Chapter XV - England Under Henry the Third, Called, of Winchester

by Charles Dickens

　　If any of the English Barons remembered the murdered Arthur'ssister, Eleanor the fair maid of Brittany, shut up in her conventat Bristol, none among them spoke of her now, or maintained herright to the Crown. The dead Usurper's eldest boy, Henry by name,was taken by the Earl of Pembroke, the Marshal of England, to thecity of Gloucester, and there crowned in great haste when he wasonly ten years old. As the Crown itself had been lost with theKing's treasure in the raging water, and as there was no time tomake another, they put a circle of plain gold upon his headinstead. 'We have been the enemies of this child's father,' saidLord Pembroke, a good and true gentleman, to the few Lords who werepresent, 'and he merited our ill-will; but the child himself isinnocent, and his youth demands our friendship and protection.'Those Lords felt tenderly towards the little boy, remembering theirown young children; and they bowed their heads, and said, 'Longlive King Henry the Third!'

　　Next, a great council met at Bristol, revised Magna Charta, andmade Lord Pembroke Regent or Protector of England, as the King wastoo young to reign alone. The next thing to be done, was to getrid of Prince Louis of France, and to win over those English Baronswho were still ranged under his banner. He was strong in manyparts of England, and in London itself; and he held, among otherplaces, a certain Castle called the Castle of Mount Sorel, inLeicestershire. To this fortress, after some skirmishing andtruce-making, Lord Pembroke laid siege. Louis despatched an armyof six hundred knights and twenty thousand soldiers to relieve it.Lord Pembroke, who was not strong enough for such a force, retiredwith all his men. The army of the French Prince, which had marchedthere with fire and plunder, marched away with fire and plunder,and came, in a boastful swaggering manner, to Lincoln. The townsubmitted; but the Castle in the town, held by a brave widow lady,named Nichola de Camville (whose property it was), made such asturdy resistance, that the French Count in command of the army ofthe French Prince found it necessary to besiege this Castle. Whilehe was thus engaged, word was brought to him that Lord Pembroke,with four hundred knights, two hundred and fifty men with cross-bows, and a stout force both of horse and foot, was marchingtowards him. 'What care I?' said the French Count. 'TheEnglishman is not so mad as to attack me and my great army in awalled town!' But the Englishman did it for all that, and did it -not so madly but so wisely, that he decoyed the great army into thenarrow, ill-paved lanes and byways of Lincoln, where its horse-soldiers could not ride in any strong body; and there he made suchhavoc with them, that the whole force surrendered themselvesprisoners, except the Count; who said that he would never yield toany English traitor alive, and accordingly got killed. The end ofthis victory, which the English called, for a joke, the Fair ofLincoln, was the usual one in those times - the common men wereslain without any mercy, and the knights and gentlemen paid ransomand went home.

　　The wife of Louis, the fair Blanche of Castile, dutifully equippeda fleet of eighty good ships, and sent it over from France to herhusband's aid. An English fleet of forty ships, some good and somebad, gallantly met them near the mouth of the Thames, and took orsunk sixty-five in one fight. This great loss put an end to theFrench Prince's hopes. A treaty was made at Lambeth, in virtue ofwhich the English Barons who had remained attached to his causereturned to their allegiance, and it was engaged on both sides thatthe Prince and all his troops should retire peacefully to France.It was time to go; for war had made him so poor that he was obligedto borrow money from the citizens of London to pay his expenseshome.

　　Lord Pembroke afterwards applied himself to governing the countryjustly, and to healing the quarrels and disturbances that hadarisen among men in the days of the bad King John. He caused MagnaCharta to be still more improved, and so amended the Forest Lawsthat a Peasant was no longer put to death for killing a stag in aRoyal Forest, but was only imprisoned. It would have been well forEngland if it could have had so good a Protector many years longer,but that was not to be. Within three years after the young King'sCoronation, Lord Pembroke died; and you may see his tomb, at thisday, in the old Temple Church in London.

