Cameos from English History, from Rollo to Edward II

CAMEO XL. THE BARONS' WARS. (1310-1327.)

_King of England_.

1307. Edward II.

1314. Louis X.

1316. Philippe V.

1322. Charles IV.

_King of Scotland_.

1306. Robert I.

1314. Louis V.

_Kings of France_.

1285. Philippe IV

_Emperors of Germany.

1308. Henry VII.

_Popes_.

1305. Clement V.

1316. John XXII.

It was the misfortune of Edward of Caernarvon that he could not attach himself in moderation. Among the fierce Earls, and jealous, distrustful Barons, he gladly distinguished a man of gentle mould, who could return his affection; but he could not bestow his favor discreetly, and always ended by turning the head of his favorite and offending his subjects.

There was at his court a noble old knight, Sir Hugh le Despenser, whose ancestors had come over with William the Conqueror, and whose father had been created a Baron in 1264, as a reward for his services against Simon de Montfort. To this gentleman, and to his son Hugh, Edward became warmly attached; and apparently not undeservedly, for they were both gallant and knightly, and the son was highly accomplished, and of fine person. Edward made him his chamberlain, and gave him in marriage Eleanor de Clare, the sister of the Earl of Gloucester who was killed at Bannockburn, and one of the heiresses of the great earldom, with all its rights on the Welsh marches.

Still, the love and sympathy of the nation were with the King's cousin, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, who probably obtained favor by liberality, or by the arts for which poor Gaveston had named him the "stage-player," since his life seems to have been dissolute under much appearance of devotion. The last great Earl of Lincoln had chosen him as his son-in-law, while the intended bride, Alice, was yet a young child. In 1310, just after Gaveston's fall, Lincoln died, and the little Countess Alice, then only twelve years old, became the wife of Lancaster; but in 1317 mutual accusations were made on the part of the Earl and Countess, and Alice claimed to be set free, on account of a previous promise of marriage; while Lancaster complained of Earl Warrenne for having allowed a humpbacked knight, named Richard St. Martin, to carry Alice off to one of his castles, called Caneford, and there to obtain from her the troth now pleaded against him. Edward II. told Lancaster that he might proceed against Warrenne in the ordinary course of law: but this he would not do, as he did not wish to prove his wife's former contract, lest he should lose her great estates with herself; and instead of going honorably to work, he added this reply to his list of discontents against the King.

His friends even set it about that Edward II. was not the true son of Edward I.; and a foolish man, named John Deydras, even came forward professing to be the real Edward of Caernarvon, who had been changed at nurse; but no one believed him, and he was hanged for treason. A like story was invented, and even a ballad was current, making Queen Eleanor of Provence confess that Edmund Crouchback, not Edward I., was the rightful heir, but that he was set aside on account of his deformity; and Lancaster, as Edmund's son, was on the watch to profit by the King's unpopularity. Discontents were on the increase, and were augmented by a severe famine, and by the constant incursions of the Scots. Such was the want of corn, that, to prevent the consumption of grain, an edict was enacted that no beer should be brewed; and meat of any kind was so scarce, that, though the King decreed that, on pain of forfeiture, an ox should be sold for sixteen shillings, a sheep for three and sixpence, and a fowl for a penny, none of these creatures were forthcoming on any terms. Loathsome animals were eaten; and it was even said that parents were forced to keep a strict watch over their children, lest they should be stolen and devoured.

While the King and Queen were banquetting at Westminster, at Whitsuntide, 1317, a masked lady rode into the hall on horseback, and delivered a letter to the King. Imagining it to be some sportive challenge or gay compliment, he ordered that it should be read aloud; but it proved to be a direful lamentation over the state of England, and an appeal to him to rouse himself from his pleasures and attend to the good of his people. The bearer was at once pursued and seized, when she confessed that she had been sent by a knight; and he, on being summoned, asked pardon, saying he had not expected that the letter would be read in public, but that he deemed it the only means of drawing the King's attention to the miseries of his people. It may be feared that the letter met with the fate of Jeremiah's roll.

