  royal  of  England,  or  even  ih»  ^acM 
herself.  The  eKiravagance  of  tlie  queen's  governess  knew  no  txmU 
''  For,"  said  the  king's  uiformer,  ■*  slie  has  eighteen  hones  at  ber  «•»■ 
mand;  but  this  does  not  suttice;  she  has  a  large  Iraiii  faeluticing  to Iwt 
husband,  and  his  livery,  whenever  she  cornea  and  gnes.  She  koepi  Vf 
or  three  goldsmiihx.  two  or  three  cutlers,  and  twro  or  ihrm  Fuinti. 
constantly  cinptoyed,  as  much  as  you  and  your  qae«n.  Shv  it  ais 
building  a  clinttcl  that  will  cost  MOO  nobiea." 

Exasperated  at  this  exiiavagance.  the  king  diamiased  thn  Wr  ^ 
Courcy  from  her  office  in  the  queen's  establishmeDt ;  ba  paid  aH  tki 
debts  she  had  incuned,  and  commanded  her  to  leave  the  CoiUlU^  (iffb- 
with, — on  Older  she  certainly  disobeyed,  as  will  afterwards  b»  ■«(&  h 
the  place  of  this  laily,  llichard  appointed  the  widowed  lady  Mttrvrntt! 
who  was  his  own  niece  Eleanor ;  to  her  he  gave  ihe  preciofH  ekap  ^ 
his  fair  young  ronsorL 

The  scene  of  Kichard's  parting  from  Is^>elU  was  Wlndanr  cbnciL 
lie  liad  previously  assisted  at  a  solemn  mans,  and  indulged  his  tnasiBl 
tastes  by  chaniing  a  collect ;  he  likewise  made  a  rich  olfering.  Dn  Ih^ 
ing  the  church,  he  partook  of  wine  and  comiils  at  the  diior,  wtdi  I* 

'  MaiiatrDiM  and  ills  MS.  ot  the  Amtiauadca. 
■The  wbule   of  thii  pranee   i>  drawn   fivm   die   MS.  at  tlia 
Lad  J- Motiiiuei  wu  ELnuor  MdUbiuL 


i  Wales.  He  cnilured  ihis  it 
I  truih  a  ferthing^s  worih  of  viciuala 
Certee,  1  cannoi  lell  ihe  misen*  of 
■on.  He  then  returned  In  Conw«y, 
tite  from  his  wife,  of  whom  he  wm 
a  little  [Kicin,  ihal  the  king  composed 


V  ISABELLA    OF    VALOta.  10 

KtUc  consorl,  then  lifting  her  up  in  his  anns  he  kissed  her  rfpcalrdly, 
aayinj^.  "Adieu,  madame.  adieu,  till  we  meet  again." 

The  kin^  immediately  commenced  his  march  to  Bristol,  and  embarked 
on  his  ill-timed  expedition  lo  Ireland. 

The  landing  of  llenry  of  Bolingbroke  al  Ravenspiir,  during  Hichard^ 
absence,  had  an  immediate  eflert  on  the  declination  of  the  little  quaen 
laabelU  ;  the  regent  York  hurried  her,  from  the  casllc  of  Windsor,  10 
ihe  Blill  stronger  fortress  of  Wullingford.  where  ehn  remained  while 
Ensiaiid  was  lost  by  lier  royal  lord,  and  won  by  his  rivul,  Henry  of 
bolingbroke. 

AAer  landing  al  Milford  Haven  on  his  return  from  Ireland,  king 
Richard  took  shelter  among  ihe  Welsh  castles  siill  loyal  to  him.  Here 
he  tnight  have  found  refuge  till  a  re-aninn  in  his  favour  in  England 
gnrc  hopes  of  heller  limes;  but  the  king's  luxurious  hnbils  made  ih« 
rough  living  ai  ihsse  castles  inlnlcrable  to  him.  Indeed,  De  Marque 
decUres.  "  ihat  iliey  were  totally  unfurnished,  atid  ihai  Richard  luid 
ilMtp  on  straw  during  his  sojourn 
vmicnce  for  five  or  six  nights,  but  i 
waa  not  to  be  found  at  any  of  ihcm. 
ibe  king's  tmin,  even  at  Giemarv 
where  he  thus  bewailed  his  aliscr 
rery  fond."  The  following  seen 
ia  his  tribulation  : — 

■^  Aly  niistresa  and  my  consort .'  accursed  be  ihe  man  who  thus  eepa- 
ntrih  us ;  I  am  dying  of  grief  because  of  it.  My  fair  sister,  mv  lady, 
and  my  sole  desire!  since  1  am  robhed  of  the  pleasure  of  beholding 
ihec,  such  pain  and  alHiclion  oppresseth  my  whole  heart,  lliat  I  am  olV- 
liinrs  near  despair.  Alas,  Isabel !  rightful  daughter  of  France,  you  wera 
worn  lo  be  my  joy,  my  hope,  my  consolation.  And  now  I  plainly  see, 
Ihai  through  ihe  violeuce  of  fortune,  which  hath  slain  many  a  man,  I 
must  l>e  deprived  of  you  -,  whercai  1  often  endure  so  sincere  a  pang,  ihat 
day  and  tiighi  I  am  in  danger  of  hitler  deaih.  And  it  is  no  marvel,  when 
I  from  such  a  height  have  fallen  so  low,  and  lose  niy  Joy,  my  sohice, 
and  my  consort." ' 

Henry  of  Bolingbroke,  tl  is  said,  gained  poasession  by  a  coup-do- 
main of  700,000/.,  Ihe  treasury  of  ihe  unfortunate  Richard.  With  amaz- 
ing celarity  Hcnty  lraver«ed  England,  attended  by  silly  thousand  Lon- 
doners and  other  malcontpnW,  who  had  been  dismiated  with  Richard's 
drspniic  government,  With  this  disoiderly  militia  Henry  presented 
himself  liefore  the  gates  of  Flint  Castle,  where  Richard,  ami  a  few  fuith< 
ful  knighls.  remained  on  the  defensive.  Here  he  boldly  demanded  m 
audience  with  the  king,  who  agreed  to  admit  him,  and  eleven  other 
pUB  Ihe  wicket  of  the  castle.* 

Henry  "poke  aloud,  without  paying  any  hononr  or  laTerence  to  tlw 
king,  asking.  *>  Have  you  broken  your  last  i" 
^-     Tbe  king  answered,  ^  No,  it  is  yet  early  mom.    Why  do  you  aak  ?" 

HBtAf^aoliEin,  fium  ll»-  MS.  b(  «  Fienoh  gi 
^Klptuod  by  Um  U«v,  Mr.  W<!l>l.e. 


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ISABELLA    OP 


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'^  It  ia  lime  yon  should  breakrasi,"  replied  Heitr)',  ^(ar  yon  fam 
greni  way  to  riile."  "  Wbal  roail  ?"  asked  the  king.  ••  Ton  ntut  <raii 
U>  Loailon,"  said  Henry;  "-and  1  advise  that  you  eat  aiMl  dnakltnnlT. 
thai  you  luny  perforai  the  jouroey  more  gaily."  **  Well,"  said  the  tai{> 
>•  if  that  is  the  com,  let  the  tables  be  covered."  When  thia  vw  toct 
the  king  washed  his  hands,  seated  hiuiself  at  table,  and  wn  tniA 
During  the  time  the  king  was  eating,  whidi  was  not  long,  (ot  hi*  hnt 
was  much  oppressed,  the  whole  couoliy.  seen  rroni  the  windows  of  Ik* 
nistlc,  was  covered  with  men-at-arms  and  archera.  Tl)«  king,  os  ttiiif 
I'ruRi  Ihe  table,  perceived  iheoi,  and  asked  his  cousId  whoiheywaK 
•*  For  most  part  Londoners,"  was  the  answer.  "  And  what  da  <k(y 
want  i"  asked  the  king.  "  They  want  to  take  yna,"  said  Bewy,  "W 
carry  you  prisoner  to  theTowcr;  and  there  ia  no  pacifying  Uiaii,ndHi 
you  yield  yourself  my  prisoner." 

The  king  was  alarmed  at  this  intimation,  for  he  knew  tlie  Loiukan 
hated  him,  and  would  kill  him  if  he  were  ever  iu  their  power ;  bs  k»- 
fore  yielded  himself  prisoner  to  bio  cousin,  promisii^  la  do  wiatmi 
he  should  advise.  Uis  knights  and  officers  sufrendetcd 
llemy,  who,  ia  the  presence  of  the  eleven  that  accoiDponiaa 
t»iveil  the  king  and  his  altendonts  as  prisooera.  He  then  on 
horses  to  be  saddled  instantly  and  brought  inio  the  court,  and 
of  the  castle  to  be  flung  open ;  whereupon  many  archers  anii 
arais  crowded  into  the  couri-yard- 

**  I  heard,"  says  Froissart,  '^  of  a  singular 
just  then,  which  1  must  mention.  King  Richard  liad  a 
named  Math,  beautiful  beyond  description,  who  would  ihh 
follow  any  one,  but  the  king.  Whenever  Hichard  rode  abftMd,  tkt 
greyhound  was  loosed  by  the  person  who  had  the  care  irf  him.  sail  Aat 
iiiHlant  he  ran  to  caress  the  king,  by  pUcing  his  two  fate  fcM  on  Ut 
ehoulilers.  It  fell  uu[,  titat  as  the  king  and  his  cousin.  flesiyofllA- 
lingbfoke,  were  conversing  in  the  cnuri-yard  of  Flint  Castle,  tharbtnM 
being  preparing  for  them  to  mouni,  the  greyhound  Math  was  naiiii 
when,  instead  of  running  as  usual  to  king  Richard,  he  paaaod  ium,  a' 
leaped  to  Henry's  sliouliiers,  paying  him  every  court,  the  saas  w  bi 
tided  lo  hie  master,  the  king.  Henry,  noi  acquainted  with  this  grcc- 
huund,  asked  the  king  die  meaning  of  his  fondness. 

*■  ■  Cou»in,'  replied  ttie  king,  ■'  it  means  a  great  deal  for  yoa,  and  nrf 
litile  f'>r  nie.> 

"  *  How  P  said  Henry ;  '  pray  explain  it.' 

■■ '  1  uiiiler^tflnd  by  it,'  said  llie  unfortunate  king,  *  that  tfau  my  ^ 
muriie  greyhmmd  .Matli  foiidlea  and  pan  his  court  to  you  thif  day,  M 
king  of  Fii^bud,  whicli  you  will  be,  and  1  shall  be  drposetl,  tot  dot  ikl 
natural  mstinci  of  the  creature  perceives,  Keep  him,  tbcnfon,  bf  jVK 
«de ;  fi>r  lo,  he  leaveih  me,  and  will  ever  follow  yew ." 

"  Henry  treasureil  up  whai  king  Kichard  had  said,  and  pnd  aHMHa 
to  the  greyhound  Math,  who  would  no  more  follow  Richard  ot  9»f 
dcaux,  but  kept  by  the  side  of  Henry,  as  was  witnessed  by  thirty  tlwa* 


^m  tSABBLLA    OP     VALniS.  31 

Thp  atlenilaiila  of  king  Richard  (wlio  have  chronicled  the  huiiiilift- 
ikins  and  siilffti'iii^  of  their  royal  ma«ler,  on  this  pilgrimaif  "f  sorrow 
and  drcmdatinn,  with  a  more  intlignanl  pen  ilian  that  of  Froissari),  de- 
clatf  lliai  lo  friere  and  hreak  the  spirit  of  i)ie  ro)^!  captive,  hia  nn»> 
vpiriicd  horses  were  taken  rram  him,  and  he  was  compelled  lo  perrnrni 
BTcrT,'  stage  un  sorry,  miaerable  jades,  nol  worth  ten  shillings.  This 
was  a  deep  moriificatton,  since  among  the  king's  lumiues  an  expensive 
la>tc  fitr  noble  and  rosily  steeds  had  been  one  of  the  greolcsL  Perhaps 
thi*  vna  nftcr  the  king's  attempted  escape  ai  Lichfield,  where  be  dropped 
from  a  window  of  the  tower  in  which  he  slept,  but  was  perceived,  and 
brouelit  by  force  into  Lichfield  Cbstle  again.  As  far  as  Coventry,  parties 
of  the  king's  faithful  Welshmen  pursued  Henry  of  Bolingbroke's  army, 
sni)  harassed  its  rear.  They  were  instigated  and  led  by  Richard's 
beloved  squire  and  minstrel,  Owen  Glennnwer,  who,  from  ihe  hour 
when  his  rnynl  patron  became  the  prisoner  of  the  aspiring  Bolin^broke, 
vovfcj  and  maintained  a  lifelong  enmity  against  the  supplnnler  of  his 

The  yoime  fjueen  found  herself  in  the  power  of  the  usurper  almost 
Miniiliaiieou!>ly  with  her  unforlnnnto  hnsbiind.  Directly  the  news 
arrivetl  thai  Riehurd  had  surrendered  himself,  the  cBrrisons  of  the  royal 
easilcs  »f  Windsor  and  Wallingford  yielded  lo  Henry  of  Bolingbrok«. 
Tradition  declares,  thai  ihe  young  Isabella  met  her  Inekless  husbund  on 
the  Tmd,  during  his  sad  pilgrimage  towards  the  metropolis,  as  a  captive 
lo  llrnry.  and  that  their  meeting  and  parting  were  tender  and  heart* 
breaking;  bul  ihe  whole  of  Richard's  progress  has  been  uiinniely 
rieactibetl  by  eye- witnesses,  who.  it  may  be  thought,  would  nol  havt 
been  silenl  on  a  circumsutnce  so  picturesque  and  touching.  Tins  inter- 
view must,  ilierefiire,  be  considered  as  a  mere  romance  of  history,  ihough 
Shakapeare  has  made  use  of  it  with  beautiful  effect. 

In  the  midst  of  these  changes,  the  young  queen  was  hurried  from 
plore  to  place  witli  litile  resl.  From  WBllinglbrd  she  Ivan  carried  hf 
the  popular  jiarly  to  Leeds  Cn.vlle,  in  Kent,  where  she  was  placed  ut»]er 
Ihe  care  of  llie  widowed  duchess  of  Ireland,  who,  having  been  wronged 
by  king  Richard  and  his  late  queen,  was  nol  suppuseil  to  l>e  extremetf 
b'vinirablc  lo  [he  cause  of  ihe  imprisoned  monaich.  As  lady  de  Conrcy 
was  AisU'r  lo  the  duchess,  she  certainly  obtained  acccHS  to  the  queen 
strain,  notwiihsifuiding  her  dismissul  by  king  Birhard,  for  she  ' 
UinU  Castle  when  the  insurgent  Londoners  look  umbrage  i 
Tjeinily  to  llie  ipieen  of  Ricliacd,  and  one  of  their  leaders  tlius  addressed 
hrt: — 

•»  iMiVt  make  iuBlant  preporsiions  of  departure,  for  we  will  nol  suffer 
to  remain  longer  here.  Take  care,  on  saying  faiewell  to  queen 
'   (hat  yon  show  not  any  tokens  of  anger  at  our  dismiaaing  yot^  j 


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gAmuiig  Ih*  innat  UmiitiCul  'if  tlio  WtIbIi  ni<>l< 
atr,  ■  &WMt  Richard."  Tnulitjon  iIccIbiu  iliii 
ri  .wer  Hboat  lhl>  lime  m  a  ttibuta  of  kukx  io  liit  unlbrtunalc  r 
I'.-iwBnli  HinE  anil  plnyn)  in  Ibv  mnnr  riaiiiK>  ici  fiivnur  o(  Hicli 
ij.-  imwcrAil  effect  timt  llie  cclubraled  Jacobite  airs  liail  on  iJic 
uie  liuUM  of  Sluut 


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jSi  ISABELLA    OF    VALOIB. 

but  tell  her  that  your  husband  anii  daughter '  have  sent  to  entital  yotf 
raium.  This  we  advise  you  U>  do,  if  you  reganl  your  life.  Tou  onrt 
uk  no  rjuestions,  and  make  no  remarks  lo  (he  queen,  on  anything  Ifatf 
is  going  on.  Tou  will  lie  escoried  to  Dorer,  and  embarked  in  ihejM- 
Mge-boat  for  Boulopie,"  The  lady  of  Courcy,  alarmed  ai  tfaew  a^ 
naees,  uid  knowing  those  who  made  tliem  to  be  cruel  and  full  of  hMR^ 
replied, "  That  in  God's  name  she  would  do  as  they  directed." 

•■  Palfreys  and  hackneys  were  ruinished  for  herself  and  BtietRhMl*,i*d 
all  the  French  of  boili  sexes  were  sent  ofl?  The  French  htiuaehulJ  of 
the  i|ueen  bcin|^  thus  broken  up,  noue  were  left  with  her  tliat  wntalill 
attached  to  king  Richard.  A  new  retinue  was  formed  lor  htr,  of  bdiKr 
damseU,  and  varlets.  who  were  strictly  enjoined  never  u>  meniioo  l)w 
name  of  king  ItJcliard  to  her,  or  to  acquaint  her  with  what  was  bw 

It  is  nsaerted  by  all  authors  of  that  day,  that  the  heart  of  th«  jtm^ 
Isabella  was  devoted  to  Richard ;  the  chroniclers  of  her  oirn  counirr 
especially  declare,  ■'  that  he  had  behaved  so  amiably  to  lict  tlul  ■ 
loved  him  entirely."  While,  by  a  cruel  policy,  her  youthful  nund  wn 
torn  with  the  pangs  of  suspense,  and  the  pain  of  parting  from  beriwun 
attendants,  Rinhard  was  conveyed  from  Shene  by  night,  aud  ioiqti  "• 
creily  in  ihe  Tower,  with  such  of  his  friends  and  minisieiv  as  wen  fe 
cnliarly  obnoxious  to  the  Londoners. 

Adn'  enduring  many  mortifications  at  the  Tower,  king  RichanI  aSeiti 
to  resign  the  crown  lo  Henry  of  Bolingbroke,  who  immediately  repii>di 
^  h  is  necessary  that  the  tliree  estates  of  the  realm  should  hear  ihn  {im- 
position ;  and  in  three  days  the  parliamentH  will  he  collected,  and  as 
debate  on  the  subject.*'  So  far  bis  rejoinder  was  made  with  modeniMi 
and  propriety,  but  he  added — 

"  The  people  want  to  crown  me ;  for  the  common  report  in  tk«  e 
try  is,  that  I  have  a  better  right  to  the  cmwn  than  you.  This  »«  lM 
our  grandfather,  king  Edward,  of  happy  memory,  wlieit  he  educated  y< 
and  had  you  acknowledged  heir  lo  the  crown ;  but  his  love  wv 
strong  for  his  son,  the  prince  of  AVales,  nothing  rould  make  bim  tbn 
his  purpuw.  If  you  had  followed  the  exanifde  of  the  prince,  you  lai^ 
still  have  been  king;  but  you  have  always  acted  so  contrary, as  to  oet^ 
eioa  the  rumour  to  be  generally  believed  ihroughout  England,  ihilfM 
were  nut  tlie  son  of  the  prince  of  Wales,  but  of  a  priest  or  eaiHiii. 

'■  1  have  heard  several  knights  who  were  of  the  household  ot  «f 
uncle,  the  prince  of  Wales,  declare  that  he  was  jealous  of  the  cawtw 
of  ihe  princess.  She  was  cousin-german  to  king  Edward,  who  b(|pa» 
dislike  her  for  not  liaviitg  children  by  his  son,  for  he  knew  that  du  M 

'Tha  count  de  Cilly  wu  her  buiband,  and  Bsttsua.  de  Coiwcy  ha  ia^tr 
sA»rwaidi  empteu  ui  tbu  IhoiIidi  oi  Aaixe  of  Bghenuo,  Uic  greoi  iiip|»iiiif  %■' 
mund  ;  she  wai  heiieia  or  tie  Conrcj. — Brooiii. 

Either  FiniMuri  it  miaMken  in  lliis  asseilion,  or  Ibe  Ftcncb  wui^arfB* 
n  weni  replaced  by  Henrf  IV..  jbr  lli«  Minum  of  Coiwd)  OVMI*  ■ 
French  piraout,  ivlio  letunieil  lo  Franoe  Wilb  UaMti,  as  tUd^^ 
ti<ii»ebol(l. 
'f  minart,  and  M.SS.  o(  \lie  Xiu\»vnd.eL  ■ 


t^Mi  by  her  rormer  marringe  with  sir  Thomas  ITdIIrikI,  since  ht  had 

Mnsclf  stood  gotlfalher  lo  two.    The  prinress  of  Wales  knew  well  haw 

tvlcpep  my  uiK-le  in  lier  chiiiiis.  hitTing  iliroiigli  subil^ty  enticed  liim  to 

QBUry   her ;  but  fearful  of  Iwing  divorreil   by  the  king,  his  Taiher,  Tor 

^^■■1  of  heira,  and  tlial  Uie  prince  would  mnrry  ntniii.  ii  is  said  she  had 

^Km  ftnd  another  arm,  who  died  in  his  inlitney,  by  some  other  person ; 

HW  fi^tn  yonr  modes  of  thinking  and  nciin^f,  being  so  diSi^reni  to  the 

'  ^llaniTy  and  prowess  of  the  prince,  it  la  Ltiought  you  wrre  the  son  ofa 

pritst  or  canon.  Ibr,  at  the  lime  of  your  birth,  there  were  mrtny  young 

aiid  liandsoine  ones,  in  the  houBcholil  uf  my  uncle,  at  Banlcaiix. 

"Such  is  the  report  of  this  country,  which  your  conduct  has  cot^ 
fimteii ;  for  ynii  have  ever  shown  a  ^reat  affeciton  to  the  French,  and  a 
d^ifire  In  live  at  peace  with  ihem.  to  the  loss  of  the  hononr  of  England. 
Btrausc  my  unrie  of  Gloucester  and  the  giiod  earl  of  Arundel  gave  you 
gond  advice,  and  wiithed  you  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  your  ancea- 
lors,  you  hare  treacherously  put  ihem  to  deaih.  As  for  me,  I  will  gira 
foti  luy  proieciion.  and  will  guani  and  preserve  your  life  tltrongti  coin- 
paasiui),  as  long  as  I  shall  be  able."  ' 

For  two  hours  did  Henry  thus  cnnvorsc,  coniinuing  to  reproach  the 
FjUu  with  all  [he  wrong  he  had  ever  been  guilty  of.  in  the  whole  couiM 
HKkislifc.  He  then  look  leave,  rename r^  his  barge,  and  returned  lo 
Pl^p  house,  and  on  tite  morrow  renewed  his  orders  for  the  assembling  of 
Llujian 


A*  an  inlcrlude  to  the  narralire  of  FroJssarl,  which  details  the  deep 
dqtction  of  Richard,  the  accoimts  given  by  hie  faithful  attendant,  and 
the  maniiKcripi  of  the  Ambassades.  show  Richard,  at  intervals,  wiili  th« 
Ittjci-like  rlespair  of  the  Planlagenets  awakened  in  his  breast.  Sonietimo* 
ifH>  llioughu  of  his  young  wife  a  prisoner  like  himself,  and  perhaps  is 
a«}iHl  danger,  gave  rise  to  tempests  nf  rage,  before  whose  sway  the  ineo^ 
lance  of  the  nsurper  seems  to  have  quailed,  when  in  his  presence.  The 
tine  of  the  interview  here  described  must  hove  been  one  day  of  the 
three  which  intervened  between  the  conference  concerning  the  abdica- 
tion jnat  detailed  and  the  meeting  of  parliament. 

The  dukes  of  Vork  and  Aunierle.  and  Henry,  now  called  dnke  of 
LADcaJttrr,  went  lo  the  Tower,  and  sent  tlie  young  earl  of  Arundel*  to 
bid  lh«i  king  come  to  them,  oni  of  his  privy  chamber.  When  this  nwa- 
aagr  was  delivered  to  liicbnrd,  he  replied,  '*  Tell  Henry  of  l^ucuter 
fram  me,  I  ihall  do  no  such  thing ;  if  he  wants  lo  see  me.  let  him  coma 
lo  me."  On  entering  the  king's  afHirtineni,  none  sliowed  any  respect  to 
him  but  Henrj',  who  took  olf  his  cap.  and,  saluting  him  respectfully, 
aaiil,  ^  Here  is  our  cousin  the  duke  of  Aumerte,  and  our  uncle  the  duka 
(•{  York,  who  wish  to  speah  lo  you,"  Richard  raid,  "  Cousini  they  are 
III  '1  lit  to  speak  to  me.''  "  But  have  the  goodness  to  hear  ihem."  said 
I'  i>ry.    Upon  which  Richard  uttered  an  oaili,  and  said,  turning  lo  Ym-k,* 

riiou  villain !  what  wouldst  thou  sav  to  mc  ?  and  thou  traitor  of  Hut* 


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"      "■  id  left  him  r^Btiil 


I 
I 


land — thou  art  neiiher  good  nor  wortlir  lo  speak  la  me.  anr  to  bear  tha 
name  o(  Jukf,  earl,  nor  knight;  thou,  und  the  vilioiii  iliy  falhei.&uiUy 
have  ye  beireyeU  me;' in  acurseil  hour  were  ye  bora;  by  your  Ewe 
counsel  was  my  uiifle  Gloucester  pill  lo  d«aLli  !^'  AuEOrHe  irplird  lo 
the  king,  -'  tlial  he  lied,"  and  threw  dowa  hia  bonnet  at  hia  (en ;  npM 
whif-h  ilie  king  said,  ^'  I  am  hiiig  and  ihy  lord,  and  will  contioDa  kiafi 
and  be  greater  lord  than  1  ever  was,  id  spile  of  all  my  eacmie*  '^'  tfpM 
thia,  Henry  tiopoaed  «iIeDCe  on  Autnerle.  Ricbanl,  then  luniirig  willia 
fierc«  countenance  to  HenrV]  askeij  ■■  why  he  was  iu  coofifianiBiK,  aad 
whv  under  a  guard  of  armed  men  ?"  '-  Am  I  your  aemuit  ur  an  I  yoM 
'king  ?  What  do  you  mean  to  do  with  me  f"  Henry  replied,  "  Y«  M 
my  king  and  my  lurd.  but  die  council  of  the  realm  liave  licKrrnuncd  ihn 

Siu  are  to  be  kept  in  condnenient  tilt  the  decision  of  parliainem."  The 
ng  then  swore  a  deep  oath,  and  said,  "  I*ct  nie  hive  my  wife,''  "Ex- 
cuse me,"  replied  Henry ;  ^'  it  is  forhiilden  by  the  cuaocil  that  jitt 
ahoiild  see  queen  Isabel."  Then  the  Jiing  in  wnith  walked  abmuthi 
room,  breaking  into  passionate  exclanialions  and  ap|ie«la  lo  Unra, 
called  ihem  false  imiiura,  ollered  in  lighl  any  fuur  of  iliem,  tlircw  dowa 
hU  bonnet  as  a  gage,  spoke  "■  of  lus  lailier'a  and  his  grandiallier^  baa, 
and  hia  reign  of  twenty~ono  years."  Henry  of  l^tncast^r  then  feU  <■ 
his  knees,  and  besought  him  "  to  be  quiet  till  tlie  meeting  atft^' 


Before  the  meeiing  of  parliament,  this  burst  of  spirit  hail 
ieep  despondency.  Htsiorians  are  not  agreed  whether  tlie  aUiiniioa  of 
Richard  took  plac«  in  the  hall  of  the  Tuwer.  or  in  Weslminrtrr  UsIL 
Stow  declares  it  was  in  Weslniineier  Hall,  and  that  by  n  singuhff  eoii- 
cidence,  tbis  ceremony  was  the  first  solemnised  in  tliat  batlilinf,  nu 
its  new  erection  by  Ricliard.  The  parliament,  in  fact,  waited,  ■iliojin 
Westminster  Hall,  the  termination  of  the  fitllowing  scene.  Uew^ndi 
to  the  Tower  with  a  selected  number  of  prelates,  duked,  mb,  i^ 
kuighls,  and  dismounted  in  the  court-yard  ;  while  king  Riclianl,  imBr 
dressed,  with  the  sceptre  in  his  hand  and  the  crown  on  his  head,  eaicRd 
iKe  hall  in  the  Tower,  but  witliout  supporters  ou  citUer  side,  wluih  w 
his  iiauaj  state. 

He  then  addressed  tlie  company  as  follows  :  "  ]  have  reigned  kinii  tf 
England,  duke  of  Aquilaine,  and  lonl  of  Ireland,  about  tweiiiv-iwn  yea*; 
which  roj-alty,  lordship,  sceptre,  and  crown,  1  now  fi'ecly  and  wSJwglj 
resign  to  my  cousin,  Ilenry  of  Lancaster,  and  entreat  of  him,  ia  ito 
presence  of  you  all,  to  accept  of  this  scepife."  He  thvo  tnndpiMl  lb 
Hcejilte  to  Henry  of  Lancaster,  wbo  took  it  and  gave  it  l«i  i)iv  nrdil«JMf 
'  of  Canterbury'.  King  Kichatd  next  raised  up  his  crowo  with  both  to 
bands  from  his  head,  and.  placing  it  before  liim,  said, — 

"  Benry.  fair  cousin,  1  present  and  give  to  yon  this  crowik  villi  vUik 
I  was  crowned  king  uf  EugUad.  and  with  it  all  the  rtghia  d 
il."     Henry  of  Lancaster  received  the  royal  diadem,  and 
uver  to  the  arrhbishop. 

'Aumarle  bnd  jusi  surieiiJefaU  tlic  loynl  iiitif  of  Brinlnl.  iho  last  hufc  af  *W 
JnTortunale  king. 


I 


^B  ISABELLA    OF    VALOIS.  35 

Tlitu  was  ihe  resignation  mcceptetl ;  Henry  o[  LancaBter  calling  in  & 
public  notary,  thai  an  authentic  act  mighl  be  drawn  uji  of  this  procoed- 
isg.  which  was  wiinesseil  by  all  present.  Soon  afier  ihe  king  was  led 
back  to  the  aparlmetits  in  ihe  Tower,  from  whence  lie  had  been  con- 
ducti-d.  The  two  jewels  I  ihe  crown  and  acepire)  were  snfely  [meked  up 
uid  given  to  proper  giiarda,  who  placed  them  in  tho  treasury  of  Wes»- 
niinsler  Abhny,  until  they  should  be  needed.' 

The  news  of  ihe  rtvirainl,  in  which  the  young  queen  of  England  waa 
held,  liad  been  carried  by  some  merchants  of  Bruges  lo  ihe  coast  of 
France,  together  with  the  account  of  die  deposition  of  her  husband.  Bui. 
when  the  lady  de  Courcy  arrived,  who  bad  been  attached  to  the  house- 
hold «r  I»ibclla,  the  whole  truth  was  known.  Directly  she  ali^tcd  al 
ihe  hotel  of  her  lord  01  Paris,  ihe  king  tif  France  sent  there  to  hear  nevs 
of  his  dnngbier.  The  king  of  France  was  ho  much  shocked  al  ihe  ill 
lidingn  «hD  tnid  of  Isabella  and  her  btisbatid,  ihal  though  his  health  had 
ht^n  good  for  some  lime,  his  agitation,  on  hearing  of  his  daughter^ 
reverse  of  fortune,  broughl  back  his  fits  of  frenzy. 

The  duke  of  Burgundy  said,  "The  marringe  of  king  Richard  wilh 
lenbelU  was  unadvised,  and  so  I  declared  when  it  was  proposed.  Sines 
the  Eiiglisli  have  imprisoned  king  Richard,  tliey  will  assuredly  pul  him 
to  dmth ;  for  lliey  always  haled  him  because  he  preferred  peace  to  war. 
Tliey  will  as  certainly  crown  Henry  of  I^ncaster." 

This  prediction  of  the  queen's  uncle  proved  true.  During  llie  last 
days  of  September,  Henry  of  Lancasler  was  recognised  by  the  mojorjiy 
of  ihc  assembled  parliament  as  king,  and  was  magnificently  crowned  in 
Ocioher,  without  ihe  slightest  lecoguilioii  of  ihe  prior  claims  of  iha 
orphan  hciis  of  the  earl  of  March.  ^H 

While  this  revolution  was  ellecieil.  ihe  young  queen  was  removed  to    ^| 
SuflRing  Hilli  diBr«  she  was  kept  a  state  prisoner,  and  sedulously  mi»>    ^H 
ioforiDed  regarding  iho  events  ihat  had  befullcn  her  husband.     The  lut      ^^ 
hopes  of  kiug  Richard  had  ended  in  despair,  when  his  cousin  Anmerls 
had  yicldeil  the  loyal  city  of  Bristol,  and  his  brother-in-law  Huniingdon 
pive  up  Calais,  and  swore  feidiy  to  Henry  IV.     This  fealty,  however, 
only  lasted  six  weeks.     A  plot  was  eel  on  fiHit,  headed  by  Autnerle, 
Munlingduu,  and  Salisbury,  for  killing  Henry  IV.  at  a  tournament  they 
were  about  to  give  at  Wmdsor.     Henry,  whose  health  soon  broke  under 
the  anxieties  which  beset  the  crown  of  tliorns  he  had  assumed,  was  sick 
^SlrWindaor  Castle.    There  was  a  spiked  instrument  concealed  in  lii>    JH 
^^^^  for  the  purpose  of  destroying  him  when  be  lay  down  to  rest ;  ju    ^H 
^^BOttaction,  snys  the  monk  of  Evesham,  "  was  attributed  lo  one  of  th^    ^H 
V^Huttg  qURCu's  servants."  ^H 

Kiebnnrs  doom  was  now  scaled.  He  was  hurried  from  the  Tower  to 
Ponlcfmrl  Castle;  nimntime,  the  confederate  lords  llew  to  amis,  and, 

>Fr(ii»nn.  Tliii  nnirHtiTa  it  in  s-erfefft  u"iw>n  wilh  Hie  ancipnl  Iswiand  mifc  ^^ 
BaM  or  EnKlnnil.  wliivb  oflnlniMl  tlial  Si.  F^Jword'l  Diown  Hiid  reKnlin  should  ^H 
^^^^  div  kraplng  of  ttie  slitxil  of  Weatmintter.  ^H 

^K      VOL.UI.  — 8  ^^M 


I 
I 


I 

i 


dreeing  Dp  king  Richard's  rliaploiii.  AfBiidelain,'  in  royal  ndM 
claimed  Uiai  the  tlepowil  king  had  esca]>e<l  from  his  gaolcfs. 

Tiie  young  qupcn  Isabella  look  an  eiirannlinitry  pan  in  thta  mm- 
mcnt  for  the  reslunitian  of  her  busbnnd.'  When  the  rails  of  Kaiod 
Salisbiirv  carne  with  their  rorres  to  Sunning  Hill,  where  sb«  ira*  abidi^ 
thev  tnid  her  '^  ihey  hail  driven  the  uaiiiper.  Bulingbrokc,  from  Viaiui 
to  the  atro[igh(ild  of  the  Towi^r,  and  thai  her  hustiiuul  hod  CMapsd,  nd 
was  thea  in  full  march  to  meet  lier  al  llie  bead  of  a  huadmJ  tboaaad 
men."  Overjoyed  at  this  news,  the  young  que«u  |>ut  liccMlf  tiibH 
disposal.  Slie  likewise  took  great  pleasiiro  id  onletiue  ihe  twigcs  rf 
Henry  IV.  to  be  lom  from  her  household,  and  replaced  by  tliowi  at  te 
royal  husbuod  -,  ia  which  ^  harmless  spite,"  says  Hay  ward.  ^  the  fNCi 
Isabel  tuok  the  utmost  saiislaction."  A  pioclamaiion  won  likerai 
issued  in  lier  name,  doclaiijig  "  thai  she  did  not  recognise  Henc^  otlt^ 
caster  as  king."  The  queen  then  set  out  with  her  brotber^iMaw.  fa 
turl  of  Kent,  and  his  allies,  on  their  march  lo  Wallingfoni  ami  Almgilt. 
Full  of  jiiyful  hope,  the  entbusiasiic  girl  etpected  every  ktiut  U  ami 
her  king  triauiplisnt  at  the  head  uf  a  loyal  nrmy.  She  wm  wkb  di 
buruns  when  they  entered  the  fatal  town  uf  Cirencester;  bui.  amiikltta 
mysterious  durluie.ss  which  shruuds  the  termination  of  Uiis  insnnwtida, 
wc  lose  sight  of  the  actual  manner  in  which  the  young  qiit^n  ««  n- 
captured  by  Henry  IV.  Let  fortune  have  declared  fur  wluitcvsr  ptrtyil 
might,  disappoiiiiinent  alone  was  in  store  for  the  heart  of  l^wlk,  ma 
the  Ricltanl,  whom  she  hoped  to  meet,  was  but  a  counterfeit  ia  nml 
robes  to  deceive  the  common  people.  The  chiefs  of  the  instimsra 
were  betrayed  by  the  mayor  of  Cirenr«ster,  and  their  BumnuTy  ewoliai 
followed  in  a  few  hours.  Isabella  was  loo  young  lo  be  punisheil  lorhe 
share  in  litis  rebellion,  excepting  by  close  resirainL  She  was  srat.  aftfl 
quiet  was  restored,  strictly  guarded,  lo  the  palace  of  Haverine  aiie  BoWK 
and  this  appears  to  hare  been  her  place  of  residence,  ditriog  the  iapai 
eveiiis  Ehat  succeeded  the  insurrection,  in  which  she  look  a  pMt  « 
deciiled,  considering  her  tender  age. 

These  transactions  took  place  at  the  end  of  January,  and  ibe  big^ 
ning  of  February,  1 100,  when  the  insurrection  was  subdued ;  ii  bseui 
a  luvnurile  topic  of  conversation  between  the  knighls  and  lords  of  Ilea* 
ry^s  bed-rhamber,  who  always  concluded  by  observing  OD  the  iflipo» 
biliiy  thai  Henry  IV.  should  reign  peaceably  while  Richard  II.  ww  td- 
fered  lo  exist.  The  wily  king  gave  no  inlinistion  that  ho  hnrd  ihm 
colloquies.  After  an  abortive  invasion  by  the  eoniit  dc  St.  Pol,  ItidnflA 
brother-in-law,  the  king's  flatterers  and  templets  beset  hin  mon  dfl 
ever. 

"  Yet,"  says  Proissart,  emphatically,  "  the  king  of  EngUoil  imJt  M 

'  Br  wu  riceetlinsly  like  Ricbaid,  and  9U|)po*ciJ  lo  Ik  an  illi  ^iiiiwH  ■■*( 
royal  hmily ;  bs  wiu  iniplicat<>il  in  L)ie  illc^l  exwubua  of  lb*  ilsla 
of  GkiucMter.  He  had  odhoieil  lo  Kinluuil  wiili  tlie  utuuist  fid<lnx,  lisa  Hi 
tsnilinv  in  W&lcs  till  hii  csptore  si  Flint. 

■  Gtilhtie  and  FroiesirL  Sir  Jotui  Hafward,  p.  137,  edition  I  SMl  tU  mf», 
■ha  insurgent  lorilicama  Id  tlie  iiueeii  finm  Oilnebcook  to  Siui)liig,a,fllMS^ 
"-'■'.ing.  I 


ISABELLA    OP     VALOIS.  37 

Hit,  leaving  ihprn  in  conversation,  went  to  his  falconers,  tod 
a  fftlron  on  liis  wrist,  forgot  all  in  feeding'  him."  Froismrl  is 
courtier  m  acknowled^  that  so  accnmplishril  n  knig^hi  m  Henry 
carter  ordered  eo  foul  a  murder;  but  other  historians  do  not 
that  Henry  forgot  all  while  feeding  his  falcon. 
rt  are  so  tunny  circumstantial  details,  in  ttie  narrative  of  old 
f  concerning  the  deaik  of  RichanI  II.,  that  there  is  liiile  doubt  of 
'le  true  history  of  the  murder  of  the  unhappy  Icing.  Frois- 
■  i^iveii  the  opening  or  prologue  of  the  Irt^edy  ;  but  ilie  follow- 
ttion,  gathered  from  Fabian  and  others,  tells  the  manner  in  wliicli 
played  out. 

:  Henry,  sitting  one  day  at  table,  in  a  sighing  manner  said,  "  Have 
thful  friend  who  will  deliver  me  of  one  whose  life  will  be  my 
mil  whose  death  my  life  ?"  "  This  speech  was  much  noted  of 
ttn,  especially  by  one  sir  Piers '  of  Exton.  This  knight  left  thn 
ind,  with  eight  persona  more,  went  suddenly  to  Fontefract  Castle ; 
t  being  come,  he  called  before  him  the  squire,  who  w'as  Bccns* 
Id  wait  on  Kichard  at  table,  giving  him  a  charge  '  that  the  king 
IS  mnch  as  he  would,'  for  that  now  he  should  not  long  eat.* 
bchard  being  eet  at  dinner  was  served  negligently,  and  without 
(■1  ceremony  of  lasting  the  dishes,  before  he  commenced  his 
ftichonl,  marvelling  at  this  sudden  change,  asked  the  reason,  and 
ll  that  new  orders  had  been  given  by  king  Henry  to  that  efTecl. 
e  devil  take  llt^nry  of  Lancaster  and  thee  together !'"  exclaimed 
g  iu  a  |Nuwion,  airiktng  llie  man  with  a  carvuig-kuife.  On  tbat 
It  rualied  sir  Piers  Exion,  wiili  eight  tall  men,  every  man  having 
M  ill  his  liand.  Kictiard,  perceiving  theni,  put  the  table  boclt 
nil  and  stepping  up  to  the  man  next  him,  wrung  the  weapon  out 
Ittiid  (a  brown^jtl),  and  iherewitb  right  valiantly  defended  hiu- 
t  that  in  conclusion  four  of  them  he  slew  ontrighL  Sir  Piera, 
I  thereat,  leaped  upon  the  chair  where  king  Richard  usually  sat 
Wtfaorilies  say  it  was  a  curiously  carved  stone  chair) ;  while  with 
If  surviving  ru/Tians  the  king  was  fiercely  striving  for  conquest, 
ising  diem  rouud  the  chamber,  he  passed  near  to  the  chairs 
D  sir  Piers  had  gotten,  who  willi  a  pole-axe  smote  him  on  the 
r  the  head,  and  withal,  ridded  him  of  his  life  in  an  insianL'* 
I,  battling  like  a  champion  of  proof,  in  the  full  exerciKe  of  aiight]r 


was  a  lord  mayor,  one  of  Richard's  oppturrs,  c 


,'b  E'anilxui. 

«mtiKalt  coiiloi.  , 
1X11  Til*  xrtuxrf  iMHii^p  uin  cnuiiiinlfl  Bllcn^e  of  FroiHn 
la  jKiini  ai  iniinler  iiion(lr,  but  tlioy  fpaab  U  OM. 


^^^■^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^V 

HjM                                      ISABELLA    OP 

^r    raer^M  awakene))  at  liie  call  of  ilcspair,  f«ll  ihe  son  of  ihr  I 

■  (be  miiuls  ol'liis  combative  uoblea,  lo  have  aBpergetl  llie  <.u;i.       .....,-, 

■  macy,  with  which  his  rival  roully  tainwd  him.     We  hur  iio  inof*,  u> 
^H       rJironicle.  of  his  being  the  son  of  a  priesU 

H           <*  iUcbard  of  Bonlenui,  when  dead,  was  placed  on  s  lilirr  rovonl 

■  with  black  cloth,  and  a  canopy  of  the  nune.     Four  blaek  liorm  «m 
^1       harneneJ  to  it,  ami  four  varleU  in  mourning  conducted  the  lintt,  U- 

W       less  one  of  the  kuielils,  and  ihe  varleta  the  worthy  sunrivots  of  RidmN 

they  came  to  the  Chepe ;  which  is  the  greatest  thoroughfare  in  ibr  rig. 
and  there  they  halted  for  upwards  of  two  hour*.     Mure  tlian  iHcoit 
thousand  persons  came  lo  see  king  Richard,  who  lay  in  the  littn,  bit 
head  on  a  lilaek  cushion,'  and  his  lace  uncovered."' 

Thus  was  queen  Isabella  left  a  widow  in  her  lliiTteenih  ytu;  tbi 
death  of  her  royal  lord  was  concealed  from  her  a  constdenitib!  am: 
but  she  learned  the  murderous  manner  of  it  soon  enough,  lo  ifjeci  mvi 
horror  all  offers  of  union  with  the  heir  of  Lancaster.     Young  m  ^h 
was,  Isabella  gave  proofs  of  a  resolute  and  decisive  chancter;  iniu<4 
firm  and   faithful   afleclion  were  shown   by  this  yomliful  ipieen,  wbirii 
captivated  the  minds  of  the  English,  end  caused  her  to  be  matle  lb 
heroine  of  many  an  historical  balLid, —  a  species  of  limntiire  that  A« 
people  of  the  lard  much  delighted  in  at  that  time. 

fit  of  insanity ;  brought  on  by  anxiety  for  his  daughter's  fiue.    TV 

1 

bably  to  conceal  any  BccWental  effusion  of  blood. 

but  ibe  (hoe."    Thiis,  aliboiigh  the  body  wu  exposed  to  the  »lew  cl  iSr  ;ic^to» 
in  all  tlie  lowm  llinni^  which  it  pasted,  as  wvU  dj  in  tlie  mru 
cODid  pouibly  EUOMIain  what  woundj  were  on  the  hend.     'lu. 
ptaiul/iNnnt  out  the  peculiar  maonec  ofRkhard's  d«uh.     Tia.!. 

Iflyal  cuile  of  Ponlefraci  wm  dilapidated  by  CromweH.     "  Wc  -=...,-^1  ;  j;  ..^ 

Mrenph.  simatiao.  and  largeneu,  may  compare  wilh  soy  in  Ihe  kkn^doa.    b 
Ibe  cin-'Uil  of  Ibii  caslls  are  aeveo  faounu  Xoutn;  the  higbut  at  Uien  it  ^U 

poll  till  hii  baibuoBi  bulchen  deprived  him  of  lifB.     Vvon  Um  , 
haddvgi  andfiira  bbw  do  ,m  rtmain.     Wp  viewed  tbe  ;p«i<  u- 

aod  aaw  llic  cbanilier  oT  presence,  the  king  ard  ijUMn's  cbair.i.  r 
^—          and  many  other  room*,  all   fit  and  niiinble   for  princes, '■ — Brufi-\  .  -t^^&w 
^       iftutfrntor."  p,  IM.     The  Bound  Tower  i>  by  Weaver  (Fowr.!  iJ™«™.j 
H      MlW  -  .be  BUdy  Tower,"  be  «.y*  by  tnuli.ion  of  tbe  wurtiy  |k<vU  •>  * 
^m      tWoK/,  in  meiwiij  of  ibe  nitirdei  of  Riobanl  a 

' 

ywiBif  quMii,  but  lleary  IV,  wnuUI  not  hear  of  it,  answering,  **  thM  «hff 
fthould  reside  in  li^gland  like  oilier  qiieeD-iluwngcr!!,  in  e^i^Dt  honour) 
w  livr  dowcr^  anil  thai  if  »lie  hnu  unlorkily  loit  a  hutliaiul,  she  should 
b«  provided  witli  anulher  forthwith,  who  would  be  young,  hanilflomc, 
ami  evrry  way  deserring  of  her  love.  Richard  of  Bordeaux  was  loo 
old  for  her,  hut  the  person  now  olTeroil  was  suitable  in  etery  reepwt; 
beitig  no  other  than  the  prince  of  Wales."' 

It  aeenis  strange  that  Jsabella,  who  had  exprefwed  such  infant  pri<!e  in 
beiii^;  queen  of  England,  should  give  up  voluntarily  all  prospect  ofenjojr- 
log  that  ■tation,  with  a  youthful  hero,  whose  age  was  so  suitable  to  her 
own ;  yet  so  it  was.  Bui  she  was  inflexible  in  her  rejection  uf  the 
gkllant  ilenry  of  Monniouih,  and  mourned  her  murdeied  husband  in  a 
moinnFT  exceedingly  louchnig,  as  all  who  approached  her,  Fieneh  of 
tnglish,  bore  witness."'  Her  refusal  would  have  been  of  ijiile  avail,  if 
her  family  and  country  had  not  seen  the  matter  in  the  same  ligiit  In 
reply  to  Henry  IV.'s  proposition,  the  French  regency  declared  •'ihal 
liming  tb«  grievous  illness  of  their  lord  king  Churles,  they  cuuld  not 
give  away  his  eldest  daughter  without  his  consent."  I'herefore,  uionihs 
jHtmed  away,  and  the  maiden  queen-dowager  atill  continued  u  inuuming 
widow,  in  the  bowers  of  Havering.  It  is  recorded  that  king  Htnry  and 
hi*  gsllani  heir  did,  in  that  ijiterval,  all  in  their  power  to  win  her  con> 
siaxit  bcnrt  liom  the  memory  of  Richard,  but  in  vain.  She  was  just  of 
the  age  to  captivate  the  lancy  of  an  ardent  young  prince  like  Henry  of 
Momnouih;  nor  can  there  exist  a  doubt,  by  the  extreme  perttnacrly 
with  which  he  wooed  the  widow  of  his  cousin,  tliat  she  was  belovra 
by  bin).  However  this  may  be,  the  modern  paradox  of  Iticlwrd  ll.'a 
escape  from  the  bloody  towers  of  Pontefract'  is  utterly  annihilated,  by 
the  continual  elG>rts  of  Henry  IV.  to  gain  the  hand  of  Isabella  for  his 
son.  "  Would  Henry,"  asks  an  historical  aniiqaBry,  in  the  Archeologia, 
"  have  U-en  so  desirous  for  the  marriage  of  his  heir  with  the  wiilow  of 
Rit^snl,  had  he  not  been  certain,  beyond  all  doubt,  tlint  her  husband 
was  dead  i"  He  would  not  surely  have  pronioteil  a  murriuge,  which 
would  have  diegitimaled  the  heirs  of  Lsnrasler.  This  is  one  of  the 
hiatDfical  proofs  of  a  disputed  poiut  which  appeals  directly  to  common 
■oiae. 

Wlien  Charles  VI.  recovered  His  senses,  he  sent  the  eouiii  d'Albret  to 
inquire  into  tlie  situation  of  IsaliC'lla.  King  Henry  and  liio  ruuncd  were 
ai  Eltham,  where  the  French  ambassador  was  splendidly  enieititined  by 
him.  He  told  Henry  he  had  been  sent  by  the  king  and  queen  of  Fraatv 
to  »c«  tJie  young  queen  their  daughter.    The  king  replied — 

■•  We  no  way  wish  to  prevent  you  from  seeing  Tier,  but  you  must  pro* 

•FroiHvi.  ■Moii»tifl...i. 

■  Toe  much  ilte*!  )iu  been  laid  (by  ihme  who  have  worknl  IxirU  lu  prove  thil 
(■mdoi]  on  iho  foot,  tliat  Blobard  t  ihull  wu  Touud  ontiie,  wlicii  bii  unnb  waa    ' 
•■HtrilMil  in  WeitiniiuiFt  Atibry,     Let  ihe  snliciiuuie*.  huwuTct,  contult  med^ 
eal  avihoTiti».  ariH  ibi^)'  will  And  ilinl  iaitanl  dralh  mar  eniui*,  rroni  a  ooddi 
■■DO  on  the  brain,  without  Ilie  bune  o(  iha  lieail  being  braked  j  Biul  how  easy 
WM,  if  ths  king  hail.  indr»d,  been  only  ([onnrd,  Ibr  hi*  smiHiini  lo  <'i»ii[i|< 
*ip>  nOMh  and  oMirlli,  m  lliat  llie  tolum  of  rospira'ion  wb«  pinveouU  I 


I 


I 


I 
I 


mise,  on  ftath,  lliat  neither  yoiirself,  nor  any  of  your  company,  ipni  a 
lier  any  tiling  cnnccmin?  Richard  of  Bocileuux.  Shouh!  you  do  oiiie> 
wise,  you  will  ermtly  olletiil  us  and  tile  whole  couiiuy,  autl  reuuiu  m 
peril  of  your  lives  while  here." 

Nat  long  after  ihisi  the  earl  <>f  Northumlierland  csrrieil  mum  d'Albict 
to  Haveriug  sue  Bower,  where  Isabella  then  resided.  She  wat  ■ileaJnl 
by  the  duchess  of  lieland,  (he  duches?  of  Gloucciter,  hei  tvo  ikut^ 
ten,  aed  other  Indiea  and  diunaela  as  companiorie.  The  ecul  intradoa^ 
the  Freni-h  embasfy  to  ihe  youn^  C|ueen,  who  conversed  aotne  linw  wnk 
llienu  askiitg  engerly  many  questions  afier  her  ruynl  parcnU.  Thiy 
kept  till!  pfiuite  iliey  had  inaile,  by  never  mentioniiig  kiog  Richti^lM 
ratnrneil  lo  Loudon  after  a  short  interview.  Al  ElihaiUi  on  iheir  mjr 
homCi  they  dined  with  k.in^  Henrj~,  who  presented  them  with  some  neb 
jeweb.  iVlien  Ihey  tooli.  leave,  he  said  amicably,  "Tell  those  who 
sent  you  (hat  llie  queen  ehatl  never  auder  the  sniallcst  hnrni,  or  any  ili*- 
tnrbance.  but  shall  keep  up  a  slate  and  dignity  becontiag  her  btrin  ni 
nnk,  and  enjoy  all  her  rights ;  for,  young  as  she  is,  she  ought  SM  W 
be  made  acqtuinted  with  all  the  changes  that  happen  in  ihis  woHd."' 

The  council  of  Henry  ]V.  meantime  amtiously  delibcisied  on  Uwilt^ 
tination  of  tlie  young  queen.'  Ii  conie  at  last  to  the  tlecbion.  that  Iw 
bellEi,  heiiis  of  tender  a^^e,  had  no  riifhl  to  claim  revenue  aa  qneen-duW' 
^er  of  England ;  liul  ihai,  as  no  accommodation  could  be  c&cttd  hj 
the  marriage  with  the  prince  of  Wales,  she  ought  to  be  realared  to  ber 
frienda  directly,  witli  all  the  jewels  »iid  paiaphern«lia  tbal  she  broii(hl 
with  her.'  But  on  this  poini  a  grand  dilJiculty  arose,  for  Henry  IT.latd 
■eised  the  little  tgueen's  jewels,  and  divided  them  among  hi«  six  chiUm. 
the  prince  of  Wales  havuig  the  greatest  sliare.  The  kirig  wrote  lo  h> 
nouncil  decLuing  '*  that  he  hud  coininiuided  his  sou  and  other  dHUm 
to  give  up  the  jewels  of  their  dear  cousin  queen  Isabeiln,  and  thai  i^ 
were  lo  be  sent  to  London.^'  But  intention  and  p«rforniuice  ve  mt 
diflerent  niai(er«,  for  that  "  the  dear  cousin's  jewels"  were  never  tcunicd 
we  have  the  evidence  of  the  queen's  uncle,  Orleans,  and  the  Fmrk 
treaties  between  Henry  V.  and  Charles  VI.*  Nor  are  ihey  named  wiik 
h«r  property  sp>ecilied  in  her  journey  to  Leiilinglieti ;  yei  iu  the  acbedilf 
her  silver  drin king-cup.  a  few  silver  saucers  and  dishes,  with  a  liolt  i4l 
tapestry,  are  pompously  enumerated,  it  is  worthy  of  rainark,  to  ibo* 
the  extreme  pareimony  of  Henry,  tliat  an  item  demondit^  nvw  ikA^ 
for  the  young  queen  and  her  uuuds  of  honour,  with  dotli  for  ibev  ctar- 
Kttes  or  cliariuts,  is  sharply  met  by  the  answer,  ^  iluit  the  lung's  «ud- 
robe  had  given  out  aU  that  he  intended." 

Queen  [rubella  set  out  fur  London,  May  i7,  accompanied  by  t«* 
ladies  of  the  royal  tarn ily,  who  had  both  received  great  tnjiina  frw 

■For  Oih  inrormalion  and  ttie  rest  of  the  faeu  follawms.  wa  ore  In^Md* 
sir  Harris  Nicr'lua'  invaluable  adition  of  ilie  SlinuiH  of  tlio  Priiv  CewiL  nAk 
pp.  118-134,  Hi. 

*Sm  p.  lU,  wbore  a,  deicripiioD  is  ^voD  cf  ber  rcAtet,  rhJ  aa  •atbnaa  tf  fli 
waJne  oT  iuc  jewels.  ■  Rapin,  roL  i.  Ucnn-  V.'a  n%^ 


ISABELLA    OP     VALOtI 


SI 


Kcfmnl  n.'  The  dur.heas  of  Ireland  was  one,  and  the  countess  of 
Herefoni'  (mother  lo  llie  duchess  of  Gloucester,  the  widow  of  the 
■tkngluern]  Thomas  of  Woodstock),  the  other.  To  these  ladies  was 
cmuigned  the  care,  or  rather  the  custody,  of  Isabella'd  person.  Tha 
sweetness  of  this  angelic  girl's  ihsposition  hod  certainly  converted  tliesa 
natural  enemies  into  loving  friends,  as  will  presently  be  shown.  Next 
in  rmnk  to  these  great  ladies  in  the  train  of  Isabella  was  Eleanor  UoUaud, 
the  young  widow  of  Ro^r,  earl  of  March,  slain  in  Ireland,  whose  soq 
was  heir  of  England  dt  jure  ;  she  had  been  appointed  governess  to  tho 
qut-eii  by  Itichard  11.,  and  siill  adhered  lo  her,  though  merely  claeseil 
now  among  her  Indies  of  honour ;  the  other  ladies  were,  lady  Poioinga, 
lady  Mowbniy,  end  Madame  de  Vache.  Isabella  had  likewise  seven 
iBaida  of  honour,  and  two  French  chambermaids,  Simonette  and  Mari- 
ftBoe:.  The  French  chamberlain  was  Monsieur  de  Vache.  She  had  a 
ocMifeesor  anil  a  secrciary.  She  was  escorted  by  the  bishops  of  Durham 
■nd  Hereford,  and  by  the  earl  of  Somerset,  Henry  IV.'s  half-brother, 
with  four  kniglits  bannerets  and  six  chevaliers. 

With  this  train  and  escort  the  young  queen  set  out  from  Havering,' 
At  Tolienham  Cross,  she  was  met  by  the  late  lord  chamberlain,  the  earl 
of  Worcester,  with  a  gallant  company,  who  joined  her  train.  The  lord 
mayoi  and  his  viscounts  (as  the  aldermen  were  then  called),  with  other 
food  people  of  the  city,  met  her  at  Saiidford-hill,  and,  falling  in  with 
ber  procession,  guardeil  her  to  London.  At  Hackney,  prince  Thomas, 
Kcond  son  to  Henry  IV.,  met  the  young  queen,  and  honourably  accom' 
puiiMl  her  lo  London,  assisted  by  the  constable  of  England,  tlie  marshal, 
and  other  great  ollicers. 

It  is  supposed  Isabella  tarried  at  Ihe  Tc 
don  entry,  for  she  did  not  sail  for  Fra 
three  bal lingers  and  two  armed  barges 


I 


T  from  the  day  of  her  Loi>. 
i  till  July  1st  followin^t,  when 
re  appointed  to  receive  her  and 


■  far  advanced  before  the 
a  hor  parents;  during  which 
Uis  in   their  power  (i 
y  of  Richard,     But  her 
r  rafusal.  remained  the  same ; 
dinory,  and  her 
twenty-eight  thi 


1  widow  of  Richard  H.  » 

Henry  fV.  anil  his  son  Hied    , 

diake  her  chihlish  eonsiaucy  to  i 

steady  aversion,"  as  Moiisirelei  caila   I 

of  this  child  was  extnioi^  I 


ness,  more  probable  in  a  royal  heroine  of    I 
>  had  seen  liide  more  than  half  ns  monf  1 


'Sec  preceding  voliimf,  memoir  ofAnne  of  Bohemia, 

*1li9  iBily,  calM  couutoti  ofllercrorrl,  was  tlio  mother  of  the  co-heireSMi 
Hcrelbril.  tin  duBhera  of  Gloucester,  and  Mnry,  the  rlKcDHwi  wift  of  die  imir.  ._    , 
Utatf  IV.    Tba  doohau  of  GUniwMer.  wlio  hut  heen  in  the  fltmily  of  Iwbella, 
*    1  iaiBly  loM  hcT  pRimi>in(  son,  liy  tlia  pl>)^ifl,  snit  ha<I  died  of  grief.     Her    i 
ar,  liii<  DOOUtBH  of  Herelbrtl,  wii>  Uio  grandmoilier,  by  tlie  mal'-tnal  lido, 

It  this  dowvr-pnlnoe  of  iha  Engliili  queens  ai  ber  Inlesl  reii- 
■lo  ihai  Kine  political  rcaun  miKl>t  hnva  inadi-  Isabella's 
il  itiniuKh  WnliliiuD   (hioit.  anil   IoJkb  "t  Wnliliaiii   huiilin([  i>B)aoe , 
.  ■Itn  miiflil  niD«  Itio  Loa  lo  gain  tin  ooilli  roaul  iniHad  of  tlie  aaal  rcsd,  lot 
kar  tsouiM  wiu  plainly  by  TottoiiIiiunJiill,  aod  her  enmitos  into  Londoo  bjp 
ittokuey.— Soa  Miaaia  of  /V»y  Craanf,  vol.  i.  p.  US. 


I 

I 
I 


ISABELLA    OP    VALOtS. 

suRimfrra.  At  lanx.  Use  usurper  resolveil  lo  restore  the  yonti^  irido*  lA 
Fnnc?,  bui  refuseil  lo  return  her  dowry,  saying,  that  as  b  gnat  faWNf 
he  wfiuld  agree  lo  dedurl  its  amount  fram  ihe  sum  total  thai  Fnaee  nU 
(ra-ed  Engiaiid.  Tor  the  ntnsom  o(  king  John.  The  Jewels  of  the  J<mf 
queen  h«  likewise  retained,  although  it  was  expressly  siipolBt«d  bjr  ibt 
will  of  king  Richard  that,  in  case  of  his  ileaih.  the  rich  jewels  hit  liilb 
wife  had  hiought  rroin  Fnuice  should  be  restored  to  her.     Hmry  eoM 

l  plead  ienor&nee  of  hia  cou9in''s  testament,  sinre  the  poor  iMf*  will. 
while  he  nax  yet  nlive,  had  been  broken  open  to  furnish  Kniclea  often- 
ntion  ni^inst  him.' 

The  roval  virgin  was  approaching  her  (ifteenth  year  when  lhiw]dnh 
Jered,  aud.  wearing  the  deep  wee(lB  of  widowhooil,  she  enrtharW  « 
Dover  for  Calais,  escorted  by  the  same  sir  Thomas  Percy'  who  bti 
Mttended  her  as  chsniberlnin  during  her  espousals.  Nolwithslamhng  At 
fael  that  his  family  had  been  "the  ladder  wherewithal  tlie  rnountiiigBfr 
lingbroke  BSf^eiideil  the  throne  of  RichnrcE,^'  there  is  little  dvobi  dKt  M 
Thomas  Percy's  heurt  ever  heat  loyiilly  towards  his  rightful  mafUTt't' 
he  was  bathed  in  tears  during  the  time  he  thus  coo<Iuct«d  th«  foug 
widow  of  Richard  lo  her  native  shores. 

"  My  queen  to  France  froni  whertce  wl  Totth  in  potnp 
Slit  coinc  ulornsil  Idllisr  like  iweet  Mmy, 
Sent  litrk  like  Hallowmu,  or  iliotleti  day." — ShaJaptan. 

Leulinghen,  a  town  between  Boulogne  and  Oalais,  a  sort  of  froMiR 
ground  of  ilie  English  territory,  was  the  spot  appointed  for  the  tiHori 
tion  of  Isabella  to  her  uncle  of  Burgundy.  >*  It  was  on  the  26A  of  J^> 
1402,  wlien  air  Thomas  Percy,  with  streaming  tears,  look  the  j*iai( 
qneen  by  the  arm.  and  delivered  her  with  good  grace  into  ibe  Imii  i 
Waleian  count  St.  Pol,  sumanied  the  Righteous,'  and  raceived  eoMl 
tellers  of  c[uillance  for  her  from  the  French.  In  these  the  Eogliah  ««■ 
missioners  declared,  thai  the  young  ijueen  was  jusi  ns  she  h>d  hm 
received,  and  Percy  offered  to  fight  d  Voulranct  tmy  one  wbo  ihiiiril 
usserl  the  contrary."  To  do  the  French  justice,  they  could  no*  bnt 
welcomed  back  their  young  princess  royal  with  more  enthusiiam  aaJ 
loyolt}',  if  she  had  been  dowered  with  all  the  wealth  of  Ennlajid,  iniiai 
of  returning  destitute,  and  plundered  of  all  but  her  beauty  nnd  hoDoor. 

The  virtues  and  sweet  temper  of  the  youthful  queeit  bwl  won  lit 
affections  of  her  English  ladies,  for  our  nianuRCripl  pursues*— 

"  Know,  before  ihe  parlies  separated,  they  all  wept  moel  nilMwlfi 
and  when  they  came  to  quit  the  chapel  of  our  I^dy  nl  Leulinghes,  qua 
Isabel,  whose  young  heart  is  full  of  tenderness  and  kindliness,  hnvjli 
all  her  English  ladies,  who  were  making  sore  lameutatiiMUy  tBM  ikl 

■eeding,  wliioh  i*  mil]'  wiibout  prae^eni  for  sl>«UTdji]r. 

*AneiWBiil9  tbe  nul  of  Woiceslpr.  90  faminu  in  tile  Percjr  nballicM. 

'He  wiM  bmUi<rr-m-l»w  10  liinp  RielisrJ. 

•This  iifttjm  Ihe  MSS,  ofibe  AmbsMadev.    Ha])'*  H I  |.  ._]jj,  Tl  lj|  1 

a  Kgolar  receipt  farlbe  iiu«en  dial  ah e  bad  been  •afelj'delStiarad.wwiWtMi- 
WttM  like  a  reoekpt  fQt  ft  VnXe  oi  mcnAnuLue. 


ItABBLLA    OF    TALOIt.  JT 

Frencli  tenUr,  where  she  made  them  dine  with  her.  And  afler  dinner, 
queen  Isabe]  took  all  the  jewels  she  had  remaining,  and  divided  Uiem 
among  the  lords  and  ladies  of  England  who  had  accompanied  her,  who 
all,  neTerthclesfl,  wept  mightily  with  sorrow  at  parting  with  their  young 
queen.  Tet  still  she  sweetly  bade  them  ^  be  of  good  cheer,'  though 
weeping  herself;  nerertheless,  at  the  moment  of  parting,  all  renewetl 
their  lamentations." 

^  The  damsel  of  Montpensier,  sister  to  the  count  de  la  Marche,  the 
damsel  of  Luxemburgh,  sister  to  the  count  de  St  Pol ;  and  many  other 
noble  ladies,  were  sent  by  the  queen  of  France  to  wait  upon  her 
daughter. 

^  Then  the  count  St  Pol  led  her  to  the  dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Bour- 
bon, who,  with  a  large  company  of  armed  men,  were  waiting,  intending, 
jf  any  demur  had  taken  place  regarding  the  restoration  of  their  niece,  to 
have  charged  the  English  party  over  hill  and  over  valley,  and  taken  her 
back  by  force  to  her  fair  sire  the  king  of  France.* 

She  was  received  by  her  countrymen  with  every  honour,  and  thence 
eaeorted  to  Boulogne  and  to  Abbeville,  where  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  to 
celebrate  her  return,  made  a  grand  banquet  She  then  proceeded  through 
France  to  Paris,  ^  where  her  coming  caused  many  a  tear  and  many  a 
nnile.'  Most  kindly  was  she  received  by  the  king  and  queen  of  France ; 
but  though  it  was  pretended,  by  king  Henry,  that  she  was  restored  with 
tfvery  honour,  yet  there  was  not  any  revenue  or  dower  assigned  her 
from  England  as  queen-dowager.'' 

Louis  duke  of  Orleans,  who  was  anxious  to  obtain  the  maiden  queen 
wm  a  bride  for  his  promising  heir,  mdertook  to  championise  her  wrongs. 
He  sent  a  challenge,  soon  after  her  arrival  in  France,  to  Henry  IV.,  de* 
fymg  him,  as  the  plunderer  of  the  young  queen  and  the  murderer  of  her 
husband,  and  oflering  to  light  him  in  the  lists,  on  this  quarrel.  Henry 
'^Idly  replied,  ^^  He  knew  of  no  precedent  which  offered  tlie  example 
n£  a  crowned  king  entering  the  lists  to  fight  a  duel  with  a  subject,  how- 
ever high  the  rank  of  that  subject  might  be." 

^  How  could  yon  suffer,"  replies  Isabella's  uncle,*  in  his  letter  of  de* 
tfanee,  ^  my  much  redoubted  Isdy,  madame  queen  of  England,  to  return 
to  her  country  desolate  by  the  loss  of  her  lord,  despoiled  of  her  dower, 
and  of  all  the  property  she  carried  hence  on  her  marriage  ?  He  who 
aeeks  to  gain  honour  must  support  her  cause.  Are  not  noble  knights 
bound  to  defend  the  rights  of  widows  and  virgins  of  virtuous  life,  such 
as  my  niece  was  known  to  lead  ?"  He  concludes  his  episile  with  bitter 
thanks  for  the  superior  care  Henry  took  of  the  safety  of  tlie  French 
knights,  by  refusing  the  combat,  to  what  he  did  of  tlie  health  and  life 
of  his  own  royal  lord  king  Richard. 

This  taunt  roused  Henry  into  the  indignant  denial  of  the  murder  of 
hia  ^  dear  lord  and  cousin  king  Richard,  (whom  God  absolve.)"    He 

*  MoDstrelet,  and  MSS.  of  the  Ambasndet.  '  MonstreleL 

"  These  letters  ate  tnmtleted  in  the  <*  Pietorial  History  of  Engluul ;''  Ukewiaa 
see  Cnite,  Moaitielet,  and  Guthrie. 


I 


tB&BBLLA    OF    VALOI9. 

''God  kniiws  how  anil  by  whom  thai  itealh  was  done,'  hat 
if  you  mrain  to  mv  his  ileaih  whs  caused  by  our  order  or  conical,  wa 
aniwiir  ihnl  you  lie.  and  will  lie  foully  oft  as  you  say  90," 

The  periinacity  of  Henry  IV.  10  ^in  die  "  aweoi  youii^  qu«en''  w  a 
bride  fur  Ins  ^llaiti  son  was  not  overcome  even  by  litis  I'liriiius  turn- 
spondrace  with  licr  nnde.  in  ihe  year  UU6,  arcording  ■>>  lUiiutirJrk 
I1B  made  a  moat  exlrnordinary  proposal,  declnring  ihttl  if  Uie  hanii  >4 
kabella  (now  in  lier  eighteenth  year)  were  bestowed  un  the  prince  uf 
Wales,  be  would  abdicate  (he  English  crown  in  larour  of  the  yiniof 
prince.'  The  royal  council  of  Frauce  sal  in  debate  on  this  ofler  for  1 
Ions;  lime;  but  the  king's  brother,  Louis  duke  of  Orleans,  eoniendd 
that  he  had  the  promise  o(  die  hand  of  Isabella  for  his  son  Charles  M 
Angouli^me ;  he  represented  the  frduds  of  the  king  of  Enflan^  mi 
called  to  iheir  memory  the  *  steady  aversion"  of  his  niece  to  ally  be^ 
self  with  the  assassin  of  the  husband  site  still  tnved.  An  an&routahlt 
■nswRr  WHS  iherEfore  given  to  (he  English  ambassadors,  who  departed 
malcontent,  * 

The  bctrolhmenl  of  Isabella  to  her  youthful  rousin  took  plarr  u 
Compiegne,  where  her  mother,  queen  Isabean,  met  the  duke  of  Orieaif 
and  his  son.  Magnificent  ft'ies  took  pisre  at  the  ceremony,  eonaisuiig 
of  "banquett,  dancings,  jousts,  and  other  jollities."  Bui  ifae  bride  wept 
bitterly  while  her  hand  waa  pledged  (o  a  brtd^room  so  mneh  voonirr 
than  herself;  (he  court  charitably  declared  that  her  Irars  (lowed  on  t- 
count  of  her  losing  the  tide  of  queen  of  England ;  but  the  hean  of  Ibt 
fair  young  widow  had  been  too  severely  schooled  in  advereiiy  to  mocm 
over  a  mere  empty  name.'     Der  ihonghis  were  on  king  Itirlinnl. 

The  husband  of  Isabella  became  duke  of  Orleans  in  14<'', 
felher  was  atrociously  murdered  in  the  Rue  Barbette,  by 
the  duke  of  Burgundy.     Isabella  took  a  decided  pan  in  <'i 
tice  to  be  executed  on  die  powerful  assassin  of  her  nncb:  .:      ' 

"The  young  queen-dowager  of  England  came  with  her  motheris- 
law,  Violante  of  Milan,  ducbess  of  Orleans,  both  dressed  in  the  (Iwpm 
weeda  ol'  black.  They  arrived  without  the  walls  of  l'ari»  in  a  rharnvA 
or  aagon.  covered  wiili  black  cloth,  drawn  by  six  soow-wbite  steak 
whose  funeral  trappings  strongly  contrasted  with  their  (^olou^  baMli 
and  her  mother-in-law  sat  weeping  in  (he  from  of  the  wagoo;  a  Ui^ 

'  Here  U  an  evident  admiaiion  that  Ricliard  died  by  violence, — but  llnuy  i> 
illioiit  Lii  orders  ;  thus  comilioratiTiE  Ihe  nccoiint  of  llip  ntunler  M  o* 
wiiti  sir  PitTs  E^lon.     Had  Richard  bfrn  clarvcd,  Haar;  iircmid  bin 
d»Flar«)  his  blood  was  ntnsheil. 

*No  English  higtohan  can  believe  this  sssetliaa,  yet  Gifforil  id  hi*  adininUc 
Bislory  of  France  does  not  diepule  it. 

■  Moiiiticlcil.  and  die  Clironiclex  of  Sl  Deoii.  MonstrFlrl  doclue*  tl>M(^it« 
dnbeorOrloani  had  b«u  Ibe  godrndiei of  Isabella, and  it.i-tclbrr  n  .tj.i.iii  ati,! 

the  dat^B  of  the  liirth  of  Isabella  anil  Orlcnns  show  ihai   ihli  u  .. 
bllitjr.     Ii  U  pnsfible  that  Uabella  bad   Ixtta  godmiHlH-i  10  t'r 
Migbt  VDtlttl  CriOT  ot  the  tnniciibers  of  Moostrrlel  niifihi  «(»<■  1 
AMtdi,  'Chronlclaiaf  >i   1' 


ISABELLA    OF    TALOIt.  ID 

file  of  moorning  wa^ns,  filled  with  the  domestics  of  the  princesses,  fol- 
lowed. They  were  met  at  the  gates  by  most  of  the  princes  of  the 
blood.'' '  This  lugubrious  train  passed,  at  a  foot's  pace,  through  the 
•treets  of  that  capital  stained  by  the  slaughter  of  Orleans.  The  gloomy 
appearance  of  the  procession,  the  downcast  looks  of  the  attendants,  the 
flowing  tears  of  the  princesses,  for  a  short  time  excited  the  indignation 
of  the  raiisians  against  the  popular  murderer,  John  of  Burgundy.  Isa- 
bella alighted  at  the  gates  of  the  H6tel  de  St.  Pol,  where,  throwing  her- 
self at  the  feet  of  her  half-crazed  father,  she  demanded,  in  concert  with 
the  duchess  Violante,  justice  on  the  assassin  of  her  uncle.  The  unfor- 
tunate king  of  France  was  thrown  into  fresh  agonies  of  delirium  by  the 
Tiolent  excitement  produced  by  the  sight  of  his  suppliant  daughter  and 
sister-in-law. 

A  year  afWrwards  the  same  mournful  procession  traversed  Paris  again ; 
Isabella  again  joined  Violante  in  crying  for  justice,  not  to  the  unconscious 
king,  who  was  raving  in  delirium,  but  to  the  dauphin  Louis,  whose  feeble 
hands  held  the  reins  of  empire  his  father  had  dropped. 

Soon  afler,  Isabella  attended  the  death-bed  of  the  duchess  Violante, 
who  died  positively  of  a  broken  heart  for  the  loss  of  Orleans.  The  fol- 
lowing year  Isabella  was  married  to  her  cousin :  the  previous  ceremony 
had  been  only  betrothment  The  elegant  and  precocious  mind  of  this 
prince  soon  made  the  diflerence  of  the  few  years  between  his  age  and 
that  of  his  bride  forgotten.  Isabella  loved  her  husband  entirely ;  he  was 
the  pride  of  his  country,  both  in  mind  and  person.  He  was  that  cele- 
brated poet  duke  of  Orleans,  whose  beautiful  lyrics  are  still  reckoned 
among  the  classics  of  France.'  Just  as  Isabella  seemed  to  have  attained 
the  height  of  human  felicity,  adored  by  the  most  accomplished  prince  in 
Europe,  beloved  by  his  family,  and  with  no  present  alloy  in  her  cup  of 
happiness,  death  claimed  her  as  his  prey  in  the  bloom  of  her  life.  She 
expired  at  the  castle  of  Blois,  in  her  twenty-second  year,  a  few  hours 
after  the  birth  of  her  infant  child,  Sept.  13th,  1410.  Her  husband's 
grief  amounted  to  frenzy ;  but  afVer  her  infant  was  brought  to  him  by  her 
attendants,  he  shed  tears,  and  became  calmer  while  caressing  it.^  The 
first  verses  of  Orleans  that  attained  any  celebrity  were  poured  forth  by 
his  grief  for  this  sad  bereavement    He  eays^ — 

Alas! 
Death,  who  made  thee  so  bold 
To  take  from  me  my  lovely  princess  f 
Who  was  my  comfort,  my  life, 
My  good,  my  pleasure,  my  riches. 
Alas !  I  am  lonely,  bereft  of  my  mat»^ 
Adieu,  my  lady,  my  lily  I 
Our  loves  are  for  ever  severed. 

'  Chronicles  of  St  Denis. 

*ln  the  publio  library  of  Grenoble  is  a  fine  copy  of  the  poems  of  Charles  duke 
of  Orleans,  the  husband  of  this  queen  of  England.  It  was  written  from  his  dic- 
latkm  by  bis  secretary,  Antoine  TAstisan.  It  has  been  copied  for  the  Bibliotheque 
Rojmle.  Another  fine  copy  exists,  richly  illuminated,  in  the  British  Museum, 
SDDpoaed  lo  have  been  transcribed  iar  Henry  VIL 

'  lMbella*s  inihnt  was  a  little  girl,  who  was  reared,  and  aAerwaida  t»AmMl>f^ 
tfM  duke  of  Aleopon. 


SABELLA    OF     VALOia. 


Bvt  B  mnre  finished  Ivric  lo  ilic  memory  of  Imbella  thiu  o 
a  Preach  .' — Xaifa'd  tobfeqiu  de  Madame,' 


To  tiiBke  mjr  l»dy'»  ob»iiuiB4 

My  love  a  niinstai  wraughl, 
And  in  the  cbsmc)-  service  ihera 

Was  sung  by  doleful  thoogllL 
The  uprn  were  of  burning  (igfai^ 

Thai  lighl  bihI  odour  gavn, 
And  grief  Illuniiiied  by  loan 

Itrailiated  li«r  grave; 
And  rouiut  abDu^  in  quBinreR  gnita, 


The  bin 


1  thing  u 


iBl  s; 


AboTC  her  lielh  ipread  a  ramb 

Of  gold  and  Bn|i]>hirei  blur: 
The  gatil  <lciih  ebow  her  ble^onlnaw, 

The  a|iphice*  insik  bei  mioi 
For  bleisedneja  and  truth  in  bft 

Wers  livplrly  porlray'd, 
When  grarious  Ucxl,  uilM  btth  M*  A«aA 

Her  wondroua  beamy  msda ; 
She  wai,  lo  npeali  willumt  duifiiia*^ 


ItABBLLA    OF    TALOIS.  37 

bdla.  Gbaries  of  Orleans,  by  the  peculiar  malice  of  fortune,  was  doomed 
to  a  long  imprisonment  by  the  very  man  who  had  so  often  been  refused 
by  his  wife — a  circumstance  which  perhaps  was  not  altogether  forgotten 
by  Henry  V.  The  gallant  husband  of  Isabella,  after  fighting  desperately 
at  Agincourt,  was  left  for  dead  on  the  lost  field ;  but,  being  dragged  from 
beneath  a  heap  of  slain,  was  restored  to  unwelcome  life  by  the  care  of  a 
▼aliant  English  squire,  Richard  Waller.  Orleans  refused  to  eat  or  drink, 
after  recovering  from  his  swoon,  but  was  persuaded  out  of  his  resolution 
of  starving  himself  to  death  by  the  philosophic  and  friendly  remonstrances 
of  Henry  V.  His  wounds  soon  healed,  and  he  was  seen  riding  side  by 
side  with  his  conqueror  and  kinsman,  conversing  in  the  most  friendly 
terms,  a  few  da3rs  afler  the  victory  of  Agincourt 

But  after  thus  reconciling  his  unfortunate  captive  to  life,  Henry  refused 
all  ransom  for  him^  because  he  was  the  next  heir  to  the  throne  of  France 
aAer  Charles  the  Dauphin.  Orleans  was  sent  to  England,  and  at  first 
eonfined  at  Groombridge,  in  Kent,  the  seat  of  Waller,  but  was  aAerwanls 
consigned  to  a  severe  imprisonment  in  the  Tower  of  London,  where  he 
eoropoeed  some  of  his  most  beautiful  poems.  It  was  well  that  his  fine 
mind  possessed  resources  in  itself,  for  his  captivity  lasted  twenty-three 
years! 

Isabella  was  first  interred  at  Blois,  in  the  abbey  of  St.  Laumer,  where 
her  body  was  found  entire,  in  1624,  curiously  wrapped  in  bands  of  linen, 
plated  over  with  quicksilver.  It  was  soon  afler  transferred  to  the  church 
ci  the  Celestines,  in  Paris,  the  family  burying-place  of  the  line  of  Orleans. 


vor«  lu*— 4 


JOANNA  OF  NAVARRE, 

QUEEN   OF  HENRV  IV. 


CHAPTER   1. 

Imnna't  jiBrcntBge — DeKeoI — Eiil  crhnmctec  iX  brt  biJ.er — M«|  *mtlf  jn 
ConiiBCieil  loitie  princo  of  Ca«iilte — Conuact  brokni — Captund  IqrtlMF^ 
— Rags  of  hnr  fatbet — Her  rRleB««— Deouuded  bf  tba  daka  (W  ttat^ 
Dower — MarriKge — Hotriblo  deaili  i  ..     .  _ 

Oliver  CliesoQ — Birth  aul  dcaili  of  Joanna',  d«D|diiM— [Ictt  vC  llnntf*  bl 
— French  ambusdadors  nved  by  Joanna — Ilsr  oonjugnl  ittBuirtiM  Hat  ■ 
betrnihi^il  lo  JoHnna  »r  Fiance — BenegAl  a.1  VannM — Miv  En«ilimM  a  pMi 
• — Hcf  danKhtet  conttsrled  »  ihe  heir  of  Dcrbj'  (HHUy  V.)- 
— Eipousal*  of  two  of  her  children — Joa        '     ""  " 


JOANNA    OF    NATARRS.  39 

her  appointed  bridegroom,  on  the  death  of  his  father,  to  break  his  en- 
gagement with  Joanna,  and  to  espouse  a  princess  of  Arragon. 

The  intrigues  and  crimes  of  Charles  the  Bad,  who  was  perpetually 
engaging  in  some  unprincipled  project  or  other,  with  a  view  to  esta- 
blishing himself  on  the  disputed  throne  of  his  grandfather,'  rendered 
the  early  youth  of  Joanna  and  her  brethren  a  season  of  painful  vicissi- 
tode.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  when  this  unquiet  prince  had  em- 
broiled himself  with  the  regents  of  France,  Joanna  and  her  two  elder 
brothers,  Charles  and  Pierre  of  Navarre,  having  been  sent  for  better 
security  to  the  castle  of  Breteuil,  in  Normandy,  were,  in  the  year  1381, 
made  prisoners  and  carried  to  Paris,  where  they  were  detained  as  host- 
ages for  their  father's  future  conduct  Charles  le  Mauvais,  finding  his 
entreaties  for  their  liberation  fruitless,  out  of  revenge  suborned  a  person 
to  poison  both  the  regents.  The  emissary  was  detected  and  put  to 
death,  but  Charles,  the  greater  criminal  of  the  two,  was  out  of  the  reach 
of  justice.' 

Joanna  and  her  brother  might  have  been  imperilled  by  the  lawless 
conduct  of  their  fother,  had  they  not  been  in  the  hands  of  generous 
foes — the  brothers  of  their  deceased  mother ;  but,  though  detained  for 
a  considerable  time  as  state  prisoners  in  Paris,  they  were  affectionately 
and  honourably  treated  by  the  court  of  France.  Their  liberation  was 
finally  obtained  through  the  mediation  of  the  king  of  Castillo,  whose 
sister,  the  bride  of  young  Charles  of  Navarre,  WMth  unceasing  tears  and 
supplications,  wrought  upon  him  to  intercede  for  their  release.  Thus 
did  Joanna  of  Navarre  owe  her  deliverance  to  the  prince  by  whom  she 
had  been  betrothed  and  forsaken. 

In  the  year  138G,  a  marriage  was  negotiated  between  Joanna  and  John 
de  Montfort,  duke  of  Bretagne,  surnamed  the  Valiant.  This  prince, 
who  was  in  the  decline  of  life,  had  already  been  twice  married.*  On 
the  death  of  his  last  duchess  without  surviving  issue,  the  dukes  of  Berri 
and  Burgundy,  fearing  the  duke  would  contract  another  English  alliance, 
proposed  their  niece,  Joanna  of  Navarre,  to  him  for  a  wife.*  The  lady 
Jane  of  Navarre,  Joanna's  aunt,  had  marrie<l,  seven  years  previously, 
the  viscount  de  Rohan,  a  vassal  and  kinsman  of  the  duke  of  Brcta.^ne, 
and  it  was  through  the  agency  of  this  lady  that  the  marriage  between 
her  new  sovereign  and  her  youthful  niece  was  brought  about.^ 

That  this  political  union  was,  notwithstanding  the  disparity  of  years 
and  the  violent  temper  of  the  duke,  agreeable  to  the  bride,  tliere  is  full 
evidence  in  the  grateful  remembrance  which  Joanna  retained  of  the  good 

*  He  itf  alK>  accused  by  contemporary  historians  of  practising  the  dark  myste- 
ries of  the  occult  sciences,  in  the  unhallowed  privacy  of  his  own  palace ;  and 
it  is  certain  tliat,  as  a  poisoner,  Charles  of  Navarre  acquired  an  infamous 
•elcbrity  Uiroughout  Europe. 

*  Mezerai.     Moreri. 

*  First  to  Mary  Plantagenet,  the  daughter  of  his  royal  patron  and  protector, 
Eiiward  111.,  with  whose  sons  he  had  been  educated  and  taught  the  science  of 
nar.  Mary  dying  witliout  children  in  the  third  year  of  her  niarriiigo,  lui 
•spoiised,  secondly,  Jane  Holland,  the  half-sister  of  Richard  II.  of  Kuj^land.  . 

*  Doiu  Morice.     Chron.  de  Bretagne.  *  Dum  Mocvc^a, 


I 


I 


I 


r4D  JO&MIiA    or    IfATAKRB. 

offices  of  her  aunt  on  ihis  occaaion,'  long  arter  the  auplial  lir  MMM 
net  anil  lier  mature  lonl  bad  been  dissolved  by  d«alli,  and  aha  M  Cfr 
icred  iiilo  mutrimuniitl  eiigagetnenta  with  Henry  IV.  of 

The  <!uke  nf  Brelngne  having  been  induced,  by  Uic 
or  the  lady  of  Kohao  and  ihe  nobles  attHched  to  the  rauM  of  T( 
lo  lend  a  lavourable  ear  to  the  overtures  for  this  alliance. 
Joanna's  hand  of  tier  tklher,  and  gave  coiiimi^aion  to  Pierre  tk 
to  nian  and  appoint  a  vessel  of  war  to  convey  the  young 
ahorea  uf  Bretagne. 

Pierre  etnbarked  on  the  Itjiti  of  June,  1386.  Thare  is.  m^PfrBn> 
Uisloriqura,"  a  memorial  of  the  expensna  of  Pierre  de  Leauemc  for  tta 
voyage,  specifying  that  lie  stocked  the  vmmIs  with  tha  |>roviw« 
required  for  the  royal  bride  and  her  train. 

The  roniiacL  of  marriage  between  the  duke  of  Breutgne  aod  Jotnm 
was  signed  at  Pampeluika,  August  25th,  1380.  The  king  of  Kmnt 
engaged  to  give  his  daughter  120,001)  livres  of  gold  of  tlie  coin*  of  At 
kings  of  France,  and  6000  livres  of  ihe  rents  due  to  him  on  the  lavli 
of  the  viscount  tJ'Avtanches.'  The  duke,  on  his  side,  usignnl  (o  iht 
princess,  for  her  dower,  the  citiea  of  Nantes  and  Guerrand,  the  fvaiy 
of  Rais,  of  Chatellenic  de  TottSbn,  and  Guerche.  Joanna  then  itftad 
with  Pierre  de  Leanerac  and  her  escurt  for  Bretagne,  and  on  th*  lllhd 
September,  1386,  was  married  to  ihe  duke  of  Bretagne  at  Saille,  mm 
Cuerrand,  in  the  presence  of  many  of  the  nobles,  knights,  and  siiiifaM 
of  Bretagne.'  A  succession  of  feasts  and  pagcmiia  of  the  mnet  aulawfJ 
description  were  given  by  the  duke  o(  Bretagne  at  Naoles,  ia  boaatf 
of  his  nuptials  with  his  young  brides* 

In  the  beginning  of  the  new  year,  February'  1387.  "■  ia  toiea  iJ  Mr 
muinal  aSection  and  delight  in  their  union,  the  duke  and  duebMt  ti- 
ebonged  gifts  of  gold,  sapphires,  pearls,  and  other  cowily  gnna,  wit 
borees,  Cilcons,  and  various  sons  of  wines.' 

Joanna  appears  to  have  possessed  the  greatest  influence  owwr  ktr  In^- 
baiid's  heart,  and  to  have  been  treated  by  him  with  the  fciMlm  MMi- 
deration,  on  all  occasions,  although  her  Cither  was  uiMtUe  to  MS  to 

firomiK  with  regard  to  the  portion  the  duke  was  to  have  reetitaj  wiA 
ler. 

The  death  of  Joanna's  lather,  which  took  place  the  nine  vetr.  *■ 
attended  with  circumstances  of  peculiar  horror.  He  had  long  tien  <^ 
fering  from  a  complication  of  maladies.  In  lopes  of  recoverBf  ka 
paralytic  limbs  from  their  mortal  cbillness.  ht  -aitsed  his  whole  p«>* 
to  be  sewn  up  in  cloths  dipped  in  spirits  of  wine  and  salpfanr.  Ox 
night,  after  these  bandages  had  been  fixed,  neither  knife  nor  aijiii 
being  at  hand,  the  careless  attendants  applied  the  flame  of  the  caarfk  !■ 
•ever the  needle  with  which  the  linen  had  been  sewn;  the  >pihi«rf 
wine  ini'Utitly  ignited,  and  the  wretched  Charges  was  btimed  ao  dm^ 
fully,  that,  after  lingering  several  days,  he  expired,'  Jantcar^r  Is,  IVT, 

ttymet't  Ftcilera.  *Ddir  Uoiiue^     Cluon.  ila  Riiiisim 

*I>IUn  Moriua.     Pteiivcs  KUloiique*. 

*Dom  Moiice.    CUion.  d«  Gieucnc 


JOANNA    OF    If  ATABBS.  41 

Iflftving  his  throne  to  his  gallant  patriotic  son,  Charles  the  (}ood,'and  his 
name  to  the  general  reprobation  of  all  French  chroniclers. 

The  Bretons,  who  had,  according  to  Don  Morice,  boded  no  good 
cither  to  themselves  or  to  their  duke,  from  his  connexion  with  this 
prince,  far  from  sympathising  with  the  grief  of  their  yoang  duchess  for 
the  tragical  death  of  her  last  surviving  parent,  rejoiced  in  the  deliverance 
of  the  earth  from  a  monster  whose  crimes  had  rendered  him  a  disgrace 
to  royally.' 

The  last  bad  act  of  the  life  of  Charles  le  Mauvais,  had  been  to  in- 
■inuaie  to  his  irascible  son-in-law  that  Oliver  de  Clisson  entertained  a 
criminal  passion  for  the  young  duchess  of  Bretagiie  ;*  and  this  idea  ex- 
cited in  his  mind  a  tliirst  for  vengeance,  which  nearly  involved  him  and 
ail  connected  with  him  in  ruin. 

In  early  life,  John  the  Valiant  and  Clisson  had  been  united  in  the 
tenderest  ties  of  friendship.  The  courage  and  military  skill  of  Clisson 
had  greatly  contributed  to  the  establishment  of  this  prince's  claims  to 
the  dukedom  of  Bretagne.  Latterly,  however,  Clisson  had  opposed  the 
duke'a  political  predilections  in  favour  of  England,  as  productive  of  much 
evil  to  Bretagne ;  and  he  had  further  caused  great  oflence  to  the  duke, 
by  ransoming,  at  his  own  expense,  John  count  de  Penthievres,  the 
rival  claimant  of  the  duchy,  from  his  long  captivity  in  England,  and 
marrying  him  to  his  eldest  daughter  and  co-heiress,  Margaret  de  Clis- 
son, just  at  the  time  when  there  appeared  a  prospect  of  the  duchess 
Joanna  bringing  an  heir  to  Bretagne.* 

Clisson  was  the  commander  of  the  armament  preparing  by  France 
for  the  invasion  of  England,  which  was  to  sail  from  Treguer,  in  Bre- 
tagne, the  king  and  regents  of  France  imagining  that  they  had  wholly 
■ecured  the  friendship  of  the  duke,  by  his  marriage  with  their  young 
kinswoman,  Joanna  of  Navarre.  Their  pUns  were  completely  frustrated 
by  the  unexpected  arrest  of  Clisson  by  the  duke/  of  which  Froissart 
gives  the  following  lively  account;  attributing,  however,  to  political 
motives  a  proceeding  which  appears  to  liave  been  dictated  by  furious 
jealousy. 

Dissembling  the  deadly  malic«  of  his  intentions  under  the  deceitful 
blandishments  with  which  the  fell  designs  of  hatred  are  so  frequently 
masked,  he  wrote  the  most  aflectionate  letters  to  the  constable,  request- 
ing his  presence,  as  a  vassal  peer  of  Bretagne,  at  a  parliament  whicli  he 
h^  summoned  to  meet  at  Vannes,  where  his  duchess  was  then  holding 
her  court  at  the  castle  Dc  la  Motte.* 

Suspecting  no  ill,  the  constable  came  with  other  nobles  and  knights 
to  attend  this  parliament  The  duke  gave  a  grand  dinner  to  the  barons 
of  BreUgne,  at  his  castle  De  la  Motte,  and  entertained  them  with  an  ap- 
pearance of  the  most  aifectionate  hospitality  till  a  late  hour.  The  con- 
stable of  France*  then  invited  the  duke  and  the  same  company  to  dine 

'  Nouv<»au  Dictionnnirc  lli»t(iritjue.     Dom  Morice.  Cliron.  dc  Brotngne. 

■MSS.  process  again!*!  the  king  of  Navarre,  quoted  by  Outltrie.     Guthrie  calls 
Joanna,  by  mistake,  Mary. 

•FroisiarL          *Ibid.     Cbroniques  de  Bretagne.  *FroiiMirt      *IbkL 

4* 


I 
I 


i 


M  JOAHNAOFNAVABBI. 

with  liim  on  the  folluwing  day.  The  tluke  accepleO  ihe  invilaliaB  mf 
frankly,  and  behnveil  in  ihe  most  friendly  oiBnn«r.  seauog  himtdT 
■Riuiig  ihe  gneeiB,  wiih  whom  he  ale,  drank,  and  convrrseil,  with  «*viy 
appearance  of  good'WlU.  When  ihe  repast  wsa  concludcnU  br  intiwil 
the  cnnalable  Clisnon,  the  lord  de  Beaumanoir,  and  some  otlien,  tn 
come  with  him  and  see  the  impTDvements  made  by  him  at  hi«  Bne  mile 
of  Erndne.  wtiich  he  had  nearly  rebuilt  and  greatly  beaaliiinl,  oa  ibe 
occasion  of  his  late  marriage  with  the  princess  of  Navarre. 

The  duke's  behaviour  had  been  so  gracious  and  winning,  that  bis  iB- 
vilaiion  was  frankly  accepted,  aud  ihe  unsuspecting  noblira  accMnfanid 
him  on  horseback  to  the  casUe.  When  they  arrived,  the  duke^  dw  mi> 
•table,  anil  the  lords  Laval  and  Beaumanoir  dismouritcid,  am)  tirgta  U 
view  the  apartments.  The  duke  led  the  cimstnble  by  the  hand  fiota 
chamber  to  chamber,  arid  even  into  the  cellars,  where  witie  was  oflntd. 
When  iliey  reached  the  entrance  of  ihe  keep,  the  duke  paused,  tni  in- 
vjied  Clisson  to  enter  and  examine  the  construction  of  the  timkliag, 
while  he  remained  in  conversation  with  lord  de  L^val.' 