　　The Protectorship was now divided. Peter de Roches, whom King Johnhad made Bishop of Winchester, was entrusted with the care of theperson of the young sovereign; and the exercise of the Royalauthority was confided to Earl Hubert de Burgh. These twopersonages had from the first no liking for each other, and soonbecame enemies. When the young King was declared of age, Peter deRoches, finding that Hubert increased in power and favour, retireddiscontentedly, and went abroad. For nearly ten years afterwardsHubert had full sway alone.

　　But ten years is a long time to hold the favour of a King. ThisKing, too, as he grew up, showed a strong resemblance to hisfather, in feebleness, inconsistency, and irresolution. The bestthat can be said of him is that he was not cruel. De Roches cominghome again, after ten years, and being a novelty, the King began tofavour him and to look coldly on Hubert. Wanting money besides,and having made Hubert rich, he began to dislike Hubert. At lasthe was made to believe, or pretended to believe, that Hubert hadmisappropriated some of the Royal treasure; and ordered him tofurnish an account of all he had done in his administration.Besides which, the foolish charge was brought against Hubert thathe had made himself the King's favourite by magic. Hubert verywell knowing that he could never defend himself against suchnonsense, and that his old enemy must be determined on his ruin,instead of answering the charges fled to Merton Abbey. Then theKing, in a violent passion, sent for the Mayor of London, and saidto the Mayor, 'Take twenty thousand citizens, and drag me Hubert deBurgh out of that abbey, and bring him here.' The Mayor posted offto do it, but the Archbishop of Dublin (who was a friend ofHubert's) warning the King that an abbey was a sacred place, andthat if he committed any violence there, he must answer for it tothe Church, the King changed his mind and called the Mayor back,and declared that Hubert should have four months to prepare hisdefence, and should be safe and free during that time.

　　Hubert, who relied upon the King's word, though I think he was oldenough to have known better, came out of Merton Abbey upon theseconditions, and journeyed away to see his wife: a ScottishPrincess who was then at St. Edmund's-Bury.

　　Almost as soon as he had departed from the Sanctuary, his enemiespersuaded the weak King to send out one Sir Godfrey de Crancumb,who commanded three hundred vagabonds called the Black Band, withorders to seize him. They came up with him at a little town inEssex, called Brentwood, when he was in bed. He leaped out of bed,got out of the house, fled to the church, ran up to the altar, andlaid his hand upon the cross. Sir Godfrey and the Black Band,caring neither for church, altar, nor cross, dragged him forth tothe church door, with their drawn swords flashing round his head,and sent for a Smith to rivet a set of chains upon him. When theSmith (I wish I knew his name!) was brought, all dark and swarthywith the smoke of his forge, and panting with the speed he hadmade; and the Black Band, falling aside to show him the Prisoner,cried with a loud uproar, 'Make the fetters heavy! make themstrong!' the Smith dropped upon his knee - but not to the BlackBand - and said, 'This is the brave Earl Hubert de Burgh, whofought at Dover Castle, and destroyed the French fleet, and hasdone his country much good service. You may kill me, if you like,but I will never make a chain for Earl Hubert de Burgh!'

