Chapter XVII - England Under Edward the Second

by Charles Dickens

　　King Edward the Second, the first Prince of Wales, was twenty-threeyears old when his father died. There was a certain favourite ofhis, a young man from Gascony, named Piers Gaveston, of whom hisfather had so much disapproved that he had ordered him out ofEngland, and had made his son swear by the side of his sick-bed,never to bring him back. But, the Prince no sooner found himselfKing, than he broke his oath, as so many other Princes and Kingsdid (they were far too ready to take oaths), and sent for his dearfriend immediately.

　　Now, this same Gaveston was handsome enough, but was a reckless,insolent, audacious fellow. He was detested by the proud EnglishLords: not only because he had such power over the King, and madethe Court such a dissipated place, but, also, because he could ridebetter than they at tournaments, and was used, in his impudence, tocut very bad jokes on them; calling one, the old hog; another, thestage-player; another, the Jew; another, the black dog of Ardenne.This was as poor wit as need be, but it made those Lords verywroth; and the surly Earl of Warwick, who was the black dog, sworethat the time should come when Piers Gaveston should feel the blackdog's teeth.

　　It was not come yet, however, nor did it seem to be coming. TheKing made him Earl of Cornwall, and gave him vast riches; and, whenthe King went over to France to marry the French Princess,Isabella, daughter of Philip le Bel: who was said to be the mostbeautiful woman in the world: he made Gaveston, Regent of theKingdom. His splendid marriage-ceremony in the Church of Our Ladyat Boulogne, where there were four Kings and three Queens present(quite a pack of Court Cards, for I dare say the Knaves were notwanting), being over, he seemed to care little or nothing for hisbeautiful wife; but was wild with impatience to meet Gavestonagain.

　　When he landed at home, he paid no attention to anybody else, butran into the favourite's arms before a great concourse of people,and hugged him, and kissed him, and called him his brother. At thecoronation which soon followed, Gaveston was the richest andbrightest of all the glittering company there, and had the honourof carrying the crown. This made the proud Lords fiercer thanever; the people, too, despised the favourite, and would never callhim Earl of Cornwall, however much he complained to the King andasked him to punish them for not doing so, but persisted in stylinghim plain Piers Gaveston.

　　The Barons were so unceremonious with the King in giving him tounderstand that they would not bear this favourite, that the Kingwas obliged to send him out of the country. The favourite himselfwas made to take an oath (more oaths!) that he would never comeback, and the Barons supposed him to be banished in disgrace, untilthey heard that he was appointed Governor of Ireland. Even thiswas not enough for the besotted King, who brought him home again ina year's time, and not only disgusted the Court and the people byhis doting folly, but offended his beautiful wife too, who neverliked him afterwards.

　　He had now the old Royal want - of money - and the Barons had thenew power of positively refusing to let him raise any. He summoneda Parliament at York; the Barons refused to make one, while thefavourite was near him. He summoned another Parliament atWestminster, and sent Gaveston away. Then, the Barons came,completely armed, and appointed a committee of themselves tocorrect abuses in the state and in the King's household. He gotsome money on these conditions, and directly set off with Gavestonto the Border-country, where they spent it in idling away the time,and feasting, while Bruce made ready to drive the English out ofScotland. For, though the old King had even made this poor weakson of his swear (as some say) that he would not bury his bones,but would have them boiled clean in a caldron, and carried beforethe English army until Scotland was entirely subdued, the secondEdward was so unlike the first that Bruce gained strength and powerevery day.

　　The committee of Nobles, after some months of deliberation,ordained that the King should henceforth call a Parliamenttogether, once every year, and even twice if necessary, instead ofsummoning it only when he chose. Further, that Gaveston shouldonce more be banished, and, this time, on pain of death if he evercame back. The King's tears were of no avail; he was obliged tosend his favourite to Flanders. As soon as he had done so,however, he dissolved the Parliament, with the low cunning of amere fool, and set off to the North of England, thinking to get anarmy about him to oppose the Nobles. And once again he broughtGaveston home, and heaped upon him all the riches and titles ofwhich the Barons had deprived him.

　　The Lords saw, now, that there was nothing for it but to put thefavourite to death. They could have done so, legally, according tothe terms of his banishment; but they did so, I am sorry to say, ina shabby manner. Led by the Earl of Lancaster, the King's cousin,they first of all attacked the King and Gaveston at Newcastle.They had time to escape by sea, and the mean King, having hisprecious Gaveston with him, was quite content to leave his lovelywife behind. When they were comparatively safe, they separated;the King went to York to collect a force of soldiers; and thefavourite shut himself up, in the meantime, in Scarborough Castleoverlooking the sea. This was what the Barons wanted. They knewthat the Castle could not hold out; they attacked it, and madeGaveston surrender. He delivered himself up to the Earl ofPembroke - that Lord whom he had called the Jew - on the Earl'spledging his faith and knightly word, that no harm should happen tohim and no violence be done him.

