the castle of Bristol, under the command of the elder Spenser; but they mutinied against their governor, and that unfortunate favourite was delivered up, and condemned by the tumultuous barons to the most ignominious death. He was hanged on a gibbet in his armour, his body was cut in pieces, and thrown to the dogs, and his head was sent to Winchester, where it was set on a pole, and exposed to the insults of the populace.

Young Spenser, the unhappy son, did not long survive the father; he was taken with some others who had followed the fortunes of the wretched king, in an obscure convent in Wales, and the merciless victors resolved to glut their revenge, in adding insult to cruelty. The queen had not patience to wait the formality of a trial; but ordered him immediately to be led forth before the insulting populace, and seemed to take a savage pleasure in feasting her eyes with his distresses. The gibbet erected for his execution was fifty feet high; his head was sent to London, where the citizens received it in brutal triumph, and fixed it on the bridge. Several other lords also shared his fate; all deserving pity indeed, had they not themselves formerly justified the present inhumanity by setting a cruel example.

In the meantime the king, who hoped to find refuge in Wales, was quickly discovered, and delivered up to his adversaries, who expressed their satisfaction in the grossness of their treatment. He was conducted to the capital amidst the insults and reproaches of the people, and confined in the tower. A charge was soon after exhibited against him; in which his incapacity to govern, his indolence, his love of pleasure, and his being swayed by evil counsellors, were objected against him. His deposition was quickly voted by parliament: he was assigned a pension for his support, his son Edward, a youth of fourteen, was fixed upon to succeed him, and the queen was appointed regent during the minority.

1327.

The deposed monarch but a short time survived his A. D. misfortunes; he was sent from prison to prison, a wretched outcast, and the sport of his inhuman keepers. He had been at first consigned to the custody of the earl of Lancaster; but this nobleman shewing some marks of respect and pity, he was taken out of his hands, and deli vered over to lords Berkeley, Montravers, and Gournay, who were entrusted with the charge of guarding him month about. Whatever his treatment from lord Berkeley might have been, the other two seemed resolved that he should enjoy none of the comforts of life, while in their custody. They practised every kind of indignity upon him, as if their design had been to accelerate his death by the bitterness of his sufferings. A

mong other acts of brutal oppression, it is said, that they shaved him for sport in the open fields, using water from a neighbouring ditch. He is said to have borne his former indignities with patience, but all fortitude forsook him upon this occasion; he looked upon his merciless insulters with an air of fallen majesty, and bursting into tears exclaimed, that the time might come, when he would be more decently attended. This, however, was but a vain expectation. As his persecutors saw that his death might not arrive, even under every cruelty, till a revolution had been made in his favour, they resolved to rid themselves of their fears, by destroying him at once. Accordingly, his two keepers, Gournay and Montravers, came to Berkeley castle, where Edward was then confined; and having concerted a method of putting him to death without any external violence, they threw him on a bed, holding him by a table, which they had placed over him. They then ran a horn pipe up his body, through which they conveyed a red-hot iron; and thus burnt his bowels, without disfiguring his body. By this cruel artifice, they expected to have their crime concealed; but his horrid shrieks, which were heard at a distance from the castle, gave a suspicion of the murder; and the whole was soon after divulged by the confession of one of the accomplices. Misfortunes like his must ever create pity; and a punishment so disproportionate to the sufferer's guilt, must wipe away even many of those faults of which Edward was undoubtedly culpable.

CHAP. XIV.

EDWARD III.

A. D. 1327-1377.

HE parliament, by which young Edward was raised to the throne during the life of his father, appointed twelve persons as his privy council, to direct the operations of his government. Mortimer, the queen's paramour, who might naturally be set down as one of the members, artfully excluded himself, under a pretended show of moderation; but at the same time he secretly influenced all the measures that came under their deliberation. He caused the greatest of the royal revenues to be settled on the queen dowager, and he scidom took the trouble to consult the ministers of government in any public undertaking. The king himself was so besieged by the favourite's creatures, that no access could be procured to him, and the whole sovereign authority was shared

between Mortimer and the queen, who took no care to con ceal her criminal attachment.

At length, however, Edward was resolved to shake off an authority that was odious to the nation, and particularly restrictive upon him. But such was the power of the favourite, that it required as much precaution to overturn the usurper, as to establish the throne. The queen and Mortimer had for some time chosen the castle of Nottingham for the place of their residence; it was strictly guarded, the gates locked every evening, and the keys carried to the queen. It was therefore agreed between the king and some of his barons, who secretly entered into his designs, to seize upon them in the fortress; and for that purpose, Sir William Eland, the governor, was induced to admit them by a secret subterraneous passage, which had been formerly contrived for an outlet, but was now hidden with rubbish, and known only to one or two. It was by this, therefore, the noblemen in the king's interest entered the castle in the night; and Mortimer, with out having it in his power to make any resistance, was seized in an apartment adjoining that of the queen's. It was in vain that she endeavoured to protect him; in vain she intreated them to spare her "gentle Mortimer;" the barons, deaf to her entreaties, denied her that pity which he had so often refused to others. Her paramour was condemned by the parliament, which was then sitting, without being permitted to make his defence, or even examining a witness against him. He was hanged on a gibbet at a place called Elmes, about a mile from London, where his body was left hanging for two days after. The queen, who was certainly the most culpable, was shielded by the dignity of her situation; she was only discarded from all share of power, and confined for life to the castle of Risings, with a pension of three thousand pounds a year. From this confinement she was never after set free; and though the king annually paid her a visit of decent ceremony, yet she found herself abandoned to universal contempt and detestation; and continued for above twentyfive years after, a miserable monument of blighted ambition.