　　The Black Band never blushed, or they might have blushed at this.They knocked the Smith about from one to another, and swore at him,and tied the Earl on horseback, undressed as he was, and carriedhim off to the Tower of London. The Bishops, however, were soindignant at the violation of the Sanctuary of the Church, that thefrightened King soon ordered the Black Band to take him back again;at the same time commanding the Sheriff of Essex to prevent hisescaping out of Brentwood Church. Well! the Sheriff dug a deeptrench all round the church, and erected a high fence, and watchedthe church night and day; the Black Band and their Captain watchedit too, like three hundred and one black wolves. For thirty-ninedays, Hubert de Burgh remained within. At length, upon thefortieth day, cold and hunger were too much for him, and he gavehimself up to the Black Band, who carried him off, for the secondtime, to the Tower. When his trial came on, he refused to plead;but at last it was arranged that he should give up all the royallands which had been bestowed upon him, and should be kept at theCastle of Devizes, in what was called 'free prison,' in charge offour knights appointed by four lords. There, he remained almost ayear, until, learning that a follower of his old enemy the Bishopwas made Keeper of the Castle, and fearing that he might be killedby treachery, he climbed the ramparts one dark night, dropped fromthe top of the high Castle wall into the moat, and coming safely tothe ground, took refuge in another church. From this place he wasdelivered by a party of horse despatched to his help by somenobles, who were by this time in revolt against the King, andassembled in Wales. He was finally pardoned and restored to hisestates, but he lived privately, and never more aspired to a highpost in the realm, or to a high place in the King's favour. Andthus end - more happily than the stories of many favourites ofKings - the adventures of Earl Hubert de Burgh.

　　The nobles, who had risen in revolt, were stirred up to rebellionby the overbearing conduct of the Bishop of Winchester, who,finding that the King secretly hated the Great Charter which hadbeen forced from his father, did his utmost to confirm him in thatdislike, and in the preference he showed to foreigners over theEnglish. Of this, and of his even publicly declaring that theBarons of England were inferior to those of France, the EnglishLords complained with such bitterness, that the King, finding themwell supported by the clergy, became frightened for his throne, andsent away the Bishop and all his foreign associates. On hismarriage, however, with Eleanor, a French lady, the daughter of theCount of Provence, he openly favoured the foreigners again; and somany of his wife's relations came over, and made such an immensefamily-party at court, and got so many good things, and pocketed somuch money, and were so high with the English whose money theypocketed, that the bolder English Barons murmured openly about aclause there was in the Great Charter, which provided for thebanishment of unreasonable favourites. But, the foreigners onlylaughed disdainfully, and said, 'What are your English laws to us?'

　　King Philip of France had died, and had been succeeded by PrinceLouis, who had also died after a short reign of three years, andhad been succeeded by his son of the same name - so moderate andjust a man that he was not the least in the world like a King, asKings went. Isabella, King Henry's mother, wished very much (for acertain spite she had) that England should make war against thisKing; and, as King Henry was a mere puppet in anybody's hands whoknew how to manage his feebleness, she easily carried her pointwith him. But, the Parliament were determined to give him no moneyfor such a war. So, to defy the Parliament, he packed up thirtylarge casks of silver - I don't know how he got so much; I dare sayhe screwed it out of the miserable Jews - and put them aboard ship,and went away himself to carry war into France: accompanied by hismother and his brother Richard, Earl of Cornwall, who was rich andclever. But he only got well beaten, and came home.

　　The good-humour of the Parliament was not restored by this. Theyreproached the King with wasting the public money to make greedyforeigners rich, and were so stern with him, and so determined notto let him have more of it to waste if they could help it, that hewas at his wit's end for some, and tried so shamelessly to get allhe could from his subjects, by excuses or by force, that the peopleused to say the King was the sturdiest beggar in England. He tookthe Cross, thinking to get some money by that means; but, as it wasvery well known that he never meant to go on a crusade, he gotnone. In all this contention, the Londoners were particularly keenagainst the King, and the King hated them warmly in return. Hatingor loving, however, made no difference; he continued in the samecondition for nine or ten years, when at last the Barons said thatif he would solemnly confirm their liberties afresh, the Parliamentwould vote him a large sum.

　　As he readily consented, there was a great meeting held inWestminster Hall, one pleasant day in May, when all the clergy,dressed in their robes and holding every one of them a burningcandle in his hand, stood up (the Barons being also there) whilethe Archbishop of Canterbury read the sentence of excommunicationagainst any man, and all men, who should henceforth, in any way,infringe the Great Charter of the Kingdom. When he had done, theyall put out their burning candles with a curse upon the soul of anyone, and every one, who should merit that sentence. The Kingconcluded with an oath to keep the Charter, 'As I am a man, as I ama Christian, as I am a Knight, as I am a King!'