　　Now, it was agreed with Gaveston that he should be taken to theCastle of Wallingford, and there kept in honourable custody. Theytravelled as far as Dedington, near Banbury, where, in the Castleof that place, they stopped for a night to rest. Whether the Earlof Pembroke left his prisoner there, knowing what would happen, orreally left him thinking no harm, and only going (as he pretended)to visit his wife, the Countess, who was in the neighbourhood, isno great matter now; in any case, he was bound as an honourablegentleman to protect his prisoner, and he did not do it. In themorning, while the favourite was yet in bed, he was required todress himself and come down into the court-yard. He did so withoutany mistrust, but started and turned pale when he found it full ofstrange armed men. 'I think you know me?' said their leader, alsoarmed from head to foot. 'I am the black dog of Ardenne!' Thetime was come when Piers Gaveston was to feel the black dog's teethindeed. They set him on a mule, and carried him, in mock state andwith military music, to the black dog's kennel - Warwick Castle -where a hasty council, composed of some great noblemen, consideredwhat should be done with him. Some were for sparing him, but oneloud voice - it was the black dog's bark, I dare say - soundedthrough the Castle Hall, uttering these words: 'You have the foxin your power. Let him go now, and you must hunt him again.'

　　They sentenced him to death. He threw himself at the feet of theEarl of Lancaster - the old hog - but the old hog was as savage asthe dog. He was taken out upon the pleasant road, leading fromWarwick to Coventry, where the beautiful river Avon, by which, longafterwards, William Shakespeare was born and now lies buried,sparkled in the bright landscape of the beautiful May-day; andthere they struck off his wretched head, and stained the dust withhis blood.

　　When the King heard of this black deed, in his grief and rage hedenounced relentless war against his Barons, and both sides were inarms for half a year. But, it then became necessary for them tojoin their forces against Bruce, who had used the time well whilethey were divided, and had now a great power in Scotland.

　　Intelligence was brought that Bruce was then besieging StirlingCastle, and that the Governor had been obliged to pledge himself tosurrender it, unless he should be relieved before a certain day.Hereupon, the King ordered the nobles and their fighting-men tomeet him at Berwick; but, the nobles cared so little for the King,and so neglected the summons, and lost time, that only on the daybefore that appointed for the surrender, did the King find himselfat Stirling, and even then with a smaller force than he hadexpected. However, he had, altogether, a hundred thousand men, andBruce had not more than forty thousand; but, Bruce's army wasstrongly posted in three square columns, on the ground lyingbetween the Burn or Brook of Bannock and the walls of StirlingCastle.

　　On the very evening, when the King came up, Bruce did a brave actthat encouraged his men. He was seen by a certain Henry de Bohun,an English Knight, riding about before his army on a little horse,with a light battle-axe in his hand, and a crown of gold on hishead. This English Knight, who was mounted on a strong war-horse,cased in steel, strongly armed, and able (as he thought) tooverthrow Bruce by crushing him with his mere weight, set spurs tohis great charger, rode on him, and made a thrust at him with hisheavy spear. Bruce parried the thrust, and with one blow of hisbattle-axe split his skull.

　　The Scottish men did not forget this, next day when the battleraged. Randolph, Bruce's valiant Nephew, rode, with the small bodyof men he commanded, into such a host of the English, all shiningin polished armour in the sunlight, that they seemed to beswallowed up and lost, as if they had plunged into the sea. But,they fought so well, and did such dreadful execution, that theEnglish staggered. Then came Bruce himself upon them, with all therest of his army. While they were thus hard pressed and amazed,there appeared upon the hills what they supposed to be a newScottish army, but what were really only the camp followers, innumber fifteen thousand: whom Bruce had taught to show themselvesat that place and time. The Earl of Gloucester, commanding theEnglish horse, made a last rush to change the fortune of the day;but Bruce (like Jack the Giant-killer in the story) had had pitsdug in the ground, and covered over with turfs and stakes. Intothese, as they gave way beneath the weight of the horses, ridersand horses rolled by hundreds. The English were completely routed;all their treasure, stores, and engines, were taken by the Scottishmen; so many waggons and other wheeled vehicles were seized, thatit is related that they would have reached, if they had been drawnout in a line, one hundred and eighty miles. The fortunes ofScotland were, for the time, completely changed; and never was abattle won, more famous upon Scottish ground, than this greatbattle of Bannockburn.