The  constable  entered  the  lower  alone,  and  ascended  ilie  ftaitoM. 
When  he  had  passed  ihe  first  floor,  some  armed  men,  who  bad  btn 
ambushed  there,  shut  the  door  below,  seised  him,  dragged  him  iltton 
aparimeni,  and  loaded  him  with  three  pair  of  fellers.  As  they  wtn 
putting  iliem  on.  they  said, ''My  lord,  forgive  what  we  Kre  daJDf,&r 
we  are  compelled  lo  this  by  the  authority  of  ihe  duke  of  firclafne." 

When  the  lord  de  Xjimi,  who  was  at  ihe  entrance  of  iJie  tower,  IkwJ 
the  door  shut  with  violence,  he  was  afraid  of  some  plot  asainH  hk  to- 
ther-in-law,  the  constable ;  and,  turning  to  the  duke,  who  Indtad  M 
pale  a>  death,  was  confirmed  that  something  wrong  waa  tnteiided.  ni 
cried  QuL  ''Ah .'  niy  lord,  for  God's  sake,  what  are  they.doiug  ?  Do  niX 
use  any  violence  againut  the  constable." 

'''  Lord  de  Laval,"  said  the  duke,  '^  mount  your  liorse,  and  gu  boa* 
while  you  may ;  1  know  very  well  what  I  am  aboni.''" 

"  My  lord."  raid  Laval,  "  1  will  never  depart  without  my  btolhtrHO- 
law.  the  constable." 

Then  came  the  lord  de  Beaumanoir,  whom  the  duke  greatly  hMi. 
and  naked,  "  Where  ihe  constable  was  ?''  The  duke,  driving  liii  ih^ 
ger,  adranced  lo  him  and  said,  "  fieauiunnoir,  dosi  thou  wish  to  be  At 
ihy  master?" 

''  My  lord,"  replied  Benumanoir,  "  I  cannot  believe  my  nwater  to  bl 
otherwise  than  in  good  plight." 

"  1  ask  thee  again,  il'  ihou  wouldest  wish  to  be  like 
the  duke. 

"  Yes,  my  lord,"  replied  Beaumanoir. 

"  Well,  then,  Beaumanoir,"  said  ihe  duke,  holding  lh«  dae^ 
him  by  the  point,  "since  ihou  wouldest  heUke  him,  thou  inui 
out  one  of  thine  eyes.'" 

This  malignant  taunt  on  the  personal  defect  of  the  roiuit«h|ft.    .. 
ing,  as  il  donbllesa  ilid,  from  the  jealous  ire  that  was  boiling  ■  hh 

'Fnii«nut.  'lUiL 


JOANNA    OF    NATARRB.  4B 

bmsU  came  with  a  worse  grace  from  the  angreteful  duke,  since  Cli&son 
had  lost  his  eye  while  fighting  bravely  in  his  cause  at  the  battle  of 
Aaray.  The  lord  de  Beaumanoir,  seeing  from  the  expression  of  the 
dnke^s  countenance  that  things  were  taking  a  bad  turn,  cast  himself  on 
his  knee,  and  began  to  expostulate  with  him  on  the  treachery  of  hi& 
conduct  towards  the  constable  and  himself. 

^  Go,  go !''  interrupted  the  duke ;  "  thou  shalt  hare  neither  better  nor 
worse  than  he."  He  then  ordered  Beaumanoir  to  be  arrested,'  dragged 
into  another  room,  and  loaded  with  fetters,  his  animosity  against  him 
almost  equalling  his  hatred  to  Clisson. 

The  duke  then  called  to  him  the  Sieur  Bazvalen,  in  whom  he  had  the 
greatest  confidence,  and  ordered  him  to  put  the  constable  to  death  at 
midnight,  as  privately  as  possible.  Bazvalen  represented  in  vain  the 
perilous  consequences  that  would  ensue ;  but  the  duke  said,  ^  he  had 
resolved  upon  it,  and  would  be  obeyed.'^  During  the  night,  however, 
hia  passion  subsiding^  he  repented  of  having  given  such  orders,  and  at 
daybreak  sent  for  Bazvalen,  and  asked  ^^  if  his  directions  had  been 
obeyed  P'^ '  On  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  he  cried  out,  ^  How ! 
it  Clisson  dead  ?" 

^  Yes,  my  lord^  he  was  drowned  last  night,'  and  his  body  is  buried 
in  the  garden,"  said  Bazvalen. 

^  Alas !"  replied  the  dVike,  ^  this  is  a  most  pitiful  good-morrow.  Be* 
gone,  Messire  Jehan,  and  never  let  me  see  you  more !" 

As  soon  as  Bazvalen  had  retired,  the  duke  abandoned  himself  to  ago- 
nies of  remorse ;  he  groaned  and  cried  aloud  in  his  despair,  till  his 
■quires,  valets,  and  oflicera  of  the  household,  flew  to  his  succour,  sup- 
posing he  was  suffering  intense  bodily  pain,  but  no  one  dared  to  speak 
to  him,  and  he  refused  to  receive  food.  Bazvalen,  being  informed  of  his 
alate,  returned  to  him,  and  said,  ^  My  lord,  as  I  know  the  cause  of  your 
misery^  I  believe  I  can  provide  a  remedy,  since  there  is  a  cure  for  all 
things." 

^  Not  for  death,"  replied  the  duke. 

E>azvalen  then  told  him,  that,  foreseeing  the  consequences  and  the 
lemorse  he  would  feel  if  the  blind  dictates  of  his  passion  had  been 
obeyeil,  he  had  not  executed  his  commands,  and  that  the  constable  was 
•till  alive. 

^  What,  Messire  Jehan !  is  he  not  dead  ?"  exclaimed  the  duke,  and, 
fclling  on  Bazvalen's  neck,  embraced  him  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy.  The 
lord  de  Laval,  then  entering,  renewed  his  supplications  for  the  life  of  his 
brother-in-law  Clisson,  reminding  the  duke,  in  a  very  touching  manner, 
of  the  early  friendship  that  had  subsisted  between  them  when  they  were 
educated  together  in  tlie  same  hotel  with  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  and 
what  good  service  Clisson  had  since  done  him  at  the  battle  of  Auray ; 
and  ended  with  imploring  the  duke  to  name  any  ransom  he  pleased  for 
his  intended  victim.^ 

*Finssnrt.  'Dom  Morice's  History  of  Bretagne. 

*  Ibia.     A  prisoner  could  be  quietly  drowned  in  bis  dungeon  by  letung  in  the 
Wmtert  of  the  inoaL  *  FiovMiiXX. 


lile." 

Clisson  and  Bean  mane 
and  plenty  of  provisions 
had  kept  fast  as  wfll  as  ^ 
murderous  ire  of  John  ll 
ful  feelings  wliich  had  d 
crime  had  been  perpetrat 
expected  plunder  as  the 
been  fruaranteed  as  the  p 

In  four  davs^  time  the 
constable  by  the  lords  de 

w 

was  put  into  possession  • 
selin,  and  Le  Blanc,  and 
exchequer  ;*  but,  like  m< 
were  of  little  ultimate  ad 

The  arrest  of  the  cons 
the  efTect  of  averting  tlie 
As  he  was  the  commandc 
armament,  some  of  whon 
their  men  to  disband  thei 
from  his  perilous  but  bi 
whole  force  had  melted  a 

Clisson  carried  his  coi 
general  feeling  of  indign 
of  Bretagne^s  conduct  oi 
whose  invidious  feelings 
glance  at  her  as  the  prom 


JOAKNAOFNAVAKBE.  45 

lad  him  in  his  power." '  Thn  duke's  insolpiii  reply  lo  the  BuibaESBtlnra 
wu  ('•'owvd  by  a  declaratioti  of  war  from  France.  -He  expecl«il  no- 
thing less,"  Mys  FroiesarL,  "  but  his  hatred  a^insi  Clisson  was  so  great 
tli&t  ii  deprived  him  of  ihc  use  of  his  reason." '  In  fact,  the  frantic 
lentil*  lo  which  ihis  feeling  carried  him  can  only  he  accounted  for  on 
die  grounds  of  the  jeatoiwy  which  the  incendiary  insinuniiona  of  iha 
lale  king  of  Navarre  had  excited  in  his  mind.  The  conduct  of  th« 
duch^s?  was,  howerer,  so  prudent  and  irreproachable,  that  no  p«rt  of 
th«w  niigry  and  suspicious  feelings  were  directed  against  her.  She  »p- 
pears,  Irom  first  to  last,  to  have  enjoyed  the  undivided  affection  »nd 
micrai  of  licr  lord.  During  this  siorniy  period,  she  continued  to  rnids 
with  him  at  iJie  strong  castle  of  De  la  Motte  -,  but  they  tieldoni  ventured 
beyond  the  walls  nf  Vannes,  for  fear  of  ambuscades.  The  duke  garri- 
soned and  vicluniled  the  principal  towns  and  castles  in  his  dominion!, 
ud  eatered  into  a  strict  alliance  with  the  young  king  of  Navarre.  Joan- 
na** bfoiJier,  whom  he  promised  lo  Eissist  in  recovering  his  Norman 
dmninions,  if  he  would  unite  with  him  and  the  English  against  tlie 
French.' 

In  diB  midst  of  these  troubles,  Joanna  was  delivered  of  her  first-bom 
child  at  the  castle  of  Names, — a  daughter,  who  was  baptized  by  thd 
tmhnp  of  Vsnnes,  and  received  the  name  of  Joanna.'  The  infant  only 
■arrived  a  few  months.  The  grief  of  the  youthful  duchess,  for  this 
bcrnrement,  was  at  length  mitigated  by  a  second  prospect  of  her  bring- 
ing an  heir  to  her  childless  lord's  dominions;  but  the  sniicipalions  6f 
Uiis  joyful  event  were  clouded  by  the  ^oomy  aspect  of  the  affkirs  of 
Bmta^e,  the  duke  having  involved  himself  in  a  fearful  predicament  with 
Tnxict. 

The  council  of  the  duke  strongly  urged  the  necessity  of  peace  with 
Tnace.  Among  other  arguments,  they  represented  the  situation  of  the 
daehess,  saying. — ^Your  lady  is  now  far  advanced  in  her  pregnancy, 
mil  you  should  pay  attention  that  she  be  not  alarmed;  and  as  to  hn 
brother,  he  can  give  you  but  little  support,  for  he  has  enough  lo  da 
himself.*'  The  council  concluded  by  imploring  him  to  make  peace  with 
the  lord  of  Clisson. 

The  duke  waa  much  struck,  on  hearing  this  reasoniug.  and  remained 
•Mne  lime  leaning  over  a  window  that  opened  into  a  court.  His  council 
were  standing  behind  him.  Afler  some  musing,  he  turned  round  and 
Mid,  "Huh-  can  I  ever  love  Oliver  de  Clisson,  when  the  thing  I  moal 
itpeni  of  in  this  world  is  not  putting  him  to  death,  when  I  had  hiia  in 
my  casile  of  Ermine  ?'" 

Stubborn  and  headstrong  as  the  duke  waa,  the  fear  of  agitating  his 
ymmg  consort  decided  him.  at  last,  to  yield  an  ungracious  submission  to 
Ml  auMtrain.  Accordingly  he  went  to  Paris,  and  performed  his  long 
wMibeld  homage  to  Charles  VI.,  and  the  feudal  service  of  pouring  water 
inio  a  golden  Inain,  and  holding  the  napkin  for  the  king  to  wash.*     All 


i 

I 

I 
I 


iiiliiiicy  mill  cliililtiooJ  < 


.  lull  ilie  French  monarch  tal^ 

i>iit  of  confide  rati  on  for  liuirkiai- 
.  M  I  houl  takiug  any  rery  decided  [wl 
V  U-.  (J  her  iiiliuence  for  the  puTpoM  of 
ulil  liuve  been  placed  in  a  siiuaum  nf 
liic  presiding  over  a  court  ho  torn  t 
rrne.as  the  consort  of  a  prince  olileDoaib 
I  iif  fo  violent  and  irascible  a  loBpn 

L'  ■  he  was  always  involriug  hinucK 

r  iilhcr.     Yet  the  coinbalive  ilisp^ 

~.  .inily  csciie  our  wonder,  whet 

■  lilts  niid  the  stormy  scenes  in  wi 

I  passed.     He  might  have  nid  < 

n  bncklcr,  and  fell  [mai  a  blade." 

iiitrlil  fiirih  in  his  nurseV  arms,  amidst iW 

,!;i-  lliB  partisans  of  his  father's  title  to 

.  or  [il;ireil  in  hin  cradle  on  the  ramparts  of  Hnux- 

iiibli!  dcfuiire  of  that  place  by  his  mother,  Ma^mi 


riiii-  the 

ui<TS. 

viiilcnt  temper  of  thi'  diikt?  ajip 


o  have  been  chieflp  eierciwd 


JOANNA    OF    NAVABRB.  47 

the  nii^h  nnk  and  importance  of  these  envoys,  that,  suspecting  they  in- 
tended to  appeal  to  his  nobles  against  his  present  line  of  conduct,  he 
detennined^  in  violation  of  those  considerations  which  in  all  ages  have 
lendcred  the  persons  of  ambassadors  sacred,  to  arrest  them  all,  and  keep 
them  as  hostages  till  he  had  made  his  own  terms  with  France.'  Le 
Moinn  de  St.  Denis,  a  contemporary  historian,  declares  ^  he  heard  this 
from  the  very  lips  of  the  ambassadors,  who  related  to  him  the  peril  from 
which  they  escaped,  through  the  prudence  of  Joanna.'^  Fortunately  for 
all  parties,  it  happened  that  her  younger  brother,  Pierre  of  Navarre,  was 
at  the  court  of  Nantes,  and,  being  apprised  of  the  duke's  design,  hastened 
to  Joanna,  whom  he  found  at  her  toilet,  and  confided  to  her  the  alarm- 
ing project  then  in  agitation. 

Joanna,  who  was  then  in  hourly  expectation  of  the  birth  of  her  fourth 
child,  immediately  perceived  the  dreadful  consequences  that  would  re- 
sult from  such  an  unheard-of  outrage.  She  took  her  infants  in  her  arms, 
and  flew  to  the  duke's  apartment,  half-dressed  as  she  was,  with  her  hair 
loose  and  dishevelled,  and  throwing  herself  at  his  feet,  bathed  in  tears, 
conjured  him,  ^for  the  sake  of  those  tender  pleflges  of  their  mutual 
love,  to  abandon  the  rash  design  that  passion  had  inspired,  which,  if 
persisted  in,  must  involve  himself  and  all  belonging  to  him  in  utter 
rain."' 

•The  duke,  who  had  kept  his  design  a  secret  from  his  wife,  was  sur* 
prised  at  the  manner  of  her  address.  After  an  agitated  pause,  he  said — 
^  Lady,  how  you  came  by  your  information,  I  know  not ;  but,  rather 
than  be  tlie  cause  of  such  distress  to  you,  I  will  revoke  my  order.'" 
Joanna  then  prevailed  on  him  to  meet  the  ambassadors  in  the  cathedral 
die  next  day,  and  aflerwards  to  accompany  them  to  Tours,  where  the 
king  of  France  gave  him  a  gracious  reception,  and  induced  him  to  renew 
his  homage,  by  promising  to  unite  his  second  daughter  Joanna  of  France 
with  die  heir  of  Bretagne. 

High  feasts  and  rejoicings  celebrated  the  reconciliation  of  the  duke  of 
Bretagne  with  the  king  of  France,  and  the  treaty  for  the  marriage  between 
their  children.  On  this  occasion,  the  choleric  duke  condescended,  at 
die  table  o(  the  king  of  France,  to  dine  in  company  with  his  rival,  John 
of  Bretagne ;  but  not  even  there  would  he  meet  sir  Oliver  Clisson,^  so 
tnie  is  it  that  the  aggressor  is  more  difficult  to  conciliate  than  the  injured 
puty.  This  vindictive  spirit  on  the  part  of  the  duke,  next  betrayed  him 
nto  the  dishonourable  proceeding  of  extending  his  protection  to  sir 
Peter  Craon,  a(\er  a  base  attempt  to  assassinate  the  constable  in  the  Place 
de  Sl  Katherine. 

The  king  of  France  was  much  exasperated,  when  he  heard  tliat  Craon 
was  sheltered  by  tlie  duke  of  Bretagne,  and  wrote  a  peremptory  demand 
for  him  to  be  given  up  to  justice.  The  royal  messengers  found  the 
duke  at  his  casde  of  Ermine  with  his  duchess,  and  were  civilly  enter- 
Hined.    The  duke  positively  denied  any  knowledge  of  Craon ;  but  the 

*  Dom  Morice.     Moxemi. 

*  La  Moiiio  de  Sl  Denis,  p.  257.    Actes  de  Bretagae.    MexenL    Dom  Moriofi 
*Argciiue.    Chronicles  of  Bretagne.     Meienu.  *  iftovMArv 


iici»am»aiiv   uie  aijvaiiiai^e 
successes  not  neces^•ary  ic 
and  silver  plate  belonging 
jewels  and  other  precious 
war  against  them;    and,  t 
country,  there  was  not  a  Bi 
ai^inst  Clisson.     At  length 
sounder  politician  than  her 
uaderstanding  with  some  oi 
The  viscount  Rohan,  her  agi 
the  son  of  her  aunt,  Jane  o 

The  duke  of  Bretagne  ha 
that  surrounded  him.  He  fe 
dren  were  very  young,  and. 
gundy,  there  was  not  a  frier 
wife  and  her  infants.  As 
duchess  sprang,  the  wicket 
remarkably  unpopular  in 
hatred  of  sir  Oliver  de  Cliss 
to  be  united  against  his  hoi 
case  of  his  decease,  be  left  \ 

Having  pondered  these  it 
advice  from  his  council,  ca 
chamber,  he  gave  a  large  sht 
shall  dictate.' '  The  secrets 
repeated  every  word  that  be 
the  most  friendly  terms  to  C 

for    lKonr»    *r\    n%^n*      •— U^ 


^ 


JOAN  !< 


ined  the  private  ei^el  of  ihe  ijitke,  which 
Um  letter,  and  read  it  Iwo  or  three  timen  ovet.  and  wa«  miirh  astoiii*lied 
■I  the  Trieiidly  luid  alTcctionate  terms  in  which  ii  was  compounded. 
After  niuaini;  some  time,  he  told  the  varlet  he  would  consider  his  antwer, 
■nd  ordered  him  to  be  conducted  to  an  apartment  by  biniseir.  The> 
attendnnis  o(  the  lord  of  Clisson  were  amazed  ai  what  they  saw  usl' 
hmnl,  for  never  before  had  any  one  come  from  the  duke  of  Brelagnc^ 
withfiul  Iwing  mured  in  the  deepest  dungeon.' 

Otsson  wrote,  in  return,  that  if  the  duke  wished  lo  see  hiin,  he  mUMt 
■end  Uis  son  as  a  pled^,  who  would  be  taken  the  greatest  enre  of  tiU> 
faia  return.  This  letter  was  sealed  and  given  to  the  varlet,  who  hnstened 
bwk  to  the  duke  at  Vannes.  On  receiving  the  letter  from  the  lord  of' 
Clisson,  he  paused  after  reading  it,  then  exclaimed — 

"I  will  do  it:  for,  since  1  mean  to  treat  amicably  with  him,  every 
CMiM  of  distrust  must  be  removed."  He  then  said  to  the  viscount 
Rohu).  **  Viscount,  you  and  the  lord  de  Monboucher  shall  carry  my 
little  aon  lo  the  chateau  Josseliu,  and  bring  back  with  you  the  lord  tie 
ClisBon,  for  I  am  determined  to  make  up  our  quarrel."  Some  day*, 
however,  elapsed  before  tlie  duchess  could  resolve  to  purl  with  her  boy. 
At  length,  her  eumest  desire  of  composing  the  strife  overcame  h^r 
matenial  fears,  and  she  permitted  her  kinsman.  Kolian,  lo  conduct  the 
pnncely  child  to  castle  Josselin.  When  Clisson  saw  the  boy,  and  per- 
c«iv«d  the  confidence  the  duke  had  placed  in  htm,  he  was  much  aflected. 

The  result  was,  thai  he  and  the  duke's  envoy  set  out  together  from 
caaile  Josselin,  carrying  the  boy  with  them,  for  sir  Oliver  said  —  "He 
would  give  him  back  to  his  parents,  as  henceforth  he  should  never  dia- 
inul  the  dnke,  after  the  trial  he  had  made  of  him."  Such  generosity 
was  ehown  on  both  sides,  that  it  was  no  wonder  tt  firm  peace  was  the 
eoDMquence.  Sir  Oliver  dismounted  at  the  convent  of  Dominicans,  the 
plmce  where  the  interview  was  appointed  to  take  place.  When  the  duke 
of  Drelagne  found  that  sir  Oliver  had  brought  back  his  son,  he  was 
higMy  delighted  with  his  genen>aily  and  courteBv,  and,  hastening  to  the 
convent,  shut  himself  up  in  a  chamber  with  sir  Oliver.  Here  they  con- 
versed some  time;  then  they  went  privately  down  the  garden,  and 
entered  a  small  boat  that  conveyed  them  to  ati  empty  ship  anchored  in 
the  river,  and,  when  at  a  distance  from  their  people,  they  conferred  fat 
B  long  time.  Their  friends  thought  all  the  time  they  were  conversing 
^.ia  Ihe  convent-chamber.  When  they  had  arranged  all  mailers  ihw 
^^anvily.  they  called  their  boatman,  who  rowed  them  to  the  church  of 

^ 


I 


4 


I  Domitricans,  which  they  entered  by  a  private  door  through  the 


D  and  cloisters,  the  duke  holding  sir  Oliver  by  the  hand  all  the 
All  who  saw  them  thus  were  well  pleased ;  indeed,  the  whole  of 
BiMagnc  was  made  very  happy  when  this  peace  was  made  public;  but. 
»wing  to  the  extreme  precautions  of  the  duke,  no  one  knew  what  passed 
iuring  the  conference  on  the  river. 

Such  is  the  very  interesting  account  given  by  Frojsmrt,  of  t)ie  ri 
nliation  of  these  two  deadly  enemies.     The  Breton  chroniclers  w 


I  uie  recoo'^H 
ers  attribu^^^l 


I 


I 


H  JOARNAOFKAVAKRS. 

the  paciiiration  wholly  lo  the  iiilluence  of  Joanna,  aii  appliniifia  fannf 
been  niaile  in  lier  bv  vUcnunt  Itohan,  itie  husband  of  tier  nuni,  ptayiw 
her  gooil  offices  in  roedialiiig  a  peaco  belwcen  bcr  lonl  Slid  the  km 
peers  of  firem^e.  In  coinplianre  with  ihis  request,  she  {irevaileil  w 
the  duke  to  raise  ilie  aiei^  of  Jossalin,  anil  to  make  those  coaecaioni  ts 
Cliason  which  produced  the  happy  result  of  putting  an  fnd  to  the  eiiil 
war.'  Clisson  agreed  to  pay  ten  thousand  franca  of  gold  la  the  dokf. 
and,  with  ihe  rest  of  the  Btelon  barons,  associated  the  diirhens  of  tin- 
tague  in  the  Rolemn  oaths  of  hom;^  which  tliey  renewed  to  lliriT 
sovereign,  on  the  28th  of  December,  13S3,  at  Nantes.* 

In  the  name  year  proposals  of  marriage  were  made  by  Joanna's  (utun 
husband,  Henry  of  Lancaster,  earl  of  Derby,  to  her  uie^re,  the  yonof 
princess  of  Navarre,  but  the  n^oliation  came  to  nothing.* 

The  following  year,  Marie  of  Bretagne,  Joanna's  eldest  dnochter.  wii 
contracted  to  the  eldest  son  of  this  prince,  (alierwards  Henry  V.)  The 
duke  of  Breiagne  engaged  to  give  Marie  one  hundml  and  &ity  ikamni 
francs  in  gold  for  her  porlinn.  "The  caslle  of  Brest,  ihoi^  al  dM 
lime  in  the  jiossession  of  the  English,  was,  at  the  especial  desire  at  ilM 
duchess  Joanna,  appointed  for  the  solemnisation  of  the  nupu»l«.  and  ^ 
residence  of  rhe  youthful  pair ;  but  afitT  the  ccssioo  of  this 
town  had  been  guaranteeil  by  Richard  II.,  the  king  of  France 
to  break  the  marriage,  by  inducing  the  heir  of  Alenqon  to  afkt  U>  miRy 
the  princess,  with  a  smaller  duwer  than  the  lieir  of  Ijuicasier  wtt  ui 
hare  received  with  her."' 

Marie  was  espoused  to  John  of  Alengon,  June  26th,  1 396.  and  i 
peculiar  animosity  always  subsisted  between  her  huabiind  and  iliB 
defrauded  Henry  of  Moimiouib.  The  heir  of  Brelngne  was  married  tu 
Jitenna  of  France  the  same  year.  I^eviously  to  this  cereniaDyi  il» 
young  bridegroom  received  the  sacrament  of  confinnsiiou  Irum  Hnuy 
bishop  of  Vunne-s,  and,  according  to  the  wish  of  his  father,  cxcjiangiil 
llie  name  of  Peter  for  that  of  John.  The  espousals  were  soleiiinistd  (t 
the  hotel  de  St.  Paul,  by  the  archbishop  of  Rouen,  in  the  prcsMiasfths 
king  and  queen  of  France,  the  queen  of  Sicily,  Ihe  duke  Mid  dacbnsitf 
Breiagjie,  and  the  dukes  of  Berri  and  Burgundy,  Joanna's  undn. 

The  duke  of  Bretagne  undertook  a  voyage  to  England,  in  I396il0 
induce  king  Richard  to  restore  to  him  the  earldom  of  Richmoad,  wkkk 
liad  been  granted  by  Richard  II.  to  his  lint  queen,  Aune  ut  Bcbtmm 
and,  Bt\er  her  deatli,  to  Jane  of  Bretagne,  the  sister  of  the  duke,  who 
was  married  to  Raoul  Basset,  an  English  knigfaL  Kicbnrd  iL  reaiMii 
Ihe  enrldom  to  the  dnke,  and  gave  htm  an  scquiilance  of  ell  his  debu  (o 
id  the  duke  did  the  same  by  him  at  Windsor,  HH6  of  April,  139)9. 
lime,"  says  Dom  Morice,  with  some  na<eft^.'' that  these  prim* 
should  settle  Lheir  accounia  together,  for  the  one  wan  oii  the  pginlaf 
deposition,  the  other,  of  death." 

It  was  in  the  following  year  that  Joanna  first  becanis  act|uutited  with 
ber  second  liusband,  Ueniy  of  Bolingbroke,  during  the  period  of  ki* 


•Dom 


nf  to     j 

1 


JOAHHA    OF   XATAMBB*  51 

btnishment  iirom  his  native  land.  Henrv  was  not  only  one  of  the  most 
accom[di8hed  warriors  and  statesmen  of  the  age  in  which  he  hved,  but 
remarlutble  for  his  fine  person  and  graceful  manners.  The  vindictiire 
jealousy  of  his  cousin,  Richard  II.  of  England,  had  pursued  him  to  the 
eourt  of  France,  and  exerted  itself  successfully  to  break  the  matrimonial 
engagements,  into  which  he  was  about  to  enter,  with  the  lady  Marie  of 
Bern,  the  daughter  of  Charies  Vl.'s  uncle.  This  princess  was  cpusin- 
gennan  to  Joanna,  and  in  all  probability  was  the  object  of  Henry's  affec* 
lion,  if  we  may  form  conclusions,  from  the  bitterness  with  which  he  evei 
appears  to  have  recurred  to  Richard's  arbitrary  interference,  for  the  pre- 
vention of  this  marriage. 

Charles  VI.  of  France,  though  he  entertained  a  personal  friendship  for 
Henry,  whom  he  regarded  as  an  ill-treated  man,  had  reluctantly  requested 
him  to  withdraw  from  his  court,  as  his  residence  there  was  displeasing 
to  Richard  II.  Henry  then  turned  his  steps  towards  Bretagne;  but, 
aware  of  the  intimate  connexion  which  subsisted  between  the  duke  and 
Richard,  he  paused  at  the  castle  of  Blois,  and  sent  one  of  the  knigh^  of 
ham  train  forward  to  announce  his  approach  to  the  court  of  Vanncs,  and 
10  ascertain  the  nature  of  the  recqytion  the  duke  might  be  disposed  to 
give  him. 

John  the  Valiant,  according  to  Froissart,  was  piqued  at  the  mistrust 
ioiplied  by  this  proceeding  on  the  part  of  Henry ;  ^  for,''  says  that  his- 
tonan,  ^  he  was  much  attached  to  him,  having  always  loved  the  duke 
of  Lancaster,  his  fiither,  better  than  the  other  sons  of  Edward  HI.  ^  Why,' 
Mud  he  to  the  knight,  ^  has  our  nephew  stopped  on  the  road  ?  It  is  fool- 
irii,  for  there  is  no  knight  whom  I  would  so  gladly  see  in  Bretagne  as 
my  lair  nephew,  the  eui  of  Derby.  Let  him  come  and  find  a  hearty 
wdcome ."  " '  When  the  eari  of  Derby  received  this  message,  he  imme- 
diately set  forward  for  the  dominions  of  the  duke  of  Bretagne.  The 
dake  of  Bretagne'  met  the  earl  at  Nantes,  and  received  him  and  his  com- 
pany with  great  joy.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  Henry  first  saw,  and, 
if  the  chronicles  of  Bretagne  may  be  relied  on,  conceived  that  esteem  for 
the  dochess  Joanna,  which  afterwards  induced  him  to  become  a  suitor 
for  her  hand.  We  find  he  was  accustomed  to  call  the  duke  of  Bretagne 
^  his  good  uncle,"  in  memory  of  his  first  marriage  with  Mary  of  Elng- 
hnid;^and  it  i9  very  probable  that,  in  accordance  with  the  manners  of 
thoee  times,  he  addrnsed  the  duchess  Joanna,  in  courtesy,  by  the  tide 
of  annt  The  archbishop  of  Canterbury  accompanied  Henry  to  the 
ooiirt  of  Bretagne  incognito,  having  just  arrived  from  England  with  an 
Invitation  to  him  from  the  Londoners  and  some  of  the  nobles  attached 
to  his  party,  urging  him  to  invade  England,  for  the  ostensible  purpose 
of  claiming  his  inheritance,  the  duchy  of  Lancaster. 

Henry  repeated  this  in  confidence  to  the  duke  of  Bretagne,  and  re- 
quested his  advice.  ^  Fair  nephew,"  replied  the  duke,  ^  the  stiaightest 
toad  is  the  sorest  and  best :  you  are  in  a  perplexing  situation,  and  ask 
advice  —  I  would  have  you  trust  the  Londoners.  They  are  powerful, 
and  will  canpd  king  Rwhard,  who,  I  understand,  has  treated  you  un- 

'PioisMrt.  •Ibid.  UVMi. 


JOAKH A 


OF    KAVABIB. 


im.   Tim 


jnilly,  to  do  as  ihey  please.  I  will  assist  you  with  vessels,  mciMHnfc 
anil  croas-bow9.  Tou  shall  be  conveyeil  to  the  Bhorea  of  EofUod  ia 
my  ships,  and  my  people  shall  defend  you  from  any  pents  yog  my 
encounter  on  the  »Qyage."  ' 

Whether  Henry  was  indebted  lo  the  good  offices  oT  the  dndieHJomn 
for  i)iis  favourable  reply  from  the  duke,  history  has  not  reconleil.  BmI, 
as  John  the  Valiant  had  hitherto  been  the  fast  frieod,  and,  as  &rM  fait 
ilisatlected  nobles  would  permit,  the  faithful  ally  of  his  rojU  b 
law,  Ricliard  II.,  and  now  that  his  suzerain,  Charles  VI.  of  Fnnc 
united  in  the  closest  bonds  of  amity  with  that  prince,  and  the  j 
heir  of  Bretagne  was  espoused  to  the  sister  of  his  queen,  it  oiai 
been  some  very  powerful  influence,  scarcely  less  iadeed  than  ih 
quence  of  a  bosom  counsellor,  that  could  have  induced  hint  to  fll 
Richard's  mortal  foe  with  the  means  of  invading  England.  Tbi  __ 
veyances  of  >*  aspiring  Lancaster"  were,  however,  prepared  U  Vtf 
and  the  duke  of  Bretagne  came  thither  with  his  guest,  when  all  ihi 
were  ready  for  his  departure.*  Henry  was  conveyed  by  ihrM  of  the 
duke's  vessels  of  war.  freighted  with  meo-ai-anns  and  croaa-bom.  This 
royal  adventurer,  tlie  banished  Lancaster,  appears  to  have  been  to  J 
who  gave  lo  ihe  mgosotU  anenms,  or  "  forget-me-not,"  " 
c  and  poetic  meaning,  by  uniting  it,  at  the  period  of  his  f 
his  collar  of  SS,  with  the  initial  letter  of  his  mot,  or  waiehwonl,  ^ 
veigiK-vous  de  moy;"  thus  rendering  it  the  symbol  of  reinemlnanutfl 
like  the  subsequent  fatal  roses  of  York,  Lancaster,  and  Stuart,  the  IQy 
of  Bourbon,  and  the  violet  of  Napoleon,  en  historical  flower.  PoeU 
and  lovers  have  adopted  the  sentiment,  which  makes  the  blue  nivaaolit 
plead  the  cauae  of  the  absent,  by  the  eloquence  of  its  popular  nukb 
"  Porget-me-not."  Few  indeed  of  those  who,  at  parting,  exchanp  this 
simple  touching  appeal  to  memory  are  aware  of  the  fact,  that  il  wsi  6m 
used  as  such  by  a  royal  Planiagenet  prince,  who  was,  pociiapa,  indditNJ 
to  the  agency  of  this  mystic  blossom  for  the  crown  of  EngUod/  Wr 
know  not  if  Henry  of  Lancaster  presented  a  myotolit  to  the  duetwM  o( 
Brelagne,  at  his  departure  from  the  court  of  Vannea,  but  he  aflbnlsda 
convincing  proof,  that  his  fair  hostess  was  not  forgotten  by  h'<%  when 
a  proper  season  arrived  for  claiming  her  remembrance. 

The  assistance  rendered  by  the  duke  of  Bretagne  to  ilie  futniv  hat- 
band of  hia  consort,  was  not  the  lost  important  action  of  his  life,  lit 
was,  ai  that  time,  in  declining  health,  and  had  once  more  iavolred  ium- 
sell'  in  disputes  with  Clisson  and  his  perty.  Qisaon's  daughter,  Mifg^ 
ret,  countess  de  Penthievres,  being  a  woman  of  an  ambitious  aikd  4tWf 
spirit,  was  perpetually  urging  her  husband  and  failter  to  set  up  the  rinl 

I  title  of  the  house  of  Blois  to  the  duchy  of  Bretagne,  and  is  accused  bf 
Alain  BouchanI,  and  other  of  the  Breton  chroniclers,  of  havitw  b 
the  death  of  John  the  Valiant,  by  poison  or  sorcery. 
: 


I 


■  Froiswrl. 

■  WillMiien:'! 
I    P    117 


Regal  Heralclrf,  p.  43.     Anstia'a  Oidn  of  tliar 


JOAHHA    OF    HATABBB.  53 

The  doke  was  carefully  attended  by  Joanna  in  hia  dying  illness.  By 
a  codicil  to  his  last  will  and  testament,  which  he  had  made  during  his 
iaie  Tisit  to  England,  he  confirms  her  dower  and  all  his  former  gifts  to 
his  beloved  companion,  the  duchess  Joanna,'  whom,  with  his  eldest  son 
John,  count  de  Montfort,  the  bishop  of  Nantes,  and  his  cousin  the  lord 
Montauban,  he  nominates  his  executors.  The  document  concludes  witli 
these  words :  ^  In  the  absence  of  others,  and  in  the  presence  of  our  said 
companion  the  duchess,  this  codicil  is  signed,  26th  day  of  October, 
1399.  Dictated  by  our  said  lord  the  duke  from  his  sick  bed,  and  given 
under  his  seal  in  the  castle  tower,  near  Nantes,  about  the  hour  of  ves- 
pers, in  the  presence  of  the  duchess ;  Gile,  a  knight ;  Master  Robert 
Brocherol,  and  Joanna  Chesnel,  wife  of  Guidones  de  Rupeforte.  Writ- 
ten by  J.  de  Ripe,  notary,  at  the  castle  at  Nantes.^" 

On  the  1st  of  November,  1399,  the  duke  breathed  his  last;  and  Jo- 
anna having  been  appointed  by  him  as  regent  for  their  eldest  son,  the 
young  duke,  with  the  entire  care  of  his  person,  assumed  the  reins  of 
government  in  his  name.'  Her  first  public  act,  after  the  funeral  of  her 
deceased  lord  had  been  solemnised  in  the  cathedral  church  of  Nantes, 
was  a  public  reconciliation  with  sir  Oliver  Clisson,  with  his  son-in-law, 
coont  de  Penthievres,  and  the  rest  of  the  disafi^ted  nobles,  who  had 
been  at  open  variance  with  her  deceased  lord.^  She  employed  the  pre- 
lates, and  some  of  the  most  prudent  of  the  nobles  of  Bretagne,  to  medi- 
ate Uiis  pacification ;  and,  after  many  journeys  and  much  negotiation, 
concessions  were  made  on  both  sides,  and  Clisson,  with  the  rest  of  the 
malcontents,  swore  to  obey,  the  widowed  duchess,  during  the  minority 
of  their  young  duke,  her  son.  This  treaty  was  signed  and  sealed  at  the 
castle  of  Blein,  January  1,  1400.*  Gisaon^s  power  in  the  duchy  was  so 
great,  owing  to  his  vast  possessions  there,  his  great  popularity,  and  his 
infiuence  as  constable  of  France,  that  he  might  have  been  a  most  formi- 
dable enemy  to  the  young  duke,  if  the  duchess-regent  had  not  taken 
such  laudable  pains  to  conciliate  him.' 

'In  the  year  1395,  a  very  rich  addition  to  the  dower  of  Joanna  was  assi^ed 
by  the  duke,  her  husband.     Chron.  de  Bretagne.     Dom  Morice. 

*  Preuvei  Historiques.  ■  Actes  de  Bretagne. 

'  Cliron.  de  Bretagne.     Preuves  Hist  *Actos  de  Bretagne. 

'Alain  Bouchard  gives  a  very  interesting  account  of  Clisson 's  conduct  when 
tempted  by  bis  daughter  Marguerite,  the  wife  of  the  ri\'al  claimant  of  the  duchy, 
to  destroy  the  infant  family  of  tlie  late  duke  when  the  death  of  that  prince  had 
IrA  their  destinies,  in  a  great  measure,  in  his  hands.  Marguerite,  having  heard 
iSnt  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  the  uncle  of  the  duchess  Joanna  and  tlie  king  of 
France,  was  likely  to  have  the  guardianship  of  the  duchy  and  of  die  perMns,  of 
the  princely  minors,  flew  to  the  apartment  of  her  father,  exclaiming  in  great  agi- 
laiion-— ^  My  lord,  my  father!  it  now  depends  on  you,  if  ever  my  husband  reco- 
ver his  inheritance!  We  have  such  beautiful  chiUlren,  I  be^eech  you  to  assist 
U4  fuT  their  takes."  "  What  is  it  you  would  have  me  do ?"  said  Clisvon.  "Can 
yna  not  slay  the  children  of  the  false  duke,  before  the  duke  of  Burgundy  can 
come  to  Bretagne?'*  replied  she.  "Ah,  cruel  and  perverse  woman!''  exclaime<l 
her  &ther,  with  a  bur^t  of  virtuous  indignation ;  **  if  thou  livest  longer,  thou  wilt 
be  the  caose  of  involving  thy  children  in  iniamy  and  ruin.*'  And  drawing  his 
sword,  in  the  first  transports  of  his  wrath  he  would  have  slain  her  on  the  tpoc, 


I 


i 


6-i  30ATIKA    OF    nAVAKRB. 

IVhen  Joaniia  ]ind  exereiseil  the  sovereign  anihorilr  as  rvgent  fer  ber 
son  a  year  and  u  half,  the  young  iluke,  accompanied  by  hM,  nwlr  bti 
solemn  entmncc  inio  Rennes,  !klarcli  22,  1401,  and  look  thn  raihi  in 
the  presence  of  his  prclaies  and  Dohlee.  having  entered  his  iweifth  year. 
He  then  proceeded  to  the  catheJtat,  and,  according  to  the  ruaWm  <rf'the 
dukes,  his  predecessora,  passed  the  night  in  prayer  before  the  gmialor 
ol'  Si.  Peter.  On  the  morrow,  having  heard  mass,  he  was  hni^hied  br 
ClisHon,  and  then  conlerred  knighthood  on  his  younger  brothm,  Atlhw 
aadJulos;  arter  whieli  he  was  invested  with  the  ducal  hatni,  drtlM. 
and  swoi'd,  by  his  prelates  and  nobles,  and  carried  in  procesaioo  thm^ 
ihe  city. 

When  the  ecclesiastical  ceremony  was  ended,  the  young  dtike  modBted 
his  horse,  and,  attended  by  his  nobles,  relumeil  to  llie  castle  of  RenMi, 
where  a  royal  banquet  had  been  prepared  under  the  auspices  of  dH 
duchess-regent.' 

Joanna  put  her  son  in  possession  of  \he  duchy  at  so  tender  mi  tft, 
SB  a  preliminary  to  her  union  with  Henry  [V.,  who  had  been  in  a  gnU 
measure  indebted  to  the  good  offices  of  her  late  lord  for  hia  elentioi  U 
ihe  throne  of  England.  Henry  had  been  for  some  years  a  widowtr; 
his  tirel  wife  was  Mary  de  Bohun,  the  co-heiress  of  the  earl  of  Ilertfonl. 
lord-constable  of  England.' 

Joonna,  to  whom  tlie  proposal  of  a  union  with  this  prince  appnn  in 
have  been  peculiarly  agreeable,  being  aware  that  a  serious  obstacle  tiiiiHl 
on  the  important  subject  of  religion,  kept  the  a^r  a  profound  teaUt 
till  she  could  obtain  from  the  pope  of  Avignon  a  genemi  dispCRsatioB  H 
marry  any  one  whom  she  pleased,  within  the  fourth  degree  of  coimB- 
guinity,  without  naming  the  person;'  Henry  ^who  had  bt-eti  cdocaKd 
in  Wickliffiie  principles),  being  at  that  time  attached  to  the  pany  t-f 
Boniface,  the  pope  of  Home,  or  the  ami-pope,  as  he  was  styled  by  liiosc 
who  denied  his  authority. 

iftlie  liad  not  fled  precipiatplf  from  his  pi9firnD«.  "Sh*  did  not  w)K>l)r«E>r* 
ptinisbmi-al,"  adds  Ihe  olironicrffi,  "  for  in  licr  fKgtil  rhe  fell,  md  biste  bo 
ihigh-bonc,  of  which  the  was  Inme  for  the  lesl  of  her  life."' 

'Atain  Bouchard.     Dom  Morice. 

*She  wiu  gr«B.i-giBnd<ditugtiier  to  Edwkrd  I.,  and  Eleanors  of  CoMiUr, ml  lt« 
riclien  heiieu  in  Englaod,  exceptiog  her  ainer,  who  was  manrisd  to  Htv^'t 
uncle.  Glouceiter.    She  hud  poucfsions  lo  the  amoDni  of  Ibriy  thonnnd  na6)n 
per  annum,  arising  Itoiii  sereral  eaildoms  and  toionief.    She  was  ^ettmi  »  > 
conTenruai  life  hj  her  iniere«ted  broihrr-in-law.  who  hod  her  in  miniltlufs  M 
evaded  that  deslinr  by  marrying  Henry  of  Lancasier,  who,  bjr  tbo  raamnv* 
Of  her  aunt,  carried  ber  olT  fhim  Pleahy.  and  marriHl  her.  13M.     5h«  dM  U 
tiie  blooRi  of  life  in  1394,  leaving  six  infants — namely,  tbo  renowfisd  Jirrlh  >  - 
Thomai  duke  of  Clarence.  John  duke  of  Bedford,  tegem  of  Frjy  -'■   --  •  "  - 
phrey  dake  of  Glouoeiier,  pRxector  of  England ;  Blanche,  lanrn'  ' 
Palatine,  and  Pfallippn,  lo  Eric,  king  of  Denmark,  the  unworthy  i. 
Waldemar.    It  was  ftom  Mary  Bohun  that  Henry  derived  hi>  ■■- 
Hereford,    Tbough  her  decease  happened  «o  many  years  before  li:    ■ 
the  royal  digni-y  he  cameil  masses  lo  be  said  for  the  icpose  Of  her 
Ihe  tiiie  of  qucei.  Mary,  by  tlie  monks  of  Siira  Abbey,  wb)«h  ha  C 
*--  eamc  to  the  thnne  of  l^nglan-!. 

Lobioetk'i.    Preuvc»  U»t.  ^  fim^k^ua. 


JOAKK  A    OF    K  AV 


IBRI. 


^        ITa  agents  ofgotiateJ  tliis  ditHcull  arrangement  so  tdtoiily,  that 
p'bull  was  execuiei],  aci-ordtn^  lo  lipf  desire,  Murrh  'iO,  1403,  without 

■  •ligbtcsi  suapiciou  being  eiilcrUiineil,  by  [lie  oriho<li<x  court  of  Avig- 
I,  liiHi  llie  schtsmaiic  kiug  of  England  was  die  mysierious  peraon, 
liin  the  forbidden  degrees  of  coiiHtDguiiuty,  whom  Benedict  had 
uingly  grauted  ihe  duchess-dowager  of  Brelagiie  liberty  lo  espoui 

la  had  thus  ouiivilled  her  pope,  she  despatched  a  Uw 
Mire  of  her  houschnhl,  named  Antoine  Kiczi,  to  conclude  her  ireit 
f  maniage  with  king  Henry.     After  tlie  articles  of  iliis 
kUiAJQce  were  signed,  Joanna  and  her  royal  bridegroom  were  espousi 
by  procur«tion,  at  the  palace  of  Elthnm.  on  the  third  Jay  of  April,  U( 
Antoine  Rieai  acting  as  ihe  proxy  of  the  bride.'     W'hal  motive  coi 
h«Te  induced  the  lovely  widow  of  John  the  Vatianl  of  Breiague  lo 
choose  a  male  representative  on  thU  interesting  uccasiuni  ii  is  difficult 
lo  say  i  but  it  is  certain  that  Henry  promised  lo  lake  his  august  jiancit 
I  wife  in  the  person  of  the  said  Antoine  Ricii,  to  whom  he  plighted 
]^  nuptial  troth,'  and  on  his  finger  he  placed  the  bridal  ring.*    This  act 
ft  performed  wiili  gieai  solemniiy  in  the  presence  of  the  archbUhop 
LChiiierbury,  the  king's  hall' brothers,  (he  Beaufort  princes,  the  e«tl  oif 
Btcester,  lord-chamberlain  of  England,  and  other  uiticers  of  state.' 
Ricxi  had  previously  produced  a  letter  from  the  iluchess  Joanna  em' 
pering  bitn  to  contract  nutnmony  with  the  king  of  England  in  her 
;  on  which  die  trusty  squire,  having  received  king  Henry's  plight, 
uncnl  that  of  Joanna  in  these  words  : — 
F*  I,  Antoine  Riczi,  in  the  person  of  my  worshipful  lady,  dame  Joanna, 

I  daiiehter  of  Charles,  lately  king  of  Kavarre,  duchess  of  Bretagne, 
3  of  Richmond,  lake  you,  Henry  of  Lancasler,  king  of  Eng- 

ktnl  and  loni  of  Ireland,  to  my  husband,  and  thereto  I,  Antoine,  in  the 
spirit  of  my  said  lady,  plight  you  my  troth.'" 

No  sooner  was  this  ceremony  concluded  than  the  rigid  canonists 
eseoied  to  Joanna,  that  she  would  commit  a  deadly  sin  by  complex 
{  her  marriage  with  a  pritice  attached  to  the  communion  of  pope  Boar- 
The  case,  however,  not  being  without  precedent,  the  court  of 
n  thought  it  hctt«r  to  quiet  the  conscience  of  ibe  duchess,  thinking 
il  possible  that  great  advaiiiages  might  be  derived  from  her  forming  an 
alliance  with  the  king  of  England;  whose  religious  principles  hod 
hitlierlo  been  any  thing  but  stable.'  She  obtained,  July  23,  permtasioa 
of  Iter  pope  to  live  with  the  schismatic  catholics,  and  even  outwardly  la 
'      '         o  them  by  receiving  the  sacraments  from  thrir  hands.  proviiM' 

II  ahe  nunained  firmly  attached  to  the  party  of  Benoit  XIH.' 
Meantime  tlie  court  of  France  beheld  with  alarm  lite  proceedings 

■  dnchess.  apprehending,  and  with  reason,  that  it  was  her  intention 
/  het  children  with  her  to  England,  and  to  attach  them  to  ilie  inter- 

I  of  ihejr  royal  step-father.     The  duke  of  Burgundy,  who,  at  tliU 


-I 


ca.  ■  Dom  Monro.    Chran  ds  Brpisgns 

'  Aru  of  the  Privy  Council,  tijr  tli  lUm*  Nieolm 
Hir.  d'!  Brtcitgiia.  '  MS.  Clii 


Ida 

% 


J 


i,  had  the  principal  direction  of  the  gorerntneni  of  FraaMilt 
thai  lo  counietact  king  Henry's  policy,  il  noiilJ  he  Tiecrwwrr  ftr 
n  person  to  BreUi^iie.  He  proceeded  to  Nanips  na  ibr  II 
October.  The  duchess,  having  heard  of  his  arrival,  inriteO  him  lo 
ner,  and  reg^ed  him  sumptuously.  The  iluke,  on  hii  pnrl,  hanaf  p^ 
jmna  a  treat  of  a  more  impurianl  kind  for  the  duchess,  preseuted  Iwr,a 
the  coDclnsion  of  the  repast,  with  a  rich  crown  and  a  sceptre  of  o^lhl, 
&na  another  of  gold,  onumented  with  pearls  and  precious  aioaM.  Hi 
gave  the  yoang  duke  a  buckle  of  gold,  adorned  with  rubies  and  pMilii 
a  beautiful  diamond,  and  a  number  of  silver  vessels.  To  each  ti  Ui 
litile  brothers,  Arthur  earl  of  Kirhmoiid.  »nd  count  Jules  of  BrenpiA 
he  presented  a  collar  of  gold,  enriched  with  rubies  and  pearls.  He  pm 
the  countess  of  Rohan,  Joanna's  aunt,  a  splendid  diamond  ;  anil  a  bwkk 
to  each  of  her  ladies  and  damsels  who  were  present.  The  lonl*  in- 
wailing  and  officers  of  the  duchess's  household,  were  not  fnrgotlto  it 
this  magnificent  disiributiua  of  largKues,  in  which  the  duke  espondid 


These  discreet  gifi-i  entirely  gained  the  heart  of  the  duclwM,  of  tbt 
princes,  her  children,  of  her  lords  and  officers,  but,  above  &11,  of  llai 
most  influential  coterie,  the  ladies  of  her  court  and  bedchamber.  ThPf 
were  sure  he  would  be  ihc  best  person  in  the  world  to  defend  the  ri^H 
and  protect  the  person  of  their  young  duke,  and  to  dilTuse  luppuwM  and 
prosperity  among  his  subjects ;  and  they  besought  hiul  lo  uniieftake  ikt 
guardiuuKJiip  of  the  roynl  ndtiors,  and  their  patrimony. 

The  duke  accepted  this  charge  as  the  nearest  rcUiioa  of  the  d 
of  bis  friend  and  kinsman,  the  late  duke,  and  ihe  uncle  of  th«  di 
and  awore  upon  the  holy  evangelists  lo  preserve  faithfnUjr  tbi 
liberties,  and  privileges  of  the  Bretons.  The  duchess,  having  htaa  tho- 
roughly persuaded  how  much  better  il  would  be,  fur  the  inleresia  of  fas 
children  to  leave  them  tinder  the  care  of  this  pnwerful  protector,  Au  M 
atieoBie  the  afii^ctioni  of  the  people  of  Bretagne,  by  laking  tbem  lo  &if- 
land,  subscribed  lo  the  treaty.' 

After  the  duchess  had  confided  the  g'uardianxhip  nf  her  children  Utk 
duke  of  Burgundy,  he  departed  from  Nantes  for  Paris  on  the  U  of  If» 
veinber,  I40U,  after  a  stay  of  two  months,  taking  witli  him  the  fouag 
duke  and  his  two  brothers,  Arthur  and  Jules.  The  duke  was  naif  it 
his  thirteenth  year,  and  the  younger  princes  so  small,  that  (lury  raid 
scarcely  guide  the  liorse  on  which  they  were  mounted,  one  brtinJ  till 
other.  They  were  conilucted  by  tlie  duke  of  Burgundy  to  Parcu  wIm* 
the  young  duke  of  Breiagne  performed  his  homage  to  Chario  VLcf 
France.  Joanna  had  another  son.  nameil  Richard,  an  infant,  who  is  not 
mentioned  in  ilie  Breton  ChrontcU's  as  forming  one  of  ihis  p^riy.* 

One  of  Joanna's  lasi  actions  as  duchess  of  Bretagne  woa  to  mcor  tn 
her  aunt,  Jane  of  Navarre,  ilie  wife  of  ihe  Viscouiii  Rohan,  a  pcawM  rf 
1000/.  per  year,  out  of  the  rents  of  hei  dower  cilv  and  county  of  NmM- 
Thii  deed,  which  is  printed  in  the  Ktedcra,  affords  ■  ' 


JOAHHA    OF    HATARRB.  57 

of  Joanna's  affection  for  her  deceased  lord,  as  she  expressly  states 
fllial  this  annuity  is  granted,  not  only  in  consideration  of  the  nearness  of 
kindred  and  friendship  that  is  between  her  and  her  aunt,  ^  but  also  for, 
and  in  remuneration  of,  the  good  pains  and  diligence  she  used  to  procure 
OUT  marriage  with  our  Tery  dear  and  beloved  lord  (whom  God  assoile). 
Of  which  marriage  it  has  pleased  our  Lord  and  Saviour,  that  we  should 
ciNitinue  a  noble  line,  to  the  great  profit  of  the  country  of  Bretagne,  in 
oar  very  dear  and  beloved  son,  the  duke  of  Bretagne,  and  our  other 
children,  sons  and  daughters.  And  for  this,  it  was  the  will  and  pleasure 
of  our  said  very  dear  and  beloved  lord,  if  he  had  had  a  longer  life,  to 
hare  bestowed  many  gifts  and  benefits  on  our  said  aunt,  to  aid  her  in  her 
MWteoance  and  provision.'^'     This  deed  is  executed  at  Vannes. 


JOANNA  OF  NAVARRE, 

•    .    ■ 

QUEEN  OF  HENRY  IV. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Joanna  assumes  the  title  of  queen — Writes  to  Henry  IV. — Embarks  for  England 
—Her  infknts — Perils  at  sea — Lands  at  Falmouth — Married  at  Winchester^ 
Nuptial  feast — Honours  paid  to  her  by  the  Londoners — Historical  picture  of 
her  coronation  —  Tournament  —  Her  injunctions  to  her  sons  —  King  Henry*8 
gimnu  to  Joanna — ^Arrival  of  her  son  Arthur — Joanna's  foreign  household-— 
Queen's  Breton  servants  dismissed — Income  settled  by  parliament — Marriage 
of  her  two  daughters — Peril  from  pirates — Unpopularity  of  Joanna — She  me- 
diates peace  with  Bretagne — Additions  to  her  dower — Her  moiiuuicnt  to  her 
llrtt  huslmnd — Queen's  lead  mine? — Her  influence  with  tlie  king — Sickness 
and  death  of  king  Henry — His  will — Widowhoo<l  of  Joanna — Re.^pect  paid  to 
her  by  the  new  king — Her  political  influence — Capture  of  her  son  Arthur  at 
Agincourt — Returns  public  thanks  for  the  victory  —  Afl^ccting  interview  be- 
tween Joanna  and  her  son— Joanna  a  lady  of  the  Garter — Treachery  of  her 
confessor  —  Arrested  at  Havering  Bower  —  Accused  of  sorcery  —  Goods  and 
dower  confiscated — Imprisoned  at  I-^eeils  Castle — Removed  to  Pcvensey — Her 
doleful  captivity — Henry  V.'s  death-bed  remorse — His  letter  of  restitution— 
Her  release — Petition  to  parliament — Restoration  to  her  rank  and  posses^-ion■ 
^-Conflagration  of  her  palace  at  Langley — Her  death — Her  children — Obs^ 

?uies — Her  tomb— Mysterious  reports — Exhumation  of  tlie  bodies  of  Henry 
V.  and  Joanna. 

Joanna  assumed  the  title  of  queen  of  England  some  months  before 
her  departure  from  Bretai^c,'  and  she  is  mentioned  as  such  in  all  con- 
temporary documents.  She  appears  to  have  exerted  a  sort  of  matrimo- 
nial influence  with  her  royal  bridegroom,  soon  a(\er  the  ceremonial  of 
dieir  espousals  had  been  performed  by  proxy ;  for  we  find  that  she  wrote 

■Joanna's  grant  was  confirmed  by  her  betrothed  husband,  Henry  IV.  of  Eng- 
land,  to  her  aunt,  under  his  great  seal  at  Westminster,  March  1st,  1402.  Ryiuei't 
Fttdenu  'Dom  Morice.    Rymer'i  Fcedera^  voU  x\^ 


I    68  JOAKNA    OP    HAVAKBB. 

to  Henry,  m  behalf  of  one  of  her  countrymen,  the  amaiet  of  b  If  innaa 
wine-5liir>.  wlio  had  been  plundered  of  hU  cargo,  in  Uie  rei^naftlidutd 
U.,  by  WiUiam  Prince,  a  capuin  in  the  earl  of  ArumlBl'B  Am.  Uar 
inlerceasion  proved  eOedual)  for  king  llenr^-,  as  he  ex^naaij  nm 
**  at  the  request  of  liii  de&resl  consurL,  enjoins  his  adintnl,  ThodMi 
RuropBloiie,  to  see  that  proper  satisractian  be  inade  to  the  maawt^f  ihl 
nine-«lup,  by  the  said  William  Prince."' 

Previous  to  her  departure  from  Breiagne,  Joanoa  sold  t)ie  ^ovstbdoI 
of  her  castle  of  Nantes  to  Ctiason  for  twelve  thousantl  crowm;  Kti 
having  only  larried  lo  complete  this  arrangement,  she,  on  the  20th  of 
December,  H02,  proceeded  to  Cnmaiet  with  her  two  infant  dauetilfn. 
Bluni-he  and  3Iarguerite,  tiieir  nurses,  and  a  numerous  tnin  of  bicua 
>nd  Navarrese  attendants.' 

The  English  fleet,  with  the  two  half-broihers  of  her  atlianced  bni*- 
groom,  the  earl  of  Somerset  and  Henry  Beaufort,  bishop  of  Lincoln,  wilk 
Thomas  Percy,  earl  of  Worcester,  the  lord-chsmbeilain  of  England.*  W 
keen  waiting  at  that  poit  a  considerable  lime.  Joanna,  with  her  dmgt 
l«rs  and  her  retinue,  embarked  at  Camaret,  January  13ih,  in  a  nmii<t 
war  commanded  by  the  yoting  earl  of  Arundel.*  The  expedicioa  mid 
ihe  same  day  with  a  favourable  wind,  but  encountered  a  dreadful  lettipW 
&I  sea,  by  which  the  vessels  were  much  damaged.  After  tossing  6n 
days  and  five  nights  on  ihe  wintry  waves,  Joanna  and  her  chililrca  ««n 
driven  on  the  coa^t  of  Cornwall ;  and  instead  of  landing  at  SoutlutmpnOi 
iheir  original  deatinaiiou,  they  disembarked  at  Falmouth.  From  ihwN 
the  illustrious  travellers  proceeded  to  Winchester,  where  king  Hmj 
was  in  waiting  with  his  lords,  lo  receive  his  long-expected  bride.  1)t 
nuptials  between  Joanna  and  Henry  were  publicly  solemniaed,  FobnaiT 
7lh,  1403.  in  that  ancient  royaX  city,  in  the  church  of  St.  Swithrn,  witt 
great  pomp.'  The  bridal  least  was  very  costly,  having  two  coqims  M 
Ash,  and,  at  the  end  of  the  second,  panthers  crowned  were  inttvduoni 
for  what  was,  in  the  quaint  language  of  the  times,  called  a  ^talt^U^ 
or  bniiquet  ornament  of  confectionary.  Eagles,  crowned,  f«misl  A* 
soitiliie.  at  the  end  of  the  third  course.' 

Great  prepatalioUB  were  made  by  the  citizens  of  London  la  mcdai 
welcome  the  newly-married  consort  of  the  sovereign  of  their  cIkmcc  *■ 
her  approach  to  the  metropolis.     Among  other  expenses  fur  llie  ait 

g'ocossion  ordained  in  her  honour,  tlie  Grocers'  Compaity  aUoxd 
obert  Stiens,  their  beadle,  6s.  Sd.  for  riding  into  Suflolk  lo  hii«  nu* 
■treU  ;  he  engaged  &ix — namely,  a  panel  myntlraU  et  fci  rampaga^' 
probably  meaning  companions.     This  Suffi>lk  musical  band  wa«  pv' 

'Kymer'i  Fiedeis.     Ibid.  *  Dom  Morioe.  *  ttjrmm'i  Faitm 

'  Hp  was  ihe  ton  of  tlie  brave  Richard  Fiizallan.  lord^dmimi  or  Eiiftanl,  <H0 
was  behesiled  by  Richard  U.  There  is  in  Ibe  eigbth  voluiae  of  RhinBrrB  Dntf 
(upplicaticn  Jiom  ibis  noblemaa  lo  tbe  king,  "  aettiiiK  lotlh  tfaal  be  Itrnd  pmlM. 
bjr  (be  royal  coramiunl,  a  ship  well  appoinieil  »"  '  ' 

mariner*,  for  ibc  service   of  bringing  our  Im' 
Dmying  lo  be  reimburaed  from  the  eichequei 

•  Afu  of  Privy  rouncil.  by  at  H.  Nict ' 

■Willcmenl'i  Kesal  Oetaldrf,  ]/.  31. 


I 


I 


JOANXA    OF    MAVAERK.  59 

■'■-  pounrfi,  fnr  tilling  lo  Blackiieaih  lo  meet  ilie  queen.     The  inayori 
ililermen,  and  ahenilx,  went  oui  in  procesBion  nn  Ihis  occasion,  with 
rrnfta  in  broun  aiitt  blue,  and  every  man  a  red  hood  on  hie  head. 
II  Joanna  rcaied  ilic  ti:sl  day  at  the  Tower.     Tlial  iihe  went  la 
imiiiBier  in  ^od  procession  on  llie  following,  is  ucerlainMl  by  ihe 
.    lor  paying  the  said  SulTulk  minstrels  13a.  4d^  on  ihe  morrow, 
II  the  queen  passril  through  Cheapside  lo  WeBlminsler.' 
'   K're  is  nn  eii|uisit«  drawing  in  a  contempoTary  manufcript,'  illns- 
•'  >if  Juannn's  coroiinliun,  which  look  plane,  February  29th,  1403, 
jUiIe  three  weeks  aAer  her  bridal.    She  is  there  represented  ae  a 
■J.  iimjesiic  and  graceful  wonnn,  in  the  meridian  glory  of  her  days, 
tilh  a  fofiu  of  the  nio«l  symmetrical  proportions,  and  a  coontenance  of 
qual  beauty.     Her  aiiLinde  is  thai  of  easy  dignity.    She  is  depicted 
n  bar  coronation  robes,  which  are  of  a  peculiarly  elegant  form.     Her 
laltndtjca  differs  little  in  fashion  from  that  worn  by  our  sovereign  lady 
'  '11  Victoria,  at  her  inaueuraiion.     It  pariially  displays  her  throat  and 
:.  and  is  cloM-d  at  the  breast  with  a  rich  cordon  and  tassels.    The 
.:le  has  apertures  through  which  her  arms  are  seen ;  Ibey  are  bare, 
■. iry  fiotly  moulded.     Slie  is  enthronnd,  not  by  the  side  of  her  royal 
iiiid,  but  with  the  same  ceremonial  honours  that  are  juiid  lo  a  queen- 
tut,  in  a  chair  of  state  placed  singly  under  b  rich  cnnopy,  em- 
i  iiicd,  nnd  elevated  oii  a  Tery  higlf  plaU'orm,  of  an  hexagonal  shape, 
'  'luched  on  every  aide  by  six  steps.    Two  archbishojM  have  just 
.'  iiL-d  her,  and  are  still  svpporiing  the  royal  diadem  on  her  head. 
hiur  fulls  in  rich  curls  on  her  bosom.     In  her  right  hand  she  holds 
'  |iire,  and  in  her  left  an  orb  surmounted  by  a  cross — a  very  unusual 
,    ute  for-B  (lueeii-consort,  as  it  is  a  symbol  of  sovereignty,  nnd  could 
liave  been  iitloweO  lo  queen  Joanna  as  a  very  especial  mark  of  her 
il  bridegroom's  favour. 

[  I  this  picture,  a  peeress  in  her  coronet  and  robes  of  stale,  probably 
iipying  the  office  of  miatress-of'ihe-robes,  stands  next  the  person  of 
lueon.  on  her  right  hand,  and  just  behind  her  are  seeti  a  group  of 
-ic  maidens  wearing  wreaths  of  roses,  like  the  imin-bearem  of  her 
I'  "ty  queen  Victoria  ;  affording  a  curious  bnt  probably  forgotten  his- 
.-nl  testimony,  that  such  was  the  costume  piescribed  anciently,  by 
-umpiuary  regulations  for  the  courtly  demoiselles,  who  were  ap- 
rLiiii'd  lo  the  honour  of  bearing  a  queen  of  England's  liain  at  her  coro- 

Ai  tltis  ceremonial,  John  lord  de  Lalimer  received  forty  marks,  for 
l^n*e  of  the  almoner's  dish  placed  before  queen  Joanna,  on  the  day  of 
her  coronation,  he  having  tlie  hereditary  right  of  almoner  on  such  occa-  i 

iiiiang  oilier  courtly  pageants  at  queen  Joanna's  coronation,  a  Innma-     ^^^ 

.1  wa*  held,  in  which  Beaiichamp,  earl  of  Warwick,  maintained  the    ^H 

li<i>  ia  honour  of  the  royal  bride.     In  the  pictorial  chronicles  of  tha    ^H 

I'  Hubert's  Hiilory  or  Ibe  Livery  Compuiies,  ^^M 

■Conimian  MS.    Juliui  E.  4,  fblio  KO.    Slow'*  Antmli.  ^M 

•bwa  Eollj,  aS7.  ^M 


NUO 


JOANNA 


IP    NATASSE 


I 


I 

1 

I 


lift  and  arw  of  ihk  chivalric  peer,'  who  was  surnamed  ihe  ronrlMSt,il 
is  said  that  ^  he  kepi  jcusl  on  the  queen's  part  againai  all  ntfan  comoi, 
and  so  iioiably  and  knightly  behaved  liimself,  a*  rvdoatided  Vo  hu  DoUc 
fiune  and  perpetaal  worship." 

This  <tuaini  sentence  is  in  eiplanaiion  of  another  historinl  ^wi^ 
in  which  •*  queen  Jane,"  as  she  is  iliere  stylefl,  is  rppresenlcJ  litliitf  n 
elate  with  the  hing,  attended  by  her  Inilies  in  an  open  ^teiy,  betKHOf 
with  evidf.nt  saiislkciioD  the  prowess  of  her  champion. 

Instead  of  her  royal  robes,  tlie  queen  is  here  represealed  In  a  rm 
Gtling  close  to  her  shape,  and  has  exchanged  her  crown,  for  oiu  i^  At 
lofly  Syrian  caps,  then  the  prevailing  head-dress  for  ladies  of  tuk  ii  | 
Engbnd,  with  its  Urge,  stiff,  transparent  veil,  supported  on  a  fnme-mA 
Kt  least  two  feet  in  height 

The  queen's  ladies-in-waiting  wear  hoods  and  veils  tbtt  emtfJif 
dmped,  and  by  no  means  emnUiing  the  towering  head-gear  oTtheuinid 
mistress. 

King  Henry  b  by  queen  Joanna's  side,  wearing  a  furred  gown  wi 
velvet  cap  of  maintenance,  looped  up  with  sJleur-dc-K*.  Uis  Bppaaaci 
is  titat  of  a  gallant  gentleman  in  middle  life.  The  balcoay,  in  wbich  4t 
royal  bride  and  bridegroom  are  seated,  is  not  unlike  ih«  royal  Hi^M 
Ascot,  only  more  exposed  to  public  view ;  and  the  king  and  qvMii  m 
both  accomniodated  with  the  luxury  of  large  square  rushioaa  Tot  dn 
elbows,  with  laasels  at  the  comers.  King  Henry  sits  qoitc  il  om 
resting  his  anns  on  hie  cushion,  but  tlie  queen  leans  fonnud  axid  rttmb 
her  hands  with  a  gesture  of  great  animation,  as  she  looks  down  obA> 
contesL  Warwick  has  just  struck  his  opponent.  He  vnmrt  the  tac 
and  ragged  slaCon  his  helmet.  This  historical  sketch,  besides  it*  flH 
beauty,  is  very  valuable  for  its  delineation  of  costume. 

Joanna  of  Navarre  was  the  first  widow,  since  the  NorruM  MOMMt 
who  wore  the  crown-mairimoDial  of  England.  She  wa8,«sweBtt 
seen,  the  mother  of  a  large  family-  Her  age,  at  the  period  of  lKr•^ 
codU  nuptials,  must  have  been  about  three-end-thirtv ;  and  if  fad  t* 
morning  freshness  of  her  charms,  her  peraonal  attractions  were  still  n 
considerable.  Her  monumental  eSigy  represents  her  as  ■  tnpdrif 
miniiie  loveliness.  Her  exemplary  conduct  as  the  wife  of  t 
irascible  prince  in  Christendom,  and  the  excellence  of  her  go 
as  regent  for  her  eldest  son,  had  afforded  unquesiionabPe  eviileB 
prudence  and  wisdom  of  this  princess ;  and  she 
very  Gue  dower ;  yet  the  marriage  was  never  popular  in  Englw 

Il  has  been  asserted,  by  many  hisloriaos,  that  Henry  IV.  m 
duchess-dowager  of  Bretagne,  chiefly  with  the  view  of  dira 
councils  of  the  young  duke  her  son.     If  such  were  his  c 
were  completely  frustrated  by  the  maternal  feeling*  o(  JtmoM,'^ 
Dohly  consulting  the  welfaie  of  her  son,  and  the  wishes  o(  his  m ' ' 
rather  tlian  the  iiilerests  of  her  second  husband,  placed  Im  d 
we  hare  seen,  under  tlie  protection  of  the  dake  of  Bargoody,  [ 


JOAKNA    or    IfAVABBE.  Gl 

lepttrture  from  Brtlagne ;  and  even  afier  her  comnalioti  as  queen 
tt  EiiglDiii],  we  find,  by  her  letters  dated  Weslminster,  Alarcb  9th,  1403, 
ihM  ehe  confirms  ber  last  net  as  ducliess-rPgent  of  Breia^e  by  solemnlj' 
tf^iointing  **  her  well-beloved  iiiide,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  the  gosrdkii 
N  ber  son« — Juhn,  duke  of  Breiagne,  Arthur,  and  Jules — and  enjoins 
ifaoae  yuuiig  princes  to  be  obedient  to  hini,  end  to  uitend  ddigently  to 
hi*  advicer' 

The  bridHl  fetlivities  of  Henry  FV.  and  his  new  queen  were  conn  in- 
'^:pi(Hl,  by  the  news  of  a  descent  of  the  French,  on  the  Isle  of 
jtii;  but  the  iuhabitauM  cumpelled  (he  ioTaders  to  retjre  lo  iheir 
y^  witli  dishonour.  Next  the  Breton  flee  I,  being  wholly  under  the 
lion  of  llie  court  of  France,  put  to  aca  and  committed  great  ilepre- 
I'HLS  on  the  coast  of  Cornwall,  and  on  the  merchant  shipping,  caus- 
iiiuch  uneasiness  to  the  king,  and  rendering  the  new  queen  disiute- 

'I'he  memorable  Percy  rebellion  occurred  in  the  same  year ;  and  It 
bfts  been  eaid  that  this  was  fomented  by  the  earl  of  Worcester,  in  cnnso- 
^ence  of  a  disagreement  between  him  and  queen  Joanna  during  her 
vojage  from  Bretagne.  This  might  possibly  have  originated  in  some 
dispute  with  Joanna's  natural  brother,  Charles  of  Navarre,  who  accom- 
panied her  to  England  in  the  capacity  of  chamberlain  to  berst-lf.'  Be 
this  as  It  may,  it  is  almost  certain  that  the  battle  of  Shrewsbury  might 
have  been  prevented,  if  Worcester,  who  was  employed  by  the  insurgent 
lords  to  negotiate  a  pacification  with  Henry,  had  fairly  and  hoiicsll)r 
•(■ted  the  concessions  the  king  was  willing  to  make;  but  he  did  not, 
Bod  his  own  ruin,  with  that  of  his  whole  house,  was  the  result/  Part 
a(  tlw  confiscated  properly  of  ihe  Percys,  especially  the  earl  of  Norlh- 
nnberland's  mansion  in  Aldgale,  was  granted  to  <)neeu  Joanna  by  the 

In  the  year  1404,  Henry  IV.  granted  to  queen  Joanna  tlie  new  tower, 
M  the  riitr&nce  of  the  great  portals  of  his  large  hall,  against  the  palsca 
of  Westminster,  adjacent  to  tlie  king's  treasury,  for  her  to  hold  her 
councils,  and  for  the  negotiation  of  her  a&irs;  also,  for  her  to  hold  her 
■ndi»nce>s  for  charters  and  writings  theiein;  the  queen  to  hold  the 
Mme,  for  the  term  of  her  natural  life,  having  free  ingress  and  egress  for 
bcnelf  and  officers  to  the  said  tower.' 

In  the  month  of  February,  1404,  Joanna  enjoyed  the  happiness  of 
wdcouiing  ber  second  son,  Arthur  of  Breiagne,  to  England,  kiug  Henry 
having  been  prevailed  upon  by  her  solicitations  to  bestow  upon  him  the 

■Ctiton.  d*  Breiagne.  'Chmn.  tie  BiriBgne. 

■A  dnlrrminf^  let  wu  mads  agsinel  t)i«  life  of  ihe  newly  wfif<lc<I  kiog,  al 
lb*  laoulo  of  Sbievibacy,  by  a  wnain  numbpr  of  chnmpions  ■mong  ihe  huur- 

Kt,  wbi>  liwl  Kivrad  to  liais  tiii  blood.  Thin  confedem-y  beinR  mupputed  bj 
rj'*  [Aiuuni,  ihirteen  iloul  genlleinen  arrayed  UHtnnlv^  iii  drc»M  liin^ 
Ut  to  that  whicli  he  was  accuitouied  to  wear,  anil  wpre  >iuD  iu  dilferent  jwiH 
t4  (he  Arid.  Hanif  killed  no  leu  iban  >iztBeD  of  his  unilnnu,  Willi  hi*  own 
taod,  in  wlf-^ffunce  tlutday.  ud,  like  U*  ton,  the  piinoe  of  Wulci.  peitbrmad 
{vnltEiB*  of  vsluni. 
'Rjrmar't  Fatdera. 
*«_  IU. — • 


1 
I 


J 


ihocc  liclovcd  littl«  ooei  tlie  puwcrfDl 
(if  iha  ruyo]  inoiIiM'  dung  to  lier  liitia 
be  prevBiled  upon  lo  ntiga  ibaiD,  ef  «n 
iJip  ptupcny  of  BrriBgnc.' 

Ilor  ftun.  lite  diikr-  lif  BrEtagtM.  wks  j 
of  lh«  fMllicr  of  hi«  duclieta,  OharlM 
mpouBC  hi'  i]aarTt!l  kj^suuI  king  Henry 
doninians  wiiuIU  liavti  contiBOtUd  Jtw 
VHl«(l  Uie  payrueiit  of  it  in  the  handi 
&•!  friends  ;'  and  the  tisd  her  own  otBce 


Tti*t  8hn  WW  irnlisfipd  wilh  the  com 
gathered  from  (he  liirt  thnt  she  piesentc 
her,  1404,  with  the  sum  of  lovenly  tha 
bar  from  her  brother,  the  kiiiir  of  Nam 
her  renla  in  Nonnnndy.  Her  gil^  mud 
ibe  youiig  duke ;  (at,  t)iau)(h  reaidilig  ill  I 
exerciaing  the  nuvereign  auiliuriiy,  his  i 
trolled  by  the  court  of  F'isnce,  that  he 
away  more  than  one  hundred  aols,  witboi 
cellor,  and  oilier  afljcera  appointed  by  thi 

At  the  commencenieDt  of  the  year  140 
states, ''  at  ihc  uiedialion  and  earnest  snlii 
ijueen  Joanna,  forj^ve  and  hbenited,  witi 
iak«n  ill  arms  a^inai  him  a1  Dartmoul 
natural  exercise  of  conjugal  influence  in 
the  piratical  Bretons,  incfeaaed  the  unp 


JOAKNAOFNAVABRE.  G3 

Dm  influx  of  forptgnere,  which  ihe  kind's  late  marnn^  na^  intro- 
cwd  inW  ihe  tcbIiii  ;  the  disorderly  stare  of  ihe  royal  household  ;  and 
)  evil  influence  exercised  over  public  alftirs  by  certain  individuali 
jpoacd  to  be  about  the  peraons  of  the  king  and  queen." 
The«e  grievances,  as  they  were  conaidered,  altntcling  the  attention  of 
rltunent,  the  comnionE,  with  ihe  consent  of  ihe  lords,  proceeded  to 
brrn  the  royal  household  ;  and,  aa  a  preliminary  step  to  their  re^nla 
fu.  they  requireii  ihal  four  persons  should  be  removed  out  ol  the 
ig's  house ;  riz.  the  king'u  confessor,  the  abbot  of  Dore,  with  Der- 
m  uid  Croibie,  gentlemen  of  his  chamber. 

Hmry,  lemembering  full  well  that  his  title  lo  the  crown  was  derived 
n  the  voice  of  the  people,  far  from  testifving  resentment  at  the  inter- 
ence  of  that  hitherto  disregarded  branch  of  the  legialsiure  of  England, 
t  eommona,  summoned  the  inimical  members  of  hia  household  tc 
end  him  in  parliament.  February  Sih.  1404.  which  itiey  did,  with  the 
sepiion  of  the  abbot  of  Dore.  Tlie  king  then,  in  his  speech  from  the 
■one,'  said,  "  That  he  neither  knew  nor  could  imagine  any  particulai 
me  or  reason,  why  the  accused  ought  to  be  removt^  out  of  his  house- 
Id;  nevenhelese,  aa  the  lords  and  commons  thought  proper  to  have  it 
,  considering  ii  to  be  for  the  good  of  the  realm,  and  most  proiiiublB  to 
ncelf,  to  conform  himself  to  iheir  wishes,  he  would  discharge  liiera 
<m  hia  household  forihwiih."  "  Our  sovereign  lord,"  eoniinuse  the 
:ord, "  said  further,  '■  That  he  would  do  as  much  by  any  who  were 
Mil  hia  royal  person,  if  ihey  should  incur  the  haired  and  indignation 
his  people.' " 

The  commons  next  appointed  a  committee  of  lords.  Pebniary  2i,  to 
ike  further  regulniions  and  alterviions  in  the  appoiutmeuisof  iheioyst 
DM-hold,  especially  in  those  connected  with  ihe  queen,  when  it  was 
lolved,  ■'  Tliat  all  French  persons,  Bretons,  Lombards,  Italians,  and 
ivarrese,  whatsoever,  be  removed  out  of  the  palace  from  the  king  and 
een,  except  ihe  queen's  two  daughters,  .Uaria  St  Parensy,  Nicholas 
derwychc,  and  John  Purian,  and  their  wives.'  This  was  complied 
ih  by  Henry,  and  put  into  execution  that  very  day ',  and  we  do  not 
d  that  the  queen  Joanna  offered  any  resistance  lo  the  wishes  of  die 
if-Tia  and  couusellora  of  her  royal  husbaod;  but  the  lords  agreed  lo 
'.1;^  her  with  a  Breton  cook,  two  knighu,  a  damsel,  two  chnniher- 
''.  one  mistress,  two  esquires,  one  nurse,  and  one  chnmbermnid  for 
Liin^n's  daughters,  and  a  messenger  to  wait  on  them  at  rerinin  times. 
adilition  lo  these  persoiis,  Joanna  retained  eleven  Breton  lavenderen 
washerwomen,  and  a  varlct-lavenderer.  or  washerwoman's  aasislant.* 
Much  wiser  would  it  have  been  of  Joanna,  if  she  had  taken  exani]>le 
the  politic  condescension  of  the  king  10  the  wishes  of  their  subjects, 
J  yielded  an  unconditional  assent  to  the  dismission  of  her  foreign 
endania,  since   Ihe  retention   of  her    Breton   cook,  chambermaida, 

Thp  (iiibHAEce  of  Henry'i  pntriolie  dwlarsuon  is  ebBirmoieJ  from  ilie  Bull*  of 
rlUuiicni.  :nb  nf  Henry  IV.  i>ee  bIh  Qiitbrie  t  Iblio  UiiL  of  Eoglaoa,  Vul.  ii. 
\  Pari.  HW..  vol.  ii. 

Patliammtuy  Roli*,  ath  of  Honry  IV.,  p.  6^2 ;  PailiBniaitur  Hift. 

IteliameDiujt  Rolls,  4ib  of  Henry  IV.,  p.  973. 


I 


i 


irasheiwomen,  &c.,  offereJ  a  pretence  for  a  second  inietlmnw  from 
parliameni.' 

In  ihts  year  tiie  commons  presentetl  a  petition  (o  ihe  king,  praying, 
■mong  other  ihiiigs,  "  that  ihe  queen  would  be  pleased  lo  pay  for  bn 
journeys  to  the  king's  houses,  as  queen  Philippe  had  been  used  lo  d»^ 
Joanna  had  no  settled  revenue  as  queen  of  England  at  iho  timevtiM 
■his  implied  remonstrance  was  made  by  the  commons  to  kin;  Hmrv, 
who  was  himself  in  the  most  urgent  want  of  money,  hamsacd  with  p» 
petual  rebellions,  especially  in  Wales,  and  without  means  to  par  )ui 
mutinous  and  discontented  troops  iheir  wages.  "■  Every  souiti  oi 
revenue."  says  sir  Harris  Nicolas,  in  his  luminous  preface  lo  the  "Arii 
of  the  Privy  Council,"  "  had  been  anticipated,  and  it  is  scarcely  poniUt 
to  imagine  a  government  in  greater  distress  for  money  than  that  of  Utiuy 
IV.  at  that  moment."  If  Joanna  had  not  been  in  the  receipt  of  a  spleixU 
dower  as  duchess-dowagpr  of  Bretagne,  she  would  hare  f.iund  herself 
involved  in  the  most  embarrassing  straits,  as  the  consort  of  so  im- 
povertshed  a  king  as  Henry. 

But  pecuniary  cares  and  popular  discontents  were  not  the  onir 
troubles,  that  disturbed  the  wedded  life  of  Jobdub  of  Navarre,  whe. 
though  no  longer  young,  was  still  sufficiently  charming  lo  become  tb* 
iheme  of  the  following  amatory  stanzas  from  no  meaner  a  pen  than  ihii 
of  a  royal  Planlagenet  poet,  Edward,  duke  of  York,  cousin-gcrmu  <a 
king  Henry : — 

Ir  ye  but  wist  111;  Ufe,  and  knew 
or  all  the  paini  that  I  y-fcel, 
1  wii  yo  would  upon  me  nip, 
Alifaough  yoor  heart  wen  mailaef  mnI 

And  though  ye  be  of  high  reaown, 
Lei  metcy  rule  yonr  heart  »o  &«J 
From  you,  lady,  lliis  is  ntj  boon. 
To  gnni  iD«  gnoe  in  Mine  iI^km 

To  inercy  if  ye  will  me  mke, 
ir  SBdi  your  will  be  Ibi  to  do, 
Then  would  I  truly  foe  my  lak* 
My  heart  wiQ  mall  as  snow  in  »!□.        Cliange  my  ohuec,  Kod  ilafce  mj  aW* 

The  arrest  of  the  duke  of  York,  who,  after  a  series  of  lojral  m1 
valitml  services  to  king  Henry,  was,  on  a  very  frivolous  pretence,  to^ 
mitted  to  B  rigorous  imprisonmeni  in  Pevenaey  castle,  is  possibly  00  Iw 
attributable  to  the  personal  jealousy  of  the  king,  than  the  ouinfWH 
conduct  of  Joanna's  Jirst  hustiand,  the  duke  of  fitotagne,  towards  his  ali 
friend  Clisson,  was  lo  the  same  balelul  pession. 

The  virtuous  and  matronly  deportment  of  Joanna,  bowevei,  bollk  ■) 
duchess  of  Bretagne  and  queen  of  England,  were  such  as  to  prercot  6* 
slightest  shade  of  suspicion  from  resting  on  her  conduct.     Wbatt** 

'  Pnrliamentsry  Htiiory,  voL  u. 

■  Walpole  dmlares  there  is  no  doubt,  that  the  retsra  ate  by  tfaa  dokaof  Tak; 
d  aa  they  are  addraued  10  the  queaa  oT  England,  ttaera  wh  10  gdiar  at  A« 
le  but  Joanna  ot  ttavam. 


•■  Excellent  sovereigu,  seemly  In  lee,* 
Proved  ptudenoe,  peerleu  of  prioe; 
Blight  bloiKim  of  iKnigniiy, 
Offlgure  fBireet,and  fredleit  of  days. 

I  reeomnHod  me  la  your  royalnesi 
As  lowly  as  1  can  or  may ; 
Beseectiing  inwardly  your  gentleness, 
Let  never  faial  heart  love  betray. 


JOAHMA    OF    NAVARRE. 

nichi  have  been  the  oQeiice  of  the  Juke  of  York,  Ifi^nry's  displeiiflura 
waa  but  IcfiiiMrory,  for,  in  the  cuuree  of  three  inoiiliis,  he  nua  rekoseii, 
Mil  ri'sinreJ  lo  his  old  employments.' 

The  yenr  1406  commeDceil  wiili  freali  remonstrances  from  parliimenl, 
on  the  subject  of  Joanna's  foreign  alleuUBnts.  The  coiiiriiona  huviag 
uov  asaumed  a  decided  voice  in  the  legi'tlation  of  Kn^Uiiil,  J<^ii  Tip* 
totu  the  speaker,  in  his  ceiebraied  addrexa  fur  liberty  of  speaking,  luvk 
on  the  disorderly  stale  of  the  royal  household^ 
;  time,  ■>  ihaL  the  order  of  tliat  houae  for  removing 
>  from  the  queen's  court  hnU  been  very  ill  observed."  Ii  was,  oa 
solved  by  iiiianimouH  consent,  "That  certain  strangers  there 
who  did  seem  lo  be  olfieen  about  llie  queen,  shoalU  by  a 
a  day  depart  the  realm."  Whereupon  a  writ  lo  proclaim  ihti  sama 
■  direcied  to  the  sherifls  of  London,  ilie  aliens  being  charged,  witlialt 
ptving  in  all  patents  of  lands  and  annuities  granted  them  by  the  king 
or  queen.* 

The  parliniDenl  also  look  tlie  liberty  of  recommeniling  the  sorereign 
■o  observe  tlie  siricieiit  economy  in  his  household.  Henry  received  this 
advice  very  graciously,  and  promised  to  retrench  all  superlluous  expeuses, 
and  reatncled  the  expeuililure  of  his  establishmenl  to  10,UU0/.  a  year. 
He  likewiee  declared  his  wish  for  the  reformation  of  all  abuties,  and 
r«t)u<«ied  the  parliament  lo  lake  order  for  tlie  payrooiil  of  the  debts  of 
bia  household,  and  to  |(rani  a  tuitable  income  lo  his  queen,  fur  the  maii^ 
unAiice  of  her  stale.*  The  request  for  the  dower  of  queen  Joanna  vraa 
prcKiiled  by  John  Tiptol\  the  speaker,  and  others  of  the  comiuona ; 
ami  by  vote  of  iliis  parliament  she  was  endowed  with  all  the  revenua 
enjoyed  by  Anne  of  BoJiemiu,  ilie  lirst  queen  of  Itieliard  II.,  to  the  vnlua 
of  ten  tiioUHand  marks  per  annum;  so  that  with  wards,  marrioget,  and 
other  comingencies,  her  income  was  equal  lo  that  of  any  previous  queen 
«f  England.* 

King  Henry  granted  a  eafe-conducl,  January  4th,  1400,  to  John  de 
Boyn*,  '■  t)ie  secretary  of  his  dear  and  royal  conaort  Joluine,  to  eti^le 
ber  to  negotiate  certain  mailers  in  Breiague  with  regard  to  her  tlower 
tliere ;  also,  for  hmi  to  bring  horses  and  other  things  for  her  use,  pr». 
rid«)d  noiliiiig  be  attempted  to  the  prejudice  of  llic  people  and  crown  of 
England."  Henry,  at  the  same  lime,  granted  letters  of  protection  to  ihn 
tnuters  of  two  ships  from  Urelagne,  bringing  lamps  and  other  articles  for 
_tbe  use  of  Uie  queen.' 

tThis  year,  Henry's  youngest  daughter,  the  princess  Phdippa,  wu 
"  (I  to  Eric,  king  of  Sweden  and  Denmark.    Aboui  the  same  period, 
I  was  compelled  lo  resign  her  two  youngest  daughters,  BUnche 

>  ituke  of  Vork'i  oiianaibJe  crime  wan  a  tupiHMod  pai1ici|nli 
'  a  of  du>  heiu  or  MarUnieri  bin  tlinl  bo  liaU  never  laileJ  lU  bit  layslqr 

m  of  Ladtuihi  wan  provni  by  llgnrjr  iiiinue  of  Walei  lalling 
n  paitianieiit.  mad  (iHlailnK  dial  lii>  lite,  and  ■<!  Iii>  amiy  in  Wale 
.  iv«l  hj  die  fMliwiuf  at..!  wixbitn  of  Vork.     (Tyler  >  Hcuij  \  ) 
PhrlutniRnUrj  Holla,  Sili  and  iltli  of  Haiity  IV. 
PParliam^niBiy  Rullt,  Sib  uid  Oih  of  Hrnry  IV, 
^raibafnaulBi/  Bolla,  6ili  of  Henry  IV.  •  R/inct't  ForJ 


1 

I 

I 


of  the  king's  ship?,  and  c< 
chainl)erhiin,  with  all  the 
The  kintr  himself  had  a  ve 
those  bold  adventurers.^ 

Notwithstanding  her  unj 
nite  pains  to  promote  a  go 
the  duke  her  son.     Henrv 

1407,  addresses  him  as  ^^  h 
wish,  on  account  of  the  cl 
dearest  consort,  that  peace 
efilision  of  Christian  blood, 
mother,  the  queen  of  Engla 
all  good  friendship  should 
father,  Henry  king  of  Engla 
on  one  part,  and  ourselves  • 
cable  treaty/^ 

Accordingly,  a  truce  betv 
mediation  of  Joanna,  procla 
town  of  Hereford  was  adde 
same  year;  and  she  was,  ^ 
John,  and  Humphrey,  reconi 
pecuniary  grants.* 

An  interesting  proof  of  , 
lord,  the  husband  of  her  y< 
found  in  one  of  the  royal 

1408,  in  which  king  Henry 
an  alabaster  tomb  has  beei 


JOAMHA     OF     NjLVARRE.  0f  I 

tbrmerly  lier  ItusbsDd,  lo  be  conveyed  in  die  barge  o(  Sl,  Nicliolaa  of 
Nantes  lo  Biciagrie,  with  three  of  our  English  he^eo,  the  Bsn)e  wh* 
made  liic  tomb^viz  :  Thomas  Colyn.  ThonittB  Holi'well,  and  Thnniaa 
Poppehnm,  to  place  the  said  tomb  in  the  church  ofNantM,  John  Guy»> 
banJc,  Uie  muter  of  the  Boid  barge,  and  ten  mnrinerB  of  Brettt^ne ;  and 
ihe  sail!  bnrue  is  lo  be  considered  by  the  English  mBrchanta  under  onr 

There  i»  a  (ine  engraving  of  this  early  specimen  of  English  sculpture 
in  Ilie  second  volume  of  Dom  Morice's  ChrunicleB  of  Breiagiie.  It  bears 
the  recumbent  lijjure  of  the  warlike  John  de  Montfort,  duke  of  Bretagne, 
armed  csp-A-pie,  accordiug  to  the  fashion  of  the  limes. 

tlcnry  IV.  (panted  to  Joanna  six  lead  mines  in  England,  with  work* 
men  and  deputies  lo  load  her  ship ;  and  this  he  notified  to  her  eon  the 
duke  of  Bretagiie,  in  14I1U,  as  these  mines  had  been  accustomed  to  ex- 
port ore  lo  Bretagne,  und  he  wished  the  duke  lo  remit  the  ioiposi  for  the 
tiioe  lo  come.  The  king  and  queen  kept  their  Christmas  court  thu 
year  at  Elihara,  which  seeins  to  huve  beeu  a.  favourite  abode  with  ihe 
royal  juur,' 

in  the  eumuier  of  1413,  Joanna  received  a  visit  from  her  third  sou, 
count  Jules  of  Breiagne.  Henry  granted  a  safe-conducl  for  him  and  hu 
ntinuo,  ronsisliiig  of  iwenty  persons,  with  horses  and  arms;  bul  tliwf 
WM  A  provision,  "  that  no  baiiishetl  person  be  brought  into  England  io 
the  prince's  irain,  to  (he  injury  and  peril  of  the  realm."*  The  young 
)>rince  only  came  to  England  lo  die.     He  was  lord  ofChantoce. 

At  Uie  close  of  the  parliameiil  ihe  same  year,  the  speaker  of  the  cooih 
inons  once  more  recommeuded  to  the  king,  ''  the  persons  of  the  queen 
and  the  princes  his  sons,  praying  the  advancement  of  their  estales."  The 
pclilion  was  quite  unreasonable  as  regarded  queen  Jounnai  who  enjoyed 
>o  large  tiii  income  as  queen  of  England,  besides  her  ric-h  dower  from  the 
>Ut^  of  Bretagne ;  bul  she  never  omitted  an  opportunity  of  adding  lo  bet 
weallli,  which  must  have  been  very  considerable. 

At'orice  was  certainly  the  beaelling  sin  of  Joanna  of  Navarre ;  and  ihil 
•ordiil  propensity  probably  originated  from  the  pressure  of  pecuniaiy 
<are«  with  which  she  had  had  to  contend  as  princess  of  Navarre. aaduche  ~ 
•  >r  Bretagne,  and  during  the  first  years  of  her  marriage  wilh  king  Henry. 
;  i."r  conduct  as  a  step-mother  appears  to  have  been  conciliating.  Evan 
k  hen  the  wild  and  prolligalc  conduct  of  the  heir  of  England  had 
■  Atranecd  him  from  his  fiitlier's  councils  and  aSections,  such  confidential 
f«rluig«  siibsisled  between  young  Henry  and  Joanna,  that  he  employed 
ber  iiitluenee  for  llie  purpose  of  obtaining  the  king's  consent  to  the 
nwrriflse  of  the  young  earl  of  March,  at  that  lime  ward  to  the  prhice. 
To  the  disgrace  of  Ihe  queen,  however,  it  is  recordwl,  by  the  indubitabi* 
evidence  of  the  Issue  RolU.  that  she  received,  as  the  price  of  her  good 
ofTiee*  on  this  occasion,  a  promissory  bribe  from  the  piince,  as  the  f<^ 
lowing  entries  testify . — 

■^Td  Joanna  queen  of  England.     In  money  paid  to  her  by  the  handa 

■Rymoi'i  FoHleni.  'Stow.  'Brmsi. 


I 

I 
I 


a^rrCd  Upon  Miwewt  our  nki  lom  mt  uii 
thu  mid  queen,  fnr  thr  iturriage  of  Uw  ear 
"By  wril,  100/."' 

Wlif!)  we  consider.  Ilial  in  point  of  Ifl 
March  was  the  rij^htTul  sovereign  of  Eitgia 
a  riieiiiiire  woa  over  ulvoeslcd  by  the  I^n 
permitlrtl  hy  tn  nrofoimil  n  poliui^ino  m  )ii 
awam  of  tlir^  pRriloui  consequences  to  his  ( 
thm  the  iiufrii  must  have  piissosed  an  anl! 
miti<l  of  Ifenry  IV.  lo  he  able  lo  carry  that 

Henry  IV.,  ai  thai  lim*  einkinf  under  i 
was  probably  indebted  lo  thi^  cherishing  ea 
comfort  he  was  ca|«hlc  of  enjoying  in 
Iramrd  so  well  hnw  in  adnpt  hemelf,  whilf 
wai<l  humoura  of  her  titst  husband  (the 
Europe),  was  doubtless  an  adept  in  the  art 
iiig.  without  appearing  to  da  so. 