　　It was easy to make oaths, and easy to break them; and the King didboth, as his father had done before him. He took to his oldcourses again when he was supplied with money, and soon cured oftheir weakness the few who had ever really trusted him. When hismoney was gone, and he was once more borrowing and beggingeverywhere with a meanness worthy of his nature, he got into adifficulty with the Pope respecting the Crown of Sicily, which thePope said he had a right to give away, and which he offered to KingHenry for his second son, Prince Edmund. But, if you or I giveaway what we have not got, and what belongs to somebody else, it islikely that the person to whom we give it, will have some troublein taking it. It was exactly so in this case. It was necessary toconquer the Sicilian Crown before it could be put upon youngEdmund's head. It could not be conquered without money. The Popeordered the clergy to raise money. The clergy, however, were notso obedient to him as usual; they had been disputing with him forsome time about his unjust preference of Italian Priests inEngland; and they had begun to doubt whether the King's chaplain,whom he allowed to be paid for preaching in seven hundred churches,could possibly be, even by the Pope's favour, in seven hundredplaces at once. 'The Pope and the King together,' said the Bishopof London, 'may take the mitre off my head; but, if they do, theywill find that I shall put on a soldier's helmet. I pay nothing.'The Bishop of Worcester was as bold as the Bishop of London, andwould pay nothing either. Such sums as the more timid or morehelpless of the clergy did raise were squandered away, withoutdoing any good to the King, or bringing the Sicilian Crown an inchnearer to Prince Edmund's head. The end of the business was, thatthe Pope gave the Crown to the brother of the King of France (whoconquered it for himself), and sent the King of England in, a billof one hundred thousand pounds for the expenses of not having wonit.

　　The King was now so much distressed that we might almost pity him,if it were possible to pity a King so shabby and ridiculous. Hisclever brother, Richard, had bought the title of King of the Romansfrom the German people, and was no longer near him, to help himwith advice. The clergy, resisting the very Pope, were in alliancewith the Barons. The Barons were headed by Simon de Montfort, Earlof Leicester, married to King Henry's sister, and, though aforeigner himself, the most popular man in England against theforeign favourites. When the King next met his Parliament, theBarons, led by this Earl, came before him, armed from head to foot,and cased in armour. When the Parliament again assembled, in amonth's time, at Oxford, this Earl was at their head, and the Kingwas obliged to consent, on oath, to what was called a Committee ofGovernment: consisting of twenty-four members: twelve chosen bythe Barons, and twelve chosen by himself.

　　But, at a good time for him, his brother Richard came back.Richard's first act (the Barons would not admit him into England onother terms) was to swear to be faithful to the Committee ofGovernment - which he immediately began to oppose with all hismight. Then, the Barons began to quarrel among themselves;especially the proud Earl of Gloucester with the Earl of Leicester,who went abroad in disgust. Then, the people began to bedissatisfied with the Barons, because they did not do enough forthem. The King's chances seemed so good again at length, that hetook heart enough - or caught it from his brother - to tell theCommittee of Government that he abolished them - as to his oath,never mind that, the Pope said! - and to seize all the money in theMint, and to shut himself up in the Tower of London. Here he wasjoined by his eldest son, Prince Edward; and, from the Tower, hemade public a letter of the Pope's to the world in general,informing all men that he had been an excellent and just King forfive-and-forty years.

　　As everybody knew he had been nothing of the sort, nobody caredmuch for this document. It so chanced that the proud Earl ofGloucester dying, was succeeded by his son; and that his son,instead of being the enemy of the Earl of Leicester, was (for thetime) his friend. It fell out, therefore, that these two Earlsjoined their forces, took several of the Royal Castles in thecountry, and advanced as hard as they could on London. The Londonpeople, always opposed to the King, declared for them with greatjoy. The King himself remained shut up, not at all gloriously, inthe Tower. Prince Edward made the best of his way to WindsorCastle. His mother, the Queen, attempted to follow him by water;but, the people seeing her barge rowing up the river, and hatingher with all their hearts, ran to London Bridge, got together aquantity of stones and mud, and pelted the barge as it camethrough, crying furiously, 'Drown the Witch! Drown her!' Theywere so near doing it, that the Mayor took the old lady under hisprotection, and shut her up in St. Paul's until the danger waspast.