A cloud was already rising in the West, which seemed small and trifling, but which was fraught with bitter hatred and envy, ere long to burst in a storm upon the heads of the King and his friends. The first seeds of strife were sown by the dishonesty of a knight on the borders of Wales, one William de Breos. He began his career by trying to cheat his stepmother of her dower of eight hundred marks; and when the law decided against him, he broke out into such unseemly language against the judge, that he was sentenced to walk bareheaded from the King's Bench to the Exchequer to ask pardon, and then committed to the Tower. In after years he returned to his lordship of Gower, and there committed an act of fraud which led to the most fatal consequences. Having two daughters, Aliva and Jane, the eldest of whom was married to John de Mowbray and the second to James de Bohun, he executed a deed, settling his whole estate upon Aliva, and, in case of her death without children, upon Jane. But concealing this arrangement, he next proceeded to sell Gower three times over-to young Le Despenser, to Roger Mortimer, and to the Earl of Hereford; and having received all their purchase-money, he absconded therewith.

Mowbray took possession of Gower in right of his wife, and was thus first in the field; but Hugh le Despenser, whose purchase had been sanctioned by the King, came down upon him with a strong hand, and drove him out of the property. Thereupon Mowbray made common cause with all the other cheated claimants, De Bohun joining the head of his house, the great Earl of Hereford, who, with Roger Mortimer and his uncle, another Mortimer of the same name, revenged their wrongs by a foray upon Lady Eleanor le Despenser's estates in Glamorganshire, killing her servants, burning her castles, and driving off her cattle, so that in a few nights they had done several thousand pounds' worth of damage. The King, much incensed, summoned the Earl of Hereford to appeal before the council; but the Earl demanded that Hugh le Despenser should be previously placed in the custody of the Earl of Lancaster until the next parliament; and, on the King's refusal, made another inroad on the lands of the Despensers, and betook himself to Yorkshire, where the Earl of Lancaster was collecting all the malcontents.

The two Earls, the Lords of the Marches or borders of Wales, and thirty-four Barons and Knights, bound themselves by a deed, agreeing to prosecute the two Despensers until they should be driven into exile, and to maintain the quarrel to the honor of Heaven and Holy Church, and the profit of the King and his family. Lancaster proceeded to march upon London, allowing his men to live upon the plunder of the estates of the two favorites. From St. Alban's he sent a message to the King, requiring the banishment of the father and son, and immunity for his own party. Edward made a spirited answer, that the father was beyond sea in his service; the son with the fleet; that he would never sentence any man unheard; and that it would be contrary to his coronation oath to promise immunity to men in arms against the public peace.

The Barons advanced to London, and, quartering their followers in Holborn and Clerkenwell, spent a fortnight in deliberation. It appears that the token of adherence to their party was the wearing of a white favor, on which account the session of 1321 was called the Parliament of the White Bands. One day, when these white ensigns mustered strongly, the Barons brought forward an accusation on eleven counts against the two Despensers, and on their own authority, in the presence of the King, banished them from the realm, and pardoned themselves for their rising in arms. Edward had no power to resist, and, accordingly, the act was entered on the rolls, and the younger Hugh was driven from Dover, to join his father on the Continent.

This success rendered the Barons' party insolent, and about two months after, when Queen Isabel was on pilgrimage to Canterbury, and had sent her purveyors to prepare a lodging for her at her own royal Castle of Leeds, the Lady Badlesmere, wife to the Castellane, who was also governor of Bristol and had received numerous favors from Edward, refused admittance, fearing damage to her party; and the Queen riding up in the midst of the parley, a volley of arrows was discharged from the castle, and six of the royal escort were killed.

Isabel of course complained loudly of such a reception at her own castle, whereupon Bartholomew Badlesmere himself wrote from Bristol Castle an impudent letter, justifying his wife's conduct. Isabel was much hurt, since she had always been friendly to the Barons' party; and when she found that even her uncle of Lancaster stood by the Badlesmeres, she persuaded the King to raise an army to revenge the affront offered to her. Summonses were therefore sent out, and the Londoners, with whom the Queen was very popular, came in great force, and laid siege to Leeds Castle. Lady Badlesmere expected to be succored by Lancaster; but he would not come forward, and in a few days her castle was taken, her steward, Walter Culpepper, hanged, and herself committed to the Tower.