ICenry,  though  only  in  hia  fortr-aerenl 
bodily  and  mental  suflerings.  Hia  feature* 
and  of  which  he,  in  some  of  his  penilenliar] 
himself  lo  hove  been  so  proud,*  became,  in 
marred  and  disfigured  hy  thai  loathsome  dii 
vent  him  from  apwaring  in  public*  On  I 
n<^ss,  lie  kept  h»  last  Chrimmus  at  Efiham  « 
»i'>n.  His  coniptainl  was  accom[mnied  by 
trances,  in  which  he  Bomeiimea  lay  for  h 
si^ns  of  life.  He,  however,  rallied  a  littl 
holydays,  and  was  enabled  afler  C^ndtenns 

'  This  KlcbnlM  Aldstwjuh  wms  ona  oT  ■qnaai 


JOAII5AOFNAVABRB.  GQ 

9  his  palace  at  Westminster.  lie  waa  at  his  devoiionx,  berora 
Btnp  of  St.  Eilwunli  in  the  abbeviwhen  his  laat  fatal  atroke  ofapc^ 
■eizei)  him,  and  it  waa  BUpposBcl  by  every  one  ibat  tie  was  dead  ; 
tug  removed  to  the  abbot's  state  apartmenta  i:i  the  abbey,  wliirh 
B  nearer  than  bis  own,  and  laid  on  a  pallet  before  ihe  Are,  he  revived, 
aakeil.  *•  where  he  waa."  He  was  told,  "  In  the  Jeruaalcm  Cliam- 
"  Henry  received  this  answer  as  his  knell;  for  il  had  been  pre- 
ed  of  him  thai  he  should  die  in  Jertisaleni,  whicb  he  siippnsed  to 
he  holy  city,  and  had  solemnly  received  the  crosa,  in  token  that  it 
hifl  iaieiition  to  undertake  a  crusade  for  the  expiation  of  his  sins. 
•  bloo<l  he  had  shed  in  supporting  hia  title  lo  the  throne  pressed  very 
fily  on  his  coiiacienee  during  the  latter  years  of  his  reign,  and  in  the 
r  of  hlH  dcj«rture  he  particularly  requested  that  the  mistrere  should 
end  to  bim,  which  contained  a  penitential  acknowledgment  of  sin, 
«  Bupplicaton  to  be  delivered  from  "blood-gudiiness."  He  then 
al  for  liis  eldest  son,  Henry  prince  of  Wales,  to  whom  he  addressed 
e  ftdmimblc  cxhortationa  aa  to  his  future  life  and  governinent.  Sliak- 
.T«  has  repeated  almost  verbatim  the  dcath-beil  eloquence  of  the 
ring  king,  in  llial  touching  speech,  commencing,  '■  Came  hither, 
ry,  ait  ihou  on  my  bed,"  &.C.' 

ing  Hfnry  was,  doubiless,  arrayed  in  his  re^I  robes  and  diadem 
e  publicly  performing  his  devotions  at  the  shrine  of  llie  royal  sainl, 
popular  predecessor;  which  accounts  for  the  crown  having  been 
ed  on  bis  pillow,  whence  it  was  removed  by  his  son  Henry,  prince 
Vales,  during  the  long  death-like  swoon  which  deceived  all  present 
the  belief  that  the  vital  spaik  waa  extinct. 

f  ihe  many  historians  who  have  recorded  the  interesting  death-scene 
lenry  IV.,  not  one  has  mentioned  his  consort,  queen  Joanna,  aa 
g  pment  on  that  ocrasion. 

ing  Henry's  will,  which  was  made  three  years  before  bis  death, 
I  leattmony  to  the  deep  remorse  and  self-condemnation  which 
mpanied  him  to  the  grave.  This  curious  document,  a  copy  of 
;h  was  discoveied  by  sit  Simon  d'Ewes,'  al^er  diligent  seareh,  is  aa 

1,  Henry,  sinful  wretch,  by  tlie  grace  of  God  king  of  England  and 
'nuire.  and  lord  of  Ireland,  being  in  mine  whole  miud.  make  my 
uncm  In  manner  anil  form  that  ensuetli.  First,  I  bequeath  to  At* 
itj-  CihI  my  sinful  anni,  the  which  had  never  been  wordiy  lo  be 
p  man,  but  through  bjs  mercy  and  his  grace,  which  life  I  have  mis- 
led, whereof  1  put  me  wholly  at  his  grace  and  mercy  willi  nil  mine 
I.  And  at  what  time  it  likelh  bIm  of  bis  mercy  to  Lake  ine,  my 
r  lo  be  baried  in  tlie  church  of  Canierhnry,  after  the  discretion  of 
cousin  iho  arrhhlshop.  And  I  also  ibunk  my  lords  and  true  peopla 
he  true  aervlcn  ibcy  luive  done  to  me,  and  ]  ask  their  forgiveneaa 
lUva  misinirented  tl.em  in  anywise-,  and  as  far  as  ihey  have  oilended 
in  anywtM,  I  pray  Uod  to  forgive  them  it,  and  I  do.     And  I  will 


L 


r 


I 


I 


that  my  qneen  be  e»dowed  of  llie  duchy  of  Luncaster.'*     He  lam 
Henry  V.  hLs  sole  eiecuCor. 

"  The  words,"  says  Hardyng,  •*  which  the  king  said  bI  hi'i  detth  wtn 
o{  high  complaint,  but  Dooght  of  repeniance  or  restoration  of  the  rijiii 
lieire  of  the  crown." 

Henry  expired  on  St.  Cuthbert's  Jay,  Marcli  I9ih,  HIS.  He  m 
buried  by  the  side  of  Eklward  ihe  Black  Prince,  with  greai  pomp  md 
stale,  Henry  V.  and  all  his  nobility  being  present,  upon  Triniij  Saairi 
next  following  the  day  of  his  death. 

In  the  first  yeara  of  her  widowhood,  queen  Joanna  received  erwy 
mark  of  attention  and  respect  from  the  new  king,  Henry  V.,  who  ml 
anxious  to  avail  himself  of  her  good  offices  with  her  son,  llie  dolerf 
Brciagne,  in  order  to  secure  the  alliance  of  that  prince  in  hie  pityOd 
wars  with  France.  Henry  V.,  in  his  letters  and  treaties,  ^way»  fijptal 
the  duke  of  Bretagne  his  dearest  brother,  and  the  duke  reciprocaut  At 
title  when  addressing  him.'  Joanna  certainly  exerted  her  idiSucnee  wU 
her  son,  in  order  to  induce  him  to  enter  into  amicable  amngtnnn 
with  England.* 

According  to  some  historians,  Joanna  was  entrusted   by  her  roral 
■tep-son  with  a  share  in  the  government,  when  he  undertook  his  ex'pe- 
(lilion  against  France.     Speed,  Stow,  Hall,  and  Goodwin,  aud  eren  iluf 
most  industrious  antiquary,  White  Kennel,  alfinn  thai   sli':^   Ma-i  ku'L' 
queen-regent,  at  the  same  time  that  John,  dnke  of  Be<lt   :   .  .    - 
pobled  protector  and  lord-lieu  tenant  of  Ejigland  ;'  and  ll.  \  • 
to  strengthen  Trussel's  text,  who  uses  these  words  : — "  H  .  i 
his  mother-in-law,  Joan  de  Navar,  a  woman  of  great  [.. .._,.,.,  .. 
judgment  in  national  alHiirs,  to  be  regent  in  liis  absence,  with  Ute  «ili>w< 
of  the  privy  council."   But,  notwithstanding  these  imporloat  authnnlin. 
there  is  no  documentary  evidence  proving  that  euch  was  the  fart.    Six 
was,  however,  treated  with  higher  consideration  than  was  ever  ^on 
lo  B  queen-dowager  of  this  country,  who  waa  not  also  queen-molhrr, 
and  appears  to  lukve  enjoyed  the  favour  and  confidence  of  ihe  kioc  i> 
no  slight  degree. 

The  same  day  that  Henry  quilled  bis  metropolis,  June  II 
having  been  in  solemn  procession  to  St.  Paul's  with  the  lord-m 
corporation  of  the  city  of  London,  lo  oiler  his  pmyers  anil  obi 
the  success  of  his  expedilion,  he  relumed  to  Westminster,  for 
pose  of  bking  a  personal  leave  of  (]neen  Joanna.*  This 
commemorated  in  a  curious  poem  of  the  lime:' — 

'Rymori  Ftrdero. 

'li  ii  probable  thnl  it  WK3  on  Bocuuut  o(  Uie  cluke's  <"'  ~ 
quuiH  belween  bim  anil  hit  yoiuig  diwho**,  ttie  dmif:  ■ 
tnok  plBos,  whioh  endeil  in  bii  beating  hii  lii^h-bi'iri  . 
occasion  that  ilie  duke  of  OrlMms.  who  had  espoiucd  I 
of  Ricbaril  II.,  ihe  eld«M  lister  of  the  duchem,  tali)  'u  ' 
h»n  wai  not  biggei  than  tbnl  of  a  ohiM  oTa  ytat  i 


eHar 


rHarri 
i>  MSS.  505,  Ibl,  130. 


>■■>'  Aguiconr^  p.  H. 


■To  Fovija  liirn  he  belil  hit  way 
Willi  nil  bin  lortlys,  aoolh  lo  s>y; 
The  mayor  win  leady,  and  mel  him  there 
With  the  crnns  nf  London  in  ^/Mid  amf. 
•  Hail,  «i>inoty  king.'  the  mayor  'gau  tny, 
*Tbs  giBce  of  God  now  be  with  th*c, 
Asd  aliKd  llioa  well  io  liiy  journey, 
Anil  grant  llioe  ever,  more  ilcgrcel' 

To  Saint  Powlyi  then  h«  lirld  hii  way, 
And  offpred  tliore  fiill  worthily; 
From  liience  Bo  the  queen  the  selfsame  day. 
And  look  his  leave  full  toverontly.' 

riiis  fitrewHi  vUit  to  Joanna  was  the  Inst  thing  Henry  V.  did,  pmvj* 

10  lenvine  his  capilal.    Their  ptrTecl  amity,  at  that  tirne,  may  b« 

1  ^i!  from  Henry's  gracioiia  license  lo  the  royal  niilow,  whom  hn 

-  •'  his  ilcaresi  mother,  Joanna,  queen  of  Eiigtand,"  to  resiJe  with 

1  liiiue  in  any  of  his  royal  castles  of  Windsor,  Wallingford,  Berk- 

,  -  u-ad.  and  Hertford,  as  of  old,  during  his  absence  io  foreign  parts. 

-  ..rder  is  dated  Winchester,  June  30ih,  I4U.' 

iPTfl  arc  also  various  gifts  and  concessiona  granted  by  Henry  V.  to 

.  I  Joanna,  on  the  rolls  of  the  3d,  4th,  and  5ih  years  of  hia  rrign. 

'  hlcst  son,  die  duke  of  Bretagne,  either  from  rautinn,  or  becnuBe  he 

iitiable  to  take  a  decided  part  in  the  great  political  contest  between 

,Ti(l  mid  France,  maintained  a  strict  neutrality;   hut  Arthur,  her 

1,1  son,  boldly  espousing  the  cauae  of  France,  was  the  firat  who 

i.ci\  the  ouiguards  of  Henr\''H  camp,  near  Agincourt,  at  the  head  of 

I'luusand  French  cavalry.   This  fiery  assault,  his  firsi  essay  in  arms, 

'    iiisde  al  midnight,  on  the  eve  of  Si.  Crispin''a  dny,  in  the  midst  of 

i:[-^st  of  wind  and  rain,     Arthur  was  repulsed  by  the  troops  nf  hia 

.1  step-brother,  and  was  desperately  wounded,  and  made  prisoner  in 

.ittle,  the  following  day. 

The  chronicler,  from  whom  While  Kennet  has  collaled  the  reigns  of 

■  ihree  LATicastrian  sovereigns,  records  ihe  capture  of  Arthur.  111  lliese 

■  rdfl  r — "  The  son  of  the  late  duke  of  Brelagne,  by  the  quecii-regeni 
V'Ti-'land.  was  taken  prisoner.*'     The  same  author  again  mentions  Jo- 

I  .  if  Navarre  by  this  title,  when  he  aoys,  "  king  Henry  despatched 
--enger  over  10  England,  to  the  queen-regcni,'  with  ihc  news  of  his 
rv,  which  filled  the  nation  widi  universal  joy.  Te  Deum  was  sung 
all  the  churches,  and  a.  mighty  procession,  consisting  of  the  queen, 
»lHies  and  nobility,  with  the  mayor  and  corporation  of  Die  ciiy  ofLon- 
n.  walked  from  Sl  Paul's  lo  Wesiminster.  on  the  following  day,  lo 
tim  public  thanks  to  Almighty  God."  The  Chronicle  of  London* 
111  stales  '^  that  queen  Johane,  with  her  lords,  ailetided  by  the  mayor, 
temicn.  and  several  of  the  livery  companies  of  London,  walked  in 
leitm  procession  from  Su  Paul's  10  Westminster  Abbey,  lo  ofliir  thaoko* 
I  for  the  victory;"  and,  having  made  a  rich  olTering  at  the  shrint 


E 


'  Rymei  ■  Fmle™. 

'While  KenneK  Complete  Hiffory  of  En«laii<l,  pp.  31K,  .119. 

'  btuwl  by  all  Uaru*  Nicolu.     UaitiMii  *  aurv«f  of  Londoa. 


r 

I 


I 


79  JOANXA    OF     ITAVABBB. 

of  St  Eilward,  they  all  retained  in  triumph  to  ihe  city,  smiilci  die  nd^ 
tualions  of  the  people. 

Whosoever  iniglit  exult  in  the  nnlional  Iriumph  of  Asinrnort,  Joamn 
had  little  cause  fur  joy.  The  husband  of  hei  clUesI  ilnughi^r,'  tlic  pltaM 
tluke  of  Alen^on,  who  clove  king  Henry's  Jenellei]  coronal  with  hti  Utile- 
axe  in  the  mfUe,  was  there  slain.  Her  brother.  Charles  of  NaTim.  ihc 
constable  of  France,  died  of  liis  wounds  the  following  day  ;  and  Antuir. 
her  young  gallant  son,  was  a  captive.  No  iriHijig  lax  mil*!  ilie  wiiiowtd 
queen  have  paid  for  greatness,  when,  in<ilesd  of  putting  on  her  Diininiiag 
weeds,  and  induJj^ing  in  the  natural  grief  of  a  fond  motlier's  bnit,  (w 
these  family  cslumities,  she  was  called  upon  in  aasnnie  the  gliUffiaf 
trsppings  of  stale,  and  to  take  ihe  leading  part  in  a  public  pafntua 
rejoicing.  Till  this  latter  duly  was  performed,  as  beliitcd  the  (jucm  of 
England,  she  forbore  to  weep,  and  to  miike  bmenialion  for  the  dad; 
or  Id  bewail  the  captivity  of  him,  who  was  led  a  prisoiieT  in  the  tnm 
of  the  royal  victor. 

The  trials  of  Joanna  only  commenced  with  the  battle  of  Agincourt, 
foi  she  had  to  endure  much  maienial  anxiety  as  to  the  future  poatioa 
of  her  eldest  son,  the  reigning  duke  of  Brelagne,  with  whose  lemporiniif 
conduct  Henry  V.  was  gready  exasperated ;  and  she  had  lo  petfarni  & 
bard  task  of  welcoming,  with  deceitful  smiles  and  congraioUlioo*,  llit 
haughty  victor,  wjio  had  wrought  her  huuse  such  woe,  and  whn  m 
ihe  arbiter  of  her  son  Arthur's  fate.  Arthur  of  Breiagne,  w  eari  ofBkli- 
niond.  was  Henry's  subject,  and,  by  bearing  arm?  against  him  at  Agia- 
court,  had  violated  his  liegeman's  oath,  and  siooil  in  a  vert  dtllini* 
position  with  his  royal  step-hrother,  from  the  otiier  prisonefs.  WA 
was  it  for  him,  considering  the  vindictive  temper  of  Ilenry  V.,  ihit  *• 
queen  had  iu  fonner  times  laid  that  prince  under  oliligatioos.  by  a*n*- 
ing  him,  in  time  of  need,  with  p>ecuniBry  aid.  The  first  inleirie*  b^ 
Iween  Joanna  and  her  captive  son  is,  perhaps,  one  of  the  most  londnif 
passages  in  hisioty.  Tliey  had  not  seen  each  other  since  I UH,  vbn 
Arthur,  as  a  boy,  visiied  the  court  of  EngUnd,  to  rec«ire  the  iniDnicnt 
of  the  earldom  of  Hichmond  from  his  royal  etep^aiher,  Henry  \V. 
twelve  years  before.  Joanna,  anxious  to  ascerlaia  wheihei  tte  rroiaaJ 
any  remembrance  of  her  person  (which,  perhaps,  she  fell  was  iado!  W 
years  of  anxious  tendance  on  a  husband  sick  alike  in  body  and  niii^i, 
yet,  fondly  huping  that  malemal  instinct  wuuld  lead  him  to  his  mniWi 
arms,  placed  one  of  her  ladies  in  her  chair  of  sute,  and  retired  uamf 
her  attendants,  two  of  whom  stood  before  liur,  whde  she  watched  «tsl 
would  follow.  Arthur,  as  might  be  expected,  look  the  quern^  mo- 
sentative  for  his  mother ;  she  supported  ilie  character  for  sokh  n«* 
and  desired  him  to  pay  his  cojnphments  lo  her  ladies.  When,  in  UAi 
Joanna,  her  heart  betrayed  her,  and  she  exrbuni*A''fr 
happy  son,  do  you  not  know  me  ^"  The  call  of  nature  was  felii  boA 
mother  and  son  burst  into  tears.  They  tlien  enibraced  with  pMI  »• 
demess,  and  she  gave  him  a  tliousand  nobles,  which  the  priacdrywA 
distributed  among  his  fellow-prisoners,  and  his  guarda,  (ogMbs  «iik 


lOAttSA    OF    KAVARRB.  791 

lome  appKrel.     BuL,  after  ihis  inicrview,  Henry  V.  prevenieJ  alt  comniD- 
niraiidn  belWMn  the  mother  and  her  son.' 

Ariiiiir  wns  donmcil  in  waste  the  Dower  of  hin  youth  in  a  rigornus 
ccinftni-meiit.  6ni  In  the  Tower  «{  London,  and  afieru'ards  in  Fotiierin- 
g»y  Cnstle,  Henry  V.  being  loo  much  exanpemted  against  hi 
to  Jannnn'a  inlerceMiona,  either  for  hi«  release,  or  ransom.  Hem 
liowcver,  continued  to  treat  his  royal  step-mother  with  great 
At  tlie  rea.st  of  St  George,  1410,  queen  Joanna,  who  was  a  lady  of  th« 
Gari«r,  with  the  king's  aunis,  ilie  queens  of  Spain  and  Portugal,  his  sii- 
tera,  the  queen  of  Denmark  ami  dueliesa  of  Holland,  received  each  eight 
rlla  nfhlue-colnured  cloth,  with  two  furs  made  of  three  hundred  bellies 
if  minivrr,  and  one  hundred  and  seventy  garter  stripes,  to  correspond^ 
:.i  make  them  robes,  furred  and  embroidered  with  the  military  order  of 
:^ie  Gnrier.  all  alike,  as  the  gifl  of  the  king.  Henry,  on  this  occasion, 
[■rrsenteil  rlnth  and  fur  to  a  chosen  number  of  the  great  ladies  of  the 
I  'iiirt.  as  well  as  to  the  princes  of  the  blood-royal,  and  to  the  knighl 
>r  the  Garter,  that  they  might  all  appear  in  llie  robea  of  their  order,  to 
;tiicc  [he  high  festival  of  that  year.' 

Heury  was  induced  lo  conclude  a  iruc«  wiih  the  duVe  ofBrciagne,  isii 
!'■  Iiini)u>lf  specilies,  "al  tlie  prayer  of  Joanna."'  whom  he  styles  "  lhaif>( 
<  \rHleni  and  most  dear  lady,  the  queen,  our  mother."  This  was  in  tlttf* 
>.arl417.  ^ 

King  Iknry  directed  his  collectors  of  the  port  of  London  to  allaw^J 
three  scaleil  cases  of  money,  sixty  pipes  of  wine,  seven  baskets  of  lamp^ 
two  bales  of  cloth  of  Joa»plin.'  and  one  barrel  of  anchovies,  coming  !••] 
hi"  drarest  mother,  Joanna,  queen  of  Rngland,  at  her  need,  in  the  abio^ 
oiled  ihe  St.  Nicholas  of  Nantes,  lo  pass,  in  July  1418,  witliout  ci£' 
Icctiiig  any  impost,  or  due.  The  same  day,  he  direcis  the  aulhoritiea 
n(  llie  |)orU  o(  Plymouth  and  Dartmouth  to  admit,  free  of  all  duly, 
JuImii  dp  Moine,  from  the  puns  of  Brclagne,  with  eight  great  barrels 
of  win*  of  Tyre  and  Matmsry.  for  his  dearest  mother,  Joanna,  queen 
England,  flora  her  son,  the  dulie  of  Bretngne. 

Titc  year  following,  Joanna  was  nrresieil  at  her  dower  palace  of  Hi 
wring  Bower,  by  the  order  of  the  duke  of  Bedford,  the  regent  of  En| 
land.  These  an  Walsingham,  a  contemporary  historian's  words:'  — 
■•The  king's  step-moilier,  queen  Johanne,  being  accuiied  by  certain  per- 
sons of  an  act  of  witchcraft,  which  would  have  tended  lo  the  king's 
hum,  was  committed  (all  her  atiendanis  being  removed)  to  llie  custody 
nf  air  John  Pelham,  who,  having  furnished  her  with  nine  servants,  placed 
her  in  Povonsey  Caslle,  there  lo  be  kept  under  his  control."*     Joanna's 

■  HiKinirv  d  Anut,  3cine  Ihic  ilfv  Btclngnc.  Ftom  tit  llairii  Nicolas'  Aki'ii^ouii, 
p.  1-18,  rr,l.  ii.  •  Kj-mcr'i  Fad.-ra.  •  Ibiii. 

•  Bj-inflf  <  Trr^rn.  Thj*  floih  w«i  a  fjwcio  of  tin*n  mannrnPlUro,  much 
ibr  natum  nf  HiiHand ;  i<  was  the  llii<-*l  b[  tliat  linMi  oatJM]  ReDun  ohitli, 
wbfeli  R[«iat[nB  WBi  Ikinoiu  in  ib«  mlddto  ngpt.  Rrnnoi  ulivpta  were  oRml 
by  will.  ■!  ruHlf  luiutict;  ilirjr  Ilpiie  in  sir  John  Falatafl"!  boufphold  iiiVf 

•Liii'wiH'  Holingihad,  Spowl.  «iow.     Pailiitmonurf  hUiorjr  of  Englnnd. 

•Ill*  Chronicle  of  London,  a  cimirmponif.  sIbo  pvM  ihii  accauni:—    . 
lUi  ■"■"«  jimt  Frere  KaadoK^  a  master  of  divinity,  tbai  Kime  tims  Vm 
L,        IIOL.  lU.  —  7 


t.rtJ 

I 


JOANNAOF    NAVARRB. 

principal  acciuer  was  her  confcMor,  Juhn  Randoll^  a  Mikimit  !■> 
thotJ£h  it  flceniB  Henry  had  hail  previous  mronnation  that  ttM  fMft- 
dowager,  Willi  tlie  aid  of  two  domealic  SDrreren,  Roger  CoUci  of  Sife^ 
hury.  and  Peiroiiai  BrocarL,was  dealing  with  the  poweis  of  duiaaafiv 
)uB  destruction.'  Jnhn  Ramlolf  was  arrnwd  al  the  Ule  oT  Gatmaafi«i 
Bent  over  to  the  king  in  Noraiandr.'  where  his  coiil'cssioiu  emu  laimt 
(Iriennined  Henry  to  proceedings  of  the  utmoei  riguurt  againx  hi«  npt 
tn<>iher-in-lnw,  who  was,  aa  we  ha«e  said,  fonliwith  arrtrsied.  wilk  Al 
suspected  members  of  tier  household,  and  committed  as  a  close  pnasatf, 
tirst  to  ilie  casile  of  Leeds,  one  of  her  owa  palaces,  and  afterwanh  M 
tliai  uf  Perensey.  She  was,  by  Henry's  order,  deprived  not  oalytiba 
rich  dovror  lands  and  teuementa,  but  of  all  her  money,  funiiiare.  tid 
porsonal  properly,  even  to  her  wearing  appnreL  IJer  Benaata  wcn^ 
missed,  aiid  others  placed  ahout  lier  by  the  autlioriiy  of  her  giK>U>,Mt 
John  felham.*  These  circumBtancea  are  all  ael  forth  in  the  (oiiemin 
extract  from  the  Parliamentary  Rolls  for  7tli  Ueiiry  V. ; — 

W  remembftpd  Ant,  upon  iiilbrnialion  givni  to  the  Woj,  Oar  miwlip 
s  well  b/ the  relBliun  snil  coiireaiion  Of  one  A-iar  John  BamlolC  «f  A( 
onlpr  of  Prian  Minoas,  ai  bf  other  cin>i<i)>le  eviilvnc^  that  JidiaiuM,  i|ii«ia  rf 
En^^nnd,  had  compkssed  anil  iinagineil  the  deatb  and  dcstructioD  cf  ammi 
it  higli  and  horrible  mantier  lh»l  oould  be  ilsTHat;  As 
whiuli  conipBfsinE,  imaginaiioii,  and  dettmDticm,  hove  heun  i>pmlf  \ia\i\ittt 
'  loughom  all  Enslaod.  So  ii  ii  liy  llie  council  of  tlia  lord  ibc  king  MtnMt 
BUMiled  and  ordaineil.  iliai,  amongn  other  things,  all  ihe  gooili  aiul  i  hMWll  nf 
tb*  (aid  queen,  and  also  all  the  ^uodi  and  cliallels  of  Ri^er  Collea  at  "atiifcai 
and  of  Pvuonel  Bnwnrt,  lamty  roiiding  widi  lh«  wd  •^ueeli,  wbo  ■>*  iiiwuhbSJ 
smpected  of  the  *aiil  ireaenn,  in  wlime  hand*  (oerer  tbey  n>«r  be.  wliirit  <!• 
■aid  queen  had  (or  tlie  said  ollivr  pi-cw)D«  betbrs  named)  on  ihe  2Tili  i^d 
September  loil  patl  and  tmec.  and  alto  ntl  ibo  isauea,  renu,  iae.  cf  all  naaba 
miinciT>i  &c.,  which  Ihe  tnid  (jueen  lielil  iu  dower  ami  otlietwLw,  sbOBld  to» 
ceived  and  kept  by  ttie  treasurer  of  England,  or  bii  deputy  fiir  tb«  tiraa  taa« 
CDstodf  of  the  said  goude  and  ohatt«l*,  &c„  aiul  ikal  lMH> 
pairni  Bbould  be  passed  under  tha  great  seal  ia  thai  bebaLT;  and  do*  tka  Mil 
rer  or  bis  deputy  slionlil  ptoviila  (br  the  support  ofiha  sul  i]u«— .  mA  tf 
lia  a»jgned  to  her,  hoa rally,  according  to  the  adnoo  of  Uio  coustiL  <T»4 
n  lliis  pnrliairtent.  And  because  it  wa>  doubted  whether  penous  koMJ  > 
(its,  Ac,  to  the  queen  could  be  aiirel/'lisehaiged.  it  i»  occUiM^  iBdnl|» 
fenlpnrliBinenI,  itilip  lequeitof  the  Commons  assembled,  all  sorh  penoM,)^ 


paymt 


lo  the  (zeosnre 


cied  Bgaiiui  tbe  said  <)oeaB  to  afi  ■■> 


In  the  iMiie  Boll  for  the  same  year*  is  the  followiiig  ealry : — 
"27ib  Korembct.    To  sir  John  Pclhain,  linighi,  appoinlBcl  bjr  the  tine  W 
ouncil  for  tlie  EnTernance  and  safe  cnfilwly  of  Jc«o  queeD  of  GogliUKL    !■  ^ 


qUeen''*  eonfeunr,  a 


, , le  exciting  of  the   aaid  queen,  by  torcerf  and 

Wrought  for  lo  atlroif  flio  king;  but,  is  God  wolde,  I:'*   "-' 


etpied,  wherefore  by 

I     Cliionide  — ■—■>■- 
bnurne 


...     , .        Jbifeiied  li.>r  b'.iti.''    tin 
•,at.tt<t  lua  tiri;iuii»i«ii.,-n  ti r,i icui pomry  willi  the  5i"gf  of  B'ns.    On» 

— ^  -.•^elf  says,  Joanna  committed  an  intklnoai  mak/Idnm,  an'l  *«•  '^ 

6om  her  lainti]'  and  giTen  to  the  chai^  of  lord  idlia  Pelliam  iu  (t»  oaitil  (f 
Pevensey.     He  notes  it  in  the  events  of  1410. 
'Holingshed.  Mbid.     Par 

*IUii.     Pai'iLsmenUTT  %eco^&i,  'Henn-  V. 


JdANNAOFKAVARRS.  75 

i-r  puid  lo  bim  bj  tlia  hnoili  or  tiiahnrcl  Je  Venr,  hi>r  Mqiiiri^,  in  iidr<in»,  fbt 
II  I'pan  nnil  fnTa  cu»uh\y  ot  llie  <|uri:ii  aTaieHiu!,  IGliC^L  J3i.  -Id.  Muter  Po- 
'     IJTball  wu  appoiiittHi  tlic  Baid  qiipcti's  pliysicinu.'" 

'^  liiW  Kt'iiiwt  UB«rtB  Ihal  Jonnna  was  brought  to  a  trial,  thai  tsbe  wu 

>  uted,  and  forfeited  her  goods  by  aenlence  of  parliament ;  bul  of  this 

'   in  not  ihp  alighieeit  proof,    On  Uie  contrary,  it  is  quite  certain,  that 

i;i-XTit  was  allowed  an  opportunity  of  juaiifying'heraeif  from  the  dark 

L.uions  iliBt  were  brought  a^inai  her.    She  was  coodemned  unheard, 

.  iiilnl  of  her  properly,  and  consigned  to  years  of  solitary  confine- 

:.  without  the  slightest  regard  lo  law,  or  justice.    Her  perliiliaus  con- 

.- 1  >r.  Kaudolf,  while  ttispuling  with  the  paraon  of  St  Peter's  nil  Vincula, 

«-as  for  ever  silenced,  by  the  combative  priest  atraiigling  him,  in  the 

dmIx  uf  his  debate.'     The  fiiry  with  which  the  argument  was  pursued, 

(ltd  it*  murderous  termination,  would  suggest  the  idea,  ihui  the  guilt  or 

iiiii>cence  of  their  royal  mistreaa  must  have  been  the  subject  of  diacus- 

■II      Be  this  as  it  may,  the  death  of  KanUolf,  under  these  circumstaDCes, 

■  gndeiuiled  ilie  "high  and  horrible  means"  whereby  the  royal 
■  ivi  was  accused  of  practising  aKoinst  the  liife  of  the  king.     He  waa 

only  wtinesf  against  her;  and,  by  his  death,  the  whole  a&ir  remaina 
utinag  the  most  inscrulable  of  historical  mysteries. 

There  ia.  however,  among  the  unpublished  papers  of  Rymer,  a  docn- 

neni  which  aeeoia  to  throw  aome  light  on  the  af&ir,  by  evidencing  the 

•~»i*>u»  ailempts  of  Henry  V.  to  extort  from  Joanna  the  pritrcipal  part 

n-r  di>wer  in  loans ;  for,  we  lind  some  liroe  before  her  arrest  and  dia- 

,  I  .  thai  in  the  beginning  of  Uie  year,  he  enjoins  "  hia  dear  chevalier 

ii'im  Kynwolmerah,  to  send  all  the  sums  of  money  he  can  possility 

.  w'  of  the  dower  of  Johane,  the  queen,  late  wife  of  our  sovereign 

.  :inJ  lire,  the  late  king,  whom  God  assoil.     I.et  tliese  sums  be  sent 

.1  lime  lo  time  without  fail,  leaving  hrr  only  mpnry  tnougk  for  ker 

'•'•nabit  riprnKa,  and  In  pay  any  annuiiiea  she  may  lia*e  grante<)." 

hi  :ill  prohabihly,  Joanna's  resiaiance  of  this  oppression  was  answered 

■  r  arrest,  on  the  frivolous  accusniion  which  alTorded  the  king  a  pre- 
.1   for  replenishing  his  exhausterl  coffers,  at  her  expense. 
'<'anna  did  not  enjoy  the  solace  of  her  young  and  gallant  son  Arthur's 

^iiiiipany,  in  her  capiivity.    Their  doleful  years  of  durance  were  wasted 
la  aeparali)  prison-housra. 

The  relum  of  the  royal  victor  of  Agincourt,  wiih  hia  beautiful  and 
iluatriona  bride,  brought  no  amelioratioD  to  the  coniliiion  of  the  unfor- 
tunaie  qncen-ilo wager  and  her  son.  Kaiherine  of  Valois  was  nearly 
rclal«(l  in  blood  to  Joanna  of  Navarre,  being  the  daughter  of  her  cousin- 
icrmain,  Cliarlcs  VI.  Kaiherine  was  also  sister  to  the  youne  dnehesa 
[>r  Breiagiie,  Joanna's  daugliler-in-law  ;  yet  she  received  neither  aympa- 
Ihjr  Dur  attention  from  her,  but  had  the  moiiitlcation  of  knowing  that 
bv  dower,  or,  at  least,  ihe  larger  part  of  il,  waa  appropriaied  u>  maiiK 
lain  Kaiherine's  state,  as  ijueeii  of  England. 

:  ■  vHii't  Ettiaen  fnm  fell  Rnsordi.  p.  36i. 

:  li-y't  Hitioiy  ol  tlie  Tawef.     Ppocd.     HolingilieJ. 
'  uoif  Jmwi  i*  ih«  eipmsion  used  by  the  king.    Unfubliahod  MSS.  of  Ryawt 

(■../.     HuLcaiil.  r. 


I 

I 

I 

J 


I 


JOAXSA    OF    NAVARRB.  ^^H 

Bmry  V.  lAewiM  prsMnled  the  abbM*  of  Syoa  with  a  thoumml  marks, 
from  iht  re»enuM  of  the  impriBoned  quwn.' 

W«  find,  ii)  ihc  acM  of  ihe  Pri*y  Counfil,  thm  Hptiry  fptnni*d  t 
favourable  answer  to  ihe  petition  t>f  William  Pomeroy.  one  of  J*«niia'« 
Mifutrca,  who  liumhly  snpplicntcs  for  a  continuance  of  a  petisioQ  nf 
twenty  ninrlk!!  a^ytuir,  which  liad  furmirrly  been  gninie<!  by  the  ijnwn 
Joliaiicie,  ill  reward  <>f  hia  long  and  faitliful  iervires  to  Iter.  Ilimr)-, 
with  his  own  liBud,  has  writian,  "We  wol  that  he  haw  thn  twenty 
marc*.'" 

Ill  tJie  fourth  year  of  hn  captivity,  nn  important  prisoner  of  slate  ww 
GoRKi^ni^il  to  the  same  fortress  in  whirh  the  cjueen-ilo wager  wns  iiirar- 
ccratcil.  This  was  sir  John  Mortimer,  ihd  ancle  of  the  rairl  of  Mnrch.' 
Ilin  freqiieni  altempla  to  escape  from  the  Tower,  caused  him  to  be  rv- 
inoved  l<>  ihe  gloomy  fortress  of  Pevensey.  The  widow  of  Heiiry  IV. 
being  confined  within  the  same  dark  walls  with  this  fettered  liun  of  the 
rival  house  of  Mortimer,  is  a  cnriout  and  rotnaniic  circumstance.  Yet, 
when  Moriimrr  arrived  at  Pevensey,  the  perio<l  of  Joanna's  incarcention 
there  whs  drawing  to  a  close.  Her  royal  persecutor,  the  piiissnut  con- 
queror  of  Fmnce.  feeling  the  awful  mnmenl  was  al  band  when  ho  mtm 
Uy  his  sceptre  in  ihe  dual,  and  render  up  an  aecounl  of  ilie  iiiannet  in 
which  he  had  exercised  his  regal  powpr.  was  seized  with  late  remotM 
for  iJie  wn>ng  and  robbery  of  whicli  he  had  been  guilty  towards  hii 
biher's  widow;  and,  knowing  tlial  repentance  wiiliout  mtituiion  isef 
little  arail  in  a  cAse  of  conscience,  he  addressed  die  fuilowiog  Injuticlica 
to  the  bishops  and  lords  of  his  council,  dated  July  13,  14S9  : 

"Rl^t  wocdiiiirul  Aiihfir*  in  God,  out  lighi  (ru«ir  nml  well-lj*Ti>    '     i' 
ws  have  inken  inio  our  hand  lilt  a  renoin  lime,  and  fbt  lucb  cun- 
iha  doweri  oT  mir  minUei,  <|ueen  JolmnTie,  eieepl  »  crttniii   j' 
jraarlr.  which  we  oiaigiird  fbr  ili»  expciue  reatDmbln  of  hct.  [i< 
nwmf'  tbal  alioutd  be  atxnit  taei :  we,  doubling  lail  it  ibonld  bo  u  1 1     „ 
OODHieDCis  for  in  uooiipy  funb  Inosec  Ihe  taiJ  dowei  tn  this  wi-r,  tIi'  u.l;l<b 
ehargs  we  he  advi»d  no  lonser  lo  besr  on  oui  mnuifDCe,  Will  and  cUmr^  r^      i 
fli  fa  will  appeat  bi'bre  Gud  Toi  ui  in  Ibii  aiar,  and  Unnd  diwLai^iMl  in  jnt      ] 
own  Eonnience  also,  that  jrs  make  deliTetanoo  unio  our  taid  mother,  ili>.'  igniK^i. 
wholly  ofher  said  dewer,  and  lulfei  h«  to  r«Five  It  aaihe  did  Im- 
that  (he  make  bar  oAcBn  whom  ihe  liit  (in  ihry  bo  oar  lii-C' 
men),  and  tlial  Ihtrrclore  we  have  given  in  charge  and  Domin  n 
time,  lo  uiake  hoi  full  riulitntion  of  hei  dower  above  aaid.    Purilj<  ' 

and  char^  jrou  that  her  beds  and  all  other  iliing«  movenblot  Iho,.  ^..  _ 

ft  deliver  bor  again.  And  ordain  her  that  >he  bare  of  mob  cloiti  niii!  ui  <• 
colour  ai  she  will  deviie  heTErlfT-Ot  n.  Ei>wiu,  luch  ■■  ihe  unelli  low-vr.  t 
beeann  we  4iippoB«  she  will  soon  remove  from  die  place  where  (he  now  !>,  I 
ye  ordain  hei  lioraea  Ibr  eleven  thertt,*  and  let  her  reicx>vc  them  inki  wbaw^ 
plare  within  oiii  raalm  that  her  liil  and  when  her  lilt,  ibi. 

"  Wriuen  iho  ihtrleenth  day  of  July,  ihe  year  of  our  reign  lenlh.'* 

'Tyler^LifrofHenrr  V. 

■  Acts  of  i'riv/  counoil.     Edited  by  air  Hartia  Kicolo*.  rol.  ii  p,  301      'B 

•HouselioM  Brrvsiiw;  fioin  wlUah  woid  e«iuet  Ihe  term  ineniaL 


JOAK.IAOPNAVARRS.  77 

In  cuinuion  jusuce,  Henry  ought  lo  have  made  tliis  amende  perfect, 
by  mldiiig  a  ilecUration  of  lits  royal  siep-ni oilier'*  iiinoreiice,  frora  ihe 
foul  clmrgo  which  had  bpeii  the  ostensible  pretext  fur  iho  pei'^erulion  to 

Bliicli  she  had  been  subjected.  His  letter  cotiiain»  in  effpct.  howeTcr, 
not  thr'  worils,  a  coiupktc  exoneratinn  of  queen  Jonrnin ;  and  it  appenrs 
IKcniinuibir,  tliat  any  upulogisl  &hoiild  be  fourul  lu  Jusiify  the  con- 
wror  (if  A);incourt  for  acta  which  were  ao  sore  a  bunlen  i<i  bis  dqNirt- 
ing  spiriL,  and  which  he  hiniMlf  coufessM,  in  (his  'mejiiorHble  lelitrr  -  that 
he  hud  been  adfieed  no  longer  to  bear  on  hii  conacJeiicr,"  lest  lio  xhuiild 
rue  ii  Ikere&Aer. 

The  spoliation  of  the  queen-downgcr  hnil  extentted,  we  linil,  tvon  to 
ihe  irq  lie  strati  on  of  her  beds  and  rich  array.  She  hnd  cetiHinly  been 
compelled  to  divest  herself  of  her  queenly  atlire.  and  to  nssinne  thv 
course  gnrb  of  penance.  Whether  tlie  pcece-ollcring  of  live  or  six  new 
gowns,  with  the  royal  permission  for  llie  injured  lady  lo  citnsuli  her  own 
taste  in  die  colour,  material,  and  fashion  of  tlic  tame,  was  coii-^idcreil  bjr 
Joanna  as  a  sulHcieni  compensation  for  (he  wrong  and  robltery  and 
wcHfv  imprisonmeni  she  had  undergone,  is  doubtful.  But,  be  this  as  k 
nii^hi,  and  even  if  the  gowns  (which  tlie  warlike  majesty  of  England  M 
aolcmidy  enjoins  his  chancellor,  and  Uie  other  lords  spiritual  unil  tna^ 
jtnnl  ol"  hifl  cooucil,  lo  endow  her  with)  were  promptly  rendered,  il  is 
ceruiii  »he  coulJ  not  have  enjoyed  the  satisliietion  of  appearing  iJi  ihem  : 
courtly  eiiqueiie  compelling  her,  within  seven  weeks  aAer  the  dale  of 
lli^nry'i  letter  of  restiluiinn,  to  assume  the  mockery  of  mourning  weedi 
for  his  decease.  This  eveni  occurred  August  31,  142'!.  Bui,  it  appears, 
that  some  amelioration  had  previously  taken  place  in  regard  In  JiKiniui*s 
capliviiy  i  for,  by  a  contemporary  document,  it  is  evident  she  had  been 
rcmoTcd  m  Leeds  Castle,  the  same  summer,  aa  the  following  entries 
appear  in  her  household  book,'  dated  July  14th,  first  year  onienry  Vr 
It  ix  lo  he  observed,  thai  first  ihe  duke  of  Gloucester,  and  then  cardinal 
Bcvtifort.  visited  her,  just  before  the  formal  oflieial  notice  nf  Henry's 
penitence,  and  assuredly  brought  her  private  intelligence  of  the  changv 
m  her  favour ;  for,  on  June  the  12ih,  is  an  item  "-  iluii  the  duke  dined 
with  her  at  Leeds,  and  went  away  after  dinner ;  expanses  for  the  feasL 
4l.  if"  and,  on  the  Sd  of  the  next  month,  "cardinal  Beanfort  diiwa 
with  lier  at  a  cost  of  4/.  14«.  2d."  Hor  oblations  and  alms  "at  llw 
Crosa  of  tlie  chapel  within  Leeds  Castle  came  to  Cn.  B  J. ;"  but  sdw ' 
'  I  in  a  stock  of  Gascon  (clarel).  Rochelle  and  Rhenish  wines,  at  dia 
It  of  50/.  U*.  4ii.     Her  alms  seem  influenced  by  her  usual  avarioe, 

e  could  find  money  to  buy  so  ttiuch  wine,  she  mieht  h 

rated  her  ligtud  deliverance  from  captivity  and  ofaloqny  by  a  lai 

'^'outlay  than  a  mark.     All  her  recorded  donations  appenr  despical 

nnn ;  indeed,  this  precious  historical  document  singularly  confinna 

Mtimale  of  her  character,  that  grasping  avarice  was  the  chief  source 

■Thii  inninnnuun  i*  icatlirrcd  Brom  one  o(  the  rnlunbli-  dooumei 
IseUDD  ol'air  TluJinu  fliillippa.  of  Mi>)iJlahill,  WaTRe>ter*hir«.  TbI*  gHullni 
Willi  ■  lilienlirf  only  •qu■Ut^d  bj  bi*  mnniSoeTwe  in  porchasing  HSS.  (oontal 
iag  iba  uue  inuiUln"Dla  of  biuoT)')  tuu  ponnined  at  tiM  only  wnm  ta  bia  MAM 
bal  tJtiKlrd  tiia  ovm  ailvii^  aail  aatiilsnoa  iu  th«  tnniarivtvm  oC  ivWraasak^ 


I 


I 


1  oz.  oi  DiucK  uiread,  1 
to  Agnes  i^iowe,  of  th( 
good  stTvirt'sj  lo  the  (jl 
to  plead  lor  ilie  queen 
the  queen,  6*-.  Sd.  N( 
the  amount  of  a  mark, 
of  green  ginger,  95.  6d. 
cinnamon,  75.  lOd.  T 
and  7(2.  for  those  of  hei 

Notwithstanding  the 
Joanna'*s  dower,  the  ir 
count  of  the  manner  ii 
had,  in  fact,  sold,  mon 
sons,  besides  endowing 
\vith  the  town  and  app 
which  had  been  scttlec 
The  smoothing  of  such 
to  all  parties ;  and  we 
was  presented  from  the 
all  the  grants  made  by  t 
ment,  that  she  might  re< 

The  answer  to  the  p< 
all  points,  provided   tha 
the  queen's  lands,  shouli 
at  the  same  term,  or 
crown.'" 

Joanna  of  Navarre  a 


JOAMHAOFNAVARRE.  79 

ft«  Rylrnti  relrest  of  flavering  Bower.  She  aho  kepi  her  slate  innia>- 
times  Dt  Lan^\ey,  where  her  riflirement  was  enlivencJ  occasionnlly  b^ 
ihows,  na  ihp  rude  ihenlrirtil  entertain  menu  of  the  (lAeciilh  century 
were  ileijj^ai«(t.  We  leom,  from  a  conlemparary  rhmnicle,  ihnt  in  tJie 
ninth  year  of  Henry  VI.  a  grievous  and  lerrihltt  lire  took  plsri-,  at  the 
nanor  tif  the  lady  queen  Joauua,  at  Langley,  in  wliicli  lliere  was  great 
destruction  of  the  buildingB,  furniture,  gold  and  silver  plate,  and  liouee- 
bold  Bluff  These  diMaiers  happened  '•  through  the  want  of  care,  and 
drowaiiiese.  of  a  pinyer,  and  tlie  heedless  keeping  of  a  randle.^" 

This  tire  is  the  last  event  of  any  importance  that  befell  the  royal 
widow,  aAer  her  restoration  to  her  rights.  Joanna  was  treated  with  aU 
|»rop«r  coiisidoretion,  by  the  graiulson  of  her  deceased  consort,  the 
young  king  Henry  VI.  While  residing  at  her  palace  of  Langley,  1437, 
ahe  was  honoured  with  a  new-year's  gift,  from  this  amiable  prince,  aa  a 
lokea  of  his  respect.  This  was  a  tablet  of  gold,  garnished  with  four 
balaM  rubies,  eight  pearls,  and  in  the  midst  a  great  sapphire.  The  tablet 
had  been  Ibrmerlv  presented  to  ihe  young  kin^,  by  iny  lady  of  Glouees- 
■er ;  whether  by  Jacqueline  or  Eleanora  Cobhara,  is  \e(t  doubtful.' 

In  the  July  following,  Joanna  died  at  Havering  Bower.  This  event 
is  thns  Qoaintlv  noted  by  the  chronicle  of  London,  a  contemporary  re- 
cord :— * 

"This  same  year,  Bth  of  July,  died  queen  Jane,  king  Henry  IV.'t 
wife.  Also  Ihe  same  year  died  el!  the  lions  in  the  Tower,  the  which 
was  nought  seen  in  no  man's  lime  before  out  of  mind." 

Joanna  was  certainly  turned  of  seventy  at  the  time  of  her  death, 
which  occurred  iu  the  l^lleenih  year  of  Henry  VI.,  1437.  She  survived 
her  first  tiusbaiid,  John  duke  of  Bretagne.  nearly  thirLy-«iglit  years,  and 
her  second.  Henry  IV.  of  England,  twenty-four.'  She  had  nine  children 
Vy  ttie  duke  of  Rrciogne:*  Joanna,  who  died  in  mfancy;  John,  who 
ancceeded  his  ilithrr,  and  died  in  1443;  Marie,  duchess  of  Alen^on, 
who  died  in  1446;  Blnnehc^  countess  of  Armagnac,  and  Margaret,  vis- 
couutess  Bohan,  both  of  whom  died  in  the  flower  of  youth,  supposed 
U>  have  been  poisoned  ;  Arthur,  eorl  of  Richmond,  so  long  a  captive  ' 
England,  who  afterwards  became  illustrious  in  French  history,  as  thfl 
vaJiani  count  de  Kichemonte ;  Jules,  the  third  son  of  Joanna,  died  in 
England,  1112;  Hichnrd,  count  d'Estampes,  died  the  year  after  hW 
The  queen  had  no  children  by  Henry  IV. 
le  following  eummunses  were  issued  by  Henry  VI.  to  tlie  nobles, 
ukI  female,  to  do  honour  to  the  funeral  of  tliis  queen  : — 

PTruirr  and  wcll-l»lovpd  cousin,  know  M  miiph  as  wc,  by  name  of 
IB  oTGIoucvulec.  mill  otiiei  or  out  coiirwil,  Imvr  aiipoinwd  Ihe  ruiirn 
idmoiliei  queen  Jonnnn  (wliom  Ooil  auoilp)  to  bp  holdm  nni(  tulirn 
^larlwry,  the  iiitli  ilay  of  Aui^bi  nnit  nniins.  B«lieve  ibst  we  I 
■aWd  the  said  uncie,  sni)  other  lords  and  Indiea  of  our  realm,  Hnil  yo 
~  .  k  fir  'A<  itMH}.  to  be  nndy,  for  ibo  nmc  day  v  the  worthip  of  God  a 
■  Mill   pand mother ;  we  ilfite,  IfapTpfoie,  amt    pray  you    (putting  a~ 

art.  HSS.  3773,  ait.  9. 


4 

\ 
I 


wav  to  Caiiterburv  Caihet 
which  her  pious  care  hai 
consort,  licnry  IV.  A  su 
auspices  for  that  monarch 
in  solemn  state,  near  the 
like  her  portrait  in  the  pic 
very  lovely  woman ;  her  I 
anns ;  her  bust  beautiful, 
expression  o^  finesse  ;  the 
singularly  high,  and  at  th 
upw^ards ;  the  whole  gives 
wrought  in  alabaster,  enai 
her  beautiful  arms  are  na 
mantle,  fastened  to  the  bac 
passes  round  the  corsage 
shoulders.  Her  bosom  8 
throat  is  a  collar  of  SS,  ve 
this  ornament.  Studs,  set 
cotehardi,  which  is  a  tight 
round  her  hips  is  a  band  o 
in  full  folds  over  her  feet. 

Joanna^s  device,  an  erm 
her  motto,  "Temperance, 
Her  arms  may  be  seen  by  t 
iication,  "Regal  Heraldry,* 
the  windows  of  Christchui 

The  tomb  of  king  Henr 


JOANNA    OF    NAVARRB.  81 

posed  to  credit  the  statement  of  a  contemporary,  though  certainly  not 
unprejudiced  chronicler,  subjoined. 

The  testimony  of  Clement  Maydestone^  translated  from  a  Latin  MS, 
in  the  library  of  Bennet  College^  Cambridge^  1440  : — 

"Tliirty  days  after  the  death  of  Henry  IV.,  Septt^inbcr  14ih,  1412,*  ono  of  his 
dctmesiics  came  to  the  house  of  tlie  Holy  Trinity  at  Hound!>iow,  and  dined  there. 
And  ns  the  byjttanders  were  talking  at  dinner-time  of  the  kin^r's  irreproachable 
nicirals,  this  man  said  to  a  certain  es<iuire  name<l  Thomas  MaydeKtone,  tlien  sit- 
ting at  table,  *  Whether  ho  was  a  gnotl  man  or  not,  God  knows,  but  of  this  I  am 
c^Ttnia,  that  when  liis  corpse  "was  carried  from  Westminster  towards  Canterbury 
(l>y  water)  in  a  small  vessol,  in  order  to  be  buried  there,  I  and  two  more  threw 
his  corpse  into  tlie  sea  between  Birkingham  and  Gravesend.  For,*  he  added 
IV i til  an  oath,  *  we  were  overtaken  by  such  a  storm  of  winds  and  waves,  that 
many  of  the  nobility  who  followed  us  iu  eight  :iliips  were  dispersed,  so  as  with 
much  difficulty  to  escape  IxMng  lost  But  we  who  were  with  the  body,  despair- 
ing of  our  lives,  with  one  consent  threw  it  into  the  sea ;  and  a  great  calm  ensued. 
The  coffin  in  which  it  lay,  covered  with  a  cloth  of  t^old,  we  carried,  with  great 
■olemnity,  to  Canterbury,  and  buried  it ;  the  monks  of  Canterbury  therefore  say, 
that  the  tomb,  not  the  bixly  of  Henry  IV.,  is  with  us!  As  Peter  said  of  holy 
JUavid.'  As  God  Almighty  is  my  witness  and  judge,  1  >aw  this  roan,  and  heard 
him  speak  to  my  father,  T.  Maydestone,  that  all  the  almve  was  true. 

''Clkmbnt  Matdbstostx." 

Tills  wild  and  wondrous  tale,  enuinatin^  as  it  docs  from  a  source  so 
suspicious  as  Henry's  sworn  foes,  the  two  Maydestones,'  we  are  disposed 

*Both  dates  are  incorrect;  Henry  died  March  20,  1413. 

•The  narrative  of  Clement  Maydestone  was  considered  by  the  antiquarians  of 
tho  present  century  sufficiently  worthy  of  attention  to  cause  the  examination  of 
die  loinh  of  Henry  IV.  and  his  queen  Joanna,  which  took  pln«'e  Au^ist  21,  1832, 
in  tlie  presence  of  the  bi:>hop  of  Oxford,  lady  Harriet  and  sir  rharles  Bajiot,  John 
Alfred  Kemp,  esq.,  ice.  We  give  tlie  following  account  from  the  testimony  of 
an  eye-witness : — 

•*  When  the  rubbish  vms  cleared  away,  we  came  to  what  appeared  to  be  the 
lid  of  a  wooilen  case  of  very  rude  form  and  construction ;  upon  it,  and  entirely 
within  the  monument,  lay  a  leaden  coffin,  without  any  wooden  case,  of  a  nmch 
tmaller  sire  and  very  singular  slmi>e."  From  the  wotxlcut  given,  the  Inst  nl)ode 
of  Joanna  of  Navarre,  queen  of  England,  resembles  what  children  call  an  apple 
turmiver.     It  was  her  coffin  which  rested  on  that  of  her  lord. 

**  Not  l>eing  able  to  take  otf  the  lid  of  the  large  coffin,  as  a  great  portion  of  its 
length  was  under  the  tomb,  they  sawed  an  aperture  in  the  lid.  Immediately 
under  the  coffin-boanl  was  found  a  quantity  of  haybands  filling  the  coffin,  and 
on  the  surface  of  them  lay  a  very  rude  small  cros?,  fornied  by  merely  tying  two 
twigs  together.  Tliis  fell  to  pieces  on  being  moved.  When  the  haybands,  which 
were  very  sound  and  perfect,  were  removeil,  we  found  a  leaden  case  or  coffin, 
in  some  degree  moulded  to  the  shape  of  a  human  figure ;  it  was  at  once  evident 
this  had  never  been  disturl)ed,  but  lay  as  it  was  originally  dei)osited,  tliough  it 
may  IjC  difficult  to  conjecture  why  it  was  placed  in  a  ca?e  so  rude  and  unsightly, 
and  so  much  too  large  for  it  that  the  haylmnds  had  been  u«ed  to  keep  it  steady. 
AAer  cutting  through  lend  and  leather  wrappers,  the  covers  were  lifted  up,  and 
die  face  of  tlie  king  appeared  in  perfect  preser\*ation ;  the  nose  elevated,  the 
CHiUlnge  even  remaining,  though  on  the  admission  of  air  it  rapidly  sank  away. 
The  skin  of  the  chin  entire,  of  the  consistence,  tliickness,  and  colour  of  the  upper 
katbor  of  a  shoe;  the  beard  thick  and  matted,  of  a  deep  russet  colour;  the  Jaws 

F 


perfect,  and  all  the  teeth  in  rlie 
of  Navarre  was  not  examined 
Although  tlie  gentlenian  to 
pears  convinced  that  he  has  << 
cumstances  corroborative  of  t 
•orb  as  the  absence  of  the  rej 
of  England  were  alway:*  adon 
the  outer  caae  and  the  leaden 
space  witli  haybands ;  as  if,  a 
to  the  roaring  waves,  they  hj 
from  some  vault  or  cemetery  < 
haybands.  llie  cross  of  wii< 
natural  fears  had  been  excitei 
the  skin,  too,  is  inconsistent  w 

*  In  an  old  topo^rniphteal  wo 
iBted  even  in  the  laet  centnry 
iie  site  of  her  &vourite  palace 


KATHERINE  OF  VALOIS, 

BTJENAMBD  THE   FAIR, 

CONSORT  OF  HENRY  V. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Early  calamities  of  Katherino— Abducted  by  her  mother — Recaptured — Henir 
prince  of  Wales — Bo&therine  demanded  for  him — His  accession  as  Henry  V. 
—Reiterates  his  demand — Refused — His  invasion  of  France — ^Agincourt— 
Marriage-treaty  renewed — Katherine's  picture — Henry's  exorbitant  demands 
—Interview  of  Katberine  and  Henry  V.— Her  beauty — Henry  in  love  with 
her — His  anger — Treaty  broken — Renewed  after  two  years — Katherine  .writes 
to  Henry — She  is  offered  with  the  crown  of  France — Receives  Henry  at 
Troyes — Betrothed — Queen's  knight — Marriage  of  Katherine  and  Henry — 
Queen's  dower — French  marriage-ceremonial — Letters  descriptive  of  mar> 
riage— Musical  taste  of  the  queen— She  enters  Paris  in  state— Voyage  to  En9> 
land — Grand  coronation — Her  friendship  for  the  king  of  Sct»ts — Northern 
progress— Katherine  left  in  England — Disobedience — Birth  of  her  son  (Henry 
Vl.) — ^Katherine's  maids — Her  guest — JCatherine  writes  to  tlie  king — Prepares 
to  join  him  in  France. 

Katherine  of  Valois  was  a  babe  in  the  cradle  when  Henry  V.,  at 
prince  of  Wales,  became  an  unsuccessful  suitor  for  the  hand  of  her  eldest 
•ister  Isabella,  the  young  widow  of  Richard  W 

Katherine  was  the  youngest  child  of  Charles  VJ.,  king  of  France,  and 
his  queen,  Isabeau  of  Bavaria ;  she  was  bom  at  a  period  when  her  father's 
health  and  her  mother's  reputation  were  both  in  evil  plight  She  first 
saw  the  light,  Oct  27,  1401,  at  the  H6tel  de  St  Paul,'  in  Paris,  a  palace 
which  was  used  during  the  reign  of  Charles  VI.  as  a  residence  of  retire- 
ment for  the  royal  family,  when  health  required  them  to  lead  a  life  of 
more  domestic  privacy,  than  was  possible  at  the  king's  royal  court  of 
the  Louvre.  The  young  princess  was  reared  at  the  H6tel  de  St  Paul, 
and  tliere  did  her  unfortunate  sire,  Charles  VI.,  spend  the  long  agonising 
intervals  of  his  aberrations  from  reason,  during  which  the  infancy  of  bis 
little  daughter  was  exposed  to  hardships,  such  as  seldom  fall  to  the  lot 
of  the  poorest  cottager. 

Queen  Iwbeau  joined  with  the  king's  brother,  the  duke  of  Orleans,  hi 
pilfering  the  revenues  of  the  royal  household ;  and  to  such  a  degree  dirl 

'  See  the  Lifo  of  Isabella,  commencement  of  the  volume. 
*  Moreri, — Katherine. 


}>alace  of  Si.  Paul,  was  still  i 
of  liis  niisory,  till  one  day  he 
the  disarray  and  neirh'ct  arou: 
from  hi.s  attack  of  delirium,  1 
tions,  without  any  intermedia 
was,  that  directly  llie  news  > 
Spoke  and  looked  composedl 
with  Louis  of  Orleans  to  Mil 
her  brother,  and  the  partisan 
children. 

Louis  not  only  obeyed  thii 
his  two  young  brothers,  and 
with  them  the  children  of  i 
forces  having  arrived  at  the  1 
children,  the  duke  of  Burgun( 
suit  of  them  :  for  the  heir  of 
to  Katherine"'s  sister,  Michelli 
pursuers  overtook  the  two  pr 
sing  themselves  of  the  childrc 
ihey  res|)ectfully  asked  the  t 
*'  whither  he  would  please  t 
return  to  my  father."  He  wt 
Paris,  with  his  sister  Kaiher 
France.' 

After  the  duke  of  Burtjund' 
m  the  streets  of  Paris,  the  con 
that  she  was  imprisoned  at 


KATHBRINB    OF    VALOIS.  85 

Henry  V.  is  supposed  to  have  been  bom  in  1387.  Monmouth  Castle, 
the  place  of  his  birth,  belonged  to  his  mother^s  inheritance :  it  is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  spots  in  our  island.  As  Henry  was  a  sickly  child,  he 
was,  according  to  tradition,  taken  to  Courtfield  to  be  nursed,  a  village 
about  five  or  six  miles  from  Monmouth.  His  cradle  is  still  preserved, 
and  is  shown  as  a  curiosity  at  Bristol.*  The  name  of  his  nurse  was 
Joan  Waring,  on  whom,  afVer  he  came  to  the  tlirone,  he  settled  an  an- 
nuity of  20/.,  for  her  good  services  performed  for  him.  He  was  given 
a  learned  education,  the  first  foundation  of  which  was,  in  all  probability, 
laid  by  his  mother,  who  was,  as  Froissart  expressly  declares,  skilled  in 
Latin,  and  in  cloister  divinity. 

This  princess  died  in  the  year  1391,*  early  in  life,  leaving  an  infant 
fiimily,  consisting  of  four  sons  and  two  daughters.^  The  maternal  grand- 
mother of  young  Henry,  the  countess  of  Hereford,*  bestowed  some  care 
on  his  education.  This  is  proved  by  the  fact,  that  he  left  in  his  will,  to 
the  bishop  of  Duiham,  a  missal  and  a  portophorium^  given  to  him  by  his 
dear  grandmother. 

Henry  was  extremely  fond  of  music,  and  this  taste  was  cultivated  at 
a  very  early  age ;  in  proof  whereof  the  household  book  of  his  grand- 
sire,  John  of  Gaunt,  may  be  cited.  New  strings  were  purchased,  for 
the  harp  of  the  young  hero,  before  he  was  ten  years  old.  About  the 
same  time  tliere  is  a  charge  for  the  scabbard  of  his  little  sword,  and  for 
an  ounce  of  black  silk  to  make  his  sword-knot ;  and,  moreover,  four 
shillings  were  expended  in  seven  books  of  grammar,  for  his  use,  bound 
up  in  one  volume.  There  is  likewise  an  item,  for  payment  of  a  courier 
to  announce  to  Henry  of  Bolingbroke  the  alarming  illness  of  the  young 
lord  Henry,  his  son. 

Richard  11.,  during  the  exile  of  Bolingbroke,  took  possession  of  his 
heir.  The  education  of  young  Henry  was  finished  in  the  palace  of  his 
royal  kinsman,  who  made  him  his  companion  in  his  last  expedition  to 
Ireland.  Here  young  Henry  was  made  a  knight  banneret,  by  the  sword 
of  the  king,  after  distinguishing  himself  in  one  of  the  dangerous,  but 
desultory  combats  with  the  insurgents. 

While  Richatd  went  to  fulfil  his  ill-fortune  in  England,  he  sent  young 
Henry  to  the  castle  of  Trim,  in  Ireland,  with  his  cousin-german,  Hum- 

fi1rey,duke  of  Gloucester,  whose  father  he  had  lately  murdered.  Young 
enry  was  brought  home  from  Ireland  (afler  his  father  had  revolution- 
ised England)  in  a  ship  fitted  out  for  that  purpose  by  Henry  Dry  hurst, 
of  W^est  Chester.  He  met  with  his  father  at  Chester,  and  in  all  proba- 
bility accompanied  him,  on  his  triumphant  march  to  London.  Creton 
affirms  that  Henry  IV.  made  his  son  prince  of  Wales,  at  his  coronation. 
^  But  I  think,''  adds  Richard's  sorrowing  servant,  ^  he  must  win  it  first, 

'  It  wa.«  formerly  at  Troy  House,  a  seat  of  the  duke  of  Beaufort 

•Walj«ing!jam ;  Speed. 

*  Henry  V/s  mother  was  buried  within  King's  Cc liege,  Leicester.     He  paid  for 
s  likeness  of  her  to  be  placed  over  her  tomb. — Pell  Rolls. 

*This  lady  was  alive  long  afler  Henry  had  aaeended  the  throne,  and  had  won 
tae  victory  of  Agiiicourt. 
VOL.  tu. — 8 


I 


KATnEBINE    OF    VALOI8. 

I  for  the  whole  Un<]  of  Wales  is  in  «  lUte  of  rerolt,  oh  kccoimt  of  ili* 

wronga  of  our  dear  lord,  kiug  Ilicliiinl." 
1  There  Is  reason  to  suppose  that,  nller  hii  sire's  coronatioD,  pnnce 
I  Heiiry  completed  his  eilucation  at  Oxford :  for  there  is  an  antique  ebaiu- 
I  b«r  of  Queen's  Collie  pointed  out  by  SQCcessive  ^ner«iioR*,  u  oner 
t  lltviiig  been  inlMbited  by  Henry.  This  is  a  loom  orcr  the  gsiewiv. 
1  opposite  to  Su  Edniuml's  llall.  A  portrait  of  Henry  was  paioicil  iik  ili* 
I  glass  o{  the  wiiiilow,'  and  uodet  it  these  versea  in  Latin : —  ^h 

"To  record  ihe  bet  tor  eret,  ^^H 

Th«  Emperor  of  Brilsin,  ^^H 

The  trlumgiliant  LokI  of  France,  ^^H 
Ths  ounqueroi  of  tui  «nemies  ami  Uitoult 

Of  ibis  !iti!e  cliBioliec  once  the  great  itiliiibitanL" 

Fuller,  who  lived  mora  than  a  hundred  yeara  afler  Henry,  point*  Mt 
tlte  sBoie  coLege-chainber  as  the  abiding  place  of  the  prince. 

Hejiry  was  placed  at  Oxford,  under  the  tutorship  of  his  bsltwuki 
Henry  Beaufort,  a  young,  handsome,  and  turbulent  ecclesiastic,  wboM 
imperious  haugliliness  did  not  arise  from  bis  ascetic  rigidity  of  n 
as  a  piiesu*  Beaufort  had  accompanied  his  charge  to  Ireland,  i 
Itirned  with  him  to  England.  The  early  sppointnienl  of  the  piii 
Ueiiienant  of  Wales,  March  7lh,  14(13,  limits  the  probable  time  c 
■ojourn  al  Oxford,  as  a  student,  to  the  period  between  lite  commi 
meiil  of  the  year  I4UU  and  1402.  The  prince  was  but  sixteen  when  ftc 
fought  coursgeously  at  thai  great  conflict,  where  his  fatlier's  erown  ci* 
coniesled.  Al  the  battle  of  Shrewsbuij-,  when  advancing  too  r&^y  oa 
tfie  enemy's  forces,  he  received  a  wounii  with  an  arrow  in  the  lac«,  ih* 
Kar  of  which  might  be  seen  all  his  life.  Being  advised  to  retire,  ibat 
Ihe  steel  might  be  drawn  out,  '-To  what  place  P"  said  he;  »  who  wilt 
remain  fighting,  if  I,  the  prince,  and  a  king's  son,  retire  ror  fear,  it  the 
first  taste  of  steel  ?  Let  tny  fellow-soldiers  see  that  I  bleed  at  the  Sat 
onset;  for  deeds,  not  words,  are  the  duties  of  princes,  who  shoaU  Mt 
the  example  of  boldness.'" 

Until  after  1407,  the  prince  of  Wales  was  actively  employed  ia  the 
Welsh  campaigns.  Allliuugh  Glenduwer  was  finally  be«t«]  b«clt  to  his 
mountain  finesses,  yet  the  whole  of  the  principality  whs,  during  the 
reign  of  Henry  iV.,  but  a  nominal  appendage  to  the  English  mooardiy. 
Thus  dnprived  of  the  revenues  annexed  to  his  title,  tlie  gnllant  Hairy 
was  subjected  to  the  moel  grinding  and  bitter  poverty.     U»  wihl  diMi- 


uc,  «twM 

prioo^H 

me  of^^^l 


bIh99  liBil  gteadf  falloD  into 
ibliged  lo  iiiipori  tlia  wuidCM*, 
Ins*  pormit  btioet  iIm 


'TjfloTa  Henry  V.— Th«  «M  of  pninung 
ifter  Km  BoteMJon  o{  Hrnry  VII.,  wUo  wi 
MBfipl^■l^  WesiiniiisiPi,  fiam  Don.     Thi 
I  HWtial  nesr  Henry's  own  times. 

'  BsHunirt'i  bctruyal  ot  ■  (lauifhiet  of  the  illuMiious  house  of 
■  by  ia<  will. 

f     ■  TmiislDied  from  ibe  Latin  of  Tiuu  Lirjiu  of  Priuli,  a  leiniail  man, ' 
f  tf  Huinplirej-,  duke  of  Oluuc-ealer,  &ii<t  employeil  hf  h'  '     ' 

"in  broOier;  wliioli  work  is  (aa  migbi  be  eipooteilj   more  teploia  wUlT 
Li  tlian  inctdeut. 


KATHBRINB    OF    VAL0I8.  87 

ptdon  seems  to  have  comnienced  after  his  desultory  rampais^ns  in  Wales 
concluded,  when  he  returned  to  court  with  no  little  of  the  license  of  the 
partisan  soldier.*  His  extreme  poverty,  which  was  shared  by  his  royal 
sire,  made  him  reckless  and  desperate,  and  had  the  natural  consequence 
of  forcing  liim  into  company  helow  his  rank. 

Stow,  in  his  Annals,  declares  ^  the  prince  used  to  dis^ise  himself  and 
lie  in  wait  for  the  receivers  of  the  rents  of  the  crown  lands,  or  of  his 
fiuher's  patrimony,  and  in  the  disguise  of  a  highwayman  -set  upon  them 
and  rob  them.  In  such  encounters  he  sometimes  got  soundly  beaten, 
but  he  alwa3rs  rewarded  such  of  his  father's  officers  who  made  the  stouts 
est  resistance.''* 

But  Henry's  wildest  pranks  were  performed  at  a  manor  of  his,  close 
to  Coventry,  called  Cheylesmore,  a  residence  appertaining  to  his  duchy 
of  Cornwall.  Here  prince  Hal  and  some  of  his  friends  were  taken  into 
custody  by  John  Homesby,  the  mayor  of  Coventry,  for  raising  a  riot* 
Cheylesmore^  was  regarded  by  his  careworn  father  with  painful  jealousy; 
*^  for  thither,"  says  Waisingham,  ^  resorted  all  the  nobility,  as  to  a 
king^  court,  while  that  of  Henry  IV.  was  deserted."  But  Henry  did 
not  eonleot  himself  with  astonishing  John  Homesby,  the  mayor  of  Co- 
ventry, and  his  sober  citizens,  by  a  mad  frolic  now  and  then ;  he  saw 
the  inside  of  a  London  prison  as  well  as  the  gaol  of  Coventry.  It  does 
not  appear  that  the  prince  was  personally  engaged  in  the  uproars  raised 
l»y  his  brothers,  prince  John  and  prince  Thomas,  at  Eastcheap,  which 
are  noted  in  the  London  Chronicle ;  but  in  one  of  these  frays  the  lord- 
mayor  captured  a  fitvourite  servant  belonging  to  the  prince  of  Wales,  and 
carried  him  before  judge  Gascoigne.^  Directly  the  prince  of  Wales  heard 
of  the  detention  of  his  servant,  he  rushed  to  the  court  of  justice,  where 
his  man  stood  arraigned  at  the  bar.  He  endeavoured  with  his  own  hands 
to  free  him  from  his  fetters,  and,  on  the  interference  of  the  judge,  be- 
stowed on  that  functionary  a  box  on  the  ear ;  for  which  outrage  Gas- 
coigne  dauntlessly  reproved  the  prince,  and,  at  the  end  of  a  very  suitable 
lecture,  committ^  him  to  the  prison  of  the  King's  Bencli,  to  which 
Henry,  who  was  struck  with  remorse  at  his  own  mad  violation  of  the 
lawa  of  his  country,  submitted  with  so  good  a  g^race,  that  Henry  IV. 
nade  the  well-known  speech;  ^He  was  proud  of  having  a  son  who 

^In  this  asiertion  we  follow  Titus  Livius.  And  we  ask  tlie  question  wlujtlier, 
if  Henry *s  wildness  as  a  youtli  had  not  been  very  notorious,  would  a  contempo- 
raiy  (who  is  little  more  than  a  panegyrist),  writing  under  the  direction  of  the 
kinp's  brother,  have  dared  to  allude  to  it  1 

*  Speed  is  enraged  at  the  playermen,  who,  he  says,  have  Terified  the  impiit»* 
tions  of  AJain  Copus,  a  contemporary  of  sir  John  Oldcastle,  accusing  that  noble 
as  a  seducer  of  the  prince's  youth,  a  wild  profligate,  who  even  rubbed  occasion* 
ally  on  the  highway.  Shakspcarc  thus  had  some  ground?  for  the  character  of  sir 
John  Falstafl^  whomf  it  will  lie  remembered,  he  calls  sir  John  Oldcantle  in  his 
first  edition.  Titus  Livius  describes  the  dismissal  of  sir  John  OUlcasiIe,  befbro 
the  crown  was  placed  on  Henry's  head,  in  words  which  authorise  Nhakspeare*8 
scene,  excepting  that  the  olfcnce  imputed  to  the  knight  was  protestantiumf  rather 
than  profligacy.  '  Appendix  to  Fordun,  quoted  by  Carte. 

*  Cheylesmore  actually  descended  to  George  IV«  who  sold  it  to  the  marqnls 
of  Hertlbrd  *  Harrisoa's  Survey  of  Londoi* 


X ATnER 


jl 


I 

I 


would  thus  submii  himsdr  lo  the  law*,  anil  thnt  he  Uad  a  jnd^ 
COuIO  so  Tearleasly  ciilbrcu  tliciu."     Ttiia  espluu  is  suppnstnj  In  luit 
been  ihe  reaaan  that  Henry  IV,  retnovuU  liie  son  from  his  jiUm  tt  tbc 
privy  council. 

The  ilesperaie  slate  of  the  yirince^a  linanrea,  ii  is  powible,  might  im- 
tate  him  into  tlieae  exceaeo*,  lor  oil  iiis  Eiieiish  reveiiuM  wen  tnt 
litwed  up  in  the  prosecution  of  Uie  war,  lo  recuiii|uer  WsIm.'  Indcal, 
liiB  chief  income  waa  denveil  Troin  the  grenl  estates  of  hi*  wani,ttii»ari 
of  March.  This  young  prince,  wlio  poaseaMil  s  nearKr  ckiu  W  llw 
tlirone  of  England  tluo  the  line  of  Ijkncasler,  had  been  kept  •  poMwi 
in  Windsor  Caatle,  from  hia  iivfnticy.  In  14112,  Henry  IV.  gave  iht  p^ 
■nil  of  tlie  minor  earl)  trilh  llie  ward^liip  of  his  iwenncx,  to  hb  dilM 
aon — thus  pulling  no  small  temptation  in  the  path  of  an  ainhiiinoa  yooai 
hero.  But  here  ihe  *ety  best  trails  of  priiic«  Henry's  mixed  rinincM 
derelope  themselves :  he  fonneil  the  lenderest  friendship  fur  hit  he^lot 
ward  and  rival. 

From  lime  to  time  TIenry  IV.  made  stiempis  to  obuiti  a  wife  for  hii 
heir.     In  the  preceding  memoir  it  has  been  shown  that  he  was.  in  child- 
hood, contracted  to  the  eldest  daiii;hier  of  Joanna,  dnche«s  ■•!  Hiriiiriit, 
aAerwards  his  atep-molher.     The  bioerapliy  of  Isabella   "i    ' 
proved  how  long  and  assiduouiily  princp  Henry  wooed  Elir  v 
of  Lite  murdered  Richard,  until  all  hoprr  ended,  in  her  ma>  i 
leans,     Marie,  the  second  danghier  of  France,  was  the  nex'  ■  ■ 
choice ;  but  she,  who  had  been  devoted  to  tlie  cloister  even 
birth,  on  being  consulted  whether  she  would  prefer  on  earthly 
and  accept  the  prince  of  Wales,*  indi^iianily  reproved  her  fiuhi 
Toys,  for  imagining  so  profane  a  thought    A  daughter  ol'  the  * 
Burgundy  was  demanded  for  prince  Henry,  but  the  negotnuii 
imauccesaful.     At  last,  both  the  prince  and  his  father  aeeoie ' 
determined  on  obtaining  the  hand  of  the  fair  Catherine,  the  yi 
the  princesses  of  France,  and  a  private  mission  was  con^ded  m 
duke  of  York,  to  demand  her  in  marriage  for  the  prince  of  Wale 
wai  absent,  on  this  errand,  at  the  lime  of  the  death  of  Henry  IV. 

Modem  research  lias  found  reason,  for  the  supposititm,    ' 
Henry  was  intriguing  lo  depose  his  father,  just  before  his  In 
nesa.     The  angry  assertions  of  Humphrey,  duke  of  Glnncester,' 
Henry  Beaufort,  bishop  of  Winchester,  of  the  double  treachery 
gating  the  prince  of  VVulea  to  seize  hia  father's  crown,  and  at  ib«. 
lime  of  plotting  lo  assassinate  the  prince.  These  are  Glouoealer' 
"■  My  brother  was,  when  prince  oi  Wales,  in  great  danger  oitce,  nl 
alept  in  the  green  chamber  al  Weaiminster  palace.     There  waa 
vered,  by  the  rouie  of  a  little  spaniel  belonging  to  the  prince.s 


I,  to  pawn  liit  permnal  omamii 
a  gBrrixiDi  in  Walei,  for  no  moaij  tt 
See  lie  Harris  Nicolas*  Acu  of  (htl 


Jle  wu  ■¥«»  Rirenl.  at  this  ti 
Jpiiali,''  lu  he  culls  Ihem,  lo  pay 
"  laineil  IVoiii  Uie  royal  tevenn 
incTI.  vol.  ii.  p.  fil. 

In  the  ImiD  Kolt)  are  ifae  eipenae*  of  Henry  IV.'t  Ambundon  far  damsiC 

'■SB  >n  mniliaiie,  "fir  [lis  prince  of  Wales.  Ihe  aeeaad  dangbtc^  of  itia  mirra^.' 

'l^rliarauniarj'  Rolte-,  VaiViunemaiY  Hiatocv,  vol.  ii.  pp.  293,  a»4. 


KATHBRINB    OF    VALOI8.  89 

reded  behind  the  arras  near  the  princess  bed.  When  he  was  hauled  out 
by  Henry's  attendantit,  a  dagger  was  found  on  the  man's  person,  and  he 
eonfessed  he  was  hidden  there  to  kill  the  prince  in  the  night,  instigated 
by  Beaufort;  but  when  the  earl  of  Arundel  heard  this,  he  had  the  assas- 
sin's head  tied  in  a  sack,  and  flung  into  the  Thames,  to  stitle  his  evi- 
dence.'^ 

Although  no  chronology  is  expressly  marked  for  these  events,  yet 
internal  evidence  refers  them  to  the  close  of  Henry  IV.'s  existence,  just 
before  the  extreme  indisposition  of  that  monarcli  caused  the  prince  to 
wek  a  reconciliation  with  his  father.  This  he  did  in  a  manner  usually 
eonsidered  very  extraordinary.  He  came  to  court  on  a  New-year's  day, 
dressed  in  a  dark  blue  robe,  worked  with  ailhts  round  the  collar,  to 
each  of  which  hung  a  needle  and  thread ;  and  this  rohc,'  it  is  asserted, 
was  meant  to  indicate  how  much  his  vilifiers  had  slandered  him  to  his 
royal  sire.  Why  needles  and  threads  should  point  out  such  an  inference, 
baa  been  an  enigma ;  but  it  is  explained  easily  enough  by  the  memorial- 
iat  of  Oxfonl.  There  is  a  quaint  old  custom,  founded  by  Robert  de 
El^lesfield,  still  in  use  in  Oxford,  at  Queen's  College,  on  New-year's  day, 
irhen  the  bursar  presents  to  each  of  the  members  of  the  college  a  needle 
and  thread,  adding  this  exordium — 

••Take  this,  and  be  tliriny.*' 

What  the  fellows  of  Queen's  do  now  with  these  useful  implements  we 
know  not ;  in  the  time  of  prince  Hal  they  certainly  stuck  them  on  their 
collars.  The  prince  went  to  court  wearing  all  the  needles  he  had 
received  from  his  bursar,  it  being  the  anniversary  of  their  presentation 
on  New-year's  day;'  he  likewise  wore  the  student's  gown,  which  at  the 
aame  time  reminded  his  sire  that  he  had  not  forgotten  the  lessons  of 
ihnfiiness  he  had  imbibed  at  Queen's  College.  Thus  apparelietl,  he 
advanced  into  the  hall  of  Westminster  Palace,'  and  leaving  all  his  com- 
pany, because  the  weather  was  cold,  ^^  round  about  the  coal  iire^'  in  the 
centre  of  the  hall,  he  advanced  singly  to  pay  his  duty  to  his  father,  who 
was  with  his  attendants  at  the  upper  end.  After  due  salutation,  he  im- 
plored a  private  audience  of  his  sire.  Henry  IV.  made  a  sign  to  his 
attendants  to  carry  him  in  his  chair,  for  he  could  not  walk,  into  his 
private  chamber,  when  the  prince  of  Wales,  falling  on  his  knees,  pre- 
aenled  his  dagger  to  his  father,  and  requested  him  to  pierce  him  to  the 

*  Many  writersit  liave  copied  tliis  curious  passage,  and  most  have  quoted  the 
biography  of  Titus  Livius  as  an  authority.  It  is,  however,  certain  no  such  inci- 
dent is  contained  in  its  pages.  Guthrio  throws  light  on  this  circumstance  in 
his  folio  history  of  Knglnnd,  vol.  ii.  reign  Henry  IV.  He  gives  the  paf>sage  at 
length,  quoting  it  from  some  traet»  of  Titus  Livius ;  noting,  moreover,  that  this 
historian  received  the  particulars  from  the  lips  of  the  earl  of  Onnond,  an  eye- 
witness of  the  scene. 

*  Messrs.  Braley  and  Britton  coincide  with  our  views  of  this  event,  but  they 
hare  not  note<1  the  confirming  circumstance  of  the  anniversary. 

*Kot  Westminster  Hall,  but  tlie  room  calle<l  the  white-hall  (lately  the  House 
of  Lords),  which  was  the  state  reception  room  of  Westminster  IHiloce.  The 
hed-chamber  of  the  king,  and  the  bed-chamber  of  the  queen,  opened  into  it;  and, 
oa  oocasions  of  grand  festivals,  the  whole  suite  were  thrown  o^tu 

8» 


oulwanlly  sllribulnt  by  iK-riry  V.  to  hii  ( 
kinnliaii,  but  ill  md'ay  a  dre{>-jald  metutiul 
■ccite  wan  oiM  uf  ihe  peculiar  realurvi  uT  1 
which  it  W4S  rondurinl  linda  no  panllti 
exhumation  nf  Aj^ae*  de  Castro.  Itichw 
rmiaed  rrom  iu  obsnire  rriling-nlBce  at  I 
clitir  of  KtBle,'  idnrnrd  with  rc^l  omattiea 
his  dead  kiiitman,  and  all  his  court  follows 
llie  cnrpst!  of  the  hoplcMi  Itirhord  wa«  can 
Aiid  laid,  will)  Boleiuii  poinn,  in  tlie  tixnb 
by  ihe  aide  of  hia  b*loi«l  Anne  of  Bobi 
nya  ihp  London  Chronirte,  "■  there  wat  &  ^ 
cutlo  at  Su  Paul^i  Cross,"  who  had  been  I 
that  llirhan)  ira«  in  i-xi»lMi«e.  I 

When  these  n^uitinns  had  subsided,  1I« 
for  iho  hand  of  ths  princess  Kaiherine.  , 
with  her  an  enormous  dowry.  If  the  kntj 
lo  ^re  him  his  daugliier,  it  was  srareely  | 
her  two  RiiUiona  of  crowns,  the  bridal 
together  willi  the  renioratiun  of  Norman' 
rinces.  once  the  inheriiancc  of  Eleanora  e 

There  was  a  tortti  niicgivin^  on  the 
ambitious  heir  of  l^ricastcr  should  make 
their  princesses,  in  streiigihen  the  claim  o 
of  France;  yet  Charips  VI.  wraiW  have  , 
a  dowry  of  ISn.OOO  crowns.  This  the  1 
ilnii).    Henry  deaJreJ  »u  beitur  Uuui  a  lea 


lERI^E    OW    TAI.OI9.  9l 

e  Planragenpt  kingi  lo»k,  in  induce  ilieir  rmilnl  mnsler 

and  llie  forty  Jayi  tliey  wrre  bound  In  «|ipair  in  artp^,  by 

Among  niher  posiimBtons  a(  ibe  mrul  lauiily,  llie  nia^- 

.    n  belonging  to  Henry  IV^  railed  ihe  Great  lEsn-y.  wn,« 

fkile  cupboards  and  beaufeU  al  royal  palaces,  were  rsiitackeil 
Hi  goblels  and  flasons.  and  distributed  lo  like  knights  nnrl 
pti  expedition,  as  pled^s  and  pawns,  that  their  pay  ihoulJ 
g,  when  coin  was  more  plentiful. 
■tout  northern  squire,  to  whose  keeping  was  enn<ideil  the 
kOeorgei'  by  his  warlike  Rnrerei^,  did  not  undertake  his 
■femission  without  a  pawn  of  brnken  silrer  Itagnn*.  Il  wm 
■r  Henry  to  make  ihese  personal  sacriiires.  in  oriler  tn  pay 

■  the  unsetiled  temper  of  the  times  forced  him  to  be  esceed- 

Kin  his  pecuniary  applications  to  his  parliament.  France, 
Id  pay  for  all. 
bklilaiMt,  ihs  banner-bcnrEr  or  St.  Gootgc  ■(  Agincoart,  aRrrwarili 
Prickland,  knighl  uf  the  ahire  toT  WesunotelHnil.  His  I'r'nion  in 
■b  i*  Bdurimu  illudreiion  of  tha  Male  of  the  iini»,  bivI  prove*  haw 
Bee  apecie  WM  in  Cniland  ;  fornotwitliBliiiKlingthD  etirtiiie  piliios 
pa  peiitnn*.  as  ■  poor  >quir#,  not  to  be  bckl  Kccountiiblfi  fM  iho 
I  tilret  flagoni,  knd  Tot  tlis  refloration  or  bii  fiiuttrcn  |hwik1i  Ibur 
nanpenoc.  not  foiKGlting  an  odd  farthing;  'heww  heii  lo  nlraiive 
M  lb*  eldetl  ttnx  of  tit  Wkltcr  SttieklKad  or  Halunetbii,  koichl  of 
Weaunotetaad,  and  gnuiJron  of  [oid  Daaie  of  Gililand." — ^ee  Bum** 

niion  to  Ihe  council  of  Ihe  inhol  Heni;  TI.  ia  ihu  worded  :  — 
m  rapplioatei  ■  poor  tquiic,  Thomiu  <le  Strickland,  laleljr  ihe  bearer 
tO(  Sl  George  fat  Ihe  vety  noble  ki*g  Hmry  V„  whom  (iod  uwil  I 

■  70UI  good  grece  to  coogidet  the  long  »er«>oo  ihai  ths  nil!  auppliBnt 
Ha  king  in  put*  beyond  ten,  at  liiit  airival  al  llaifleur,  and  l)is  bdltlo 
land  since  that  time,  when  the  city  of  Rouen  waa  won.  And  jour 
It  bas  had  no  conipenBaiion  Cor  hi)  labour  Bi  tbe  wiit)  dii]r  ft  Asin- 
t|«y  al  all  saTinfi  do!/  for  one  halFyear.  Not  only  thai ;  but  your 
K  il  bRraghl  in  arrear  with  llis  eichequei  foi  Ihe  iiim  of  Ut.  ICU. 
ib  btoken  (ilrer  pal*  which  waia  pawned  ID  him  bj  tha  said  king 
Be  whiob  Tecael*  your  *uppUiuU  was  forced  to  sell.  aiiJ  the  mooef 
Kern  wa*  all  expended  iu  the  Kivics  of  hi*  late  king.  And  thai  it 
bur  wiie  diMtretioni,  out  of  reTeranoe  to  God  mud  mpcul  lo  tbo 
■a  king,  to  giBDl  10  youl  suppliant  Iho  aaiil  \U.  10a,  li<L,  in  reganl 

pa.  and  aa  pan  payment  uf  Ihe  debt  owed  him  by  tlie  Inte  king  } 
giant  nuy  bo  lufflciem  vrniiant  lor  the  dinclinrge  of  ilie  said  tup- 
le 141.  lOt.  tid.  nibieaaid,  and  itu*  ibr  the  love  of  Cod  and  a  work 

U.  There  i*  an  orJei  &om  the  ocuncil  to  exonerate  SlriMmd,  at 
,  (Wim  the  141.  lOi.  Hit.  See  Ficdem.  vol.  x.  pp.  IIS,  319. 
not  aflbrd  n  remnncraie  the  banner-bfraier  uf  Hi.  Gmrgc  for  whu 
latinui"  at  Ibe  day  of  AgiDconit.  10  lay  nothing  of  t)ie  atill  fteicer 
ding  the  slonning  of  Haiflenr  and  Roum  j  Inil  ihry  gave  hia  aoii, 
lekland,  by  way  of  payrnenl,  Uie  office  of  herediuiry  nuwlor  of  tbe 
,  an  oSloe  whinb  hi*  direct  ilcKendatil  and  rcprrHniial'Ve,  Charlea 
■idlah,  c«l.  M.  P.  oertainjy  doe*  oM  po**™  ai  pri^nL 
Ma  (niiticulara  are  lereired  lo  by  lit  Uarrii  Nicnlni,  in  hii  Iliatoiy 

Kliun  wiih  ifiril  and  Hie  woilhy  of  ila  )uliin.-l.     To  hi 
ftaquently  indebted. 


!■«•••    *•     «  ••     •- 


tliiiiiT!*  tor  liiiiuurronlinir  to  his  toriner  c 
he  (hMnuiiilnl."*  The  KiinHsh  and  tht^ir 
atcd  at  this  witiinsiii.  ^*  'Dicso  balls/ 
angry  puiu  ^*  shuU  be  ti^tnick  buck  with  % 
Paris  gales."' 

But  on  ilie  ven*  eve  of  Henry's  embt 

*•  To  croM  the  sen,  M*ith  pride  ai 

•  plot  for  his  destruction  was  discover 
friend  tiie  earl  of  March  to  the  crown  c 

This  plot  was  concocted  by  the  ea 
relative,  who  had  married  Anne  Mortii 
lady  had  died,  leaving  one  son,  aAerwi 
York,  who.  as  his  uncle  March  was  ch 
Ills  claims.  The  rights  of  this  boy 
Soutliamplon  ctmspimcy.  The  grand  ( 
assert  his  hereditary'  title  against  his  fn« 

The  earl  of  Cambridge  intended,  a 
through  the  agency  of  the  kiiig^s  truste 
to  the  bonlers  of  Wales,  where  the  ei 
be  crowned  with  the  ^  royal  crown  of 
the  common  people  for  the  ciown  of  ] 
▼an  of  the  army  on  a  cushion.     This 

■  Wliite  Keniiet's  History,  vol.  i.       • 
•No  pan  of  hi.*tory  i^  bettor  niither)ticate<' 
a  contein|>omr}' chronicler  who  does  not  me 


K4THSRINS    OF    TALOIfl. 

f  the  earl  to  assert  his  rights,  or  dispossess  his  friend  and 
After  Cambridge  had  opened  his  plan  to  the  earl  of  March, 
ce,  avowe<lly  by  the  advice  of  his  man  Lacy,  refused  to  swear 
he  secret,  but  requested  an  hour^s  space  to  consider  of  the  pro- 
;  which  time  he  used  in  seeking  the  king,  and  informing  him 
mger,  first  requesting  a  pardon  of  Henry  for  listening  sufficiently 
rebels  and  traitors  to  understand  their  schemes.^^  Henry  sum- 
sort  of  court-martial,  of  which  his  brother  Clarence  was  pre- 
nd  made  quick  work  in  the  execution  of  Cambridge,  Scrope, 
Thomas  Grey. 

were  led  out  at  the  north  gate,  and  had  their  heads  stricken  off, 
[enry^s  fleet  hoisted  sail,  and  steered,  with  a  favourable  wind,  out 
ort  of  Southampton,  August  7th,  1415.* 

'  landed  at  the  mouth  of  the  Seine,  three  miles  from  Harfleuri 
r  tremendous  slaughter  on  both  sides,  took  that  strong  fort  of 
*  by  storm,  in  the  beginning  of  October.  Notwithstanding  this 
disease  and  early  winter  brought  Henry  into  a  dangerous  predi- 
till  the  English  Lion  turned  at  bay  at  Agincourt,  and  finished 
'  and  late  campaign  with  one  of  those  victories  which  shed  an 
ng  glory  on  the  annals  of  England — 

)  glared  he  when,  at  Agincourt,  in  wrath  be  turned  at  bay, 

od  cru^h'd  and  torn  beneath  his  paws  the  princely  hunters  lay.'* 

Macattlay. 

