Among the prisoners taken were Robert de Courtenay, Ralph de Tornellis, William de Barrés, 125 knights, and more than 6,000 men-at-arms; while De Burgh's loss, being nowhere mentioned, cannot have been very great. Sir Philip d'Albany died when performing a second pilgrimage to the Holy Land, in 1237. One of the most immediate and important results of this battle was that Louis relinquished his claim to the throne of England, and quitted its shores, but not without reluctance, and certain stipulations for the safety of his friends; thus ending a civil war which seemed to be founded on the most incurable 21 hatred and jealousy, and which had threatened England with the most fatal consequences and when Pembroke died, in the third year of his regency, the government of the country was divided between the Bishop of Winchester and the victor in the battle off Dover, who was made Lord High Admiral of England. Ultimately he was very ill requited for all his services. On false charges, the year 1224 saw him a prisoner in the Tower of London, from whence he was removed to a dungeon in the castle of Devizes; and after many vicissitudes, he died at Banstead, in Surrey, on the 12th May, 1243. CHAPTER IV. LEWES, 1264-EVESHAM, 1265-IN THE CHANNEL, 1293. FRANCE was now in no way disposed to meddle with The King's fondness for the Poictevins and the Provençals, who flocked after his consort, Eleanor, roused, however, the jealousy of the nation, and ere long the barons revolted, under Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, who had married the king's sister, Eleanor; and this, together with the departure of his younger brother, Richard, to win laurels in the fourth Crusade, and win the crown of the Romans, shook the throne of England, and raised the secret hopes of those who aspired to its overthrow. In 1258, in token of mischief to come, the barons came to council at Westminster sheathed in full armour; and when they assembled at Oxford, in what was called the "Mad Parliament," they appointed a committee of twentyfour restless spirits to reform the state, and these passed certain enactments which are matters of general history, and were called the "Provisions of Oxford." But the wished-for reforms were delayed by disunion and jealousies among themselves; and the King of France, on being chosen umpire, gave, perhaps naturally, the decision in favour of Henry III. On this the flames of civil war broke forth. Simon of Leicester held London; and when the great bell of old St. Paul's rang out the alarm, the citizens from Fenchurch, Chepe, and Strand, flocked round his standard to pillage the foreign merchants, whom they deemed fair objects of spoil, and to murder the unhappy Jews-then viewed as all men's prey, and as an accursed race. In the same year a famine increased the troubles of the land. The year 1264 saw the rival factions nearly equal in number of adherents and in military resources. The northern counties, conspicuous ever in history for reasoning and unreasoning loyalty, together with those along the Welsh border, declared for the king; while the midland shires, the Cinque Ports, and London, "being the fattest and most attractive baits for the cupidity of foreigners," declared for Leicester. And among those who were reckoned foreigners were Robert Bruce the elder, Earl of Annandale; John Comyn, Lord of Badenoch ; and John Baliol, all Scoto-Normans, who brought their vassals from beyond the borders, as volunteers to Henry's standard. On the Leicester side were De Warrene, Gloucester, the De l'Espensers, William Marmion, Robert de Roos, Richard Grey, John Fitz-John, Nicholas Seagrave, and many other nobles of high lineage and large estate; and the politic earl endeavoured to impart a sacred character to his cause, for after recounting to them the many alleged perjuries of the king, he assured them that God was on their side, and caused them all to wear white crosses on their surcoats, as if they had been warring in a crusade against heathens, and not Christian Englishmen like themselves. And when the parties drew near each other in order of battle, at Lewes, in Sussex, on the 14th of May, John Arundel, Bishop of Chichester, and formerly a prebend of St. Paul's, went through the insurgent ranks, giving a general absolution to all, and promising heaven to all who might fall, But By this time flat-ringed armour had nearly disap-disorder from the field, trampled under hoof, and peared, and that composed of rings set edgeways slaughtered in heaps; and for four miles he pursued was almost generally worn, with much quilted and them without giving quarter to a single man. padded armour, made of silk, cloth, buckram, and this victory cost him dear, as he left the royal leather; and these materials, from the peculiar infantry totally unprotected; so they in turn were manner in which they were ornamented, obtained borne down under a combined attack from the the name of pourpoint and counterpoint. The sur- columns of Leicester and Gloucester. For a time coats were usually elaborately emblazoned with the all were mingled together, fighting "with a fury family arms and honours of the wearer. Small mixed with despair;" and ultimately the king's plates of steel were beginning to be worn at the forces began to retire towards the foot of that high shoulders, elbows, and knees, called, according to green hill on which the grey old castle of Lewes their position, epaulières (hence epaulettes), coutes, stands, many of them hoping there to find shelter and genouillires, and to these were added in turn and make terms. But alas for them!