Such a bold stroke on the King's part emboldened the elder Le Despenser return to England and join his master. Thereupon Lancaster summoned the other nobles to meet him at Doncaster, to consult what measures should be taken against the minions, and led an army to seize Warwick Castle, which, during the minority of Earl Thomas of Warwick, belonged to the King. In the meantime, Hugh followed his father, but, with English respect for order, put himself under custody until his sentence of banishment should be revoked. The matter was tried before the Bishops of the province of Canterbury, when it was argued, on behalf of Hugh, that Magna Charta had been set at naught by his condemnation without a hearing, and that the King's consent had been extorted by force; and the Earl of Kent, Edward's brother, with several others, making oath that they had been overawed by the White Bands, the banishment was declared illegal, and the prisoners set at liberty.

Lancaster proceeded to raise the north of England; Hereford and the two Mortimers went to the marches of Wales to collect their forces; and Edward, for once under the wise counsel of the Chancellor John de Salmon, set forth alertly in December toward the West, that he might deal with the two armies separately. He was very popular on the Welsh border, and met with rapid success, breaking up the forces of the Lords Marchers before they could come to a head, and finally making both the Mortimers prisoners, sending them to the Tower. Hereford, with 8,000 men, made his way to join Lancaster, who was at the head of a considerable force, and had already taken the miserable step of entering into correspondence with Robert Bruce, Douglas, and Randolph. Elated by the succor which they promised, Lancaster advanced and laid siege to Ticknall Castle, but was forced to retreat on the approach of the King. At Burton-upon-Trent, however, they halted for three days, with Edward opposite to them.

"Upon the mount the King his tentage fixt,

And in the town the Barons lay in sight,

When as the Trent was risen so betwixt,

That for a while prolonged the unnatural fight."

However, a ford was found, and the royal army crossing, Lancaster set fire to Burton, and retreated into Yorkshire, writing again from Puntefract Castle under the signature of King Arthur, to ask aid from the Scots, and secure his retreat.

As Michael Drayton observes, "Bridges should seem to Barons ominous;" for at Boroughbridge, upon the Ure, Lancaster found Sir Andrew Harclay and Sir Simon Ward, Governors of York and Carlisle, with a band of northern troops, ready to cut off his retreat. The bridge was too narrow for cavalry, and Hereford therefore led a charge on foot; but in this perilous undertaking he was slain by a Welshman who was hidden under the bridge, and who thrust a lance through a crevice of the boarding into his body as he passed. His fall discomfited the rest, and Lancaster, who had been attempting a ford, was driven back by the archery. He tried to bribe Sir Andrew Harclay. and, failing, begged for a truce of one night, still hoping that the Scots might arrive. Harclay granted this, but in early morning summoned the sheriff and the county-force to arrest the Earl. Lancaster retired into a chapel and, looking on the crucifix, said, "Good Lord, I render myself to Thee, and put myself into Thy mercy." He was taken to York for one night, and afterward, to his own Castle of Pontefract, where, on the King's last disastrous retreat from Scotland, he had mocked and jeered at his sovereign from the battlements: and Harclay took care to make generally known the treasonable correspondence with Scotland, proofs of which had been found on the person of the dead Hereford.