Ireadful  panic  into  which  this  victory  threw  France,  and  tlie 
of  her  nobles  and  princes  slain  and  taken  prisoners,  were  the 
rantages  Henry  gained  by  it.  He  returned  to  England,  Nov. 
15,  and  deviating  from  his  favourite  motto,  Une  sans  plus^'^  for 
le  gave  up  all  thoughts  of  obtaining  Katherine  as  a  bride,  and 
ed  his  favourite  valet,  Robert  Waterton,'  to  open  a  private  nego- 
or  the  hand  of  the  princess  of  Arragon,  if  the  beauty  of  the 
i  considered  by  that  confidential  seivant  as  likely  to  suit  his 

ime  Katherine  and  her  family  were  thrown  into  the  utmost  con- 
n  by  the  victories  of  this  lion-like  wooer.  The  death  of  the 
rother  of  Katherine,  the  dauphin  Louis,  was  said  to  have  been 
ted  by  grief,  for  the  day  of  Agincourt,  and  his  demise  was  fol- 
ith  such  celerity  by  the  decease  of  her  next  brother,  the  dau- 
in,  that  all  France  took  alarm.  The  loss  of  the  princes  was 
d  to  their  unnatural  mother,  Isabeau  of  Bavaria,  to  whom  the 
as  imputed  of  poisoning  them  both.    The  unfortunate  father  of 

ardon  requested  by  the  earl  of  March  is,  in  the  Fcedera,  dated  the  samo 
is  a  pardon,  not  only  for  listening  to  treasonable  conirnunirations,  but 
I  list  of  tranf4rression^  that  if  March  (who  was  really  a  highly  moral 
ince)  had  spent  the  whole  of  bis  short  life,  in  sinning,  he  coul<l  scarcely 
nd  time  to  commit  them  all.  The  unfortunate  orphan  of  the  earl  of 
;e,  Richard  of  York,  vms  left  in  the  custody  of  Waterton,  tUe  brodiei 
V.th's  favourite  valet, — FaderOf  vol.  viiL 
e,  vol.  ii.,  reign  of  lleury*V, 


Iieau  weiDMl  eentmJ  on  Katb«nne  ilonfl 
(jihd  chililren.  Kmherioe  haJ  »ery  eai 
of  EngUnil,  and  tl  will  •oon  b«  ahown  li 
i  ill  nil  hrr  d«U|;hicr'i  wishes 

111  otiler  u>  fullil  ihi»  obJFCl,  when  it  i 
longer  8usUin  iu  tuns  iloloniiia  siege, 
KaitiPiine's  picture,  to  ask  Urnry  ^wIm 

auired  siirli  a  ^r«a[  dowry  at  he  drnmn 
ore  ilt^kreil  iliey  ftmiK!  Henry  at  Bou 
gazed  luij^  and  eianieKily  on  the  porin 
thai  tl  wia  •urpassingly  fair,  bul  refusad 
biunt  ijcmanils.* 

The  close  of  ilic  year  U 1 8  raw  the  fa] 
uid  inrrensed  the  (lr<pair  of  Kalherini 
laabeau  resolveil  tlial,  aa  tlie  pielare  of 
in  mollifying  (lie  proud  heart  of  the  cm 
persuiwl  cliamia  of  her  KKiherine  coal 
Willi  Henry  V..  who  liad  now  pushed 
The  poor  diBiracied  kiii([  of  France,  n 
beauiifiil  daughter  Kaiherine,  in  s  riel 
Ponioise,  in  hopes  of  elleeiing  an  bidk 
queror.  At  Ponloise  a  large  cnclosun 
which  the  conferences  were  lo  be  au\ 
fay  a  deep  (tileh,  having  on  one  side  iha 
several  entrance*  well  secured  by  three 
made  of  blue  and  green  velvet,  wotii 
repose  and  refrexhrnenL 
HoundMUMliw  iIm  kiar  t£  Fbm 


EATIIERtNE    OF    VALOIi.  99 

fothen  and  council,  arrived  on  ihis  neutral  ground  hy  unoiher  bar- 
and  with  a  tnnsi  rcspeclTuI  obeisance  mel  and  tainted  queen  lsab«u ; 
then  kiug  Ileory  nol  only  kissed  bet,  but  the  laily  Kntheniic. 
key  PBicreJ  ttie  lent  (liiched  fur  ihe  conrcreiice.  liing  Henry  leading 
n  IrabMU.  Henry  seated  himself  oppofile  lo  Katlierine.  ami  gazeJ 
ir  miMi  inlenily,  irhile  the  earl  of  Warwick  was  making  a  long  ha 
lie  in  French,  which  he  »poke  very  well.  After  they  had  remsine'i 
)  long  time  in  conference,  lliey  ieparaied,  taking  the  moat  reapectAil 
(  of  cBcli  other. 

hia  harrier  ccetie  is  evidently  meant  to  be  depicted  by  the  celebmteil 
Mil  painting  once  in  the  possession  of  Horace  VValpole.'  Henry  VII. 
tliia  picture  painted  for  hit  chapel  at  Shene,  and,  u  the  well-known 
K«9  uf  Henry  V,  is  striking,  tliere  i»  reason  lo  believe  the  satne  care 
taken  in  purtrayiiig  the  features  of  Katherine  of  Valois.  The  oval 
*  of  her  face,  her  clear  ivory  complexion,  and  large  dark  eyes.  cotD- 
wiih  the  descriptions  of  the  old  French  chroniclers.*  Kaiherine'a 
u  loo  short,  or  ihe  fac«  would  be  perfuct;  the  expression  is  inane 
p«ssion|pss.  She  wears  an  arched  crown,  and  a  species  of  veU, 
n>ed  at  each  side  witli  einiiiie,  and  reachine  to  the  shoulders.  Her 
Ir,  uf  the  regal  form,  is  worn  over  a  close  gnt^n,  tight  to  the  throat; 

[i  i>f  ermine  posses  ilown  the  front,  and  is  studded  with  jewels. 

ri'v  weeks  afierwurds,  all  the  [oyal  personages,  with  the  excepiicn 
I'  l.iiiy  KatlieriiiCt  met  fur  another  conference,  at  the  barrier-gTouiKl 
uoioi*«>.  As  llie  view  of  Katherine'a  beamy  had  not  induced  Henry 
iiwer  his  demands,  queen  Isabeau  resolved  that  the  Englbh  coni^ueror 
old  SCO  her  no  mnic.  Henry  was  exceedingly  discuntenied  at  this 
Dgctnent.  "For,"  says  Monairelet,  "(he  princess  was  very  hand- 
le, and  hiid  most  engaging  manners,  and  it  was  plainly  to  be  seen 

king  Hitnry  was  desperately  in  love  with  her."  Tel  the  stcontl 
rere»c«  ended,  without  the  least  abatement  in  his  exorbitant  requi- 

ifter  the  English  hero  had  wailed  unsrailingly  a  few  days.  In  hope* 
>eiiig  courted  by  the  family  of  his  beloved,  he  impaiien^r  demanded 
lird  interview,  meaning  to  modify  his  demands ; — when  lo!  to  his 
mU  displeasure,  when  he  arrived  at  Ponioise,  he  found  iho  lent* 
ick,  tiie  barriers  pulled  down,  and  the  pales  tliai  markfid  out  the  neu- 

grouud  taken  away — every  thing  showing  that  llie  marriage-ireaty 
I  supposed  to  be  ended.  Henry  V.  was  infuriated  at  the  sight,  wid  in 
tnuisnorts  betrayed  how  much  he  had  become  enamoured  of  Kaih^ 
I.'  He  turned  angrily  lo  lli«  duke  nf  Burgumiy.  who  was  llm  only 
■oa  belonging  to  the  royal  family  of  France  atiendiiig  the  cuufetvuce, 

said  abruptly — 

■  Fair  cousin,  we  wish  you  to  know  ibai  we  trill  have  the  dsughter 
r.r  king,  or  we  will  drive  him  and  you  out  of  his  kingdom.'  The 
irplied,  *  Sire,  you  are  pleased  to  say  so ;  but,  before  you  ha*« 

riiii  iikiBiF  WM  wM  Bi  tbo  Uta  uJe  u  Sirewlierry  GUI),  wh«i«  it  wu.  m 

t,  •nbniiRe'l  to  imblii:  impeotion.     It  it  painlad  on  boartl. 

(m  Gulllauina  de  Orual.  'Uonstrolel. 


L 


Ircal  with  no  one  l)iit  the  pr 
he  was  surr,  would  not  try 

Notice  of  this  speech  bei 
she  made  the  bishop  of  Arni 
if  he  would  come  lo  Troves 
that  as  her  inheritance  he  s 
death  of  king  Charles ;"  and 
8ecretly  delivered  to  the  kin 
Katherine  herself,  so  full  o 
happiness  as  certain.* 

The  English  monarch  was 
fine,  not  only  the  provinces  1 
sovereignty  of  France,  with 
regent.  By  this  treaty  the  c 
rine  were  to  be  disinherited. 
Henn',  accompanied  by  his  h 
teen  hundred  combatants,  n^ 
he  arrived  on  the  2()th  of  } 
clothed  in  the  deepest  mour 
little  distance  from  Troves, ; 
Hotel  de  Ville,  where  lodgin 
was  presented  the  next  day 
enthroned  in  the  church  of  N 
suit  of  burnished  armour ;  bi 
met  a  fox^s  tail,  ornamented  ^ 
tliat  the  warrior  king  of  Engla 

recTHrdinor   r1rp««r        Hpnrv  nnm 


^V  EAT  II  ERIMBOPV  ALOIS.  97 

MMnmt  of  his  infiim  healih,  saying,  ■'  thai  the  king  was  ill  (1U|iosed." 
The  unfurnmale  (ather  of  KaiherJiie  could  not  go  through  ihe  scene, 
which  apparently  annihilated  (he  hopes  of  hia  young  heir;  but  llie  duke 
of  Burgundy  officiated  as  the  deputy  of  biti  royal  kinsman,  and  the  iin- 
ponant  treaty  was  signed.' 

The  be trc) thine nt  of  Henry  and  Kalherine  instantly  followed;  ani}, 
whrn  (he  English  monarch  received  Katherine's  prooiise,  he  plitccd  nu 
ber  finger  a  ring  of  iDeslimahle  value,  supposed  (o  be  the  same  worn  hf 
our  English  cjueen-consorls  al  their  coronation.*  After  the  conclusion 
of  the  ceremony,  Henry  presented  to  his  betrothed  bride  his  favouiits 
knight,  sir  Louis  de  Robsart,'  to  whom  he  committed  the  defence  nf 
her  person,  and  the  ofEce  of  guarding  her  while  in  Frnnce.  The  real 
meaning  of  which  ceremony  was,  that  Henry  V,  took  the  princesi  into 
his  own  custody  afler  betrothmeni.  and  would  bave  retaineil  her  by 
force^  if  her  family  had  changed  their  minds  legarding  hifl  marriagr. 
Katherine  was  now  bis  property ;  and  it  was  the  duly  of  sir  Louis  de 
Robsart  to  guard  the  safe  keeping  of  that  propeny. 

Henry  himself  announced  the  pe&re  and  betrnlhmeni,  in  a  letter' 
addressed  to  his  council  of  regency,  the  duke  of  Gloucester  being  juet 
appointed  regent  of  England  : — 

-  Right  UUII7,  and  well-belorod  brother.     RLglit  worsliipriil   fathers  in  God, 

tnd  irutiy  and  well-beloved.    Forasmuch,  tbat  we  wot  well  ibu  your  dHirei 

were  to  iieat  joyful  tidings  of  our  good  apeed  ; — We  sieniiy  lo  you,  (wonhippod 
be  our  Loril,  tlini  of  our  tsliour  bnili  sent  us  eood  conclusion.) 

■Upon  Mon'tay.  ihe  90ih  dny  of  ibii  May,  w*  arrived  at  this  nmrDorTroyn*; 
■nd  on  ihe  morrow  Saddin  a  convoniion  betwii  our  motler  tlie>]ue<<nof  Francei 
and  »»  brolhei  tbo  doc  of  Burguit(ne  (us  cumuiiauirai  of  the  king  of  Fniwe, 
SBT  bder.  Tot  bit  partit).  and  us  in  our  own  person  for  our  jiarlii  (lide].  And 
ihe  xv^'id  of  peaoe  ppipetunl  wiu  there  sworn,  by  both  die  snid  oommiBiiineTS 
Id  tba  Tume  ofour  aforenid  (adcr.and  wmblably  by  ni  in  our  own  nunc.  And 
the  letten  Ihrreiipon  fortbwitb  eniealed,  under  lh«  great  seal  of  our  niil  ftdot 
ID  ii#-iMrrf,  and  undpr  nun  lo  ftim-ward,  tlie  copy  of  whifh  Irllet  we  send  yea 
enclosed  tu  Iliii.  Also,  ai  the  taiil  convention  wa«  mnrringe  lietfotlied  belwiit 
u  and  our  te^,  dau^ier  of  our  aibrenid  fader,  the  king  of  Praooe." 

The  treaty  of  peace,  which  the  king  declarer  is  enclosed  in  hi*  letter, 
ii  addressed  lo  hia  viscounts'  of  London. 
Some  exinicta  are  of  a  envious  naiure  >— 


I 


,  by, 


lenry,  "aecorrled  balween  our  Cider  of  France  anil 
e  bond  of  maiiimon]'  made  for  die  good  of  Deuce 
i  Diual  beloved  Kaiheiine,  the  daughter  of 


.nd  Notes  of  London  ChnnuDle,  hj  ti 


lUrrl 


ur  uid   bdor  and 
Nioolaa,  p.  ISl. 


'Ilia  English  nf  Henry  V.'a  letter*,  bolb  in  phraMology  and  onhogniphy,  is 
benct  than  Uiat  of  Henry  VUL  itir  John  Pen,  in  bis  I'uMun  Papers,  obMtves 
Ihat  the  very  hlguly  eiluraied  persons  of  ihi>  era  Write  leitcrs  ag  well  tpelled  ai 
In  Ihe  era  of  Chade*  I.,  and  adduces  the  autograph  letleis  of  Etlmund  Clerp. 
Henry  V.  spella  all  his  sninll  worils  of  the  preposition  and  conjunctive  kiml 
ptrfmnly.     For  the  take  of  peropiuuity.  we  give  hit  wriiiog  in  the  ortbogtapbj 


''  On  Trinity  Sunday,  Ju 
land  wedded  the  lady  Kath 
which  he  lodged.  Great  pt 
and  his  princes,  as  if  he  hac 

The  archbishop  of  Sens 
and  during  the  nighl  a  gn 
royal  pair,  bringing  them  v 
things  to  comply  with  the 
this  strange  ceremonial  was 
next  day,  after  a  splendid  fe; 
proposed  a  succession  of  tc 
at  fighting  was  not  to  be  th 
siege  of  Sens,  where  they 
chose."* 

The  letters  written  on  oc 
co»:ftiers,  are  the  earliest  spc 
lowing  epistle  by  John  Uffo 
hensive  a  view  of  afiairs,  at  l 

"  Worshipful  Maibtbr, 
"  I  recommend  me  to  yoa.  I 
lord  was  wedded  with  great  so 
mid-day  on  Trinity  Sunday.  Ar 
towards  the  town  of  Sens,  sixte 
queen  and  the  French  egtat'*.  , 
to  that  town — a  gre^t  town,  and 
is  holden  strong  with  great  num 
boeiegod.     For  there  lie  at  that 


KATnSKIHK    OF    YALOIfl.  99 

*  And  at  this  siege  also  are  lien  many  worthy  ladies  and  j'antilwomen^  both 
French  and  English,  of  the  which  many  of  them  began  feats  of  arms  long  time 
■fone,  but  of  lying  at  sieges  now  they  begin  first. 

"  I  pray  that  ye  will  recommend  me  to  my  worshipful  lord  the  chancellor, 
■od  to  my  lord  the  treasurer.  And,  furthermore,  will  ye  wit  (know)  that  Paris, 
with  other,  is  sworn  to  obey  the  king  our  sovereign  lord,  as  heritcr  and  governor 
of  France— and  so  they  do. 

**  And  on  Wittund  Monday  final  peace  was  proclaimed  in  Pans,  and  on  Tues- 
day was  a  solemn  mass  of  Our  Lady,  and  a  solemn  procession  of  all  tlie  great 
■nd  worthy  men  of  Paris,  thanking  God  for  tliis  acconl. 

**  And  now  Englishmen  go  into  Paris  ofl  a5  they  will,  witliout  any  safe  con- 
duct or  any  letting  (giving  leave).  And  Paris  and  all  other  towns,  turned  from 
die  Armagnac  party,  make  great  joy  and  mirth  every  holiday,  in  dancing  and 
DBiolling.  I  pray  God  send  grace  to  both  realms,  of  much  mirth  and  gladiiess, 
tnd  give  you  in  health  much  joy  and  prosperity  long  to  endure. 

■■  I  pray  that  ye  will  vouchsafe  to  let  this  letter  commend  me  to  Abel  Howit 
md  &iyley,  and  to  sir  John  Brockholes,  and  to  greet  well  Richard  Prior  (M'hom* 
die  fair  town  of  Vernon  on  Seine  grceteth  well  also),  and  Will  Albtow  and 
[Ark  and  all  the  meinie^  and  king  Barbour  and  his  wife.  Written  at  the  siege 
at  Sens,  the  Cth  day  of  June,  in  haste,  ^ens  is  further  than  Paris  thir^-four 
leagues,  and  Troyes  is  furttier  than  Paris  thirty-six  leagues. 

**  Will  ye  say  to  my  brother,  Maister  Piers,  that  I  send  him  a  letter  by  the 
ftnnger  hereof!  *<  Your  own  Servant, 

"JoBAir  Ofort." 

Thus  was  the  honeymoon  of  Katherine  the  Fair  passed  at  sieges  and 
leaguers ;  her  bridal  music  was  the  §rroans  of  France.  Horror,  unutter- 
iUe  horror,  was  the  attendant  on  these  nuptials ;  for  the  cruel  massacre 
of  Montereau*  took  place  within  a  fortnight  of  the  queen^s  espousals. 
TeC  Katherine  was  no  unwilling  bride ;  for,  as  her  brother-in-law,  Philip 
the  Good  of  Burgundy,  expressly  declared,  ^  she  had  passionately  longed 
to  be  espoused  to  king  Henry;  and,  from  the  moment  she  saw  him,  had 
constantly  solicited  her  mother,  with  whom  she  could  do  any  thing,  till 
her  marriage  took  place.'"  But  not  a  word,  not  a  sign  of  objection  to 
the  cruelties  and  slaughter  that  followed  her  marriage,  is  recorded ;  nor 
did  the  royal  beauty  ever  intercede  for  her  wretched  country  with  her 
rly-wedded  lord. 

Sens  received  Henry  and  Katherine  within  its  walls,  soon  after  the 
had  commenced  in  form.  The  king  and  queen  of  England  entered 
in  great  state,  accompanied  by  the  archbishop  of  Sens,  who  had  a  few 
dftyv  before  joined  their  hands  at  Troyes.  This  prelate  had  been  ex- 
pelled from  his  diocese  by  the  party  of  the  Armagnacs,  but  he  was  rein- 
mted  by  Henry  V.,  who,  turning  to  him  with  a  smile  as  they  entered 
the  cathedral,  said,  ^  Now,  Monseigneur  Archevesque,  we  are  quits ;  for 
yoQ  gave  me  my  wife  the  other  day,  and  1  restore  yours  to  you  this 
dey.*^ 

While  the  desperate  siege  of  Montereau  proceeded,  the  queen  of  Elng- 
knd,  and  her  lather  and   mother,  with  their  courts  and  households^ 

*  This  sad  page  of  history  is  detailed  by  Monstrelet  Henry  Y^  exasperated 
bj  the  desperate  defence  of  this  town  for  its  native  sovereign,  butchered  the 
larnson,  under  pretence  of  revenging  the  death  of  John  duke  of  finrgundy,  with 
whose  death  the  gnrriMin  had  not  the  slightest  coneern,  nor  was  Henry  in  tba 
It  called  ufMn  lo  avenge  it.  *  Martin's  Chron&ole,  *  MocA«Tt\«v» 


I 


100  HATHttXINEOP    VALOtS. 

miilpd  ai  Bray  sur  Seine.  Here  Henry  pnid  rm^iHrnt  vints  to  hm  bnSt 
After  ihe  Iragetly  of  Monlerrau,  ihe  united  courw  roiKned  U)  CoiM, 
wliere  queen  Kattieiine  \va»  joinetl  by  her  siEier-in-law,  Msrgsrvl  daehoi 
of  Clarence,  and  by  many  noble  ladies,  who  had  come  from  EngtaDd  la 
pay  iheir  duly  lo  the  bride  of  king  Henry.  Siie  n-as  with  her  nnilbR 
anil  kitig  Charles  at  the  camp  before  Meluu.  "  But,  indeed,'"  ny*  Mm- 
strelet,  "  il  waa  a  sorry  sight  to  see  the  king  of  F«n<*  beren  lif  aU  In 
usual  Slate  and  pomp.  They  resided,  with  many  ladies  and  danucU 
about  a  month,  in  a  hoasc  king  Henrj-  hod  built  for  Uicm  near  hii  tnok 
ami  ai  a  distance  from  the  tomi,  thai  the  roar  of  ihe  csnnoD  might  not 
«iartle  king  Charles,  (^veiy  day  st  sunrise,"  coiUiitu*.-s  ihe  Burfuwln. 
■■  and  Bi  nighifail,  ten  clarions,  and  diven  oiher  instrurnenis,  nm  •«• 
dered  by  king  Henry  lo  play  for  an  hour,  nifwl  melodiously,  btSon  tSi 
door  of  the  king  of  France."  The  malady  of  the  unhappy  biher  gf 
Katheriiie  was  soothed  by  music. 

This  was  evidently  ihe  military  band  of  Henry  V.,  the  first  whi^  a 
i!i«tinctly  mentioned  in  chronicles.  .  Henry  was  himself  a  pecfomier  oa 
the  harp  from  an  early  age.  He  likewise  was  a  composer,  dctigkiing  ■ 
chtirch  harmony,  which  he  used  in  practise  on  the  or;gan.'  Thai  bt 
found  similar  tastes  in  his  royai  bride,  is  evident  from  an  item  ID  ikt 
Issue  Rolls,'  whereby  it  appears  he  sent  to  England  to  obtain  new  harpi 
for  Ratherine  and  him.ielf,  in  the  October  succeeding  his  wedlock  :  "  pjr 
Ihe  hands  of  William  Menslon  was  paid  Si.  13«  id.,  for  two  nev  b^ 
purchased  for  king  Henry  and  qneen  Katherine,"  If  itie  reader  il 
aiuiouE  to  know  who  was  the  best  harp-maker  in  Loudon  al  ihia  period, 
complete  satisfaction  can  be  given ;  for  a  previoM  (kicnmnil  neniiom 
another  harp  sent  to  Henry,  when  in  France,  "  purchasml  of  John  Bom 
harp-maker,  London ;  together  with  several  doaeii  hnrp-chordf  uri  i 
harp- case." 

M  the  surrender  of  Melurt,  the  rile  mother  of  queen  KBibniiM  wm 
proclaimed  regent  of  France,  through  the  inlluence  of  her  siw-n-ln, 
who  considered  queen  Isabeau  entirely  d<^oted  to  hnr  daugbler'*  nir- 
rest.  This  was  a  preparatory  step  lo  a  visit  which  Henry  tntonM* 
make  10  his  own  country,  for  the  purpose  of  showing  the  £ngUiA  to 
heauiirul  bride,  and  performing  the  cen-monial  of  her  coronatton.  Tb* 
royal  personnges  of  France  and  England  now  approached  i'ari»,  ia  <Kict 
that  the  king  and  queen  of  England  might  m^e  their  triumphal  aof 
into  that  city;  but  Henry, not  knowing  how  the  Parii^iaiiK  iniehi  irtti** 
thero,  chose  to  precede  his  wife,  and  take  possession  of  ttie  alv,  bcfoM 
■  ventured  to  trust  her  within  its  walls. 

"Qneen  Kaiherine  and  her  mother  made  their  gretid  pntry  iiHo  P»* 

'Xt  day.     Great  magnjticence  was  displayed  at  ihe  arrival  of  Um  ^mM 

of  England,  but  it  would  take  up  too  much  time  lo  relaio  all  Hi*  ilct 

presents  that  were  oflered  to  her  by  the  citizens  of  Paris.     7*h*  a 

and  houses  weie  hung  with  tapestry  the  whole  of  that  day,  an 

'  Elfnliam'k  Cliroiitole,  p.  IS.    UkewLte  a  Froncb  nlironicler,  unuwJ  hj  CU 
hiivs  In  hit  nmc*  lo  Mouuelalj  auil  Di.  Reni;,  voL  a.  p.  337, 
TiStM  361,301. 


KATHKRINK    OW    YALOIf.  101 

eonstantly  ranning  from  brtss  cocks  and  in  conduits  through  the  squares, 
■o  that  ali  persons  might  have  it  in  abundance;  and  more  rejoicings  tKan 
Umirue  can  tell  were  made  in  Paris,  for  the  peace,  and  for  the  marriage 
of  Katherine  the  Fair.^' ' 

The  miserably  exhausted  state  of  France  prevented  Katherine  from 
teceiving  any  solid  sum  as  her  fortune ;  but  she  had  an  income  of  forty 
thousand  francs,  the  usual  revenue  of  the  queens  of  France,  settled  on 
her  at  her  marriage  by  her  father ;  a  few  scanty  instalments  of  which 
|iroved,  in  reality,  the  only  property  she  ever  derived  from  her  own 
country.  This  circumstance  gives  an  exemplification,  by  no  means 
uncommon  in  life,  of  the  manner  in  which  exorbitancy  in  pecuniary  de- 
■lands  often  defeats  its  own  ends.  Had  Henry  V.  required  a  more  reason- 
Me  dowry  with  his  bride,  Katherine  might  have  been  reckoned  amoag 
the  richest  of  our  queens,  instead  of  being,  with  all  her  high-sounding 
expectations,  in  reality,  the  poorest  among  them  all. 

The  ro3ral  pair  spent  their  Christmas  at  Paris ;  but,  at  the  end  of  the 
fintivaU  Henry  thought  it  best  to  pay  some  attention  to  the  prayer  of 
kis  fiiithful  commons,  who  had  lately  begged  that  he,  with  his  gracious 
queen,  would  please  to  return  to  England,  to  comfort,  support,  and  re- 
fresh them  by  their  presence.'  Accordingly,  Henry  set  out  with  his 
queen  on  a  winter  journey  through  France,  escorted  by  the  duke  of 
Bedford,  at  the  head  of  six  thousand  men.  Queen  Katherine  arrived  at 
Amiens  on  St.  Vincent's  day,  and  was  lodged  in  the  hotel  of  maitre 
Robert  le  Jeune,  bailiff  of  Amiens,  and  many  costly  presents  were  made 
to  her  by  that  magistrate.' 

The  royal  pair  embarked  at  Calais,  and  landed  at  Dover,  February  1st, 
^  where,''  observes  Monstrelet,  ^  Katherine  was  received  as  if  she  had 
been  an  angel  of  God." 

The  magnificent  coronation  of  the  queen  took  place  as  early  af\er  her 
landing  as  the  24th  of  February.  She  was  led  on  foot  from  Westminster 
Palace  to  the  abbey,  between  two  bishops,  and  was  ci owned  by  tho 
bands  of  archbishop  Chichely,  on  the  24th  of  February,  1421.  It  is 
expressly  mentioned  that  Katherine  sat  on  the  King's  Bench  at  West^ 
minster  Hall,  by  Henry's  side,  at  the  coronation  feast. 

^  It  is  worth  the  noting,"  says  old  Raphael  Holingshead,  ^  to  take  a 
Tiew  of  all  the  goodly  order  and  reverend  dutifulness  exhibited  on  all 
aides,  towards  the  new  queen.  Afler  the  coronation  was  ended,  queen 
Katherine  was  conveyed  into  the  great  hall  of  Westminster,  and  there 
eat  at  dinner.  Upon  her  right  hand  sat,  at  the  end  of  the  table,  the  arch* 
bishop  of  Canterbury  and  cardinal  Beaufort.  Upon  the  lef\  hand  of  the 
queen  sat  James  I.,  king  of  Scotland,^  under  his  canopy,  who  was  served 

■  MonstrelfU  •  PnrliRmentary  History,  vol.  ii.  p.  106.  'Monstrelet 

*  The  royal  miDi^trel,  James  Stuart,  who  had  been  captive  in  England  sines 
his  l>oyliOod ;  he  was  given  a  careful  education  at  Windsor  by  Henry  IV^  and 
wrote  many  beautiful  poems,  taking  for  his  models  Chaucer  and  Qower.  whom 
be  trails  his  "maistres  dear.*'  From  the  top  of  the  Maiden's  Tower  in  Windsoi 
Cn«tle  he  foil  in  love  with  Joanna  Beaufort,  half-niece  to  Henry  V.,  whom  hs 
saw  walking  in  the  garden  below.  Queen  Katberine's  friendship  gave  a  turn 
IS  lus  adverse  Ibrtunes. 

9* 


alderman  Fabian,  '*  that  this  fej 
24th,  Lent  was  entered  upon, 
brawn,  served  with  mustard." 
Fabian  mentions  especially  deai 

The  table  ornaments,  called 
their  mottoes  a  political  meanin 
St.  Katherine,  the  queen's  patro 
ing  a  label  in  her  right  hand, 
and  a  pelican  held  an  answer  in 

Cest  la  signe  et  du  toy 

Parer  lencz  joy, 

£t  tout  sa  gent 

Ellc  mette  sa  content 

The  second  course  of  this  f 
lumbine  flowers;  white  pottag 
sea ;  conger ;  soles ;  cheven,  or 
crayfish,  or  lobster;  leche,  da 
flourished,  ^'  Unc  sans  plus;'^'^  Ian 
with  a  scutcheon  royal,  and  th( 
fleurs-de-lis  and  (lowers  of  can 
fectionary),  and  a  subtlety  nam' 
St.  Katherine,  having  a  wheel  ii 

La  reyne  ma  fille 
In  cette  ile 
Per  bon  reason 
Aie  renown. 


K4THBKIHS  OF    TALOIf.  108 

II  est  ecrit,  It  is  written, 

Pur  voir  et  cil,  It  majr  bo  seen  and  is, 

Per  manage  pure  In  marriage  pure 

Cest  guerre  nc  dure.  No  strifes  endure. 

And,  lastly,  there  was  a  subtlety,  named  a  tigre^  looking  in  a  mirror, 
•nd  a  roan  on  horseback  clean  annei],  holding  a  tiger's  whelp  in  his 
hands,  with  this  motto : — Perforce  sans  reason  je  prise  celte  teste:  ^  By 
force  of  anns,  and  not  by  that  of  reason,  have  I  captured  this  beast." 
The  small  tiger  and  the  motto  meant  an  uncivil  allusion  to  Kutherine's 
▼oung  brother,  the  dauphin ;  the  figure  made  show  of  throwing  mirrors  at 
the  great  tiger,  which  held  in  his  paw  this  reason  (label  with  motto)  :— 

Gile  che  mirronr  The  sight  of  this  mirror 

Ma  festa  distour.  Tames  wild  bea^its  of  terror. 

The  only  instance  of  active  benevolence  ever  recorded  of  Katherine 
the  Fair,  took  place  at  this  coronation  feast,  when  the  queen  publicly 
interceded  with  her  monarch-bridegroom  for  the  liberation  of  liis  royal 
guest  and  prisoner,  James  I.  of  Scotland,  then  at  table.  This  suit  seems 
to  have  been  granted,  on  condition  that  James  should  bear  arms  under 
Henry  V.'*8  banner,  for  the  purpose  of  completing  the  subjugation  of 
France.'  Katherine  likewise  took  in  hand  the  management  of  the  love- 
afEiirs  of  the  accomplished  king  of  Scotland ;  and,  through  her  agency, 
hopes  were  held  out  to  the  gallant  James,  that  if  he  gave  satisfaction  to 
king  Henry  in  the  ensuing  campaign,  he  need  not  despair  of  possessing 
the  beautiful  Joanna  Beaufort,  with  whom  he  was  so  desperately  ena- 
moured. Stow  affirms  that  this  lady  was  betrothed  to  king  James  before 
the  festivals  of  Katherine's  coronation  ended.  Katherine  presented  sir 
James  Stuart  with  the  gilt  cup  with  which  he  served  her  as  sewer  at 
the  coronation.' 

After  the  festivals  had  concluded,  the  queen  was  left  by  Henry  in  her 
palace  of  Westminster  till  Palm  Sunday,  when  she  removed  to  Windsor, 
expecting  to  meet  the  king,  who  had  promised  to  pass  Easter  with  her 
at  the  castle.  Henry,  however,  found  it  impossible  to  return  from  the 
north,  whither  he  had  gone  on  progress ;  he  therefore  sent  for  the  queen 
to  Leicester,  where  they  celebrated  the  spring  festival ;  they  then  con- 
tinued the  progress  together,  visiting  the  shrines  of  all  northern  saints. 

*  This  was  done,  but  it  is  certain  that  James  macle  Uie  ensuing  campaign  as  a 
private  knight;  for  his  nubjects  were  fighting  for  the  dauphin,  under  the  earl  of 
Ax:Uan,  son  to  his  usurping  uncle,  the  dnke  of  Albany.  This  Scotch  army  soon 
mfler  gave  to  England  the  first  reverse  they  had  met  in  France,  at  iJaugy, 

Swinton  laid  the  lance  in  rest 

lljat  tame<l  of  yure  the  sparkJing  crest 

Of  Clarence's  Plantagenet 

tfir  John  Swinton,  of  Swinton,  unhorsed  the  duke  of  Clarence,  and  wounded 
him  in  th(>  face;  the  enrl  of  Biu^han  afterwards  killed  him  with  a  blow  of  his 
truncheon,  but  to  the  gallant  JSwinton  certainly  belongs  the  chivalric  part  of  the 
victory.  The  late  SM'inton.  of  Swinton,  descendant  of  sir  John,  gave  the  spear 
which  nchieved  tliis  conquest  to  sir  Walter  Scott,  and  it  is  now  to  be  seen  aft 
Abloulord.  •Exceriita  Historica,  p.  87S. 


I 


I 


I 


k 


101  K  ATHBRi;«E  or    V A  LOIS. 

Henrr  was  so  superdnons  in  his  de^oiiona,  anil  bo  awni  b  nu;)prreinii| 
all  the  Balrricul  wrilin^  of  ihe  Lnllartls  aeainst  ihc  rlrr«y.  llut  the  It»> 
fumiers  gave  hini  ihe  Bobriquet  of  the  "prince  of  ihe  pri**!*."' 

The  oljjeel  of  ihe  kin^  Id  ihis  progress  was  lo  prepare  Ills  jiMfdefar 
the  exiraortlinary  supplier  he  meant  lo  request,  at  ihe  nuwiig  pari*- 
roenl.  For  this  purpose  he  harangueil  the  corpontjona  of  r»ny  tmni 
through  which  he  passed ;  and  showing  ihem  his  kit  queen  H  •  paaf 
of  (he  progress  he  had  made  in  the  ronquesl  of  France,  be  i  i|ilaiiwJ  la 
theni,  with  great  eloquence,  what  forces  anil  runds  h  wouM  Mke  to 
complete  il. 

Henry  proceeded  no  further  northward  than  the  ahrine  of  9l  JoIid  rf 
Beverley.  While  he  was  □flerinE['  to  thai  p"pular  saiui.  be  left  h»  qoeaa 
ai  the  royal  ca»tle  of  PontefracL,'  that  featful  TortreM  wbrr*  her  Mm 
Isabella's  first  husbsnii,  Richard  lU  had  met  with  hi?  Qiyeterioin  daA. 
and  where  tiial  sister's  second  husband,  and  her  own  cousin-gprrau,  lb 
poal  duke  of  Orleans,  was  then  enduring  a  strict  capiiviiv.  It  nuv  b 
inlerreil  that  queen  Kalherine  was  permitted  to  see  this  ttew  rebllTc,  W 
Henry  would  scarcely  have  taken  her  lo  liis  pluce  nf  abode.  Katfaeiiaf 
reiurned  to  Wesuninster  in  May,  14*21,  whtm  the  king  met  lui  f» 
lioinent 

Soon  aFler,  the  disastrous  news  arrived  of  ihe  defeat  and  death,  al  ika 
ialal  lield  of  Baiigy,  of  tliat  stainless  knight,  the  king's  beat  br^imj 
brother,  Thomas,  duke  of  Cbrt^nce.  Henty  had  not  iuietnliil  lo  lean 
England  till  after  the  biith  of  the  heir,  which  the  situation  of  his  vouaf 
queen  led  him  to  expect;  but  now,  burning  tn  avengv  Cbrenee,' b 
hurried  lo  France,  JuDe  ID,  leaving  his  Kalhi^rine  m  the  care  of  ibc  Jukt 
of  Bedford.  Me  laid  one  especial  command  on  his  wife  at  hia  {nnii^ 
which  was.  not  to  let  his  heir  be  bom  at  Windsor. 

Our  clironiclers  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  king  himself  hai!  eXHiiiMl 
the  aspect  of  the  planets,  nccoidiug  to  the  vain  rule*  of  art :  for  th*  n- 
pression  always  is,  »  that  he  prophesied*  the  calamities  uf  Httuj  Yl.' 
Now,  if  il  was  a  marvel  that  Saul  was  among  the  prophets,  it  woolil  b« 
one  still  greater  to  lind  our  gallant  Planutgeuet  king  assumirig  ibe  nv- 
phet's  mantle;  unless,  indenl,  dunng  his  education  at  Oxford,  he  ml. 
among  other  trash  then  considered  learning,  acquired  the  an  of  eastilf 
horoscopes.  Be  tilts  as  it  may.  Henry,  from  some  niysteriom  mMa. 
deemed  that  destiny  lowered  darkly  over  the  royal  lowers  of  WiudsM) 

■  Wliile  Kennct,  rrign  Henry  V.,  vol.  ii.  p.  163. 

■  Vfkiu  K^nnei.  ibkl.  In  ihs  ele«Bnl  ediiion  of  MansmBlet's  Chttinicks,  f^ 
lUhsl  by  Smith,  Fleet  SireeC,  1S40.  ttaere  is  a  bnuutifut  wooH-citl  pnrpotav  n 
be  ■  portrait  of  queen  Katherine,  copied  from  a  tculpiore  on  mu  aid  cal  ebol 
at  York.  The  6gaie  ot  lli»  qaeeo  ii  ooble  and  Eiaoerul.  tlie  sMtuoie  |vf0if 
acreeing  widi  the  uroet.  exccpling  the  ampHiU'le  tit  the  dmperiri.  Ifrd^^tt, 
ibe  Kulplure  is  a  itlio  or  this  progrfia,  anil,  if  il  K>Uld  be  pnivnil  to  V  svA 
Wmild  bo  deeply  iaieresiiug  lo  llie  auihoc  at  lliii  life, — Nol«  id  this  idid* 
«f  1IM4. 

A>  ihe  Sconiah  aimf  had  doTeated  Clareiinc,  ha  tiiiiiK  cierj  1 


KATHKRINK    OF    YALOIl.  105 

diiriiif  the  month  when  he  expected  Kttherine  to  bring  forth  her  Bnt^ 
Dorn.'  It  is  certain,  however,  that  Katherine  disobeyed  her  royal  lord, 
either  from  want  of  belief  in  astrology,  or  because  she  chose  that  her 
child  should  first  see  the  light  in  that  stately  fortress,  where  his  great 
Mid  fortunate  ancestor,  Edward  III.,  was  born. 

On  the  6th  of  December,  1421,  the  son  of  Katherine  came  into  a 
world  which  assuredly  proved  most  disastrous  to  him.  When  the  news 
wa«  brought  to  Henry  V.  that  Katherine  had  brought  him  an  heir,  he 
was  prosecuting  the  siege  of  Meaux.  He  eagerly  inquired  ^  wliere  the 
boy  was  bom  ?"  and  being  answered  *^  at  Windsor,"  the  king  repeated 
with  a  sigh  to  his  chamberlain,  lord  Fitzhugh,  the  following  oracular 
stave,  which  certainly  does  little  honour  to  his  talents  as  an  impromptu 
▼ersifier : — 

**  1,  Henry,  born  at  Monmoath, 
Shall  small  time  reign  and  much  get; 
But  Henry  of  Windsor  Miall  long  reign  and  lose  all. 
But  as  God  will,  so  be  it*'  * 

No  regular  English  dower  was  at  this  time  settled  on  Katherine,  bat 
it  is  evident  that  the  revenues  of  the  unfortunate  queen-dowager  were 
confiscated  for  her  use,  as  her  maids  were  paid  from  that  source.  Her 
damsels  were,  Joanna  Belknap*  Joanna  Troutberk^  and  Joanna  Courcy, 
besides  Agne«,  who  has  no  surname.  *^  These  ladies,"  says  Henry,  ^  the 
demoiselles  of  our  dear  companion,  are  to  receive  ten  licres  a-piece  oat 
of  the  funds  of  queen  Johane.^  Guillcmote,  damsel  of  the  bed-chamber 
to  his  said  dear  companion,  is  to  receive  one  hundred  shillings  from  the 
moneys  of  queen  Joanna."  Not  very  honest  of  the  valiant  Henry,  to 
pay  his  wife's  servants  with  another  person's  money. 

These  gifUi  are  declared  to  be  in  consideration  of  the  ^^  costages  and 
ejcpenscs  the  beloved  demoiselles  are  incurring,  by  following  Uie  said' 
drar  queen  and  companion  to  meet  me,  king  Henry,  in  France."  Like- 
wise an  annuity  of  twenty  livres*  per  annum  "  for  that  dear  doctor  of 
philosophy «  Maister  Johan  Boyers,  because  of  his  oflice  of  confessor  to 
queen  Katherine."  The  revenue  of  the  unfortunate  dowager  was  like- 
wise taxed,  for  the  maintenance  of  Katherine's  guest,  Jacqueline  of 
Hainauh,*  to  the  enormous  amount  of  a  hundred  pounds  per  month. 


*  Speed.     Stow.     Fabian.     Holingshed. 

>  Wbite  Kennet  TruMel's  Chronicle  of  Henry  V.,  vol.  i.  p.  336.  Most  of  the 
chroniclers  who  wrote  during  the  latter  part  of  Henry's  VI.'s  reign  to  Henry 
VII/s  era,  mention  this  singular  piece  of  court  gossip.  If  the  saying  was  indeed 
prevalent  from  the  coinmenccineiit  of  ihc  life  of  Henry  VI.,  it  must  have  fought 
more  fttally  against  the  Red  Ro:<c  than  an  army  M'ith  bnntierji.  It  is  well 
worthy  of  observation  bow  completely  tiiese  oracular  sayings  brought  their  own 
Ihlfllment  by  the  peculiar  bins  they  gave  to  the  minds  of  men ;  hope  was  raised 
on  one  »ide«  and  despair  induced  on  the  other,  and  thus  predictions  were  ful- 
fUled  by  natural  cauj<es. 

*  FcBdera,  p.  204,  vol.  x.  The  dce<l  is  in  Norman  French.  We  think  the  word 
**Uvrea*'  means  English  pounds  sterling.  ^Fcedcra,  vol.  x.  p.  134. 

*  This  princess  had  eloped  (Vom  a  bridegroom  whom  she  hated,  and  had  taken 
nfuge  at  the  court  of  Katherine,  with  whom  she  lived  on  great  terms  cf  isti 


KATIIERINE  OF 

SURNAMED   THE 

CONSORT  OF  H 


CHAPTER 


Qne*»n  Katlicrine  joins  lloiiry  V. — Her  cour 
Oripf  (»f  Uie  f]UPi»u — *^lio  prc-i'lo!*  over  tl 
Arrives  in  Kni^laml — Is  iit  th»»  «'xpiMis<»  o 
AMm'V — Qii»»en  ami  hrr  iiifrit  son  (Hi»nry  ^ 
ln|i — Ifer  Iy>n<liiTi  rosideiire — Last  piihiic  r 
— Kallii»riiie  retiros  iVorn  j»nl)li«*  lilt* — Attao 
b«'r«»rf  ln»r — IiitnHl!j<»tioii  of  his  kinsmen- 
Birth  of  »e<'on<l   fH.Miilv — iKrath  at'  hl^r  mot 

• 

fl^iiiMient — I nn»*ss — IVniienre — Present  fro 
Poaih — Rurial — Oriirinnl  epitaph — Pi*rseci 
Dealli  of  (>wi»n  Tmlor— Gniml'Min  of  Kath 
— Katharine's  brv!y  exhumed — Made  a  6p« 
kisses  her  remains ^Re-interred. 

QiTERN  Katherine  CFossed  the  sea, 
2l8t  of  Mrv,  142*2,  e^<corte(l  bv  the  dul 


KATtlERIXE    OF    VALHIS.  107 

flhn  mortal.     She  had  left  her  lilile  inrnnl  in  Eiiglaml,  under  (he  care 
of  its  iititli?,  ilie  iluke  of  Gloucester' 

Grpal  rejoicinais  were  made  al  Paris  for  the  arrival  of  ihe  i|iieen  of 
England,  and  the  binh  of  llie  heir  of  Henry.  The  royal  parly  left  Vin- 
cennes,*  and  eiilere<l  Faria  in  great  ma^ni^cence,  that  day  being  Whil- 
■iin  eve.  May  3fllh.  Queen  Katherine,  ivith  her  train,  were  lixlged  at 
the  Louvre,  while  her  mother  and  king  Charles  took  up  their  abode  at 
Uie  Hotel  de  St.  PnuL  '>And  on  Whit  Sunday  queen  Kaiherine  sat  at 
table  at  the  Louvre,  gloriously  apparelled,  having  her  crown  on  her 
bead.  The  English  princes  and  nobles  were  partakers  (vith  the  great 
lords  of  France  al  this  feast,  each  sealed  according  to  his  rank,  while 
the  tables  were  covered  with  the  richest  viands  and  wines.  Queen  Ku- 
ilierine  next  day  held  a  ^real  eoiiri,  ajid  all  the  Parisians  went  to  see 
llieir  princess,  and  her  lord  silting  enthroned,  crowned  with  their  moat 
precious  diadems ;  but,"  cuiiiinues  Monstrelet,  -■  as  no  meat  or  drink 
was  otibred  to  the  populace,  they  weni  away  much  discontented.  For 
when,  of  old,  the  kings  of  France  kept  open  court,  much  good  cheer 
WB»  freely  given  to  all  comers.  King  Charles  V!,  had  once  been  as 
conrleous  and  liberal  as  any  of  his  pretlecessors  -,  hut  now  he  was  seated 
al  a  lahle  with  his  queen,  quite  forsaken  by  his  nobles,  who  all  flocked 
to  pay  their  court  to  his  daughter  and  her  husband,  at  which  ihe  com- 
mon people  grieved  tiiuch."  Kalherine  likewise  gave  great  offence  by 
having  the  frmmes  carried  before  her  coach,  as  if  she  bad  been  the  sove- 
reign of  France.' 

'i'he  last  year''s  harassing  warfare  had  greatly  injured  the  constitution 
of  Henry  V.  He  was  ill  when  his  queen  arrived,  but  he  paid  no  regard 
to  Ills  foiling  health — he  scarcely  allowed  himself  a  day's  repose. 

But  conquest,  empire,  and  all  worldly  things,  were  fast  fleeting  IVont 
ilic  gmsp  of  ihe  warlike  lord  of  Katherine  the  Fair.  At  Senlis  he  wtE 
Kixcd  with  a  mortal  distemper.  He  stru^led  fiercely  against  its  en- 
croorhments,  for  he  daily  expected  to  hear  of  a  haiile  between  his 
&iend,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  and  the  dauphin,  and  hoped  to  assist  his 
tlly  in  peisoii.  He  had  even  assinned  his  armour,  and  marched  as  far 
U  Melun  ;  bill  the  strong  hand  of  disease  was  too  powerful  even  for  the 
energies  of  his  mighty  mind.  Sorely  smitten  with  illness,  he  wa» 
obliged  to  give  up  his  march  ;  and,  the  malady  increasing  every  minute, 
he  was  forced  to  be  carried  hack  to  Senlis  in  a  litter.  He  had  tefi  his 
[|ueen  nt  Senlia,  but  for  greater  security  she  had  retired  to  her  father's 
Gastle  in  the  wood  of  Vineennes;  thiliier  the  "  niighiy  victor,  mighty 
loni."  was  carrie<l  to  her,  helpless,  on  that  liner  which  was  almost  a  (a- 
aeikl  couch  to  him. 

In  the  castle  of  Vinrennes,  near  Paris,  which  has  so  often  been  the 
Llieatre  of  the  destinies  of  France,  Katherine  and  her  mother  siiendad 
bhe  bsi  hours  of  Henry  V.' 


•Gomlwin.     Il  is  ilifllcnU  10  goeM  what  \hn  rrni 
ouiiiiioeJ  ilui  tiivy  weni  hi.1i  lliKir;  ui  ilic  Ituis 


I 

i 

'MnnalreloL  ^^H 

t  iRiplied.  ^^^1 

IiPt   tnntKcT  win  b«      ^^| 


I 


■MB  KATHXXIXK    OF     VALOIS.  I 

I      Hb  mad*  a  very  pcniteniial  end.  but  wai  to  liule  eonseioiH  cf  bo    I 
i^ood-^iUiness,  tlinl  wlieo  Ins  cunfessor  was  m<liag  the  Brian  PmIim    I 
rjn  the  Bcrvice  fur  tlic  ilyinji,  he  irtupjieii  him  when  he  came  lo  i\it  vent.    I 
I  *Boilii  tlmu  iJic  wnlU  uf  Jerusalem,"'  with  «nearnB»lpruli-9lnii>'», -iliU     | 
I  when  hu  hail  cuiiipletvil  liU  cmiqucsu  ia  £ur»|>c.  he  al»'ii>  - 
I  jHmlrrUike  a  (^ru<miii'."      When  he  hiul  armngral  hia  albirs.  I' 
1    Bliy»iciaiiB  "  how  long  he  hail   lo  live  r"     One  of  ihwn  i'  | 
[  t>ec«.  "UlAl,  wilhnut  a  niicnclr,  he  touJd   not  survive  tw<  i   I. 
1  moeC*  ; 

I  "  Ccrorurt  my  dear  wir«,"  he  said  lo  ihe  duke  o(  Bedfonl.  ^  ihe  iBml 
I  aAIicl«d  creaiura  living."'  In  a  will  he  inade  on  his  death-brd,  bt 
I  IravuB  Kaiheriue  a  guld  vcepire.  He  expirod  on  the  3l>t  <if  Aogwti 
f    14W. 

Uenry  was  a  learned  prince,  but  lie  had  ihe  bad  hahti  of  borroiriit 
I  h  ">kH  and  never  rciurtiing  lliera.  AAer  lii«  death  a  peiition  wan  *cni  lo 
lite  rr^ncy  by  the  lady  Westmoreland,  his  relaUVf,  praying  that  l»r 
*■  Chronicles  of  JeruMlern,"  and  the  •■  Rtpedilion  uf  tiodfrey  uT  BoO' 
logne,"  burrowed  of  her  by  the  laie  kiiii;,  might  be  returned.  Thf 
prior  of  CliriBithurvh.  likewise,  sent  in  a  moat  pitiful  euniplninl,  thai  hi 
bad  lent  the  works  of  St.  Gregory  lo  his  ilear  lord,  lujig  Henry,  wfco 
lud  never  restored  them  to  him,  tlirir  rightful  ownpr. 

Ill  persiiii  lUnry  V,  wu  (all  and  Bi{ile,  and  ao  swil^  of  !<»(•  thit  bt 
I  could,  wiih  the  aid  of  two  of  hia  lords,  capture  deer  in  the  Tt>>-al  m- 
I  closures,  without  the  assistance  of  dogs.  Ilia  porltaits  poaoesa  iltai  di*- 
I  linclive  character  which  proves  peraooal  reaemblance ;  bis  Itnlurcfe  an 
'  n^ular,  though  very  strongly  marked ;  Uie  perceptive  brow  denotes  ibc 
greal  gcncml ;  the  eyes  are  majestic  and  overpowering  j  the  nove  vrll 
cut,  but  eiern  in  the  expression  of  ihe  noairil;  ttio  mouth  wide,  twi 
cloieJy  presaed,  oiiil  the  haughty  upper  lip  curls  wiili  no  very  benevo- 
lent expression.  There  is  a  great  developumcnt  of  frontal  bcain  in  hit 
|)oriraiIs :  ihey  ore  oil  proltlas,  excepting  ihai  over  ihe  chaniry  at  Woi- 
(uinaier  Abbey,  whicli  liaa  a  wen  on  the  right  side  of  the  neck. 

At  the  lime  of  Henry's  deaili,  his  fair  wiJow  had  not  atiaintd  ha 
Iweniy-firsl  year.  Her  nOi-ctJon  was,  as  ilio  dying  hero  observul  Xo  hit 
brother,  must  violent,  bul  it  certainly  proved  in  the  end  radier  evann- 
cent 

The  funeral  of  Henry  V.  was  arranged  and  conducted  by  queen  %»■ 
theriue,  with  all  the  pomp  of  woe.'  ■■  His  body  was  laiij  on  a  chartnl 
drawn  hy  foor  great  horses.  Jusl  above  ilie  dead  corpse  dtey  plarMi  i 
£gure  niad«  of  boiled  leather,  pn»eniing  his  person  as  nigh  as  miglil 
be  devised,  painted  curiously  to  the  geiiibJance  of  n  living  eroaiur*.  uo 
whose  bead  wu  put  an  imperial  diadem  of  gold  and  precious  slnnes; 


briiiRi  Her 


iro  at  Spniis,  atiH  Blfimis  bM  mniher  VM  wSUi 

It  the  palnce  near  IHuis,  inofl  luad  as  a  tmHi 

likHly  he  woiilil  lesvo  liiK  tvilp  at  iIif  («ni|il 

<n  o[  iCaUi.>-rin«  lo  hii  bmlliBr,  a<i>l  Kstlipti* 

D  the  fUuotsl  ritea  of  Im  d 

•Stow. 


XATtiERI^E    OP    TALOIS.  109 

(m  ibi  hcxly.  a  piirplr  rfiF>r  fntrn)  wiih  prniinr;  in  ibe  li^bi  Iiand,  ■ 
KTpin'  roval ;  in  ihe  left,  an  orb  of  ffold,  with  a  cross  fixcil  tliereoiii 
An<l.  ilins  ndomed,  waa  litis  figure  Uij  in  a  bet)  on  ihe  saire  charioU 
-Mth  itie  vt«af[e  unro*ere<I  townrds  ihe  hearens;  and  the  covertore  of 
:>.i->  hnl  H'ii»  of  red,  bcaUm  with  giilil;  and  besides,  when  the  bo<tT 
■^ijiiU  paBB  ihruugh  anv  good  lown,  a  canopy  of  marrellotit  valae  wb«* 
lorne  over  ii,  by  men  vl  grwit  worship.  In  this  maimer  he  was  Bcrom— 
pniiied  by  the  king  of  Scott,  as  chief  mmirner,'  and  by  all  ihp  princpr,, 
ionls,  anil  hnights  of  his  house,  in  rrstures  of  deep  mourriii-t;.  Al  ft. 
diitanro  from  the  corpse  of  nbont  two  English  miles,  folKntfd  iho 
widow,  qiiccn  Katherine,  ri^ht  honourably  aiTompaniei^.  Tile  body ' 
rr^trd  at  ilie  church  o(  St.  OlFian,  in  Abbeville,  where  masses  were  sung* 
by  the  queen's  order*,  for  the  repose  of  Henry's  soul,  from  ihe  dawn  of 
Bioniirig  till  the  close  of  night.  The  procession  moTeil  through  Abb*- 
tilte  with  increased  pomp.  The  duke  of  Exeter,  the  earl  of  March*  sir 
Loois  Robsart,  the  queen's  knighu  and  many  nobles,  >>ore  the  banners 
of  the  mints.  The  hatchments  were  carried  by  t«el»e  renowned  Mp« 
Bins  ;  and  around  the  bier-car  rode  four  hnndreil  men-at-arms  in  black 
_  ■nnotir,  their  horses  barbed  black,  their  lances  held  with  the  poinM 
H^pwnwards.  A  great  company  clothed  in  white,  bearing  wnx-iorchc^ 
HB|kteti,  encompassed  the  procession.  The  qtieen,  with  a  nn^tv  reti- 
^KlSet  came  after  al  a  mile's  distance.^  Thus  she  passed,  keeping  her  hu»i 
'  Wnd'a  corpse  in  view,  through  Hesdin,  Monircnil,  and  Boiilngiie,  till 
they  came  to  Calais,  where,  on  the  I2lh  of  October,  the  privy  couneS 
had  ordered  Tessels  to  meet  the  qneen,  with  ladies  to  attend  her.* 

When  the  queen,  aAer  landing  at  Dover  with  the  royal  corpse,  ap- 
nra«chrd  London,  she  was  met  by  tiAeen  bishops  in  their  poniilicBl 
ksbits.  anil  by  many  abbots  in  their  mitres  and  vestments,  with  a  vast 
erowd  iif  priests  and  people.  The  priests  ehanled  all  the  way  from 
Blackheaih,  and  through  the  streets  of  the  city,  hymns  for  their  dea<l 
king.  A  general  and  picturesque  illumination  was  elTccinl,  by  each 
houneholder  standing  at  his  door  with  a  torch  in  his  hand.  The  prince* 
of  tlie  royal  family  rode  in  moumAil  postures  neit  the  funeral  car.  Tha 
grief  of  the  young  qneen  ^really  edilied  the  people,  and  they  were  still 
■lore  impressed  by  the  barbarian  magnilicence  uf  the  tomb  she  mised  to 
Uie  memory  of  their  loyal  hero ;  on  which  a  Latin  inscription  exprcvMd 
'that  it  waa  raised  by  his  queen, Katherine.'*  The  famous  nilver-plaled 
itue,  with  the  head  of  solid  silver  gilt,  was  placed  on  the  tomb  <tf 
^  F»ry  V.  nt  the  expense  of  his  widow^ 

f  Directly  after  the  obsequies  of  her  husband,  Katherine  reiirrd  to  WiniW 

r  Castle,*  to  enibr«ee  her  babe,  and  pass  ihe  first  weeks  of  her  widow- 

U«r  little  child  waa  eight  months  old,  on  the  day  of  his  warlike 


I 


I 


l*G<Mdwln'i  Llfoof  Hi 
™  of  Privy  Cot 
n  of  Sp<-»il,  Itisl 
1>  maile  ibt 
f  or  thi 

I.  (icvpiing  that  all  □< 

isuw. 
VOL.  111. — 10 


,  vol.  III.  p.  a.   Them  dncumend  larUIr  rimflim  iha 

inle  king  Hpniy  VI.  »-iu  l»ft  In  Erglinil ;  toj  da 

wpinicin,  nor  it  the  rofnl  inftnl  eien  Ririiii'>n«l 

reiing  hi*  ilnd  laibi-r  uid   moiiiniiiK  tnoAir 


I 


I 


110  E  ATIIBRtNB    op    VALOIS. 

blhtu'*  dmlh.  Wlicn  llir  pailianiGnt  tn^  she  reiDOTed  to  I^taduiuW 
jtameA  llinmali  tlie  rilv.  on  r  in'iririe  llirnne  ilrnwn  bv  whiw  liurso. 
(Uul  «i.fri.mi.lM  by  ill  ihe  prm.«  ami  i.ol.les  ,.1"  EngUiiii.  Thr  lu&iu 
kine  wu  )<ni«il  uii  Iter  kp,  "ami  iIi<m«  preiiy  liaitds,"  ^>'b  o"e  o(  our 
qtuutit  rhrvniclcra.  "  wbicli  c^ultl  nut  yet  feud  liiniself,  wen;  mait  np- 
ble  a(  wioldiiig  ■  drtpirr ;  and  he,  who  was  bebnIOen  to  Bnr<p«  (at  null[< 
did  distribuw  Buoteiiaiiiw  in  the  Inw  iind  justice  of  h if  nation.  'I*he  qoeai. 
with  her  infiini  on  her  knee,  wu  rntlininKl  Miioiig  ihe  Ionia.  \'lum.  bt 
Uie  rliiinc<-Llar,  the  iiitic  king  nlulcd.  and  spoke  to  them  at  laret  bi'i 
piind,  b)'  mMiis  of  ujioiher's  tuiigue/'  The  kine  ciinducipd  hinufir 
with  extiBonJinarv  qiiiirtness  and  grafity,  eoiisiJenng  ho  had  not  re 
attained  tlie  n^  of  twelve  uioniha. 

Henry  did  not  always  b«buve  au  orderly,  aa  lliat  curious  annaL  ihf 
iMuduu  Cbroni<lc,  thus  bears  grave  testimony  :' — "Thia  ynr  i^llSSX 
upon  Saturday,  the  I3ih  of  November,  the  king  and  his  mother  retoofnl 
from  Windsor  to  hold  a  parliament  in  London.  At  night,  the  king  ind 
his  mother,  the  queen,  lodged  at  Stnities,  sjiil  upon  the  morrow,  bein| 
Sunday,  the  king  being  borne  towards  bis  mother's  car,  he  skreelinl,  ht 
tried,  lie  epnirig,  and  itouM  be  earritHl  no  furllier ;  wherrfore  they  but 
him  again  to  the  ion,  and  there  h«  af)ode  the  Suriilay  all  day." 

The  chronicler  certainly  inean«  to  insinuate  that  all  (his  violence  wu 
becsuM  llio  roytii  babe,  by  a  Jioly  iitstincti  would  not  hreak  ihe  Sabbub 
by  tmvelling,  and  therefore  made  this  notable  resistance,  by  shrifkio; 
Bnd  kicking,  when  he  was  carried  to  his  mother's  car.  In  all  proba- 
bility he  hul  been  well  amused  at  the  inn  at  Staines,  and  diJ  not  wiih  to 
leave  it 

''On  the  Monday,"  continues  the  chronicler  of  London,  "he  Vf 
borne  to  bis  mother's  cor  or  cliair,  he  being  then  gUd  ami  roerrv  o( 
cheer,  and  so  they  came  to  Kingston,  and  ccsKii  that  niijhL  On  the 
TuRsday  queen  Katherine  broiigUi  hira  to  Keuiilt^ton.  On  WedneedaT 
he  came  lo  London,  and  with  glad  semblance  and  merry  cheer  on  his 
mother's  banii*  (lap)  in  the  car,  rode  through  Ixiniton  to  WentiniucKt. 
and  on  the  morrow  was  so  brought  into  pailiiuneni." 

Kalherine  leJl  Westminster  with  her  infant,  and  retired  lo  WaJtham 
Palace,  November  ^6th.  and  from  thence  to  llerlford,  whore  she  kfpl 
her  Christmas  with  her  friend,  Jsmes  I.  of  Scoitaud,'  whom  she  had  lit* 
pteaauie  of  seeing  united,  at  St.  Mary's,  Suutbwark,  soun  after.  Id  the 
lady  he  jiaaBiunaiely  loved,  anil  whose  liappiness  she  liad  kmdly  pro- 
moted. 

Kaiherine's  dower  was  not  settled  by  Act  of  Partiameni  nntil  the  w 
cond  year  of  her  infant's  reign.  She  appears  to  have  been  pm  in  po»- 
aession  of  oil  the  ancient  dower  palaces  belonging  to  the  qneena  of  Eo^ 
bind,  Willi  the  exception  of  Havering  Bower  and  Lingley,  where  residffl 
llie  quecn^lo wager,  widow  lo  Henry  IV. 

» In  the  third  year  of  the  reign  of  Henry  VI.  was  granted  to  hb  deami 


^^u        ■Chnui 
^^Bpnnedb 


Chnuiolet  of  LoiuloD,  p.  Ill  (<lale  H23). 

n  is  an  ■mH-rm  word  NCuiyinB  l»p.     An  apfoii   ii   by  run  <• 
UuntcUjilL.  'Cliron.  of  lioailbii,  llv  ki 


KATHBRINB    OF    VALOI8.  Ill 

mother  Katherine,  all  that  inn  or  hospitinm  in  the  city  of  London,  where 
his  dear  cousin  the  earl  of  March,  lately  deceased,  used  to  reside ;  and 
that  she  may  have  possession  of  it  during  the  minority  of  his  dear  con- 
tin,  Richard  duke  of  York,  on  condition  that  she  keeps  in  ^ood  repair 
•11  the  buildings  and  gardens,  and  is  at  all  charges  concerning  them." 
There  is  reason  to  suppose  that  this  was  BaynanPs  Cattle. 

This  year,  Katherine,*  and  her  mother,  Isabeau  of  Bavaria,  were  en- 
treated on  the  part  of  England  and  France  to  act  as  mediatrices  between 
Humphrey  duke  of  Gloucester  and  Philip  duke  of  Burgundy,  who  had 
challenged  each  other  to  mortal  combat.  Duke  Humphrey  insisted  on 
retaining,  as  his  wife,  Jacqueline  the  heiress  of  Holland,  who  had  for- 
merly thrown  herself  on  Katherine's  protection.  Katherine,  being  the 
intimate  friend  of  all  the  parties,  succeeded  in  preventing  the  duel' 

Two  days  before  the  opening  of  parliament  in  14'i5,  Katherine  en- 
tered the  city  in  a  chair  of  state,  with  her  child  sitting  on  her  knee. 
When  thev  arrived  at  the  west  door  of  St.  PauPs  Cathedral,  the  duke- 
protector  lifted  the  infant  king  from  his  chair  and  set  him  on  his  feet, 
and  then,  with  the  duke  of  Exeter,  led  him  between  them,  up  the  stairs 
ffoing  into  the  choir;  from  whence  the  royal  infant  was  cariied  to  the 
high  altar,  where  he  kneeled  for  a  time,  a  traverse  having  been  prepared 
lor  him.  It  is  expressly  said,  ^^  that  he  looked  gravely  and  sadly  about 
him.^'  And  then  he  was  borne  into  the  churchyard,  and  there  set  upon 
a  &ir  courser,  to  the  infinite  delight  of  the  people,  and  so  conveyed, 
through  Cheapside  to  St.  George's  Bar,  to  his  own  manor  of  Kenning- 
ton.  At  Kennington  Palace,  Katherine  and  her  royul  son  reposed  till 
the  30th  of  April,  when  they  set  out  on  a  grand  procession  through  the 
city  to  Westminster  Palace.  The  little  king  was  held  on  a  great  white 
horse,  and  the  people  flocked  in  multitudes  to  see  him,  declaring  lie  had 
the  features  of  his  father,  and  loading  him  with  blessings.  Being  come 
to  the  palace,  Katherine  seated  herself  on  the  throne  iu  the  white-hall, 
where  the  house  of  lords  was  held,  with  the  infant  sovereign  on  her 
lap.* 

Oor  warlike  barons  were  not  a  little  embarrassed  bv  the  mutations  of 
this  world,  which  had  snatched  from  them  a  leader  of  singular  energies, 
both  as  monarch  and  warrior,  and,  placing  a  little  babe  at  their  head,  made 
them  directors  of  a  nursery.  The  chivalric  earl  of  Warwick  had  the 
irdianship  of  the  king's  person  at  a  very  early  age ;  a  fact  illustrated 
a  beautiful  contemporary  drawing  in  the  pictorial  history  of  the  earl.* 
[e  is  represented  holding  the  king,  a  most  lovely  infant  of  fourteen 
months  ohi,  in  his  arms,  while  he  is  showing  him  to  the  peers  in  par- 
liament. One  of  the  lords  is  presenting  the  infant  monarch  with  the 
orb.  The  royal  babe  is  curiously  surveying  it,  and,  with  an  arch  look, 
gently  placing  one  dimpled  hand  upon  the  symbol  of  sovereignty,  seeois 
doubtful  whether  it  is  to  be  treated  with  reverence,  or  chucked,  like  a 

*  Monstrelct. 

*The  king's  moder  and  his  amdt  are  enu^ated  by  the  English  parliament  to 
^flfect  a  peace. — Parliamenuiry  History,  toI.  ii.  p.  197. 

*  Parliamentary  History,  101,  and  Holingshed. 

*  ^'ee  the  pre(*^ing  memoir.    Beauchamp  Pictorial  Gironicle, 


vemesi<,  daint*  Alice  l^ntrler,  and  liu  nur 
of  him  in  his  htnirs  of  rctireiiu'iiL 

In  n  vrrv  luiivelv  woriU'd  dorumonU 
the  kinif  wt^ru  giving  liis  tliroctioiis  to 
dmme  Alice  '*  from  lime  \o  time  reason 
may  require,  without  heiog  iielii  accoun 
at  any  future  time.    The  well-beloved 
and  expert  person)  \b  to  teach  us  courtei 
and  many  things  convenient  for  our  roy 

After  these  arrangements  were  ciicc 
behind  a  cloud  so  mysterious,  tluit  for  t 
no  public  document  which  tells  of  her 
forced  to  wander  in  search  of  panic u Ian 
regions  of  tradition  and  private  anecdoU 

Deep  obscurity  hangs  over  the  birth  { 
husband,  Owen  Tudor.  Some  historiani 
was  a  brewer  at  Beaumaris.'  Never th 
fuince  of  North  Wales,  called  Theodon 
to  the  Saxon  tongue,  was  corrupted  intc 
•ound  of  'I'idder.  There  is  an  ancient  1 
called  Glengauny,  still  pointed  out  as 
and  the  Welsh  say  that  he  possessed  t' 
three  thousand  pounds  per  annum.  Bu 
means  consistent  with  the  assertion  of 
naot,  who  has  proved  that  Meredith,  the 
•on  of  a  younger  son,  of  the  line  of  Tu 
office  than  that  of  tcutifcr^  or  sbield-1 


KATIIKRINE    OF    VALOIH.  1 1)  f 

tml,  being  oiiOawed,  lleil  wJili  his  wife  to  ilie  faBinesses  of  SiiowiJon 
wliiTi^  Owen  Glendower  upheld  ttie  banner  of  deliance^  against  (lie  IiijUM 
of  Lancaster.  If  young  Owen  were  nol  born  in  this  slronghuUt  of  frL-e- 
(lom.  he  waa  probsbly  baptixeJ  there :  for  a  tnuliiion  declarex,  that  ha 
wa»  godson  to  the  great  ctiief,  Glendower.  He  was  thus  brought  up 
froin  his  cradle  a«  b  hardy,  predatory  soldier. 

The  next  fact  regarding  Owen,  is,  that  he  certainly  belonged  to  th* 

brmve  Welsh  band  with  whom  Henry  V.  most  prudently  entered   into 

■tnicable  terms,  on  the  death  of  the  warlike  Glendower.     These  hardy 

warriors,  it  is  well  known,  under  the  command  of  Dary  the  One-nyed,' 

did  good  service  at  Agincourt.     Tradition  says  that  young  Owen  Tudor 

aided  his  countrymen  in  repelling  ihe  fiery  charge  of  Alenqon,  aiid  thai 

Henry  V.  made  him,  for  his  bravery,  one  of  the  squires  of  his  body;* 

hence  his  title  of  armiger.'     There  is  great  reason  to  suppose,  that  tha 

bniv«  and  hsiidsonie  Owen  fought  only  as  a  comniun  soldier  in  the 

Walsh  band.     But  when  once  he  had  received  the  preferment  uf  Mjuira 

of  the  body  to  Henry  V.,  he  certainly  continued  the  same  olfiee  about 

lh«  person  of  the  infant  king,  and  hence  his  acquaintance  with  tha 

qnaen-m  other. 

^^  In  (his  station  Owen  Tudor  is  next  found  keeping  guard  on  (he  infant 

HB^U  and  his  mother,  at  Windsor  Caslle,  and  very  soon  after  the  death 

^^y  Henry  V.  it  appears  the  handsome  Welsh  soldier  attracted  the  ntten- 

^Bmi  of  the  royal  widow  of  England.     Owen  did  nol  ceitaiidy  possess 

^■■n  pounds  per  annum  at  this  tmie :  if  he  had,  he  must  have  taken  up 

^Bia  knighthood. 

H^  While  Owen  was  on  guard  ai  Windsor,  on  some  festival,  he  was  re- 
Bj^njred  to  dance'  before  the  queen ;  and,  making  too  elaborate  a  piroi^ 
eiW}  he  was  not  able  to  recover  his  balance,  but  fell  into  the  queen'a 
lap,  aa  she  sat  upon  a  low  seaU'  with  all  her  ladies  about  her.  Th* 
qiMten's  manner  of  excusing  this  awkwardneiis  gave  her  ladies  the  first 
aaspicion  that  site  was  uoi  entirely  insensible  to  the  attractions  uf  the 
brave  Welshman.  As  her  passion  increased,  and  she  indulged  herself 
in  greater  intimacy  with  the  object  of  it,  those  of  her  ladies,  who  could 
uka  the  liberty,  remonsiraied  with  the  queen,  and  represented  "  how 
'  'Vnch  she  lowered  herself  by  paying  any  attention  to  a  person,  who^ 
wagh  possessing  some  personal  areomplishmenls  and  ndvanlages,  had 
p  princely,  nor  even  genUe  alliances,  but  belonged  to  a  barbarous  clan 
f  aavagei,  n-ckoned  inferior  to  the  lowest  English  yeomen.''  Upon 
'ich  the  queen  declared,  "^  that  being  a  Frenchwoman,  she  hod  DM 
b  aware  that  there  was  any  diderence  of  race  in  the  British  island." 
lerwards,  communicating  these  strictures  to  her  lover,  he  held  forth 
f  eloquently  concerning  his  high-born  kin  and  princely  descent,  and 

'  Darj  Gam.  broihor-in-law  to  Olojidower. 

'Slow  a  Aiiiials.  TIicm  Kjuirea  uT  ilifl  hoclf  Kiintded  dia  pama  of  iha  tjrt 
r*i|tn;  Oipir  wn  probabljr  ihv  origin  of  ilii>  ganik<nen«(-iimi*.  $«vvral  of  Iha 
Wct*b  Imn.l  or  Gain  wi-rr  iliut  promoli-d. 

■Owfn  ■>  nntitlvJ  similar,  or  iti[uir;,  in  tlie  t'nHlera,  but  iieter  knigUl. 

'Stow'i  Antmb. 

'llii*  low  ml  iiHlimtda  Uial  tbe  inftnl  Utaij  v/m  in  prHMiM. 
^  !«•  It 


I 


I 
I 


wh*!  holy  place  lli(<ir  linnds  were  untied 
■nd  iimnge  it  iit,  thai  llt^niy  Vll^  with  i 
dnct^ul.  ihuuld  not  hare  1«^  suine  uilim 
iliB  marriniKF  of  Ratheiine  nod  Owen.  J 
■Mert  conlideniiy  ibni  ilio  nwrria^  ai 
Tuilor  wan  at  Irast  taridy  icknowlfxlpid 
reign.  Alodrm  htsloriaos  iiapliciily  ful 
■Imdow  of  .ckiiowbdgmenl  o(  ih<;  nvxn 
her  son's  rrifii  Boiue  auapiciuns  aroas 
llumphrfv  uf  tiloticMter.  thai  ilio  i)ueea 
unaiiiuble  aUiance,  and  ■  aevere  ataluu 
thfi  licnvimt  ppDoltieB,  ''any  one  who  9 
downer,  or  any  lady  who  hpid  laiitls  of 
of  llii!  king  unil  liis  council.'"  i 

Ii  i>  tisunlly  affirmed  ^  iliat  the  re^nn 
wai  miirrinl  when  lliia  law  waa  cnacind.'j 
be  the  coat,  bul  ihty  had  not  assuredn 
attach m eni ;  ulherwise  wuuld  ihey  liave 
innwii)  of  Kailierine*s  household,  till  at  I 
of  her  life? — a  (an  incoiiteatably  proM 
Counril,'  He  was  clerk  of  b«r  wardron 
a  grrat  biMoncal  sntiqunry. 

SiMin  afWr  lb«  prohibitory  suiute  <nJ 
iictioii  ai^inst  (he  bishop  of  Carluke,  N 
dowdr  liindEi.  Her  cause  was  carried  onl 
fli^hiME  ellusion  to  any  s«cond  huebandJ 


^^V  KATHERINE    Or    TALDIS.  Itfl^H 

^^^■An  office  like  that  borne  br  Owen  Tudor  ^vas  peculiiirly  Ifahle  tt  ^| 
^^Hbmnte  pernonaJ  acquainlance  between  Ibe  queen  and  iiiin :  as  clerk  o^  ^M 
^^V«  wanirobe,  it  was  Owen's  offire  nol  only  lo  guard  the  queen's  jew^  ^| 
'  fhrai  robbery,  but  to  pay  Tor,  if  not  purchase,  alt  maieriaU  for  her  dre«tf'  ^| 
Many  serious  consultation*  might  have  taken  place  on  occaiton  oreTa'l''^H 
new  purchase  or  paymenl.as  to  the  colours  and  style  mosl  becoming ttf'^l 

ltlf>  mVAl  bjuilllV.  Anil    romnlimenra    mioht    hut    itmiTif^il  urhirK    lli^    Inuilir        ^^ 


ihe  royal  beauty,  and  complimenls  might  be  implictl  which  the  lowly 
lover  could  have  no  other  opportunity  of  expressing. 

The  only  notice  that  occurs  of  Kaihenne  from  the  third  i-ear  of  her 
tnftni'a  reign,  till  \43a,  is,  ihal  her  son.  (hen  in  his  seventh  year,  by  iJie 
advice  of  his  governess,  Alice  Boteler,  presented  his  mother,  for  a  New- 
year^  gin,  with  the  ruby  ring  given  him  by  hia  uncle,  the  duke  of  Bed- 

Katherine'a  life  of  reiirenienl  enabled  her  to  conceal  her  marriage  for 
amy  years,  and  to  give  birth,  without  any  very  notorious  scandal,  lo 
three  Rr>m  succeKsively-  The  eldest  was  bom  at  the  royal  mnnnr-hniise 
ef  Hadham ;  from  the  place  of  his  hirlh  he  is  called  Eilmunil  of  Had- 
Iwni.  The  second  was  Jasper  of  Hatfield,  from  another  of  the  royal 
lendences.  The  third,  Owen,  first  saw  the  light  ai  some  iitconvenient 
season,  when  Kalherine  was  forced  to  appear  at  the  royal  palace  of 
Wesiminsier.  The  babe  was  carried  at  once  into  the  monastery,  wherf 
tui  was  reared,  and  afterwards  professed  a  monk. 

While  Katherine  was  devoting  herself  to  conjugal  aflcction  and  ma- 
ternal duties,  performed  by  stealth,  her  royal  son  was  crowneil,  in  his 
eighth  year,  king  of  F.ngtand,  at  Weslntinster,  with  great  pomp,  in  which 
his  mother  took  no  share.  The  next  year  he  crossed  the  sea,  in  order 
la  be  crowned  at  Paris.  It  is  natural  to  suppose  that  queen  Katherine 
Bccooipanit^d  her  son,  and  supported  his  claims  on  her  native  crown,  by 
ber  personal  inllnence  ;  but  no  traces  are  to  be  found  of  her  presence. 

Her  mother  was  alive  in  Paris,  full  of  years,  and,  it  must  be  added,  of 
diahonours.  The  English  princes  and  lords  did  not  condescend  lo  in- 
troduce their  little  king  lo  the  degraded  woman,  and  the  maternal  granAt* 
mother  of  Henry  VI.  became  first  known  to  the  son  of  her  daughter,  by  ■ 
kissing  her  hand'  and  making  a  reverential  courtesy  lo  him  at  a  eroilttt 
(window)  of  the  HAtel  de  St.  Pol ;  after  which  it  was  not  considered^ 
decent  lo  forbid  the  young  king's  request  lo  visit  her,  and  an  inti'rvtei^ 
took  place  between  queen  Isabeau  and  her  grandson. 

Ttnic  wore  on.  and  one  disaster  to  the  English  in  France  followed 
■notber.  They  evacuated  Paris  just  three  days  before  the  wicked  queeo 
Isabeau  died.  There  was  scarcely  a  person  found  to  bury  this  ones 
powerful  princess.  Katherine,  though  in  the  prime  of  life,  being  bnl 
tkirty-Hre,  survived  her  wretched  mother  only  one  year. 

A  strong  suspicion  of  the  queen's  connexion  with  Tudor  seems  lo 
have  bean  first  excited  in  the  minds  of  Henry  V.'s  guardians,  towards  ths 

'Tlie  cImIu  of  the  wardrobe  bouRht  jeweli  and  aloth  of  golil  liit  thi 
m  pHncT-iu*.     Sen  Riclmtil  ClilTonl's  pareha*-!  fnj  ilie  lad]r  Philipjia.  ilaughl 
■r  Hmiy  1V„  when  sba  nratned  Eiie  king  OT  Sw»dea.^^»ua  Kollt,  pp.  W3,< 

*Vniy  L'ouiu^il,  vol.  tii.  p.  aU.  ■  MODttrBlaU 


\ 


] 


RATH  BKtN 


OP    TALOia. 


I 


IH 

•nd  of  (h«  rammrr  of  143S;  itwhiRh  time  Katheriae  etiher  M 
In  ihe  iihbry  of  ItermnnilMry,  or  ww  e<n\,  Uu^re  nnJer  som*  r 
Tliia  rvpnl  a  sappngtul  tn  hnvp  iicriirnMl  junl  oAer  iJie  birth  of  b 
(taoghter,  Margaret,  who  lireil  but  a  few  ilnys.     Anxiety  of  n 
the  queen  into  ilecliDiiig  health,  luiJ  she  Temaiaed  very  ill  at  S 
■)!¥•  duriog  the  lutuiiin. 

"  The  high  apirii  of  ihe  ttuke  of  Gloucester,"  my*  one  of  our  hitto- 
riaiis.' "  eouM  not  brook  her  marriage;  neither  the  beauty  of  Tudof'i 
mraon,  nor  hia  genealogy  ilednced  from  Cndwallniler  kin^,  enuld  tihirld 
him  or  the  qaeen  from  a  tharp  penecutJun  aa  soon  as  tlic  match  wii 

The  rhlldren,  lo  whom  queen  Kaiherine  had  previotisly  Ktren  btnh 
in  seereu  were  lom  from  her  by  the  orders  of  the  cnnncil,  and  conaitiwd 
to  the  keeping  of  a  sister  of  ihe  earl  of  Suffolk.'  This  erueliy  ptmpa 
haxienei:!  the  death  of  the  unfortunate  que«n.  The  pitying  nnns  who 
■tiendeil  her  deelared  she  wafl  a  sincere  penitent,  and  among  all  otbM 
■mall  Kins  «he  expressed  llio  deepest  contrilion'  for  having  disobtyed 
her  royal  husband  Henry  V.,  and  perversely  choaeu  the  forbidden  euilc 
of  Windsur  as  the  biriliplaee  of  the  heir  of  England,  lu  her  yoUh 
Katheiine  had  evidendy  scorned  the  astrological  oracle,  ^  ihal  Henry  of 
Windsor  shall  lose  all  that  Henry  of  Monmouth  had  gained  ,"  but  now, 
■UhflUfh  Ihe  Iste  diraslcrs  in  France, snd  the  loweriin;  prospects  iuEnit- 
Und,  were  plainly  the  natural  consequences  of  a  Ihicly  years'  war,  9U- 
pcrsiiiion  seized  on  the  mind  that  had  formedy  rejected  il :  and  Ksths- 
rine,  weakened  by  snrrow  and  sullering,  devoutly  believed  thai  her  fiK* 
bidden  accouchment  at  Windsor  Casde  was  Ihe  reason  of  the  iU-fortune 
of  her  son,  Henry  VI.,  and  duly  repented  of  her  supposed  crime  on  Ix 
dealh-bed. 

While  languishing  between  life  and  death.  Kaiherine  made  her  will, 
ill  terms  which  fully  denote  the  deep  depression  of  her  apirila  ; — 

"Thn  IBM  will  of  queen  Kslhnrine  mule  unio  our  sovereign  lonl,  bat  ■» 
Upon  lier  departing  out  of  iliis  worlH.* 

-  Riglil  hiK>i  and  miglily  prince,  anJ  my  full  {n>)iloubicil  lotil,  and  Gtll  m- 
lireljt  hvlovnd  ton.  in  duo  linmlile  wiae,  with  fnll  heartj  naluml  blsMint,  IMO- 
menil  me  id  ynut  highneai.  To  the  whicli  plmse  to  be  cBinilaJ.  that  baltee&< 
■Ilsnl  and  fMiful  conclution  of  Ihii  luntf,  grioroui  innlailf.  in  the  wtikh  I  Hn 
be«n  lonB,  anil  yet  am,  troubled  anil  vexed  bjr  ihe  Tinuiioa  of  Ood  (V>  akaai 
be  ibaiihing  nnJ  laud  in  all  hIa  giAs).  I  purpose,  hf  the  enii»  of  Ood,  and  oalv 
jwiT  suctioiir,  pnHaction.  mnd  comlbn  (in  whom  onlf.  bdkhii  kII  olhar  sBdUy, 
sunJi  alJ  m7  tiud),  ID  ordaia  and  dlapoie  of  my  tmameiu,  both  fbr  mjr  oil 
and  my  body. 


a  tlie  mora  a 


nd  unju9t  of  GlmKestei  to  pecieciite  ami  u 
n  of  ui 


self  boil  formed  a  mnn  degmding  BlIiBiu-e  with  Eleanora  Cobhant.  who  tmi  <■« 

only  previouilf  lived  willi  liim  on  diirepuDble  letioa,  but  bad   bucna  an  tnlk 

moua  clininuur.  'AbbeH  of  Bnrhiiia,  Kslberiae  de  la  Pola.  'SproL 

'  This  dopiimenl  hat.  u  far  a>  we  know,  never  belbre  been  printsd.    It  ii  f"" 

I   ftally  Injured  by  ibe  Hrs  thai  damagHt  Ibo  Conoiiian  MSS.  in  the  but  cunluT 

b  remain!  to  be  inielligibte.     Mr.  Halliwell  has  kind))'  uanauibnl  ■ 

IE  lantnuitr-    The  onhography  alone  lias  bran  allerad,  in  jia  iatni"'- 

hit  bio|[rov>M-    CutonuM  US.    Tiibtrau  E.  viii.  Ibl.  SSI. 


KATHBKIIIB    OF    VALOIB.  117 

"  And  I  trust  fullj,  and  am  right  sure,  that,  among  all  creatures  earthly,  ye 
oett  mny,  and  will  best  tender  and  favour  my  will,  in  ordaining  for  my  soul 
and  boily,  in  seeing  that  my  debts  be  paid  and  my  servants  guerdoned,  and  in 
Under  and  favourable  fulfilling  of  mine  intent}  Wherefore,  tenderly  I  beseech 
yoii,  at  tlie  reverence  of  Go<l,  and  upon  my  full,  hearty  blessing,  that  to  my  per- 
petual comfort  and  healUi  of  soul  and  body,  of  your  abundant  and  special  graco 
(in  full  remedy  of  all  means  that  in  any  wise  may  amnentise*  or  deface  the 
effect  of  my  last  purpose  and  intent),  grant  at  my  humble  prayer  and  request  to 
be  my  executor ;  and  to  depute  and  assign  such  persons  to  be  under  you  of  your 
servants,  or  of  mine,  or  of  both,  as  it  shall  like  you  to  qhuse  tliem,  which  I  remit 
fully  to  your  disiposition  and  election.  Beseeching  you,  also,  at  the  reverence 
of  our  Lord  God  and  the  full  entire  blessing  of  me  your  mother,  that,  this  done, 
ye  tenderly  and  benignly  grant  my  supplication  and  request,  contained  partico- 
larly  in  the  articles  ensuing. 

**  And  if  tender  audience  and  favourable  assent  shall  be  given  by  so  benign 
•nd  merciful  a  lord  and  son  to  such  a  mother,  being  in  (at)  so  piteous  point  of 
to  grievous  a  malady,  I  remit  to  your  full,  high,  wise,  and  noble  discretion,  and 
to  the  conscience  of  every  creature  that  knoweth  the  laws  of  God  and  of  nature, 
that  if  the  motlier  should  have  more  favour  than  a  strange  person,  I  remit  (refer 
or  appeal)  to  the  same." 

From  the  perusal  of  this  solemn  exhortation,  a  conclusion  would 
naturally  be  drawn,  that  it  was  the  preface  to  the  earnest  request  of 
Railierine,  for  mercy  to  her  husband,  and  nurture  for  her  motherless 
infants.  Yet  the  articles  or  items  which  follow  contain  not  the  slightest 
allusion  to  them.  All  her  anxiety  seems  to  be  centred  —  firstly,  in  the 
payment  of  her  creditors  (without  which  she  seems  convinced  that  her 
•oul  will  never  get  free) ;  secondly,  in  obtaining  many  prayers  and 
masses  for  her  soul ;  and,  thirdly,  in  payments  being  made  and  rewards 
given  to  her  8er>'ants.  If  Katherine,  by  this  mysterious  document,  really 
made  any  provision  for  her  helpless  family,  it  is  all  comprised  in  the 
dark  hints  to  her  son  of  acting  ^  according  to  his  noble  discretion  and 
her  intents  ;^'  which  intention,  perhaps,  had  been  confided  to  the  young 
king  in  some  interview  previously  to  her  imprisonment  There  is  no 
enumeration  of  property  in  the  items  that  follow,  excepting  the  portion 
of  income  due  at  the  day  of  her  departing.  She  declares  that  her  soul 
^  shall  pass  as  naked,  as  desolate,  and  as  willing  to  be  scourged,  as  the 
poorest  soul  God  ever  formed." 

This  piteous  exhortation  to  her  son  was  written,  or  dictated,  a  few 
hours  before  her  death ;  yet,  even  at  her  last  gasp,  she  evidently  dared 
not  break  regal  etiquette  so  far  as  to  name  to  her  son  her  plebeian  lord 
or  her  young  children. 

Whilst  this  pathetic  document  was  in  course  of  preparation,  the  dying 
queen  receive<l  a  token  of  remembrance  from  her  son,  king  Henry,  on 
New- yearns  day,  consisting  of  a  tablet  of  gold,  weighing  thirteen  ounces^ 
on  which  was  a  crucifix  set  with  pearls  and  sapphires :  it  was  bought 
of  John  Pattesby,  goldsmith,  and  was  sent  to  Katherine  at  Bermondsey. 

'This  is  the  only  sentence  which  can  be  construed  into  an  a1lu!«ion  to  her 
fkmily ;  here  some  intent,  supposed  to  be  known  to  the  king,  is  imp]ic<l — a  my 
terinus  clause  evidently  di!«tinct  from  the  previously  enumerated  portions  of  tha 
irntnnce — viz.,  obituary  and  burial ;  ])nying  her  dfbt*  and   rewarding  her  aet- 
Wits.  '  '"^his  word  seems  to  mean  unpedt. 


memory,  on  which  was  engi 
same  preserved  in  the  pages 
lowing  is  a  translation  : — 

Death,  daring  sp>oile 
Within  tliis  tomb  ih 
Queen  Katlierine's  e 
Of  our  fifth  Henry,  ^ 
Henry,  mother.  As 
A  perfect  flower  of 
Here,  happy  Engl  an 
On  whose  auspiciou: 
And,  reft  of  whom,  ; 
Joy  of  this  land,  an( 
Glory  of  mothers,  to 
A  follower  sincere  o 
Heaven  and  our  ear 
This  woman,  who  a 
Earth,  by  her  ofTspri 
In  the  fourteen  hund 
First  month *s  third  d 
And  this  queen's  soi 
In  heaven,  received 

This  original  epitaph  has  1 
it  is  very  probable,  that  as  i 
widow,  and  not  a  wife,  it  oc( 
the  reign  of  her  grandson. 

Owen  Tudor  had  been  put 
Bermondsey.'     From  thence 


r    11 


ITATHBftlNB    OF    YALOtS.  119 

and  free  to  go^  The  council  gave  the  king's  Terbal  promise  that 
ould  depart  unharmed.  Owen  vowed  he  would  not  venture  hiro« 
vithin  their  reach,  without  a  written  promise.     This  was  granted^ 

he  hastened  to  London,  and  threw  himself  into  the  sanctuary  at 
minster,  where  he  remained  many  days,  ^  eschewing,''  as  a  docu- 

of  the  privy  council  says,  ^  to  leave  it,  although  many  persona, 
f  friendship  and  fellowship,  stirred  him  to  come  out  thereof,  and 
rt  himself,  in  the  tavern  at  Westminster  Ghite."  Here,  when  on 
at  Westminster  Palace,  Owen  had  evidently  been  accustomed  to 
If  and,  as  a  retired  soldier,  tell  over,  with  boon  companions^  all  hia 
of  Agincourt.  He  vras  right  to  resist  the  temptation  of  ^  disport* 
imself,"  for  the  council  certainly  meant  to  entrap  him  there, 
last,  he  heard  that  the  young  king  was  ^^  heavily  informed  of  him^'' 
\s  listening  to  serious  charges  against  him.  Upon  which  Owen 
;nly  appeared  before  the  privy  council,  then  sitting  in  the  chapel 
ber  at  Kennington  Palace,  and  defended  himself  with  such  manli- 
ind  spirit,  that  the  king  set  him  at  liberty. 

ren  immediately  retired  into  Wales ;  but  the  duke  of  Gloucester^ 
a  base  prevarication  perfectly  inconsistent  with  the  high  character 
wed  on  him  in  history,  sent  after  him,'  and,  in  despite  of  the  double 
conduct,  had  him  consigned  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  earl  of 
k,  in  the  dungeons  of  the  royal  castle  of  Wallingford,  under  pre- 
of  having  broken  prison.' 

e  lord -constable  of  England,  Beaumont,  was  paid  twenty  marks, 
le  expenses  he  had  incurred  in  catching  and  keeping  Owen,  his 
,  and  servant.  The  place  where  the  privy  council  met  to  arrange 
usiness  is  rather  remarkable :  it  was  transacted  in  the  secret  chamber 
ging  to  cardinal  Beaufort  as  bishop  of  Winchester,  in  the  priory  of 
iry's  Overy.  There  were  present,  in  this  secret  conclave,  **  the 
:anlinal,  the  lord-chancellor,  the  earl  of  Suffolk,  the  treasurer,  lord 
erford,  and  John  Stourton,  knight" 

was  found  convenient  to  remand  Owen  back  from  Wallingford 
)  to  Newgate,  where,  it  may  be  remembered,  his  priest  and  servant 
committed.  No  sooner  were  these  three  persons  in  Newgate  onca 
,  than  its  walls  were  found  inefficient  to  detain  them ;  they  all  made 
ind  escape,  aAer  ^  wounding  foully  their  gaoler,"  as  an  old  MS.  in 
arleian  Collection  declares.  Owen  laid  his  plans  so  successfully, 
econd  time  of  breaking  out  of  Newgate,  that  he  was  not  retaken, 
ed  with  his  fiiithful  adherents  to  the  Aptnesses  of  North  Wales, 
*  he  waited  for  better  times. 

s,  perhaps,  not  too  much  to  infer,  that  the  priest  thus  connected 
Dwen,  w^as  the  person  who  secretly  performed  the  marriage-cere- 

*9e  curious  links  in  the  histoiy  of  the  unfortunate  Katherine*8  partner, 
led  up  from  sir  Harris  Nicolas*  Minutes  of  the  Privy  Council,  vol.  v.  p. 
I. 

:ieni,  vol.  X.  p.  685.     The  order  for  his  imprisonment  there,  ends  thD»— 
moreover,  we  will  that  you  send  us  the  fourscore  and  nine  pounds  that 
und  on  the  raid  prirst,  wtiich  you  hare  now  in  hand,  the  which  jrou  are  to 
r  up  Ibi  wur  use  to  the  treasurer  and  chamberlain  of  our  ezolieqiier." 


I 


KATHBKINR    or    VALOII. 

Sj  bMwM-n  him  and  Kalliorinc^  and  iliat  the  wrrnnt  wu  viuen  lo 
WtdWk.  Tho  LonUiin  (.'hnioicle  rindicates  the  hrniour  of  the 
oi  vm-  cainplintcnuir)'  lo  her  spouse.  "Thisywr, 
SW  Owen.  ■  man  ne'  of  biriii,  n«  ti(  bvetiliuiHl,  brake  uui  of  Newguc  ai 
•earrhing;  time,  (be  wliicli  Oweu  had  pnvily  wedded  quei-u  Ivathenitt. 
and  Itail  three  or  four  cliildren  bj  her,  unkuowa  lo  the  comiiioii  pM)|dt 
till  ahe  waa  dead  and  buried."* 

Kaiheriiie'a  elileii  boys  moat  hare  been  very  youn^  ■■  the  lime  of  hn 
death,  sine*  they  icmained  inrimtfti  of  a  nunnery,  under  the  care  of  the 
abbea*  urBarkin^c,  till  th<?  year  II'IO.  They  were  wholly  ne^lrctcil  by 
the  cauri ;  fur,  till  the  abbesn  Bup])hcat«d  inint  urgently,  no  muaer  bail 
been  paid  for  the  auaienanee  ot  ibese  neKlecied  litile  uoea,  after  the  dnib 
of  the  muiher.' 

Soon  after  the  abbess  had  drawn  the  attention  of  Henry  VI.  lo  the  ex- 
istence of  the  children  of  hia  unfortunate  mtilher,  he  placed  lliera  ouilet 
the  care  of  discreet  prieals,  to  be  brongbt  up  choslely  and  viiiuously.* 
The  tuli^io^  «f  ihc  king  hnnself  linil,  at  this  lime,  eeuae<l  by  the  laws  of 
England  If  Katlierine  hod  survived  till  thia  )>eriod,  she  would  ha*ii 
been  ilifTerenily  treated ;  fur  more  ihiui  one  ulU  hisLorian  asaena,  Ihit 
Uenry  VI.  never  forgave  hia  undo  Gloucester  the  harah  usag«  hia  mother 
had  experienced,  Aa  soon  as  the  young  king  aiiained  his  majoriiyi  he 
allowed  Owen  Tuilor  an  aiiimity  of  Ml.  per  Biinum,  **  which,  for  ccrtUD 
causes,  him  niof  iiig,  he  gave  him  out  of  liis  privy  purse  by  especial 
gtmee,"' 

The  eldeel  son  of  Catherine  and  Owen  was  marrinl,  by  the  influent 
of  Henry  VI.,  to  Margaret  B«tuforl,  the  lieiroa^  of  the  houac  of  Sam«- 
•et.  .At  the  palace  of  Reading,  bin  royal  lutlf-brother  bestowed  un  kan 
the  liile  of  Itii'hiu'Hid.  This  waa  done  aiuidsi  the  reJotcingB  for  ihe  bmi 
of  Edward,  prince  of  Wales,  and  ihe  festivities  in  celebnitiou  of  the  kinf't 
resLoraiiou  lo  health  and  reason.  Edniuiid  look  preeeitence  of  all  olto 
Eiif^lish  peers.  He  died  in  his  twentieth  year,  leaving  an  in&ni  •«< 
afterwards  Henry  VII. 

The  next  brother,  Jasper  Tudor,  wns  created  earl  of  Pembrnkei  tbt 
same  day  thai  his  brother  receivnl  the  title  of  Kichmond.*  The  iluni 
aon  lived  and  died  a  monk  al  Weslminster. 

Owen  Tudor  himnelf  was  ukeii  into  aoroe  sori  of  favour,  bul  ntrer 
graced  with  any  title,  or  ownod  by  Henry  VI.  as  his  fatber-iit-law ;  u 
■nay  be  plainly  seen  by  a  deed  dated  so  late  aa  U6U,  jusi  before  the 
battle  of  North iinplnn,  where  ihe  king  declares,  "  that  out  of  considen- 
tinii  of  ihe  good  services  of  that  beioved  tqwre,  our  Owiiius  Tudyr,  wc 
for  [he  future  lake  him  into  our  special  gnu;e,a[id  moke  him  park-keepw 

■Nrlilier. 

>A  obronicler  in  Leland'a  Oillecilon  uwa  neailjr  Iha  same  woriisi  bat  l«lind 
has  ■ppendcU  a  nnu.  nying.  "  II  was  the  pri'ie  ot  Ihe  king's  uncle*  aloiw  wlik'h 
Nitighl  to  casi  tBOtn  on  Owvii's  birtli ;  likeH-we,  "  llial  Owen  eHpAd  by  M  of 
the  pripii."  •  Ftniero,  vol.  s.  p.  828. 