-town and splint after splint, till the complete mail of future castle were alike in the hands of the barons, and years was reached. The helmets were barrel-formed, finding themselves surrounded on all sides, they and rested on the shoulders, cumbrous, and liable surrendered at discretion. So there were taken to be wheeled round by a lance thrust. Iron skull- Henry, King of England; his brother, the King of caps were worn by esquires, archers, and men-at- the Romans; Humphry de Bohun, Earl of Herearms. A knight's shield was straight at the top; ford; William Bardolf, Robert de Tattershall, and now, in addition to the weapons of the last Henry de Piercy, and the three Scottish auxiliaries, century, he added a martel-de-fer, in fact, a mere Bruce, Baliol, and Comyn. pointed hammer, for the purpose of breaking the links of chain-mail and plates, to leave openings for the point of lance or sword; and now, for the first time, the roweled spur had replaced the barbarous goad. It was on the present race-ground, the down now traditionally known as "Mount Harry," the encounter we are about to narrate took place, near where the ancient town of Lewes, with its walls, and the loftily-situated castle built by William de Warrene, son-in-law of the Conqueror, still stately in ruin, look down on the grassy vales of Sussex and the Ouse winding to the sea. The royal army was divided into three bodies. Prince Edward had the right; the King of the Romans the left; Henry III. led the main body, where his standard, a dragon, was displayed. The army of the barons was formed in five divisions. The first was led by Henry de Montfort and the Earls of Hereford and Essex; the second by the Earl of Gloucester, with Fitz-John and William de Montcausis; the third was led by the Earl of Leicester; the fourth, consisting wholly of Londoners, was on the extreme left, under Nicholas Seagrave, mustering 15,000 men, according to Matthew of Westminster. The battle was begun by the young and fiery Prince Edward, who, at the head of a chosen body of knights and men-at-arms, with lances in the rest, made a terrible charge on the Londoners. Burning to avenge the insults they had heaped upon his mother, whom they had threatened to drown as a witch, he attacked them with such impetuous fury that they were broken in an instant, driven in Young Edward returned from his vengeful pursuit to find the day thus lost, more than 5,000 English corpses covering the ground, and among those of his father's people were De Wilton, the Justiciary, and Fulk Fitz-Warin; and of the barons, three noble knights, one of whom was William Blund, their standard-bearer. For that night the king and his kinsmen were lodged in the Priory of Lewes, some remains of which are still discernible near the town. In the meantime the queen, Eleanor, who had fled to the Continent, gathered a numerous force with the aid of different princes, who regarded the cause of Henry as their own; and she was now waiting at the Damme, in Flanders, ready to cross the Channel: but Leicester ("Sir Simon the Righteous," as the English called him), with great. promptitude, ordered a muster of the barons' troops on Barham Downs to await her landing. He also went on board a fleet to meet her on the sea. This display of resolution, together with the defeat at Lewes, so intimidated the leaders of the queen that they disbanded their land forces, and their fleet never ventured from port. EVESHAM. Leicester was frequently harassed by solicitations for the release of the two princes, Edward and Henry. At last he pretended to acquiesce, and convoked a Parliament to sanction the measure; though the secret motive was to consolidate his own power, the power which he had won by years of labour, danger, and intrigue. He had hitherto enjoyed the co-operation of the Earls of Derby and Gloucester; but if he was ambitious and casting eyes towards the throne, they were too proud to bow to a fellow-subject. Quarrels ensued, and the arrest of the former warning Gloucester of danger, he unfurled the royal standard in the midst of his tenantry; and Leicester immediately marched towards Hereford, carrying with him his prisoners guarded by a numerous body of knights. One day after dinner Prince Edward obtained permission "to breathe two or three horses" in the fields outside the town, attended by certain gentlemen who guarded him continually. After riding to and fro a little space, he suddenly dashed the spurs into the fleetest of the animals which he mounted, and which had been sent to him by the Earl of Gloucester, and ere his guards could recover from their surprise he had fairly escaped. Prince Edward, with Gloucester, now concerted the plan of a new campaign; while every day malcontents with Leicester's government came flocking to their standard. The latter's forces were divided, a part remaining with himself at Hereford, while the rest were with his son, Simon de Montfort, in Sussex; so the first object of Edward was to prevent their effecting a junction, by confining the earl to the right bank of the Severn. For this purpose he destroyed all the bridges and sunk all the boats on the river, which was then broader and deeper than it is now: after that he marched against Simon, whose forces he surprised near Kenilworth in the night, and cut to pieces; while Simon himself, without armour or even clothing, had to flee for shelter to his father's castle which stood close by. Meanwhile his father made several successful efforts to extricate himself from the blockade he was undergoing on the right bank of the Severn. He crossed the river after several skilful manoeuvres, advanced to Worcester, and then to Evesham, hourly expecting to form a junction with the forces under his son. On the morning of the 4th of August, 1265, when looking in the direction of his stately castle of Kenilworth, he saw a force descending the hills, their armour glittering in the sun, and bearing his own standards. But he soon discovered that these had been taken from Simon's routed force, and that under them the enemy had stolen