In order still more to secure the people's affections, Edward made a successful irruption into Scotland, in which, in one battle fought at Hallidown-hill, above thirty thousand of the Scotch were slain. Soon after he turned his arms against France, which was at that time particularly unfortunate. The three sons of Philip the Fair, in full parliament, accused their wives of adultery; and, in consequence of this accusation, they were condemned and imprisoned for life.-Lewis Hutin, successor to the crown of France, caused his wife to be

G

strangled, and her lovers to be flayed alive. After his death, as he left only a daughter, his next brother, Philip the Tall, assumed the crown, in her prejudice; and vindicated his title by the Salic law, which ordered, that no female should succeed to the crown. Edward, however urged his pretensions, as being by his mother Isabella, who was daughter to Philip the Fair, and sister to the three last kings of France, rightful heir to the crown. But he first, in a formal manner, consulted his parliament on the propriety of the undertaking, obtained their approbation, received a proper supply of wool, which he intended to barter with the Flemings; and being attended with a body of English forces, and several of his nobility, he sailed over into Flanders, big with his intended conquests. The first great advantage he gained, was in a naval engagement on the coast of Flanders, in which the French lost two hundred and thirty ships, and had thirty thousand of their seamen, and two of their admirals slain.

The intelligence of Edward's landing, and the devastation caused by his troops, who dispersed themselves over the whole face of the country, soon spread universal consternation through the French court. Caen was taken and plundered by the English, without mercy; the villages and towns, even up to Paris, shared the same fate; and the French had no other resource but by breaking down their bridges, to attempt putting a stop to the invader's career. Philip, then king of France, was not idle in making preparations to repress the enemy. He had stationed one of his generals, Godemar de Faye, with an army on the opposite side of the river Somme, over which Edward was to pass; while he himself, at the head of a hundred thousand fighting men, advanced to give the English battle.

As both armies had for some time been in sight of each other, nothing was so eagerly expected on each side as a battle; and although the forces were extremely disproportioned, the English amounting only to thirty thousand, the French to a hundred and twenty thousand, yet Edward resolved to indulge the impetuosity of his troops, and put all to the hazard of a battle. He accordingly chose his ground with advantage near the village of Crecy, and there determined to wait with tranquillity the shock of the enemy. He drew up his men on a gentle ascent, and divided them into three lines. The first was commanded by the young prince of Wales; the second was conducted by the earls of Northampton and Arundel; and the third, which was kept as a body of reserve, was headed by the king in person.

On the other side, Philip, impelled by resentment, and con

fident of his numbers, was more solicitous in bringing the enemy to an engagement than prudent in taking measures for its success. He led on his army in three bodies opposite to those of the English. The first line consisted of fifteen thousand Genoese cross-bowmen; the second body was led by the king of France's brother; and he himself was at the head of the third.

About three in the afternoon, the famous battle of Crecy began, by the French king's ordering the Genoese archers to charge; but they were so fatigued with their march, that they cried out for a little rest before they should engage. The count Alencon, being informed of their petition, rode up and reviled them as cowards, commanding them to begin the -onset without delay. Their reluctance to begin was still more increased by a heavy shower which fell that instant, and relaxed their bow-strings; so that the discharge they made produced but very little effect. On the other hand, the English archers, who had kept their bows in cases, and were favoured by a sudden gleam of sunshine, that rather dazzled the enemy, let fly their arrows so thick, and with such good aim, that nothing was to be seen among the Genoese but hurry, terror, and dismay. The young prince of Wales had presence of mind to take advantage of their confusion, and to lead on his line to the charge. The French cavalry, however, commanded by the count Alencon, wheeling round, sustained the combat, and began to hem the English in. The earls of Arundel and Northampton now came to assist the prince, who appeared foremost in the very shock, and, wherever he appeared, turned the fortune of the day. The thickest of the battle was now gathered round him, and the valour of a boy filled even veterans with astonishment; but their surprise at his courage could not give way to their fears for his safety. Being apprehensive that some mischance might happen to him in the end, an officer was dispatched to the king, desiring that succours might be sent to the prince's relief. Edward, who had all this time, with great tranquillity, viewed the engagement from a wind-mill, demanded, with seeming deliberation, if his son were dead; but being answered that he still lived, and was giving astonishing instances of valour; "then tell my generals," cried the king, "that he shall have no assistance from me; the honor of this day shall be his, let him shew himself worthy the profession of arms, and let him be indebted to his own merit alone for victory." This speech being reported to the prince and his attendants, it inspired them with new courage; they made a fresh attack upon the French cavalry, and count Alencon,