　　Plague and famine succeeded in England; and still the powerlessKing and his disdainful Lords were always in contention. Some ofthe turbulent chiefs of Ireland made proposals to Bruce, to acceptthe rule of that country. He sent his brother Edward to them, whowas crowned King of Ireland. He afterwards went himself to helphis brother in his Irish wars, but his brother was defeated in theend and killed. Robert Bruce, returning to Scotland, stillincreased his strength there.

　　As the King's ruin had begun in a favourite, so it seemed likely toend in one. He was too poor a creature to rely at all uponhimself; and his new favourite was one Hugh le Despenser, the sonof a gentleman of ancient family. Hugh was handsome and brave, buthe was the favourite of a weak King, whom no man cared a rush for,and that was a dangerous place to hold. The Nobles leagued againsthim, because the King liked him; and they lay in wait, both for hisruin and his father's. Now, the King had married him to thedaughter of the late Earl of Gloucester, and had given both him andhis father great possessions in Wales. In their endeavours toextend these, they gave violent offence to an angry Welshgentleman, named John de Mowbray, and to divers other angry Welshgentlemen, who resorted to arms, took their castles, and seizedtheir estates. The Earl of Lancaster had first placed thefavourite (who was a poor relation of his own) at Court, and heconsidered his own dignity offended by the preference he receivedand the honours he acquired; so he, and the Barons who were hisfriends, joined the Welshmen, marched on London, and sent a messageto the King demanding to have the favourite and his fatherbanished. At first, the King unaccountably took it into his headto be spirited, and to send them a bold reply; but when theyquartered themselves around Holborn and Clerkenwell, and went down,armed, to the Parliament at Westminster, he gave way, and compliedwith their demands.

　　His turn of triumph came sooner than he expected. It arose out ofan accidental circumstance. The beautiful Queen happening to betravelling, came one night to one of the royal castles, anddemanded to be lodged and entertained there until morning. Thegovernor of this castle, who was one of the enraged lords, wasaway, and in his absence, his wife refused admission to the Queen;a scuffle took place among the common men on either side, and someof the royal attendants were killed. The people, who cared nothingfor the King, were very angry that their beautiful Queen should bethus rudely treated in her own dominions; and the King, takingadvantage of this feeling, besieged the castle, took it, and thencalled the two Despensers home. Upon this, the confederate lordsand the Welshmen went over to Bruce. The King encountered them atBoroughbridge, gained the victory, and took a number ofdistinguished prisoners; among them, the Earl of Lancaster, now anold man, upon whose destruction he was resolved. This Earl wastaken to his own castle of Pontefract, and there tried and foundguilty by an unfair court appointed for the purpose; he was noteven allowed to speak in his own defence. He was insulted, pelted,mounted on a starved pony without saddle or bridle, carried out,and beheaded. Eight-and-twenty knights were hanged, drawn, andquartered. When the King had despatched this bloody work, and hadmade a fresh and a long truce with Bruce, he took the Despensersinto greater favour than ever, and made the father Earl ofWinchester.

　　One prisoner, and an important one, who was taken at Boroughbridge,made his escape, however, and turned the tide against the King.This was Roger Mortimer, always resolutely opposed to him, who wassentenced to death, and placed for safe custody in the Tower ofLondon. He treated his guards to a quantity of wine into which hehad put a sleeping potion; and, when they were insensible, brokeout of his dungeon, got into a kitchen, climbed up the chimney, lethimself down from the roof of the building with a rope-ladder,passed the sentries, got down to the river, and made away in a boatto where servants and horses were waiting for him. He finallyescaped to France, where Charles le Bel, the brother of thebeautiful Queen, was King. Charles sought to quarrel with the Kingof England, on pretence of his not having come to do him homage athis coronation. It was proposed that the beautiful Queen should goover to arrange the dispute; she went, and wrote home to the King,that as he was sick and could not come to France himself, perhapsit would be better to send over the young Prince, their son, whowas only twelve years old, who could do homage to her brother inhis stead, and in whose company she would immediately return. TheKing sent him: but, both he and the Queen remained at the FrenchCourt, and Roger Mortimer became the Queen's lover.