The King presently arriving at Pontefract, brought Lancaster to trial before six Earls and a number of Barons; and as his treason was manifest, he was told that it would be to no purpose to speak in his own defence, and was sentenced to the death of a traitor. In consideration of his royal blood, Edward remitted the chief horrors of the execution, and made it merely decapitation; but as the Earl was led to a hill outside the town, on a gray pony without a bridle, the mob pelted him and jeered him by his assumed name of King Arthur. "King of Heaven," he cried, "grant me mercy! for the king of earth hath forsaken me." He knelt by the black with his face to the east, but he was bidden to turn to the north, that he might look toward his friends, the Scots; and in this manner he was beheaded. The inhabitants of the northern counties were not likely to think lightly of the offence of bringing in the Scots, and yet in a short time there was a strong change of feeling. Lancaster was mourned as "the good Earl," and miracles were said to be wrought at his tomb. The King was obliged to write orders to the Bishop of London to forbid the people from offering worship to his picture hung up in St. Paul's Church; and Drayton records a tradition that "grass would never grow where the battle of Boroughbridge had been fought." It seemed as if Lancaster had succeeded to the reputation of Montfort, as a protector of the liberties of the country: but to our eyes he appears more like a mere factious, turbulent noble, acting rather from spite and party spirit than as a redresser of wrongs; never showing the respect for law and justice manifested by the opponents of Edward I.; and, in fact, constraining the Royalists to appeal to Magna Charta against him. Still there must have been something striking and attractive about him, for, after his death, even his injured cousin Edward lamented him, and reproached his nobles for not having interceded for him. Fourteen bannerets and fourteen other knights were executed, being all who were taken in arms against the King; the others were allowed to make peace; and the Mortimers, who had been condemned to death, had their sentence changed to perpetual imprisonment. Hereford's estates passed on to the eldest of his large family, the King's own nephews. Lancaster left no children, but his brother, Henry Wryneck, Earl of Derby, did not receive his estates till they had been mulcted largely on behalf of the Despensers. The father was created Earl of Winchester, and the son received such bounty from the King, that all the old hatred against Piers Gaveston was revived, though it does not appear that Hugh provoked dislike by any such follies or extravagances.

The elder Roger Mortimer, the uncle, died in the Tower. The younger contrived, after a year's imprisonment, to make interest with one of the servants in the Tower, Gerard de Asplaye, with whose assistance he gave an entertainment to his guards, drugged their liquor, so as to throw them into a heavy sleep, broke through the wall into the royal kitchen, and thence escaped by a rope-ladder. Report afterward averred that it was the fairest hand in England that drugged the wine and held the rope, and that Queen Isabel,

"From the wall's height, as when he down did slide,

Had heard him cry, 'Now, Fortune, be my guide!'"

Thus far is certain, that Isabel and Mortimer were inmates of the Tower at the same time, in the year 1321; for she was left there while the King was gone in pursuit of Lancaster, and she there gave birth to her fourth child, Joan. Whether the prisoner then sought an interview with her, is not known, but he was a remarkably handsome man, and Isabel, at twenty-six years of age, was beautiful, proud, and with bitterness in her heart against her husband for his early neglect. She had been on fairly good terms with him ever since the birth of the Prince of Wales, and her grace and beauty, her affable manners, and the idea that she was ill-used, made her a great favorite with the English nation; but she was angered by the execution of her uncle, the Earl of Lancaster, and from the time of the King's return she proceeded to manifest great discontent, and as much dislike and jealousy of the Despensers as she had previously shown toward Gaveston.

Mortimer escaped to France, and subsequent events made it seem as if she had been acting in concert with him. He had married a French lady, Jeanne de Joinville, and was taken at once into the service of King Charles IV.

Charles IV., le Bel, was the youngest of Isabel's brothers, who had succeeded each other so quickly that it seemed as though the sacrilegious murder of the Templars was to be visited by the extinction of the male line of Philippe IV. To Charles, Isabel sent great complaints, declaring that she was "married to a gripple miser, and was no better than a waiting-woman, living on a pension from the Despensers." There had, in fact, been a fierce struggle with them for power, and they had prevailed to have all her French attendants dismissed, very probably on the discovery of the transactions with Mortimer in the Tower, and a yearly income had been assigned to her in lieu of her royal estates. This was very irregularly paid, for affairs were in a most confused and disorderly state, managed in a most childish manner. It appears that, when hunting at Windsor, the Chancellor Baldock gave the great seal to the King to keep, and that the King made it over to William de Ayremyne.

There were no doubt grounds for complaint on both sides; but Charles le Bel saw only his sister's view of the question, and resolved to quarrel with his brother-in-law. Homage for the Duchy of Aquitaine had not been rendered to him, and on this pretext he began to exercise all possible modes of annoyance on the borders, and to give judgment against any Guiennois or Poitevins who sued against Edward as their liege lord, Edward remonstrated in vain, and sent his brother Edmund, Earl of Kent, a fine-looking but weak young man of twenty-two, to endeavor to make peace, but in vain: on the first pretext, a war on the borders broke out.