　　It would require a great deal of writing on my part, and a greatdeal of reading on yours, to follow the King through his disputeswith the Barons, and to follow the Barons through their disputeswith one another - so I will make short work of it for both of us,and only relate the chief events that arose out of these quarrels.The good King of France was asked to decide between them. He gaveit as his opinion that the King must maintain the Great Charter,and that the Barons must give up the Committee of Government, andall the rest that had been done by the Parliament at Oxford: whichthe Royalists, or King's party, scornfully called the MadParliament. The Barons declared that these were not fair terms,and they would not accept them. Then they caused the great bell ofSt. Paul's to be tolled, for the purpose of rousing up the Londonpeople, who armed themselves at the dismal sound and formed quitean army in the streets. I am sorry to say, however, that insteadof falling upon the King's party with whom their quarrel was, theyfell upon the miserable Jews, and killed at least five hundred ofthem. They pretended that some of these Jews were on the King'sside, and that they kept hidden in their houses, for thedestruction of the people, a certain terrible composition calledGreek Fire, which could not be put out with water, but only burntthe fiercer for it. What they really did keep in their houses wasmoney; and this their cruel enemies wanted, and this their cruelenemies took, like robbers and murderers.

　　The Earl of Leicester put himself at the head of these Londonersand other forces, and followed the King to Lewes in Sussex, wherehe lay encamped with his army. Before giving the King's forcesbattle here, the Earl addressed his soldiers, and said that KingHenry the Third had broken so many oaths, that he had become theenemy of God, and therefore they would wear white crosses on theirbreasts, as if they were arrayed, not against a fellow-Christian,but against a Turk. White-crossed accordingly, they rushed intothe fight. They would have lost the day - the King having on hisside all the foreigners in England: and, from Scotland, JohnComyn, John Baliol, and Robert Bruce, with all their men - but forthe impatience of Prince Edward, who, in his hot desire to havevengeance on the people of London, threw the whole of his father'sarmy into confusion. He was taken Prisoner; so was the King; sowas the King's brother the King of the Romans; and five thousandEnglishmen were left dead upon the bloody grass.

　　For this success, the Pope excommunicated the Earl of Leicester:which neither the Earl nor the people cared at all about. Thepeople loved him and supported him, and he became the real King;having all the power of the government in his own hands, though hewas outwardly respectful to King Henry the Third, whom he took withhim wherever he went, like a poor old limp court-card. He summoneda Parliament (in the year one thousand two hundred and sixty-five)which was the first Parliament in England that the people had anyreal share in electing; and he grew more and more in favour withthe people every day, and they stood by him in whatever he did.

　　Many of the other Barons, and particularly the Earl of Gloucester,who had become by this time as proud as his father, grew jealous ofthis powerful and popular Earl, who was proud too, and began toconspire against him. Since the battle of Lewes, Prince Edward hadbeen kept as a hostage, and, though he was otherwise treated like aPrince, had never been allowed to go out without attendantsappointed by the Earl of Leicester, who watched him. Theconspiring Lords found means to propose to him, in secret, thatthey should assist him to escape, and should make him their leader;to which he very heartily consented.