'  Blaakman's  Chronii^le.  piinlei)  al  iha  rud  of  Oueibourne  >  Chniiiidn. 

a%\   pkymeiiu  of  thii  aonuily,  Slsi  ami  3'Jil  of  llenrr  VL't  intft 


KATHKKIIIB    OF    VAI.OI8.  121 

of  our  parks  in  Denbigh,  Wales.'''  This  was  granted  when  the  king 
was  in  a  distressed  state,  and  the  old  warrior,  his  father-in-law,  had 
drawn  his  Agincourt  sword  in  his  cause. 

After  the  defeat  and  death  of  Richard  duke  of  York,  at  Wakefield,  a 
Lancastrian  anny,  commanded  by  Jasper  earl  of  Pembroke,  and  his 
fiuher,  Owen  Tudor,  pursued  the  earl  of  March,  who,  turning  fiercely  al 
bay,  defeated  them  near  Mortimer's  Cross.  Jasper  made  a  successful 
retreat ;  but  his  father,  with  true  Welsh  obstinacy,  positively  refused  to 
quit  the  lost  field,  he  was  taken  prisoner ;  and,  as  he  was  the  first  vic- 
tim on  whom  Edward  had  the  opportunity  of  wreaking  his  vengeance 
ibr  the  death  of  York  and  Rutland,  he  ordered  Owen  Tudor's  head  to  be 
smitten  ofif  in  Hereford  market-place,  with  two  or  three  Lloyds  and 
Howels,  his  kinsmen  and  comrades.'  Such  was  the  end  of  the  second 
husband  of  queen  Katherine,  who  lost  his  life  stoudy  battling  for  the 
cause  of  Lancaster.' 

When  Henry  VII.  ascended  the  throne  of  England,  he  caused  the 
Lady  Chapel  at  Westminster  Abbey,  with  the  tomb  of  queen  Katharine, 
to  be  demolished  for  the  purpose  of  building  a  new  and  stately  chapel. 
In  place  of  the  epitaph  destroyed,  (wiiich  must,  in  its  assertion  that 
queen  Katherine  died  widow  to  Henry  V.,  have  proved  very  embarrassing 
to  the  Tudors),  the  following  lines  were  hung  up,  which  were  evidently 
written  after  Henry  VILA'S  accession."  * 

*  Here  lies  queeu  Katherine  closed  in  grave,  the  French  king*8  daughter  fair, 
And  of  thy  kingdom,  Charles  tlic  Sixth,  the  true  undoubted  heir. 
Twice  joyful  wife  in  marriage— matched  to  Henry  the  Fifth  by  name, 
Becmuse  through  her  he  nobled  was,  and  shined  in  double  fame. 
The  king  of  England  by  descent,  and  by  queen  Katherine's  right. 
The  realm  of  France  he  did  enjoy — triumphant  king  of  might. 
A  happy  queen  to  Englishmen  she  came  right  grateful  here, 
And  lour  days*  bpace  they  honoured  God,  with  lips  and  reverent  fbar. 
Henry  the  bixth  this  queen  brought  forth,  with  painful  labour  plight. 
In  whose  empire  France  was  then,  and  he  an  English  wight. 
Under  no  lucky  planet  born  unto  himself  or  throne, 
But  equal  with  his  parents  both  in  pure  religion. 
Of  Owen  Tudor,  after  this,  thy  next  son  Edmund  was, 
O  Katherine,  a  renowned  prince,  that  did  in  glory  pass ! 
Henry  the  ISeventh,  a  Britain  pearl,  a  gem  of  England's  joy, 
A  peerless  prince  was  Edmund's  son,  a  good  and  gracious  roy; 
Therefore  a  happy  wife  this  was,  a  hapj)y  mother  pure. 
Thrice  liappy  child,  but  grand-dame  she  more  than  thrice  happy,  sure !" 

Although  Henry  VII.  had  demolislied  the  tomb  of  his  grandmother,  it 
10  certain  that  he  liad  not  caused  her  remains  to  be  exhumed,  since  he 
mentions  her  in  his  will,  as  still  interred  in  the  chapel ;  and  it  is  evident 
that  he  intended  to  restore  her  monument. 

^  Specially  as  the  body  of  our  grand-dame  of  right  noble  memory, 
queen  Katherine,  daughter  of  the  king  of  France,  is  interred  within  our 
monastery  of  Westminster,  and  we  propose  shortly  to  translate  thither 

*  Foedera,  vol.  x.  p.  43!).  *  Stow's  Annals,  and  PennanL 

'  **  A  report  liad  previously  existed,**  says  Biondi,  ^  that  Owen  had  been  put  to 
daatb  by  Humphrey,  duke  of  Gloucetter.**  .  *  Stow'f  London. 

?OL.  III. 11 


SATUKRINX    OP    TALOIS. 


xncie  of  blesai^il  iii«nory,  Uenrr  VI^  ami  whsAft 


I 


r  bndy  in  to  btr  buried  in  the  bU 
nioiiaaiery — that  is  to  mv,  in  ilie  ctia{<el  where  our  said  gnutd-dtme  lid 

Whiaj  Henry  VII.  wia  interred,  llii'  corpw  of  Kaiherine  w»s  eihumeiii 
and  w  hrr  ungmrtous  dascendani,  Henry  VIII.,  did  not  fiiltil  his  bther^ 
inlentiun  of  n«tarin|(  ker  tutnb,  (he  bunea  of  ihe  iinrortniiaif  quern 
never  found  a  final  rMling<place  till  ihe  coiamenei^mmi  of  the  prtstnl 
eeniury.  Wben  exhuiuMl,  ilie  queen's  corpsa  was  round  lo  be  in  ettiv 
ordinary  prveerraiion ;  il  wns,  iherrfore,  ahown  as  a  euTiosity  to  pe^ 
eoRg  visliiiif;  Wnctminilcr  Abbey,  for  at  ienst  three  centuriiM.  Weenr, 
in  his  Funeral  Monumenis,  t)iui  tnentiotie  iis  etale  it)  ilie  lime  cf 
Charles  I. 

"Ilcfn  lieih  Kathenne,queenurCnglaml.wire  tnllenryV.,  in  ■  ehnt 
or  Collin,  ivilli  a  ioost?  fover,  lo  lje  seen  tiiid  haudlfd  nf  any  who  n 
desire  it,  and  who,  by  Iter  own  appoinimeoE,  inllicti^d  this  pent 
her>ielf,  in  regard  in  her  dmobedience  lo  her  husband,  for  behig  di 
of  her  Ron,  lUnry  VI.,  al  Windsor,  which  place  he  forbade." 

In  the  rei^  of  Charles  II.,  the  poor  qiiccn  was  made  s  common  4 
tadr;  for  that  quninl  coinpnnnd  of  absurdities,  Pepys.  journalises,  « 
infiiiile  satislnction,  lliol  he  had  *•  this  day  kiase<l  a  quren,"  and,  thai  1m 
[iii);lit  make  litis  \natn,  lie  liad  kidveU  llie  mummy  cf  Kiilierino  ihe  Fiir< 
shown  for  tlie  eilra  charge  of  iwo  pence  to  lite  curious  in  such  huiron- 
Late  in  Uie  rei^n  of  George  III.,  the  Mine  diagiuliii^  imffic  was  canled 
on  ;  for  Huiton  repnibales  ii  in  his  Tour  Uirwugh  ihe  Sights  of  Londoo. 
This  exonlium  probably  drew  the  attention  of  the  then  dean  of  W^ 
minster;  for  the  wretched  remains  of  Kalhenns  the  Fair  ha«  n 
■inrc  then,  shelierod  from  public  view,  in  some  nook  of  tha  f! 
WesUniiister  Abbey. 


amonj^^l 


MARGARET  OF  ANJOU» 

QUEEN   OF   HENRY  VI. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Pventage  and  descent  of  Margaret — Her  birth — Baptism — Misfortunes  of  her 
ftther — Conjugal  heroism  of  her  mother — Margaret  betrothed  in  infancy — Her 
residence  at  Tarascon — Charms  and  early  promise— Goes  with  her  mother  to 
Naples  —  Her  Italian  education  —  First  proposal  of  Henry  VI.  —  Margaret 
courted  by  count  de  Nevers — Poverty  of  her  parents — Fame  of  her  beau^ 
and  talents — Henry  VI.  obtains  her  portrait — Secret  negotiations — Treaty  of 
Tours — Henry  appoints  Sutiblk  his  procurator — Margaret  married  to  king 
Henry  at  Nanci — Bridal  f^tes  and  tournaments — The  daisy  her  badge — Sor- 
rowful parting  with  her  family — Poverty  of  Henry  VI. — Attendants — Progress 
<»f  Margaret  through  France — ^Dines  with  the  duke  of  York — ^Margaret's  scanty 
eqtiipment — Bridal  wardrobe  purchased  by  the  king — Margaret  embarks  for 
Kngland — Lands  at  Porchcster — Falls  sick  at  Southampton — Married  to  king 
Henry  at  Tichficld  Abbey — Splendid  pageants  at  London — Her  coronation- 
Foreign  followers — Embassy  of  congratulation — Friendship  with  cardinal 
Beaufort — Murder  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester— ^ueen  Margaret's  influence  in 
tlie  government — Endows  Queen's  College — Banishment  and  murder  of  Suf- 
folk— Cade's  rebellion — Terror  of  the  queen — Persuades  the  king  to  retire- 
Revolt  suppressed — Queen  persecutes  John  Poyn — She  favours  Somerset — 
Wars  of  the  Roses — Talbot  MS.  presented  to  the  queen — Death  of  her  mother 
— King's  aberration  of  mind— Birth  of  prince  Eilward — Queen's  churching— 
Slic  exercises  regal  power — Loses  it — King's  recovery — Battle  of  St,  Albans. 

The  history  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb,  is  a 
lisaue  of  the  most  striking  vicissitudes,  and  replete  with  events  of  more 
powerful  interest  than  are  to  be  found  in  the  imaginary  career  of  any 
neroine  of  romance ;  for  the  creations  of  fiction,  however  forcibly  they 
may  appeal  to  our  imaginations,  fade  into  insignificance  before  the  simple 
majesty  of  truth. 

When  we  consider  the  stormy  grandeur  of  character  of  this  last  and 
most  luckless  of  our  Provencal  queens,  her  beauty,  her  learning,  her 
energetic  talents,  and  the  important  position  she  occupied  for  more  than 
m  quarter  of  a  century  in  the  annals  of  this  country,  first  as  the  uncon- 
stitutional, but  cerUtinly  supreme,  director  of  the  power  of  the  crown^ 
mnd  lastly  as  the  leader  and  rallying  point  of  the  friends  of  Lancaster,  it 
is  remarkable  that  no  complete  and  authentic  memoir  of  this  princes* 
has  ever  been  given  to  the  world. 

Kene  of  Anjou,  the  father  of  Margaret,  was  the  second  son  of  Louis 
II.,  king  uf  Sicily  and  Jerusalem,  duke  of  Gilabria  aniT  Anjou,  and  count 


l^i  MARGARET    OF    ANJOT. 

of  Provence,  bir  Yolanie  of  Arragon.  In  1 430  Rene  ma,  in  Ui  ddr- 
leenlh  year,  espoused  to  Isabella,  ihe  betren  of  Lominr,  wImi  w«inly 
ten  years  old  at  the  period  of  her  nupliali.  This  Udy,  «hii  wtt  lli« 
<lit«ct  descendant  of  Charlemngne.  in  addiiran  lo  her  prinertv  ]«iTiiiRiaT. 
brought  tlie  beauiy,  the  high  spirit,  and  the  imperiut  Uikh)  of  Lhu  ill«- 
ti-ious  line,  into  the  family  of  Anjou.  Her  yoiiii4^!ii  liattj^bitt,  Hat^Mtt, 
was  in  alt  reapeels  a  genuine  ecion  of  the  Carlo* ingiau  race;  the  ab« 
inherited  her  father's  love  of  learning,  and  his  ta»i«  fur  po«trT  ud  iht 

Some  of  the  English  historians,  following  Mottsirelol,  filao«  tht  te 
of  Mar^ret'a  birth  in  1425;  but  this  is  a  jMlpable  orior,  far  ticrwAK 
who  was  Rcareely  fifteen  at  that  lime,  did  not  give  birth  lo  ScrcUw 
diild,  John  of  Calabria,  till  llie  follDwing  year.'  Thm  cunv  pran 
Louis,  followed  by  Nicolas  and  Yolante,  iwiu-rlitlilren,  whn  vrra  bn 
October  i,  1428.  Al^r  the  decease  of  Reo^  and  tit<  at 
Ihe  title  of  queen  of  Sicily,  as  the  nest  htir;  and  this 
gether  with  her  marnage-setttemenU,  suliie.iendy  attests  ibe  Eki  thu  ttt 
was  the  elder  sister  of  our  Margarel,'  since  the  dales  of  ihe  btrtb  irf  (M- 
dren  having  claims  to  a  disputed  succession  are  ^nerslty  HlrirUv  sviWi- 
licated  by  (he  records  of  ilieir  own  country.  Thus  we  sea  thai  Marpn< 
of  Anjou  was  four  years  younger  than  has  been  geiwraUf  iwpf»w»l 
According  lo  the  best  authorities.*  Margaret  waa  bom  Match  S3,  Itii. 
at  Point  i  MouBson,  her  mother's  dowtttfalMebf  tMte  vf  tbvmriil 


MARGARET    OP    AKJOD.  135 

gam  ma  her  niother''s  companion,  during  the  aa^'oisii^  hnnn  at  mis> 
pfiitie  in  nrhieh  she  remainetj  at  Nanri,  swHJiing  tkliti^  of  ihc  Usae  of 
thiU  dUnstriMiB  fight.  The  eveni  was  too  soon  annDiintnl,  hv  the  arriral 
of  the  fiigiiiret  from  the  lost  battle.  ■■Alasf"  exclnimeil  the  <lurhe«<a. 
cbuping  her  liiile  Margaret  to  her  bosom,  '•  where  is  Kcne  mr  hird  ? — 
he  is  inkeii — he  is  siaiH !" ' 

"  Mailarii,"  k-iid  tbey,  *■  be  not  thus  abandone<l  to  grieT;  the  ilake  is 
in  good  health,  ihnni;!)  disabled,  and  priioner  lo  the  Biirginidianfi."  But 
the  durhrss  was  inconsolablp.  The  council  of  Lorraine  regarded  her 
Willi  the  tieepest  synipathy,  for  she  was  left  with  four  helple«»  childttn, 
two  boys  and  two  girls,  the  most  beautiful  ever  seen. 

While  the  duchess  Margneriie  (her  mother)  rallied  the  dispirited 
fnenda  of  Rene,  for  the  defence  of  Nanci.  Isabel,  the  tenderwl  and  most 
ciiurngeout  of  conjugal  heroines,  sought  an  interview  with  her  hostile 
kiDSRiMt,  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  the  release  of  her  captive  luril,  and  a 
ceaaaiion  from  the  horrors  of  civil  strife.  Moved  by  her  pathetic  eIo< 
(pwince,  Antoine  granted  a  truce  of  sii  months,  dated  Augim  1,  1431. 

Her  ntpplicaiioni)  in  behalf  of  Ren^  were  fruitless,  for  he  had  been 
already  given  up  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  by  whom  he  was  consigned 
to  a  lung  imprisonment  at  Dijon,  at  the  lop  of  a  high  tower,  eiill  tn  ex- 
istence.' The  only  condition  on  which  the  aire  of  Margaret  could  obtain 
ereo  a  tempnniry  release  from  his  ihraidoni>  was  at  the  price  of  bestow- 
ing his  clde-il  daughter,  Yolsnte,  then  in  her  ninth  year,  on  the  heir  of 
bin  rival,  the  young  Ferry  or  Frederic  of  Vaudemont,  with  part  of  tho 
disputed  lands  of  Lorraine  for  her  portion.  The  litile  Margaret  was  at 
the  mnie  time  betrothed  lo  Pierre  of  Luxemburg,  count  St.  Pol,  whose 
•quire  had  cut  Rene  down  at  the  battle  of  Bulgneville.' 

Rene,  being  pledged  to  pay  a  heavy  sum  of  money  to  the  duke  of 
Barguiidy  fur  his  ransom,  was  obliged  to  give  his  two  boys  as  his  host- 
•gea,  and  to  resign  Yolante  to  her  new  mother-in-lnw ;  so  that,  of  their 
fiMjT  beautiful  children,  the  infwnt  Margaret  nns  the  only  one  who  f*. 
innteij  to  Nanci  wiib  her  parents.  Such  a  meeting  and  such  a  parting 
•8  that  of  Rene  with  his  family  was  never  befure  witnetued.  and  the 
"pelile  crtaturt,"  Margaret,  as  she  is  called  by  the  chroniclers  of  Lotw 
nine,  is  said  to  have  tesiilied  the  uiinust  sensibility  on  this  occasion.* 

The  death  of  the  virtuous  Margaret  of  Bavaria,  the  granihuother  of 


I 


oreRoaia  tiJI  be  wu  blinded  bj  [he  blrxxl  (Vom  ■  woand  on  tin  IbH  brow,  tha 
■ear  of  which  ho  carried  (o  Ihe  grave.'* 

■  Hera,  n  disripale  tfae  sorrow  or  hi)  ai[iliTit]r,  Kimi  empla]ml  himielf  in 
puntinc-  Tbs  cbtpel  of  the  castle  of  l>iji>n  i>  •tilJ  enrichnl  witli  bmuliftil 
mioianire*  ■nd  paintsd  glku  by  thx  io)ml  Imml  nr  the  fHllier  of  out  Mstg>rM  of 
Aitiiou.  Il  nu  lliii  cMnion  of  hia  talenu  iJibi  &xi*\ly  irrminsleil  hi*  cBpii*iq>, 
Ibr  Pliilip  lbs  Good  wu  so  much  pl»*ed  with  the  ilgbt  of  hli  own  portMib 
painted  on  ilao  bjr  bia  interesting  {">■■""'''  ''"'  be  uiught  an  inicrtirw  wltk 
bin,  ela*pAi  him  in  hi*  annt.  and.  aner  eiprpHing  lbs  Kreateil  admintion  Ibr 
Ma  aalmti.  nffetiHl  to  mediale  with  Anloine  ■)«  Vuidemonis  fbr  liin  librntloa. 
TUi  pormii.  togMlirt  with  one  of  Jran-Mn*-Peur,  ilie  Ikthvt  ofdiiki*  Pbiliik  was 
|ilTii '  in  tba  wtndnw  of  ihF  eliureh  of  CtianwuM  ai  Dijon,  but  Wat  drmolialwil 
,  .■  na  Rpvolaiion.  *Chroniale>  of  Lomine.     MewnL 


I 

4 


8ontil  etuiow incuts,  her  rounifre,  and  c< 
this  ilhistrious  parent  that  Mar^ret  in 
sternest  Hhttcks  (if  adversity  were  unahl 
•8  litabella  uf  L(»rraine,  who  was  the  \ 
contemporary  of  Joau  of  Arc,  born  an 
ivarfare  and  domestic  calamitv,  it  is  so 
ifticB  of  AnjouV  heroine  partook  of  t 
she  was  unlmppiJy  thiowii. 

While  arranging  her  measures  for 
claims  of  her  captive  lord,  to  the  dis 
mother  of  Margaret,  who  had  now  ac 
Two  Sicilies,  tiH)k  up  lier  abode  with 
teau  of  Tarascon,  on  the  banks  of  the 
and  graces  (»f  these  illustrious  childr 
▼en^e,  ^  caused  them  to  be  regarded  i 
lants.^' 

The  ProYcn^als,  whose  poetic  feeli 
the  advent  of  the  consort  and  lovely 
followed  them  in  crowds,  wherever  th( 
praise,  strewing  flowers  at  their  fe 
wreaths,  and  nigiitly  kindling  bontin 
them  from  infection.  Nostradamus  f 
number  of  witches  and  evil  fairies,  wl 
loyal  throngs  who  came  to  gaze  on  t 
creatures,  ^  the  Infanta'  Marguerite  am 

The  fearful  visitation  of  the  plague 
lies  to  hurrv  her  precious  little  ones 


e  waled  by  their  royitl  moiliEr,  ii)  the  iriumphal  cliAir  of  tiue, 
'elvet  anil  embroidered  wiili  gold,  in  wtiich  \\»a  conjugal 
ome  llirou^h  ihe  street  of  Naples. 

hiefly  indebted  for  his  deliveranre  from  bondage  lo  the 
iXcrtinnH  of  hia  fnilhrul  ronaort.  Jn  the  treaty  for  his  liberation,  tlis 
bllnwing  remarkable  article  was  proposed  by  the  duke  of  Biiriiunily, 
wbich  affiwis  an  indication  thai  the  English  alliance  was  contemplated 
M  early  tta  l-fSS-O: — "And  to  cement  the  peace  between  the  two  powers, 
Haniaiei  o(  Anjim,  second  dsii^hior  lo  Uie  king  Kene,  aball  espoufie  tho 
young  king  of  England."  This  was  nine  years  before  t)ie  maiTiaga 
took  place,  the  bnde  being  but  six  years  old ;  it  appears  a  mere  sugges- 
tion on  tlie  side  or  Burgundy,'  without  any  sanction  of  the  English,  utd 
was  oppose<l  hy  Cliarles  VII, 

Margaret  ol'  Anjo'j  remained  at  the  Capiiu  Palace,  with  her  heroic 
mother,  till  ill e  year  143S.  when  Rene,  having  obtained  his  freedoitii 
made  his  entry  into  Naples,  with  a  Pruvengal  anny,  mounted  on  a 
atately  while  charger.  After  tenderly  embracing  Margnrel  and  her  ino- 
tber.  he  tmnsferred  their  abode  to  the  elegant  jMlace,  finished  wjili  the 
nunosi  profusion  of  luxury,  by  his  volupiuous  predecessor,  Joanna  il. 
Here,  in  the  soft  air  of  Itajy,  our  young  Margaret  of  Anjou  proceeded 
in  her  education,  under  the  care  of  her  mother,  and  her  brother's  leamei] 
nioT,  Anioine  de  Salle,  author  of  some  of  the  earliest  romancca  of 
FWnch  literaiure,  which,  it  is  said,  he  wrote  for  the  amusement  of  Mar- 
gsrei's  brother;  "Because,"  says  Antoine,  in  his  dedication,  •*  you  wort 
always  very  fond,  my  prince,  of  hearing  me  letl  you  little  tales." 

This  littniry  education,  in  the  sweet  and  ToIupHions  dime  of  Naples, 

I  1-  by  DO  means  a  suitable  preparation  for  Margaret's  English  deslina- 

I  :  for  there  could  be  few  ideas  in  common  between  her  and  a  ruilg 

iple  who  had  rptrogradeil  from  the  civilisation  they  had  altained  under 

K    I'rovenfal  alliances  of  England. 

In  the  yeor  1413,  Margaret  rctunied  to  Lorraine  with  her  royal  mo- 
ther, having  lint  experienced  the  grief  of  losing  her  brother  princs 
Louis,  with  whom  she  had  been  educaletl.  Previous  to  ihai  event,  ihe 
contnct  of  marriage  with  ihe  count  de  Si.  Pol  having  been  broken  ol^ 
her  hand  was  sought  by  the  count  de  Nevers,  nephew  lo  the  duke  of 
Birrgundy.  and  mailers  were  so  far  advanced  that  a  day  was  B|>pointed 
for  the  ariicles  to  be  signed ;  but  when  it  was  discovered  that  a  clausa 
had  been  inserted,  disinheriting  the  children  that  might  be  borti  of  lier 
tider  sister  Tolante  and  Ferry  of  Vaudemonte,  Charles  Vll,.  whose  con- 
•orV  Mary  of  Anjou,  was  auni  to  both  princesses,  would  not  permit  ibe 
alliance  to  take  place  on  such  eontlitlons. 

The  propoiMils  of  the  count  SL  Pol  were  renewed  after  the  deaih  of 
prince  l.ouis,  but  Nostradamus  tliinks  the  idea  of  the  more  splendid 
alliance  wiib  the  king  of  England  prevented  them  from  bting  accepted. 

Meantime  l)ie  terriioriea  of  Anjou  and  Maine,  king  Rent's  patrimoof 


I 


^  ScBKely  hnd  MnrBJir^rnfAtijoi^nli 
BOUs  chitrms  and  tnli-nu  rrrnW  llip  m 
of  hrr  aunt,  llic  ijurni  «f  Fmnce.    "  Th 

Aninu.  She  wa!  nlreaily  renownwl  in 
and  ill  tb*  iiiisfunuiies  of  her  Tathfr  ht 
of  (!i«playing  her  lofiy  tpiril  and  roitraj 
"Tlie  report  of  ihwe  eharroi,''  &C( 
aiwicwhat  iniagiiiaiive,  Freiicli  auihofi 
yoiin)^  hnrhcior  king  nf  Englsnit,  ihroi 
of  Anjou,  iiamral  Chompehevrier.  a  pri 
Julin  Folatnlf),  with  whom  king  U«n 
OCCasiuually  ;  siiil  he  gave  so  eloquciil  i 
menu  which  nature  had  beetownl  nn 
impowet'uhod  king  of  the  Two  Sinii 
to  the  roiirl  of  Lorraine,  lo  procure 
CMS."  This  slniempiK  is  quite  consUb 
regard  iq  the  preliminaries  for  his  alliai 
of  Armngnnc ;  for  wc  find,  by  the  euri 
two  ronrI«,  that  a  painler  named  lUnt 
monarch,  to  paint  (he  porlreils  of  l)it^  t 
his  MLisfHCiion.  Henry  was  very  expli 
BMW*  should  be  perfect,  requiring  i) 
painied  in  their  kirUea  simple,  and  thei 
stature,  nnd  their  beauty,  the  colour 


MARGARET    OF    ANJOU.  129 

nances.^"  The  commissioners  ^  were  to  ur^e  Uie  nrlist  to  use  jrreat  ix- 
pedition,  and  to  send  the  picture  or  ymagine  over  to  the  kinur  as  quickly 
M  possible^  that  he  might  make  his  choice  between  the  three.'^' 

Champchevrier^  more  successful  in  his  mission  than  the  reverend 
plenipotentiariea  who  had  endeavoured  to  ncgotuite  the  matrimonial 
traaty  with  the  court  of  Armagnac,  obtained  a  portrait  of  Marj^aret, 
painted  by  one  of  tlie  first  artists  in  France,  who  was  employed,  our 
author  adds,  by  the  earl  of  Suffolk.  This  is  not  unlikely,  for  SufH^Ik 
was  the  ostensible  instrument  in  tiiis  marriage ;  but  the  real  person  with 
whom  the  project  for  a  union  between  Henry  VI.  and  Margaret  of  Anjou 
originated,  appears  to  have  been  no  other  than  cardinal  Beaufort,  the  * 
gieat-uncle  of  the  king.'  The  education  of  Henry  VI.  having  been  su* 
perintended  by  the  cardinal,  he  was  fully  aware  of  the  want  of  energy 
and  decision  in  his  character,  which  rendered  it  desirable  to  provide  him 
with  a  consort  whose  intellectual  powers  would  be  likely  to  supply  his 
constitutional  defects,  and  whose  acquirements  might  render  her  a  suit- 
able companion  for  so  learned  and  refined  a  prince.^ 

In  Margaret  of  Anjou  all  these  requisites  were  united  with  beauty, 
eloquence,  aitd  every  feminine  charm  calculated  to  win  unbounded  influ* 
ence  over  the  plastic  mind  o{  the  youthful  sovereign.  She  was,  more- 
over, at  that  tender  and  unreilective  age,  at  which  she  might  be  rendered 
a  powerful  auxiliary  in  the  cardinaPs  political  views.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Champchevrier  had  received 
hi*  cue  from  the  cardinal,  when  he  described  to  Henry,  in  such  glowing 
colours,  the  charms  and  mental  graces  of  the  very  princess  to  whom  he 
had  determined  to  unite  him,  both  for  the  reasons  we  have  before  stated, 
and  at  a  means  of  concluding  a  peace  with  France. 

In  the  meantime  sir  John  Falstolf,  who  was  not  in  the  secret,  being 
greatly  enraged  at  the  departure  of  his  prisoner  without  having  made 
any  agreement  for  the  payment  o{  his  ransom,  employed  the  duke  of 
Glouceater,  with  whom  he  enjoyed  some  credit,  to  write  a  letter  to  the 
king  of  France,  explaining  the  circumstance,  and  entreating  that  he  might 
be  reatored  to  him.^  According  to  the  laws  of  chivalry,  no  prince  was 
justified  in  extending  his  protection  to  a  captive  who  had  forfeited  his 
parole  of  honour ;  therefore  king  Charles  issued  orders  for  the  arrest 
of  Champchevrier,  who  was  taken  on  his  way  trom  the  court  of  Lor- 
mine  towards  England.  He  was  brouglit  before  the  king  of  France  at 
Vincennes,  and  fully  cleared  himself  from  all  imputations  on  his  honour. 
by  producing  a  safe  conduct  to  Lorraine,  signed  by  king  Henry,  and 
explaining  the  nature  of  the  mission  on  which  he  had  been  employed 
by  his  captor's  sovereign. 

*  Beckington'n  Jcnirnnl,  o<litr«!  by  sir  Harris  Nicoliij*,  p.  9. 

*  There  is  much  correspondence  in  Beok}n|(ton's  Journnl,  as  to  tbf^se  portrait*, 
vrhich  were  painted  in  oil  on  canvass.  The  count  of  ArinA^nnc,  who,  it  soems, 
was  only  amuning  tlio  Knglish  with  nofeutiiitiont)  ho  never  iiitendeit  to  fulfil, 
Slmtee^  **that  one  oi*  the  })ortrHit4  is  done,  and  the  others  slinll  l>o  completed  wiih 
■II  speed  ;"  but  tiiey  cprtniniy  never  reached  Kn^lHud. 

*  terante's  Chronicles  of  the  dukes  of  Burgiuidy.  Guthrie's  fol.  Hist,  of  Enf* 
land.  *  ririd. 

*'rbie  letter  is  still  in  existence  in  the  royal  archives  oCFmv««. — ^PvttiMi. 

I 


an  otliauce 


p49i  MARCARKT    OF     A!(jnn.  ^H 

Charles  VII.  wax  tii^hlv  smitsrd  nt  ihr  inrnmiBlinn  ihus  nhtanwd  rf 
bis  nepliew's  U)V)>a(1nira ;  nnd  briiij;  rlriick  with  the  gient  ailvanU|ei 
tliHi  mighi  iTsuli  u>  tiimseir  and  hi?  Iiafasied  kinKOuni.  if  an  otliauce 
WFr«  RCiimlly  lo  be  funned  between  Henry  and  his  fair  kiniwt 
rflrainl  <'hninpchevrier,  and  enjoined  him  to  raiuni  lo  the  court  i 
land  without  delay,  atid  make  use  of  every  reprefleniatii 
ti  inrline  king  Henry  to  choose  ihe  lady  Margaret  for  bU  queen.' 

The  rt^^ppearance  of  Chanipchevri^r  at  WindsDr,  and  his 
runferencet  with  the  king,  cauned.  it  is  added,  BUipicions 
lure  of  the  biitriiicsB  on  which  ho  had  been  employed,  in  the  mmd  ff  the 
duke  of  Gloucrster,  who  kept  up  a  j>«lou8  egpionage  on  the  actioniw' 
his  myal  nephpw.  Theie  luapiriona  were  conlimiei)  when  king  licvry 
undertook  himself  to  satisfy  sir  John  Fahtolf  fur  the  ran»un)  uThiipn- 
Boner,  antt  ile#palched  him  a  second  lime  on  a  secret  niiwion  to  lilt 
court  of  Lorraine. 

Henry  VI,  was  then  in  his  four-snd-tweniieih  year,  beaniiful  in  pf^ 
Bon.  of  a  highly  culiivaied  and  refined  mind,  holy  and  pui«  in  ihoofhi 
and  deed,  rexitiing  with  vinunue  indignation  every  allcmpt  that  hid 
been  made  by  the  unprinripled  females  nf  his  court  to  en'anirlc  him  ia 
the  anarcB  of  illicit  passion  ; '  yet  pining  for  the  sweet  ties  of  conjufd 
love  and  sympathv.  The  lonelineaa  of  his  condition,  and  "  his  caninl 
desite  lo  livp  under  ihe  holy  sirrament  of  imringp,"  arf  pnhfticalljMi 
forth  hy  the  bachelor  monarch,  in  his  cnrinua  instructiona  lo  die  eom- 
miasioners  empowered  by  him,  two  years  before,  to  conduct  the  atga- 
tiationa  belneen  him  and  the  court  of  Armagnac.' 

The  choice  of  a  consort  for  the  young  kin^,  was  the  deciding  eonlM 
for  political  mastery,  between  those  fierce  rival  kmamen.  tile  duke  rf 
Gloncesier  and  cardinal  Beaufort.  Gloucester')*  favourite  pTojecti  nf 
uniting  his  royal  nephew  with  a  prineesB  of  the  house  of  Armagnac «■ 
re nderml  abortive,  hy  Henry's  detemiinaiion  u'll  to  commit  hUDMirhi 
any  wnv,  till  he  had  seen  the  pfirlraits  of  the  ladies;*  and  while  ibe 
count  of  Armagnac,  who  was  playing  a  douhlc  game  with  the  onrl  of 
Prance,  delayed  the  artist's  progress,  for  diplomatic  reasons,  the  lirrly 
IrauBCripl  of  the  charms  of  his  lovely  kinswoman,  Margarri  ii(  .^ajoii, 
made  an  indelible  impression  on  the  heart  of  the  yauiliful  monarcli,  sod 
he  resolveil  to  obtain  her  hand  at  any  sacrifice.  The  sacrifice  wan,  «fw 
all,  much  less  than  has  been  represented  ;  and  Henry  VI.,  in  his  ardent 
desire  to  give  peace  to  his  exhausted  realm,  proved  himself  a  mora  co- 
lightened  ruler  than  hia  renowned  eiie,  who  had  deluged  the  continual 
with  blood,  and  rendered  the  crown  bankrupt,  in  ihr  vain  attsmpl  » 
unite  England  and  France.  The  national  pride  of  the  English  prampud 
them  to  desire  a  continuance  of  the  contesL  hut  it  was  a  contest  do  W> 
ruinous  now  to  England  than  to  France ;  and  cardinal  Beeufort,  with  the 
other  members  of  lleuiy's  cabinet,  being  destitute  of  the  meens  of  n«i»- 
laining  llie  war,  were  only  too  happy  to  enter  into  amicable  w^otiilMW 

'Whan  di»  liuliM  prr«enicd  ihem«elsc 
_     tirns'l  MM/ny,  with  Itii*  priim 
fa  to  blame." 

a  Janiart.  aBMilVf  fclUWa'Suai^*.^.  7. 


MAROARKT    OF    All  JOU.  131 

with  France^  on  the  grounds  of  a  matrimonial  alliance  between  king 
Henry  and  Margaret  of  Anjou,  who,  through  her  grandmother,  Margaret 
of  Bavaria,  was  nearly  related  both  to  Charles  VII.  and  to  Henry. 

In  January,  1444,  the  commissioners  of  England,  France,  and  Bur- 
fundy,  were  appointed  to  meet  at  Tours,  to  negotiate  a  truce  with 
Fimnce,  preparatory  to  a  peace,  the  basis  and  cement  of  which  were  to 
be  the  marriage  of  the  young  king  of  England  with  the  beautiful  niece 
of  the  queen  of  France.  Many  historians  are  of  opinion  that  the  matri- 
monial treaty,  with  all  its  startling  articles,  had  been  privately  settled 
betwem  the  courts  of  England,  France,  and  Liorraine,  before  the  publi- 
cation of  the  commission  for  negotiating  the  truce.' 

Sufiblk,  who  was  appointed  the  ambassador  extraordinary  on  this 
oecasion,  was  so  much  alarmed  at  the  responsibility  he  was  likely  to 
incur,  that  he  actually  presented  a  petition  to  the  king,  praying  to  be 
excused  from  the  office  that  had  been  put  upon  him;'  nor  could  he  be 
peTailed  upon  to  undertake  it,  till  he  was  secured  from  personal  peril, 
oy  an  order  from  the  king  under  the  great  seal,  enjoining  him  to  under- 
lie, without  fear  or  scruple,  the  commission  which  had  been  given 
him.  Thus  assured,  Suffolk  was,  in  an  evil  hour  for  himself  and  aU 
parties  concerned,  persuaded  to  stand  in  the  gap,  by  becoming  the  pro- 
eoimtor  of  the  most  unpopular  peace,  and  fatal  marriage,  that  were  ever 
negotiated  by  a  prime  minister  of  England.  As  a  preliminary,  a  truce 
for  two  years  was  signed,  May  28th,  1444. 

Neither  money  nor  lands  were  demanded  for  the  dowry  of  the  bride, 
whoee  charms  and  high  endowments  were  allowed  by  the  gallant  am- 
bassadors of  England  ^^  to  outweigh  all  the  riches  in  the  world.'" 

When  the  proposal  was  made  in  form,  to  the  father  of  the  young 
Hargareti  he  replied,  in  the  spirit  of  a  knight-errant,  ^  That  it  would  be 
inconsistent  with  his  honour  to  bestow  his  daughter  in  marriage  on  the 
oeurper  of  his  hereditary  dominions,  Anjou  and  Maine;''*  and  he  de- 
manded the  restoration  of  these  provinces,  as  an  indispensable  condition 
in  the  marriage-articles.  This  demand  was  backed  by  the  king  of 
Prance,  and,  after  a  little  hesitation,  ceded  by  king  Henry  and  his 
Booncil. 

The  handsome  and  accomplished  count  de  Nevers,  who  was  a  prince 
sf  the  house  of  Burgundy,  a  soldier  and  a  poet,  was  at  the  same  time  a 
oandidate  h>r  the  hand  of  the  royal  Proven9al  beauty,  to  whom  he  was 
paaaionately  attached ;  *  and  it  is  probable  that  the  idea  of  this  formidable 
rivals  wno  was  on  the  spot  withal,  to  push  his  suit  in  person,  might  have 
bad  some  efiect  in  influencing  king  Henry  to  a  decision,  more  lover-like 
than  politic. 

Ab  soon  as  the  conditions  of  the  marriage  were  settled,  Suflblk  re- 
tnmed  to  bring  the  subject  before  parliament,  where  he  had  to  encounter 
i  stormy  opposition  from  the  duke  of  Gloucester  and  his  party,  who 
were  equally  hostile  to  a  peace  with  France,  and  a  marriage  with  a 

*  Gathrie.     Bsrante.     Sp^ed. 

*  Rinner'f  Fotf1«*ra.     It  U  remnrkable  timt  Suffolk,  Molyns,  and  Wenlock,  ths 
•^itnnrwoiicrii  in  thiji  treaty,  nil  came  to  violent  ends. 

*fi;p'»wtl.     r»a|>in.     Giitiirie.     Barante.  *  Ra^u.  ^  N*^VQk»a^%. 


■  < 'I       «<■•«      <   ••^••a^'«i-> 


Mar::aitMtu«  the  serene  daui^luer  of  the  1 
we  tfhull  ronlmct  iimtrimonv  with  her,  w 
rumhiried  to  us  over  seas,  tVoin  lier  couni 

Suliolk,  accoiii{»aiiie(i  by  his  lady,  and 
hatl  Mided  from  Liiffluiid  on  thisi  lulal  mii 
recdetl  to  Nanri.  The  kin^,  queen,  and 
dukcH  f>t*  Brt'tagne  and  Alen^on,  and,  in  e 
per!ion:i^es  of  the  courts  of  France  and  ] 
to  do  honour  to  ilic  ettpoudaU  of  the  yo 

Historians  vary  an  to  the  time  and  pla 
cordiiii(  to  the  best  autliorities,  it  was  «> 
by  I^>uis  d^llarancourt,  bisliop  of  Toul,  f 
where,  in  the  presence  of  iicr  illustrioi 
France,  and  a  concourse  of  nobles  and 
es{H>used  the  laily  Margaret,  in  the  n 
■oven^ifirn,  Henry  VJ.  of  Kuj[;land.* 

Drayton,  in  his  p<ietical  chronicle,  aft 
and  nunil>er  of  the  di8tinll:ui^<hed  tresis 
thus  elegantly  alludes  to  the  ciiarms  of 

•■  Whiln 
Like  to  tho  ro«y  morning  Ui\ 
Cheers  all  the  church  rs  it  t\ 

King  Rene  indulged  his  passion  for 
tliese  nuptials,  to  his  heart's  content, 
htmour  of  the  young  queen  of  Cnglan 
kniirhts  and  ffallant  warriors  wore  i;arhi 


MAROARBT    OF    ARJOU.  133 

ie  Breze,  lord  of  Varenne^  and  seneschal  of  Normandy,  one  of  the  com* 
mitfsioiiere,  who  negotiated  the  marriaj^e-treaty  of  the  beautiful  Margaret, 
in  whose  service,  during  the  melancholy  period  of  the  wars  of  the  Roses, 
he  afterwards  performed  such  romantic  exploits.'  Charles  VII.  appeared 
in  tlu*  listii  more  than  once  in  honour  of  his  fair  kinswoman ;  he  bore 
on  his  shield  the  serpent  of  the  fairy  Mrlusina.  He  tilted  with  the 
iklher  of  tiie  royal  bride,  hy  whom,  however,  he  was  vanquished.  The 
most  distinsruisiied  renown  was  won  by  Margaret^s  forsaken  spouse,  the 
count  St.  Pol,  who  received  the  prize  from  the  hands  of  her  aunt,  the 
queen  of  Fiance,  and  her  mother,  the  queen  of  Sicily.' 

It  is  to  be  observed  tliat  Suffolk  took  no  part  in  the  jousts  or  games. 
Such  exercises  were,  in  fact,  little  suited  to  his  grave  years,  which 
greatly  outnumbered  Uiose  of  the  father  of  the  youthful  bride,  notwith- 
standing all  that  poets  and  romancinsr  historians  have  feigned,  on  the 
subject  of  the  imaginary  passion  of  Margaret,  for  the  hoary  proxy  of 
her  lord. 

The  bridal  festivities  lasted  eight  days,  and  the  spot  where  the  tourna- 
ment was  held,  is  still  called,  in  memory  of  that  circumstance,  the  Place 
de  CarrLre.  All  the  noble  ladies  in  Lorraine  came  from  their  Gothic 
castles  to  be  present  at  these  /V/f«,  where  all  the  beauty  and  chivalry  of 
France,  and  England,  and  Burgundy,  were  assembled.'  The  long-de- 
layed marriage  of  Margaret's  elder  sister  with  her  cousin.  Ferry  of 
Vaudemonte,  was  completetl  at  the  same  time,  under  the  following 
romantic  circumstances :  ^»  Ferry,  who  was  passionately  enamoured  of 
his  beautiful  fiancee^  Yolante,  to  whom  he  had  been  betrothed  upwards 
of  nine  years,  rendered  despt^rate  by  the  delays  of  her  father  (who  never 
intended  to  allow  her  to  fulHl  her  forced  engagement,  with  the  son  of 
his  adversary),  formed  and  executed  a  plan,  with  a  band  of  adventurous 
young  chevaliers,  for  carrying  her  oil*,  at  the  nuptial  tournament  of  het 
vounger  sister  Margaret.  King  Hene  was  very  angry  at  lirst,  but  was 
induced,  by  the  mediation  of  the  king  and  queen  of  France,  and  the  rest 
of  the  rf>yal  company,  to  forgive  the  gallant  trespass  of  the  long-de- 
frauded bridegroom ;  and  a  general  rcconciliatitm  took  place,  in  which 
ail  past  rancours  were  forgotten,  and  the  pageants  and  games  were  re- 
newed with  fresh  spirit.''* 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  eight  days'  fete,  Margaret  was  solemnly  de- 
livered to  the  marquess  and  marchioness  of  Suffolk,  and  took  a  mournful 
liirewell  of  her  weeping  kindred  and  friends.    ^  Never,"  say  the  chroni- 

*  Unrante.     Moii>tn'li*t.  ■^Vas^ul>urg.     Burauio 

•  Akhou  Sorol,  ihi.'  Rll-iK»wt*rfuI  nii:itres8  of  Clmrlos  VII..  who  li:ul  twolvf  year? 
previf»U!«ly  1mm*ii  maid  of  honour  to  queen  Mnrjpir«»t's  nioihcr.  riin«le  a  conjipit-uou* 
ft|i|>cariuirc  at  ihis  touruaineiit.  She  wan  calUvl  **tlie  I-iuly  of  B«*auty,*"  and  ^m 
tliif*  0(.'f*a.»ion  n.^sunicti  the  dress  of  an  Ania/.on,  Wfnrinf;  a  ^uit  of  fanciful  armour 
bIfixinK  ^'iib  jewels,  >n  which  she  came  on  the  (iround,  mounted  on  a  ^uperb 
cIiHTfrer,  s|iU*ndidly  caparisoned.  Such  were  the  nioraU  at  the  court  of  the  la^t 
ot'tlie  l*roven9al  bovert* i){n!s,  tliat  the  preneni-e  of  "X*!  ItclU  .^ifnr*,"'  far  frtmi  be- 
irifc  rctnirded  iia  an  inpult  to  the  vir|pn  brith',  in  whose  honour  the  tournament 
WB'^  held,  or  tn  htT  aunt  the  nuern  of  France  and  the  danphiuei(n,  was  couMdered 
lo  add  the  frreaie-t  etiut  tu  thi'/Kr«. — Baranle.  *  V  ilicncuvc.    Wa^»uburg. 

YOL.  III.  —  1 2 


Bar ;  there  he  comnieiiiied  her  to  Got: 
dMif(hter  could  speak  to  each  other,  b 
without  uttering  a  single  word.' 

These  regrets, — in  which  persons  \ 
restraints  of  royalty,  taught  to  conceal 
passionately  indulged  on  tiiis  occasion, 
amiable  and  endearing  qualities  of  the 
would  not  hare  been  so  deeply  lamenti 
a  precarious  and  care-clouded  home,  te 
tire  was,  at  that  time,  brilliant 

Margaret's  eldest  brother,  John  duk 
Alen^on,  attended  her  on  her  route,  I 
train,  as  queen  of  Elni^iand,  under  the  p 
folk  and  his  wife.'  This  lady,  who  we 
of  Geoffrey  Chaucer,  the  father  of  Eng 
to  cardinal  Beaufort,  and  was,  doubile 
him  as  the  chaperon^  or  state  governess 
If  was,  probably,  through  the  influence 
that  the  young  queen  fonned  that  invio 
the  princes  of  the  house  of  Beaufort,  \ 
auch  great  unpopularity. 

The  countess  of  Shrewsbury,  and 
also  in  the  personal  retinue  of  the  you 
five  barons  and  baronesses  in  attendanc 
services  4$,  6d.  per  day ;  seventeen  kn 
mt  2s.  M.  per  day.  Breknoke,  the  clerl 
those  of  his  coadiutor,  John  Everdon,  vi 


MAROARBT    OF     ANJOU.  135 

Sixty-fire  squires  receired  each  U.  6c2.  per  day;  174  valets  at  6d.  per 
day ;  nineteen  palfreymen  and  sumptermen  id.  per  day ;  and,  in  addition 
lo  those  who  received  wages,  many  persons  were  attached  to  tlic  suiUi 
who  served  gratuitously.' 

In  anticipation  of  Margaret's  arrival,  king  Henry  wrote  a  quaint  and 
earnest  letter  to  the  Goldsmith's  Company,  ^^  entreating  them  to  do  their 
devoir  at  the  coming  of  his  entirely  well-beloved  wife,  the  queen,  whom 
he  expected,  through  Go<i's  grace,  to  have  with  him  in  right  brief  time." 
This  letter  is  dated  Nov.  30th,  1444,  but  the  advent  of  the  royal  bride 
was  delayed  nearly  four  months. 

We  are  indebted  to  the  Breknoke  Computus  for  the  following  diary 
of  the  last  three  weeks  of  Iklargaret's  journey  to  England. 

^Pontoise,  March  18th.  This  day  the  lady  Margaret,  the  queen, 
came  with  her  family  to  supper  at  the  expense  of  our  lord  the  king. 
Cost,  12/.  lU.  Id. 

^Friday,  19th.  The  queen  went  to  sup  with  the  duke  of  York,  at 
Mantes.     Cost,  5/.  5«.  Id. 

^  Saturday,  20th.  To  dine  with  the  duke  of  York,  at  the  same  place. 
Cos^  4/.  75.  SJcL" 

These  were  important  days  in  the  journal,  not  only  of  the  bridal  pro 
gress,  but  in  the  life  of  Margaret  of  Anjou,  for  it  was  her  first  introduc- 
tion to  the  prince,  whose  rival  claims  to  her  husband's  throne  engen- 
dered those  deadly  animosities,  whicli  proved  in  the  end  fauil  to  them 
both.  The  entertainment  received  by  the  royal  bride  must  have  been 
agreeable  to  her,  as  she  repeated  her  visit.  We  gatlier  from  this  entry, 
that  Margaret's  acquaintance  with  the  duke  of  York  preceded  her  intro- 
duction to  the  king  her  husband.  On  the  20th,  she  proceeded  from 
Mantes  to  Venion,  where  she  slept.  On  the  23d  she  arrived  at  Rouen. 
There  is  an  item  of  is,  9d.  for  fourteen  pairs  of  shoes,  bevtowed  by 
Alargaret  on  various  poor  women,  on  her  journey  from  Mantes.  At 
Rouen  she  remained  a  week,  and  there  two  curious  entries  occur.  The 
first  certifies  the  fiict  that  the  young  queerf  made  purchase  of  some  arti- 
cles of  second-hand  plate,  of  a  goldsmith  of  that  town ;'  the  second,  that 
her  want  of  money  was  so  pressing,  that  she  was  compelled  to  pawn 
divers  vessels  of  mock  silver  to  the  duchess  of  Somerset^'  to  raise  funds 
for  some  of  the  expenses  of  her  journey. 

Haigaret  left  Rouen,  and  slept  at  Bokamshard  monastery,  March  31sL 

*  Breknoko  Computus. 

*  To  John  Tnbauite,  goldsmith,  at  Rouen«  ibr  taking  out  and  removing  the  arms 
of  Henrj  de  Luzembiirgh,  lately  chancellor  of  France,  fVom  sundry  silTer  vet- 
•els  bought  from  him  by  the  lady  the  queen,  together  with  ...  of  the  aforesaid 
■ilver  vessels,  and  the  polishing  of  the  same.  In  the  reward  given  to  him  on 
the  12th  day  of  March,  1445,  by  the  hands  of  William  Elmesley,  valet  of  the 
jewels  to  the  lord  the  king,  2/.  3«.  4d. — Breknokt  Computui. 

'  Tn  money  paid  to  Thomas  Dawson,  esq^  in  the  service  of  the  lady  dneheti 
of  Somerset,  coming  from  Rouen  to  London,  with  divers  vessels  of  mock  iihMTf 
belonging  to  the  lady  the  queen,  mortgaged  to  the  said  duchess  for  a  certain  sum 
€€  money  advanced  by  her,  for  the  wages  of  divers  mariners.  Sec.  In  reward  tO" 
him  Ibr  his  expenses  and  safe  carriage  of  the  said  vessels,  dbc,  2/.  13$,  id 
[This  entry  is  cancelled  in  the  origiual  MS.] — Ibid. 


The  nf<xt  dny  the  |ir<H-««](-i]  k>  Pimiitamdi'ur-,  itha  mohed  HttmUmt, 
April  3il.  There  iiIip  tmnaitiwl  peveml  days;  April  Htli.  a  small  Enclitli 
vcwcl.  called  llie  -Trinily.  «r  C'lkliMler,"  IranB|i(>rl«!  hrr  %nd  lit 
tuiU  lo  ili«  |K>rt  (if  KlJdcrawa,  where  the  "  Cokke  Johii,"  of  OicrburE, 
the  aliip  afipoiutcd  Tor  h«r  T»yagt,  had  been  long  wailing  hrj  arrital 
The  Brvknnkc  Otrnpuiui  provM  ■  pavrntnt  of  ft/.  4a,  ind.  lo  die  pilai 
Biieotling  in  ibe  •■  Cokke  John,"  ■)«»  to  the  purser  of  the  ■ame,  lal  6i. 
Bd.,  price  of  n  large  cable  b()ui;ht  by  hnii,  for  ihe  secnrily  oT  ifae  Kii 
■hip  whilsl  ridiiig  al  anelior  near  Kuldrcanrs,  and  of  0/.  7(.  for  makjnf 
couveniciicee  io  ihe  vessel — via.,  divera  rhainbera  and  cabin*,  aiitl  t 
bridge  fur  the  iiigrvei  and  egrese  of  the  la:)) -iiuerii.  These  shijie  kii 
been  in  coiuRiiMion  evef  einee  ihe  &th  of  September,  14  U.' 

Ma^arei'a  Iuri;  flejoani  on  the  continent  wtm  eaii-ted  by  the  niKeniiy 
of  the  king  fuinmoniii^  a  new  pttrlmmeni,  fur  the  purpose  of  ohnmiirg 


tlie  iieedftil  t 


dies  for  his 


Riarnage, 


It  met  at  VVfm 


irisier,  Fehnnrv 


I 


VSih,  1443.      I  he  king  rein<dne<l  «e«lH  in  hi«  chair  of  state,  while  la 
chaaeellur  Stafford.  Hrelihishop  of  Canterbury,  explnioed  the  otaie  {at 
whirh  pnrliainciit  was  suminoiied,  in  a  speries  of  political  aennoo,  eom- 
mciiciii^  with  ihia   text,  "Justice  and  pence  bnvc   kissed  each  otli«r.'' 
He  then  prnceeiled  to  notify  llie  9u«pi-i)«i(in  of  hoatihties  in  Prance,  and 
tlie  marriage  between  the  kiiig  and  MarKarel,  dnuuhter  of  ilie  kin*  of 
Sicily ;  **  hy  which  two  liappy  eventfj  ht;  ntHliiiif  doubled  bu',  (hmu!*) 
Ood's  grace,  jusiice  and  |>eace  ^lould  be  limdy  esiablishi.v'  ■'-  ■  -r''    ' 
the  realm .*"     The  parliament  grwited  a  half-fifWnth  on    ,' 
goods  lo  the  kiuK.  to  defray  the  expenses  of  the  Intr  en. 
the  iruee  with  Ftauee  and  his  marriage,  and  leas  then  prnr... 
S(hh  of  April,  to  allow  the  neceaMry  interval  fur  the  ami-al  <ii  iiii^  ju-w 
queen,  and  the  ■olernnizaiion  of  i)io  loyal  nuptials. 

There  is  a  curious  ilociinieiit  in  the  Pteden,  in  wiiich  tbe  needy  late- 
reign  makes  an  assignment  of  part  of  his  haltgfteenih.  granieci,  bot  di» 
yet  msed,  to  n  ceruun  kniglit,  liir  the  purehnae  nf  liia  jewel  of  Sl 
George,  and  aim  aa  secuniy  fur  the  sum  of  two  thoUMnd  niiHih 
**  wliicli,"  myv  Henry,  ■'  our  beluTcd  knight  has  now  lent  us  in  jmS 
(ready)  money,  at  the  conteinpkiiun  of  the  coming  of  our  mo«i  bcal 
beloved  wife  the  queen,  now  into  our  presence." 

The  records  in  the  Kwdera,  from  the  Pell  Hull,  tSA  of  Henry  Vl^ 
bear  melancholy  testlmcin)'  to  the  uiter  destitution  of  ibe  myul  urn? 
purse  at  this  period,  and  the  pitiable  expedients  In  which  the  unlorKi- 
uaie  sovereign  waa  reduced,  in  onler  lo  meet  his  bridal  expenses.  Auong 
oihor  items,  there  ia  an  order  directing  •■  that  the  rcmuuiiig  thin)  |»n 
of  one  of  the  orown  jewels,  ealled  the  ■  rich  collar'  (which  had  slrwdy 
been  broken  and  pledgetl,  in  two  sepamle  picrn,  to  his  uncle  cardio*! 
Beaufort,  for  two  iliousantl  uinrks,  in  ihe  liine.  as  Henry  jtathetialh 
AbMrvea,  *of  our  great  ueceisily';  should  be  deiivereil  to  the  eaid  moil 
Wonhipfol  father  in  Gud,  and  a  patent  made  out  sticuniig  to  hint  tlit 
"*  two  pans,  and  f..r  the  delivery  of  the  thirti."  This  jewel  *»* 
redeemed  by  the  impoveri"hod  king,  who  wae,  in  fact,  compdW 


f  weie  paid  u&  u 


li  -A  kvr&,  VUrii. 


'iWliameaMt;  HiaBtf. 


MAKOARBT    OP    ARJOC.  137 

to  pftwn  all  his  private  jewels  and  household  plate,  to  provide  the  equi- 
pages and  other  iiifhspensable  articles  i^uirct],  for  his  iiiarri:ige,  and  the 
coronation  of  the  young  queen. 

The  wars  so  ruthlessly  carried  on  with  France  for  lb'*  third  of  a  cen- 
tury, had  made  the  English  crown  nearly  bankrupt.  Henry  cmild  with 
difficulty  keep  his  royal  state,  though  he  was  anxious  that  «i  great  dis- 
play should  be  made  to  welcome  his  bride.  Povf  rty  was  the  plague 
which  pursue<]  Margaret  all  her  life,  at  her  father^s  court,  and  was  ready 
lo  receive  her  in  Henry's  palace. 

The  funds  necessary  for  her  reception  having  been  at  length  obtained, 
the  royal  bride  enibarkcd  with  her  train,  as  pieviously  mentioned,  .\pril 
8th«  and  on  the  following  day  landed  at  Porchester.  She  was  so  much 
indisposed  with  the  voyage,  that  Suff()lk  carried  her  from  the  boat  to  the 
shore  in  his  arms.  A  terrible  storm  gietucd  .Margaret  of  Anjou,  almost 
as  soon  as  she  set  foot  on  shore.  But  the  people,  notwithstanding  the 
thunder  and  lightning,  ran  in  crowds  to  look  at  her,  anil  the  men  of 
Porchester  courteously  strewetl  their  streets  with  rushes,  for  her  to  pass 
over.  She  was  conducted  to  a  convent  at  P«>rtsmouth,  called  Ginlde's 
House,  where,  having  reposed  a  little,  she  entered  the  church,  and  there 
made  her  oblation  of  6s.  Sd,  The  followintr  duv,  Saturday,  10th,  she 
was  conveyed  by  water  to  Southampton  with  great  stale.  The  sum  of 
I/.  35.  4d.  was  {mid  lo  seven  foreign  trumpeters, '*  for  playing  on  the 
decks  of  two  Genoese  galleys,  as  they  jxissed  our  lady-<piefn  between 
Portsmouth  and  Southumpto'i.^'  Margaret  was  conveyed  by  rowing. 
At  S<mlhampton,  as  well  as  at  Portsmouth,  the  youiii;  queen  lodgetl 
in  a  relii;ious  hospital,  called  Ginlde^s  Hous**.'  Ili-re  she  was  seized 
with  a  dan{rt*n)us  cutaneous  nialady,  wliirh  from  kini;  HcMiry^s  quaint 
and  homely  description  of  its  symptoms,  in  his  letttT  to  liis  cliancellor, 
appears  to  have  b(>en  no  other  tiian  the  small-pox'  This  sickness  **  of 
his  most  dear  and  best  beloved  wife  the  <|ucen ''  is  stated  by  Henry  lo 
be  the  cause  why  he  could  not  krep  the  feast  of  St.  George,  at  ^Viruisor 
Castle.'  He  had  been  waiting  some  days  at  South wirk,  to  welcome  his 
long-ex |iec ted  bride,  and  ren^ained  there  in  anxious  suspense,  during  the 

Eeriod  of  her  alarming  illness,  till  she  was  su:ririently  recovered  to  join 
im  there. 
••  In  the  Breknoke  Computus  we  have  the  following  entry  of  money 
paid  to  master  Francis,  the  physician,  who  had  atirnded  xhv  quern  on 
her  journey  and  voyage  to  England,  for  divers  spices,  confeclious,  and 
pouflers,  bitught  and  provided  by  him,  for  making  mt'dicines  for  the 
safe  keeping  of  the  person  of  the  said  lady  th(>  (picen.  as  well  by  land 
as  by  sea,  by  precept  of  the  man]uess  of  Siitlolk,  ut  Southampton,  on 
the    lUih  day  of  April,   in   the   23d  year  of  the  ri'ign   of  the  king, 

'The  hoiisx*  (it'  iliist  name  nt  Portjiinouth.  wa.<  Imiiiilivl  hy  Pctor  ({o  Kii|jibu«, 
bi^iup  ill  \\  iiK-iifrter ;  wiiii»t  CiiKi  k  Hou»e  at  N>utliiiiii|iUiii  wa»  1'uuiulei.l  by  two 
Bien'it:iiit«.  Ui'di  wrro  tvriiird  "  liobpitulss  ai>*i  wt-re  I'loe  tu  all  sick  iravcilcxa, 
lioiii  thf  tiuinbU'.-t  vnyav^i'r  to  the  monarch  or  his  brilIt^ 

'  PreULc  to  tfir  ilarri>  Niculad'  Acts  of  the  Privy  Council,  vol.  i.  p.  18. 

•Ibi-1.  p.  10. 


queen,  for  ilivers  atlairs  loucnmi^  me  sai 
H^Difiir  uikI  coiiiiiii^,  by  gift  ot*  the  queen 

The  iiupiiald  of  Margaret  of  Anjou 
on  the  *i'J(i  of  April,  1445,  in  Tichlicl 
been  made  in  tlie  preceding  January,  fr 
a  fair  ruby,  whirli  had  fonnerly  been  p 
cardinal  Beaufort,  ^'  with  the  which/'  1: 
day  of  our  coronation  at  Paris/'     A  je 

The  beautiful  young  queen  receive 
on  the  orcahion  of  her  bridal,  a  presei 
characteriMtic  otlering  of  a  lion,  and  t 
speciticii  the  cost  incurred  by  the  a 
charges  of  the  houselioid  : — ^*  To  Joh 
the  food  and  keeping  of  a  lion,  presen' 
field,  together  with  the  carriage  of  tl 
Tower  of  London,  for  the  expenses 
2/.  5ji.  3c/." 

Margaret  had  completed  her  fifteent 
her  marriage  with  king  Henry ;  and,  i 
of  the  nation  at  her  want  of  dower,  tl 
lier  father,  and  the  prejudice  created 
royal  family  of  France,  her  youth,  he 
cured  her  an  enthusiastic  welcome  whi 
pressed  in  crowds  to  gaze  upon  her,  a 
England  wore  her  emblem-ilower,  the 
of  estate,  when  they  came  with  the 
sumptuous  liveries,  in  all  the  pomp  a 


«  •   •  1 


«  dcligH 


Kinji  Henry. 

her  emblem-llov 

Byn 


1 


■abgarbt  c 

"Of  eiilieiHX  who  doth 

cumplimeiil  lt>  his  lovely  and  beloved  consorl,  can 
r  to  be  enamelled  and  engraved  on  his  pluie. 
Marj^aret  irealed  with  more  peculinr  marka  ol*  respeal|.j 
on  tier  bridal  progress,  iIjhii  by  ihe  duke  of  Gloucester,  who,  as  if  ' 
■tone  for  liis  opposilioii  to  her  marriage  with  liia  royal  nepheWi, 
men  hrr  at  Blackhealh,  wiih  live  hundred  men  wearing  his  livery  and 
badge,  to  do  her  honour,'  and  so  conducted  her  to  hia  palace  at  Greeii- 
wichi  where  ahe  was  refreshed.  Greai  preparations  bod  been  made  in 
London  aud  iiB  vicinity,  for  the  reception  of  the  young  queen.  Tii> 
uniptial  arches  were  erected  across  the  road  through  which  she  was  H» 
paas,  and  "  many  cosily  pageants  were  made  ready."  aavs  Fabyan,  "  tt 
divers  old  histories,  to  her  gieal  comfort,  and  thai  of  such  aa  canM 
■  iih  her." 

Oit  llie  2aih  of  May,  queen  Margaret  was  met  at  Blackheath  by  on 
leslrian  procession,  consisting  of  the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  sheril&  of 
.■le  Ctly  of  London,  in  scarlet,  anil  the  crai\s  of  tlie  same,  all  riding  on 
horseback,  in  blue  gowns,  with  embroidered  sleeves,  and  red  hooda, 
who  cuiiveyed  her  with  her  train  through  Suulhwnrk,  and  so  on  to  the 
city  of  London,  which  was  then  beautified  with  pageants  of  divers  his- 
tories and  other  shows  of  welcome,  marvellous  cosily  and  sumpluotu, 
of  which  I  can  only  name  a  few.  At  tlie  bridge-foul  towards  SouUw 
wmrk  nus  a  pageant  of  Peace  and  Plenty;  and  at  every  street-corner,  in 
allitsion  to  the  lent  of  the  parliamentary  sermon,  two  puppets,  in  a 
moving  pageant,  called  Justice  and  Peace,  were  made  to  kiss  each  other. 
Noah's  ^liip  ^the  atk)  upon  the  bridge,  with  verses  in  English,  At  Lead- 
en hall.  Madam  Giace,  the  chancellor  of  God.  At  the  inn  in  Co[iihill,St 
Margaret.  At  the  great  conduit  in  Cheapaide,  the  live  wise  and  five 
ilish  virgins.  Ai  the  cross  in  the  Cheap,  the  Heavenly  Jeiusalem, 
verses.  At  Paul's  Gate,  the  General  Itesun-ection  and  Judgment 
verses  accordingly,  all  made  by  John  Lydgate."* 
_  Margaret  was  crowned  at  Westminster,  May  3i>lh,  with  a  degree  of 
royal  splendour  litdc  suited  to  the  exhausted  irfcasury  of  her  enamoured 
ConHort  1  but  doubtless  to  the  no  small  saliBfaetion  of  the  faithful  stew* 
ard.  squire,  and  minstrels  of  her  father,  who  came  to  witness  the  euro* 
nation  of  their  princess,  and  report  the  same  in  their  own  liind. 

A  few  notices  of  the  grants  bestowed  on  those  hungry  .'\iijevimi  and 
Italians  are  to  be  found  in  ibe  Issue  Rolls.'    In  addition  lo  all  the  aplen- 

'  .ViuoiiK  ilic  rroeuily  puhlislied  lecurdu  of  the  royal  jewels,  we  lliui  IbMe  ea- 
■rips: — "llcni,  one  laltuellar  of  gold,  and  cover,  enainrllad  wiih  Ihe  srin«  of  lbs 
kjag  and  iha  Ooweti  called  Margucciies.  ilie  bou  gaiiii>hed  with  ona  balass, 
ipien  l>f  Ilia  lord  kiii);  lo  ijuaen  Matipuel.  Likewise  b  piloher  or  jujf  of  gold, 
dw  fcot  mi'nithed  wiih  a  sapphire,  Kiveu  by  the  king  lo  queen  Marearel. 
■  'Slow'*  Annal*.  'Slow. 

t**TD  Jotin  d'EwHMB,  so  esquire  of  ihe  king  of  Sicily,  who,  as  Iha  subfcot  of 
't,  len  Ids  own  ocDupations  aluwirl,  and  come  in  the  rjneMl'* 
M  the  cetemuny  of  her  canmatioD,  in  niDDey  paid  W  hiin,  OAL 
'  Luuislieii  of  Uiu  kiuK  cif  £iuily,  wIhi  IdIcIj  gi 


Marg 


I 


folk,  ami  other  poors.  When  the  ami 
tiuls,  the  kini;  raised  his  hat  a  little  fro 
addressed  their  speech  to  him  on  th<? 
and  ^ood-uill  borne  him  hy  his  inirh 
Imt  from  his  head,  and  said  several 
thanks  to  St.  John.'  lie  then  told  th 
^Tbat  he  did  not  hold  them  as  strange 
hold  of  his  uncle  of  France,  whom,  o 
the  quetMi  his  wife,  he  loved  the  best.' 

'•The  followinir  day  after  the  arriva 
an  andienre  in  his  privy  chamber.  Th 
ri»be  of  black  velvet  The  real  object 
the  two  years'  truce  into  a  permanent 
ject  hy  trreat  j)rotessions  of  love  and  a 
nephew,  and  apolojries  for  the  lon^j  de 
added,  *  that  they  now  came  to  inquire 
both  much  joy  and  a  long-continued  p 
might  be  established  between  the  kini 
land.'  Henry  n*peated  (probably  tr 
nobles,  with  a  countenance  full  of  sali 
amlKtssadors«  ^That  he  had  great  joy  i 
mighty  king  his  uncle,  whom  he  lovei 

witness  the  :>tate  and  fj^rand  solemnity  on  tl 
to  make  a  re|>ort  thertsjf,  10/.  each.     To 
whi»  rann*  on  the  same  errundf  to  report  th 
their  country,  ilie  kinj:,  hy  the  advice  of  his 
paid    five   marks.     To  John  de  Sorrencourt 


XAKOARST    OF    ANiOU*  Ml 

irorld,  excepting  the  queen  his  wife^  ant]  that  he  desired  the  continoQiiee 
»f  pence  beyoad  any  thing  on  earth  ;^  to  which  all  present  responded 
Anien.^ " 

^  Henry  then  called  the  ambassadors  close  to  him^  and  conrersed 
rith  thpin  famiharly.  Suilblk  repeated,  that  Uie  king  loved  his  uncle 
)f  France  ilie  secuml  best  in  the  world,  on  which  Henry  exclaimed  in 
liUiKli>*h, '  Sl  John,  yes  r  " 

Exteosiye  repairs  and  improvements  bad  been  made  in  all  the  royal 
palaces  previously  to  Margaret^s  arrival.  This  was  very  necessary :  foi 
90  many  years  had  elapsed  since  a  queen-consort  had  held  her  suite  in 
EIngland,  that  those  portions  of  the  abodes  of  royalty,  known  by  the 
BMDe  of  ^  the  queen's  lodgings,'^  were  absolutely  desolated  and  unfit 
Cor  her  reception,  till  a  considerable  outlay  had  been  expended  upon 
iheni.  The  royal  residences  at  the  Tower,  Westminster,  Eltham,  and 
8l«ene,  in  particular,  were  restored  to  tlieir  pristine  splendour,  in  honoui 
of  the  new  queen.* 

For  the  two  first  years  of  Margaret  of  Anjou's  union  with  Henry  VI., 
cairdinal  Beaufort  was  tlie  supreme  director  of  the  power  of  the  crown. 
KiDg  Henry,  new  to  the  delights  of  female  society,  was  intoxicated  with 
the  charms,  the  wit,  and  graceful  nuinners  of  his  youthful  bride,  of 
whom  an  elegant  French  historian  thus  speaks:  —  ^England  had  never 
•eeo  a  queen  more  worthy  of  a  throne  than  Margaret  of  Anjou.  No 
woman  surpassed  her  in  beauty,  and  few  men  equalled  her  in  courage. 
It  aeemed  as  if  she  had  been  formed  by  Heaven  to  supply  to  her  royal 
husband  the  qualities  which  he  required,  in  order  to  become  a  great 
kuig.**''  Another  chronicler,  quoted  by  Stow,  says — ^This  woman  ez« 
eelled  all  others,  as  well  in  beauty  and  favour  as  in  art  and  policy,  and 
was  in  courage  inferior  to  none." 

These  brilliant  characteristics  were  yet  in  the  germ,  when  Margaret 
of  Anion  was  unfortunately  called  to  share  the  throne  of  England  at  a 
period  of  life  when  her  judgment  was  immature,  and  the  perilous  endow- 
ments  of  wit,  genitis,  and  lively  perceptiveness,  were  more  likely  to 
ereate  enemies  than  to  secure  friends.  Slie  had  been  deeply  piqued  and 
oftnded  at  the  opposition  the  duke  of  Gloucester  had  made  to  her  mar- 
riage, and,  with  the  petulance  of  a  spoiled  child,  she  took  every  occa- 
sion of  mortifying  him,  by  a  foolish  display  of  her  unbounded  infiuenoe 
orer  the  king,  and  her  regard  for  cardinal  Beaufort  and  tlie  duke  of 
Sufiblk,  his  sworn  foes. 

To  cardinal  Beaufort,  indeed,  she  was  indebted  for  her  elevation  to 
the  pride  and  power  of  royalty,  and,  with  all  the  devotion  of  a  young 
heart,  she  resigned  herself  wholly  to  hia  direction.  Independently  of 
political  considerations,  cardinal  Beaufort  was  exceedingly  fond  of 
Margaret,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  his  house  in  Walthain  Forest, 
where  there  was  a  state  chamber  magnificently  fitted  up  for  her  sole  use, 

•  Acu  of  die  Privy  Council,  by  sir  H.  Nicolass  \*ol.  vi.  p.  32,  'Hie  |>ovcrty  of 
Heiiry  VI.'i  exchequer  at  tliis  period  is  deplorably  cvidenccf)  hy  the  piteous 
sapplicmtion  of  William  Clcve,  chaplain  to  the  king  and  clerk  nf  the  works, 
■•te  money  to  pay  the  poor  laliourers  their  weekly  wages,**  whirh,  he  8tate% 
•^hm  has  the  utmost  |min  and  difllculty  to  purvey.  *Orlcuii\a. 


ininiiiters  ot  kiii^  Henry  having  buj«i 
dared  not  venture  in  the  virinity  of 
destrurtion  of  the  duke  of  Gloucestei 
the  heir- presumptive  to  the  throne. 
to  counlerart  t!ie  queenly  influence,  ha 
to  make  common  cause  with  the  duke 
lately  superaedeii  in  his  office  of  reg« 
his  enemv  the  duke  of  Someiset,  cardii 
historians  it  has  been  supposed,  that  it 
ous  to  the  government  of  king  Henry, 
whom  his  cabinet  was  composed,  det 
■elves  of  their  formidable  opponent.' 
Bury  with  their  court,  and  all  the  C( 
moned  to  attend  the  king  there,  in  thei 
that  some  danger  to  tlie  royal  person  i 

The  parliament  met«  February  10th 
Abbey.  The  session  was  openeii,  not 
Staflbrd,  archbiHhop  of  Canterbury." 
ceedcd  smoothly;  a  speaker  was  ch< 
Margaret^s  revenues  of  4600/.  13«.,  out 
and  herediuiments  settled  on  her  for 
second  day  of  tlie  session,  all  England 
the  duke  of  Gloucester  on  a  charge 
mitted  to  close  custody  under  a  stro 
king  had  of  his  nucleus  guilti^'  says  ^ 
but  nothing  could  persuade  him  of  his 

Seventeen  days  aAer  his  arrest,  thi 


MAHGAHBT    OF    ANaOV.  143 

cm]  J  WM  produced  in  both  houses  of  parliament,  and  exposed  to  pnblic 
ieiv  for  several  days;  but  these  measures  failed  to  remove  the  sus- 
cions  which  so  sudden  a  death,  under  such  circumstances,  naturally 
ccited  throughout  Eng[land.  No  actual  proof,  however,  exists,  that  he 
ma  murdered,  and  Whethampstede,  a  contemporary  and  warm  partisan 
r  Gloucester,  states,  ^  that  he  died  of  an  illness  that  seized  him  on  his 
Test ;"  so  does  William  of  Worcester ;  and  no  writer  of  that  period 
tempts  to  implicate  the  queen,  as  a  party  concerned  in  that  transaction. 
ftpin,  indeed,  suffers  his  prejudices  against  Margaret  to  betray  him  into 
le  following  unauthenticated  assertions,  as  to  her  share  in  the  supposed 
ivrder.  After  stating  that  Henry's  ministers  had  resolved  to  compass 
le  destruction  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  he  says — ^  The  queen,  who 
«i  of  a  bold  and  enterprising  genius,  was  the  person  who  first  en- 
>uniged  this  resolution.  At  least,  the  historians  insinuate  as  much,  if 
my  have  not  said  it" 

Who  these  historians  are,  Rapin  has  not  thought  proper  to  inform  his 
Mdera ;  but,  in  the  same  conclusive  strain  of  reasoning,  he  proceeds  to 
ij— -^And,  indeed,  the  ministry  would  never  have  ventured  upon  such 
a  action,  without  having  her  at  their  head.'^ 

A  responsible  leader,  in  sooth,  would  a  girl  of  queen  Margaret's  age 
■re  made,  in  a  business  of  that  kind ;  if,  indeed,  cardinal  Beaufort,  who 
•d  treasured  up  the  accumulated  rancours  of  six-and-twenty  years  of 
nquenchable  hatred  against  Gloucester,  and  before  she  was  biom  had 
iieatened  to  decide  their  deadly  quarrel  ^by  setting  England  on  » 
dd,***  would  have  asked  her  sanction  for  wreaking  his  long-cherished 
engeance  on  his  adversar}'.  Did  Rapin  remember  that  these  ministers, 
f  whom  cardinal  Beaufort  was  the  master-spirit,  were  the  same  people, 
rfao,  three  years  before  Margaret  of  Anjou  set  her  foot  in  England,  had 
erised,  and  successfully  carried  into  effect,  the  subtlest  plot  that  ever 
imagined,  against  the  duchess  of  Gloucester  ?'  and  could  they  have 
the  prompting  and  advice  of  a  girl  of  seventeen,  to  work  out 
lieir  scheme  of  vengeance  on  the  duke,  of  which  that  blow  was  the 
ore  prelude  ?  There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  destruction  of  the  duke 
f  Gloucester  would  have  been  accomplished,  if  Margaret  of  Anjou  had 
lever  entered  this  country ;  and  it  is  scarcely  probable  tliat  she  was  even 
Binisted  with  so  important  a  secret,  since  her  greatest  misfortunes  were 
■used  by  unguarded  manifestations  of  her  prejudices  and  partialitieS| 
sr  which  she  is  greatly  condemned  by  Philip  de  Comines,  her  contem- 
oiarj. 

Within  eight  weeks  a(\er  the  death  of  Gloucester,  cardinal  Beaufort 

*8ee  eardiiwl  Besafort's  letter  to  the  duke  of  Bedford,  1426,  in  the  old  Cbroni 
les,  and  Parliameotary  History,  where  there  is  a  curious  account  of  the  qumr 
•Is  between  Beaufort  and  Gloucester. 

"The  accusation  and  disgrace  of  Eleanor  Cobbam,  duchess  of  Gloucester,  are 
lO  fkmiliar  to  every  reader  to  require  recapitulation.  Beaufort,  Suffolk,  and  the 
nhbishop  of  Canterbury,  were  her  judges.  Many  persons,  and  even  school 
Isiorfes,  misled  by  Shakspeare,  are  iUlly  persuaded  that  Margaret  of  A^joa 
then  a  child  in  Lorraine)  effected  the  disgrace  and  ruin  of  tlie  duchetf  ot 
IIOQcester. 


VI     bill,     ivniiii   «  «'iiii\iiiit;    iitii'tiii't.a   \ft     kii< 

Uie  iict*t'>.siiy  of  restraint  and  concea 
doubtless,  acteil  uitli  lite  best  intentii 
Eui(laiiii,  iiisUMfl  of  ullyiiii;  berseif 
favuurilers  slie  resiif^iied  benieir  to  tbe 
iavourite  uncle  and  counrdlor,  a  mai 
years,  and  reputation  for  wi»dom.  A 
quainied  as  she  was  with  the  niannei 
consortia  subjertik  continued  her  confic 
at  the  iiead  of  which  was  her  iirst  £n| 
duke  of  Suffolk. 

Sbakspcare  has  f^'eatly  misled  hip 
oetw^cen  this  unpopular  minister  and  A 
her  first  as  liis  prisoner,  and,  al\er  hei 
paramour.  Tbe  one  she  certainly  nei 
their  ages  renders  the  other  very  unlik 
his  acquaintance  with  the  royal  beaut; 
at  her  father's  court,  far  from  being  th 
and  romance  have  portrayed,  was  a  g= 
had  served  tbirtv-four  years  in  the  Fn 
a  member  of  Ilcnrv  VI.'s  cabinet.  H 
the  shady  side  of  fifty  when  he  actec 
nuptials  of  3Iargaret  of  Anjou.  Suffol 
married  man,  devotedly  attached  to 
place  of  honour  about  the  person  o. 
death,  his  duchess  continued  to  retai 
rourt  of  Margaret^  where  she  appears 


XAROARBT    Of    ARiOU.  145 

lion  of  the  truce  with  France  left  the  goverament  of  her  royal  husband 
the  alternative  of  fulfilling  the  conditions  of  the  treaty  on  which  it  was 
oaned,  or  renewing  the  war  without  the  means  of  supporting  the  honour 
of  England. 

Not  even  that  consummate  politician,  cardinal  Beaufort,  had  ventured 
to  declare  to  the  parliament  the  secret  article  by  which  Maine,  the  key 
of  Normandy,  was  to  be  restored  to  the  house  of  Anjou ;  and  now  the 
responsibility  of  that  article  fell  on  SuiTblk  and  the  queen.  Most  unfor- 
tunate it  was  for  Maigaret,  that  her  own  family  were  the  parties  who 
received  the  benefits  of  these  sacrifices,  for  which  her  misjudging  inter- 
ference in  the  government  at  this  crisis  rendered  her  acconnuible,  ihorgh 
they  had  been  solemnly  guaranteed  by  king  Henry  and  his  council,  at 
the  treaty  of  Tours,  before  she  was  even  affianced  to  him. 

Bellicose  as  the  character  of  Margaret  of  Anjou  became  in  after  years, 
when  the  stormy  temper  of  the  times,  aud  the  nature  of  the  circum- 
•Innces  with  which  she  had  to  contend,  kindled  all  the  energies  of  her 
•pint  into  Amazonian  fierceness,  not  even  her  meek  and  saintly  consort 
laboured  more  earnestly,  at  this  period,  than  herself,  to  preserve  that 
of  which  her  own  strong  sense  taught  her  England  was  in  such 


.  During  the  brief  interval  that  preceded  the  ruinous  war  into  which 
the  government  of  England  was  soon  after  forced,  Margaret  commenced 
tbe  foundation  of  Queen^s  College,  Cambridge.  This  college  was  dedi- 
cnted  to  the  honour  of  Almighty  God,  by  the  royal  foundress,  and  de- 
voted by  her  to  the  increase  of  learning  and  virtue,  under  the  tutelary 
auspices  of  St.  Maigaret,  her  patroness,  and  St.  Bernard.  The  first  stone 
WM  laid  by  sir  John  (afterwards  lord)  Wenlock,  in  behalf  of,  and  as 
deputy  for,  queen  Maigaret,  with  this  inscription  in  Latin  : — 

^  The  Loiti  shall  be  a  refuge  to  our  sovereign  lady,  queen  Margaret, 
and  this  stone  shall  be  for  a  token  of  the  same.'' ' 

Maigaret  also  sought  to  turn  the  attention  of  the  people  to  manufac- 
tares  in  woollen  and  silk ;  but  the  temper  of  the  times  suited  not  the  calm 
tenor  of  peaceful  employments.  A  spirit  of  adventurous  enterprise  had 
been  nourished  during  the  French  wars,  and,  from  the  princes  of  the 
Uood-rojral  to  the  peasantry,  there  was  a  thirsting  for  fighting  fields,  and 
a  covetous  desire  of  appropriating  the  spoils  of  plundered  towns  and 
castlea,  pervading  all  classes.  The  very  misery  of  the  people  of  Eng- 
luid  rendered  them  combative,  and  eager  to  exchange  the  monotony  of 

■  Thii  college  was  involved  in  the  mi^fortnnet  of  iu  foundress,  but  was  pre- 
MTved  by  the  care  of  Andrew  Ducket,  a  Cannelite  friar,  who  for  forty  years  held 
the  office  of  provosL  Queen  Margaret  made  over  to  her  college  possessions  to 
the  amount  of  20(U.,  which,  though  no  mean  sum  in  those  days,  was  but  a  slen- 
der endowment ;  but  her  liberal  destigns  were  not  frustrated.  What  she  began  ^ 
was  continued  and  complete<l  by  Elizabedi,  consort  to  king  E<lward  IV.  The 
vsual  similarity  between  the  armorial  bearings  of  founders,  and  of  their  found*- 
tkma,  is  obser\-able  in  the  arms  of  Queen's  College.  Tlie  only  difl'erence  be- 
tween the  arms  of  Margaret,  as  given  in  "^  Regal  Heraldry,"  and  those  of  the 
oullege,  as  now  borne,  are,  that  the  college  arms  are  surrounded  by  a  Wiisrs 

TOL.  III. —  IS  K 


r^ii^ii:*!!    iuirc:«,  uiiurr   iiie   coiniiiaiKi 
rather  to   general    history   than   to  t 
althoiis^h  they  had  a  fatal  influcnre  on 
object  of  8uspiri«>n  ami  ill-will  to  t 
Frenchwoman  to  be  applied  to  her  a.s 
well  knew  the  art  of  appealing  to  the 
flions,  of  the  vult^ar  apiinst  her.     Th* 
iailed  not  to  attribute  all  tlie  losses 
misgovemiiient  of  the  queen,  insinuati 
cloister  than  a  throne,  and  had,  in  a  m. 
the  aflairs  of  his  kin<nioni  in  the  han* 
his  name  to  conceal  her  usurpation,  sii 
Imnd,  a  queen-consort  hath  no  power, 
willing  to  procure  the  absence  of  the  ( 
increased  his  political  power  by  inves' 
Ireland.     York  had  left  a  strong  party 
were  those  |>owerful  nobles,  Richard  '. 
son,  the  earl  of  Warwick,  the  brother  a 
were  the  great  political  opponents  of 
not  publicly  to  attack,  otherwise  than 
pie  against  the  measures  of  the  court,  e 
of  the  countr}'  to  the  treasonable  praci 
Sutfolk  boldly  stood  up  in  the  IIou; 
^  he  had  been  traduced  hy  public  repoi 
if  they  had  aught  to  lay  to  his  char 
crimes."'     He  adverted  to  the  services 
formed  for  their  country,  and  stated 
brethren  had  been  slain  in  France;  th 
wars  thirty-four  years,  and,  being  but 
soner,*  he  had  oaid  20.i)00  cr«>wn«  fnr 


MABCIARBT    OF    AHIOU.  147 

order  of  the  Garter  thirty  years,  and  a  councillor  of  the  kin^  fifteeo 
irs,  and  had  been  seventeen  years  in  the  wars  wiihotit  returning  home; 
I  asking  God^s  mercy,  as  he  had  been  true  to  the  king  and  realm,  he 
uired  his  poigation."* 

t  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  any  thing  more  frivolous  than  the 
iea  of  articles  which  were  exhibited  against  the  luckless  premier.  In 
first  of  these^  he  is  charged  with  ^^  having  intended  to  marry  his  son 
in  to  Margaret  Beaufort,  the  heiress  of  the  late  John  duke  of  Somer- 
.  with  the  design  of  murdering  and  destroying  the  king,  and  then  de- 
ring  her  to  be  the  heiress  of  the  crown,  for  lack  of  heirs  of  the  king^s 
ly.'"  This  most  absurd  accusation  is  in  itself  a  refutation  of  all  the 
ndalons  imputations  which  modern  historians  have  cast  upon  the 
ndahip  between  the  duke  of  Suffolk  and  queen  Mai^ret,  since  her 
B  must  have  been  comprehended  in  the  murder  and  destruction  of  the 
g.  Margaret  was,  at  that  period,  only  nineteen ;  and,  though  child- 
I  at  yet,  there  was  a  possibility  of  her  having  many  children,  as  she 
I  considered  one  of  the  finest  women  in  the  world.  It  was,  perhaps, 
I  Tery  article  which  first  gave  the  aspiring  family  of  Beaufort  an  eye 
the  succession  to  the  throne,  in  the  event  of  a  failure  of  the  royal 
atagenet  line  of  Lancaster.  The  accusation  was  treated  with  infinite 
ilempt  by  Suffolk ;  and  his  replies  to  the  other  articles  being  such  as 
bsiffle  his  enemies,  they,  at  the  end  of  three  weeks,  exhibited  eighteen 
ih  charges  against  him  ;  but  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  neither  in  these, 
r  in  the  previous  catalogrue  of  misdemeanours,  is  there  the  slightest 
ision  to  queen  Margaret,  nor  is  her  name  mentioned  in  any  record  or 
itemporary  chronicle  in  connexion  with  Sufii>lk;  not  even  in  the 
irical  anonymous  verses  that  were  circulated  on  the  arrest  and  impri- 
iment  of  that  unpopular  minister.* 

Tet  Rapin  and  other  modem  writers  have  not  scrupled  to  assert,  ^^  that 
een  Mai^ret,  in  her  anxiety  to  preserve  her  favourite,  caused  the  par- 
nent,  on  his  arrest,  to  be  prorogued  to  Leicester,  where  he  attended 
1^  Henry  and  herself,  and  appmed  publicly  in  his  place  as  prime 
nwter.^'  Now  the  incontestable  evidence  of  the  records  of  parliament 
>Te,  that  the  parliament  was  summoned  to  meet  at  Leicester,  Septem- 
'j  1449,  five  months  before  the  arrest  of  SuflS>lk;  but  the  peers  and 
nmons,  taking  warning  by  the  events  of  the  parliament  that  sat  at 
ry  St.  Edmunds,  refused  to  meet  any  where  but  at  Westminster/ 
lerefore  the  writs  were  re-issued,  commanding  them  to  meet  at  West 
aster,  November  6th.  The  same  day  they  were  prorogued  to  Lon- 
D,  on  account  of  the  plague ;  adjourned  from  London  again  to  West- 
nster,  December  4th  ;  and  on  the  17th  adjourned  till  January  22d,^  at 
Mtminster,  where  SuflToIk,  as  we  have  seen,  in  a  fatal  hour  for  himself, 

my  make  you  one.  Tor  I  cannot  otherwise  yield  to  you.**     This  wa«  accord- 

ly  done,  and  alfords  a  rich  characteristic  of  the  age  of  chivalry. 

Pteliamentary  RoHm  28  Henry  VI.  No.  17.  *Ibid. 

For  cpocimeus  of  these  political  squibs  of  the  fifteenth  century,  see  Ezcarpta 

•nrica,  pp.  ItVfuiA'i,  and  279;  and  Cottonian  MSS.,  Charters,  ii.  33. 

Rolls  uf  Parliament,  28th  of  Henry  VL  *  Parliament* r}*  Historf. 


They  surprised  his  servants,  but  SufToIl 
wirh«  where,  aAer  arranging  his  af&irs, 
thetic  letter  to  his  son,  which  afTords  su 
ally  to  his  sovereign,  and  his  devotion 
from  Ipswich,  April  30th,  with  two  sn 
before  him,  to  inquire  whether  he  migh 
but  the  pinnace  was  captured  by  a  squf 
diately  I  he  Nicolas,  of  the  Tower,*  bfor 
He  was  ordered  on  board,  and  received 
^  Welcome,  traitor  !"*  He  underwent  i 
whom  he  was  condemned  to  suflfer  deat 
his  capture  a  small  boat  came  alongside 
sword,  and  an  executioner.  They  low 
^  he  should  die  like  a  knight,^'  and  at  lY 
off^  and  was  left  with  the  severed  boi 
were  found  by  his  chaplain,  and  receii 
collegiate  church  of  Wingiield,  in  Sufib 
The  consummation  of  this  tragedy,  f 
of  excitement  to  which  the  public  mini 
the  first  sign  and  token  of  the  scenes  < 
store  for  England.  Pestilence  had  aggr 
disaffected  population,  and  the  inflamm 

•  K«>II»  of  Parliaincnt,  'iiith  of  H-nry  VI. 

*  It  is  a  mtMnorablp  fact,  that  this  vessel,  1 
(a:*,  indeed,  did  iht»  whc»le  squadron  by  w! 
wa-  part  of  the  royal  navy  placed  at  the  (! 
Hf:iry  Holland,  the  young  duke  of  Exeter, 


MAKCIABBT    OV    ANJOU.  119 

endiaries,  acting  upon  the  miseiy  of  the  lower  classes,  caused  the  ter- 
B  outbreak  of  national  frenzy  which  immediately  af\er  this  event  mani- 
ted  itself  in  the  rebellion  under  Jack  Cade.  It  was  to  suppress  this 
niidable  insurrection  that  Henry  VI.  prepared  for  his  first  essay  in 
IS,  by  setting  up  his  standard,  and  going  in  person  to  attack  Cade  and 

rabble  rout,  who  were  encamped  on  Blackheath  in  formidable  array. 

the  news  of  the  sovereign's  approach  at  the  head  of  fif\een  thousand 

tDt  the  hot  valour  of  the  captain  of  the  great  assembly  of  Kent,  and 

I  followers,  received  an  immediate  check,  and  they  fled  to  Sever 

ks. 

Qjaeen  Margaret  accompanied  her  lord  on  this  expedition ;  but  so  little 

the  warlike  spirit  for  which  she  was  afterwards  so  family  renowned 
I  she  manifest  at  this  crisis,  that  when  king  Henry  would  have  fol- 
ired  up  his  success  by  pursuing  the  insurgents  to  their  retreat,  her 
nioine  terrors,  and  anxiety  for  his  safety,  prevailed  upon  him  not  to 
peril  his  person  by  going  any  further.'  He  therefore,  in  compliance 
ih  her  entreaties,  gave  up  the  command  of  his  army  to  sir  Humphrey 
ifibrd  and  his  brother  William,  and  returned  to  London  with  her.' 
Never  did  Margaret  commit  a  greater  error,  than  by  thus  allowing  her 
ttdemess  for  her  royal  husband  to  betray  him  into  conduct  so  unbe- 
ining  the  son  of  the  conqueror  of  France  and  Normandy. 
The  rebels,  attributing  the  weakness  of  the  king  to  fear,  took  courage, 
Died,  and  defeated  the  royalists,  who,  with  their  two  generals,  were 
It  to  pieces.  The  victors  then  returned  to  Blackheath ;  and  when  the 
efabishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  were  despatched 
MB  the  court,  to  treat  with  them,  they  found  Cade  dressed  in  a  suit 
'gilded  armour  (the  spoils  of  sir  Humphrey  Stafford),  encompassed  by 
m  victorious  troops,  and  giving  himself  the  airs  of  a  sovereign.  He 
Mitively  refused  to  treat  with  any  one  but  the  king  himself,  nor  with 
im  unless  he  would  come  to  the  Blackheath  in  person,  and  grant  all 
lair  dennands. 

When  this  answer  was  returned  to  the  king  and  queen,  together  with 
le  news  that  the  rebels  were  ready  to  march  to  London,  they  were 
irown  into  such  alarm,  that,  leaving  the  Tower  under  the  command  of 
le  lord  Scales,  and  the  valiant  sir  Matthew  Gough,  they  fled  to  Kenil- 
forth  Castle.'  We  fear  this  cowardly  proceeding  must  be  attributed  to 
le  same  fond  weakness,  on  the  part  of  queen  Margaret,  which  inflo- 
aeed  the  retreat  of  the  king  from  Blackheath ;  and  it  is  to  be  observed, 
Mt  till  she  became  a  mother,  and  the  rights  of  her  child  were  at  stake, 
D  timit  of  fierce  or  warlike  propensities  was  ever  manifested  by  her. 

On  the  2nd  of  July,  the  rebels,  who  had  previously  taken  up  their 
darters  at  South warii,  entered  London,  when  Cade  smote  his  stafl*  on 
ondon-stone,  with  these  memorable  words,  ^Now  is  Moi  timer  lord  of 
(OndonP'* 

The  proceedings  of  tliia  motley  company  of  reformers,  and  their  pun- 

•Guthrie.  *Ibid.  'Ghithne.     Stow. 

*CWde   pretended   to  be   sir  John  Mortimer.     See  memoir  of  Jouma  of 
bvaiie. 

13* 


tacl  18  evuieiiceu  in  a  privaie  iciusr  iruj 
sen'icc  of  sir  John  Falstolf,  who,  after 
which  he  had  been  despoiled  and  inalti 
bad  been  carried  otf  by  them  sorely  ag; 
peril  of  the  battle  of  the  bridge^"  adi 
over,  the  bishop  of  Rochester  impeach 
I  was  arrested,  and  was  in  the  Marshal 
of  my  life.  Tliey  would  have  had  n 
Falstolf,  of  treason,  and,  because  I  woi 
ster,  and  there  would  have  sent  me  to 
two  cousins  of  my  wife's  and  mine,  ' 
went  to  king  Henry,  and  got  grace  for 

Margaret^s  desire  to  implicate  sir  Joh 
to  his  previous  conduct  with  regard  to 
DO  less  than  to  the  suspicions  she  ei 
quent  events,  however,  prove  that  the  > 
to  FalstolPs  practices  against  the  govei 
most  zealous  partisans  of  tlie  house  of 

Margaret  and  Henry  returned  to  t 
July,  1450,  and  the  disclosures  of  so 
late  insurrection,  left  no  doubt,  on  the 
of  York  had  been  the  instigator  of 
confirmed  by  the  return  of  that  prini 
government  in  Ireland.  He  was  atteni 
retinue  of  four  thousand  men,  to  the 
having  extorted  from  the  king  a  promi 
drew  to  his  castle  of  Fotheringay.' 


rnu_    — ..._«.  ^C  .k«  ,I..I.,»  ^f  c^ 


ttxtrntoa 


MAROARXT    OF    ANJOU.  151 

lanctioned  the  queen  in  the  close  friendship  which,  from  first  to  last, 
subsisted  between  her  and  the  Beaufort  princes  of  the  house  of  Lancas- 
ter. Unfortunately,  however,  tlie  unpopularity  in  which  the  disasters 
io  France  and  Normandy  had  involved  Somerset  very  soon  extended  to 
herself,  when  it  was  perceived  that  he  was  shielded,  by  court  favour, 
from  tlie  fury  of  the  commons,  and  the  jealousy  of  the  peers.  lie  was 
impeached  by  parliament,  and  committed  to  the  Tower,  but,  immediately 
ihe  short  and  stormy  session  was  over,  he  was  releai<ed,  and  piomolei' 
to  the  high  office  formerly  enjoyed  by  Suffolk.  He  has  been  said  to 
owe  hb  elevation  entirely  to  the  influence  of  the  queen ;  but  he  appears 
lo  have  been  the  especial  favourite  of  his  royal  kinsman,  king  Henry. 