　　When the King wrote, again and again, to the Queen to come home,she did not reply that she despised him too much to live with himany more (which was the truth), but said she was afraid of the twoDespensers. In short, her design was to overthrow the favourites'power, and the King's power, such as it was, and invade England.Having obtained a French force of two thousand men, and beingjoined by all the English exiles then in France, she landed, withina year, at Orewell, in Suffolk, where she was immediately joined bythe Earls of Kent and Norfolk, the King's two brothers; by otherpowerful noblemen; and lastly, by the first English general who wasdespatched to check her: who went over to her with all his men.The people of London, receiving these tidings, would do nothing forthe King, but broke open the Tower, let out all his prisoners, andthrew up their caps and hurrahed for the beautiful Queen.

　　The King, with his two favourites, fled to Bristol, where he leftold Despenser in charge of the town and castle, while he went onwith the son to Wales. The Bristol men being opposed to the King,and it being impossible to hold the town with enemies everywherewithin the walls, Despenser yielded it up on the third day, and wasinstantly brought to trial for having traitorously influenced whatwas called 'the King's mind' - though I doubt if the King ever hadany. He was a venerable old man, upwards of ninety years of age,but his age gained no respect or mercy. He was hanged, torn openwhile he was yet alive, cut up into pieces, and thrown to the dogs.His son was soon taken, tried at Hereford before the same judge ona long series of foolish charges, found guilty, and hanged upon agallows fifty feet high, with a chaplet of nettles round his head.His poor old father and he were innocent enough of any worse crimesthan the crime of having been friends of a King, on whom, as a mereman, they would never have deigned to cast a favourable look. Itis a bad crime, I know, and leads to worse; but, many lords andgentlemen - I even think some ladies, too, if I recollect right -have committed it in England, who have neither been given to thedogs, nor hanged up fifty feet high.

　　The wretched King was running here and there, all this time, andnever getting anywhere in particular, until he gave himself up, andwas taken off to Kenilworth Castle. When he was safely lodgedthere, the Queen went to London and met the Parliament. And theBishop of Hereford, who was the most skilful of her friends, said,What was to be done now? Here was an imbecile, indolent, miserableKing upon the throne; wouldn't it be better to take him off, andput his son there instead? I don't know whether the Queen reallypitied him at this pass, but she began to cry; so, the Bishop said,Well, my Lords and Gentlemen, what do you think, upon the whole, ofsending down to Kenilworth, and seeing if His Majesty (God blesshim, and forbid we should depose him!) won't resign?

　　My Lords and Gentlemen thought it a good notion, so a deputation ofthem went down to Kenilworth; and there the King came into thegreat hall of the Castle, commonly dressed in a poor black gown;and when he saw a certain bishop among them, fell down, poorfeeble-headed man, and made a wretched spectacle of himself.Somebody lifted him up, and then Sir William Trussel, the Speakerof the House of Commons, almost frightened him to death by makinghim a tremendous speech to the effect that he was no longer a King,and that everybody renounced allegiance to him. After which, SirThomas Blount, the Steward of the Household, nearly finished him,by coming forward and breaking his white wand - which was aceremony only performed at a King's death. Being asked in thispressing manner what he thought of resigning, the King said hethought it was the best thing he could do. So, he did it, and theyproclaimed his son next day.

　　I wish I could close his history by saying that he lived a harmlesslife in the Castle and the Castle gardens at Kenilworth, many years- that he had a favourite, and plenty to eat and drink - and,having that, wanted nothing. But he was shamefully humiliated. Hewas outraged, and slighted, and had dirty water from ditches givenhim to shave with, and wept and said he would have clean warmwater, and was altogether very miserable. He was moved from thiscastle to that castle, and from that castle to the other castle,because this lord or that lord, or the other lord, was too kind tohim: until at last he came to Berkeley Castle, near the RiverSevern, where (the Lord Berkeley being then ill and absent) he fellinto the hands of two black ruffians, called Thomas Gournay andWilliam Ogle.

　　One night - it was the night of September the twenty-first, onethousand three hundred and twenty-seven - dreadful screams wereheard, by the startled people in the neighbouring town, ringingthrough the thick walls of the Castle, and the dark, deep night;and they said, as they were thus horribly awakened from theirsleep, 'May Heaven be merciful to the King; for those cries forbodethat no good is being done to him in his dismal prison!' Nextmorning he was dead - not bruised, or stabbed, or marked upon thebody, but much distorted in the face; and it was whisperedafterwards, that those two villains, Gournay and Ogle, had burnt uphis inside with a red-hot iron.

　　If you ever come near Gloucester, and see the centre tower of itsbeautiful Cathedral, with its four rich pinnacles, rising lightlyin the air; you may remember that the wretched Edward the Secondwas buried in the old abbey of that ancient city, at forty-threeyears old, after being for nineteen years and a half a perfectlyincapable King.