upon him, closing around him surely, in front, on flank, and rear. Bewildered by the precision and secresy of this combined movement, the earl, after a gloomy pause, shook his gauntleted hand heavenward, and exclaimed, "They have learned from me the art of war! May God have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are the prince's!" 23 He now made every effort to array his lesser force in order of battle; after which he spent a short time in prayer, and received the sacrament, as he was always wont to do before fighting. The battle began about two in the afternoon, and was barely concluded by sunset, so rancorous was the hate on both sides. The first movement was made by Leicester attempting, at the head of his knights and men-at-arms, to cut a passage to the Kenilworth road; but he failed in this, being deserted by his Welsh followers in the heat of the onset. Fighting sword in hand, and in front, he strove by every example to withstand the efforts of Prince Edward, who displayed the most brilliant valour on the other side. His friends were falling fast on every hand, and their followers becoming disheartened. All order being lost, he formed them into a solid circle on the summit of an eminence, and by spear and axe repelled for a time the assaults of the Royalists, by whom they were completely surrounded. In one of these old King Henry, whom Leicester had cruelly led into the field to do battle against his own son and his own cause, and whose features were concealed by the bars of a riveted helmet, was unhorsed, thrown to the ground, and in danger of being dispatched (according to Heming), when he cried to his assailant with a loud voice, "Hold, fellow! I am Henry of Winchester, thy king!" On this he was saved, and Prince Edward, who was close by, on recognising his voice, had him conveyed to a place of safety, and asking his blessing, rushed once more into the conflict. By this time the small army of Leicester was wavering more than ever. His son Henry had been killed by his side. His horse fell beneath the closing spears, yet, freeing himself from the saddle and the dying animal, the earl fought with the fury that is born of desperation. Seeing all hopeless, he asked of the Royalists if they would give quarter. "No quarter to traitors!" was the stern shout; and soon after he fell, sword in hand, near the corpse of his gallant son, who had fallen in seeking to defend him. All was over then; defeat and the slaughter of his followers ensued, just as the sun was going down. All the ferocity that civil strife engenders was exhibited by the king's party on this occasion; no prisoners were taken, and of Leicester's army there fell in this battle at Evesham 180 barons and knights, and an unnumbered multitude of inferior vassals. The body of the ambitious earl was found among the dead near that of his son. Roger Mortimer hewed off the head, and barbarously by the troubles of a reign, save that of George III., the longest ever known in Britain. sent it to his wife, as a sure token of victory and of vengeance, for she had been ever one of Leicester's greatest enemies. The bodies of father and son were then mutilated after a fashion singularly horrible; and after being dragged to Evesham, were there, together with the remains of the Justiciary, arose a naval war between France and England. SEA-FIGHT IN THE CHANNEL. Twenty-one years after Edward's accession, there Hugh de l'Espenser, buried in the church belonging to the abbey, the stately tower of which is still remaining. A pedestal still commemorates the site of this battle, which replaced the English crown more firmly on the head of a weak and credulous king, whose lot was cast in stormy times, when a strong and almost tyrant hand was ever needed to hold the helm of the State. During the absence of his son Edward in Palestine he died, worn out In 1286, Edward was the first who appointed a person to the office of Admiral of the English Seas, as we find William de Leybourne styled "Admiral de le Mer du dit Roy d'Angleterre," at an ordinance made at Bruges concerning the conduct of the ships of England and Flanders in that year; and about the same time first mention is made of an admiral of France, named Florent de Varenne, whose successor, Enguerrand, was "Admiral de la Flotte du Roi Philippe le Hardi," yet never was the sea more Guienne), and both having occasion for water, sent! their boats ashore at the same time, and, as misfortune would have it, to the same spring, upon which there immediately ensued a quarrel for precedence. In the squabble a Norman drew his dagger and attempted to stab an English seaman, who grappling with him, hurled him to the ground. The Norman was said to have fallen on his own dagger; be that as it may, the man was slain, and from this petty scuffle between two obscure seamen about a cask of water, there grew a bloody war between two great nations, involving half of Europe in the quarrel. The mariners of the Norman ship laid their complaints before the King of France, who, without caring to inquire into the matter, bade them This injury, accompanied by circumstances so insulting, was speedily resented by all the mariners of the Cinque Ports, who, without the empty formality of appealing to King Edward, retaliated by committing precisely the same barbarities on all French vessels without distinction; and the French in return preyed upon the ships of Edward's subjects, Gascon as well as English: and soon armed piratical craft of all kinds swarmed in the Channel and Bay of Biscay in pursuit of each other, the sovereigns of both countries remaining perfectly indifferent the while. The English formed private associations with the Irish and Dutch seamen, the French with the Genoese and Flemings; and the animosities of these lawless spirits became more and more violent. |