　　So, on a day that was agreed upon, he said to his attendants afterdinner (being then at Hereford), 'I should like to ride onhorseback, this fine afternoon, a little way into the country.' Asthey, too, thought it would be very pleasant to have a canter inthe sunshine, they all rode out of the town together in a gaylittle troop. When they came to a fine level piece of turf, thePrince fell to comparing their horses one with another, andoffering bets that one was faster than another; and the attendants,suspecting no harm, rode galloping matches until their horses werequite tired. The Prince rode no matches himself, but looked onfrom his saddle, and staked his money. Thus they passed the wholemerry afternoon. Now, the sun was setting, and they were all goingslowly up a hill, the Prince's horse very fresh and all the otherhorses very weary, when a strange rider mounted on a grey steedappeared at the top of the hill, and waved his hat. 'What does thefellow mean?' said the attendants one to another. The Princeanswered on the instant by setting spurs to his horse, dashing awayat his utmost speed, joining the man, riding into the midst of alittle crowd of horsemen who were then seen waiting under sometrees, and who closed around him; and so he departed in a cloud ofdust, leaving the road empty of all but the baffled attendants, whosat looking at one another, while their horses drooped their earsand panted.

　　The Prince joined the Earl of Gloucester at Ludlow. The Earl ofLeicester, with a part of the army and the stupid old King, was atHereford. One of the Earl of Leicester's sons, Simon de Montfort,with another part of the army, was in Sussex. To prevent these twoparts from uniting was the Prince's first object. He attackedSimon de Montfort by night, defeated him, seized his banners andtreasure, and forced him into Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire,which belonged to his family.

　　His father, the Earl of Leicester, in the meanwhile, not knowingwhat had happened, marched out of Hereford, with his part of thearmy and the King, to meet him. He came, on a bright morning inAugust, to Evesham, which is watered by the pleasant river Avon.Looking rather anxiously across the prospect towards Kenilworth, hesaw his own banners advancing; and his face brightened with joy.But, it clouded darkly when he presently perceived that the bannerswere captured, and in the enemy's hands; and he said, 'It is over.The Lord have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are PrinceEdward's!'

　　He fought like a true Knight, nevertheless. When his horse waskilled under him, he fought on foot. It was a fierce battle, andthe dead lay in heaps everywhere. The old King, stuck up in a suitof armour on a big war-horse, which didn't mind him at all, andwhich carried him into all sorts of places where he didn't want togo, got into everybody's way, and very nearly got knocked on thehead by one of his son's men. But he managed to pipe out, 'I amHarry of Winchester!' and the Prince, who heard him, seized hisbridle, and took him out of peril. The Earl of Leicester stillfought bravely, until his best son Henry was killed, and the bodiesof his best friends choked his path; and then he fell, stillfighting, sword in hand. They mangled his body, and sent it as apresent to a noble lady - but a very unpleasant lady, I shouldthink - who was the wife of his worst enemy. They could not manglehis memory in the minds of the faithful people, though. Many yearsafterwards, they loved him more than ever, and regarded him as aSaint, and always spoke of him as 'Sir Simon the Righteous.'

　　And even though he was dead, the cause for which he had foughtstill lived, and was strong, and forced itself upon the King in thevery hour of victory. Henry found himself obliged to respect theGreat Charter, however much he hated it, and to make laws similarto the laws of the Great Earl of Leicester, and to be moderate andforgiving towards the people at last - even towards the people ofLondon, who had so long opposed him. There were more risingsbefore all this was done, but they were set at rest by these means,and Prince Edward did his best in all things to restore peace. OneSir Adam de Gourdon was the last dissatisfied knight in arms; but,the Prince vanquished him in single combat, in a wood, and noblygave him his life, and became his friend, instead of slaying him.Sir Adam was not ungrateful. He ever afterwards remained devotedto his generous conqueror.

　　When the troubles of the Kingdom were thus calmed, Prince Edwardand his cousin Henry took the Cross, and went away to the HolyLand, with many English Lords and Knights. Four years afterwardsthe King of the Romans died, and, next year (one thousand twohundred and seventy-two), his brother the weak King of Englanddied. He was sixty-eight years old then, and had reigned fifty-sixyears. He was as much of a King in death, as he had ever been inlife. He was the mere pale shadow of a King at all times.