Thereupon Edward took into his custody all the castles belonging to his wife, declaring that he could not leave them in her hands while she was in correspondence with the enemies of the country; and yet, with his usual inconsistent folly, he listened to a proposal from her that she should go to Paris to bring about a peace with her brother.

With four knights, Isabel crossed the sea, and presently made her appearance at Paris in the character of an injured Princess, kneeling before her brother, and asking his protection against the cruelty of her husband; to which Charles replied, "Sister, be comforted; for, by my faith to Monseigneur St. Denis, I will find a remedy."

Isabel was lodged at the court of France, and treated with distinction. Mortimer and all the banished English repaired to her abode, and all the chivalry of France regarded her as an exiled heroine. She wrote to her husband that peace might be scoured by the performance of the neglected homage, and he was actually setting out for the purpose, when, in a second letter, she told him that his own presence was not needed, but that his ceremony might be gone through by his son Edward, Prince of Wales, provided the duchy were placed in his hands as an appanage.

This proposal met with approval, and young Edward, then twelve years old, under the charge of the Bishops of Exeter and Oxford, was sent to Paris, after having promised his father to hasten his return, and not to marry without his consent.

No sooner had the boy arrived, than the homage was performed, and Edward expected the return of both mother and son; but they still delayed, and on receiving urgent letters from him, the Queen made public declaration that she did not believe her life in safety from the Despensers.

Poor King Edward, amazed, and almost thinking her under a delusion, roused all the prelates in the realm to write to her in defence of his friends, and himself wrote to her brother, saying that she could have no reasonable fear of any man in his dominions, since, if Hugh or any other person wished to do her any harm, he himself would be the first to resent it. He wrote likewise pre-emptorily to the Prince to return, but all in vain; and a light was thrown on their proceedings, when Walter Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, returned home as a fugitive, having discovered a plot on Mortimer's part against his own life, and bringing word that Isabel's affection for Mortimer was the true cause of delay. It would also seem that the Bishop had in part detected a conspiracy against his master, for there were orders instantly sent to search all letters arriving at any of the ports.

After Stapleton's return, Edward's letters to Charles, and even to the Pope, became so pressing, that for very shame Charles could not allow his sister to remain at Paris any longer, and, rather than provoke a war, he dismissed her. She was a woman of great plausibility and fascination, and she not only persuaded her young son to believe her in danger from his father, but she also won over her brother-in-law, the Earl of Kent, as well as her cousin, the Sieur Robert d'Artois; and setting out from Paris in their company, she proceeded to the independent German principalities in the guise of a dame-errant of romance, misused by her husband, maltreated by her brother, denied a refuge even in her native country, and seeking aid from foreign princes.

Every chivalrous heart, deluded by appearances, glowed with enthusiasm. At Ostrevant, John, the brother of the Count of Hainault, came and vowed himself her knight, promising to redress her wrongs. He conducted her to his brother's court at Hainault; and there the young Edward first beheld the plump, blue-eyed, fair-haired, honest Philippa, a girl of about his own age, and a youthful true-love sprang up between them-the sole gleam of light in this dark period.

Isabel's beautiful face and mournful tale deluded the young, as did Mortimer's promises the covetous. She finally set sail from Dort with 2,500 French and Brabancons, under the charge of Sir John of Hainault, and landed at Orwell, in Suffolk. The King had ordered that any one who landed on the coast should be treated as a traitor, except the Queen and the Prince, and had set a price on the head of Mortimer; but no one attended to him. Isabel had won the sympathy of the nation by her fancied wrongs; and Adam Orleton, Bishop of Hereford, a former partisan of Lancaster, was working in her cause.