The  violent  temper  of  Somerset  was  the  means  of  precipitating  the 
direful  collision  of  the  rival  factions,  whose  strife  for  twenty  years  de- 
luged England  with  kindred  blood.  According  to  historical  tradition, 
ibose  fatal  badges  of  the  contending  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster, 
^  the  pale  and  purple  rose,''  were  assumed  to  distinguish  the  rival  fao- 
tiona  during  the  memorable  dispute  between  Somerset  and  the  earl  of 
Warwick,  in  the  Temple  Gardens,  when  Somerset,  to  collect  the  suf- 
frages of  tlie  by-suinders,  plucked  a  red  rose,  and  Warwick  a  white 
rose,  and  each  called  upon  every  man  present  to  declare  his  party,  by 
taking  a  rose  of  the  colour  chosen  by  him  whose  cause  he  favoured. 
This  was  the  prologue  to  that  great  national  tragedy,  which  ended  in 
the  extinction  of  the  royal  line  and  name  of  Plantagenet.  That  enlight- 
ened statesman-historian,  Philip  de  Comines,  who  was  well  acquainted 
with  queen  Margaret,  attributes  all  the  misfortunes  that  afterwards  befell 
her,  and  tlie  overthrow  of  the  house  of  Lancaster,  to  her  rash  interposi- 
tion in  the  feud  between  Somerset  and  Warwick,  in  which  she  indicated 
her  preference  for  the  former,  in  a  way  that  never  was  forgiven  by  War- 
wick. ^^  The  queen  had  acted  much  more  prudently,''  says  Comines, 
**  in  endeavouring  to  have  adjusted  the  dispute  between  them,  than  to 
have  said,  ^  I  am  of  this  party,  and  I  will  maintain  it' "  And  so  it 
proved  by  the  event 

it  is  probable  that  the  red  rose  was  originally  worn  by  Margaret  as  a 
compliment  to  Somerset,  in  token  that  she  espoused  his  cause,  and  that 
his  great  political  opponent,  the  duke  of  York,  assumed  tlie  white,  as  a 
■ymbol  of  hostility  to  him  and  his  adherents.' 

Rosettes  of  white  and  crimson  riband,  or  even  of  paper,  among  the 
comiDOQ  soldiers,  were  worn  as  the  substitutes  of  these  ill-omened 

*  Shakspeare,  in  his  spirited  version  of  the  scene  in  the  Temple  Gartlens,  errs 
in  chronology,  by  placing  it  prior  to  the  marriage  of  the  king  and  Margaret  of 
Aigou.  He  alM  uses  a  poetical  license  in  representing  Richard,  duke  of  York 
«•  the  leading  character  engaged  in  the  dispute,  while  Warwick,  merely  acting 
«•  his  second,  rays,  *'  I  pluck  tliis  white  rose  with  Plantagenet."  Suffolk,  who 
bad  been  dt*Hd  some  months  when  the  veritable  dispute  occurred,  is  made  to 
exclaim — ^  I  pluck  this  red  rose  witii  young  JSomerset.'*  These  badges  were 
only  revived  ;  for  Edmunfl,  earl  of  Lancaster,  the  brother  of  Edward  I.,  had,  a* 
Clamden  dei*lares,  red  roses  emblazoned  on  his  tomb  in  Westminster  Abbey,  and 
Rdward  the  Black  Prince  wears  a  coronet  of  white  rotes,  in  his  portrait  dirnvm 
ID  Richard  ll.'s  missal  in  the  Harleian  Collection. 


cncamptm  uu  i^uiiii,-..v.u...,  ... 

took  up  his  post  about  four  miles 
neart,  and  his  scruples  at  the  idea 
mm  to  negotiate  when  he  ought  to 
his  old  adversary,  Somerset,  shoulc 
to  an  arraignment  for  his  misdeme 
by  the  advice  of  his  prelates ;  Yor 
unattended  to  confer  with  his  8ov< 
time,  having  represented  to  the  que 
fu)  friend  to  purchase  a  deceitful 
obtained   his  liberation   by  her   c 
Somerset  was  concealed  behind  th 
cret  witness  of  the  conference  bet^ 
York,  who  imagined  the  minisu 
assured  the  king  ^  that  he  had  bee 
of  Somerset  alone,  in  order  that  he 
roent'^     On  this,  Somerset,  unabh 
his  hiding-place,  and  defied  York, 
on  the  crown.'     York  fiercely  ret< 
his  misgrovemment  in  France,  and 
by  reproaching  Henry  with  his  ^ 
who  does  not  appear  to  have  bee 
mier,  remained  speechless  and  an 
was  closed  by  the  arrest  of  the 
According  to  most  historians,  this 
Henry,  however,  would  not  penn 
leased,  on  condition  of  swearing  ) 
Q*  P.„P«  r-^tVipHrftl.  March  10th ; 


MABOABBT    OF    AKJOU.  153 

dinttioiu  regency  in  France.'  But  what  is  there  of  fideehood  that  the 
demon  of  party  will  not  inrent,  to  rilify  its  Tictiros,  or  of  improbability, 
that  the  vulgar  will  not  believe  and  ciiculate,  especially,  if  in  the  sliapo 
of  scandal  on  royalty  ? 

During  the  deceitful  calm  that  for  a  brief  interval  succeeded  the  Sate 
tempest,  Margaret  turned  her  attention  to  foreign  aflairs,  and,  tlirougli 
her  influence,  the  renowned  Talbot,  earl  of  Shrewsbury,  was  despatched, 
with  such  forces  as  could  be  raised,  to  the  assistance  of  the  English 
party  in  Guienne.  The  aged  hero  achieved  some  brilliant  successes  in 
the  first  instance ;  but  it*was  impossible  for  the  queen,  struggling,  as  she 
wttp,  with  the  mighty  faction  that  opposed  her  in  parliament,  to  support 
a  war  against  the  overwhelming  force  of  France.  Talbot  was  borne 
down  by  numbers,  and  slain  in  his  eightieth  year ;  his  brave  adherents 
were  eut  to  pieces. 

In  the  valiant  Talbot,  Margaret  lost  one  of  her  most  devoted  friends 
—  one  of  tlie  few,  out  of  the  many  warrior  peers  of  England,  at  that 
nide  ere,  who  possessed  a  mind  sufficiently  cultivated  to  appreciate  the 
learning  and  accomplishments  of  tlie  lair  Pn>ven9a]  queen.  The  mag- 
nificent illuminated  manusciipt  volume  which  he  presented  to  her  is  a 
surviving  monument  of  his  exquisite  taste  in  the  fine  arts ;  while  his 
dedicatory  lines,  addressed  to  his  royal  patroness,  contain  a  delicate 
testimonial  of  his  opinion  of  her  talents  and  acquirements.  He  requests 
her  **  to  explain  to  his  sovereign  any  thing  that  may  appear  difficult  to 
undersuind  in  the  book :  for,^'  says  he,  ^  though  you  speak  English  so 
well,  yon  have  not  forgotten  your  French.'* 

The  illuminated  title-page  represents  the  queen  seated  by  Henry  Vf., 
and  surrounded  by  their  court,  receiving  the  volume  from  the  hands  of 
Talbot.'  The  state-hull  in  which  they  are  assembled  is  worthy  of  atten- 
tion. Tlie  royal  seat  fills  up  a  rich  oriel,  with  vaulted  ceiling,  groined, 
and  painted  blue,  with  gold  stars ;  the  clustered  windows  are  long  and 
]ancet-eha})ed,  but  the  tops  of  the  lancets  are  rounded.  Probably  the 
scene  took  place  in  some  hall  of  the  destroyed  apartments,  in  the  Tower 
or  Westminster  Palace.  An  arras  of  gold  and  ctdours,  representing  the 
royal  arms  in  numerous  chequers,  is  stretched  from  pillar  to  pillar,  and 
forms  tike  hack-ground  of  the  royal  seat,  which  is  a  broad,  low  divan, 
covered  with  cloth.  On  this,  Margaret,  robed  in  queenly  costume,  sits, 
with  her  right  hand  liKkcd  in  that  of  king  Henr^'^s,  who  sits  by  her  in 
regal  array.  Maigarct  wears  a  royal  crown ;  her  hair,  of  a  pale  golden 
ccuour,  is  most  gracefully  flowing  from  under  her  diadem,  and  falls  in 
profusion  down  her  back  and  shoulders,  and  over  her  regal  niantlcy 
which  is  pale  purple,  fastened  round  the  bust  widi  bands  of  gold  and 
gems.  The  dress  beneath  the  mantle  is  the  furred  cote^hardi^  precisely 
the  same  as  before  allucd  to.  She  is  exquisitely  lovely,  and  very 
majestic,  in  this  carefully  finished  portrait,  which  does  not  lepresent  her 

>  Hall. 

*As  this  mighty  warnor  ilied  in  1453,  Margaret*!  portrait  must  have  beeii 
limnrd  fome  liiiie  bt^fure  tliat  prriod.  This  magnidcent  Iblio  it  still  in  tlie  AnaSt 
frasarvatioii,  iu  the  British  Museum.    King's  MS& 


oUer  Lhftn  in  her  tweniielh  year.  Talbot  u  kuMlitig  bcfote  fatr,|n> 
senting  Lhe  very  folio  fram  whirti  this  dcKriptinn  it  akeu.  ItH4<^ii 
in  aliendaiice.'  The  liile-page  of  the  inagiit&ceul  rolmne  u  ndnWuif 
MargaieOa  emblem-flower.  Daisies  are  wen  jawing  in  Ulennki«r 
Uio  palace ;  daisies,  willi  their  liitle  red  hutluoii,  are  urarijpid  la  pK^ 
fusion  up  Uie  sitle  of  ilie  liiie-page;  ilaiijios  awarm  iu  clmten  munilha 
arnxiTial  bearings,  and  flourish  in  evury  comer  of  ilie  illuiuiiMUNl  p^H 
of  the  volume.  Amougst  other  embellish ineMa  may  likewiae  to  mm! 
a  crowned  M.,  the  queen's  initial,  surrounilei)  by  (lie  gariiri  ikI  M 
motto.  The  queeii's  ladies  are  seeu  behind  ihs  rnynl  MUl,  MiUitd  it 
heart-slinped  cupB,  which  were  a  graceful  motlifirsiinn.  m  Mir^na^ 
court,  of  the  monstrous  horned  cap  nf  the  preroiling  hnir  ccntgtt  ^  dq 
were  formed  of  a  atufled  roll,  wreathed  with  j;otiI  and  ffiaM%,  ud  boi 
in  a  fatidfitl  turban  shape,  over  a  close  caul  of  ^uld  clulti  ur  Uri-ml^ 
brought  to  a  point,  low  in  front,  and  rising  behind  itie  hend  HnQ*! 
nolile3  are  assembled  iu  crowds,  to  the  ri^^bt  of  the  royal  Mai-,  UiCjr  ■ 
clothed  iu  full  surtouts,  like  the  beef-catart'  drrMW,  but  of  aMt 
colours,  and  triiamed  with  fur.  They  either  wear  roiuHl  Mack,  e^K|  V 
tlieir  hair  is  cropfwd  close  to  the  head, — •  fashion  oJwayg  prvniM  ii 
the  lime  of  war,  when  the  helmet  prevented  the  ^owth  of  uir. 

The  ariisis,  employed  by  the  enrl  of  Slir«wiAury  in  the  «pl«n£d  dl» 
minatiouB  of  this  vulume,  have  compltiuented  ilaisant,  bj  pnttnjM 

thp  niitvn  nivmnmo  ivilh    h-r  r«>nlii»>-.  oniHa^imMdnk  Iu. '•^JJ'OK-    ! 


MAMGABBT    OF    ANJOU.  M5 

blue,  probably  of  that  deep,  dark,  melancholy  tint  which  has  recently 
been  called  French  black.' 

The  lo99  of  a  mother— of  such  a  mother,  too,  as  Isabella  of  Lor- 
imine— could  not  have  been  otherwise  than  keenly  felt  by  Margaret,  who 
had,  in  childhood  and  early  youth,  shared  and  solaced  so  many  of  her 
trying  adrersities.  But  a  heavier  calamity  than  even  the  death  of  that 
dearly  beloved  parent  oppressed  the  royal  matron,  as  the  dreaded  hour 
of  peril  and  anguish  drew  near,  from  which  the  consorts  of  monarcht 
are  no  more  exempted  than  the  wives  of  peasants. 

When  Margaret  was  in  the  eighth  month  of  her  pregnancy,  and  the 
political  horizon  became  daily  more  gloomy,  in  anticipation  of  an  event 
more  feared  than  wished  by  all  parties,  king  Henry  was  seized  with  one 
of  those  alarming  attacks  of  malady,  to  which  his  grandfather,  Charles 
VI.  of  France,  was  subject  The  agitating  character  of  public  events, 
and  the  difBeulties  with  which  the  court  hid  had  to  contend,  for  the  last 
four  years,  had  been  too  much  for  a  prince  of  acute  sensibility,  and  who 
bad,  moreover,  hereditary  tendency  to  inflammation  of  the  brain.  For 
a  time  both  mind  and  body  sank  under  the  accumulated  pressure,  and 
he  remained  in  a  state  that  lefl  litde  hope  for  his  life  and  none  for  hie 
leeson. 

Margaret  had  doubtless  been  long  aware  of  the  dark  shadow  that  im- 
pended over  lier  royal  lord,  and  felt  the  strong  necessity  of  thinking  and 
acting  for  him^  at  seasons,  when  his  judgment  could  not  be  trusted  to 
form  decisions  for  himself,  on  any  matter  of  importance.  She  has  been 
blamed  for  encouraging  him  to  spend  his  time,  in  pursuits  fitter  for  the 
cloister  than  the  throne ;  but,  considering  the  circumstances  of  his  case^ 
she  acted  with  et^'ual  tenderness  and  prudence,  in  directing  his  attention 
to  tranquil  and  sedative  amusements,  instead  of  perplexing  him  with  the 
turmoils  and  strong  excitement  of  politics. 

King  Henry  was  at  Clarendon  when  he  was  first  seized  with  his  dan- 
gerous malady ;  but  after  a  few  days  he  was  by  slow  degrees  conveyed 
to  his  palace  at  Westminster,  where  queen  Margaret,  on  the  13th  of 
October,  1453,  gave  birth  to  a  prince,  the  unfortunate  Edward  of  Lan- 
caster, whom  Speed  pathetically  calls  ^  the  child  of  sorrow  and  infeli- 
city >* 

Henry  remained  vibrating  between  life  and  death,  and  perfectly  uncoo- 
acious  of  an  event  the  anticipation  of  which  had,  a  few  months  earlier, 
been  hailed  by  him  with  transports  of  joy.  The  Parliamentary  Rolls 
bear  witness  of  the  munificent  reward  he  bestowed  on  Richard  Tunstaly 
his  squire  of  the  body,  whose  office  it  was,  by  a  strange  etiquette  of  the 
fluddle  ages,  to  announce  publicly  to  the  king,  for  the  information  of  the 
court,  the  hopeful  situation  of  the  queen.  Forty  marks  per  annum 
were  granted  from  the  duchy  of  Lancaster  by  king  Henry,  in  these 
words,  ^  Because  Richard  Tunstal,  esq.,  made  unto  us  the  first  comfort- 
able relation  and  notice,  that  our  most  dearly  beloved  wife  the  queen 

and  ooiiiplotolf  drpiirhiNl  those  »|>ectators  who  did  not  ub«  mnno  Rfrility  in  getti&a 
cut  of  the  way.  —  VilUntwH.  'Arundel  MiS.,  No.  zivi.  p.  liQ, 


try  in  iiie  reii  ixuns.cn  ^n%.  ouiu  vr. 
queen,  for  a  richly  embroidered  ch 
of  the  prince ;  also  for  twenty  ya 
the  font,  and  five  hundred  and  forty 
own  churching-robe. 

As  the  royal  infant  wa«  born  o 
in  the  hope  of  propitiating  the  pe* 
England,  on  her  son.  This  fair  t 
baptized  by  Waynflete,  bishop  of 
bishop  of  Canterbury,  the  duke  of 
ingham,  were  his  sponsors.' 

The  birth  of  an  heir,  to  the  lor 
whom  the  duke  of  York  had  hithf 
tion,  was  regarded  by  the  majorit 
bloody  succession  war ;  while  the 
all  the  suspicion  they  could,  on  U 
insinuations  prejudicial  to  the  hoi 
tended  by  some  that  it  was  a  spun 
of  the  king  and  queen  died  soon  . 
substituted  in  his  place.^ 

Q^6en  Margaret  had  not  comp 
king  was  just  thirty-three,  when  i 
only  son,  whose  birth,  so  far  froi 
vantage  to  them,  had  the  worst  p* 
determining  the  duke  of  York  to 
Henry,  at  swords'  points,  instead  • 
him,  at  the  death  of  his  royal  kin^ 


MABOAmKT    OF    AfTJOIf.  157 

fbnowin£^  the  birth  of  the  prince,  and  the  house  of  lords  took  adrantaffe 
Off  his  death,  to  depute  a  committee  from  their  body,  to  ascertain  the 
real  state  of  the  king,  for  the  purpose  of  learning  his  pleasure  touching 
the  appointments  left  vacant  by  the  death  of  the  cardinal.'  The  com- 
missioners proceeded  to  Windsor,  whither  the  king  had  been  removed 
by  queen  Margaret  and  his  physicians,  for  change  of  air.  They  were 
Admitted  into  his  chamber,  and  declared  their  errand  ;  but  the  king  made 
BO  reply,  and  appeared  to  hare  lost  all  consciousness  of  the  things  of 
this  world.  His  reason  must  at  that  time  have  been  under  a  total 
eclipse.  On  the  25th  of  March,  1454,  the  committee  reported  to  the 
parliament,  ^  that  they  had  been  to  wait  upon  the  king  at  Windsor,  and, 
after  three  interviews  with  him.  and  earnest  solicitation,  they  coatd  by 
no  means  obtain  an  answer,  or  token  of  answer,  from  him.^" 

When  the  situation  of  the  king  was  made  known  to  his  peers  of 
pviiament,  they,  on  the  27th  of  March,  appointed  the  duke  of  York 
protector  and  defender  of  the  king,  during  the  king's  pleasure,  or  till 
mich  time  as  Edward  the  prince  should  come  to  age  of  discretion.'  The 
parliament  thus  evidently  acted  under  the  impression,  that  the  kinff^s- 
indisposition  was  a  mental  aberration,  that  would  last  as  long  as  he 
lived,  and  at  the  same  time  they  showed  a  desire  of  preserving  the  rights 
o€  the  reigning  fiimily,  by  reserving  this  office  for  an  infant  not  six 
months  old. 

Patents,  bearing  the  name  of  the  king's  letters  patent,  were  read  in 
the  parliament  on  the  3d  of  April,  granting  to  the  infiint  prince  the  same 
allowance  that  was  made  for  his  royal  mther  in  the  first  year  of  his 
reign,  with  the  yearly  fee  of  two  thousand  marks  only,  besides  allow- 
ances for  learning  to  ride,  and  other  manly  exercises,  ^  provided  the 
aune  grant  be  in  no  ways  prejudicial  to  any  grant  made  to  Margaret 
qneen  of  England.'' 

King  Henry,  though  incapable  at  that  time  of  business,  is  made,  by 
similar  instruments,  to  create  his  son  Edward  prince  of  Wales  and  earl 
of  Chester.  This  was  confirmed  by  the  hands  of  all  the  lords,  and  by 
the  commons  in  parliament^  By  the  same  authority  queen  Margaret 
received  the  grant  of  1000/.  per  annum  for  life,  out  of  the  customs,  and 
aubeidies  on  wools  at  the  port  of  Southampton,  besides  sundry  manom 
and  hereditaments  in  the  counties  of  Northampton,  Southampton,  and 
Oxfordshire,  which  were  confirmed  to  her  by  this  parliament  These 
concessions  to  the  queen  and  her  infant  boy,  were  probably  granted  to 
induce  her  to  acquiesce  in  the  appointment  of  the  duke  of  York,  to  the 
office  of  protector.  A  medical  commission  of  Bve  physicians  and  sur- 
geons was  appointed  by  the  duke  of  York  and  his  council,  to  attend  on 
the  person  of  the  king,  and  to  watch  over  his  health.* 

*  Pirliamentarj  History.  'Ibid.    Acts  of  the  Privy  Council. 

*  Parliamentary  History.   Rymer*s  Fcsdera.       *  Parliamentary  Hist       *  Ibid. 

*  Rymer's  FaBdenu  The  date  of  this  commission  is  April  6th,  and  empowers 
ibofO  belored  masters,  John  Arundel,  John  Faceby,  and  William  Haclifr,  physi> 
etans,  and  Robert  Warreyn,  and  William  Marschall,  surgeons,  to  administer  Mr 
the  king,  at  their  disoretion,  electuaries,  potions,  and  syrups,  conffTtions,  aad 
lazatiTe  medicines,  in  any  form  that  may  be  tbcHisJliX  Vim\\  \m^vb,  W»»vMi3C>iafci^ 

TOL*  Ut.  — 14 


queen's  presence-chainbe 
was  unable  to  do  any  t 
York  proceeded  to  depo^ 
and  by  letters  patent,  issi 

Henry  VI.  began  to  a 
he  was  so  much  recover 
to  Canterbury,  with  his  c 
at  the  shrine  of  St.  £dw 
witness,  who  describes  tl 
pears  to  have  been  like 
when  reason  and  convale 
the  infant  princess  recog 
narrated,  in  the  letter  to  ^ 

^  On  Monday  at  noon 
prince  with  her,  and  ther 
the  queen  told  him,  ^£< 
thanked  God  thereof.  A 
nor  wist  what  was  said  t< 
had  been  sick,  till  now;  i 

embrocalions,  unctiona,  pla^t 
of  other  inflictions  in  the  ' 
&vourite  physician  who  had 
a  pension  of  lOOL  per  ann 
Margaret,  as  the  reward  of  1 
find  the  court  dress  of  the  1 
▼er  cap. 

*  There  is  in  the  Patent  Ro 

mr «         -'» 


MAROARBT    OF     ANJOTT.  159 

IVMn  mid  liim.  and  he  was  well  apatd  (conlent).  And  she  loIJ  him 
ihe  (ordinal  was  dead,'  and  he  said  lie  never  know  uf  it  till  ihis  lime ; 
th«n  he  said  one  of  the  wisest  lords  in  ihis  land  was  dead.  And  my 
lord  of  Winchester  (bishopl,  and  my  lord  of  St.  John  of  Jerusalem, 
were  with  him  the  morrow  after  Twelfth  day,  and  he  did  speak  tn  Ihem 
aa  well  as  ever  lie  did,  and  when  they  came  oul  they  wept  for  joy.  And 
he  sailh  he  is  in  charity  with  all  the  world,  and  so  he  would  all  ihe 
lords  were.  And  now  he  saiih  matins  of  Our  L«dy,  and  evensong,  and 
besrelh  his  maea  devoutly." 

Margnrpt  immediately  look  prompt  measurea  for  Henry's  realoralion 
lo  the  soverei^  authority,  by  cansing  him  lo  be  eonvevcd,  thoiii^h  alill 
Tery  weak,  to  the  House  of  Lords,  where  he  distaolved  the  pari  lam  eni,' 
■nd  the  duke  of  Somerset  was  immediately  released  and  reinstated  in 
hiB  former  post 

The  triumph  of  the  queen  and  her  parly  was  short-lived.  The  dnka 
of  York  retired  lo  the  marches  of  Wales,  raised  an  armv,  with  ilie  assisl- 
ance  uf  his  powerful  friends  and  kinsmen.  Salisbury  and  Warwick,  and 
marched  towards  London,  with  the  intention  of  t>urprisii\g  the  king 
there.  All  the  troops  that  eoidd  be  mustered  by  the  exertions  of  the 
queen  and  Soraersei  scarcely  amounted  lo  two  thousand  men.'  On  the 
21st  day  of  May  the  royal  army  lay  at  Watford,  and  the  next  day  the 
king  took  up  his  head-quarters  at  St.  Albans.  The  royal  sbtitdanl  was 
erecled  in  Sl  Pater's  Street.  The  duke  of  York  and  his  men  lay  at 
Heyfietd. 

King  Henry  was  not  deficient  in  personal  courage,  bni  his  holy  nature 
revolted  from  being  the  cause  of  bloodshed,  and  he  sent  a  meNsage  to 
the  duke  of  York,  to  aak,  "  wherefore  he  came  in  hostile  array  against 
him  !"  York  replied  *'  that  he  would  not  lay  down  his  orais,  uuless  the 
duke  of  Somerset  were  dismissed  from  king  Henry's  councils,  and  de* 
iJTered  up  lo  Justice."  Henry  for  once  in  his  life  manifested  Bomethiog 
of  the  fiery  temperament  of  a  Plantagenet,  when  this  answer  waa  re- 
ported lo  liim  by  llie  agents  of  the  duke  of  York:  for  with  a  loud  im- 
Erecalion — the  only  one  he  was  ever  known  to  utter — he  declared,  ■*  that 
e  would  deliver  up  his  crown  as  soon  as  he  would  the  duke  of  Somer~ 
ael  or  Ihe  least  soldier  in  his  army,  and  that  he  would  treat  as  a  traitor 
Every  man  who  should  presume  lo  fight  against  him  in  the  field."'  The 
earl  of  Warwick,  who  commanded  York's  van-guard,  coramenceil  the 
attack,  by  breaking  down  the  gardeD-woll  which  aiood  between  the  Key 
aad  ilie  Chequer  in  Hollowell  Street,'  and  led  his  men  on  through  ilia 
gardens,  shouting,  '*A  Warwick  !  a  Warwick !'' 

The  battle  lasted  but  an  hour.  The  king's  army,  made  up  almost  all 
of  genilemen,  was  inferior  in  numbers,  and  pent  up  in  the  town.  They 
fboght  desperately,  and  n  dreailful  slaughter  ensued,  in  ihe  narrow 
aiicets.  The  king,  who  stood  under  his  own  standard,  was  wounded 
in  the  neck  with  an  arrow,  at  the  commencement  of  the  fight.  He  r^ 
mained  till  he  was  leSi  solus  under  his  royal  banner,  when  he  walked 


I 
I 


MARGARE 

QUEEN    O 


CHAl 


Queen  at  Greenwich— News  of  defe 
tared  in  Parliament— Royal  femUj 
Greenwich— King  restored— Queei 
portrait- Pacific  negotiation*— Q« 
the  peace— Court  at  Coventry— I 
Blore-heath— Success  at  Ludlow- 
ton— Queen's  flight— Taken  by  pi 
—King  in  captivity— Queen  goes 
field— York's  head  presented  to 
king  Henry— Retreats  to  York— r 
wick— Skill  in  archery- AUianc< 
gpes  to  France  with  the  prince— 

Repulsed  at  Tynemouth  —  He 

Flight  from  Hexham— Romantic 
at  the  court  of  Burgundy— Her  re 
Reconciliation  with  Warwick— M 
parts  for  England— Contrary  win 
l-ier  despair— Takes  sanctuary 
—Brought  to  king  Edward— Led 
u-»  «r«/inwhnnd — Five  years'  ca 


MABOABBT    OF    ANJOV.  161 

biaTe  friends^  and  the  captivity  of  the  king  her  husband,  plunged  her 
into  a  sort  of  stupor  of  despair,  in  which  she  remained  for  many  hours.* 
Her  chamberlain,  sir  John  Wenlock,  whom  she  had  advanced  to  great 
honours,  and  loade<l  with  benefits,  took  that  opportunity  of  forsaking 
her,  and  strengthening  the  party  of  her  foe.  lie  was  chosen  speaker  of 
the  Torkist  parliament,  which  king  Henry  had  been  compelled  to  sum- 
mon.' The  king^s  wound  was  dan^rous,  and  the  alarm  and  excitement 
he  had  undergone  brought  on  a  relapse  of  his  malady ;  so  that,  when 
the  parliament  assembled  at  Westminster,  July  4th,  he  was  declared 
incapable  of  attending  to  public  business,  and  the  duke  of  York  was 
commissioned  to  attend  in  his  name.' 

It  was  in  this  parliament,  made  up  of  her  enemies,  that  queen  Mar- 
garet was  for  the  first  time  publicly  censured  for  her  interference  in 
mfiairs  of  state,  it  being  there  resolved,  ^^  that  the  government,  as  it  was 
managed  by  the  queen,  the  duke  of  Somerset,  and  their  friends,  had  been 
of  late  a  great  oppression  and  injustice  to  the  people.''^ 

The  king  was  petitioned  to  appoint  the  duke  of  York  protector  or 
defender  of  the  realm,  ^  because  of  his  indisposition,  and  tilh  he  would 
not  come  down  to  them,  that  his  commons  might  have  knowledge  of 
bim.^  Henry,  being  tlien  in  the  duke  of  York^s  power,  was  not  per- 
mitted to  reject  this  petition,  but  it  was  repeated  and  urged  upon  him 
many  times,  before  he  would  accede  to  it* 

As  soon  as  the  duke  of  York  got  the  executive  power  of  the  crown 
into  his  bands,  he  resigned  the  custody  of  the  kmg's  person  to  the 
qneen,  and  enjoined  her  to  withdraw,  with  him  and  the  infant  prince,*  to 
Hertford  Castle  without  fail.'  Margaret  was  not  in  a  condition  to  resis 
thie  arrangement,  but  soon  aAer  found  means  to  remove  to  the  palace  of 
Oreenwicb,  with  these  helpless  but  precious  objects  of  her  care,  and 
,  nnpeaied  entirely  absorbed  in  the  anxious  duties  of  a  wife  and  mother. 
^  II  teemed,"  says  one  of  her  French  biographers,  ^  by  her  conduct  at 
thie  periody  as  if  she  deemed  nothing  on  earth  worthy  of  her  attention 
but  the  state  of  her  husband^s  health  and  the  education  of  her  son,  who 
was  a  child  of  early  promise."'  Meantime,  however,  she  strengthened 
the  party  of  the  red  Koee,  by  holding  frequent  secret  conferences,  in  her 
retreat  at  Greenwich,  with  the  surviving  princes  of  the  Lancastrian 
fiunily,  and  the  half-brothers  of  king  Henry,  the  young  gallant  Tudors, 
who  were  nearly  allied  in  blood  to  herself.'  She  had  gathered  round 
her,  withal,  a  bs^nd  of  ardent  and  courageous  young  nobles  and  gentle 
men,  whose  &thers  were  slain  at  St  Albans,  and  who  were  panting  to 
avenge  their  parents^  blood. 

•  Prevofft.  •  FarlmmeniBry  History. 

'Guthrie.     Rapin.     ParliameniBry  Hiitory.  *IUpin.  *lbid. 

*Tba  righiB  of  prince  Evlwurd  were  ttill  recofnited,  end  the  reversion  of  the 
pffoteotoreie  secured  to  him  when  he  came  of  age.  It  was  enacted  alM>  that  the 
jroung  prince  shoulfl  be  at  diet  and  sojourn  in  the  king's  court  till  the  age  of 
Imirteen  years ;  allowing  yearly  to  the  prince,  lowanls  his  wardrobe  and  wages, 
t«n  thousand  marks,  until  tlie  nge  of  eigtit  yearn,  and.  from  the  age  of  eight  till 
fHirteen  years,  twenty  thousand  marks  yearly.' — RoiU  of  PmrliameiU. 

» Piiflion  Pfepert.  •PreTosU  'Qntlvie. 

14*  L 


the  unexpected  appearance  oi  tneir  S( 
lected  and  dij^niJied  manner  in  whic 
acceded  to  his  desire.     The  same  da\ 

w 

to  the  duke  of  York,  demandini^  th( 
Salisbury,  and  Warwick,  were  fairly 
the  queen,  and  retired  into  the  counti 
of  the  late  duke  of  Somerset,  Henr 
prime  minister,  and  Henry  bestowe 
Waynflete,  bishop  of  Winchester.     I 
ous  state,  queen  Margaret  took  great 
thing  that  was  likely  to  have  a  soothi 
tranquil  frame  of  mind.*    There  is, 
council,  stating,  ^  that  the  presence 
the  king  in  his  sick  state,  and  there! 
counties  were  required  to  seek  for  be 
cal  powers,  to  be  instructed  in  the  ai 
service  in  his  court,  and  to  receive 
amused  and  comforted  by  receiving  c 
others  of  his  subjects,  for  leave  to  go 
in  foreign  parts,  to  pray  for  the  re-estj 
unfrequently,  he  was  beguiled  with 
was  about  to  he  replenished  with  im 
of  the  philosopher's  stone,  by  one  c 
who  were  constantly  at  work  in  the 
The  regal  authority  la^as,  at  this 
queen  Margaret  and  her  council,  with 
impetuosity  of  her  temper  betrayed 


MAmOARBT    OF    AVJOU.  168 

wn  Margaret,  not  considering  the  person  of  the  king  safe  in  London, 
Boved  him  to  Shene,  where  she  left  him  under  the  care  of  his  brother 
iper,  while  she  visited  Chester,*  and  other  towns  in  the  midland  coun- 
■,  lo  ascertain  how  the  comitry  gentry  stood  affected  to  the  cause  of 
I  crown.  Having  every  reason  to  confide  in  the  loyal  feelings  of  that 
itioo  of  their  subjects,  Margaret  decided  on  brin^ring  the  king  in  ro3ral 
sgress  through  the  midland  counties,  and  keeping  court  for  a  time  at 
vrentry.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  enthusiastic  welcome  with  which 
»  king,  queen,  and  in&nt  prince  of  Wales,  were  received  by  the  wealthy 
fgesses  of  that  ancient  city.  On  their  arrival,  Margaret  was  compli- 
■iled  with  a  variety  of  pageants,  in  which  patriarchs,  evangelists,  and 
iota,  obligingly  united  with  the  pagan  heroes  of  classic  lore,  in  ofler- 
f  their  congratulations  to  her,  on  having  borne  an  heir  to  England, 
d  they  all  finished  by  tendering  their  friendly  aid  against  all  adver- 


Tbere  are  curious  original  portraits  of  Henry  VI.  and  Margaret  of 
you,  wrought  in  tapestry,  still  preserved  in  St.  Mary*s  Hall  at  Coven- 
r,  probably  the  work  of  a  contemporary  artist  in  that  species  of  manu- 
uure,  which,  we  need  scarcely  remind  our  readers,  is  not  very  favour- 
le  for  the  delineation  of  female  beauty,  but  highly  valuable  as  aflbrd- 
f  m  faithful  copy  of  the  costume  and  general  characteristics  of  the 
nonages  represented.  Margaret  appears  engaged  in  prayer ;  her  figure 
whole-length ;  her  luuids  rest  on  an  open  missnl,  which  is  before  her, 
I  A  table  covered  with  blue  cloth ;  her  head-dress  is  a  hood  richly  bor- 
ted  with  pear-pearls,  which  hang  round  her  face ;  on  the  summit  of 
e  hood  is  a  crown  of  fieur-de-lis,  which  bends  to  the  shape  of  the 
md  at  the  back  of  the  head ;  behind  the  hood  hangs  a  veil,  figured, 
d  fringed  with  drops  shaped  like  pears.  On  the  temples,  and  in  front 
'  the  hood,  are  three  oval-shaped  gems  of  great  size.  The  queen  wears 
rich  collar  necklace,  made  up  of  round  pearls  and  pendant  pear-pearls ; 
chain  is  suspended  round  her  neck.  Her  dress  appears  brocaded :  it 
Off  a  yellow  colour,  cut  square  round  the  bust ;  the  sleeves  are  straight 
I  the  shoulders,  but  gradually  widen  into  great  fulness,  which  turns  up 
iUi  ermine.  This  style  is  called  the  rehras  sleeve,  and  nearly  resem- 
es  the  modes  of  Anne  of  Bretagne,  queen  of  Charles  VJH.  of  France, 
ho  was  almost  a  contemporary  of  Margaret.  With  the  exception  of 
c  crown,  so  oddly  placed  on  the  top  of  the  hood,  the  whole  costume 
similar  to  the  dress  of  that  queen.* 

The  maternal  tenderness  of  the  queen,  and  the  courageous  manner  in 
hich  she  had  upheld  the  rights  of  her  royal  husband,  and  devoted  her- 
If  to  the  care  of  his  health,  her  brilliant  talents,  her  eloquence,  and 

'  PSrton  Paper*.  *  Sharp*!  Antiquitiei  of  Corentrj. 

*  Th«*  Corentry  tapentrj  Hkewiie  prrtentt  a  figiire  of  Henrjr  VI.  kneeling ;  ear- 
iml  Bpauibrt  kneels  behind  the  king;  and  there  are  aeventaeo  of  the  Engliah 
ibility  utanding  in  attendance  on  the  royal  pair.  The  figures  are  the  lise  oi 
e.  Tliis  noble  historical  relic  it  thirty  feet  in  length,  and  ten  leet  in  height 
'illiani  S'jiiinton,  e»q^  of  Longhridge  Hoom,  near  Warwick,  has  hail  the  figures 
'  Mar^nnM  Bnd  Henry  rtijrmvfd,  and  has  kindly  fhvonred  us  with  a  copy  of 
e  print,  and  wiili  hi?  own  do«('ii]»(ion  of  the  present  state  of  the  tapestry. 


irARG4KST    or    AXJOV. 

m^mic  bMitty.  "w«  at  ihai  lime  mItoUictI  to  pmducf  a  powwfnl  HIM  f 
(Ht  tha  miiub  of  all  whnm>  hn>m  the  rancour  of  party  liiul  iiol  iVtM 
apuntt  her  mfluenee.  The  (iiTounhle  imptesnoB  tnade  by  SUrpi«  in 
Ihai  iluirici  wa«  nrvrr  fntpMwn ;  mad  Coventry,  whet*  she  held  h« 
eourt,  wu  evfr  anrr  sn  dcTotn]  to  Iter  s^rricv,  that  ii  went  bjr  ihe  namt 
of  nueen  Manpirrt'*  tafr  hdtrhour. 

York,  Siilisnury,  aod  W&rwirtc,  were  iumraonml  to  aitrad  the  etnori 
•I  Covrniiv ;  but  these  lonlt,  niiaimning  the  (jumn  and  SumeTwi,  n- 
tiinl  to  three  remote  lUtionR ;  Tnrii  u>  hii  dmtesnpfl  on  llie  muclin, 
vhm  he  had  Uie  alaW  anil  power  of  t  sonnign  ;  Sah^biir^-  to  hi*  n<il( 
of  Middleham,  in  Yoriiihire ;  «nJ  Warwick  to  his  (t"*enimpni  iif  (V 
hn ;  of  which  he,  tinfoflunaiely  for  the  cause  of  Liincnsier,  rvuintij 

ftunwinn,' 

The  Ftench  and  Scotch  availed  Ihenuelvet  of  ihe  mtenml  |joiiM»  of 
tlic  iralm  to  attack  (liigland  ihi«  year;  on  which  the  VorkiBin  took  ad- 
▼aiitajje  of  tlie  aggreasiuns  of  her  conntrii'mcii  to  work  upito  the  t\n(ii, 
national  prejudice*  which  were  more  p»werfiilty  fdl  ai  llial  era,  ptrhtM, 
than  at  any  other  period,  lo  nciic  the  ill-will  of  [he  prnplc  against  the 
queen;'  aa  if  Margaret  could  have  preferred  the  inierests  of  her  annft 
hiifbaiid  to  her  own,  and  thni  of  the  father  of  the  child  whom  ahe  lond 
with  such  proud  and  pamionnte  foiidncss.  So  alarming,  indeed,  &i  At 
eoiidu/'t  of  Franre  appear  la  Mar^|u«t  at  lhi«  enais,  that  *he  wu  tbaliiit 
to  Kuggent  the  expediency  of  a  rcroncilialion  between  the  coan  and  ih* 
advene  party  of  York  and  Warwick,  that  the  whole  strength  of  th» 
realm  uiiglu  be  em[4oyed  against  Ibreign  ini^ders.  York  nnd  Wnnrirk, 
by  whom  Margaret  wa*  etjually  haled  and  uii»trusle<t,  (wid  litili-  nueniJM 
to  hpr  pacific  overtures;  but  when  king  Henry,  in  the  ~:  . 
Binceriiy  of  hit  heart,  wrote  with  hia  own  hand  a  patheiii-  r 
of  the  eTils  resulting  from  this  protracted  strife,  and  pr"i< 
woid  ofa  Christian  and  a  king,  thai  novengeancn  shoilJJ  1  i 
any  individual  for  past  offences  o^itinst  ihe  cmwn,  they  fi-li 
poGsible  ti)  doubt  the  honour  and  honesty  of  hia  intenilnna.' 

A  general  cungresa  or  pacifiration  betwoen  the  belligprenl  1 
then  resolved  upon.  To  llie  lord-mayor  of  Lond<in,  sir  Godfrey  B 
was  assigned  the  anluous  office  of  guardian  of  the  public  iramitiitlity'** 
this  extr«or<liciary  occasion;  and  for  this  purpose  ten  thnusnnd  ot  the 
citizens  were  armed,  and  patrolled  the  streets  day  and  night  na  a  naiiMiil 
guard,  to  prevent  the  plunder  and  bloodshed  that  were  only  too  likslv 
to  arise  from  quarrels  between  the  followers  of  lh<!  hostile  peers.  On 
the  tSth  of  January,  1458,  the  earl  of  Salisbury,  with  live  hundred  tnan. 
arrived,  and  took  up  his  quarters  at  his  own  mansion  at  Cold  Harbaor 
The  duke  of  York,  with  four  hundred,  lodged  ai  &.yi.ard's  Castle.  Thr 
earl  of  Warwick  arrived  from  Calais  in  February,  with  a  pompous  re- 
Imue  of  SIX  hundred  men  in  scarltrl  coats.  The  dukea  of  Soioetsei  siiiJ 
F.xuier,  with  eight  hundmj  followers,  lodged  without  Temple  Bar,  in 
Ami  about  Holburn,  and  other  placet)  in  th»  suburbs.  The  earl  (^ 
A oithumbetland  and  his  kinsman,  lonl  Egreniont,  maintained  (lie  fn)<!*l 


utiiillMat   > 


m  MABCABET    OF    AKIOV.  165 

■  of  the  Percys,'  by  bringing  lideen  hundred  roUowers;  bein^  mora 
iiaiy  aiteiidcd  ihan  any  or  ilie  oiher  adlierents  of  itie  red  Rose.* 

Ilow  Huch  a  ciiiigress  ever  caine  to  any  (bing  in  ilie  shape  of  an  ami- 
rkbie  treaty,  inusi  ever  remain  among  the  most  marvellous  of  hiHtorir 
rvcortls.  Two  whole  inoiiihn  were  spenl  in  fierce  debates  and  angry 
rccriminatimis,  before  the  mediations  of  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
iani  the  other  prelates,  produced  ilw  desired  cflecu  The  king  and  queen 
were  easily  satisfied,  for  they  required  nothing  more  than  a  renewal  of  . 
hotnsge,  in  which  the  namef  of  queen  Margaret  and  lier  son  Edward 
prince  of  Wniea,  were  to  be  inrlnded ;  but  the  lords  demanded  pecuniary 
cnmpensalion  of  earh  cither,  for  the  damage  they  had  sustained,  not  only 
in  the  plundering  of  their  respective  castles  and  estates,  but  for  the  loss 
of  kinsmen.' 

The  king  and  queen,  who  had  not  considered  it  pnident  to  trust  their 
perscms  before,  among  the  armed  negotiators  of  ihe  peare,  made  a  public 
entry  into  London,  and  took  up  their  abode,  Mari^h  27,  in  the  bishop's 
police,  which  was  a  central  position.  The  feast  of  the  Annnnrialion 
wko  appointed  as  a  day  of  public  thanksgiving  for  this  pacification,  wheD 
lltB  king  and  queen,  wearing  their  crowns  and  royal  robes,  and  atiended 
by  all  tlie  peers  and  prelates,  walked  in  solemn  procession  to  St.  Paurs 
Citlietlrttl ;  and,  in  token  of  the  sincerity  of  their  reconciliation,  the 
Ittdiag  nieniliers  of  ilie  litely  adverM  factions  walked  hind  in  hand  u» 
getlier,  being  paired  according  to  the  degree  of  deadly  animosity  tliat 
liad  previously  divided  ihem.  The  duke  of  Somerset,  coupled  with  the 
carl  of  Salisbury,  his  ancient  foe,  headed  the  proces.sion,  followed  1^  the 
duke  of  Exeter  and  the  earl  of  Warwick,  in  unwonted  fellowship.  Then, 
behind  lite  king,  who  walked  alone,  came  the  duke  of  Tork,  Icadins 
((iteen  Margaret  by  the  hand,  apparently  on  the  most  loving  tenns  wiili 
each  other.  The  delight  of  the  citizens  of  London  at  this  auspicious 
pagaaot  manifested  itself,  not  only  in  acclamations,  bonfires,  and  other 
fieiia  and  tokens  of  popular  rejoicings,  but  called  forth  some  of  the  halt- 
ing lyrical  effusions  of  their  bards,  in  commemoration.* 

Utt  aooner  was  ^  this  dissimulated  lore-day,"  aa  Fabyan  calls  it,  over, 
ilian  Tork  withdrew  to  the  marches,  Salisbury  to  Yorkshire,  and  War- 
wick to  his  government  of  Calais.'    He  was  at  that  time  lord-admiral  by 

'Stow.      Hnll,     Bapin.  'Si. 

'Tlie  duke  of  York  acnially  consented  to  pny  \h 

■■:  eneaiy.  Edmund  duke  of  SoToorHt.  5U<Jlif,,  lo  n 

..ii,)H(nd  slain  at  St.  Alboiis;  this  inim  lo  be  .ti^id 

Warwidk  and  SalUbury  )iaid  two  llioiuand  d 

, .  ,..<a  CaiToKt. 

§ia  s  apeumen  : — 
"Oiir  iovereijm  if'd.  Qod  keep  alw«]r, 
And  (he  quooti  and  Bichbialiop  of  Cnnletbury, 
Anil  olhsi  Ibal  have  laboured  la  mnke  ibis  love-day — 
O  Ood  preaerve  them,  we  pray  heanily. 
And  London  for  them  full  diligently: 
Kejoice.  England,  in  nincord  and  unitie." 

Cmumuin  MSS.  Viipariao.  b.  iri.  p.  111.  k 
■Bapin.     Public  Aou. 


I 


cui  iiiijuir^  lu  w  pusneu 

committed,  by  pluudering 

cused  her  of  insincerity  in 

little  regard  for  the  glory  c 

repeated  in  the  city,  cauj 

which  her  attorney-general 

and  Clifford's,  and  Bama 

ward  in  which  the  fray  U 

was  followed  by  a  persont 

as  he  was  returning  from  ( 

cbnstrued  this  riot  into  a  p 

destruction.     Margaret  reu 

a  tumult  at  the  palace ;  an 

an  order  in  council,  for  hin 

This  fracas,  whether  origi 

fatal  hour  for  the  queen,  bi 

umvirs  of  the  adverse  part) 

the  sword  once  more  agaii 

again  sheathed,  Ull  it  had  d 

est  to  Margaret,  her  husbar 

King  Henry,  leaving  his 

tired  to  pass  that  Easter  at 

having  nought  else  to  besto 

the  prior.     His  treasurer  h 

knowing  the  poverty  of  th( 

no  other  gaiment  suitable  f< 

one  at  his  need ;  so,  steppi 


^^P  M.lROARfiT    OF     ANJOC.  167 

nte  for  fifty  marks.  Henry  unwillingly  complied  with  ihis  prudent 
wrangemeiit,  but  he  chared  ilie  prior  lo  follow  him  to  Lonilon  for  th« 
money,  which  he  made  ihe  reljciant  treasurer  disburse  in  his  presence. 
Thn  following  June,  USS,  the  court  departed  from  the  melropolia. 
Qlii«n  Margaret  took  the  king  in  progress  through  the  counties  of  War- 
wick. Stafford,  and  Cheshire,  under  U)e  pretence  of  benefiting  his  heitlth. 
b^r  change  o(  air  and  nylvnn  sports.  She  was  accompanied  by  her  son, 
the  young  prince  of  Wales,  llien  in  his  sixth  year,  a  child  of  sin|{ular 
besuLy  and  promise,  for  whom  she  engaged  the  favour  of  all  the  nobles 
and  gentlemen,  in  those  loyal  couniies.  by  causing  him  to  distribute 
Utile  silver  swans,  as  his  (udge,  wherever  he  cume,  and  tn  u)l  wha 
pressed  lo  look  upon  him.  Margaret  displayed  peculiar  tact  in  adopting^ 
for  her  boy,  the  well-remenihered  device  which  had  distinguished  hia 
renowned  ancestor,  Edwanl  III.,  whose  name  he  bore.  So  well  were 
her  impassioned  pleadings  in  hia  behalf  seconded  by  the  loveliness  and 
winning  behaviour  of  the  princely  child,  that  ten  thousand  men  wore 
his  livery  at  the  buttle  of  Blore-heath. 

Queen  Marguet  witnessed  this  fierce  conflict  from  the  lower  of  Muc- 
clesion  Church,  a  small  village,  seated  on  a  rising  ground  in  Slairord* 
ahtre.  King  Henry  was  then  at  Colesluli,  in  Warwickshire;  atid 
Margaret,  fearing  for  his  safely,  sent  lord  Audley  lo  miercepl  llie  earl  of 
Salisbury,  ihen  on  his  mardi  fiotn  MidUleliain  Caalle,  wiili  a  reiuforce* 
meni  of  four  or  five  thousand  Yorkists.  Margaret  sternly  bade  Andley 
bring  Salisbury  before  her,  dead  or  alive.  Audley  posted  himself  on 
Uore-beatb,  at  the  head  of  ten  thousand  Cheshirernen,  disiinguished 
by  the  red  rosette  of  Lancaster,  and  their  leaders  by  the  silver  swana 
woru  on  their  breasts,  in  honour  of  Edward,  prince  of  Wales.  Nearly 
three  thousand  of  the  (lower  of  Cheshire,  cavaliers  and  yeomen,  peHslied 
with  Audlev,  their  leader.  When  Margaret,  from  MncdcilonTitwer,  be- 
held  Uie  fall  of  Audley's  banner,  she  Hed  to  £ccleshall  Custle.'  King 
Henry,  who  wis  dangerously  ill  at  Coleshill,  lay  stretched  on  a  pallet 
durmg  the  battle  of  Blore-heath,  and  the  only  token  of  cojisciousness  ha 
gave  was  tluit,  when  his  people  were  removing  him,  he  asked  iu  a  feeble 
Totce  "  who  had  got  the  day  ?" 

Salisbury,  dirougli  this  victory,  was  enabled  to  form  a  junction  with 
the  duke  of  York's  army,  and  it  was  expected  itiat  the  duke,  who  wow 
boldly  asserted  his  title  to  the  crown,  would  speedily  attain  the  object 
K>  which  ail  his  actions,  for  the  last  twelve  years,  had  tended. 

The  energies  of  queen  Margaret's  niind  increased,  with  the  perils  and 
difficulties  witli  which  the  cause  of  her  royal  huiiband  was  beset.  She 
kad,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  looked  upon  a  battle,  and  though  it 
was  the  disastrous  defeat  of  Blore-heaih,  far  from  being  dismayed,  or 
regarding  it  ax  the  death-blow  to  the  hopes  of  Lancaster,  it  appears  lo 
h««e  had  the  eifect  of  rousing  a  dormant  faculty  within  her  soul  —  the 
eourage  and  enterprise  of  a  miLlar>-  leader.  Hitherto  she  had  fouglit  her 
enemies  from  the  cabmet;  now  she  Iwd  cauglit  the  fierce  excileinenl  of 
e  nobles,  and  kindled  with  the  desire  of  asserting  the  righw 


I 


iu  ijuuiow,  wnere  me  auR< 
in  warlike  array. 

So  greatly  had  the  popul 
of  his  appearance  in  the  p 
nishment  and  confusion,  fo 
against  the  anointed  sovei 
report  of  the  king's  death, 
his  soul  to  be  sung  in  his 
by  this  ruse  deprive  his  adv 
But  the  sturdy  marchers  s 
the  queen,  or  impugn  the  ti 
done  to  draw  the  sword  agai 
tion  of  what  was  passing  i 
proclaimed  in  the  king's  r 
nance.    This  was,  in  the 
1  orkist  leaders,  who  replie 
staff  of  reed,  or  buckler  of 
present  guidance.''  * 

Urged  by  his  energetic  < 
of  Ludlow  Castle.  The  di 
tious  antipathy  to  fighting, 
had,  under  similar  circumsl 
letter  to  him,  full  of  protes 
praying  his  sovereign  to  n 
ehewing  his  evil  counselloi 
influence  of  Marfi[aret'8  masU 
with,  and,  therefore,  answen 


,^_ .  -  .1- 


MAROARBT    OW    AITJOU.  109 

fini  CMopttgn  that  was  shared  by  the  queen,  and,  if  we  are  to  credit  the 
aaaertions  o^  all  historians,  directed  by  her  counsels. 

Tliis  signal  victory  having  been  happily  achieved  without  bloodshed. 
Margaret  returned  in  triumph,  with  her  royal  spouse,  to  her  trusty 
firiends  at  Coventry,  where  Henry  commanded  a  parliament  to  meet^ 
November  20th.  King  Henry  appears  to  have  been  more  ofiended  at 
the  mass  that  was  said  for  his  soul,  in  the  camp  of  his  enemies,  than  at 
any  of  their  less  innocent  acts  of  treason.  It  is  mentioned  with  pecu* 
liar  acrimony,  in  the  bill  of  attainder  passed  against  Tork  and  his  party, 
by  this  parliament,  as  the  very  climax  of  their  villanies. 

For  the  security  of  Margaret  and  the  young  prince,  a  new  and  solemn 
oatii  of  allegiance  was  framed  and  sworn  to,  by  the  peers  and  prelates 
€if  this  parliament,  in  which  each  liegeman,  after  engaging  to  do  his  true 
devoir  to  king  Henry,  added  these  words :  ^Also  to  the  weal,  surety, 
and  preserving  o(  the  person  of  the  most  high  and  benign  princess  Mar- 
garet, the  queen,  my  sovereign  lady,  and  of  her  most  high  and  noble 
estate,  she,  being  your  wife,  and  also  to  the  weal,  surety,  and  honour  of 
the  person  o(  the  right  high  and  mighty  prince  Edward,  your  first- 
begotten  son." '  The  king,  by  the  authority  of  the  same  parliament, 
granted  to  queen  Margaret  the  manor  of  Cosham,  with  the  appurte- 
nances, in  Wilts,  and  20/.  yearly  out  of  the  aulnage  of  cloth  in  London, 
in  exchange  for  the  manor  of  Havering  Bower,  which  had  been  settled 
oo  her.' 

The  triumph  of  the  royal  cause  was  brief;  Oslais  and  the  naval  power 
of  England  were  at  the  command  of  Margaret's  determined  adversary, 
Warwick;  and  from  that  quarter  the  portentous  storm-clouds  began 
once  more  to  threaten.' 

Bfargaret  was,  at  this  period,  personally  engaged  in  courting  popu- 
larity among  the  aristocracy  of  Norfolk.  Dame  Margaret  Paston  de- 
aeribes  some  of  her  proceeding  while  in  Norfolk^  in  a  familiar  epistle 
to  her  husband,  which  is  too  rich  a  specimen  of  the  manners  of  the 
times,  and  of  the  arts  used  by  the  queen  to  ingratiate  herself  individually 
with  the  ladies  of  Norfolk,  to  be  omitted. 

LITTIA    rSOX    XABOABIT    PAtTOS. 

*  As  for  tidinKt,  the  queen  came  into  this  town  on  Tucfday  last,  past  alVernoon, 
and  abode  there  till  it  was  Thursday  three  o'clock  ;  and  she  sent  after  my  cousin 
Clixabetli  Clere,  by  Sharinham,  to  come  to  her,  and  slie  durst  not  disobey  her 
oommandinenf,  and  oame  to  her;  and  when  the  came  in  the  queen's  presence, 
the  queen  made  right  much  of  her,  and  desired  her  to  have  a  husband,  the  which 
ye  shall  know  of  hereafter ;  but,  as  for  tliiit,  he  is  never  the  nearer  than  before 
The  queen  was  right  well  pleasetl  witli  her  answer,  and  reported  her  of  the  best 
irise,  aiKl  saith,  *  by  her  troth  she  taw  no  jatUfflwomany  since  she  came  into  Nor^ 
Iblk,  that  slie  liked  better  than  slie  doth  her.*  When  Uie  quoen  was  here,  1  bor^ 
rowed  my  cousin  Elisabeth  Clere's  device  (necklace),  for  I  dum  not  for  sliama 
go  with  my  beads  amongst  so  many  fresh  gentlewomen  (ftuhionably  dressed 
ladies)  as  here  were  at  that  time. 

•*  Norwich,  Friday  before  St.  George."* 

'  Parliamentary  History.  *Ibid.  *.Lingard,  vol.  v.  oh.  li.  p.  213. 

*Fen  dates  this  letter,  ftom  coi\jecture,  in  1452,  but  adds,  ^'  That  Margaret  t/ 

VOL.  III. — 16 


nil  UUiKiri'u  ^llll|||l^:«  iitt-iviii,  iv'i  1.1... II  n^'^-^  • 
an<l  nil  of  us  tlint  were  Hpprnled  for  thnt  oaitr 
to  my  lord,*  hy  ihe  ini^nii?*  of  the  duke  of  Sn 
from  hiiu/  and  witliiti  tiiiii  two  ye<irs  we  wei 
the  queen,  90  that  the  wrote  to  my  lord  to  a 
she  couldf  nor  might,  in  no  ways,  be  assured 
were  about  him ;'  and  much  other  things,  ta 
queen's  writing,  under  her  own  signet  and  s 
lord  of  Canterbury  and  other  lords/'* 

Meantime,  the  band  of  veterans  whic 
Calais  had  swelled  into  a  puissance,  whc 
reported  by  historians,  from  twenty-fr 
men.  With  this  force  he  and  his  militar 
triumphantly  entered  London,  July  2d,  1 
their  ^tcs  for  their  admittance.  On  th( 
measured  swords  with  the  royal  army  a 

So  ardently  devoted  to  her  service  di 
valry,  whom  she  had  arrayed  beneath 
defend  the  rights  of  her  husband  and 
secure  of  victory,  she  induced  the  kin|B 

Ai\jou,  alarmed  at  the  apprtmch  of  Edward, 
a  great  power,  endeavoure<l  to  make  what  ft 
place.",  on  her  journey:}  fur  tliat  purpose,  vit« 
the  kitig's  brothers,  attending  her.  Her  fam 
tlie  Ndrfulk  gentry,"  Now,  as  Edward,  ear 
must  have  been  when  he  appeared  in  ho» 
14(K),  jutt  before  the  battle  of  Northampt 
■tiengthen  her  husband's  cause  in  Norfolk.— 
'John  Mowbray,  duke  of  Norfolk,  in  whos* 


MARGARET 


ror.  171'    I 

md,  crossing  the  river  Nenp,  to  enramp  niih  his  army  in  the  plain  be-    I 
iweeti  Ilnrelngion  and  Saii'litKml.'  I 

The  fiery  heir  of  Tork  then  adranced  hix  Tather^s  banner,  anrl  attacked-  1 
tile  hoHi  of  Lancaster,  at  seven  in  Ihc  morning,  iviih  one  of  hia  iremen*  I 
dou9  charges.  The  battle  lasted  but  two  hours,  and  was  decided  by  th*'  I 
treachery  of  lord  Grey  de  Ruihyn,  who  aclniitled  the  Yorlcists  into  ihd'  ■ 
heart  of  the  royal  camp.  "Ten  thousand  tall  Englishmen,"  says  Hallf  I 
■'u-ere  slain  or  drowned  in  attempting  to  repass  the  river,  and  king  Henty'  M 
himself,  lefl  all  lonely  anil  disconBolate,  was  taken  piiaoner."  ■ 

The  dukes  of  Somerset  and  Buckingham  were  the  leaders  of  the  royar"! 
artny.  Buckingham  was  slain  in  the  battle,  where  also  fell  anolno^  I 
stanch  friend  of  Margaret  and  the  catise  of  the  red  Rose,  John  Talbot,'.  I 
ear)  orShrewsbury,B  son  not  unworthy  or  his  renowned  sire — "TalbotL  I 
our  g<XH)  dogge,"  as  lie  was  called  in  the  quaint,  but  significant  parlancv  4 
of  his  party.     Somerset  escaped  to  fiillil  a  darker  destiny.  I 

<^neen  Margaret  was  not  herself  in  the  battle,  but,  w'ith  her  boy,  ihtf  i 
inlant  hope  of  Lancaster,  was  posted  at  a  short  distance  from  the  seenA  I 
of  action,  on  a  spot  whence  she  could  command  a  prospect  of  the  Relit  I 
and  commiinicnie  with  her  generals.  When,  however,  she  wiuiesseq'  I 
the  treachery  of  lord  Grey,  and  the  headlong  rush  of  her  disordered'  I 
tronpK,  In  repass  the  river  they  had  crossed  that  morning  so  full  ofhopa  I 
and  ardour^  the  pride  and  courage  of  the  heroine  yielded  to  maternd  I 
lermr ;  and.  forgetful  of  every  other  consideration  but  the  preservatioii  I 
of  her  hoy.  ehe  lied  precipilalely,  wilh  him  and  a  few  faithful  follower^'  1 
towardi*  the  bishopric  of  Durham.  But  Durham  was  no  place  of  refugB'  J 
for  the  qiieen,  who  had  previously  incurred  the  ill-will  of  the  citizens,  1 
by  some  arbitrary  measure  or  imprudent  burst  of  temper.  I 

William  of  Worcester  relates,  that  queen  Margaret  and  the  prince  of 
Wales  were  actually  captured,  while  Hying  from  Eggp)>hall  to  Cheater, 
by  John  Cleger,  one  of  lord  Stanley's  Mrranta,  and  spoiled  of  all  h« 
jewels  \  but  while  they  were  rifling  her  baggage,  of  which  her  atiendauia 
had  charge,  she  seized  an  opportunity  of  escaping  with  the  prince.  On 
the  road  she  was  joined  by  the  duke  of  Somerset,  and,  after  a  thousand 
perils,  succeeded  in  reaching  Harlech  Castle,  an  almost  impregnable  for- 
tress in  North  Wales,  where  she  was  honourably  received,  and  manfully 
protected,  by  Dafyd  ap  Jeuun  ap  Einion.  a  Welsh  chieftain,  who,  in 
stature  and  coorage  resembled  one  of  the  doughty  Canibiian  gisnls  of 
metrical  romance.' 

In  this  rocky  fastness,  which  appeared  as  if  formed  by  nature  for  tto. 
shelter  of  the  royal  fugitives,  they  remained  safe  from  the  vindictive  pUP>  i 
suit  of  tlieir  foes,  whde  the  unfurluiiBte  king  was  conducted  to  Londo^*  I 
by  those  whom  the  fortunes  uf  war  had  rendered  the  arbiters  uf  his  ft>tB.'B 
lie  was  treated  with  extemat  marks  of  respect  by  the  victotv,  but  v 
compelled  by  them  to  summon  a  parliament,  for  the  purpose  of  sai 
tinning  their  proceedings,  and  reprobating  those  of  his  fiiidiful  (riendi 
g  the  interval  beiure  it  met  at  Wesimiisler,  and  while  itll  p 


inTitation  lo  take  possession  of  it.  13 
among  his  own  ))artisans,  which  was  a 
of  Canterhury  asking  him,  ^^  If  he  woi 
who  was  in  the  queen^s  suite  of  ap 
sovereign  having  heen  appropriated 
know  of  no  one  in  this  realm  who  oi 
the  haughty  rejoinder  of  the  duke, 
tlie  house. 

The  peers  by  whom  tliese  rival  cl 
man,  sworn  their  liegemen^s  oaths  to  1 
ferred  the  question,  as  to  which  had  t 
self,  or  his  cousin  Richard,  duke  of  Y 
the  power  of  his  rival,  replied  in  these 
his  father  was  also  king ;  I  have  wor 
cradle ;  you  have  all  sworn  fealty  to 
fathers  have  done  the  like  to  my  (at 
can  my  right  be  disputed  r"** 

The  king,  notwithstanding,  agreed,  1 
the  crown  during  his  life,  the  duke  of 
to  the  royal  dignity  at  his  decease.  H( 
who  had  the  custody  of  his  person, 
peremptory  mandate,  for  the  return  o(  \ 
polis,  attaching  no  milder  term  than 
disobedience  of  this  injunction. 

Margaret  was  a  fugitive,  without  an 
money,  when  she  received  this  summoi 
that  the  rights  of  her  hnv  ^•a  i 


■  ABOAKBT    or    AITJOV.  173 

with  Margaret  of  Anjou,  both  by  marriBge  and  friendship ;  and  ffhe  re- 
•olTod  on  trying^  the  efficaey  of  a  persona]  application  to  that  monarch, 
for  assistance  in  this  emerj^ency.  Having  caused  a  report  to  be  circu- 
lated, that  she  was  raisinf  forces  in  France,  Margaret  quitted  her  rocky 
eyry  among  the  wilds  of  Snowdon,  where  her  b^uty,  her  courage,  and 
the  touching  circumstances  under  which  she  appeared,  had  cfeated  among 
her  loyal  Welsh  adherents  an  interest,  not  unlike  that  which  is  occa- 
■ioDally  felt,  for  the  distressed  queens  of  tragedy  and  romance.  The 
populs^  Welsh  song,  *^  Farwel  iii  Peggy  han^^^  is  said  to  have  been 
the  effusion  of  the  bards  of  that  district,  on  the  occasion  of  her  depar- 
ture. 

The  communication  between  Wales  and  Scotland  was  facilitated  for 
Margaret,  by  the  proximity  of  Harlech  Castle  to  the  Menai,  on  which  it 
is  suf^Kwed  she  embarked,  with  her  son  and  a  few  trusty  followers.' 
Her  n^^iations  at  the  eourt  of  Scotland  were  prosperous,  and  her  mea- 
sures so  vigorous,  that,  in  less  than  eight  days  after  she  had  receimed  the 
order,  in  king  Henry's  name,  for  her  immediate  return  to  London,  she 
was  at  the  head  of  an  army,  had  crossed  the  Scottish  border,  unfurled 
the  banner  of  the  red  Rose,  and,  strengthened  by  all  the  chivalry  of 
Northumberland,  Cumberland,  Lancashire,  and  Westmoreland,  presented 
herself  at  the  gates  of  York,  before  the  leaders  of  the  white  Rose  party 
were  fully  aware  that  she  was  in  England. 

The  duke  of  ToriE,  who  had  by  no  means  anticipated  this  prompt 
and  bold  response  to  the  proclamation  he  had  enforced  his  royal  captive 
lo  send  to  the  fhgitive  queen,  left  London  with  the  eaii  of  Salisbury,  at 
the  head  of  such  forces  as  could  be  hastily  collected,  to  check  the  fierce 
career  of  the  lioness  whom  they  had  rashly  roused  from  her  slumberous 
stupor  of  despair. 

On  Christmas-eve,  the  duke  reached  his  strong  castle  of  Sandal,  where, 
with  five  thousand  men,  he  determined  to  await  the  arrival  of  his  son 
Edward,  who  was  raising  the  border  forces.  Before  this  could  be  effected, 
queen  Mamret  advanced  to  Wakefield,  and,  appearing  under  the  walls 
of  Sandal  Castle,  defied  the  duke  to  meet  her  in  the  field  day  after  day, 
and  used  so  many  provoking  taunts  on  ^  his  want  of  courage  in  sufifer- 
ing  himself  to  be  tamely  braved  by  a  woman,^*  that  York,  who  cer- 
tainly had  had  little  reason  to  form  a  very  lofty  idea  of  Margaret's  skfll 
as  a  military  leader,  determined  to  come  forth  and  do  battle  with  her. 

Sir  Davy  Hall,  his  old  servant,  represented  to  him  ^  that  the  queen 
was  at  the  head  of  eighteen  thousand  men,  at  the  lowest  computation, 
and  advised  him  to  keep  within  his  castle,  and  defend  it  till  the  arrivAl 
of  his  son  with  the  border  forces.  The  duke  disdaining  this  prudent 
counsel,  indignantly  replied — ^Ah !  Davy,  Davy,  hast  thou  loved  ne  to 
long,  and  wcraldest  thou  have  me  dishonoured  ?  Thou  never  sawest 
me  keep  fortress  when  1  was  regent  in  Normandy,  where  the  dauirfiki 
himself,  with  his  puissance,  came  to  besiege  me,  but  like  a  man,  and  not 
like  a  bird  in  a  cage,  I  issued  and  fought  with  mine  enemies, — to  their 

'  Notes  to  the  Wsik worth  Chroiucle,  by  J.  O.  Halliwell,  esq. 
■Pennmnt.  •H«ll,p.  93a 

16» 


force  waH  commanded  by  Somerset^  unde 
it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  she  play 
person  on  this^  or  any  other  occasion.  ' 
ambushed  to  the  right  and  left,  under  the 
and  lord  Clifford ;  and  as  soon  as  York  1 
engaged  by  the  van -guard,  they  closed  \ 
Bays  llall,  *^  a  fish  in  a  net,  or  a  deer  in  a 
half«n-hour  he,  manfully  fighting,  was  sli 
Two  thousand  of  the  Yorkists  lay  dead 
Clifford,  on  his  return  from  the  pursuit,  ii 
earl  of  Rutland,  in  cold  blood,  on  Wak< 
of  the  duke  of  York  from  his  lifeless  bo 
presented  it  to  queen  Margaret  on  the 
words : — ^  Madame,  your  war  is  done ;  1 
The  Lancastrian  peers  who  surrounds 
acclamation,  not  unmixed  with  laughter 
of  their  royal  mistress  to  the  ghastly  w 
garet  at  first  shuddered,  turned  pale,  and  a 
by  the  horrid  spectacle  thus  unexpected! 
instinctive  emotions  o(  woman's  nature 
feelings  of  vindictive  pleasure;  and  whe 
upon  ^  this  king  without  a  kingdom,''  w 
the  crown  of  England  from  her  husbam 
laughed — laughed  long  and  violent — and 
her  fallen  foe  to  be  placed  over  the  gati 
(lered  the  earl  of  Salisbury,  who  was  am 

ihm  mi*stff(i\]i\  tliA  frkllnufincr  Ha  v.  JtnH  miuiA 


SABOABBT    OF    AHJOir.  ITS 

Tlie  demons  of  war  were  now  let  loose  in  all  their  destroying  fary, 
«nd  the  leaders  of  the  rival  parties  emulated  each  other  in  deeds  ol 
Mood  and  horror.  Edward  earl  of  March  won  a  battle  at  Mortimer^s 
Croat,  Fehniary  1st,  which  was  followed  by  a  sanguinary  execution,  in 
reprisal  for  his  hroUier's  murder,  and  the  outrage  ofiered  to  his  father's 
mnams. 

Hargareti  howerer,  pushed  on,  with  resistless  impetuosity,  to  the  me- 
tropolis, with  the  intention  of  rescuing  her  captive  lord  from  the  thral- 
dom in  which  he  had  been  held,  ever  since  the  battle  of  Northampton. 
h  must  have  been  at  this  time  she  published  two  remarkable  manifestoes, 
addrened  to  the  English  people. 

«"  By  the  Queen. 

**  Right  tmsty  and  well  beloved,  we  greet  you  heartily  well. 

*  And  whereas  the  late  duke  of  N  '  (York),  of  extreme  malice,  long  hid 

«Bder  eokmr,  imagining  by  many  ways  the  destmetion  of  my  lord's  good  graee 
(Heniy  VI.),  whom  God  of  his  mercy  ever  preserTe,  hath  now  late,  upon  an 
VDtrue  pretence,  feigned  a  title  to  my  lord's  crown  and  royal  estate  (contrary  to 
his  aliegianoe,  and  divers  solemn  oaths  of  his  own),  and  fully  purposed  to  have 
depoaed  him  of  his  regality,  ne  had  been  (but  for)  the  said  unchangeable  and 
true  dispositions  of  you  and  other  his  true  liegemen.  For  tlie  which  your  wor- 
shipful dispositions  we  thank  you  as  heartily  as  we  can.  And  howbeit  the  said 
antnie,  uaiad  (unsteady),  and  unadvised  person,  of  Tery  pure  malice  disposed 
to  eootinne  in  his  crmeUtiM^  to  the  utter  undoing  (if  he  might)  of  us  and  of  onr 
mid  lord's  son  and  ours,  the  prince  (which,  of  God's  mercy,  he  shall  not  have 
the  power  to  perform,  by  the  help  of  you  and  all  other  my  lorcfs  fiiitliful  disposed 
snlgects),  hath  thrown  among  you,  as  we  be  certainly  informed,  divers  untrue 
■od  leigned  matters  and  surmises ;  and  in  especial  that  we  and  my  lord's  said 
son  and  ours  should  newly  draw  towards  you  with  an  uncivil  power  of  strangers, 
disposed  to  rob  and  despoil  you  of  your  goods  and  havomn  ;  we  will  that  ye  shall 
know  for  certain  that  at  such  time  as  we  or  our  said  son  shall  be  di8]»osed  to 
see  my  lord  (Henry  Yl.),  as  our  duty  is,  ye,  nor  none  of  ye,  shall  be  robbed, 
despoiled,  or  wronged  by  any  person  or  any  other  sent  in  our  name.  Praying 
you  in  our  most  hearty  way  that  in  all  earthly  thing  ye  will  diligently  initnd 
(attend)  to  the  safety  of  my  lord's  royal  person,  so  that,  through  the  malice  of 
his  said  enemy,  be  be  no  more  troubled,  vexed,  and  jeoparded ;  and  in  so  doing, 
we  shall  be  to  you,  such  lady,  as  of  reason  ye  shall  be  largely  content. 

**  Given  imder  our  signet." 

Margaret,  in  this  proclamation,  endeavoured  at  the  same  time  to  coun- 
teract Uie  report,  that  her  northern  allies  had  received  from  her  the  pit>- 
miaa  of  pillaging  all  England  south  of  the  Trent,  to  shield  the  person 
of  her  lord  from  injury.  She  added  a  second  manifesto,  in  the  name  of 
her  young  son,  much  to  the  same  purpose,  but  meant  more  paniculariy 
to  re-assure  the  city  of  London ;  for  young  Edward  is  made  to  assert 
how  improbable  it  was  ^  that  he,  descended  of  the  blood-royal,  and 
inheriting  the  pre-eminence  of  the  realm,  should  intend  the  destruction 
of  that  city  which  is  our  lord's  (king  Henry's)  greatest  treasure.''  The 
•ddicas  concludes  with  most  earnest  entreaties  for  all  men  to  have  such 

■Harleian,  543,  48  V.  14.  This  manifosto,  in  whieh  the  queeo^s  personal 
foelings  are  much  mingled,  is  a  rough  draft  in  the  original,  with  the  letter  N  foi 
MMnm,  where  York  is  meant  We  owe  these  curious  documents  to  the  reseaieii 
of  the  rev.  Mr.  Tomlinson. 


Warwick's  army  was  c 

match  for  the  stout  north 

them.     Lovelace,  who  coi 

ing  a  secret  understanding 

of  the  day  were  decided  i 

Torkists  dispersed  and  fl 

nearly  alone  in  a  tent,  wii 

or  three  attendants.     Hit 

northern  muster  arrayed 

Rose ;  for  they  were  unao 

for  plunder  and  for  blood. 

The  queen  was  not  hers 

to  the  scene  of  her  thump 

Qiflbrd's  quarters,  to  anno 

to  greet  him,  and  they  ea 

joy.« 

Margfaret  exultingly  pres 

been  her  companion  during 

chised  sire  and  sovereign, 

on  the  gallant  child,  and  th 

cularly  distinguished  thems 

The  victorious  queen,  w 

northern  lorda,  went  immed 

church  of  St  Albana,  for  th 

ceived  by  the  abbot  and  mo 

door.     After  thia  solemn  off 

conducted  to  their  apartmei 


MARGAKBT    Or    AHJOV.  177 

of  a  nature  calculated  to  irritate  her  no  less  aa  a  woman  than  as  a  queen. 
The  imputations  which  had  been  cast,  by  party  insinuations,  on  the 
Intimacy  of  her  son,  had  naturally  kindled  feeling  of  the  bitterest  in- 
dignation in  her  heart ;  and  the  attempt  to  exclude  him  from  the  suc- 
ression,  in  fiivour  of  the  hated  line  of  Tork,  acting  upon  her  passionate 
■Mtemal  lore  and  pride,  converted  all  the  better  feelings  of  her  nature 
into  fierce  and  terrific  impulses,  till  at  length  the  graceful  attributes  of 
mind  and  manners  by  which  the  queen — the  beauty,  and  the  patroness 
of  learning — had  been  distinguished,  were  foigotten  in  the  ferocity  of 
the  amaion  and  the  avenger. 

The  parties  of  the  rival  Roses  were  so  nicely  balanced,  in  point  of 
physical  force,  at  this  period,  that  one  folse  step  on  either  side  was  sure 
to  prove  fiital  to  the  cause  of  the  person  by  whom  it  might  be  taken. 
That  person  was  queen  Margaret ;  flushed  with  her  recent  triumphs, 
and  cberiahing  a  wrathful  remembrance  of  the  disafiection  of  the  Lon- 
doners, she  sent  a  hauffhty  demand  of  provisions  for  her  army  to  the 
civic  authorities.  The  lord-mayor  was  embarrassed  by  this  requisition ; 
for,  though  he  was  himself  fiuthfully  attached  to  the  cause  of  Lancaster, 
his  fellow-citizens  were  greatly  opposed  to  it  However,  he  exerted  hia 
anthority  lo  procure  several  cart-loads  of  salt  fish,  bread,  and  such  Lenten 
&re,  for  the  use  of  the  queen's  army ;  but  the  populace,  encouraged  by 
the  news  that  tlie  earl  of  Warwidi  had  formed  a  junction  with  the 
army  of  the  victorious  heir  of  York,  and  that  they  were  in  full  march 
to  the  metropolis,  stopped  the  carts  at  Cripplegate.    Maigaret  was  so 

Ciatly  exasperated,  when  she  learned  this,  that  she  gave  permission  to 
r  fierce  northern  auxiliaries  to  plunder  the  country,  up  to  the  very 
gates  of  London.'  The  lord^nayor  and  recorder*  greatly  alarmed,  sought, 
and  (through  the  influence  of  the  duchess  of  Bedford,  lady  Scales,  and 
Elisabeth  Woodville)  succeeded  in  obtaining,  aa  audience  with  the 
qoeen  at  Bamet,  for  the  purpose  of  dissuading  her  from  her  impolitic 
revenge.  Biargaret  would  only  agree  to  stop  die  ravages  of  her  troops 
on  cimdition  of  being  admitted  with  her  army  into  the  city.  The  loitl- 
roayor  represented  the  impossibility  of  complying  with  her  wish,  as  he 
was  almost  her  only  adherent  in  London. 

Before  the  queen  and  the  lord-mayor  had  ended  their  debate,  the 
northern  troops,  whom  Margaret  had  lured  across  the  Trent  with  pro- 
mises of  plundering  the  rich  southern  counties,  had  already  commenced 
their  depredations  in  the  town  of  St  Albans ;  and  king  Henry  broke  up 
the  conference  between  the  queen,  her  kidies,  and  the  lord-mayor,  by 
imploring  her  assistance  in  preserving  the  beautiful  abbey  of  St  Albans 
from  fire  and  spoil.' 

The  danger  that  threatened  their  lives  and  properties,  and  the  disgust 
created  by  the  rash  and  vindictive  conduct  of  the  queen,  decided  all 
London  and  its  vicinity  to  raise  the  white  Rose  banner,  on  the  approach 
of  the  heir  of  Tork,  with  Warwick,  at  the  head  of  forty  thousand  men ; 
and  the  firm  refusal  of  the  Londoners  to  admit  the  queen,  and  her  ill« 
disciplined  and  lawless  troops,  within  their  walls,  compelled  Margaret, 

'Hall.    Gsm.  •  Wethanpstwis.. 


the  northern  aristocmcv  and  the  i 
had  imflered  00  severe!  v  for  their  d< 
to  rally,  at  her  need,  round  the  hi 

w 

aixty  thousand  men  was,  in  the  coi 
bot  her  generals,  Somerset  and  Clifl 
with  the  king*  and  the  Ti>ung  princ 
gaged  the  ri^'al  sovereign  of  Englan 

Edward,  with  nearly  equal  forcei 
of  Warwick,  to  Ferrybridge,  where 
his  men,  early  in  the  morning,  wo 
▼anced  ffiiard  of  the  Yorkists.  Th( 
king  Edward  retrieved  the  fortune 
parted  the  combatants  he  remained  : 
contest  was  renewed  in  the  fields 
redoubled  (iin%  at  nine  the  follow 
**  which,"  savs  the  chronicler,  •*« 
instead  of  palms.'*  A  heavy  snow-^ 
Lancastrian  party,  blinded  their  ar 
those  of  York  with  &tal  efleet  disc 
advancing  a  few  paces,  shot  a  secon* 
red  Rose.* 

The  result  of  this  dreadful  battli 
the  Lancastrians  perished,  is  best  de 
reate  Southey : — 

**Witnet8  Aire's  unhappj  wnter, 
Where  the  ruthless  Clitfbr<l  fell ; 
And   where    Wliarfe    ran   red    with 


MAKO-AKBT    OW    AHJOU.  179 

ttrrow^  in  Alnwick  Park.  This  anecdote  implies  that  the  royal  fugitives 
enjoyed  the  relaxation  of  sylvan  sports,  while  partaking  of  the  generous 
hospitality  of  the  loyal  and  courageous  house  of  Percy,  on  their  disas- 
trous retreat  to  the  Scottish  border.  It  is,  moreover,  the  only  proof  of 
Margaret's  personal  prowess  in  the  use  of  deadly  weapons,  and  shows 
that  she  possessed  strength  of  ami)  and  no  inconsiderable  skill  in  han- 
dling  the  IcMig-bow.  She  had  been  always  accustomed  to  accompany 
the  King  in  hunting,  hawking,  and  other  field-sports,  in  which  Henry 
VI.  so  much  delighted,  and  in  which  he  was  encouraged  by  her,  as 
beneficial  to  his  peculiar  constitution. 

From  Alnwick,  Margaret  proceeded  to  Berwick,  with  her  husliand, 
her  son,  and  a  few  fiuthful  ladies  and  followers,  who  attended  the  peril- 
ous wanderings  of  the  Lancastrian  court.  While  there,  the  desperation 
of  her  husband's  cause  betrayed  the  distressed  queen  into  the  unpopular 
measoie  of  surrendering  Berwick  to  the  Scotch.' 

She  also  negotiated  a  treaty  of  marriage  between  the  young  prince  of 
Wales,  then  in  his  eighth  year,  and  the  lady  Margaret  of  Scotland,  sister 
to  the  young  king  James  II!.,  having  won  the  friendship  of  the  queen- 
regent,  Mary  of  Gueldres,  and  purchased  the  good  offices  of  the  power- 
fbl  eari  of  Angus,  by  the  promise  of  an  English  dukedom.'  Warwick, 
with  shrewd  policy,  endeavoured  to  traverse  this  negotiation,  by  profler- 
ing  to  the  queen-mother  of  Scotland  the  hand  and  crown  of  the  hand- 
some bachelor  sovereign,  Edward  of  York,  for  herself,  in  lieu  of  a  mar- 
riage between  her  little  daughter  and  the  youuff  heir  of  Lancaster.  But 
Maigmret's  personal  influence  prevailed  over  lul  opposing  interests,  and 
the  prince  of  Wales  became  the  betrothed  spouse  o(  the  princess  of  Scot^ 
bnd.''*  After  all  these  eflbrts  of  Margaret,  the  marriage  was  finally 
broken  by  the  interference  of  Philip  duke  of  Burgundy ,^  who  forbade 
his  niece,  Mary  of  Gueldres,  queen-regent  of  ScoUand,  to  ally  herself 
with  his  family  foe,  Margaret  of  Anjon :  a  proceeding  which  threw  Mar^ 
garet  into  transports  of  rage,  and  caused  her  to  utter  some  vain  threats 
against  the  person  of  duke  Philip. 

While  Margaret  of  Anjou,  with  the  formidable  activity  of  a  chess- 
queen,  was  attempting,  from  her  safe  refuge  in  Scotland,  to  check  her 
adversary's  game,  she  was,  with  the  king  her  husband  and  her  little 
son,  proscribed  arid  attainted  by  the  parliament  of  the  rival  sovereign  of 
En^nd,  and  it  was  forbidden  to  aU  their  former  subjects  to  hold  any 
sort  of  communication  with  them,  on  pain  of  death.*  The  whole  of 
England  was  now  subjected  to  the  authority  of  Edward  IV.;  yet  there 
was  still  an  undying  interest  pervading  the  great  body  of  the  jpeople  in 
frvour  of  the  blameless  monarch  to  whom  their  oaths  of  allegiance  had 
been,  in  the  first  instance,  plighted.  Poetry,  that  powerful  pleader  to 
the  sympathies  of  generoos  natures  in  behalf  of  Mien  princes,  fiuled  not 

*  Lingarcl,  voL  t.  p  *i35.     Rapin. 

*  WoccMUr,  p.  49a    Rymer,  vol  Ik.  p.  438.    Lingard.  *  HaK. 

*  Monstrelec    See  the  ootnmenoefiient  of  this  bfegraphf ,  wlieie  the  enmity  of 
tlie  liotue  of  Burgundy  to  the  fiunihr  of  Ai\)0o  is  explained. 

*  Rolls  of  Parliament    Rymer't  FcDderm. 


The  devoted  nature  of  the  attacl 
Lancastrian  chiefs,  may  be  gathered 
of  her  adherents,  whom  she  had  sen 
private  mission  to  her  royal  kinsma 
letters,  which  were  intended  to  breali 
tons  tidings  of  that  monarches  deat 
Scotland,  but  were  intercepted  at 


"  Mndam, — PIe«M  jam  good  grace,  ws 
to  your  hightieu  thric«,  one  bj  the  carvel, 
Dieppe.  But,  madam,  it  was  all  one  thing 
of  your  uncle's  death  (Cliarles  VII.),  v 
arrested,  and  do  yet.  But  on  Tuesday  oe 
your  cousin-german.  His  eommUgairtg^  a' 
letters  and  writings,  and  bare  them  up  to 
in  keeping  (under  arrest)  at  the  castle  o. 
and  mo  (for  we  had  safe  conduct)  in  the 

**  Madam,  fear  not,  but  be  of  good  con 
person,  nt  my  lord  the  prince,  by  sea,  til 
your  person  cannot  be  sure  where  ye  are. 
And  for  Ood's  sake  let  the  king's  highne 
are  informed,  the  earl  of  March  (E<lwur 
sent  his  navy  thither  by  sea.  And,  moda 
vered.  we  shall  come  straight  to  you,  unit 
we  trust  he  will  not, — till  we  see  the  k 
reulm  ;  tlie  which  we  beseech  God  soon  ' 
ness  desireth.     Written  at  Dieppe  the  30t 

-You 
«1 

These  faithful  adherents  of  Margarc 


MAKOARBT    OV    ANJOO.  181 

for  their  liberation,  as  well  as  to  implore  his  svceonr  in  the  cause  of  her 
unfortunate  husband,  that  Margaret  undertook  her  first  voyage  to  the 
continent.  Leaving  king  Henry  at  the  court  of  Scotland,  she,  with  her 
young  son,  the  prince  of  Wales,  sailed  from  Kirkcudbright,  and  landed 
in  Bretagne,  April  8th,  1462.' 

According  to  one  of  her  French  biographers,  ^  Margaret,  being  en- 
tirely destitute  of  money,  was  indebted  for  the  means  of  performing  this 
voyage  to  the  gratitude  of  a  French  merchant,  to  whom,  in  her  early 
days,  she  had  rendered  an  important  service  at  her  father's  court  at 
Nanci.  He  had  since  amassed  great  wealth,  by  establishing  a  commer- 
cial intercourse  between  the  Low  Countries  and  Scotland.  He  was  in 
Scotland  at  the  time  of  Margaret's  sore  distress,  and  provided  her  with  a 
Teasel  and  money  for  the  purpose  she  required."' 

The  pecuniary  aid  supplied  by  private  friendship  is,  however,  seldom 
proportioned  to  the  exigencies  of  exiled  royalty,  and  Margaret  was  com- 
pelled to  make  an  appeal  to  the  compassion  of  the  duke  of  Bretagne, 
immediately  afler  she  entered  his  dommions.  The  duke  presented  the 
royal  suppliant  with  the  seasonable  donation  of  twelve  thousand  crowns; 
with  which  she  was  enabled  to  administer  to  the  necessities  of  some  of 
her  mined  followers,  and  to  pursue  her  journey  to  Chinon  in  Normandy, 
where  Louis  XI.  was  with  his  court* 

Somerset,  Hungerford,  and  Whyttinffham,  had  been  liberated  before 
the  arrival  of  their  royal  mistress,  and  had  engaged  a  carvel,  or  small 
nerehant-vessel,  in  which  they  sailed  from  the  inhospitable  shores  of 
Normandy,  and,  unconscious  that  she  had  sailed  for  France,  long  ho- 
vered off  the  coast  of  Scotland,  in  expectation  of  being  able  to  convey 
her  to  some  Flemish  port. 

Queen  Margaret  of  England  and  Louis  XI.  of  France  were  the  chil- 
dren of  a  tenderly  attached  brother  and  sister,  Ren^  and  Mary  of  Anjou, 
and  they  had  been  companions  in  childhood ;  but  the  ties  of  kindred 
and  afiection  were  little  regarded  by  the  cold  and  selfish  son  of  Charles 
VH.  When  the  distressed  queen,  with  her  disinherited  son,  threw  her^ 
•elf  at  his  feet,  and,  with  floods  of  tears,  implored  his  assistance  in  be- 
half of  her  dethroned  consort,  she  found  hun  callous  to  her  impas- 
sioned eloquence,  and  not  only  indiflerent  to  her  grief,  but  eager  to 
profit  by  the  adverse  circumstances  which  had  brought  her  as  a  suppliant 
to  the  foot  of  his  throne.  The  only  condition  on  which  he  would  even 
advance  a  small  loan  of  20,000  livres  in  her  dire  necessity  was,  that  she 
should,  in  the  name  of  king  Henry,  pledge  Calais  to  him^  as  a  security 
Amt  its  repayment  within  twelve  months.^  The  exigency  of  her  situation 
compelled  Margaret  to  accede  to  these  hard  terms.  Probably  she  con- 
sidered, in  the  very  spirit  of  a  female  politician,  that  she  made  litde 
aaerifice  in  stipulating  to  surrender  that  which  was  not  in  her  pos 
session. 

The  agreement  into  which  queen  Margaret  entered  with  Louis  did 
not,  as  her  enemies  have  represented,  involve  the  sale  of  Calais,  but 

simply  amounted  to  a  mortgage  of  that  important  place.    This  is  the 

• '  ■      ^ 

*  Lingard.     Hall.         *  PrevotL         *  Paston  Paper*,     fiaranta.         *  Liiicartt 
VOL.  111.  — 16 


•«.^.M.i«j«  Miiu,  amc  uic    rrccrill  8UITCII' 

the  grrai  body  of  the  people  as  ai 
Lou  14  hestowetl  many  deceitful  mark 
negotiation  was  in  progress,  and  she 
with  him  in  the  office  of  sponsor  i 
duchcM  of  Orleans,  afler wards  Lou 
•en ted  at  the  baptismal  font.' 

It  was  fruidesa  for  ^largaret  to  loc 
Ring  R«'ne  and  his  son  were  engagec 
with  Alphonso,  king  of  Arragon,  « 
Proven^  were  over-lazed  to  suppor 
&iled  her  in  her  sore  adversity,  but  h 
her  in  her  attempts  to  redress  the  wr 
dicate  the  rights  of  her  son,  met  wid 
days  of  chivalry  were  not  ended.  ^ 
historians,'^  says  Guthrie,  **  Pierre  Bi 
impelled  by  a  more  tender  motive  thi 
entered  as  a  volunteer,  with  two  thoi 

Breze  had  formerly  been  the  mil 
uncle,  Charles  VII.  lie  was  one  of 
inauspicious  marriage  of  that  princec 
and  he  had  greatly  distinguishet!  \ 
Eighteen  years  of  care  and  sorrow  ha 
who^e  honour  sir  Pierre  de  Breze  ha 
the  **  daisye  flower,''  against  all  chalh 
and  now  she,  who  had  been  the  star 
ehevaliers  of  France,  had  retnmfd  to 


XAEOARXT    OF    A9JO0.  18^ 

noQ  againft  her.'  According  to  some  accounts^  she  resolntely  effected 
her  purpose,  hut  had  scarcely  net  her  foot  on  shore,  when  the  foreiga 
leTy,  understanding  that  Warwick  Mras  in  the  field  at  the  head  of  forty 
thousand  men,  fled  to  their  ships  in  a  panic,  leaving  queen  Margaret,  her 
son,  and  Brez^,  almost  alone.  A  fisherman's  boat  was  the  only  vessel 
thai  could  be  obtained  for  these  illustrious  fugitives,  and  in  this  frail  bark 
they  escaped  the  fury  of  the  storm,  which  dashed  the  tall  ships  of  the 
recreants  who  had  forsaken  them  on  the  rocky  coast  of  Bam  borough. 
Margaret  and  Breze  were  the  first  who  carried  the  evil  tidings  of  the 
loss  of  her  munitions  and  dearly  purchased  treasures  to  her  anxious 
friends  at  Berwick.'  The  fate  of  the  Frenchmen,  who  vrere  cut  to 
pieces  by  sir  Robert  Ogle  when  they  fled  to  Holy  Island,  was  prbbably 
regarded  as  a  minor  misfortune. 

Hope  must  have  been  an  undying  fiteulty  of  Margaret's  nature,  and  at 
this  crisis  it  animated  her  to  exertions  almost  beyond  the  powers  of 
woman.  The  winter  was  unusually  severe,  and  she,  the  native  of  a 
southern  dime,  exposed  herself  unshrinkingly  to  every  sort  of  hardship. 
Once  more  she  sought  and  obtained  assistance  from  the  Scotch,  and 
placed  her  devoted  champion,  Breze,  at  the  head  of  the  forces  with 
which  she  was  supplied.  She  then  brought  king  Henry  into  the  field, 
who  had  previously  been  hidden  in  her  safe  refuge  at  Harlech  Castle. 
Their  precious  boy  she  lefl  at  Berwick,'  not  wishing  to  expose  his  ten- 
der childhood,  though  by  this  time  well  inured  to  hardships,  to  a  north- 
em  campaign  during  so  inclement  a  winter.  This  was  her  first  separa- 
tion from  her  son,  and  doubtless  it  was  keenly  felt  by  Margaret,  who 
was  apt  at  times  to  forget  the  heroine  in  the  mother.  Success  at  first 
attended  her  efforts ;  the  important  fortresses  of  Bamborough,  Alnwick, 
and  Dunstanburgh*  were  taken  by  her,  and  garrisoned  with  Scotch  and 
Frenchmen.  But  these  alliances  did  her  more  harm  than  good  with  the 
people  of  England;  and  popular  prejudice  is  always  more  terrible  to 
princes  ^  than  an  army  witli  banners.'' 

In  the  course  of  this  campaign  a  defection  happened  among  her  own 
party,  for  which  Margaret  was  not  prepared.  Somerset,  for  whose 
house  she  had  sacrificed  so  much,  surrendered  the  castle  of  Bamborough 
to  Warwick,  on  condition  of  receiving  a  pension  from  king  Eldwanl, 
and,  with  Suflblk  and  Exeter,  carried  their  perjured  homage  to  the 
throne  of  that  monarch.  This  was  followed  by  the  fidl  of  Dunstan- 
burgh  and  Alnwick.  Tet  Mai^ret  continued  courageously  to  struggle 
against  fortune,  and  speedily  succeeded  in  winning  back  Somerset,  Exe- 
ter, and  Percy,  to  the  banner  of  the  red  Rose,  and  also  in  re-taking 
those  fortresses.  In  the  spring  of  1463,  Perry  was  defeated  and  slain 
at  Hedgely  Moor,  by  Montague,  and  a  few  days  later  ^  England  was 
again  set  on  a  field "  at  the  fiital  battle  of  Hexham.  ^  King  Henry," 
says  Hall,  ^  was  the  best  horseman  of  his  company  that  day,  for  he  fled 
tfo  &st,  no  one  could  overtake  him ;  yet  he  was  so  closely  pursued,  that 

*  Ho1ingBhe<l.     Trusael.     Monstrelat   •PreTott 

'Hall.     Holingsbed.    TruMeL    Linsard. 