Both the King's brothers, and his cousin, Henry of Lancaster, were of her party; and the universal dislike and jealousy of Despenser made the more loyal disinclined to exert themselves in the King's behalf. He summoned the Londoners to take up arms, but was answered, that though they would shut the gates against all foreigners, they would not be led more than a day's march beyond the city walls. He could only seek a refuge among his more attached subjects, the Welsh; and leaving his younger children and his niece, the wife of Hugh le Despenser, in the Tower, he set off for the marches of Wales. No sooner was he gone, than the citizens rose, seized the Tower, and murdered the loyal Bishop of Exeter at St. Paul's Cross, throwing his body into the mud of the river, and sending his head to the Queen.

The Queen, whose army increased every day, had arrived at Oxford, where Adam Orleton preached a disgraceful sermon on the text, "My head, my head acheth," wherein he averred the startling prescription that the cure for an aching head was to cut it off, and that the present head of England needed this decisive remedy.

The poor King had gone to Gloucester, whence he sent the elder Le Despenser to hold out Bristol Castle; but the townspeople proved so disaffected, that the castle was forced to surrender to the rebels on the third day. The Queen appointed a judge, who sentenced the old man, ninety years of age, to be put to death; and the murder was committed the following day, with all the circumstances of atrocity that had been spared to Lancaster. At Bristol, Isabel became aware that her husband had fled farther to the West; he had, in fact, sailed, with Hugh le Despenser and the Chancellor Baldock, for Ireland, but he was driven back by contrary winds, and forced to land in Glamorganshire. He wandered from castle to castle, and was besieged at Caerphilli, whence it is said that he escaped at night in the disguise of a peasant; and, to avoid detection, himself assisted in carrying brushwood to feed the fires of the besiegers. He next took refuge in a farmhouse, where the farmer tried to baffle the pursuers by setting him to dig; but his awkwardness in handling the spade had nearly betrayed him. For a short time he tarried at Neath Abbey, but left it lest the monks should suffer for giving him shelter. At the end of another week Despenser and Baldock were discovered, and delivered up to Henry of Lancaster; and on this Edward came forward and gave himself up, to save them, or to share their fate.

There was no hope; the King was kept in close custody, and Baldock was so ill-treated that he died shortly after. Hugh le Despenser would eat no food after he was taken; and, lest death should balk revenge, he was at once brought to a sham trial, and accused of every misfortune that had befallen England-of the loss of Bannockburn; of conspiracy against the Queen; of counselling the death of Lancaster; and of suppressing the miracles at his tomb. For all which deeds Sir Hugh le Despenser was sentenced to die as a wicked and attainted traitor; and immediately after he was drawn to execution in a black gown, with his scutcheon reversed, and a wreath of nettles around his head-but, happily, nearly insensible from exhaustion-and was hanged on a gallows fifty feet high. His son Hugh, a spirited young man of nineteen, held out Caerphilli Castle manfully, until he actually obtained a promise of safety, and lived to transmit the honors of the oldest barony now existing in England.

The Earl of Arundel was likewise executed, and Mortimer seized his property; after which the Queen set out for London, summoning the Parliament to meet at Westminster.

In this Parliament Adam Orleton began by making outrageous speeches as to the certain death it would be to the Queen and Prince if the King were released and restored to his authority, and he called upon the Lords to choose whether father or son should be King. The London mob clamored in fury without, ardent for the ruin of the King; and the Archbishop, saying, _Vox populi vox Dei_, added his influence. Young Edward was led forward, and a few hymns being hastily sung, received the oaths of allegiance of all the peers present, except the prelates of York, London, Rochester, and Carlisle, who boldly maintained the rights of the captive King, though with great danger to themselves.

The Bishop of Rochester was thrown down by the furious mob, and nearly murdered; and the sight so terrified the other friends of the poor King, that not a voice was raised in his defence. A bill was passed declaring Edward II. deposed, and Edward III. the sovereign; whereupon Isabel, to keep up appearances, lamented so much, that she actually deceived her son, who came forward, and with great spirit declared that he would never deprive his father of the crown.

The King was at Kenilworth, honorably treated by his cousin, Henry of Lancaster, and thither a deputation was sent to force him to resign his dignity. The Bishops of Winchester and Lincoln were first sent to him to argue, threaten, and persuade, and, when they thought him sufficiently prepared, led him in a plain black gown to make his formal renunciation. At the sight of his mortal enemy, Orleton, Edward sank to the ground, but recovered enough to listen to a violent discourse from that rebel prelate, reproaching him with all his misconduct, and requiring him to lay aside his crown. Meekly, and weeping floods of tears, Edward replied, that "he was in their hands, and they must do what seemed good to them; he only thanked them for their goodness to his son, and owned his own sins to be the sole cause of his misfortunes."

Then Sir William Trussel, in the name of all England, revoked the oath of allegiance, and the steward of the household broke his staff of office, as he would have done had it been the funeral of his master. Would that it had been his funeral, must have been the wish of the unfortunate Sir Edward of Caernarvon, as he was thenceforth termed; disowned, degraded, with wife, son, and brothers turned against him; not one voice uplifted in his favor; all his friends murdered. He wrote some melancholy Latin verses during his captivity, full of sad complaints of the inconstancy of Fortune; but he had not yet experienced the worst that was in store for him. At first, presents of clothes and kindly messages were sent to him by the Queen; and when he begged to see her or his children, she replied that it would not be permitted by Parliament. He pleaded again and again, and Henry of Lancaster began so far to appear his friend, that Isabel took alarm. The Pope refused her request that Thomas of Lancaster should be canonized as a saint and martyr, and she feared that he might even interfere on the King's behalf, and oblige her to give up Mortimer, and return to her husband.

Orleton had been sent on an embassy to the Papal court, but he was there consulted by the Queen whether the King should be allowed to live. His answer was the ambiguous line: "Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est." (Edward to kill be unwilling to fear it is good.)

Doubt, in such a case, is certain to end in evil. That the King should die, was determined, and the charge of the unfortunate monarch was therefore transferred to Maurice, Lord Berkeley, and to Sir John Maltravers. The latter set out with two men, named Ogle and Gurney, to escort the King from Kenilworth. At Bristol such demonstrations were made in his favor, that, taking alarm, his keepers clad him in mean and scanty garments, and made him ride toward Corfe in the chilly April night, scoffing and jeering him; and when, in the morning, they paused to arrange their dress, they set a crown of hay in derision on his head, and brought him, in an old helmet, filthy ditch-water to shave with. With a shower of tears he strove to smile, saying that, in spite of them, his cheeks were covered with pure warm water enough. They brought him to Berkeley Castle, on the Severn, and there, it is said, tried to poison him; but his strength of constitution resisted the potion, and did not fail, under confinement or insufficient diet. At last, when Berkeley was ill, and absent, came the night,

"When Severn should re-echo with affright

The sounds of death through Berkeley's roofs that ring,

Shrieks of an agonizing king."

At those cries many a countryman awoke, crossed himself, and prayed as for a soul departing in torment. Seven months after his deposition, Edward of Caernarvon lay dead in Berkeley Castle, and the gates were thrown open, and the chief burghers of Bristol admitted to see his corpse. No sign of violence was visible, but the features, once so beautiful, were writhed into such a look of agony, that the citizens came away awed and horrified; and hearing the villagers speak of the cries that had rung from the walls the night before, felt certain that the late King had perished by a strange and frightful murder.

But those were no days for inquiry, and the royal corpse was hastily borne to Gloucester Abbey Church, and there buried. The impression, however, could not be forgotten; multitudes flocked to pray at the shrine of the dead sovereign, whom living no one would befriend: and such offerings were made at his tomb, that the monks raised a beautiful new south aisle to the church; nay, they could have built the church over again with the means thus acquired. A monument was raised over his grave, and his effigy was carved on it-a robed and crowned figure, with hands meekly folded, and a face of such exquisite, appealing sweetness, dignity, and melancholy, that it is hardly possible to look at it without tears, or to help believing that even thus might Edward have looked when, in all the nobleness of patience, he stood forgiving his persecutors, as they crowned him in scorn with grass, and derided his misfortunes. A weak and frivolous man, cruelly sinned against, Edward of Caernarvon was laid in his untimely grave in the forty-third year of his age.

Thus ended the Barons' Wars, no patriotic resistance of an opposition who used sword and lance instead of the tongue and the pen, but the factious jealousy of men who became ferocious in their hatred of favoritism.