'Hall.    HoUnsshed.  ^Lingard.    HalL 


ihe  division  of  the  plunder,  Margan 
mind  had  been  the  means  of  extrii 
captured  by  lord  Stonley't  followe 
snatched  her  son  up  in  her  arms, 
served  by  the  pitiless  ruffians,  « 
swords^s  points.^ 

When  the  shades  of  evening  doi 
son  crept  fear  fully  from  their  retrei 
refuge,  began  to  thread  the  tangled 
every  other  peril,  the  misfortune  of 
ward's  partisans.  It  was  possible  tl 
into  this  very  danger.  While  Mi 
alarm,  was  considering  what  coun 
light  of  the  moon,  another  robber,  o 
her  with  a  drawn  sword.  Gatherin 
her  situation,  Maigaret  took  her  son 
the  freebooter,  with  the  dignity  of  1< 
her,  she  said,  «*  Here,  my  friend,  sav 

Struck  with  astonishment  at  the 
the  touching  loveliness  of  the  boy 
the  feet  of  the  royal  suppliants,  anc 
of  safety.  A  few  words  explained  i 
Lancastrian  gentleman,  who  had  ht 
and  she  frankly  committed  herself  ai 
prince  in  his  arms,  he  led  the  queen 
ham  Forest,  where  the  royal  fugitive 
attention  as  his  wife  was  able  to  affo 


MABCARBT    OF    ANJOV.  185 

1  btnk  of  the  little  rapid  stream  which  nine  »t  the  foot  of  Blackhill. 
still  linown  by  the  name  of  queen  Mai^^aret^s  Gave,  and  at  the  time 
re  shelter  to  her  and  the  prince  of  Wales  it  must  have  been  sur- 
ded  by  forest  It  is  about  two  miles  firom  Hexham.  The  entrance 
le  cave  is  still  very  low,  and  was  formerly  artfully  concealed  from 
L  Its  dimensions  are  thirty-four  by  fourteen  feet ;  the  hei^t  will 
ly  allow  a  full-grown  person  to  stand  upright.  A  massive  pillar  of 
masonry,  in  the  centre  of  the  cave,  seems  to  mark  the  boundary  of 
ill  which,  it  is  said,  once  divided  it  into  two  distinct  apartments. 
m  warmed  and  cheered  by  fire  and  lamp,  it  would  not  appear  quite 
isoial  a  den  as  at  present 

ich  was  the  retreat  in  which  the  queen  and  prince  remained  perdu, 
wo  days  of  agonising  suspense.  On  the  third  morning  their  host 
lontered  sir  Pierre  de  Breze,  who,  with  his  squire  Barrille,  and  an 
lish  gentleman,  having  escaped  the  robbers  at  Hexham,  had  been 
ing  anxious  search  for  her  and  the  prince.' 

rom  these  devoted  friends  Maigaret  learned  the  escape  of  her  royal 
Mmd,  and  the  terrible  vengeance  that  had  been  executed  on  Somerset, 
her  fiuthful  adherents,  the  lords  Hungerford  and  Roos.'  Margaret  is 
to  have  received  these  tidings  with  floods  of  tears,  the  first  she  had 
I  since  the  overthrow  of  the  despairing  hopes  of  Lancaster  on  the  red 
of  Hexham.' 

few  houn  later,  the  Elnglish  gentleman  by  whom  Brexe  was  accom* 
ed,  having  gone  into  the  neighbouring  villages  to  gather  tidings  of 
ic  events,  encountered  the  duke  of  Exeter,  and  Edmund  Beaufort, 
brother  and  successor  of  the  unfortunate  Henry  duke  of  Somerset 
conducted  them  to  the  retreat  of  the  proscribed  queen  and  the  youth- 
lope  of  Lancaster. 

argaret's  spirits  revived  at  the  sight  of  these  princes,  whom  she  had 
bered  with  the  slain  of  Hexham,  and  she  determined  to  send  them 
leir  powerful  kinsman,  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  to  solicit  an  asylum, 
le  court  of  Dijon,  for  herself  and  the  prince  of  Wales ;  while  she 
>  mure  proceeded  to  the  court  of  Scotland,  where  she  imagined  king 
ry  had  found  refuge.  On  quitting  the  dwelling  of  the  generous  out- 
from  whom  she  had  received  such  providential  succour  in  her  dire 
ess,  she  accorded  all  she  had  to  bestow — her  grateful  thanks ;  but 
dukes  of  Somerset  and  Exeter  offered  a  portion  of  their  scanty 
Ay  of  money,  as  a  reward  to  his  wife  for  the  services  she  had  ren- 
d  to  the  queen ;  but,  with  a  nobility  of  soul  wortliy  of  a  loftier  sta- 
,  she  refused  to  receive  any  portion  of  that  which  might  be  so  pre- 
s  to  them  at  a  time  of  need. 

Of  all  I  have  lost,''  exclaimed  the  queen,  ^  I  regret  nothing  so  much 
le  power  of  recompensinff  such  virtue.'' 

ecompanied  by  Breze  and  his  squire,  and  attended  by  the  outlaw  of 
ham  in  the  capacity  of  a  guide,  Margaret  and  the  young  prince  hei 
took  the  road  to  Carlisle,  where  a  passage  to  Scotland  had  been 

revott 

bey  were  belieed«xi  in  the  Dmrkei>plao6  at  Hexham  withott  triaL      *  Prevoet 
16* 


he  had  provided  for  the  purpose,  a 
the  abduction  of  the  helpless  queer 
were  aware  of  the  captivity  of  the 
enabled  the  queen  and  Breze  to  re 
sad  conviction  of  their  peril.  Tb 
however^  had  enabled  him  to  extric 
course  of  the  night,  and  he  watchei 
of  his  squire.  They  were  then  twc 
sion  of  the  oars,  they  contrived  to 
desperate  stniggle,  slew  some,  and  t 
out  extreme  peril  of  upsetting  the  I 

^fter  tossing  for  some  hours  in 
the  boat  on  a  sand-bank  near  Ci 
chance  of  her  being  beaten  to  pie 
so  near  the  shore,  that  Breze,  wadi 
ceeded  in  conveying  the  queen  on 
ville  performed  the  same  service  f< 
they  had  gained  was  wild  and  bar 
no  fear  of  being  recognised,  since 
they  could  not  believe  any  one  wai 
her  head  and  a  sceptre  in  her  hand 
this  rude  country,  Margaret  remaj 
Breze,  while  she  despatched  Ban 
public  report  the  general  state  of  a 
Henry.' 

The  tidings  were  such  as  to  c« 
energies  for  better  days ;  and  thou 


MktL€ikmmT  ov  Aiijov.  87 

pil^ — Dr.  Morton,  afterwards  the  fiunoue  cardinal  archbishop  of  Toit, 
d  about  two  hundred  of  the  mined  adherenta  of  Lancaster,  shared  her 
jrht 

Her  usual  ilMuek,  with  regard  to  weather,  attended  Mai^ret  on  this 
jrage.  The  first  day  she  sailed,  her  vessel  was  separated  by  a  terrible 
>mi  from  its  consort,  and  during  twelve  hours  she  expected  every 
nnent  to  be  engulfed  in  the  tempestuous  waves ;  and  when  the  vio- 
ice  of  the  hurricane  abated,  her  ship  was  so  greatly  damaged,  that  she 
IS  (breed  to  put  into  the  port  of  Ecluse,  in  the  dominions  of  her  here- 
mry  enemy,  Uie  duke  of  Burgundy.'  She  left  prince  Edward  at  Bruges, 
d  went  on  to  Lille,  to  meet  the  eldest  son  of  Philip  of  Burgundy, 
unt  de  Charolois,  whose  mother  was  nearly  related  to  Henry  Yl. 
'lis  prince  came  out  of  the  town  to  meet  Maigaret,  with  the  greatest 
irks  of  respect  From  Lille  she  passed  on  to  Bethune,  to  meet  duke 
lilip ;  but,  as  he  was  at  St  Pol,  he  sent  a  guard  of  archers  for  her 
eort,  she  having  proposed  travelhng  by  the  way  of  Hesdin,  because 
e  dreaded  the  skirmishing  parties  from  Uie  garrison  of  Calais.  When 
e  arrived  at  St  Pol,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  gave  her  a  very  honourable 
seption,  and  entertained  her  with  grand  festivities.'  When  he  under- 
Kxl  her  great  pecuniary  distress,  and  the  painful  straits  to  which  her 
thful  followers  were  reduced,  he,  with  truly  princely  munificence,  pre- 
nted  to  each  of  her  ladies  a  hundred  crowns :  to  Brez^,  who  had  ex- 
nded  the  whole  of  his  fortune  in  her  service,  a  thousand ;  and  to 
•rgaret  herself  he  gave  an  order  on  his  treasurer  to  pay  her  on  the 
ot  twelve  thousand  crowns.  The  treasurer  took  a  base  advantage  of 
e  misfortunes  of  the  queen,  by  endeavouring  to  defraud  her  of  half  the 
oney.  Margaret,  who  was  not  of  a  spirit  to  put  up  tamely  with  such 
wrong,  informed  the  duke  of  the  villany  of  his  minister.  Philip,  in  a 
wsport  of  indignation,  oidered  him  to  be  put  to  death ;  and  the  sen- 
rire  would  have  been  executed  but  for  Margaret^s  intercession  in  his 
trour.'  She  was  sensibly  touchetl  with  the  generous  treatment  she  had 
;perienced  from  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  whom,  from  her  cradle,  she 
id  regarded  with  the  deepest-rooted  hostility,  and  had  often  been  ac- 
istomed  to  say,  ^  that  if  by  any  chance  he  were  to  fall  into  her  hands, 
e  would  make  the  axe  pass  between  his  head  and  shoulders.''* 

If  this  unfeminine  end  impolitic  speech  reached  the  ears  of  Philip  the 
9od,  he  did  not  allow  it  to  influence  his  conduct  towards  the  Ullen 
leen,  when  she  condescended  to  become  a  suppliant  for  his  bounty ; 
It,  remembering  only  that  they  claimed  their  descent  from  the  Mune 
yal  stock,  he  treated  her  in  all  respeets  m  a  princess  of  the  house  of 
ance,  and  the  consort  of  a  king  of  Englaml.  He  would  not,  bow- 
er, violate  his  treaty  with  king  EidwanI,  nor  sufier  his  subjects  to  be 
rolved  in  her  quarrel  *,  but  when  she  had  stayed,  as  long  as  it  pleased 

Buronte.    Monttrelat     The  latter  saya,  aHer  narrating  the  adventure  in  tbti 

••t  of  Hezbain,  that  Margaret  alter  got  to  the  coatt  and  embarked  for  i>luy% 

lioh  fbowt  that  the  adventure  happened  in  England. 

finmnte,  Chron.  duct  de  Bourgngne.     BaiuUer. 

CUioiuuk'tf  of  Lurraiue,  M^»i.  of  *Ue  BiUiuihe<juo  du  RoL  ^Baraote. 


The  dwiracted  state  of  kinf  ] 
utterly  precludetl  him  from  exert 
thouffh  not  unfreijuently  8olicite< 
cause.  IMie  Proven^l  bards  toot 
haplefis  princess  for  their  theme, 
nke  was  accustomed  to  aaMil  k 
these  strains : — 

*<  Arouse  thee,  ajousi 

Nor  let  ■orrow  tk 

Thy  daiiffbter,  the  i 

Now  weeps,  now 

Rene,  however,  was  compelled 
Man?>ret^s  affliction.  All  he  cot 
asylum  in  her  adTersity.  He  gave 
the  diocese  of  Verdun,  near  the  to 
and  contributed  to  her  support,  as  i 
Here  Margaret^  bereaved  of  all  the 
were  beyond  the  power  of  adversi 
remnant  of  her  ruined  friends,  ani 
the  education  of  the  last  tender  bu< 
she  yet  fondly  hoped  to  see  restore 
expectations.  During  the  seven  yi 
continued  to  reside  with  queen  Mi 
that  his  l>eloved  pupil  was  too  mue 
wrote  his  celebrated  work  on  the  co 
Ltgum  JingUa^^'*  to  instruct  him  in 


M  A  R  G  A  R  E  T     O  F     A  \  J  O  U  .  189 

he  was  many  months  concealed,  sometimes  in  the  house  of  John  Machell, 
at  Crac ken  thorp,  sometimes  like  a  hermit  in  a  cave.  There  are,  even 
now,  traces  of  his  restdenre  in  several  of  the  northern  halls  and  castles. 
The  glove,  boot,  and  spoon,  he  left  with  his  kind  host,  sir  Ralph  Pnd- 
ny,  at  Bolton  Hall,  in  Yorkshire,  are  still  preserved.  They  were  the 
only  gifts  fortune  had  left  it  in  his  power  to  bestow.  The  size  of  the 
glove  and  boot  show  that  his  hands  and  feet  were  small.  There  is  also 
A  well  where  he  used  to  bathe,  which  retains  the  name  of  king  Henry^s 
Well. 

King  Henry^a  retreat  in  Lancashire  was  betrayed  by  a  monk  of 
Abingdon,  and  he  was  taken  by  the  servants  of  sir  John  Harrincrton  as 
he  sat  at  dinner  at  Waddington  Hall.  He  was  conducted  to  I^ondon  in 
the  most  ignominious  manner,  with  his  legs  fastenetl  to  the  stirrups  of 
the  sorry  nag  on  which  he  was  mounted,  and  an  insulting  placard  aiiized 
to  his  shoulders.  At  Islington  he  was  met  by  the  earl  of  Warwick,  who 
iMaed  a  proclamation  forbidding  any  one  to  treat  him  with  respect,  and 
aflbrded  an  example  of  wanton  brutality  to  the  mob,  by  leading  the  royal 
eaptive  thrice  round  the  pillory,  as  if  he  had  been  a  common  felon,  cry- 
ing aloud,  ^  Treason,  treason,  and  behold  the  traitor ."' 

Henry  endured  these  outrages  with  the  firmness  of  a  hero,  and  the 
meekness  of  a  saint  ^Forsooth,  and  forsooth,  ye  do  foully  to  smite 
the  Lord^s  anointed,'"  was  his  mild  rebuke  to  a  ruffian  who  was  base 
enough  to  strike  him  in  that  hour  of  misery.  The  following  touching 
line*,  which  have  been  attributed  to  Henry  VI.,  were  probably  written 
during  his  long  imprisonment  in  the  Tower :— - 


*'  Kingdoms  are  but  caret, 
State  it  devoid  of  ttay, 
Richet  are  ready  tnaret, 
And  hatten  to  decaj. 


Who  meaneth  to  remove  the  rocke 

Out  of  hit  tlimj  mad, 
Shall  mire  himielf,  and  hardly  *Bcapa 

The  twelling  of  the  flood." 


There  are  preserved  two  sentences  written  and  given  by  him  to  a 
L'light'  who  had  the  rare  of  him  :^- 

^  Patience  is  the  armour  and  conquest  of  the  godly ;  this  meriteth 
mercy,  when  causeless  is  suflered  sorrow.^ 

*•  Nought  else  is  war  but  fury  and  madness,  wherein  is  not  advice, 
tot  rashness ;  not  right,  but  rage,  ruleth  and  reigneth.^ 

Q^ieen  Margaret  must  have  felt  the  indignity  and  cruelty  with  which 
her  unoffending  consort  was  treated,  as  the  greatest  aggravation  of  all 
her  own  hard  trials.  She  was  still  formidable  to  the  reigning  sovereign 
of  England,  who  established  a  sort  of  coast-guard,  to  prevent  her  from 
effecting  a  sudden  descent  on  the  shores  of  Enghind.  It  has  been  confi- 
dendy  asserted  that  Maigaret  herself  visited  England,  disguised  as  a 
priest,  in  the  train  of  the  archbishop  of  Narbonne,  in  1467.'  William 
of  Worcester  records,  that  various  persons,  who  were  apprehended  on 

>  MTarkwnrth  Chronicle.     Hall. 

*Nu|pp  Antiqua.  The  Harrington  ikmily  fonnded  their  fortunet  on  the  cap- 
tare  of  the  kinic  at  tir  John  Harrington,  in  the  Niiga  Antiques  expresAly  afllrme: 
and  at  thew  verset  and  linet  are  preterved  in  that  work,  doiibtie.«9.tliey  were 
9  Ten  by  Henry  VI.  to  Harrington't  ancettor.  '  PrcvotL 


in  the  same  year,  many  icticia,  ^  « 
hands  of  king  Edward. 

An  emissary  of  Margaret)  who  ' 
outlawed  adherents  (which  had  so 
and  all  his  puissance)  accused  the 
misMon  to  the  continent,  spoken  U 
conference  with  Louis  XI.,  at  Ro 
castle  to  be  confronted  with  his  ac 
in  arms  with  the  avowed  intenti 
throne,  but  was  forced  to  retreat  t 
him. 

Q]ueen  Margaret,  in  the  Decein 
Verdun,  and  came  to  Tours  with  | 
father,  her  brother,  her  sister  Tob 
who  had  all  assembled  there,  to 
improving  the  momentous  crisis  f 
aod  her  fiuher  were  so  greatly  a| 
opening  for  her  in  England,  that 
floods  of  tears.     Every  one  presei 
cold-hearted  Liouis  XL,  who  is  si 
of  sensibility  on  this  occasion,    f] 
pathy  in  the  griefs  and  calamities 
m  the  circumstances  that  ezcitec 
pect  of  great  political  advantages 
with  all  the  respect  and  honour  tl 
to  himself  demanded,  and  exertec 
reconciliation  between  the  exiled 


MARGARBT    OF    AirJOU.  101 

of  a  mediator  between  these  deadly  foes^  engaged  to  procure  the  queen^B 
fiwdon  for  the  earl.  ^  In  thia,"  says  the  chronicler,'  ^  queen  Margaret 
was  right  difficult,  and  showed  to  the  king  of  France,  in  presence  of  the 
duke  of  Gnienne,  that  with  honour  to  herself  and  her  son  she  might 
not,  and  she  would  not,  pardon  the  said  earl,  who  had  been  the  greatest 
ansa  of  the  downfal  of  king  Henry,  and  that  never  of  her  own  spirit 
might  she  be  contented  with  him,  ne  pardon  him.''  Queen  Margaret 
■bowed  ^  that  it  would  be  greatly  prejudicial  to  pardon  the  earl  of  War- 
wick ;  for  in  Enffland  she  and  her  son  had  certain  parties  and  friends, 
which  they  might  likely  lose  by  this  means,  which  would  do  them 
more  hindrance  than  the  earl  and  his  allies  could  do  them  good." 
Wherefore  she  besought  the  king  of  France  ^  to  leave  off  speaking  for 
die  said  pardon  and  alliance.*' 

The  earl  of  Warwick  on  this  entered  into  a  defence  of  his  conduct, 
owning  ^  that  it  was  by  his  means  the  queen  was  dethroned,  but  that, 
before  he  had  done  or  thought  of  doing  her  any  harm,  her  fiilse  coun- 
•dlors  had  plotted  his  destruction,  body  and  goods,  and  that  no  noble- 
Han,  outraged  and  detpaired  (driven  to  desperation),  could  have  done 
olherwiae." 

It  does  not  appear  that  Warwick  mentioned  the  execution  of  his 
fcther,  the  earl  of  Salisbury,  which  is  almost  a  confirmation  of  the  state- 
ments of  those  historians  who  deny  that  he  was  beheaded  by  Mai^ret 

fn  this  scene,  Margaret  seems  to  have  demeaned  herself  more  like  an 
oflended  woman  than  a  queen  and  a  political  leader.  But  the  more 
loAtly  she  spoke  and  looked,  the  more  submissive  her  former  adversarv 
became.  ^  He  told  her  '  he  had  been  the  means  of  upsetting  king  Eii- 
ward  and  unsettling  his  realm,  and  that  he  would,  for  the  time  to  come, 
be  as  much  his  foe  as  he  had  formerly  been  his  friend  and  maker."  He 
beeooght  the  queen  and  prince  '  that  so  they  would  take  him,  and  repute 
him,  and  forgive  him  all  he  had  done  against  them,  oflering  himself  to 
be  bounden  by  all  manner  of  ways  to  be  their  true  and  faithful  subject 
for  the  time  to  come ;  and  that  he  would  set,  for  his  surety,  the  king 
of  Fruiee.'  King  Louis,  being  then  present,  agreed  to  be  surely,  pray- 
fav  the  queen  Marearet  ^  that  at  his  request  she  would  pardon  the  earl 
or  Warwick,  showmg  the  great  love  he  had  to  the  said  earl,  for  whom 
he  would  do  more  than  any  man  living.'  And  so  queen  Margaret,  being 
likewise  urged  by  the  agents  of  king  Rene  her  father,  after  many  trea- 
ties and  messages,  pardoned  the  ean  of  Warwick,  and  so  did  her  son 

The  earl  of  Oxford,  who  had,  by  the  exigency  of  circumstances, 
been  compelled  to  acknowledge  the  authority  of  the  white  Rose  sove- 
teign  for  a  while,  came  also  with  Warwick,  to  entreat  queen  Margaret's 
•fotgiveness,  and  permission  to  renew  his  homa^po  to  the  house  of  Lan 
easter.  The  queen  received  kU  supplication  m  a  very  difierent  spirit 
from  that  with  which  she  accorded  her  forgiveness  (if  such  it  might  be 

*  ••  Manner  and  Guiding  of  the  earl  of  Warwick.     Harleian  MS.,  edited  by  sir 
Benry  Ellis."     h  it  apparently  written  by  a  fpy  of  Bdward  IV. 
•Uarleten  MS.,  edited  by  iir  H.  KlUs. 


would  not  in  anywise 
France  might  make  her. 
nour  nor  profit,  ne  for 
she  ^  alleged  that  she  wc 
and  of  more  advantage 
deed,  she  showed  to  th 
sent  to  her  out  of  Engla 
her  son  my  lady  princ< 
heiress  of  Edward  IV. 

Qpeen  Margaret  perse 

the  alliance  with  Warwic 

sellors  of  her  father,  kin 

mised  in  presence  of  the 

ther  to  Louis  XI.)  accon 

"  First,  the  earl  of  Wa 

Sl  Mary's  Church,  that  t 

of  king  Henry,  and  sen 

ikithful  subject  oweth  to 

**The  king  of  France  1 

in  the  said  church  of  St 

the  utmost  of  their  powc 

Henry.    Qpeen  Mai|[aret 

fill  to  king  Henry  and  th 

*««  any  reproack 

"  After  the  recovery  of 
regent  of  all  tlie  realm,  a 
lands  and  those  of  the  di 


MARGARBT    OF    ▲IIJOU.  19J 

bm  folk,  he  would  psm  the  see  without  delay.    Louie  gare  a  suheidy 
of  forty-eiz  thoueand  crowue,  beeides  two  tlioueand  French  archers." ' 

According  to  some  of  the  French  chroniclera,  the  prince  of  Walea, 
who  had  entered  hie  eighteenth  year,  and  was  one  of  the  handsomest 
■nd  most  accomplished  princes  in  Europe,  was  very  desirous  of  becom- 
ing the  husband  of  Anne  Neville,  whom  he  had  seen  at  Paris  some  time 
before.  They  were  allied  in  blood,  for  Anne^s  great-grandmother,  the 
countess  of  Westmoreland,  was  Joanna  Beaufort,  the  daughter  of  John 
of  Gaunt,  the  patriarchal  stem  of  the  royal  line  of  Lancaster.  Anne  of 
Warwick  was  co-heiress  to  mighty  possessions,  which  rendered  her  a 
match,  in  point  of  wealth,  not  unworthy  of  a  spouse  in  full  possession 
of  lenl  power. 

While  these  negotiations  werepending,  Louis's  queen  gave  birth  to  a 
fair  son  at  Amboise,  afVerwards  Charles  VIII.  Edward,  prince  of  Wales, 
WM  complimented  with  the  office  of  godfather  to  the  infant  dauphin, 
the  other  sponsor  being  James  of  France.'  Some  historians  say  that 
Margaret  was  the  godmother ;  but  there  had  never  been  any  regard  be- 
tween her  and  the  queen  of  Fiance,  Charlotte  of  Savoy,  who,  being 
desirous  of  marrying  her  sister.  Bona  of  Savoy,  to  Edward  IV.,  had 
always  treated  the  fallen  queen  of  the  Lancastrian  sovereign  with  a  con- 
tempt that  the  high  spirit  of  Margaret  could  scarcely  brook.' 

AAer  the  christening  of  the  young  dauphin,  which  was  solemnised 
with  great  splendour  at  Amboise,  Edward  of  Lancaster  plighted  his  nup- 
tial troth  to  Anne  Neville,  in  the  presence  of  queen  Margaret,  the  king 
of  France,  king  Rene,  and  his  second  wife,  Jeanne  de  Laval,  the  earl 
■nd  countess  of  Warwick,  the  duke  and  duchess  of  Clarence,  and  tlie 
ftithful  adherents  of  the  cause  of  tlie  red  Rose,  of  whom  Margaret's 
oziled  court  was  composed.* 

This  romantic  marriage  was  celebrated  at  the  hitter  end  of  July,  or 
the  beginning  of  August,  1470,  and  was  commemomted  with  feasts  and 
high  rejoicings.  Warwick  departed  from  Angers  on  the  4th  of  August,^ 
leaving  his  countess  and  the  newly  wedded  princess  of  Wales,  as  pledges 
of  his  fidelity,  with  queen  Margaret  and  her  son.  They  were  enter- 
tained with  princely  hospitality  by  king  Rene  till  the  autumn,  when 
Blargaret,  her  son,  and  his  bride,  with  the  countess  of  Warwick,  pro- 
ceeded to  Paris,  with  a  guard  of  honour  for  their  escort  They  arrived 
in  November,  and  Margaret  was  received,  by  the  express  orders  of 
Louis  XI.,  with  all  the  honours  due  to  a  queen  of  France.  The  arch- 
bishop of  Paris,  the  university,  the  pariiament,  the  officers  of  the  Cha- 
telei)  the  provost  of  the  merchants,  all  in  their  habits  of  ceremony,  both 
leeeived  her  and  conducted  her  out  of  the  city.  All  the  streets  through 
which  she  passed,  from  the  gate  of  St.  Jaques  to  the  palace  of  St.  Paul, 
hung  with  rich  tapestry,  and  nothing  was  omitted  that  could  add 


*The  origimil  of  Charles  duke  of  Ouienne't  osth  to  s»»ist  queen  MargAret,  ap- 
Moving  alao  of  the  marriage  of  Anne  of  Warwick,  is  ui  be  found  in  CoUouian 
MS.,  Vespasian,  F.  1 11.  p.  3*i,  r.  o.    It  is  Mgned  by  himself,  AnKer^  July  30, 147G 

'Comines.    Wassninirg.    Villeneuve.     Monstrelet.  *Hall. 

'Comines.    WaMaburg.    Bourdigne.    Vilieneuve.  *  Harleian  MSSi 

TOL.  III.  — 17  " 


•8  on  many  a  previous  one,  it  m^ 
coarsea  fought  ajpiinst  Sisera.'*  Tl 
inga  from  the  men  of  Harfleur,  pni 
often  was  ahe  driven  back  on  th< 
damai^e  to  her  thipa;  till  many  c 
■trance  oppoaition  of  wkida  and  wa 
endeavoured  to  prevail  on  her  to  ti 
to  EngUnd,  m  it  appeaiBd  in  a  mani 
atrong  mind  rejeeted  with  equal  a 
either  magic  or  omens.  She  knew 
fortunea  of  her  hnaband  and  her  aoi 
towna  through  which  Warwick  hail 
London,  had  toaaed  the  white  roae  i 
a  Harry  (— A  Warwick  f  a  Warwick 
holy  Henry  to  the  royal  power  wicj 
lar  rejoicing,  yet  she  had  too  aore  ei 
lar  excitement,  not  to  feel  the  imp 
improve  the  preaent  &vourable  jun 
return  of  king  Edward,  and  the  dc 
Garence  \^  and  her  anxiety  to  reac 
tioned  to  the  deapemte  nature  of 
phtying  there.  Up  to  the  last  moi 
the  sliorea  of  Normandy,  she  con 
munitioiM,  for  the  aid  of  Warwick  i 
On  the  24th  of  March  she  once 
despite  of  all  opposing  influences  on 
cious  voyage  to  Engluid.  The  paa 
might  have  been  achieved  in  twelve  i 
days  and  nights,  which  were  spent 


MAmOARBT    OF    AlfJOU.  105 

of  the  voyage.  It  was  there  that  queen  Margaret,  with  the  prinoe  and 
princess  of  Wales,  kept  theii  Easter-festival,  at  the  very  time  their  cause 
was  receiving  its  death-blow  on  the  fatal  heath  of  Barnet,'  where  the 
weatlier,  as  will  be  well  remembered,  once  more  turned  tlie  fortunes  of 
the  day  against  the  fated  Rose  of  Lancaster. 

When  the  dreadful  news  of  the  deadi  of  Warwick  and  the  re-capture 
of  king  Henry,  was  brought  to  Margaret  on  the  following  day,  she  fell 
to  the  ground  in  a  deep  swoon,  and  K>r  a  long  time  remained  in  a  speech- 
leu  stupor  of  despair,  as  if  her  faculties  had  been  overpowered  by  the 
greatness  of  this  unexpected  blow.'  When  she  revived  to  consciousness, 
It  was  only  to  bewail  the  evil  destiny  of  her  luckless  consort.  ^  In  her 
agony,  she  reviled  the  calamitous  temper  of  the  times  in  which  she 
lived,  and  reproached  herself,^'  says  Hall,  ^  for  all  her  painful  labours, 
now  turned  to  her  own  misery,  and  declared  ^  she  desired  rather  to  die 
than  live  longer  in  this  state  of  infelicity,' ''  as  if  she  foresaw  the  dark 
adversities  that  were  yet  in  store  for  her. 

When  the  soothing  caresses  of  her  beloved  son  had  in  some  manner 
restored  her  to  herself,  she  departed,  with  all  her  company,  to  the 
frmous  sanctuary  of  Beaulieu  Abbey,  where  she  registered  herself,  and 
all  who  came  with  her,  as  privileged  persons.'  Here  she  found  the 
countess  of  Warwick,  who  had  embarked  at  Harfleur  at  the  same  time 
with  her,  but,  having  a  swifVer-sailing  vessel,  had  landed  before  her  at 
Portaroouth,  and  proceeded  to  Southampton,  with  intent  to  join  the  queen 
at  Weymouth.  On  the  road,  the  countess  had  received  the  mournful 
news  of  her  husband's  defeat  and  death  at  Barnet,  and,  fearing  to  pro- 
ceed, fled  across  the  New  Forest,*  ^  and  so,"  says  Fleetwood,  ^  took 
ber  to  the  protection  of  the  sanctuary  of  an  abbey  called  Beaulieu,  which 
has  as  great  privileges  as  that  of  Westminster,  or  of  St.  Martin's,  at  Lon- 
don.*^  A  melancholy  meeting  it  must  have  been,  between  the  despairing 
queen,  the  widowed  countess,  and  the  princess  of  Wales,  now  so  sor- 
rowfully linked  in  fellowship  of  woe. 

As  soon  as  the  retreat  of  the  queen  was  known,  she  was  visited  by 
the  young  fiery  duke  of  Somerset,  and  his  brother,  Jasper  Tudor,  the 
king's  half-brother,  and  nuiny  other  of  the  Lancastrian  nobles,  who  wel- 
coined  her  to  England.  Finding  her  almost  drowned  in  sorrow,  they 
atrove  to  rouse  her  from  her  dejection,  by  telling  her  ^  the/  had  already 
a  good  puissance  in  the  field,  and  trusted,  with  the  encouragement  of 
her  presence  and  that  of  the  prince,  soon  to  draw  all  the  northern  and 
western  counties  to  the  banner  of  the  red  Rose."* 

The  elastic  spirits  of  Margaret  were  gready  revived  and  comforted  by 
the  cheering  speeches  of  these  ardent  partisans,  and  she  proceeded  to 
explain  to  them  the  causes  that  delayed  her  coming  to  them,  in  time  to 
support  Warwick,  and  the  reasons  that  had  induced  her  to  take  sanctu- 
nry,  which  was  for  the  security  of  tlie  prince  her  son,  for  whose  precious 
mkty  ^  she  passionately  implored  them  to  provide."  She  added,  ^  that 
it  was  her  opinion  no  good  would  be  done  in  the  field  ihU  time^  and 

*  Fleetwood's  aironicle.  '  Hall.     Fleetwood.  •  Hall,  p.  296. 

« Fleetwood  t  Cbroiiicle.  p.  S2.       *Hall.     Fleetwood.     Lingard. 


uwing  lo  UU8  cauuon,  aiiu  uio  t 
to  her  cause,  she  had  got  a  great  i 
ward  IV.,  while  her  actual  locality 
advanced  to  Marlborough ;  but,  af 
to  his  own  victorious  forces,  she  r 
intention  of  crossing  the  Severn  « 
Jasper  Tudor's  army  in  Wales.*  < 
the  biogtaphers  of  jfargaret  of  Ar 
to  record,  than  the  events  of  the 
men  of  Gloucester  had  fortified  th 
|Muis,  neither  for  threats  nor  fair  v 
the  city,  through  whom  she  oflerc 
the  obeisance  of  the  duke  of  Gk 
oppose  her  passage.'^ 

Margaret  then  passed  on  to  Te 
a  mile  of  that  place  before  she  c 
her.  Though  she  had  marched  m 
army,  and  was  greatly  overcome 
urgent  with  Somerset  to  press  on 
with  inflexible  obstinacy,  express 
and  take  such  fortune  as  God  sh 
for  reason,  he  pitched  his  camp 
himself,  sorely  against  the  opinio 
experienced  captains  of  the  army 
advanced  guard ;  the  prince  of  Wi 
lock,  and  that  military  monk,  thi 
van  ;  the  earl  of  Devonshire  the 


VABOARBT    OF    ANJOU.  IWf 

m  his  presence  was  most  required  in  the  field,  made  fiercely  up 
od,  calling  him  ^  Traitor  P'  cleft  his  skull  with  his  battle-axe. 
under  Wenlock's  banner,  panic-stricken  at  the  fate  of  their 
id.  The  prince  of  Wales  had  no  experience  as  a  general,  and 
aal  courage  was  unavailing  to  redeem  the  fortunes  of  the  day. 
queen  Margaret,  who  was  an  agonised  spectator  of  the  disconn 
her  troops,  saw  that  the  day  was  going  against  her,  slie  could 
culty  l>e  withheld  from  rushing  into  the  milee  ;  but  at  length, 
1  by  the  violence  of  her  feelings,  she  was  carried  in  a  state  of 
ity  to  her  chariot,  by  her  faithful  attendants,  and  was  thus  con- 
oiigh  the  gates  of  Tewksbury  Park  to  a  sniall  religious  house 
where  her  equally  unfortunate  daughter-in-law,  Anne  of  War- 
countess  of  Devonshire,  and  lady  Katherine  Vaux,  had  already 
ige.  According  to  Fleetwood's  Chronicle,  she  remained  there 
lay,  May  7th,  tliree  days  after  the  battle.  Other  writers  affirm 
vas  captured  on  the  same  day  which  saw  the  hopes  of  Lancas- 
ed,  with  her  ^gallant  springing  yoimg  Plantagenet,''  on  the 
M  of  Tewksbury. 

tnerally  received  historical  tradition,  of  the  manner  of  the  prince 
s  death,  has  been  contested,  because  two  contemporary  chron- 
irkworth  and  Fleetwood,  have  stated  that  he  was  slain  in  the 
ing  on  his  brother-in-law  Clarence  for  help.  In  the  field  he 
was  slain  —  that  part  of  the  plain  of  Tewksbury,  which,  in 
of  that  foul  and  most  revolting  murder,  is  still  odled  ^  the 
?ld.^'  Sir  Richard  Crofls,  to  whom  the  princely  novice  had 
ed,  tempted  by  the  proclamation,  ^  that  whoever  should  bring 
called  prince)  to  the  kinff,  should  receive  one  hundred  pounds 
'  life,  and  the  princess  life  be  spared,''  ^  nothing  mistrusting,^ 
I,  ^  the  king's  promise,  brought  forth  his  prisoner,  being  a 
7ell-featured  young  gentleman,  of  almost  feminine  beauty.'' 
vard,  struck  with  the  noble  presence  of  the  youth,  after  he  had 
sidered  him,  demanded,  ^How  he  durst  so  presumptuously 
realms  with  banners  displayed  against  him  .^' 
scover  my  fiither's  crown  and  mine  own  inheritance,"  was  the 
rash  reply  of  the  fettered  lionceau  of  Plantagenet 
i  basely  struck  the  gallant  stripling  in  tlie  fiice  with  his  gauot- 
1  was  tlie  signal  for  his  pitiless  attendants  to  despatch  him  with 
^rs.  A  small  unadorned  slab  of  grey  marble,  in  the  abbey- 
:'  Tewksbury,  points  out  the  spot  where  the  last  hope  of  Anjou's 
md  the  royal  line  of  Lancaster,  was  consigned,  without  funeral 
an  unhonoured  grave,  among  the  meaner  victims  of  his  vie- 

following  day,  queen  Margaret's  retreat  was  made  known  to 
ran),  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  Worcester,  and  he  was  assured 
ihould  be  at  his  command.  She  was  brought  to  him  at  Coven- 
Uth,  by  her  old  enemy,  sir  William  Stanley,  by  whom,  it  it 

lis  Bcomint  i«  colIaie<1  fVom  the  French  historians  and  oar  own. 
land's  Collectanea.    Lingard. 


son,  Anne  ol  Warwick,  who  had 
of  her  &ther,  her  uncle,  her  yoon| 
princeM  of  Wales,  some  say,  was  i 
this  abhorrent  pageant 

On  the  22d  of  May,  being  the 
her  unfortunate  daughter-in-law  e 
of  the  haughty  victor,  and  it  is  sai 
of  Margaret,'  that  they  trarelled 
were  so,  they  were  separated  immi 
was  incarcerated  in  one  of  the  mc 
that  gloomy  fortress  where  her  re 
that  husband  to  whom  she  was  no 
tion,  and  yet  was  to  behold  no  mc 

The  same  night  that  Margaret  o 
the  Tower  of  London,  she  was  mi 
deren  and  twelve  of  the  oVlock," 
king  Henry,  being  prisoner  in  the 
Gloucester  and  divers  of  his  me 
^  Mav  God  give  him  time  for  repei 
ftacrifegious  hands  on  the  Lord's  a 
Chronicles  of  Croyland.* 

Tradition  points  out  an  octago 
the  scene  of  the  midnight  murder 
had,  for  five  years,  eaten  the  breai 
tivity,  from  H65.     A  few  learned 

'PwTOIIt 


MAftGARBT    OF    AlfJOU. 


was  the  companion  of  his  solitude,  his  relies,  and  the 

ts  of  one  or  two  learned  monks,  who  were  permitted  to  ad- 

3  his  spiritual  wants,  were  all  the  solaces  he  received  in  hia 

hirty  years  aAer  his  death,  a  metrical  life  of  Henry  VI.  was 

hy  a  monk  of  Windsor,  his  contemporary.    It  opens  with  a 

latin  hymn,  of  which,  with  the  assistance  of  a  learned  friend,^ 

bled  to  ofier  the  reader  a  literal  tranalation,  in  the  original 


l|    MILSt    VBtOIOttl 


With  spotless  goodness  crown*d  1 
By  sorrow  stricken  and  oppressed ; 
To  those  who  Taanlf  sigh  for  rest, 

Mirror  of  patienoe  found. 


IT. 

«*  Hail,  beacon  of  celestial  light, 
Whose  beams  may  guide  oar  steps 
aright, 
Thy  blessed  course  to  trace! 
In  Tirtue's  paths  for  cTer  seen, 
Kild,  and  ineffably  serene, 
Radiant  with  erery  grace. 

T. 

**  Hail,  whom  the  King  of  endless  time 
Hath  caird  to  angel  choirs  sublime, 

In  realms  for  tret  bless'd ! 
May  we,  who  now  admiring  raise 
These  all-unworthy  notes  of  praise, 

Share  in  thy  glorious  rest!"* 


I. 

iry,  soldier  of  the  Lordl 
all  precious  gifts  accord, 
of  the  hearenly  Tine ; 
charity  and  Iotc, 
blooming  as  aboTe, 
ints  angelic  shine. 

II. 

'^er  of  true  nobility! 
ind  pmise,  and  dignity, 
thy  diadem ; 
ler  of  the  fatherless, 
le's  succour  in  distress ; 
urch*s  strength  and  gem. 

III. 

IS  king,  in  whom  we  see 
?s  of  humility 

Id  ward  and  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  as  if  apprehensiTe  of  some 
)f  popular  indignation,  left  London  early  in  the  same  morning 
tragic  pageant,  of  exposing  the  coipse  of  their  royal  victim  to 
w,  was  to  take  place ;'  an  exhibition  that  was  a  matter  of  poli* 
diency,  to  prevent  any  further  attempts  for  his  deliverance, 
ly  after  the  Ascension,  the  last  Lancastrian  king  was  ^  borne 
on  the  bier,^'  surrounded  by  more  glaives  and  bills  than  torches. 
Cheapside  to  St  PauPs,  that  every  man  might  see  him ;  ^  and 
silent  witness  of  the  blood,  that  welled  from  his  fresh  wounds 
pavement,  gave  an  indubitable  token  of  the  manner  of  his 
The  same  awful  circumstance  occurred  when  they  brought 
iackfriars,  and  this  is  recorded  by  four  contemporary  authori- 
laint  but  powerful  language.* 

rief  was  the  interval  between  the  death  and  funeral  of  holy 
In  the  evening  his  bloody  hearse  was  placed  in  a  lighted  barga 

rl.  Howard,  esq.,  M.P.  for  Carlisle,  to  whose  learning,  research,  and 
kindness,  I  haTe  been  deeply  indebted  in  the  course  of  this  work. 
ginal  Latin  stanzas  are  printed  in  Mr.  Halliwell's  introduction  to  hii 
tlition  of  the  Warkworth  Chronicle,  p.  20 ;  published  by  the  Camdsa 

■  Warkwonh  Chronicle,  p.  31. 
ondon  Chron.  Bibl.  Cotton.    Vitell,  A.  XTi  fol.  133. 
ortli,  p.  2L     Habingtoo.    Fbbyan.    Croyland  Chnm. 


aJl  died  within  a  few  \ 
vered  from  the  stupor  o 
repeated  bereavements, 
calamities  that  had  befa 
sufferings  he  shed  those 
own.  Under  the  influx 
touchmg  letter  to  Margi 

Dies  for  the  death  of  hef 

J*  My  chUd,  may  God 

wd  of  man  tendered  in  s 

thought  from  your  own 

11?^^^  yet  would  1  CO 

The  imprisonment  of 

It  was,  after  a  ume,  amel 

Edward's  Qqeen,  Elizabe 

remembrance  of  the  ben< 

mistress^    Alargaret  was 

Walliiigford,  where  she  s< 

castellaine,  Alice  Chaucei 

lie ;  at  least  such  we  thim 

•Uon,  in  one  of  the  Pasto 

^ueen  Ma^ga^e^  I  undei 

n  alJmgford,  nigh  to  Ewej 

Five  marks  a-week  wej 

oi  the  unfortunate  Mam 

CasUe.    Her  tender-beari 

shakspeare.  in  hin  tr.»^» 


MARGARET    I 


OV.  SOU 

nerlions  for  her  emancipaiion,  which  was  al  length  accompliBhed,  U 
;he  sacritice  of  his  inheritance  of  Proven(;e,  which  he  ceileJ  lo  I>iuts 
jCI.  al  Lyons,  in  1475.  foi  half  ils  value,  that  hn  might  deliver  hia  b»- 
lovetl  child  from  coptiviiy.  Yolaote  and  her  aoa  murmured  a  Utile  al 
ihifl  loM,  but  they  appear,  nevertheless,  fond  of  Margaret.  The  agree- 
ment between  Edwanl  IV.  and  Louis  XI.,  far  the  lensom  of  Margaret  of 
Anjou  was  finally  settled,  August  'iSth,  1475,  while  Edward  was  in 
Fiance.  Louis  undertook  to  pay  fifty  thousand  crowns  for  tier  libera- 
tion, at  tive  instalments.'  The  Rrsl  instalment  of  her  ransom  was  paid 
to  Edward's  treasurer,  lord  John  Howard,  November  3d,  the  same  year, 
Mut  the  bereaved  and  broken-hearted  widow  of  the  holy  Henry,  afttc 
five  years'  captivity,  was  conducted  from  her  prison  al  Wallingfiitd 
Caatle  to  Sandwich.  In  her  journey  through  Kent  she  was  conMtgned 
to  the  care  and  hospitality  of  John  llaute.'  a  squire  of  that  countVf 
strongly  in  the  interests  of  the  house  of  York,  who  attended  her  to 
Sandwich,  where  she  embarked.  Her  reiinue,  when  she  landed  in 
France,  according  to  Prevost,  consisted  of  three  ladies  and  seven  gentW 
men  ;  but  these  must  have  been  sent  by  tlie  King  of  France,  since  iIM' 
miserable  sum  allotted  to  Haute  for  her  travelling  eipeus«s  allows  fof 
little  attendance.  The  feelings  may  be  imagined  with  which  she  took 
a  last  farewell  of  the  English  shores,  where,  thirty  years  before,  she  baA 
lojided  in  the  pride  and  flush  of  youthful  beauty,  as  its  monarch's  bridsi 
and  all  tiic  chivalry  of  ilie  land  thronged  to  meet  sod  do  her  honour. 
Now  it  was  treason  even  to  shed  a  tear  of  pity  for  her  sore  affliction*, 
or  to  apeak  a  word  of  comfort  lo  her.  Truly  might  she  have  said,  "■  See 
if  any  sorrow  be  like  unto  niy  sorrow  !" 

She  safely  arrived  at  Dieppe,  in  the  bejtinning  of  January,  1476-  It 
vu  requisite,  for  the  validity  of  the  deeds  of  renunciation  she  hod  to 
li^.tliat  she  should  be  at  liberty.  Thenfore,  iiir  ThoniBS  Montgomtr; 
took  her  to  Rouen,  and  on  the  22d  resigned  her  to  the  French  ambe»- 
ssdnm;  and  on  tlie  20tK  of  January  she  signed  a  formal  lenunciation 
of  all  rights  her  marriage  in  England  had  given  her. 

There  is  something  touching  in  the  very  simplicity  of  the  Ijiiin  sen- 
tence with  which  the  deed  begins,  that  was  wrung  from  the  broken- 
Itnned  heroine,  who  hail,  through  so  many  storms  of  adversity,  defended 
Ihs  rights  of  her  royal  consort  and  son.  While  they  remained  in  life, 
tine  would  have  died  a  lliousand  deaths,  rolher  Itian  relinquish  even  tll« 

t^oM  shadowy  of  their  claims ;  but  the  dear  ones  were  no  more,  and 
■<■  Ambition,  pride,  llie  rival  namci        I      Wiiii  n!!i)ii-ir  Inng-contcilcx) rUimt, 
Of  Yuik  and  Lancastri,  {  U'Lat  were  Ihcy  Uien  »  tier !" 

^Paasively.  and  almost  as  a  matter  of  indiflerence,  Margaret  subscribe"! 
wtt  innrnment  commencing.  -^  Elgo  Margarita,  olim  in  regno  Anglia  ma- 
inta,'*  &c.  "  1,  Mai^;aret,  formerly  in  England  married,  renounce  nil 
Qtat  I  eould  pretend  to  in  England  by  the  conditions  of  my  marriage, 
with  all  other  things  there,  to  Edward,  now  king  of  England."'    Thia 

'Rymer.  and  Fiencti  Archivci.  'Issue  Rolls.  Appendix.  I'jiwatd  IV 

•Brmcr,  vol.  xu.  p.  31.     Ihi  Tillel,  143.     Atotiiv»  de  Fniic«,^\1. 


1 

I 


life.'     Afier  Normandy  h 

some  colonies  of  Englis 

one  or  two  of  these  seltli 

unable  to  emigrate  to  th( 

flcious  of  these  circumsta 

day's  journey  from  Roue 

tents.     Curiosity  led  a  cr 

when  the  word  passed 

returning  from  England 

**  she  had  been  the  origi 

consequently,  of  all  their 

gwince  upon  her."     WitI 

but  fortunately  she  had  t 

gentlemen,  her  attendants 

swords,  till  the  French  aui 

fered,  and  rescued  the  ur 

She  retraced  her  steps  imi 

protection  she  had  before 

We  now  come  to  that 

of  our  times,  lord  Morpet 

"  Anjou's  I< 

Like  Naomi,  Maigaret  n 
but,  not  like  her,  attende 
the  unhappy  widow  of  hei 
ward's  brother,  Richard  o 
branded  as  thp  murHoror  r^e 


MAKOARST    OF    AftMOV. 

Me  that  Rene,  like  a  (rue  Proren^l  sovereign,  sought  forgetfulness  of 
I  afflictions.  But  Margaret's  temperament  was  of  too  stormy  a  nature 
admit  of  the  slightest  alleviation  to  her  grief.  Her  whole  time  was 
ent  in  painfully  retracing  the  direful  scenes  of  her  past  life,  and  in 
ssionate  regrets  for  the  bereavements  she  had  undergone.  The 
oker-worm  that  was  perpetually  busy  within,  at  length  made  its  rfr- 
ges  outwardly  visible  on  her  person,  and  eflecte<l  a  fearful  change  in 
r  appearance.  The  agonies  and  agitation  she  had  undeigone  turned 
e  whole  mass  of  her  blood ;  her  eyes,  once  so  brilliant  and  express- 
^  became  hollow,  dim,  and  perpetually  inflamed,  from  excessive  weep* 
^ ;  and  her  skin  was  disfigured  with  a  dry,  scaly  leprosy,  which 
insformed  this  princess,  who  nad  been  celebrated  as  tlie  most  beautiful 
the  world,  into  a  spectacle  of  hdrror.' 

Villeneuve  says,  Margaret  seldom  leA  h^t  retreAl  at  Reculee,  with  the 
eeption  of  one  or  two  visits  to  the  court  of  Louis  XL  .  Another  mo- 
ra French  historian  mentions  her,  as  the  person  who  kept  alive  the 
crests  of  the  Lancastrian  party,  for  her  kinsman,  the  young  earl  of 
chmond,  of  whom  Henry  VI.  had  prophesied  ^  that  he  should  one 
y  wear  the  crown  of  England."  But  tne  generally  received  opinion 
that  she,  after  her  return  to  her  own  Country,  lived  in  the  deepest 
elusion. 

A  Burgundian  poet  of  her  own  times,  Geoiges  Chastelain,'  wrote  a 
em  called  the  ^  Temple  of  Ruined  Greatness,"  in  which  Margaret  of 
ijou  is  greatly  celebrated.  A  little  before  his  death,  king  Rene  com* 
sed  two  beautiful  canticles,  on  the  heroic  actions  of  his  beloved 
ughter,  queen  Margaret.'  This  accomplished  prince  died  in  the  year 
80.  By  his  wilt,  which  is  preserved  among  the  MSS.  in  the  Biblio- 
eque  du  Roi,  Ren^  bequeathed  ^  one  thousand  crowns  in  gold  to  his 
ughter  Maigaret,  queen  of  England,  and,  if  she  remains  in  a  state  of 
dowhood,  an  annuity  of  two  thousand  livres,  and  the  ch&teau  of 
leniez  for  her  abode."  He  wrote  a  letter  on  his  death-bed  to  Louis 
!.,  earnestly  recommending  to  his  care  his  daughter  Margaret  and  his 
dow.* 

Afier  the  death  of  king  Rene,'  Maigaret  sold  any  reversionary  rights 
lich  the  death  of  her  elder  sister  and  her  children  might  give  her  to 
f  duchies  of  Lorraine,  Anjou,  Maine,  Profven^e,  and  Bar,  to  Louis  XI., 

*  a  pension  of  six  thousand  livres.    She  executed  this  deed  on  the 

- 

Villeneuve.  *  King-cit-artoit  of  the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleeoe. 

Vie  de  Roi  Ren^  d*A^jou.  *  VilleneUTe.  Momtrelot.  Bibliotheque  du  Roi. 
Through  the  kindnoM  of  Mr.  Beitt,  the  Lancaster  herald,  I  have  been  favoured 
th  a  copy  of  Margaret's  acknowledgment  for  the  first  payment  she  received  of 
t  pension,  with  a  (kc-similie  of  her  signature,  which  is  ekil^mely  rare. 

•  Nous  l^rguerite  Royne  d'Angleterr^  oonfessons  avoir  eu  et  receu  de  Maistie 
nis  de  Bidant,  notaire  et  secretaire  de  monseigneur  le  roy,  et  receveur-general 
•es  flnan.,  la  somme  de  six  mil  livres  tourn.,  ^  nous  ordonnee  par  mon  sei- 
Mir  pour  nre.  ponsion  de  cestc  pnie  ann^  commenc^  le  premier  jour  d'Ooio- 
t  dernier  passS,  de  laquelle  somme  de  vi"  Ir.  nous  nous  tenons  i>our  contents 
>ien  pni^  et  rm  avons  quitte  et  quittons  mon  seiicn'  le  roy  le  dit  roreveur*«lial 
tuutf  auirc».     Ku  te»iui'iai(  tie  cu  nuutf  avou»  ^i^iw  cc»  putes.  de  uro.  main  at 


.—  ••«>«•     v«^    wfta\j    ai 


obtain  the  bodies  of  hei 
but,  till  the  last  day  of  1 
in  England,  to  perform  a 
tliose  offices  deemed  nee 

On  her  death-bed  she 
valuables  that  remained  I 
with  the  pressure  of  her 
her  troublous  pilgrimage 
the  fifty-first  year  of  her 

She  was  buried  in  the 
her  royal  parents,  withou 
excepting  her  portrait,  pa 
A  tribute  of  respect  was 
ter  o(  St.  Maurice,  who,  i 
vespers  for  the  dead,  mad 
singing  a  suhveniu}    Thi 

Margaret^s  elder  sister, 
beautiful  daughter,  called 
Napoleon's  empress,  poss 
there  is  one  sentence  sup| 
inl,  powerful,  and  admirec 

fiut  8c«ll^e  du  aeel  de  nos  i 
qustre  vingts  et  ang. 


ELIZABETH  WOODVILLE, 

QUEEN  OF  EDWARD  IT. 


CHAPTER  I. 

DiMqiMl  royal  marriafra — Pluvnts  of  Elizabeth  WoodTille — Sbe  is  maid  «f 
honour  to  Maigaret  of  Anjou — Duke  of  York  writes  to  Elizabeth — Earl  of  Wat- 
wick  writes  to  her  Ibr  Us  fKend — Sbe  rejects  sir  Ho|^  Johns — Acceptt  the 
heir  of  lord  Ferrers,  John  Otaj — Bradgata— Elizabeth's  son»— 4Sir  John  Gray 
killed  at  St  Albans— Elisabeth's  destitute  widowhood— Captiraies  Edward 
IV. — ^Their  meetings  The  queen's  oak— Private  marriage  with  the  kini^— 
Opposition  of  the  king's  mother — Recognition  of  Elizabeth  as  queen — Her 
sisters — ^Her  brother,  Anthony  Wnodrille  Scene  at  her  court— Coronation — 
Enmity  of  queen  Isabella  of  Castille — Elizabeth  endows  Qneen's  College  — 
Birth  of  eldest  daa^iter — Warwick's  ennllty  to  tiie  queen— Portrait  of  die 
queen — Her  influence— Her  fiither  and  eldest  brother  murdered — Her  mother 
accused  of  witchcraft — ReTolution —Edward  lY.'s  flight — Queen  and  her 
nother  at  the  Tower— Flight  to  sanctuary — ^Birth  of  prince  Edward-^Queen's 
distress — Her  humble  fHende— Return  of  Edward  IV. — Queen  leaves  sano- 
tuary  for  the  Tower — ^Her  brother  Anthony  defends  the  Tower — Re-establish- 
ment of  die  house  of  York- The  queen's  friends  rewarded. 

Thb  fiAeenth  centuiyis,  abore  all  other  ens,  mnarkaUe  for  nneqind 
Barriam  made  bv  persona  of  rojral  station.  Then,  for  the  first  time 
ainee  &e  reigns  of  oar  Plantagenets  commenced,  was  broken  that  high 
and  stately  etiqnette  of  the  rokldle  agea,  which  forbade  king  or  kaiser 
to  mate  with  partners  below  the  rank  of  princesses,  fat  that  centoiy, 
the  marriage  of  the  handsome  Edward  IV.  with  an  English  gentlewoman 
caused  as  much  astonishment  at  the  wondrous  archerjr  of  Dan  Cnpid, 
as  was  fid»led  of  old— 

**  When  he  shot  so  true 
That  king  Cophetna  wed  the  beggar  maid." 

Bat  the  mother  of  Elisabeth  Woodville  had  occasioned  scarcely  less 
wonder  in  her  day,  when,  following  the  example  of  her  sister-iii4aw, 
queen  Katharine,  she,  a  princess  of  Lmembnivh  by  birth,  and  as  the 
widow  of  the  wmrKke  dake  of  Bedford,  the  Aird  lady  of  the  realm, 
choae  for  her  second  helpmate,  another  sqoire  of  Henry  V.,  Richard 
WoodTille,  who  was  considered  the  handsomest  man  in  EngUnd. 

After  the  death  of  Henry  V.,  WoodTille  entered  the  serrice  of  the 
duke  of  Bedford,  on  whose  death  he  was  employed  to  escort  the  yoony 
widow,  who  was  bat  serenleen,  to  England,  where  she  was  dowered  ott 
the  royal  demesnes. 

VOL.  III.—  18  ^?s«J\ 


eorery  ol  her  parent's  mmrnge* 
«•  one  of  the  English  cammutdeis 
*«n««  thu  prince's  fcnncy.* 

AAer  the  death  of  £e  nnibtuiiMti 
oflhe  queeiwiomger  Jomim.  ih»  di 
tee,  u  mnk.  the  fim  Ut  in  Ei»k 
««g»w  of  inllueMe  ia  cmMequence. 

««  to  «eort  MugMet  of  AmoB  to  I 

«''M««d  .t  court,  nde  bioo,  an 

daehes,  of  Bedforf  be«n.,7n«t  fi 

dBches.  was  «i,|  .^eoad  kJT^ 

gw-  more  ezahed  Hmo  herftHtuaiT 

•*•  was  riad  to  proride  for  than  at  tl 

Pre«:     Her  eldeat  daiyhier,  the  bi 

•ppomted  maid  of  h«««rr»  toAat  q» 

*y  to  ffll  her  place  on  the  English  th 

te  royal  misuna,  she  captand  Iht 

Jobot,  a  gieat  lavoiuiie  of  Richaid  dak 

■  the  vorld  wherewithal  to  eodow 

whoae  temper  had  been  proved  ia  i 

■Mwover,  a  timid  wooer.and,  wit  imr 

«o  the  beautiful  maid  of  honour  ZdL 

"""He  to  «peak  himseU: 

Richard  duke  of  York  was  protect 
»^l  •tyle,'  recommended  his  Undless 
one  day  to  share  the  diadem  of  his  hei 


ELtXABBTH 


ILLE. 


"To  ilfime  EUiMbeih  WmlerillP.' 
"  RiBlit  Ifualy  niirj  wcll-bslovpii,  wo  gruel  you  Wi-11.  ^ 

"  For  n»  muoh  ■■  we  ate  cwdibly  inliitmed  tlini  oiir  riglil  henrtjr  nnA  w«Ur 
iif  lovod  Lnight,  sir  Hugh  John,  for  Ih?  gtoBI  wonnnhood  •nd  gpnllenew  sppfOVei 
and  ICDown  in  your  peraon — ye  being  Hole  fsinglej  iind  lo  be  muried — liii  fteut 
wholly  bsve;  Wherewilh  we  are  right  well  pU-B»eil.  How  ba  il  of  your  dtspo- 
•iiion  townrdi  him  in  thai  behnlr,  ni  yet  ii  to  u*  unknown.  We  IhoreforB,  ■>  fat 
the  Ikith  true  «iul  good  lonlalii]!  we  owe  unto  bin  ii  Ihi>  time  (and  no  will  ooa- 
tinue),  we  deairs  and  heariily  pray  ye  will  on  your  pntt  bo  id  him  woil-willed 
lo  iho  perfoiDiuifi  of  this  our  writing  aod  hii  denre.  Where  in  ye  >h>il  do  not 
only  lo  our  plcaaure,  but,  we  doubt  not,  to  your  own  great  weal  and  wcniilp  In 
lime  U  cume ;  uertiQting,  that  If  ye  nilAI  our  inlenl  in  Ihia  mailer,  wb  will  and 
ttuiTI  be  to  him  (ind  you  mKh  lord  ai  thsll  b*  to  both  your  great  weni  atid  wor- 
ship, by  ilip  grace  of  God,  who  preoede  and  guide  you  in  nil  heavenly  lcli«t|f 
and  welfiuel 

"  Written  by  Birntan  DcBi  or  Yoa»." 

Even  if  Elizabeth's  heart  had  reeponded  lo  this  pamesi  appeal  of  har 
lover's  princely  maaier,  yel  she  was  too  sicnderly  gifted  by  fortune  to 
venuire  on  a  mere  We-maich.  She  probably  demurred  on  lliis  point* 
■nd  Bvnitjed  reluming  a  decisive  answer;  for  her  delay  elicited  n  •ecood 
letter,  on  ihe  subject  of  sir  Huirh's  greai  love  bihI  affection.  Tbia  tins 
it  was  from  the  pen  of  the  famous  Richard  Neville,  earl  of  Warwick.  It 
is  not  written  as  if  by  a  stranger  to  a  stratiger;  at  the  Eatiw  lime,  by  faw 
promiKs  of  "good  lordship"  (patronage)  to  Elizabeth  and  her  lover, fl 
is  very  evident  he  considers  himself  as  the  superior  of  both. 

"To  Jame  Elizabeih  Wodoiille. 
"  Wotlliipful  and  well-beloved.  I  greet  you  well,  and  lbra»mnch  my  right 
well-beloved  lir  Hugh  John,  knight  (which  now  laie  was  with  you  unto  hia  fiMI 
great  joy,  and  had  great  cheer,  ai  lie  eoiih,  whereof  I  Ibuik  you},  liaili  iulbrinad 
me  bow  tliHl  he  halti,  for  ibe  ^resl  love  find  slfertion  thai  he  hatb  uiilo  youi  fV 
•on,  fta  well  for  tlie  gteai  ladiieM  ((rriouineu)  and  wiadom  tliai  be  bnib  Ibund 
■nd  proved  in  you  at  thai  time,  aa  Tor  your  great  aod  praised  biaiity,  and  wo- 
manly demeaning,  he  deiireth  with  all  haslo  to  do  you  worthip  by  way  of  mBr- 
riage,  before  any  other  crenlure  living  (as  be  niA).  I  (eonaidering  hia  aaid 
deaiie,  and  the  great  wotsbip  that  he  had,  which  was  made  knight  at  jerunleiti, 
and  s/ter  hia  coming  home,  for  ilie  great  wiadom  and  manhood  that  he  waa  te- 
nowned  of;  was  nude  kniglii-msrshall  of  France,  and  nfter  knighlHniirihall  «f 
England'  unto  hie  gieui  worihip.  with  other  hie  great  and  many  virtue*  and 
desen,  ami  also  the  gnoil  nod  notable  service  that  be  baih  done  ami  daily  doA 
to  me)  write  unto  yon  at  tjiie  time,  and  pray  you  ifftetuou*!)  that  ye  will  Ik* 
istber  (at  ihii  my  rei^ueil  and  prayer)  to  condeacend  and  apply  you  niHo  Ha 
aaid  lawful  and  honest  desire,  whereio  ye  shall  not  only  pnrTry  (provide)  rifbl 
notably  for  yourself  unto  your  weal  and  worabip  (projtt  and  ftoniw)  in  time  M 
come,  aa  1  hereby  uuat,  but  also  cause  me  to  ihow  unto  you  such  good  lordalltp 
(palnnagi')  aa  ye  by  reaaon  of  it  shall  h<fld  you  content  and  pleaaed,  with  'A« 

'The  name  i>  apelled  Wodeville,  in  the  MS.  letters,  which  oonei  very  UMt 
thtt  popular  mode  here  adopted ;  one  of  the  addietaea  ii  spelled  Wodehill,  liul 
ihu  is  a  mere  ilip  of  Ihe  pen,  as  it  is  evident  that  bodi  ate  addtosAed  to  the  eam^ 


I 
I 


a^l  EUcabelb  was  single  i 


^.^  «— •  ^x^mt  ^wcaty-one^  and  tlie 
**tole  and  to  be  nuuried'^ — that  ti 
remarkable  crisis  of  her  life,  when  ii 
wooed  by  the  avowed  partisana  of 
Some  worldly  cooaideratioiis,  beaa 
queen  Maifaret,  aeeoi  to  have  led  i 
MB,  sir  Hi^  Johnea,  and  accept  tb 
and  wealthy  loidahip  of  Ferfen  of 
the  house  of  Lancaster. 

The  time  is  not  dktinctly  spadfted 
▼iile  with  John  Gray ;  it  probably  tc 
the  Yorkist  champion.  This  wedlc 
the  penniless  maid  of  honour;  for 
aoees  of  the  Plantagenet  princesaea. 
lord  Ferrers  of  Oroby,  possessor  o 
which  was  hereafter  lo  derive  such  li 
Eliaheth^s  deacendant,  lady  Jane  ( 
mony,  bv  reason  of  his  descent  from 
nobility.' 

Tradition  declares  this  was  a  moc 

'  See  the  copy  of  the  mooiimental  brass 
•dition  of  Um  Itinermry  of  Giraldas  Cmmb 
LandyniOi  whbh  it  is  expressly  ai&nned  ^ 
of  Noriblk ;  his  lumTery,  and  the  orders  of 
in  the  words  of  the  earl  of  Wnrwiek,  hot  1 
scNne  li^t  on  the  abore  oorrespoodenoe. 
OMntions  no  somame  or  descent.  Sir  Hu 
dren.     His  name  aooeeni  »»  •  •— — -«  •- 


■  LISABBTH    WOODTILLS.  300* 

beth  and  Gny  must  have  been  frequently  separated  by  the  ferocious 
contest  between  York  and  Lancaster,  which  commenced  directly  aAer 
iheir  union. 

An  adrenture  connected  with  the  struggle  for  the  crown,  in  the  last 
stormy  years  of  Henry  VI.'s  reign,  plac^  young  Edward  Plantagenet^ 
then  earl  of  March,  and  earl  Rivers,  the  father  of  Elizabeth,  in  extrior- 
dmary  collision.  The  earl  of  Rivera,  and  his  son  sir  Anthony,  ardent 
partisans  of  Lancaster,  were  fitting  out  ships  at  Sandwich,  by  orders  of 
queen  Margaret,  in  order  to  join  the  duke  of  Somerset's  naval  arma- 
ment in  1458.  At  this  time  sir  John  Dinham,  a  haral  captain  in  the 
•errice  of  Warwick,  made  a  descent  at  Sandwich,  and,  surprising  the 
earl  of  Rirers  and  his  son  in  their  beds,  carried  them  prisoners  to  Calais. 
How  they  were  received  there,  William  Paston '  shall  tell,  in  one  of  his 
letters  to  a  Norfolk  knight,  his  brother : — 

"To  mj  right  worehipful  brother  be  this  lettnr  delivered.  As  for  tidings^  the 
lord  Rivers  was  brought  to  Calais,  and  before  the  lords  by  night,  with  eight-score 
totjhes,  and  there  my  lord  of  Salisbury  rated  him,  calling  him  *  Knave's  son, 
'tliBt  ineh  as  he  should  be  so  rude  as  to  call  him  and  these  other  lords  traitors, 
fi»r  they  should  be  found  the  king's  true  liegemen,  when  such  as  he  should  be 
Iband  a  traitor  I'  And  my  lord  of  Warwick  rate<l  him,  and  said,  *  His  fiither  was 
bot  a  little  squire  brought  up  with  king  Henry  V.,  and  since  made  himself  by 
marriage,  and  also  made  a  lord,  and  it  was  not  his  part  to  have  held  such  lan- 
guage to  those  who  were  of  king's  blood !'  Add  my  lord  March  rate<l  him  like- 
wise. And  sir  Antony  Woodville  was  likewise  rated  for  his  language,  by  all 
the  three  lords.** 

AD  this  rating  seems  to  hare  been  the  denouement  of  some  old  quar- 
rel at  court,  with  the  earl  of  March.  As  the  duke  of  York  had  not 
yet  claimed  the  crown,  but  only  the  right  of  succession,  his  son  dared 
not  take  the  lives  of  Henry  Vl.'s  subjects  in  cold  blood ;  therefore  the 
Woodvillea  escaped  with  the  payment  of  ransom. 

Edward,  lord  Ferrers,  the  father-in-law  of  Elizabeth,  died  December 
18th,  1457.  The  distraction  of  the  times  was  such,  that  her  husband 
had  no  opportunity  of  taking  his  place,  as  lord  Ferrers,  in  the  house  of 

Era.'  He  was  then  twenty-five,  handsome,  brave,  and  manly,  the 
ler  of  queen  Margaret's  cavalry,  a(id  an  ardent  and  faithful  partisan 
of  her  cause.  Elizabeth  had  brought  her  husband  two  sons ;  one,  bom 
jmt  before  the  death  of  lord  Ferrers,  was  named  Thomas,  the  other's 
name  was  Richard.  These  children  were  bom  at  Bradgate,  which, 
daring  the  lifetime  of  her  lord,  was  the  home  of  Elizabeth. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Elizabeth  followed  her  lord  in  the 
campaign  which  queen  Margaret  made  in  1460.     Prevost  states,  that 

BBViously  to  the  second  battle  of  St.  Albans,  queen  Margaret  persuaded 
izabeth  to  visit  Warwick's  camp,  under  pretence  of  requesting  some 
little  &vour  or  assistance  for  herself,  as  it  was  known  that  the  stout 
aari   was  very  partial   to  her;   but  in   reality  Elizabeth   acted  as  a 

lorml  situation  as  a  country  lady  at  GralVm ;  it  is  a  palpable  fkbrication,  and 
ftierefore  not  to  be  quoted  here. 

>  Paston  Papers.     Hall,  Hotingshed,  and  Rapin,  mention  the  incident. 

*  Duffdale. 

18^  ^ 


.«ai  vean  MO.  wer 


■"»•   »B«ra  oia.  wer 

pte.  aiid  Eliaheth  henelf  m 

iiiherii«tiTeboweriofG«Aoii 
The  mother  of  Eliabeih  « 
•bUity;  iiMMDuch  that  the  coini 
Jhemind.  of  men  to  wtcery. 
bawelf  lo  voun;  Edwud,  when 

,1^  •«■«»  i»«g»««,  afler  the  et, 
*M  pnnee  Mid  her  loirf  wd  «» 
^hii  7»loar,  almoM  tamed  the 
.  "^  "  '«uy  noKcoanmble :  I 

ihe  dm  ye«  of  hi.  «ign  ,he,« 

bSSS^  «r*df ring  the  .u 
Bedfofd,  ud  lord  Rim.,  of  hi* 

-mj-l  «V«d  of  her  W,  tSi 
•»^Jl«»g^  and.  third  of.  Ik^ii™ 

Je^o|^Eai-beth,.hree  .ej^l 

„./'  '' P**"We  that  the  fcir  wid 
qu«inied  with  the  rictor,  in  the  d« 
hu,h«,d,  and  that  EJw,Jd'.  Sdd« 

»e  death  of  ,„  John  Giay,  such  i 
WjO-  tn  Uie  l««e  Roll,  J^y  H"' 


&LISABBTH    WOODYILLB.  SlI 

There  she  waited  for  him,  under  a  noble  tree,  still  known  in  the  local 
timditions  of  Northamptonshire  by  the  name  of  the  Queen^s  Oak.' 
Under  the  shelter  of  its  branches  Uie  fair  widow  addressed  the  young 
monarch,  holding  her  fatherless  boys  by  the  hands ;  and  when  Edward 
paused  to  listen  to  her,  she  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  and  pleaded  ear- 
nestly for  the  restoration  of  Bradgate,  the  inheritance  of  her  children. 
Her  downcast  looks  and  mournful  beauty  not  only  gained  her  suit,  but 
the  heart  of  the  conqueror. 

The  Qjueen's  Oak,  which  was  the  scene  of  more  than  one  intenriew 
between  the  beautiful  Elizabeth  and  the  enamoured  Edward,  stands  in 
the  direct  track  of  communication  between  GraAon  Casde  and  Whittle- 
bnry  Forest ;  it  now  rears  its  hollow  trunk,  a  venerable  witness  of  one 
of  the  most  romantic  &cts  that  history  records.  If  the  friendly  entry ' 
in  the  Issue  Rolls  be  taken  for  data  of  Elizabeth's  acquaintance  with 
Edward  IV.,  he  became  acquainted  with  her  soon  after  the  battle  of 
Towton;  thus  she  was  litde  more  than  twenty-nine'  when  she  first 
captiTated  him,  and  her  delicate  and  modest  beauty  was  not  yet  impaired 
by  time. 

Edward  tried  every  art,  to  induce  Elizabeth  to  become  his  own  on 
other  terms  than  as  the  sharer  of  his  regal  dignity ;  the  beautiful  widow 
made  this  memorable  reply :  ^^  My  liege,  I  know  I  am  not  good  enough 
to  be  your  queen,  but  I  am  far  too  good  to  become  your  mistress.'' 

She  then  left  him  to  settle  the  question  in  his  own  breast ;  for  she 
knew  he  had  betrayed  others,  whose  hearts  had  deceived  them  into  al- 
lowing him  undue  liberties.  Her  afiections,  in  all  probability,  still  clave 
to  the  memory  of  the  husband  of  her  youth,  and  her  indifference  in- 
creased the  love  of  the  young  king.  The  struggle  ended  in  his  ofierinff 
her  marriage.  The  duchess  of  E^ford,  when  she  found  matters  had 
proceeded  to  this  climax,  took  the  management  of  the  a&ir,  and,  pre- 
tending to  conceal  the  whole  from  the  knowledge  of  her  husband, 
arranged  the  private  espousals  of  her  daughter  and  the  king.  In  the 
quaint  words  of  Fab3ran,  the  marriage  is  thus  described : — ^  In  most 
secret  manner,  upon  the  1st  of  May,  1464,  king  Edward  spoused  Eliza- 
beth, late  being  wife  of  sir  John  Gray.  Which  spousales  were  solemn- 
ised early  in  the  morning  at  the  town  called  Grafton,  near  to  Stoney 
Stratford.  At  which  marriage  was  none  present  but  the  spouse  (Ed- 
ward), the  spousesse  (Elizabeth),  the  duchess  of  Bedford,  her  mother, 
the  priest,  and  two  gentlewomen,  and  a  young  man  who  helped  the 
priest  to  sing.*    After  the  spousailles  the  king  again  rode  to  Stoney 

*Bsker*8  Northamptonshire. 

*  Edward,  according  to  hit  own  aooonnt  in  the  Fragment  Chronicle  at  the  end  of 
Spioct  (Heame's  edition),  was  bom  at  Rouen,  during  hit  frther*t  regency,  1440. 

*  The  Fragment  Chronicle,  printed  by  Heame,  at  the  end  of  the  Sproct  Chnmi- 
ele,  is  written  by  a  person  who  appears  to  hare  been  a  secretary  to  Thomai 
duke  of  Norfolk,  the  second  duke  of  the  Howard  line.  The  author  of  this  re 
roarkable  history  solemnly  calls  on  duke  Thomas  as  witness  of  these  cTents. 
He  says  many  circumstances  were  fVom  Edward  IV/s  own  mouth.  The  narr»> 
ciTe  is  Tery^rany  and  pen>piciious.  Tliis  Chronicle  dates  the  marriage  of  Eliza 
beth  Wcodville  uiueh  earlier  than  other  authors,  and  adds  to  the  date  he  glTes, 


great  desire  waa  to  provi 
of  the  house  of  Luxeml 
mother  waa  to  marry  thi 
an  embassy  to  his  ally  C 
f  ome  of  the  princes  of 
claim  kindred  with  his  v 
this  head,  ii  may  be  gatl: 
forgotten  and  lost  sight 
they  had  been  incensed  ] 
says,  **  Richard  was  the 
was  an  exceedingly  banc 
the  continent,  or  her  bro 
both."  Jaquetta  was  gn 
ment  of  Elizabeth,  and  t 
membranes  of  her  Flemi 
word  "that  the  corona 
kindred." 

Of  all  persons,  the  mai 
mother  of  Edward  IV. 
queen,  before  the  fall  of 

1463,  the  words,  «» in  the  thh 
of  accideDt  regarding  a  slip  < 
"  The  priest  that  wedded  El 
the  church  of  the  Minoressei 
of  Edward  had  long  prece 
wedded  because  she  was  the 


■  LIIABBTH    WOODTILLB.  313 

field,  was  infuriated  at  haWng  to  give  place  to  the  daughter  of  a  man 
who  commenced  hii  career  aa  a  poor  squire,  of  ordinary  lineage.  Among 
other  arguments  against  her  son's  wedlock  was,  that  the  fact  c^  Elisabeth 
hmng  a  widow  ought  to  prevent  her  marriage  with  a  king,  since  the 
•overeignty  would  be  dishonoured  by  such  bigamy.  The  king  merrily 
answered,  ^  Siie  is,  indeed,  a  widow,  and  hath  children,  and  by  God'a 
blessed  Lady,  I,  who  am  but  a  bachelor,  have  some  too.  Madame,  my 
mother,  1  pray  you  be  content,  for  as  to  the  bigamy,  the  priest  may  lay 
it  in  my  way  if  ever  I  come  to  take  orders,  for  1  understand  it  is  for* 
bidden  to  a  priest,  but  1  never  wist  it  was  to  a  king." ' 

This  is  the  version  king  Edward^  courtiers  chose  to  give  of  the  eon- 
▼enation ;  but  there  is  little  doubt  the  duchess  of  York'  reproached  her 
•oo  with  the  breach  of  his  marriage-contract  with  Elizabeth  Lucy,  the 
predecessor  of  Elisabeth  Woodville  in  the  affections  of  Edward.  Bit- 
terly was  this  per6dy  afterwards  visited,  on  the  innocent  fiimily  of  the 
royal  seducer.  Edward  was  likewise  supposed  to  be  married  to  lady 
Eleanor  Butler,  the  daughter  of  the  great  earl  of  Shrewsbury.  Possibly 
this  was  a  betrothment  entered  into  in  Edward^  childhood. 

It  was  at  the  ancient  palace  of  Reading,  on  Michaelmas  Day,  14G4, 
that  Edward  IV.  finally  declared  Elizabeth  to  be  his  wedded  wife.  A 
council  c^  the  peers  was  convoked  there,  when  the  king  took  Elizabeth 
by  the  hand,  and  presented  her  to  them  as  his  rightful  queen.  She  was 
then  led  by  the  young  duke  of  Clarence,  in  solemn  pomp,  to  the  stately 
abbey-church  of  Reading,  where  she  was  publicly  declared  queen,  and, 
having  made  her  offering,  received  the  congratulations  of  all  the  nobility 
•aaembled  there,  among  whom,  some  authorities  declare,  was  the  eari 
of  Warwick.* 

A  portrait  of  Elizabeth  Woodville,  to  be  found  in  a  fine  illumination 
in  tlie  Haileiaii  Collection  in  the  British  Museum,  represents  her  in  the 
costume  in  which  she  first  appeared  as  a  royal  bride,  at  Reading.  The 
manner  in  which  EUizabeth's  hair  is  arranged  proves  that  the  limning 

*  Catndeii*8  Remsint. 

*  Cicely  of  Raby,  the  youngett  daughter  of  Ralph  Neville,  earl  of  Wetitinore* 
laiul,  by  Joanna  Beaufort,  daughter  of  John  of  Gaunt  Cicely  married  Richard 
duke  of  York,  in  whom  centred  the  Mortimer  title  to  the  throne ;  he  was  the 
ward  of  her  father  and  mother ;  by  him  she  had  Edward  IV.  and  a  large  family. 
The  ducheM  of  York  was  remarkable  for  her  beauty,  and  fitill  more  m>  for  her 
indomitable  pride.  In  the  north  she  was  called  the  Rose  of  Raby,  but  in  th« 
neighbourhood  of  her  baronial  residence  of  Foiheringay  Cattle  the  common  pec^ 
pie  calleil  her  **  Proud  Cis."  She  had  a  throne-room  at  Fotheringay,  where  she 
gave  receptions  with  the  state  of  a  queen.  Curious  portraits  in  painted  glass  of 
Cicely  and  her  husband  are  still  to  be  seen  in  the  south  window  of  the  chancel 
of  Penrith  Church.  They  have  been  engraved  in  Mr.  Jelferson's  valuable  His- 
tory and  Antiquities  of  Leath  Ward,  Cumberland.  Cicely  is  decorated  with  a 
garland  of  gems,  and  gives  tbe  idea  of  a  very  bandiome  woman  in  the  declioa 
of  life.  Her  reputation  has  not  descended  to  posterity  unwathed.  Philip  da 
Comines  scandalises  her  with  derelictions  from  her  duty,  during  the  duke  of 
York's  regency  in  France.  Hence  Charles  the  Bold  and  Louis  XI.  always,  in 
private,  calle<l  tlie  handmme  Edward  IV.  **the  son  of  an  archer." 

*  Ur.  I«ingnrd  rrjects  the  Mory  of  Warwick's  embassy  for  tbe  hand  of  Bona  ot 
hmtoy  at  tlie  time  of  Edward's  marriage. 


•houldera :  it  ii  girded  roond  the  waist 
like  an  officer's  sash.  The  skirt  of  the 
border,  and  finishes  with  a  train  many 
held  up  by  the  queen,  while  the  extrem 
train-bearer,  who  is  probably  one  of  1 
Mtin  petticoat  is  seen  beneath  the  di 
pointed  form,  called  sometimes  emcc 
The  queen  wears  a  pearl  neddaoe  strun 
a  device. 

lllthough  Edward  IV.  was  at  times  no 
and  other  women  occasionally  seduced 
Elizabeth,  from  first  to  last,  certainly  1 
most  dangerous  in  the  hands  of  a  worn 
than  firmness,  more  skill  in  concocting  i 
to  form  a  rational  resoWe.    She  was  eirc 
purposes,  but  she  had  seldom  a  wise  or 
ment  of  her  own  relatives,  and  the  depr 
and  family,  were  her  chief  objects, 
with  her  husband,  by  an  assumption  of 
were  soft  and  caressing,  her  gUuices  tim 

The  acknowledgment  of  Elizabeth's  n 
of  the  most  brilliant  fixes  and  toumami 
England,  since  the  establishment  of  the 
III.  At  these  scenes  Elizabeth  preside 
of  lovely  sisters,  who  were  the  cynosui 
baronage  of  England.  Although  these 
tionless  daughters  of  the  duchess  of  Be< 
to  thirty  unwooed  and  unwedded,  yet  tl 

wera   comnAnihlp  tn  thA   uiniptm  of  h^r 


■  LIZABBTR    WOODVILLB.  315 

the  realmJ  Anthony  Woodville  roarried  the  orphan  of  lord  Scales,  the 
richest  heiress  in  the  kingdom,  whom  the  duchess  of  York  designed  for 
lier  son  Clarence.'  Neither  infantine  juvenility,  nor  the  extreme  of 
jotage,  seems  to  have  been  objected  by  the  Woodvilles,  if  there  were 
I  superfluity  of  the  goods  of  this  world ;  for  the  queen ^s  eldest  brother, 
I  fine  young  man,  wedded,  for  her  great  jointure,  Katharine,  the  dow- 
^^r-duchess  of  Norfolk,  then  in  her  eightieth  year, — ^a  diabolical  mar- 
riage,'^ wrathfully  exclaims  William  of  Worcester. 

Soon  aAer  the  queen  had  made  the  match  between  the  young  heiress 
if  Scales  and  her  brother  Anthony,  the  ladies  of  England  chose  thai 
pliant  knight,  to  sustain  the  honour  of  his  country,  at  the  toumameot 
iiey  expected  would  be  proclaimed  in  celebration  of  Elizabeth's  coromi- 
ion.  On  the  Wednesday  before  Easter-day,  1465,  on  the  return  of  air 
Anthony  Woodville  from  high  mass,  with  his  royal  sister,  at  the  chipel 
)f  the  Shene  Palace,  a  bevy  of  her  ladies  surrounded  him,  and  by  the 
iresentation  of  a  golden  knee-band  figured  with  SS,  and  ornamented 
irith  a  Forget-me-not,  gave  some  mystical  intimation  that  he  was  ex* 
lected  to  remember  his  knightly  devoir,  of  high  emprise,  at  the  corona- 
ion  of  his  sister.  The  antagonist  he  selected  was  the  most  renowned 
thampion  of  Europe,  being  count  de  la  Roche,  illegitinuite  son  of  Phi- 
ip  of  Burgundy*  and  the  constant  companion  of  all  the  rash  eMi||||bes 
>f  his  brother  Charles  the  Bold,  whetiier  in  field  or  tourney.  fSlllUt 
opponent  Anthony  Woodville,  who  had  now  adopted  the  title  of  ioid 
Scales  in  right  of  his  lady,  thus  wrote,*  from  the  palace  of  Shene. 

**  Truth  it  is,  that  the  Wednesday  next  before  the  solemn  and  devout  resurreo- 
ion  of  our  blessed  Saviour  and  Redeemer,  for  certain  causes  I  drew  me  near 
Dward  the  queen  of  England  and  of  France,  my  sovereign  lady,  to  whom  I  am 
igbt  humble  servant,  subject,  and  brotlior.  And  as  I  spoke  to  her  highness  on 
ny  knees,  my  bonnet  off  my  head,  according  to  my  duty,  I  know  not  how  it  hap- 
lened,  but  all  the  ladies  of  her  court  environed  me  about,  and  anon  I  took  heed 
bat  ihey  had  tied  above  my  left  knee  a  band  of  gold,  garnished  uith  precious 
tones  which  formed  a  letter  (it  was  a  collar  of  SS,  meaning  Souvenance.  or  r»- 
oembrance),  which,  when  I  perceived,  truth  to  say,  it  came  nigher  to  my  heart 

*  Sir  John  Paston's  mother  advises  him  "  to  marry  right  nigh  to  the  queen's 
»lood,  so  that  he  could  get  his  land  again'* — a  popular  proof  of  tlie  great  favour- 
tism  of  her  family.  Margaret  Woodville,  the  Gk*tober  aAer  Elizabeth  was  ac- 
Lnowledged  queen,  married  lord  Maltravers,  heir  of  the  earl  of  Arundel.  Soon 
iflerwards,  Henry  duke  of  Buckingham  married  Katharine  Woodville ;  Jacquetta 
narried  the  carl  of  Essex,  and  the  fourth  si:»ter  married  the  heir  of  the  earl  of 
Cent.  In  the  next  September,  the  queen's  sister  Mary  married  the  heir  of  lord 
ierbert,  and  from  this  wedlock  proceeded  the  first  affront  given  to  the  earl  of 
¥arwick,  for  Herbert  was  promoted  to  some  office  which  interfered  with  his 
nterests. 

'  Some  represent  this  lady  as  a  child,  others  as  a  widow.  She  might  in  tbota 
lays  have  been  both. 

'This  alludes  to  an  old  English  proverb  on  marriage,  **That  the  marriage  of  a 
xning  woman  and  a  young  man  is  of  God's  making,  as  Adam  and  Eve ;  an  old 
nan  and  young  woman,  of  Our  Lady's  making,  as  Mary  and  Joseph ;  but  that 
•fan  old  woman  and  a  young  man,  is  made  by  the  author  of  evil.'' 

*flxcerp>a  Hixt.  18G.  The  extract  of  this  letter  is,  for  the  sake  of  brevity, 
imited  to  tlie  pannage  in  which  tlie  queen  is  a  personal  agent  The  origiMU  k 
Q  French ;  it  is  of  course  tranilatad  into  perspicuous  wtliography. 


OTHw  ux  uie  Mja  lener,  to  bnog  Um  adf 
0Ooq1  ttsion.  * ' 

King  Edward  broke  the  thread  a 
baU  and  permitted  the  jooste ;'  then 
eombttt,  and  the  enaoMtted  jewd  o( 
Roche,  by  a  hanld,  reqoeeiing  him  ^ 
aad  kaifhtlj  hand,  in  token  of  hii 
eomil  did  to,  and  expected  to  be  on 
Bold,  to  do  honour  to  the  oorooatio 

The  coronation  of  Eliabeth  wa 
WhitMnday,  the  S6th  of  May.    C 
London  firoin  Eltham  pahice,  the  ma; 
at  tlie  foot  of  Shooter's  Hill,  and  eoi 
Ihe  Tower.    That  morning  Edward 
knighted  thirty-two  persona,  amooj 
ciiiaena,  and  behaTed  with  the  utmoi 
iiTonr  of  the  citiiens  for  his  qoeen. 
to  her  jpalace  of  Westminster,  in  a 
aedan  chair,  supported  by  stately  pac 
all  rode,  on  this  occasion,  in  solemn 
She  was  crowned  next  day,  with  gres 
the  young  duke  of  Clarence  officiatin 
nation,  the  queen  sat  in  state  at  a  g 
where  the  bishop  of  Rochester,  who 
took  his  place  at  the  king's  right  hi 
(now  the  king's  brother-in-law,  by  i 
rine  Woodrille)  sat  at  his  left.     Cha 
of  sending  to  England  a  soyereign  pri 
the  Londoners  that  Edward  had  takei 


■  LIIABXTH    WOOOVILLX.  817 

a  hundred  knights  with  their  eennnts.    These  Flemish  chevalierb 

stituted  an  armed  band  of  mercenaries,  ready  to  aid  in  enforcing  obe* 

ice,  if  any  opposition  had  occurred  at  the  recognition  of  Elizabeth  as 

ien-consort.    The  king  regularly  paid  them  for  their  attendance,  for 

presented  the  count  de  St.  Pol  with  three  hundred  nobles,  and  each 

lis  chevaliers  with  fiAy.* 

Elizabeth's  marriage  with  Edward  IV.  drew  upon  them  the  enmity  of 

less  a  person  than  the  celebrated  Isabel  of  Castille,  queen  of  Spain. 

he  Harleian  MSS.  is  a  letter  from  the  Spanish  ambassador,  Granfidius 

Sasiola,  who  uses  these  remarkable  words  :*  ^  The  queen  of  Castille 

\  turned  in  her  heart  from  England  in  time  past  for  the  unkindness 

took  of  the  king  of  England  (Edward  IV.,  whom  God  pardon),  for 

refusing  her  and  taking  to  wife  a  widow-woman  of  England,  for 

ich  cause  there  was  mortal  war  between  him  and  the  earl  of  War^ 

k,  even  to  his  death." 

*he  benedictions  which  Margaret  of  Anjou  had  bestowed  upon  Ca|n- 

Ige  were  continued  by  her  successor;  for  early  in  1465  Elizabeth 

ropriated  a  part  of  her  income  to  the  completion  of  the  good  work 

ler  former  mistress,  and  Queen's  College  owes  its  existence  to  these 

il  ladies— 

**  Anjou*8  heroine  and  the  paler  Rose, 
The  rival  of  her  crown  and  of  her  woes.** 

*he  enmity  between  Elizabeth  and  Warwick  had  not  at  this  time 
»unted  to  any  thing  serious,  since  he  stood  as  godfather  to  her  eldest 
^hter,  born  at  Westminster  Palace,  1466.  The  baptism  of  this 
cess  for  a  while  conciliated  her  two  grandmothers.  Cicely  duchese 
fork,  and  Jaquetta  duchess  of  Bedford,  who  were  likewise  her  spon- 
I.  The  christening  was  performed  with  royal  pomp,  and  the  i>abe 
ived  her  mother's  name  of  Elizabeth, — a  proof  that  Edward  was 
e  inclined  to  pay  a  compliment  to  his  wife  than  to  Ilia  haughty 
her. 

ome  months  af\er  the  queen  had  brought  an  heiress  to  the  throne, 
ventured  on  another  affront  to  the  all-powerful  minister,  general, 
relative  of  her  royal  lord.  Warwick  had  set  his  mind  on  marrying 
le,  tlie  heiress  of  the  duke  of  Exeter,  to  his  nephew,  George  Ne- 
».  Meantime  the  queen  slily  bought  the  consent  of  the  rapacious 
liess  of  Exeter,*  for  four  thousand  marks,  and  married  the  young 

lundjr  did  not  take  place  till  two  years  aHerwards,  when  Anthony  Woodrille 
ed  great  honour  by  a  decided  personal  advantage  over  the  Burgundian.   The 
)  of  Clarence,  afterwards  the  mortal  foe  of  Anthony,  carried  his  basnet. 
lomitTeiet. 

>ated  August  8fh,  1483.  When  this  was  written,  the  Spanish  ambassador 
at  the  court  of  Richard  III.  See  Second  Series  of  Sir  Henry  Ellis*  Letters. 
bis  letter  it  is  evident  Warwick  was  negotiating  for  the  hand  of  Isabel  of 
ille,  who,  it  appears  (fVom  her  history  by  Bemaldes  Andr^  a  Spanish  MS. 
te  library  of  sir  Thomas  Phillipps,  hart  of  Middle  Hill),  was  fburteen  in 
,  not  a  little  girl  of  six  jrears,  as  Hall  represents  her.  A  Spanish  maideii 
lat  age  would  feel  all  the  indignation  her  countryman  describes, 
niliam  of  Worcester,  p.  501.  Aime  of  York,  eldest  ohikl  of  Riofaard  doka 
ork  and  Cicely  NeviUe,  was  (according  to  the  Friar's  GenealaQf )  waddad 


.  ..^«,^  »i«c  uiiesi  young  lai 
more  agginvatini^,  since  Warwic 
marriage  with  various  princesses, 
old  .enough,  EUlward  would  have 
ever  disappointed  by  the  exaltatio 
his  daughter  Isabel  in  marriage  U 
was  soon  aAer  in  a  state  of  insurre 
directed  against  the  queen^s  frmil^ 
■cond  for  a  time* 

The  first  outbreak  of  the  muttei 
shire,  under  a  freebooter  called  R 
to  have  been  a  noble,  outlawed  for 
Burgent  defeated  Edward  IV.'s  force 
lives  from  the  battle,  into  the  foresi 

3ueen^B  father,  who  was  then  high 
ley  were,  in  the  names,  if  not  by 
harried  to  Northampton,  and  behea> 
queen^s  mother  a  still  more  fearful 
terrific  accusations  of  witchcraft  wa 
occasionally  aimed  at  ladies  of  roya 
mark  for  other  calumny.     This  wi 
which  had  taken  place  in  the  royal 

The  queen  was  preparing  to  acc< 
into  Norfolk,  when  this  astounding 
der  of  her  father  and  brother  appea 

in  early  youth  to  Henry  Holland,  duke  < 
Che  line  of  Lancaiter,  by  Elisabeth,  siati 
was  an  atrocious  character ;  she  divoro< 
caused  the  death  of  her  seoon/i     n--  "^ 
•I. —        •    - 


ELIXABBTH    WOODVILLS.  SI9 

iif  harvest,  1469.    The  blow  mutt  have  fallen  with  great  sererity  ou 
Elizabeth,  whose  auctions  were  knit  so  strongly  to  her  own  fomily. 

When  the  king  advanced  to  the  north,  in  order  to  inquire  into  these 
outrages,  he  was  detained,  in  some  kind  of  restraint,  by  Warwick  and 
his  brother  Montague,  at  Warwick  Castle,  where  an  experiment  was 
tried  to  shake  his  affections  to  EUizabeth,  by  the  insinuation  that  her 
whole  influence  over  him  proceeded  from  her  mother's  skill  in  witch- 
craft. For  this  purpose,  Thomas  Wake,  a  partisan  of  the  Neville  fac- 
tion, brought  to  Warwick  Castle  part  of  the  stock  in  trade  of  a  soree- 
ress,  which  he  declared  was  captured  at  GrafVon.'  Edward  was  far  from 
being  proof  against  such  follies,  yet  this  accusation  seems  to  have  had 
DO  effect  on  his  mind.  Afler  being  carried  to  Middleham  Castle  (War- 
wick's stronghold  in  the  north),  where  he  was  detained  some  time,  he 
entered  into  negotiations  for  the  marriage  of  his  infant  heiress,  Elizabeth 
of  York,  witli  young  €reorge  Neville.  This  scheme  greatly  pleased  the 
uncle  and  godfather  of  the  boy,  the  archbishop  of  York,  who  persuaded 
his  brotliers  to  let  Edward  stay  with  him  at  his  seat  called  the  More,  in 
Hertfoidshire.  Warwick  sent  up  Edward,  very  severely  guarded,  from 
Middleham  Castle. 

From  the  More,  Edward  escaped  speedily  to  Windsor,'  and  was  soon 
once  more  in  his  metropolis,  which  was  perfectly  devoted  to  him,  and 
where,  it  appears,  his  queen  had  remained  in  security  during  these 
alarming  events.  Again  England  was  his  own :  for  Warwick  and  Cla- 
rence, in  alarm  at  his  escape  from  the  More,  betook  themselves  to  •their 
fleet  and  fled.  But  the  queen's  gallant  brother,  Anthony  Woodville, 
who  had  the  command  of  the  Yorkist  navy,  intercepted  and  captured 
all  the  rebel  ships,'  excepting  that  in  which  Warwick  and  Clarence,  with 
their  families,  escaped  with  difficulty  to  France. 

The  queen  was  placed  by  the  king  in  safety  in  the  Tower,^  before  he 
marched  to  give  battle  to  the  insurgents.  Her  ^situation  gave  hopes  of 
an  addition  to  the  royal  family ;  she  was  the  mother  of  three  girls,  but 
had  not  borne  heirsHmale  to  the  house  of  York. 


'  This  information  is  KRthere<l  from  the  memorial  of  tlie  queen's  motlicr,  who, 
after  all  these  distractions  were  compose*!,  thought  it  pnidcnt  to  defend  herself 
in  the  following  terms: — "Jaquetta  duchess  of  Bedford  to  her  sovereign  lord 
the  king  thus  humbly  complaineth — That  when  she  at  all  time  hath,  and  yet 
doth,  truly  believe  on  God  acc*ording  to  the  faith  of  holy  church,  as  a  true  Chris* 
tian  woman  ought  to  do,  yet  Thomas  Wake,  esq.  hath  caused  her  to  be  brought 
into  a  common  noise  and  disclaunder  (slander)  of  witcboraA.  At  your  last 
being  at  Warwick,  Mvereign  lord  (he  was  tlien  in  the  custody  of  the  three 
Nevilles,  Warwick,  Montague,  and  tbe  archbishop  of  York),  Wake  brought  to 
Warwick  Castle,  and  exhibited  to  divers  lords  there  present,  an  image  of  lead, 
made  like  to  a  man-at-arms,  containing  tlie  length  of  a  man's  finger,  and  broken 
in  the  middle,  and  made  fast  with  a  wire,  saying  it  was  made  by  your  said  ora- 
tress  to  use  with  sorcery  and  witchcraft,  when  she  never  saw  it  before,  God 
knoweth.'— -Par/.  HolU,  vol.  vi.  p.  232.     • 

■  Fragment  Chronicle.  At  this  time  England  presented  the  strange  spectacla 
of  two  kings  both  in  captivity ;  Henry  VI.  was  still  prisoner  to  tbe  York  partjr, 
which  seems,  till  a  late  period  of  this  revolution,  to  liave  kept  possession  of  the 
metropolis.  *  Warkworth  Chronicle,  edited  by  J.  O.  Halliwcll,  esti^  P-  ^ 

'  Fraguieut  Chronic ie. 


.»..%«;  viiMfDU  jjondoDfin  a  ini 

beraelf  to  her  barge,  and  fled  ap  the  1 
own  palace,  but  to  a  strong,  gloomy  b< 
oecupied  a  space  at  the  end  of  St.  A( 
registered  beraeU^  her  mother,  her  thre 
wd  Cicely,  with  the  &ithfal  lady  Sei 
vonen;  and  in  this  dismal  place  sh 
hour  in  which  the  fourth  child  of  Edi 

On  the  1st  of  Norember,  1470,  the 
bonif  during  this  dark  eclipse  of  the  fc 
was  in  want  of  erery  thing ;  but  Tho 
■ter,  sent  various  conTenienees  horn  tb 
a  well-disposed  midwife,  resident  in  t 
the  distressed  queen  in  the  hour  of  mat 
the  little  prince*    Nor  did  Elizabeth,  in 
for  master  Serigo,  her  physician,  attendi 
fiuthful  butcher,  John  Gould,  prevented 
being  starved  into  surrender,  by  supplyi 
two  muttons  every  week.^ 

The  little  prince  was  baptized,  soon  a 
no  more  ceremony  than  if  he  had  ha 
Millings  the  abbot  of  Westminster,  hofi 
for  the  little  prisoner,  and  the  duchess  o 
his  godmottiers.  The  sub-prior  perfom 
him  the  name  of  his  exiled  sire. 

Early  in  March  the  queen  was  cheen 

•The  Sprott  F»— - — 


■  LIlASaTH    WOODTILLS. 

har  royal  lord,  had  landed  at  Rarenapar,  and  soon  after  that  his  broCher^ 
Clarence,  forsook  Warwick.  From  that  moment  the  rerolution  of  hia 
restoration  waa  as  rapid  as  that  of  his  depomtion. 

When  Edward  drew  near  the  capital,  ^  he  aent,  on  the  9th  of  April, 
1470,  very  comfortable  roessaj^  to  his  qoeen,  and  to  his  true  lords, 
aenrants,  and  lovers,  who  advised  and  practised  secretly  how  he  might 
be  received  and  welcomed  m  his  city  of  London.'^'  The  result  was, 
thai  the  metropolis  opened  its  gates  for  Edward  IV.,  and  the  Tower, 
with  the  unresisting  prisoner,  king  Henry,  was  surrendered  to  him. 
Edward  harried  to  the  Canctoary,  ^  and  comforted  the  queen,  tliat  had 
a  long  time  abided  there,  the  security  of  her  person  resting  solely  on  the 
gremt  franchises  of  that  holy  place ;  sojourning  in  deep  trouble,  sorrow, 
and  heaviness,  which  she  sustained  with  all  manner  of  patience  belong- 
iw  to  any  creature,  and  as  constantly  as  ever  was  aeen  by  any  person 
en  such  high  estate  to  endure,  in  the  which  season,  nathelcss,  she  had 
brought  into  this  world,  to  the  king's  greatest  joy,  a  fair  son,  a  prince, 
wherewith  she  presented  her  husband  at  his  coming,  to  his  hearths 
ainffular  comfort  and  glaihiess,  and  to  all  them  that  him  truly  loved.''* 

The  very  morning  of  this  joyful  meeting,  Elizabeth,  accompanied  by 
her  roy^l  lord,  leA  the  Sanctuary.  Never  before  had  Westminister  Sanc- 
tuary received  a  royal  guest,  and  little  was  it  ever  deemed  a  prince  of 
Wales  would  first  see  light  within  walls  that  had  hitherto  only  sheltered 
homicides,  robbers,  and  bankrupts.  The  ruthleas  wars  of  the  Rosea, 
indeed,  made  the  royal  and  the  noble  acquainted  with  strange  house- 
mates ;  but  never  did  the  power  of  sanctuary  appear  so  great  a  blessing 
to  human  nature,  as  when  the  innocent  relatives  of  the  contending  par- 
ties fled  to  the  alutr  for  shelter.  Like  all  benefits,  sanctuary  was  abused, 
but,  assuredly  it  sheltered  many  a  htuuan  life  in  these  destructive  and 
hideous  contests. 

The  same  day  that  Edward  IV.  took  Elizabeth  out  of  Sanctuary,  lio 
carried  her  to  the  city,  where  he  lodged  her  and  her  children  in  hia 
mother's  palace.  Castle  Baynard,  a  Bastille4)uilt  fortifieatioii,  which  had 
been  held  in  his  father's  time,  when  the  Tower  of  London  was  unten- 
able Here  Edward  and  his  queen  heard  divine  service  that  night,  and 
kept  Good  Friday  solenmly  next  day.  On  Easter  Sunday,  Edward 
gained  the  battle  of  Bamet,  and  the  deaths  of  Warwick  and'  Montague 
insured  the  ultimate  success  of  the  house  of  York.  Elizabeth  remained 
at  the  Tower  while  her  husband  gained  the  battle  of  Tewksbury.  The 
news  of  his  success  had  scarcely  reached  her,  before  the  Tower  waa 
threatened  with  storm  by  Falconbndge,  a  relative  of  the  earl  of  Warwick, 
and  ^  therein,"  says  Fleetwood,  **  was  the  queen,  my  loni  prince,  and 
the  ladiin  the  king's  daughters,  all  likely  to  stand  in  the  greatest  jeopardy 
that  ever  was,"  from  the  formidable  attack  of  this  last  partisan  of  Lan- 
caster. But  the  queen's  valiant  brother,  Anthony  Woodville,  was  there, 
and  the  quaen,  relying  on  his  gallant  aid,  stood  the  danger  thia  time 

'  Fleetwood's  Cbrooicle  ^edited  hj  J.  Bmce.  esq.)  has  heeiu  in  thisi  narrativai. 
eoUnted  hy  the  valuable  Warkworth  Chronicle,  edited  by  J.  O.  Halliwell|  •*ffq. 
both  published  hj  the  Camden  Society. 

*  Fleetwood's  Chionicle,  edited  by  J.  Braoe,  esq.,  p.  17. 


i 

4 


) 


.  _  ......  •••«  iftuuiiiiiaote  spur 

oppoeita  party.  Wonder  and  afl 
and,  during  the  winter  of  1470-1, 
Sanctuary  were  the  &Tounte  goasi] 
IV.  bestowed  princely  rewar&  on 
^  hia  Elixabeth,''  as  he  caUs  her,  ii 


I  ELIZABETH 

QUEEN  OF 


CHAP1 

Elizsbeth*8  court  at  Windior — Deacribed 
— Banquet  in  her  apartments  —  Her 
Wettminfter — Queen's  yisit  to  Oxford- 
Clarence— Queen's  robes  of  the  Gart 
widowlKXxl — Her  troubles— Oppose<l 
to  the  queen — She  sends  for  the  3roun| 
and  son's  arrest — Takes  sanctuary—^ 
the  young  duke  of  York — Her  son,  F 
declared  illegal —-Usurpation  of  Ricl 
Richard  of  York — News  of  their  death 


BLItABBTH    WOODVILLE.  32)  f 

pencM)  was  Louis  nf  Brunei),  lord  of  Grauthiise,  envernor  of  Holland,' 
who  had  bospjiably  received  Edn-ard,  when  he  fled,  in  [he  preceiling 
year,  from  EDglsnd,  and  landed  with  a  few  friends  ni  Sluys,  "  the  most 
Hisires»ed  company  of  creaiurex,"  as  Comines  affirms,  » that  ever  wrb 
seen  ;"  for  Eklwurd  had  pawned  his  miliiary  cloak,  lined  with  mania  fur, 
to  pay  ihe  luasier  of  his  ship,  and  was  put  on  shore  in  his  waiBicrMl. 
The  lord  of  Grauthusc  rrceived  him,  and  fed  and  clothed  bim.  Thia 
Ftejning  had  previously  performed  a  mighty  service  for  Edward,  when, 
as  amWaaUor  from  Philip  of  Burgundy,  he  had  visiieil  Soilond,  and 
broken  ilie  contract  between  the  daughter  of  itie  Scota'  queen-regent, 
and  the  son  of  Margaret  of  Anjou.' 

Finally,  Grauthuse  lent  Edward  IV.  money  and  ships,  without  which 
)>«  would  never  have  been  restored  to  his  country  and  queen.  Aflet 
his  restoration,  Edward  invited  hia  benefactor  to  England,  in  order  to 
l«slify  his  gratitude,  and  introduce  him  to  his  queen.  A  journal,  writ- 
ten either  by  thia  nobleman  or  his  secretary,*  has  been  lately  brought  to 
light,  containing  the  following  curious  passages  : — "  When  ihe  lord  of 
Grauthuse  carae  to  Windsor,  my  lord  Hastings  received  him,  and  led 
him  to  the  far  side  of  the  quadrant  (the  quadrangle  of  Windsor  Castle), 
t>j  three  chambera,  where  the  king  was  then  with  the  queen.  These 
aparlmenls  were  very  richly  hung  with  cloth  of  gold  arras ;  and  when 
he  had  spoken  with  the  king,  who  presented  him  to  the  queen's  £rac«, 
ihey  then  ordered  the  lord  chamberlain  Hastings  to  conduct  him  to  his 
chamber,  where  supper  was  ready  for  him." 

After  his  refreshment,  the  king  had  him  brought  immediately  to  the 
queen's  own  wiihdra wing-room,  where  she  and  her  ladies  were  playing 
at  the  marteaui ;'  and  some  of  her  ladies  were  playing  at  closheys  uf 
ivoiy,'  and  some  at  divere  other  games,  the  which  sight  was  full  pleasant. 
Also  king  Edward  danced  with  my  lady  Dizabelh,  his  eldest  (laughter. 
•^  In  the  morning,  when  matins  were  done,  the  king  heard  in  his  own 
chapel  (that  of  St.  George,  at  Windsor  Castle),  Our  I^dy  ntaas,  which 
was  most  melodiously  sung.  When  the  mass  was  done,  king  Edward 
gave  his  guest  a  cup  of  gold,  garnished  with  pearl.  In  the  mKlsi  of  the 
cup  was  a  great  piece  of  unicorn's  horn,  to  my  estimation  seven  inches 
in  compass ;  and  on  the  cover  of  the  cup  a  great  sapphire.  Then  the 
king  came  into  the  quadrant.  My  lord  prince,  also,  borne  by  his  cham- 
beflain.  called  master  Vaugfian,'  bade   the  lord  Grauthuse  welcome." 

'  He  WD9  Dppuly  in  die  Low  Coumrin  for  hi>  niaaiei,  Chailn  the  Bnld.  Louis 
of  Brunei  MCms  10  have  united  <he  characters  of  nobleman,  mercbanl,  atul  man 
of  Ipltert.  Most  of  ilie  precious  MSS.  of  the  Biblioth^DB  du  Roi  an  of  his 
eolI«ating.     Ue  was  likewise  an  author.  'Monsuelet,  vol.  ii.  p.  313. 

'NaintiTa  oT  Loiii*  oC  Bmge*,  lord  Gnuthuie,  edited  by  lii  F.  Haddeo. 
A'chzologi'i.      1S30. 

•A  game  with  brnXlt,  probably  resembling  matblea.  , 

•  Nine-piru,  made  of  ivory. 

*This  AiiihAiI  cbamberlun,  who  culled  che  prince,  in  bis  iofhncy,  eveiy  whsn 
■Abe  hii  father'*  ttepi,  is  llie  tame  sit  Richard  Vaughan,  wlio  teiiified  bis  fldeliqr 
ID  his  beloved  charge  in  the  btoody  towers  of  Poittrrtaci,  durtog  the  usurpation 
of  Riobaid  of  Gloucester.  He  bclongnl  to  a  very  Derce  and  hatdy  elan  nf 
WtUl.  man-hm-^n. 


■—■ »*^»  v«ovi|^«;  1MUUIC9  sccieuuy  lo 

fide  table,  at  which  sat  a  great  vu 
room.  Also  on  one  side  (^  the  o 
woman.  And  when  they  had  fii| 
eldest  daughter,  danced  with  the  dt 
band." 

It  appears  to  hare  been  the  etiq 
princess,  then  but  six  years  old,  sJ 
uncles. 

^  Then  about  nme  of  the  dock 

ladies  and  gentlewomen,  brought  til 

bcrs  of  pleasaunce.  ail  hanged  with 

the  floors  covered  with  carpets.    T 

of  as  good  down  as  could  be  gotten. 

fine  festoons ;  the  counterpane  doUi 

tester  and  eeifer  also  shining  cloth  < 

net ;  as  for  his  head-suit  and  pHlo 

ordering.    In  the  second  chamber 

white.     Also  in  the  chamber  was  m 

hanged  above  like  a  tent,  knit  like  a 

the  third  cliarober  was  ordained  a  ba 

▼ered  with  tento  of  white  cloth.'* 

Could  the  present  age  ofier  a  mor 
in  a  suite  of  sleeping-rooms,  than  in 
husband's  friend  ? 

**  And  when  the  queen,  with  all 
rooms,  the  queen,  with  the  king  and  a 


SLIXABBTH    WOODTILLS. 

,  and  ipocras^  seired  hj  the  order  of  the  queen.  And  in  the 
g  he  took  his  cup*  with  the  king  and  queen,  and  retnrned  to 
inster  again.  And  on  St.  Edward's  day,  18th  of  October,  king 
I  kept  his  royal  state  at  Westminster  Palace.  In  the  forenoon 
e  into  the  parliament  in  his  robes,  on  his  head  a  cap  of  roainte- 
and  sat  in  his  most  royal  majesty,  having  before  him  his  lords 
il  and  temporal.  Then  tlie  speaker  of  the  common  parliament, 
William  AUington,  declared  before  the  king  and  his  nobles  the 
md  desire  of  his  commons,  especially  in  ^  their  commendation  of 
manly  behaviour  and  great  constancy  of  his  queen  when  he  was 
[  sea  \  also  the  great  joy  and  surety  of  his  land  in  the  birth  of  the 

and  the  great  kindness  and  humanity  of  the  lord  Grauthuse,  then 
,  shown  to  the  king  when  in  Holland.' "  Grauthuse  was  theoi 
1  due  ceremony,  created  earl  of  Winchester,— Occleve,  the  poet, 

aloud  his  letters  patent.  Then  the  king  went  into  the  White- 
hither  came  the  queen  crowned ;  also  the  prince*  in  his  robes  of 
)ome  aAer  the  queen,  in  the  arms  of  his  chamberlain,  master 
in.  And  thus  the  queen,  the  king,  with  the  little  prince  carried 
em,  proceeded  into  the  abbey-church,  and  so  up  to  the  shrine  of 
trard,  where  they  ofiered.  Then  he  king  turned  down  into  the 
Bvhere  he  sat  in  his  throne.  The  new  earl  of  Winchester  bare 
>rd  unto  the  time  they  went  to  dinner.  As  a  finale  to  the  enter- 
its,  king  Edward  created  a  king-at-arms,  baptising  him  Guienne. 
r  was  forced  to  proclaim  the  largess  of  the  new  earl  of  Winchester, 

Master  Garter  had  an  impediment  in  his  tonffue," — a  cireum- 
afifording  much  mirth  to  the  king.  ^  A  void*  of  light  refresh* 
mras  then  served  to  the  king,  and  the  lord  of  Gimuthuse  made  his 

queen's  visit  to  Oxford  took  place  soon  after ;  it  ^vas  long  reroem- 
\ieTe ;  she  arrived  from  Woodstock  after  sunset  with  the  king*  her 
,  and  the  duchess  of  Suflblk.  They  entered  Oxford  with  a  great 
of  people  running  before  the  ro3ral  charrettes,  bearing  torchea. 
een's  brother,  Mr.  Lionel  Woodville,  the  new  chancellor,  received 
rangued  the  royal  party,  who  tarried  till  after  dinner  the  next  day. 
Idward  viewed  the  new  buildings  of  Magdalen,  and  made  an  ora- 
praise  of  Oxford,  declaring  he  had  sent  his  nephews,  the  sons  of 
ihess  of  Suffolk,  to  be  educated  there,  as  a  proof  of  his  esteem.' 
queen  presided  over  the  espousals  of  her  second  son,  Richard 
f  York,  with  Anne  Mowbray,  the  iniant  heiress  of  the  duchy  of 
k.  St.  Stephen's  chapel,  where  the  ceremony  was  performed, 
jT,  1477,  was  splendidly  hung  with  arras  of  gold  on  this  occasion, 
ing,  the  young  prince  of  Wales,  the  three  princesses,  Elixabeth, 

on  calls  the  break  fiist  rrfre»bment  tmking  kii  emp^  it  being  generallr  of 
)re  the  introdiiction  of  tea  and  cotfee. 

meal  now  called  tea  was,  at  tliis  era,  termed  **  a  Toid.**  fVom  being  the 
il  of  the  company.     It  was  nerved  on  a  tray,  rince  called  a  voider. 
Memorials  of  Oxford  date  this  toyml  visit  1481,  at  the  coropletioo  of  Mag- 
bnt  the  mention  of  the  duehess  of  Bedford,  the  queen's  mother,  who  disd 
proves  that  Elisabeth's  visit  lo  Oxibrd  took  pistte  before  tlMH  jreat. 

r 


UOO  sou   uiauiiervsMnj   ivpvc  ,   uc   uc 

hit  &ther^8  unprotected  younger  ch 
twelve  yean  old  at  the  battle  of  T 
owed  hia  hiffh  station  wholly  to  1 
The  best  fedings  of  Edward  were 
of  Qareoce,  nor  did  his  return  to  i 
moat  sordid  motives,  raise  him  in 
aesaed,  in  an  exaggerated  degree,  t 
of  Plantagenet  ^  Ue  shall  repent 
was  his  usual  expression  if  any  oi 
kept  his  word.  But  if  the  miadeei 
loved,  were  not  likely  to  be  forgi 
likely  to  be  forgotten  by  the  que< 
Clarence.  Her  beloved  fiither  and 
his  name ;  her  brother  Anthony,  tl: 
lowly  eaoiped  a  similar  (ate,  at  a  t 
and  responsible  agent ;  and  her  m< 
his  party. 

Towards  the  spring  of  1477,  C 
tions,  being  exasperated  because  ( 
obtain  the  hand  of  Mary  of  fiur| 
wealthy  marriage,  his  grief  at  the 
had  almost  unsettled  his  reason, 
i  attendants  to  death,  whom  he  acci 

imputations  of  sorcery  against  the 
Edward.* 

The  queen  was  at  Windsor  w 
brought  him  that  his  brother  Clar< 
for  many  days,  doggedly  silent,  ^ 


■  LIXABBTH    WOODYILLS.  237 

nislied  into  the  council-room,  and  uttered  moet  disrespectful  woids 
aigainst  the  queen  and  his  royal  person,  concerning  the  deaths  of  his 
friends  Burdett  and  Stacy.  The  comments  of  the  queen  did  not  sootlie 
Edward's  mind,  who  hurried  to  Westminster,  and  the  arrest,  arraign- 
ment, and  sentence  of  the  unhappy  Clarence  soon  followed.  He  was 
condemned  to  death,  but  the  king  demurred  on  his  public  execution. 
Clarence  had,  since  the  death  of  his  belored  Isabel,  desperately  given  hinv- 
aelf  over  to  intemperance,  in  order  to  drown  the  pain  of  thought.  In  his 
dismal  prison  a  butt  o[  malmsey  was  introduced,  where  he  could  have 
access  to  it  The  duke  was  found  dead,  with  his  head  hanging  over  the 
butt,  the  night  after  he  had  offered  his  mass-penny  at  the  chapel  within 
the  Tower.  Probably  Clarence  was  the  victim  of  his  own  frailty.  He 
was  beset  with  temptation ;  despair,  loneliness,  a  vexed  conscience,  a  * 
habit  of  drinking,  and  a  flowing  butt  of  his  favourite  nectar  at  his  elbow, 
left  little  trouble,  either  to  assassins  or  executioners^  The  partisans  of 
the  queen  and  the  duke  of  Gloucester  mutually  recriminated  his  death 
on  each  other.  Gloucester  was  certainly  absent  from  the  scene  of 
action,  residing  in  the  north. 

On  the  St.  Geoige's  day  succeeding  this  grotesque  but  horrible  tragedy, 
the  festival  of  the  Charter  was  celebrated  with  more  than  usual  pomp, 
and  the  queen  took  a  decided  part  in  it,  and  wore  the  robes  as  chief 
lady  of  the  oider. 

The  queen  kept  up  a  correspondence  by  letter  with  the  duchess  of 
Burgundy,  with  the  ambitious  hope  of  obtaining  the  hand  of  Mary  of 
Burgundy,  for  her  brother,  lord  Rivers.  When  the  duchess  visited  the 
eourt  of  England  in  August,  1480,  the  queen's  youngest  brother,  sir 
Edward  Woodville,  was  sent  with  a  fleet  to  escort  her.  The  duchess 
aojoumed  at  Cold  Harbour,  the  city  residence  which  lately  belonged 
to  her  deceased  brother  Clarence.  Among  other  gifts,  she  was  pro* 
aented,  at  her  departure,  with  a  magnificent  side  saddle.' 

The  queen's  accomplished  brother,  lord  Rivers,  continued  his  patron- 
age to  the  infant  art  of  printing.     In  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury's 

*  History  has  little  more  than  the  traditions  of  this  mysterious  fact  to  relate. 
The  Bowyer  Tower  is  one  of  the  most  retired  of  that  circle  of  gloomy  fortresses 
which  surround  the  white  Donjon,  emphatically  called  the  Tower  of  London ;  it 
it  declared  by  Mr.  Bayley  (History  of  the  Tower)  to  be  the  scene  of  Clarence's 
death.  It  consists  of  a  strong  prison-room,  with  a  most  suspicious-looking  recess, 
and  vaulted  door  walled  up,  a  store-room  for  bows  and  arrows,  and  a  dungeon. 
As  neither  the  offices  of  cook  nor  butler  could  have  been  performed  there,  the 
malmsey  could  not  have  been  the  remnant  of  some  festivity.  For  the  purpose 
of  Clarence's  destruction,  in  some  way  or  other,  this  butt  of  liquor  must  have 
been  introduced  into  his  lodging ;  the  very  fumes  of  tlie  butt,  with  the  head 
knocked  out,  would  have  destroyed  a  delicate  person.  AAer  his  death  the  story 
went  among  tlie  common  people,  that  being  permitted  to  chooee  how  he  would 
die,  he  requested  to  be  drowned  in  a  butt  of  malmsey.  This  tale  evidently  was 
invented  from  the  position  in  which  the  corpse  was  found. 

*  See  Wardrobe  accounts  of  Edward  IV.,  edited  by  sir  Harris  Nicolas,  p.  13. 
who  has  reasoned  in  a  luminous  historical  manner  on  the  fallacious  inferences 
drawn  by  Walpole  regarding  the  absence  of  Margaret  fhnn  England  liiice  her 
elerenth  year. 


.M...VU*  avrvcf    was    UIO    imillOdll 

ini^,  he  made  hit  AiTourtteB,  Stanl 
with  the  queen  mnd  her  &iiiily ;  m 
monarch  exhorted  them  to  protect  i 
professions  of  penitence. 

If  the  king  left  any  direetiona  for 
ing  his  son's  minority,  they  were  n 
extant,  but  one  made  at  the  time  of 
cepting  the  control  of  his  daughten 
autliority  to  the  queen ;'  though  it  h 
expressions,  all  the  furniture,  jewels 
at  various  palaces,  and  the  possesaii 
tunately  for  her,  appropriated  to  he 
of  Lancaster. 

Eklward  expired  at  Westminster,  I 
death,  his  booy,  with  the  fiice,  arms, 
on  a  board  for  nine  hours,  and  all  tl 
aldermen  of  London,  sent  for  to  re 
really  dead.  Afterwards  he  was  rob< 
pMiIter  was  said  over  the  body,  and 
knights,  in  long  black  gowns  and  ho 
queen's  chamberlain,  lord  Dacre,  otii 
of  DorseU  and  lord  Hastings,  bore  din 
the  earl  of  Lincoln,  son  of  the  duchi 
attended  as  chief  mourner  at  his  unci 
finally  taken  by  water  to  Windsor,  ai 
beautiful  chapel  of  St  George. 


SLIEABBTH    WOODV  ILLJit  S99 

I  made  Nottmgham  a  palace  rojral, 
Wiadtor,  Eltham,  and  many  other  mo; 
Yet  at  the  last  I  went  from  them  all, 
£t  ecet  nunc  in  puhert  donmol 
Whore  is  now  my  conquest  and  royal  array  1 
Where  be  my  coursers  and  my  horses  high? 
Where  is  my  mirth,  my  solace,  and  my  play? 
As  vanity  is  nought,  all  is  wandered  away!" 

TliCn  addressing  his  widowed  queen  by  the  familiar  epithet  which  tra- 
dition says  he  was  accustomed  to  call  her,  Edward  is  supposed  to  say — 

**0h!  Lady  Bessee,  long  for  me  ye  may  call! 
For  I  am  departed  until  the  doomsday ; 
But  love  ye  that  Lord  who  is  sovereign  of  all." 

Elizabeth  was  leA,  in  reality,  &r  more  desolate  and  unprotected  in 
her  second  than  in  her  first  widowhood.  The  young  kin?  was  pursu- 
ing his  studies  at  Ludlow  castle,  and  presiding  over  his  prmcipality  of 
Wales,  under  the  care  of  his  accomplished  uncle.  Rivers,  and  the  guar- 
dianship of  his  faithful  chamberlain,  Vaughan,  the  same  person  who 
carried  him  in  his  arms,  after  the  queen  and  his  royal  father,  on  all  pub- 
lic occasions,  when  the  little  prince  was  a  lovely  babe  of  eighteen 
months  old. 

Elisabeth  sat  at  the  first  council  afler  the  death  of  her  husband,  and 
proposed  that  the  young  king  should  be  escorted  to  London  with  a 
powerful  army.  Fatally  for  himself  and  his  royal  master^s  children, 
jealousy  of  the  Woodvilles  prompted  Hastings  to  contradict  this  prudent 
measure.  He  asked  her  insolently,  ^  Against  whom  the  young  sovereign 
was  to  be  defended  ?  Who  were  his  foes  ?  Not  his  valiant  uncle 
Gloucester?  Not  Stanley,  or  himself?  Was  not  this  proposed  force 
rather  destined  to  confirm  the  power  of  her  kindred,  and  enable  them  to 
violate  the  oaths  of  amity  they  had  so  lately  sworn  by  the  death-bed  of 
tlieir  royal  master  ?^  He  finished  by  vowing,  ^  that  he  would  retire 
(rom  court,  if  the  young  king  was  brought  to  London  surrounded  by 
soldiers." 

Thus  taunted,  the  hapless  Elizabeth  gave  up,  with  tears,  the  precau- 
tionary measures  her  maternal  instinct  had  dictated ;  the  necessity  for 
which,  not  a  soul  in  that  infotuated  council  foreboded  but  herself,  and 
even  she  was  not  aware  of  her  real  enemy.  The  turbulent  and  power- 
ful aristocracy,  at  the  head  of  whom  was  Hastings,  and  who  had  ever 
opposed  her  family,  were  the  persons  she  evidently  dreaded.  The  duke 
of  Gloucester  had  been  very  little  at  court  since  the  restoration,  and 
never  yet  had  entered  into  angry  collision  with  the  Woodvilles.  He 
was  now  absent,  at  his  government  of  the  Scottish  borders.  When  he 
heard  of  the  death  of  the  king,  he  immediately  caused  fxlward  V.  to  be 
proclaimed  at  York,  and  wrote  a  letter  of  condolence'  to  the  queen^  so 
full  of  deference,  kindness,  and  submission,  tlutt  Elizabeth  thought  she 
should  lutve  a  most  complying  friend  in  the  first  prince  of  the  blood. 
The  council  commanded  eail  Rivers  to  bring  up  the  young  king,  unat- 

'  Carte.     Hall. 
TOL.UI  — 30 


y,  ..«..  vovvtiu  von  10  satety^  u 

M  Therefore,^  My*  Hal V  ^  she  too 
and  her  daughtara,  and  went  out  o 
Sanctuary,  and  there  lodged  in  th( 
children  and  company,  were  registi 
the  queen^a  eldest  son,  directly  h( 
weakly  forsook  his  important  trust, 
into  Sanctuary  to  his  mother.    ^  B 
then  the  archbishop  of  Rotherham,'  y 
minster  Abbey,  having  received  th< 
proceedings,  called  up  his  serranU 
and  went  to  the  queen,  about  whoo 
haste,  and  business,  with  conreyi 
Sanctuary.    Every  man  was  busy  U 
stuft,  chests,  and  &rdel8  (packages) 
walked  off,  with  more  than  they  wc 
queen  sat  alone  below  on  the  rushei 
chronicler  adds  to  this  picturesque  < 
so  renowned  for  its  beauty,  escaped  1 
over  her  person,  swept  on  the  grot] 
rigid  etiquette  of  royal  widows'  cos 
that  such  profusion  of  glittering  tre« 
veil,  but  that  even  the  queen's  foreh( 
frontlet,  and  her  chin,  to  the  upper 
barb.    The  fiiithful  archbishop  acqn 
cheering  message,  ^  sent  him  by  lore 
**  'Ah,  woe  worth  him !'  replied  ! 


BLIXABBTH    WOODVILLB.  331 

iKwto  full  of  the  duke  of  Gloucester's  servants,  watching  thtft  no  one 
might  go  to  the  queen's  asylum.'''  Sir  Thomas  More  (and  he  ought  to 
be  good  authority  for  any  thing  relating  to  chancellor's  seals)  affirms, 
that  the  archbishop,  alarmed  at  the  step  he  had  taken,  went  afterwards 
to  Elizabeth,  then  in  Sanctuary,  and  persuaded  her  to  return  the  great 
teal ;  but  Gloucester  never  forgave  him  for  its  original  surrender. 

The  apartments  of  the  abbot  of  Westminster  are  nearly  in  the  same 
state,  at  the  present  hour,  as  when  they  received  Elizabeth  and  her  train 
of  young  princesses.  The  noble  stone  hall,  now  used  as  a  dining-room 
for  the  students  of  Westminster  School,  was,  doubtless,  the  place  where 
Elizabeth  seated  herself  in  her  despair,  ^  alow  on  the  rushes,  all  desolate 
and  dismayed."'  Still  may  be  seen  the  circular  hearth  in  the  midst  of 
the  hall,  and  the  remains  of  a  kmvre  in  the  roof,  at  which  such  portions 
of  smoke,  as  chose  to  leave  the  room,  departed.  But  the  merry  month 
of  May  was  entered  when  Elizabeth  took  refuge  there,  and  round  about 
the  hearth  were  arranged  branches  and  flowers,  while  the  stone  floor 
was  strewn  with  green  rushes.  At  the  end  of  the  hall  is  oak  panelling, 
latticed  at  top,  with  doors,  leading  by  winding  stone  stairs,  to  the  most 
curious  nest  of  little  rooms  that  the  eye  of  antiquary  ever  looked  upon. 
These  were,  and  still  are,  the  private  apartments  of  the  dignitaries  of  the 
abbey,  where  all  offices  of  buttery,  kitchen,  and  laundry,  are  performed, 
under  many  a  quaint  Gothic  arch,  in  some  places  (even  at  present)  rich 
with  antique  corbel  and  foliage.  This  range,  so  interesting  as  a  speci- 
men of  the  domestic  usages  of  the  middle  ages,  terminates  in  the  abbot's 
own  sanctum  or  sitting-room,  which  still  looks  down  on  his  lovely  quiet 
flower-garden.  Nor  must  the  passage  be  forgotten,  leading  from  this 
room  to  the  corridor,  furnished  with  lattices,  now  remaining,  where  the 
abbot  might,  unseen,  be  witness  of  the  conduct  of  his  monks  in  the 
great  hall  below.  Communicating  with  these  are  the  state  apartments 
of  the  royal  abbey,  larger  in  dimensions,  and  more  costly  in  ornament, 
richly  dight  with  paintni  glass  and  fluted  oak  panelling.  Among  these 
may  be  especially  noted,  one  called  the  organ- room ;  likewise  the  ante- 
chamber  to  the  great  Jerusalem  Chamber,  which  last  was  the  abbot's 
state  reception-room,  and  retains  to  this  day,  with  its  Gothic  window 
of  painted  glass,  of  exquisite  workmanship,  its  curious  tapestry,  and 
fine  original  oil  portrait  of  Richard  11.* 

Such  are  the  principal  features  of  the  dwelling,  whose  monastic  seclu- 
sion was  once  broken  by  the  mournful  plaints  of  tlie  widowed  queeo^ 

-    — 

*  Hall,  p.  350. 

*  Hall's  expression  is,  that  the  queen  fled  to  the  abboi'i  place,  or  palace,  within 
Westminster  Abbey;  an  assertion  which  proves  that  Elizabeth  was  not  an  in- 
mate of  the  Sanctuary  building.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  whole  of  the 
Abbey  garden,  cemetery,  dwellings,  and  precincts,  were  sanctuary  ground,  as 
well  as  the  building  called  tlie  S^anctuary. 

*The  fire-place,  before  which  Henry  IV.  expired,  had  been  enriched  by  Henry 
VII.  with  elabonite  wood  entablatures,  bearing  his  armorial  devices;  an  addition 
wliich  is  the  most  modern  part  of  this  exquisite  remnant  of  domestic  antiquity 
The  authors  of  this  work  are  indebted  fitr  the  examination  of  tfie  secluded  poi 
linns  of  Westminster  Abbey  to  the  courteous  permission  of  the  rev.  Henry  Mil 


years  old.  Katharine,  bom  at  Elihi 
tween  three  and  four  years  old;  sh 
Devonshire.  Bridget,  bom  at  Elthai 
her  third  year ;  she  was  devoted  to  tli 
afterwards  professed  a  nun  at  Dartfon 

The  qoeen  had,  in  council,  appoin 
nation ;  bis  ^se  uncle,  however,  did 
day.    Edward  V.  then  entered  the  ci 
duke  of  Gloucestei's  retinue,  who  w( 
death  of  the  late  monarch.     At  the  h< 
himself,  habited  in  black,  with  his  c 
low,  and  pointing  out  his  nephew  (wh 
velvet)  to  the  homage  of  the  citizens 
at  the  bishop  of  Ely's  palace ; '  but  as 
an  the  high  clergy)  was  fitithful  to  thi 
king  was  soon  transferred  to  the  rega 
pretence  of  awaiting  his  coronation, 
get  possession  of  prince  Richard,  the 
long  and  stormy  debate,  between  the  i 
pond  peenh  at  a  council  held  in  the  St 
retreat),  it  was  decided  ^  that  there  mi| 
but  as  chUdren  could  commit  no  crime 
the  privileges  of  sanctuary  could  not  es 
of  Gloucester,  who  was  now  recognise< 
himself  of  his  nephew  by  force,  if  he 
Canterbury  was  unwilling  that  force  si 
a  deputation  of  the  temporal  peers,  to 
her  son.     When  they  arrived  at  the  Jei 


BI.ISABBTH    WOODYILLB.  233 

•ickneM  ?  as  though  priDces,  so  young  as  they  be,  could  not  play  with- 
out their  peers— or  children  could  not  play  without  their  kindred,  with 
whom  (for  the  most  part)  they  agree  worse  than  with  strangers  P' 

At  last  she  said,  ^  My  lord,  and  all  my  lords  now  present,  1  will  not 
be  so  suspicious  as  to  mistrust  your  truths.'^  Then,  taking  young 
Richard  by  the  hand,  she  continued,  ^^  Lo,  here  is  this  gentleman,  whom 
I  doubt  not  would  be  safely  kept  by  me,  if  1  were  permitted ;  and  well 
do  I  know  there  be  some  such  deadly  enemies  to  my  blood,  that,  if  they 
wist  where  any  lay  in  their  own  bodies,  they  would  let  it  out  if  they 
could.  The  desire  of  a  kingdom  knoweth  no  kindred ;  brothers  have 
been  brothers'  bane,  and  may  the  nephews  be  sure  of  the  uncle  ?  Each 
of  these  children  are  safe  while  they  be  asunder.  Notwithstanding,  1 
here  deliver  him,  and  his  brother's  life  with  him,  into  your  hands,  and 
of  you  I  shall  require  them  before  God  and  man.  Faithful  be  ye  I  wot 
well,  and  power  ye  have,  if  ye  list,  to  keep  them  safe ;  but  if  ye  think 
1  fear  too  much,  yet  beware  ye  fear  not  too  little !''  And  therewithal, 
continued  slie,  to  the  child,  ^^  Farewell,  mine  own  sweet  son !  God  send 
you  good  keeping !  Let  me  kiss  you  once  ere  you  go,  for  God  knoweth 
when  we  shall  kiss  together  again !" 

And  therewith  she  kissed  and  blessed  him,  and  turned  her  back  and 
wept,  leaving  the  poor  innocent  child  weeping  as  fast  as  herself. ' 

When  the  archbishop  and  the  deputation  of  lords  had  received  the 
young  duke,  tiiey  brought  him  into  the  Star-chamber,  where  the  lord 

Crotector  took  him  in  his  arms,  with  these  words,  ^  Now,  welcome,  my 
>rd,  with  all  my  very  heart!"  He  then  brought  him  to  the  bishop's 
palace  at  St.  Paul's,  and  from  thence  honourably  through  the  city  to  the 
young  king  at  the  Tower,  out  of  which  they  were  never  seen  abroad. 

Meantime,  preparations  went  on,  night  and  day,  in  the  abbey  and  the 
vicinity,  for  the  coronation  of  Edward  V.  Even  the  viands  for  the  ban- 
quet were  bought,  which  Hall  declares  were  aAerwards  spoilt  and  thrown 
away.'  On  the  13th  of  June,  Richard  of  Gloucester  called  a  councU  at 
the  Tower,  ostensibly  to  fix  the  precise  time  of  tlie  coronation,  but  in 
reality  to  ascertain  which  of  the  lords  were  in  earnest  to  have  young 
Edward  for  tlieir  king.  The  first  attack  on  Elizabeth  took  place  at  this 
council  Uible,  when  Gloucester,  after  finding  Hastings  incorruptible  in 
his  fealty  to  the  heirs  of  Edward  IV.,  broke  out  uito  a  strain  of  invective 
against  him,  as  leagued  with  that  ^  witch  dame  Gray,  called  his  brother's 
wife,  who,  in  conjunction  with  Jane  Shore,  liad  by  their  sorceries 
withered  his  arm."    He  showed  his  arm,  which  all  present  well  knew 


*  Sir  Thomas  More ;  aud  Hall,  p.  358.  These  historians,  with  greiit  appear* 
ance  of  truth,  place  Elizabeth's  surrender  of  the  duke  of  York  some  days  before 
the  executions  of  her  son  Richard  Gray  and  her  brother,  at  PontefracL 

•Karl.  MSS.  4:Ki,  KtSl,  is  a  note  of  14/.  Us.  td.  paid  to  John  Belle,  being  a 
<»mpo.«ition  for  his  charges  of  32/.  for  the  supply  of  wild  fowl  bought  for  the  in- 
tended coronation  of  ^  Edward,  tlie  bastard  son  of  king  Edward  IV.*'  He  wa* 
thus  designated  in  tlie  charge  the  court  tailor  made  for  his  dress  prepared  foi 
this  ceremony.  The  partisans  of  Richard  HI.  have  made  some  odd  mistakes,  as 
if  he  wore  the  dress  at  his  uncle's  coronation ;  but  he  no  more  wore  the  dresi 
than  he  ate  this  wild  fowl 
20  • 


.»^^M*«;i  ,  lie  repeaiea  m 

upon  her  name,  mnd  reaped  no  1 
malice. 

Soon  afterwards^  the  fiiction  of 
petition,  to  prevent  the  crown  from 
marriage  between  king  Edward  ai 
assent  of  the  lonis  of  the  land,  ant 
and  her  mother  Jaquetta  (as  the  pul 
and  secretly,  in  a  chamber,  without 
the  laudable  custom  of  the  churcl 
being  married  and  tn>th-plight  a  lor 
daughter  to  the  old  earl  of  Shre^ 
Richard  as  king,  in  the  hall  of  Cro 
lowed  the  presentation  of  this  peti 
the  son  of  Elizabeth  was  considered 
ard  III.  took  place  ten  days  afler. 

Among  the  gloomy  range  of  fortn 
tion  has  pointni  out  the  Portcullis  1 
the  young  princes.  The  royal  chile 
building  when  their  uncle  came  to  t 
roents  in  the  Tower,  on  the  4th  of  J 

'AH  Richard's  pri\'mte  councils  were  he 
at  Baynards  Castle,  where  she  was  then 
niOHt  of  his  proceedings  (see  Walpole't  I. 
his  letters,  there  is  little  duubt  but  what 
attack  was  tliat  of  an  officious  partisan,  e 
information  of  what  was  required  fVon 
iHend.  the  lord-mamr — * 


BLIXABBTH    WOODTILLB.  835 

princes  were  both  shut  up,  and  all  their  people  removed^  but  only  one, 
called  Black  Will,  or  Will  Slaughter,  who  was  set  to  senre  them,  and 
four  keepers  to  guard  them.  The  young  king  was  heard  to  say,  sigh- 
ingly, ^  I  would  mine  uncle  would  let  me  have  my  life,  though  he  taketh 
my  crown.'  After  which  time  the  prince  never  tied  his  points,  nor  any 
thing  attended  to  himself,  but  with  that  young  babe,  his  brother,  lingered 
in  thought  and  heaviness  till  the  traitorous  deed  delivered  them  from 
wretchedness." 

During  Richard^s  progress  to  the  north,  he  roused  sir  James  Tyrrel 
from  his  pallet  bed,  in  his  guard-chamber,  one  night  at  Warwick,  and 
sent  him  to  destroy  the  royal  children.  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury  refused 
to  co-operate,  but  gave  up  the  keys  of  the  Tower  for  one  night  to  the 
usurper's  emissary. 

^  Then  sir  James  Tyrrel  devised  that  the  {nrinces  should  be  murdered 
in  bed,  to  the  execution  whereof  he  appropriated  Miles  Forest,  one  of 
their  keepers,  a  fellow  flesh-bred  in  murder ;  and  to  him  he  joined  one 
John  Dighton,  his  own  horse-keeper,  a  big,  broad,  square  knave.  All 
their  other  attendants  being  removed  from  them,  and  the  harmless  chil- 
dren in  bed,  these  men  came  into  their  chamber,  and  suddenly  lapping 
them  in  the  clothes,  smothered  and  stifled  them  till  thoroughly  dead ; 
then  laying  out  their  bodies  in  the  bed,  they  fetched  sir  James  to  see 
them,  who  caused  the  murderers  to  bury  them  at  the  stair-foot,  deep  in 
the  ground,  under  a  heap  of  stones.  Then  rode  sir  James  in  great  haste 
to  king  Richard,  and  showed  him  the  manner  of  the  murder,  who  gave 
him  great  thanks,  but  allowed  not  their  burial  in  so  vile  a  comer,  but 
would  have  them  buried  in  consecrated  ground.  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury^s 
priest  then  took  them  up,  and  where  he  buried  them  was  never  known,* 
for  he  died  directly  afterwards." 

^But  when,"  continues  sir  Thomas  More,  ^the  news  was  first 
brought  to  the  unfortunate  mother,  yet  being  in  sanctuary,  that  her 

breviatcd,  have  been  followed.  Later  diiooveries  have  shown  that  Tyrrel  was 
vice^ondtable  of  England,  under  Edward  IV.  and  u^d  to  put  illegal  executioiis 
into  effect. 

'  Sir  Thomas  More  has,  in  these  accounts,  followed  the  deposition  of  the  crimi- 
nals who  perpetrated  tlie  dark  deed.  Tyrrel  was  condemned  so  late  as  1499, 
lor  some  minor  Yorkist  plot,  and  gave  this  information  before  his  execution.  His 
•▼idence,  and  that  of  his  satellites,  was  diWy  corroborated  by  the  bones  disco* 
Tered  under  the  stairs  of  the  Record  Office  in  1664,  which  office  was  no  other 
than  tkt  cKapel  within  thi  Towtr;  a  spot  which  embraced  the  two  requisite  ob- 
jects of  concealment  and  consecration.  Tlie  murderous  usurper,  whose  first  pang 
of  conscience  originated  in  the  unchristian  manner  of  bis  victim's  burial,  ortlered 
them  to  be  exhumed  from  under  the  stairs  where  they  were  first  put,  and  laid  m  • 
kalkfwtd  place.  The  priest  of  the  Tower  found  no  spot  equally  sacred  and  secret 
as  the  entrance  to  his  own  chapel,  in  which  service  was  then  performed  every 
day.  The  desecration  of  the  cliapel  and  the  change  of  its  name  to  that  of  the 
Rc^rd  Office,  have  prevented  historians  from  identifying  it  as  a  consecrated 
spot,  perftH:tIy  agreeing  with  Richard's  directions.  Henry  VII.,  who  could  only 
gain  intelligence  of  tlie  firtt  burial,  vainly  searched  for  the  bodies,  as  the  priest 
of  the  Tower,  who  could  have  directed  him,  had  died  soon  aiWr  ho  had  trans* 
ferre<l  the  boflien.  ami  the  i^errot  diod  with  him  ;  till  the  alteration  of  the  chapol 
iuto  a  d<*p6:  for  pa|>ers  re venled  it  iu  the  reign  of  Charles  11. 

W 


dared  Uiat  the  imprecatioiu  of  the  a 
The  wretched  queen^s  health  sanl 
inflicted  by  these  murden,  which  ha 
cutioo  of  her  son^  lord  Richard  Gra 
at  PoDtefract    She  waa  visited  in  a 
Lewis,*  who  likewise  attended  Mai 
Todor,  earl  of  Richmond,  then  an  exi 
ing  the  princess  Eliiabeth  with  this  i 
WIS  first  suggested  to  the  desolate  • 
embraced  the  proposition,  and  the  go 
of  daily  visits,  the  medium  of  negotia 
queen  finally  agreed  to  recognise  He 
be  were  able  to  dispossess  the  usui 
daughter. 

Buckingham,  having  been  disgusted 
rose  in  arms.  The  queen's  son.  Dor 
loary  by  the  agency  of  his  friend  L«o 
taised  an  insurrection  in  Yorkshire,  w. 
Edward  Woodville;  but,  on  Buckingl 
he  continued  the  treaty  for  the  marria 
royal,  and  Henry  Tudor. 

After  the  utter  failure  of  Buckingh 
reduced  to  despair,  and  finally  was  foi 
render  herself  and  daughters  into  th* 
1484.  For  this  step  she  has  been  bhu 
not  taken  a  clear  and  close  view  of 
She  had  probablv.  in  th*  #•#*».—  -^ 


SLIZABBTH    WOODVILLK.  337 

he  kept  s  gnard  of  soldiers  round  the  abbey,  commanded  by  John  Net- 
field,  who  watched  all  comers  and  goers.  Elizabeth,  however,  would 
not  leare  her  retreat,  without  exacting  a  solemn  oath,  guaranteeing  the 
nfety  of  her  children  from  Richard ;  which  the  usurper  took  in  the 
presence  of  the  lord-mayor  and  aldermen,  as  well  as  the  lords  o(  the 
council.  The  terms  of  EUizabeth^s  surrender  are  peculiarly  bitter ;  for  it  is 
CTident  that  she  and  her  daughters  not  only  descended  into  the  rank  of 
mere  private  gentlewomen,  but  she  herself  was  held  in  personal  restraint, 
iince  the  annuity  of  seven  hundred  marks,  allotted  by  act  of  parliament 
for  her  subsistence,  was  to  be  paid,  not  to  her,  but  to  John  Nesfield, 
squire  of  the  body  to  king  Richard,  ^for  the  finding,  exhibition  and 
attendance  of  Dame  Elizabeth  Gray  (late  calling  herself  queen  of  Eng- 
land)." Thus  Elizabeth  had  not  a  servant  she  could  call  her  own,  for 
this  myrmidon  of  king  Richard^s  was  to  find  her,  not  only  with  food 
and  clothes,  but  attendance. 

Afler  leaving  sanctuary,  some  obscure  apartments  in  the  palace  of 
Westminster  are  supposed  to  have  been  the  place  of  her  abode.  From 
thence  she  wrote  to  her  son  Dorset  at  Paris,  to  put  an  end  immediately 
to  the  treaty  of  marriage  between  the  earl  of  Richmond  and  the  princess 
Elizabeth,  and  to  return  to  her.  The  parties  who  had  projected  the 
marriage  were  struck  with  consternation,  and  greatly  incensed  at  the 
queen's  conduct ;  but  these  steps  were  the  evident  result  of  the  personal 
restraint  she  was  then  enduring. 

If  Richard  III.  chose  to  court  her  daughter  as  his  wife,  queen  Eliza- 
beth ought  to  be  acquitted  of  blame ;  for  it  is  evident,  that  if  she  had 
been  as  yielding  in  the  matter  as  commonly  supposed,  she  would  not 
have  been  under  the  control  of  John  Nesfield. 

The  successful  termination  of  the  expedition  undertaken  by  the  earl 
of  Richmond,  to  obtain  his  promised  bride,  and  the  crown  of  Enghndy 
at  onoe  avenged  the  widowed  queen  and  her  family  on  the  usurper,  and 
restored  her  to  liberty.  Instead  of  being  under  the  despotic  control  of 
the  royal  hunchback's  man-at-arms,  the  queen  made  joyful  preparation 
lo  receive  her  eldest  daughter,  who  was  brought  to  her  at  Westminster, 
from  Sheriff  Hutton,  with  honour,  attended  by  a  great  company  of  noble 
ladies.' 

Queen  Elizabeth  had  the  care  of  her  daughter  till  the  January  follow- 
ing the  battle  of  Bosworth,  when  she  saw  her  united  in  marriage  to 
Henry  of  Richmond,  the  acknowledged  king  of  England. 

One  of  Henry  VII.'s  first  acts  was  to  invest  the  mother  of  his  queen 
with  the  privileges  and  state  befitting  her  rank,  as  the  widow  of  an  Eng- 
lish sovereign.  She  had  never  been  recognised  as  queen-dowager, 
excepting  in  the  few  wrangling  privy-councils  that  intervened,  between 
the  death  of  her  husband,  and  her  retreat  into  the  abbey  of  Westminster ; 
and  even  during  these,  her  advice  had  been  disregarded,  and  her  orders 
defied ;  therefore  to  Henry  Vll.,  her  son-in-law,  she  oweil  the  first  re- 
gular recogrnition  of  her  rights,  as  widow  of  an  English  sovereign.  Un* 
Fortunately  Elizabeth   had  not  been  dowered  on  the  lands  anciently 

>Lord  BMK>n't  Life  of  Henry  VII.  p.  2. 


xE«»iiuu{^ii  ou  iiiucii  nas  oren  said  i 
tecution  of  his  mother-in-law,  this, 
her  which  appears  on  the  rolls,  is  n 
the  were  deprived  of  her  rights  ai 
exists  of  the  fact,  excepting  mere  as 
eontemporaries,  to  be  credited  with 
era  when  a  country  was  divided  into 
the  reign  of  Henry  Vll.  in  a  continu 
yjl.  personally  disliked  his  mother 
means  singular,  for  there  never  wai 
more  personal  enemies ;  hut  that  he 
or  dignity,  remains  yet  to  be  proved 

This  queen  had  passed  through 
wean  the  most  frivoloos  person  trot 
to  mourn  the  untimely  deaths  of  thr 
daughters  wholly  destitute,  and  dep 
can  therefore  scarcely  be  matter  of 
■he  seldom  shared  in  the  gaieties  of  ] 
the  appeared  there  frequently  enough 
dons,  that  she  fell  into  disgrace  with 
lions  of  the  earl  of  Lincoln  and  La 
possible  ?    The  earl  of  Lincoln  had 
by  Richard  HI.,  and,  as  such,  was  t 
and  Lambert  Simnel  represented  a  yo 
her  enemy,  and  the  grandson  of  the  i 
foe  of  all  the  house  of  Woodville. 
declared  to  be  in  disgrace  for  such  ui 


BLIXABBTn    WOODTILLJi*  S39 

« 

dnl.'^  After  describing  the  proce9sion,  in  which  the  princess  Cicely 
carried  the  infant,  the  historian  adds,  ^  Queen  Ellizab^th  was  in  the 
cathedral,  abiding  the  coming  of  the  prince ;  she  gave  a  rich  cup  of  gold, 
covered,  which  was  borne  by  Sir  Davy  Owen.  The  earl  of  Derby  gave 
a  gold  salt,  and  the  Lord  Mai tra vers  gave  a  cofier  of  gold ;  these  stand- 
ing with  the  queen  as  sponsors.''  * 

Soon  afterwards,  Henry  VII.  songht  to  strengthen  his  interest  in 
Scotland,  by  negotiating  a  marriage  between  James  III.  and  his  mother^ 
iii4aw,  a  husband  certainly  young  enough  to  be  her  son ;  yet  his  violent 
death  alone  prevented  her  from  wearing  the  crown  matrimonial  of  Scot- 
land^— when  she  would  have  been  placed  in  a  situation  to  injure  her 
•on-in-law,  if  such  had  been  her  wish. 

The  last  time  the  queen-dowager  appeared  in  public  was  in  a  situa- 
tion of  the  highest  dignity.  The  queen-consort  had  taken  to  her  cham- 
ber, previously  to  her  accouchement,  in  the  close  of  the  year  1489, 
when  her  mother,  Elizabeth  Woodville,  received  the  French  ambassador* 
in  great  state,  assisted  by  Margaret,  the  king's  mother. 

The  next  year,  Henry  VII.  presented  his  mother-in-law  with  an  annu- 
ity of  400/.'  No  surrender  of  lands  of  equal  value  has  yet  been  disco- 
vered ;  yet,  strange  to  say,  historians  declare  she  was  stripped  of  every 
thing,  because  about  this  time  she  retired  into  the  convent  of  Bermond- 
•ey.  Here  she  had  every  right  to  be,  not  as  a  prisoner,  but  as  a  che- 
rished and  highly  honoured  inmate :  for  the  prior  and  monks  of  Ber- 
mondsey  were  solemnly  bound,  by  the  deeds  of  their  charter,  to  find 
hoapitality  for  the  representatives  of  their  great  founder,  Clare,  earl  of 
Gloucester,  in  the  state-rooms  of  the  convent^  Now  Edward  IV.  was 
heir  to  the  Clares,  and  Elizabeth,  queen-dowager,  had  every  right,  as  his 
widow,  to  appropriate  the  apartments  expressly  reserved  for  the  use  of 
the  founder.'  She  had  a  right  of  property  there ;  and  as  it  was  the  cus- 
iom  in  the  middle  ages,  for  royal  persons  to  seek  monastic  seclusion, 
when  health  declined,  not  only  for  devotional  purposes,  but  for  medical 
advice,  where  could  Elizabeth  better  retire,  than  to  a  convent  bound  by 
its  charter  to  receive  her  ?  Eighteen  months  afler,  she  was  seized  with  a 
&tal  illness  at  Bermondsey,  and,  on  her  death-bed,  dictated  the  following 
wiU.^ 

■•  In  the  name  of  God,  6ui^  10th  April,  1493, 1,  Elisabeth,  by  the  grace  of  God 
qaeeii  of  England,  late  wife  to  the  moit  victorious  prince  of  bletced  memory, 
Edward  IV. 

«•  Itewi.  I  bequeath  my  body  to  be  buried  with  the  body  of  my  lord  at  Windsor, 
without  pompous  interring  or  costly  expenses  done  thereabout.  Item,  Whereas 
I  have  no  worldly  goods  to  do  the  queen's  grace,  my  dearest  daughter,  a  plea- 
sore  with,  neither  to  reMrard  any  of  my  children,  according  to  my  heart  and 
mind,  I  beseech  God  Almighty  to  bless  her  grace  with  all  her  noble  issue,  and 
with  as  good  a  heart  and  mind  as  may  be,  I  give  her  grace  my  blessing,  and  al. 

>  Leiand,  Collectanea,  vol.  iv.  p.  349.  *Ibid. 

•  Memoir  of  Elizabeth  of  York,  by  sir  Harris  Nicolas. 

«  Quoted  in  Londinum  Redivivum,  by  Malcolm,  ftom  Annales  Abbatv  de  Bar 
moiulsey,  formerly  belonging  to  the  Howard  ftmily,  now  in  the  British  Musemu 

*  The  noble  panelled  halls  and  state-chambers  in  this  convent  were,  in  18^4, 
standing  nearly  in  the  same  state  as  when  Elisabeth  occupied  them. 


died  the  t  nd.y  before  Whiironlkfa 
f«r  .p«dy  «,d  private  boml,  hS 
I4W.  Her  will  rfiows  il»t  she  cli. 
•ban.  no  proof  of  prerioue  peneea. 

*«•  pronded  for,  died  not  much  i 
•"Mbr  perMoe,  who  h«J  only  .  lif 

Eiiabeih  had  four  danrhter*  wl 

their  matotenance.    The  treat  xtoat 
•^ed  her  hated  d«ighteMn^w , 

Of  Eiiabeth,  ha«  dewnbed  it,  and  p» 

S  \u^  *''•'  "complied  tS:  ^ 
from  the  nrer  to  Windaor  Quile.  « 
•hughter  of  Edward  IV.*  ^ 

to  W^'liI!'"'"'?^^'  'h"  queen-dowa« 
•oWmdaor, and  Uiere pririly, Um,^ 

«wle,  withoat  any  ringin*^  bellf  , 
«com«u,ied  by  L  ^of  of  Se  C 
Haute,*  and  Misti*-,  HL.L?'J?^.  Y 


BLISABSTH    WOODTILLB.  341 

^On  the  Tuesday  hither  came,  by  water,  king  Edward^s  three 
daughters,  the  lady  Anne,  the  lady  Katherine,  and  the  lady  Bridget  (the 
nun-princess),  from  Dartford,  accompanied  by  the  marchioness  of  Dor- 
set, the  daughter  of  tlie  duke  of  Buckingham ;  the  queen^s  niece,'  the 
daughter  of  the  marquis  of  Dorset;  lady  Herbert,  also  niece  to  the 
queen ;  dame  Katherine  Gray ;  dame  Guilford  (governeas  to  the  children 
of  Elizabeth  of  York) ;  their  gentlewomen  walked  behind  the  three 
daughters  of  the  dead.  Also,  that  Tuesday  came  the  marquis  of  Dorset, 
son  to  the  queen ;  the  earl  of  Essex,  her  brother-in-law ;  and  the  vis- 
count Welles,  her  son-in-law.  And  that  night  began  the  dirge.  But 
neither  at  the  dirge  were  the  twelve  poor  men  clad  in  black,  but  a  dozen 
divers  old  men,'' —  that  is,  old  men  dressed  in  the  many-coloured  gar- 
ments of  poverty,—^^  and  they  held  old  torches  and  torches'  ends.  And 
the  next  morning  one  of  the  canons,  called  master  Vaughan,  sang  Our 
Lady  mass,  at  the  which  the  lord  Dorset  offered  a  piece  of  gold ;  he 
kneeled  at  the  hearse-head.  The  ladies  came  not  to  the  mass  of  re- 
quiem, and  the  lords  sat  about  in  the  quire.  My  lady  Anne  came  to 
ofler  the  mass-penny,  and  her  officers-at-arms  went  before  her;  she 
oflered  tHe  penny  at  tlie  head  of  the  queen,  wherefore  she  had  the  carpet 
and  the  cushion.  And  the  viscount  Welles  took  his  (wife's)  oflfering, 
and  dame  Katherine  Gray  bare  the  lady  Anne's  train ;  every  one  of  the 
king's  daughters  ofiered.    The  marquis  of  Dorset  ofiered  a  piece  of 

Sold,  and  idi  the  lords  at  their  pleasure ;  the  poor  knights  of  W  iudsor, 
ean,  canons,  yeomen,  and  officers-at-arms,  all  oflered,  and  after  mass 
the  lord  marqnis  paid  the  cost  of  the  funeral." 

At  the  east  end  of  St  Greorge's  chapel,  north  aisle,  is  the  tomb  of 
Edward  IV.,  being  a  monument  of  steel,  representing  a  pair  of  gates 
between  two  towers,  of  ancient  Gothic  architecture.'  On  a  flat  stone  at 
the  foot  of  this  monument  are  engraven,  in  old  English  chai«cters,  the 
words, 

Wnfl  BtrtsaU  sun  tCs  tfUictii,  Slffiftet^  OTHiUlle. 

In  1810,  when  the  place  of  sepulture  for  the  fiunily  of  George  III. 
was  in  course  of  prepaimtion,  at  the  east  end  of  St  George's  chapel,  aa 
excavation  was  formed  in  the  solid  bed  of  chalk,  of  the  full  size  of  the 
edifice  above,  when  two  stone  coffins,  containing  the  bodies  of  queen 
Elizabeth  Woodville  and  her  son  prince  George,  were  discovered,  fif- 
teen feet  below  the  surface:  thus  realising  the  emphatic  words  of 
Southey — 

•*  Thoui  Elizabeth,  art  hers:  I    Who  wert  placed  upon  the  bier 

Tbott  to  whom  all  griefs  were  known;  |    In  happier  hour  than  on  a  throne.** 

*  Banister  of  her  sister  Katherine,  who  married  Bnckingham. 

*Thit  beaatiful  work  of  art  it  said  to  be  bj  the  hand  o£  Quentin  Matsyi,  the 
Fleniiah  blaekftmitb-painter;  it  hat  the  appearance  of  black  lace. 

*The  third  ton  of  Elisabeth,  who  died  in  infrnoy.  The  coffin  of  her  tecoiul 
daughter,  the  princen  Mary,  a  beautiful  girl  of  fifteen,  who  died  the  year  befiwa 
her  lather,  wat  toon  after  ditcoyered.  A  curl  of  hair,  of  the  moet  eiquitite  pale 
pold,  had  Inrinnated  itself  through  the  ehinks  of  the  ooffia;  it  wat  cut  ofl;  and  is 
ia  Une  pretervation. 


9i  Warwick,  lut  PteBifwnrt  qM 
York  mmI  \MVfmimn — Her  ftimorwl  be 
•rd  of  Qlonc^etBt  HU  earlj  •coaainimi 
hagv  of  her  sMtr — RetnnM  to  Eagfun 
buile— DiftfCM  before  Celei*— Lendt 
prinee  of  Wilet  Bemiiut  with  qaec 
Cloeemir  wiibee  to  marry  her — Her  ■ 
-^Riehaid  diaoovers  her— She  reaidea  « 
piopertf— GmpeUed  to  marrj  Rkha 
aoo^Raudeaee  at  Bfiddleham^Daatl 
lor  Loodoo — Anne't  arhTal  at  the  Ton 
Dorth— Her  ■on— Re-oorooatioo  of  Rk 
qneen — Death  of  her  tOD— Her  filial  f 
lioii  of  her  hashand  refaidinf  her — I 
ooonplaiiits— Her  kindneia  to  FJiiabei 
bariaL 

AiTHB  OF  Wabwick,  the  hit  of  oi 
who  had  prerioatly  borne  the  title  o 
Warwick  Cattle,  io  the  year  1454.' 
choly  portimit  of  this  onfoituoate  lai 
raateroal  aDcestrj,  called  the  Rous  Ri 
trodoced,  oflering  U>  her  the  rival  ero 
the  while  bear,  the  cogniiaoce  aeaui 

*  There  have  been  bat  ax  princeMoe  of 
left  widows ;  and  it  is  singular,  that  all 
qneen-consorts,  neither  of  them  derired 
she  had  wedded.    The  first  princea  of 
the  Black  Prince,  died  of  a  broken  heart 
the  widow  of  Edward  of  Lancaster,  prif 
Hke  misfortunes  of  Katharine  of  Arracon, 


▲  RRB  OF  WAmwicx.  343 

the  kiog-maker,  lies  muzzled  at  her  feet,  as  if  the  royal  lions  of  Plan- 
tagenet  had  quelled  the  pride  of  that  hitherto  tameless  bear,  oa  the 
blood-stained  heath  of  Barnet 

The  principal  events  which  marked  the  career  of  her  ftther  have  been 
traced  in  the  memoirs  of  the  two  preceding  queens.  Richard  Neville, 
sumamed  the  king-making  earl  of  Warwick,  was  heir,  in  right  of  the 
countess  his  mother,  to  the  vast  inheritance  of  the  Montagues,  earls  of 
Salisbury.  He  aggrandized  himself  in  a  higher  degree  by  his  union,  in 
1448,  with  Anne,  the  sister  of  Beauehamp,  earl  of  Warwick,  who  had 
become  sole  heiress  of  that  mighty  line,  by  the  early  death  of  her  niece 
the  preceding  year.  Richard  was  soon  after  summoned  to  the  house  of 
lords,  in  right  of  his  wife,  as  earl  of  Warwick.  He  possessed  -an  in- 
come of  22,000  marks  per  annum,  but  had  no  male  heir,  his  fiunily  con- 
sisting but  of  two  daughters ;  the  eldest,  lady  Isabel,'  was  very  hand- 
some. Bucke  calls  lady  Anne  ^  the  better  woman  of  the  two,''  but  he 
gives  no  reason  for  the  epithet 

When,  on  the  convalescence  of  king  Henry,  Mai^ret  of  Anjou  re- 
covered her  former  influence  in  the  government,  Warwick,  having  good 
reason  to  dread  her  vengeance,  withdrew,  with  his  countess  and  younc 
daughters,  to  his  government  of  Galais,  where  much  of  the  childhood 
and  early  youth  of  the  lady  Anne  were  spent  Occasionally,  indeed, 
when  the  star  of  York  was  in  the  ascendant,  Warwick  brought  the  ladies 
of  his  fiunily,  either  to  his  feudal  castle,  or  his  residence  in  Warwick 
Lane.  The  site  of  this  mansion  is  still  known  by  the  name  of  War^ 
wick  Court  Here  the  earl  exercised  semi-barbarous  hospiuility,  in  the 
year  1458,'  when  a  pacification  was  attempted,  between  the  warring 
houses  of  York  and  Lancaster ;  six  hundred  of  the  retainers  of  Anne's 
&ther  were  quartered  in  Warwick  Lane,  ^  all  dressed  alike  in  red  jackets, 
with  the  bear  and  ragged  staflf  embroidered  both  before  and  behind.  At 
Warwick  House,  six  oxen  were  daily  devoured  for  break&st,  and  all  the 
taverns  about  St  Paul's  and  Newgate  Street  were  full  of  Warwick's 
meat,  for  any  one  who  could  claim  acquaintance  with  that  earl's  red- 
jacketed  gentry  might  resort  to  his  flesh-pots,  and,  sticking  his  dagger 
therein,  carry  ofi*  as  much  beef  as  could  be  taken  on  a  long  dagger." 

At  this  period  the  closest  connexion  subsisted  between  the  £unilies 
i)f  the  duke  of  York  and  the  earl  of  Warwick.  Richard  PlanUigenet 
afterwards  Richard  HI.,  was  two  years  older  than  the  lady  Anne ;  he  was 
bora  October  2d,  1452,  at  his  lather's  princely  castle  of  Fotheringay. 
He  was  the  youngest  son  of  Richard  duke  of  York  and  his  duchess 
Cicely,  the  earl  of  Warwick's  aunt  ^At  his  nativity,"  says  Rous,  a 
contemporary  chronicler,  ^  the  scorpion  was  in  the  ascendant ;  he  came 
into  the  world  with  teeth,  and  with  a  head  of  hair  reaching  to  his  shoul- 
ders. He  was  small  of  stature,  with  a  short  &ce  and  unequal  shoulderS| 
the  right  being  higher  than  the  leA."' 

>  Bom  at  Warwick  CafUe,  1451.     Rout  Roll,  Herald't  College. 

*  8lo¥r*t  London. 

*  Tbo  oft-quoted  tattimonjr  of  the  old  oonnteet  of  Desmond  ought  not  to  invmb- 
daie  this  statement;  for  many  a  lady  would  think  any  prince  handtome  who 
bed  danced  with  her.     Rout  knew  Ridiard  well\  Ua  ma.  v>uV|  AAVitM:«M^\k\addk 
WifiD  the  pen,  hut  with  peuciL— 4)ee  the  Eous  BoVL 


ICIi  iiaiiu  f  111*  aivKsi)  »iiv  uuvii 

maklens  his  cousins,  the  ladr  Anne  a 
to  himJ  These  ladies  must  have  be< 
the  prince,  by  allbrding  him  coropa 
coontess  of  Warwick,  their  mother,  i 
much  lower  in  dignity.  Richard  be 
aunt,  an  intimacy  naturally  subsisted 
jerres,  a  Flemish  annalist,  affirms  tha 
aftctiou  for  his  cousin  Anne ;  but  s 
lady  did  not  bestow  the  same  regard 
on  his  brother  Clarence,  nor  was  it  tc 
agreeable  person  and  temper.  As  lad; 
backed  cousin,  there  was  no  inducei 
of  huf  brother,  king  Edward. 

h  was  in  vain  his  brother  Qarem 
wick,  <*By  sweet  9l  George  I  swei 
would  ioin  me,  1  would  make  Edwa 
•ons,  which  should  be  nearer  to  him  t 

Anne  was,  at  this  juncture,  with 
^  For,**  continues  Hall,*  *•  the  earl  of  ^ 
sailed  directly  thither,  where  they  we 
entertained  by  the  countess  of  Wan 
aAer  the  duke  had  sworn  on  the  sac 
mise  with  the  earl,  he  married  Isabel 
the  presence  of  the  countess  and  her 

The  earl  of  Warwick,  accompanief 
returned  with  the  newly-wedded  pair 
in-law  soon  raised  a  civil  war,  that 
After  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Edgec 
with  his  familv  to  Dartmouth,  where 


▲  MHB  Of  WAmwicx.  IM5 

in  labour,  with  her  first  child.'  In  the  midst  of  this  accumulation  of 
disasters,  the  tempest-tossed  bark  made  the  offing  of  Calais ;  but  in  spite 
of  the  distress  on  board,  Vauclere,  whom  Warwick  had  left  as  his  lieu- 
tenant, held  out  the  town  against  him,  and  would  not  permit  the  ladies 
to  land ;  he,  however,  sent  two  flagons  of  wine  on  board,  for  the  duchess 
of  Clarence,  with  a  private  message,  assuring  Warwick  ^  that  the  refusal 
arose  from  the  townspeople,*'  and  advising  him  to  make  some  other  port 
in  France.'  The  duchess  of  Clarence  soon  after  gave  birth,  on  board 
ship,  to  the  babe  who  had  chosen  so  inappropriate  a  time  for  his  en- 
trance into  a  troublesome  world,  and  the  whole  family  landed  safely  at 
Dieppe,  the  beginning  of  May,  1470.  When  they  were  able  to  travel, 
the  lady  Anne,  her  mother  and  sister,  attended  by  Clarence  and  War- 
wick, journeyed  across  France  to  Amboise,  where  they  were  graciously 
received  by  Louis  XI.,  and  that  treaty  was  finally  completed  which  made 
Anne  the  wife  of  Edward,  the  gallant  heir  of  Lancaster.' 

This  portion  of  the  life  of  Anne  of  Warwick  is  so  inextricably  inter* 
woven  with  that  of  her  mother-in-law,  queen  Margaret,  that  it  were  vain 
to  repeat  it  a  second  time.  Suffice  it  to  observe  that  the  bride  was  in  her 
seventeenth,  the  bridegroom  in  his  nineteenth  year,  and  that  Prevost 
afiirros  that  the  match  was  one  of  ardent  love  on  both  sides.  The 
prince  was  well  educated,  refined  in  manners,  and,  moreover,  his  portrait 
in  the  Rous  Roll  bean  out  the  tradition  that  he  was  eminently  hand- 
some. The  ill-fiited  pair  remained  in  each  other's  company  from  their 
marriage  at  Angera,  in  August  1470,  till  the  fatal  field  of  Tewksbury, 
May  4th,  1471.^ 

Although  the  tevtiraony  of  George  Bucke  must  be  received  with  the 
utmost  caution,'  yet  he  quotes  a  contemporary  Flemish  chronicler,'  who 
afiHrms  that  ^  Anne  was  with  her  husband,  Edward  of  Lancaster,  when 
that  unfortunate  prince  was  hurried  before  Edward  lY.,  after  the  battle 
of  Tewksbury,  and  that  it  was  observed,  Richard  duke  of  Gloucester 
was  the  only  pereon  present  who  did  not  draw  his  sword  on  the  royal 
captive,  out  of  respect  to  the  presence  of  Anne,  as  she  was  the  near 
relative  of  his  mother,  and  a  person  whose  affections  he  had  always  de- 
sired to  possess." 

English  chroniclera,  however,  affirm  that,  at  this  very  moment  Anne 
was  with  her  unhappy  mother-in-law,  queen  Bfargaret  AAer  Margaret 
was  taken  away  to  the  Tower  of  London,  Clarence  privately  abducted 
his  sister-HU-law,  under  the  pretence  of  protecting  her.  As  he  was  her 
sister's  husband,  he  was  exceedin^y  unwilling  to  divide  the  united  inhe- 
ritance of  Warwick  and  Salisbury,  which  he  knew  must  be  done,  if  his 
brother  Gloucester  carried  into  execution  his  avowed  intention  of  mar- 
rying Anne.    But  very  dififerent  was  the  conduct  of  the  young  widow 

'Hall,  p.  279.  'Cominai.  'Ibid.  « Hall,  p.  28a 

*Sir  John  Bucke  wms  in  the  tervkse  of  Richard  III.,  and  high  in  hit  fiivoar;  he 
waa  beheaded  at  Leicester  after  the  battle  of  Botworth,  and  his  Suniiy  nearly 
ruined.  For  this  reason  the  atmoM  degree  of  pertonal  prejudice  guides  the  pea 
of  Richard's  hintorian,  liis  descendant,  when  vindicating  that  usurper,  and  a^eit 
'ng  the  reputation  of  everjr  oonnexioii  of  Henrf  VIL 
*  W.  Keimet.  Bucke,  vol.  i.  p.  549. 
21  • 


iMT ;  mis  was  mucn  disapproved  by  t 
who  did  not  wish  to  divide  his  wife 
the  yoanf  lady.  But  the  cunning  of 
her,  in  the  disguise  of  a  cook-maid  in 
diately  transferred  her  to  the  sanctuar 
need^l  this  asylum,  because  she  was 
hapless  mother  and  queen  Maigaret  w 

The  unfortunate  widow  of  prince  E 
the  protection  of  her  uncle  Oeoige,'  i 
e?en  permitted  to  visit  and  comfort  hi 
at  the  Tower;  but  as  she  still  rasa 
deprived  of  her  unde^s  protection,  1 
cousin. 

The  unfortunate  mother  of  Anne  n 
first  taken,  till  the  same  year.  A  let 
serves,  ^  that  the  countess  of  Warwi 
and  that  sir  James  Tyrrel'  conveyeth 
Clarence  liketh  it  not"  And  on  Api 
world  seemeth  queasy,  for  all  the  pers< 
sent  for  their  armour,  on  account  of 
htance  of  Anne."^ 

The  dispute  was  debated  in  counc 
assigning  certain  lands  to  the  duke  c 
rest  of  the  estate  to  Clarence.  This 
of  Anne,  countess  of  Warwick,  the  m< 
true  heiress  of  the  vast  estates  of  De 
act  of  parliament  specified  ^  that  the  e< 

^  Continuator  of  Cropland  ChroDicle,  p.  5 
espresflions,  appears  to  have  at  one  time 


▲  RMB    OF    WAmWICK.  9t4T 

to  be  considered,  in  the  award  of  her  inheritance,  than  if  she  were 
dead." '  In  hct,  Rous  accuses  Richard  of  incarcerating,  during  his  life, 
^  the  venerable  countess  Anna,  the  rightful  mistress  of  the  Warwick  patri- 
mony, when  in  her  distress  she  fled  to  him,  as  her  son-in-law,  for  pro- 
tection," an  ill-deed  which  has  not  commonly  been  enumerated  in  the 
ample  list  of  Richard^s  iniquities. 

The  marriage  of  the  lady  Anne  and  Richard  duke  of  Gloucester  took 
place  at  Westminster,'  1473,  probably  a  few  days  before  the  date  of 
Paston's  letter.  Prevost  affirms  she  was  compelled  by  violence  to  marry 
Richard.  Some  illegalities  were  connected  with  this  ceremony,  assur- 
edly arising  from  the  reluctance  of  the  bride,  since  the  Parliamentary 
Rolls  of  the  next  year  contain  a  curious  act,  empowering  the  duke  of 
Gloucester  ^  to  continue  the  full  possession  and  enjoyment  of  Anne's  . 
property,  even  if  she  were  to  divorce  hinij  provided  he  did  his  best  to 
be  reconciled  and  re-married  to  her :" — ominous  clauses  relating  to  a 
wedlock  of  a  few  months ! — but  which  prove  that  Anne  meditated  avail- 
ing herself  of  some  informality  in  her  abhorred  marriage ;  but  if  she 
had  done  so,  her  husband  would  have  remained  in  possession  of  her 
property.  The  informalities  most  likely  arose  from  the  want  of  the 
poper  bulls  to  dispense  with  relationship;  and  as  the  free  consent  of 
both  bride  and  bridegroom  was  an  indispensable  preliminaiy  to  such 
dispensation,  the  absence  of  these  legal  instruments  negatively  prove 
that  the  unfortunate  Anne  Neville  never  consented  to  her  second  mar- 
riage. The  birth  of  her  son  Edward  at  Middleham  Castle,  1474,  pro- 
bably reconciled  the  unhappy  duchess  of  Gloucester  to  her  miserable 
fate ;  but  that  her  marriage  was  never  legalised,  may  be  guessed  by  the 
mmotun  of  a  subsequent  period,  when  the  venomous  hunchback,  her 
eousin-husband,  meditated  in  his  turn  divorcing  her, 

Richard  and  Anne  lived  chiefly  at  Middleham  Castle,  in  Yorkshire, 
an  abode  convenient  for  the  office  borne  by  the  duke,  as  governor  of 
the  northern  marches.  As  a  very  active  war  was  proceeding  with  Scot- 
land, in  the  course  of  which  Richard  won  several  battles,  and  captured 
Edinburgh,'  his  reluctant  wife  was  not  troubled  much  with  his  com- 
pany, but  devoted  herself  to  her  boy,  in  whom  all  her  aflections  were 
centred,  and  the  veiy  springs  of  her  life  wound  up  in  his  welfare.  Dur- 
ing her  abode  at  Middleham  she  lost  her  sister,  the  duchess  of  Clarence, 
who  died  December  12th,  1476. 

The  death  of  Edward  IV.  caused  a  great  change  in  the  life  of  Anne. 
The  duke  of  Gloucester,  who  had  very  recently  returned  from  Scotland, 
left  Anne  and  his  bov  at  Middleham,  when  he  departed,  with  a  troop  of 
horse,  to  intercept  his  young  nephew,  Edward  v.,  on  progress  to  Lon- 
don. Richard's  household-book^  at  Middleham,  affords  some  notitia 
regarding  the  son  of  Anne  of  Warwick,  during  his  (athet's  absence. 
Geoflry  Frank  is  allowed  22«.  dd,  for  greencloth,  and  Is.  Sd.  for  making 
it  into  gowns  for  my  lord  prince  and  Mr.  Neville ;  5s.  for  choosing  a 

Cfcrte,  Reign  of  Edwnrd  IV^  1473. 
*  ^prott  Fragment,  at  to  place ;  but  it  gives  dttte,  1474.     Hntton  givei  1473,  m 
the  date.  *  Holingthed.  «  HarleiMi  MSS^  433. 


wiui  iicr  son,  in  ume  lo  share  tier 
think  her  arriTal  was  but  just  bef* 
the   occasion,  was   only  bought  l 
There  is  an  order  to  ^  Piers  Can 
qneen,  four  and  a  half  yards  of  p 
July  3d.^     Short  time  had  the  tin 
day  their  skill  in  the  fitting  of  her 
be  worn  on  the  6th  of  the  same 
who  had  preriously  been  prodaimc 
son,  in  great  stale,  by  water,  frc 
where  his  hapless  little  prisooers  w 
ments,  and  were  consigiied  to  a  tof 
the  Bloody  Tower.'    The  same  d 
created  prince  of  Wales.'    The  gra 
and  their  young  heir,  through  the  c 
they  were  attended  from  the  Towc 
sans,  whom  tlie  king  and  queen  < 
who  were  regarded  by  the  citiiens  i 
pack  of  vagabonds.    The  next  da} 
ard  and  his  queen  took  place,  wit 
great  part  of  which  had  been  prepa 
Edward  V. 

*^  On  the  following  day,"  says  G 

His  wife,  came  down  out  of  the  wl 

ainster,  and  went  directly  to  the  ] 

»ime,  and  from  thence  the  king  and 

cloth  unto  king  Edward^s  shrine,  i 


▲  miB  Of   WAEWICK.  91$ 

**Theii  came,''  eontinues  a  contemporary  manuscript,'  "  onr  aorcreign 
lady  the  queen,  over  her  head  a  canopy,  and  at  every  corner  a  bell  of 
gold ;  and  on  her  head  a  circlet  of  gold,  with  many  precious  stones  set 
therein ;  and  on  every  side  of  the  queen  went  a  bishop ;  and  my  lady  of 
Richmond'  bare  the  queen's  train.    So  they  went  from  St  Edward's 
shrine  to  the  seats  of  state  by  the  altar,  and  when  the  king  and  queen 
were  seated,  there  came  forth  their  highnesses'  priests  and  clerks,  sing^ 
ing  most  delectably,  Latin  and  pricksong,*  full  royally."  This  part  of  the 
ceremonial  concluded,  ^  the  king  and  queen  came  down  from  their  seats 
of  estate,  and  the  king  had  great  observance  and  service."    Our  autho- 
rity states,  that  the  king  and  queen  ^  put  off  their  robes,  and  stood  all 
naked  from  their  waists  upwards,^  till  the  bishop  had  anointed  them." 
Their  majesties  afterwards  assumed  their  robes  of  cloth  of  gold,  and 
cardinal  Morton  crowned  them  both  with  much  solemnity.   The  priests 
«nd  clerks  sung  ^  Te  Deum"  with  great  royalty.    The  homage  was 
paid  at  that  part  of  the  mass  called  the  ofiertory,  during  which  time  the 
queen  sat  with  the  bishops  and  peeresses,  while  Richard  received  the 
kiss  of  fealty  from  his  peers.    The  bishops  of  Exeter  and  Norwich 
stood  on  each  side  the  queen ;  the  countess  of  Richmond  was  on  her 
led  hand,  and  the  duchess  of  Norfolk  knelt  behind  the  queen  with  the 
other  ladies.    Then  the  king  and  queen  came  down  to  the  high  altar 
and  kneeled,  and  anon  the  cardinal  turned  him  about  with  the  holy 
sacrament  in  his  hand,  and  parted  it  between  them  both,  and  thus  they 
received  the  good  Lord." 

Their  crowns  were  ofiisred,  as  usual,  at  St  Edward's  shrrne.  The 
king  proceeded  out  of  the  abbey-church,  and  the  queen  followed,  bear- 
ing the  sceptre  in  her  right  hand,  and  the  dove  with  the  rod  in  her  left, 
ao  going  forth  till  they  came  to  the  high  dais  at  Westminster  Hail ;  and 
when  they  came  there,  they  lefr  their  canopies  standing,  and  retired  to 
their  chambei  Meantime  the  duke  of  Norfolk*  came  riding  into  West- 
minster Hall,  his  horse  trapped  with  cloth  of  gold  down  to  the  ground, 
and  he  voided  it  of  all  people  but  the  king's  servants.  And  the  duke 
of  Buckingham  called  to  the  marshal,  saying  how  ^  the  kinff  would 
have  his  lords  sit  at  four  boards  in  the  hall ;"  and  at  four  o'clock  the 
king  and  queen  came  to  the  high  dais.  On  the  queen's  riffht  hand  stood 
my  lady  Surrey,  and  on  her  left  the  lady  Nottingham,  holding  a  canopy 
of  state  over  her  head. 

*Harleian  MSS.,  2115.   Commutiieated  bj  John  Bnce,  Esq. 

'  Mother  of  Heniy  Tudor,  afterwards  Henry  VII. 

*  Meaning  they  tang  from  musical  notes  set  in  alternate  parts. 

*This  expression,  which  appears  startling  at  first,  merely  implies  the  Act  that 
Jtiohard  and  Anne  were  then  divested  of  their  regal  mandes  and  insignia,  pre- 
paratory to  being  anointed,  and  renmined  in  their  under  garments^  The  attire 
in  use,  during  the  administration  of  that  rite,  is  particularly  described  in  the 
**  Order  for  the  coronation  of  the  kings  of  France,**  as  "  close-fitting  tunics  of  silk, 
having  apertures  on  the  breast,  and  between  the  shoulders,  which  at  the  time 
prescribed  were  drawn  aside,  in  order  that  the  consecrating  prelate  might  traoe 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  with  the  tip  of  the  thumb  moistened  in  the  chrism,  as  or- 
dained in  the  pontifical." 

*OralVon  asserts  that  there  were  three  duchesses  of  Norfolk  present  Kso^  dir 
;nftat  wiflp  of  Richard  duke  of  Tork  must  have  been  one  of  the<A.« 


• 

I 


king  and  her  sou.  Uere  Richani 
progress,  ending  at  Tewlubury. 
menced  a  splendid  progT«aa»  in  n 
latee  and  peens  and  the  Spanish  a 
an  alliance  between  tlie  eldest  dau 
Isabella,  and  the  aoo  of  Richard  1 
j  Warwick  GbMie,  the  place  of  her 

&ther,  which  belonged  to  the  yo 
sister  Inbel  and  the  duke  of  Clai 
the  queen  brought  him  with  her 
Warwick  Castle,  where  they  kept 
week.     It  must  have  been  at  this  f 
of  Richard  III.,  and  their  son,  wen 
pular  opinion  concerning  Richard's 
for  his  figure,  if  not  crooked,  is  deci< 
ance  be  attributed  to  the  artist's  lac 
form,  for  the  neighbouring  portrai 
Annexe  &ther,  the  great  earl  of  War 
meant  for  a  model  of  St  George, 
thick  shoulders,  and  no  neck.    Sun 
not  been  matter  of  great  notoriety, 
noble  sketch  as  that  of  the  earl,  woi 
and  shoulders  in  quite  such  close  coi 
was  alive,  when  this  series  of  portra 
flattery  exists,  in  all  probability  Rid 
Among  other  contemporary  desi 

I  GraHon,  collated  with  the  Harleiftn  1 
•The  whole  paragraph  it  from  Rft»i«'* 


AHHB   OF    WAEWIOK. 


»1 


known,  it  the  following  metrical  portrait*    The  aothor  teems  inelined 
to  apologise  for  drawing  him  as  he  really  was  :— 


*'  The  king*8  own  brother,  he,  I  mean, 
Who  wns  deformed  hy  nature : 
Crook-backed  and  ill-conditioned ; 


Worse-faced— an  ugly  creature; 
Tet  a  great  peer,  for  princes — peer*-* 
Are  not  always  beauteons." 


From  Warwick  Castle  queen  Anne  and  king  Richard  went  to  Coven- 
Iry,  where  was  dated  August  15th,  1488,  a  memorandum  of  an  account 
of  180/.  owed  to  Richard  Gowles,  mercer,  London,  for  goods  delivered 
for  the  use  of  queen  Anne,  as  specified  in  hills  in  the  care  of  John  Ken- 
dal, the  king's  secretary.  The  court  arrived  at  York,  August  31.  The 
re-eoronation  of  the  king  and  queen,  likewise  the  re-investiture  of 
prince  Edward  of  Gloucester  as  prince  of  Wales,  took  place  soon  after, 
at  this  city ;  measures  which  must  have  originated  in  the  fact,  that  the 
tons  of  Edward  IV.  having  been  put  to  death  during  the  northern  pro- 
gress of  the  court,  the  usurper  considered  that  oaths  of  allegiance, 
taken  at  the  re-coronation,  would  be  more  legal  than  when  the  right 
heira  were  alive.  The  overflowing  paternity  of  Richard,  which,  per- 
haps, uived  him  to  commit  some  of  his  crime&i  thus  speaks,  in  his 
patents  fer  creating  his  son  prince  of  Wales :  ^  Whose  singular  wit  and 
endowments  of  nature  wherewith  (his  young  age  considered)  he  is  re- 
inarkaby  furnished,  do  portend,  by  the  favour  of  God,  that  he  will 
make  an  honest  man."'  But  small  chance  was  there  for  such  a  mira- 
cle, if  his  life  had  been  spared.  It  is  curious  that  Richard  III.  should 
express  hopes  for  his  son's  future  honesty,  at  the  very  moment  when 
he  was  putting  him  in  possession  of  his  murdered  cousins'  property. 

After  the  coronation  had  been  performed  in  York  cathedral,  queen 
Anne  walked  in  grand  procession  through  the  streets  of  the  city,  hold- 
ing her  little  son  by  the  right  hand ;  he  wore  the  demi-crown  appointed 
for  the  heir  of  England. 

The  Middleham  household-book  mentions,  that  five  marks  were  paid 
to  Michell  Wharton,  for  bringing  the  prince's  jewels  from  York,  on  this 
occasion.  The  same  document  proves  that  the  court  were  at  Ponte- 
fract,  September  15th;  that  fearful  fortress,  recently  stained  with  the 
blood  of  Richard's  victims.  Richard  gave,  by  the  way,  in  charity  to  a 
poor  woman,  8s.  6d.\  the  chaige  of  baiting  the  royal  charette  was  2d.i 
and  the  expenses  of  the  removal  of  my  lord  prince's  household  to 
Pontefract,  24s. 

A  formidable  insurrection,  headed  by  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  re- 
called Richard  to  the  metropolis ;  he  left  his  son,  for  security,  among 
his  northern  friend/S  but  queen  Anne  accompanied  her  husband. 

It  is  a  doubtful  point  whether  Anne  approved  of  the  crimes  which 
thus  advanced  her  son.  Tradition  declares  she  abhorred  tliem,  but  par- 
liamentary documents  prove  she  shared  with  sir  James  Tyrrel  the  plun 

*  A  curious  MS.,  in  the  possession  of  sir  Thomas  Phillipps,  of  Middle  Hill,  su|^ 
pnaed  to  be  written  by  it  Olover,  •  herald ;  it  is  called  **  The  Honour  of  Ch«- 
ihire/' 

*  White  Kenneths  notes  to  Booke.  The  prince  was  tevan  years  old  acoccdiag 
ID  Rous. 


1  he  loss  of  Ihis  child,  in  w 

garnered,  struck  to  her  he 

health  or  comfort ;  she  seen 

this  dreadful  loss  her  only  a 

declining  and  miserable  cons 

he  did  not  consider  her  in 

certainly  did ;  for  they  begai 

gality  of  the  king^s  marriage 

A»  Edward  IV.'s  parliament  ( 

diTorce  Richard  in  1474,  it  c 

resorted  to  the  same  manner 

Her  evident  decline,  howe 

any  trouble  regarding  a  divor 

ing  peevish  complaints  to  I 

his  wife's  sickliness  and  dis 

just  been  released  from  as  ; 

ofl^  to  a  spiritual  peer,  who 

tured  to  prophesy,  from  the8< 

suddenly  depart  iVom  this  w 

g^ard-chamber,  and  gave  rise 

suflenngs  in  a  protracted  dec! 

for  some  days,  was  actually  c 

Anne  was  sitting  at  her  toil 

strange  rumour  was  commun 

forerunner  of  her  death  by  vi 

her  husband,  with  her  liair  < 

eyes  and  piteous  sobs  askec 


ANIIB    OF    WAmWICX. 

le  next  report  which  harassed  the  declining  and  dying  queen  was, 
ler  husband  was  impatient  for  her  demise,  that  he  might  gire  his 
to  his  niece,  the  princess  Elizabeth  of  York.  This  rumour  had 
fiuence  on  the  conduct  of  Anne,  since  the  continuator  of  the  Croy- 
Chronicle  mentions  the  queen's  kindness  to  her  husband's  niece, 
ese  words :  ^  The  lady  Elizabeth  (who  had  been  some  months 
f  sanctuary)  was  sent  by  her  mother  to  attend  the  queen  at  court, 
e  Christmas  festivals  kept  with  great  state  in  Westminster  Hall. 
beth  and  her  four  sisters  were  received  with  all  honourable  courtesy 
leen  Anne,  especially  the  lady  Elizabeth  was  ranked  most  fiuniliariy 
?  queen's  fevour,  who  treated  her  as  a  sister ;  but  neither  society 
ihe  loved,  nor  all  the  pomp  and  festivity  of  royalty,  could  cure  the 
lor  or  heal  the  wound  in  the  queen's  breast,  for  the  loss  of  her 
' '  The  young  earl  of  Warwick  was,  aAer  the  death  of  Richard's 
proclaimed  heir  to  the  English  throne,  and  as  such  took  his  seat  at 
lyal  table,'  during  the  lifetime  of  his  aunt,  queen  Anne.  As  these 
urs  were  withdrawn  from  the  ill-feted  boy  directly  aAer  the  death 
e  queen,  it  is  reasonable  to  infer  that  he  owed  them  to  some  influ- 
she  possessed  with  her  husband ;  since  young  Warwick,  as  her 
^s  son,  was  her  heir  as  well  as  his. 

ithin  the  year  that  deprived  Anne  of  her  only  son,  maternal  sor- 
put  an  end  to  her  existence,  by  a  decline,  slow  enough  to  acquit 
usband  of  poisoning  her ;  a  crime  of  which  he  is  accused  by  most 
rs.  She  died  at  Westminster  Palace,  on  March  16th,  1485,  in  the 
.  of  the  greatest  eclipse  of  the  sun  that  had  happened  for  oaany 
Her  funeral  was  most  pompous  and  magnificent  Her  husband 
present,  and  was  observed  to  shed  tears,'  deemed  hypocritical  bv 
y-suinder,  but  those  who  knew  that  he  had  been  brought  up  with 
,  might  suppose  that  be  felt  some  instinctive  yearnings  of  long 
lanionship,  when  he  saw  her  laid  in  that  grave  where  his  ambitious 
»ts  had  caused  him  to  wish  her  to  be.  Human  nature,  with  all  its 
icting  passions  and  instincts,  abounds  with  such  inconsistencies, 
h  are  oflen  startlingly  apparent  in  the  hardest  characters. 
it  queen  was  interred  near  the  altar  at  Westminster,  not  fiur  from 
lonument  of  Anne  of  Cleves.  No  memorial  marks  the  spot  where 
roken  heart  of  the  hapless  Anne  of  Warwick  found  rest,  from  as 
I  sorrow  as  could  possibly  be  crowded  into  the  brief  span  of  thirty 
rears. 

Qtinuator  of  Crof  land  Chioniole.    '  Root  Chronicls.    *  fiaker^t  Ghraoioia. 


BUD    Of  VOL.    Ill« 


VOL.  111. — 23 


ji 


OCT  1  1  1937 


1  1  1931