XVI. REIGN OF KING STEPHEN
Stephen of Blois--Arrival in England--His Coronation--Pope Innocent's Letter--Claims of Matilda--The Earl of Gloucester's Policy--Revolt of the Barons--The King of Scotland Invades England--The Battle of Northallerton--Outrage on the Bishops of Salisbury, Lincoln, and Ely--The Synod of Winchester--Landing of the Empress Matilda--Outbreak of Civil War--Battle at Lincoln--Defeat and Capture of Stephen--Matilda's Arrogant Behaviour--Rising of the Londoners and Flight of Matilda--London Re-occupied by the King's Adherents--Matilda Besieged in Winchester--Exchange of the Earl of Gloucester for the King--Stephen Resumes the Crown--Reign of Terror--Siege of Oxford--Flight of Matilda--Desultory Warfare--Death of the Earl of Gloucester--Stephen's Quarrel with the Church--The Interdict Removed--Further Dangers from Normandy--Divorce of Eleanor--Her Marriage with Prince Henry--Landing of Henry in England--Unpopularity of the War--Violence and Death of Eustace--Treaty Arranged between Henry and the King--Death of Stephen.
The exertions made by Henry to preserve to his daughter the succession to the throne proved altogether fruitless, and those solemn vows which he had exacted from the barons, and with which he had endeavoured to fence about the cause of Matilda, were of no avail. No sooner did the news of the king's death reach Stephen of Blois than he instantly took measures for seizing upon the English crown. Allusion has already been made to this ambitious noble, who, on taking the oaths of fealty to Matilda, had caused himself to be recognised as the first prince of the blood.
Stephen, Count of Blois, to whom William the Conqueror gave his daughter Adela in marriage, had several sons. Two of these, Henry and Stephen, had been invited to England by the late king, who had bestowed great favour and preferment upon them. Henry, cruel towards his enemies, was a firm and generous friend to those who happened to obtain his goodwill. Young Henry, who had been educated for the Church, was made Abbot of Glastonbury, and subsequently appointed to the see of Winchester. Stephen received the hand of Maud, daughter and heiress of Eustace, the Count of Boulogne. The connection was in the highest degree advantageous to Stephen. Immense estates in England, as well as the earldom of Boulogne, came to him in right of his wife, who moreover possessed a hold upon the sympathies of the English in consequence of her descent. Mary, his wife's mother, was the sister of David, King of Scotland, and of Matilda the Good, first wife of Henry I. and mother of the empress.
At the time of the dispute with Robert of Gloucester on the subject of precedence, Stephen professed that his gratitude to the king impelled him to be the first to offer allegiance to Matilda; but his whole course of action at this period shows that his designs upon the English crown were fully matured. He exerted himself to attain popularity among the people, as well as among the barons. His daring and gallantry secured him the admiration of the Normans, while his affable and familiar manners, joined to a generosity without stint, obtained the affections of the people.
On the death of Henry, Stephen landed in England before the news could reach Matilda; and though the gates of Dover and Canterbury were shut against him, he passed on without hesitation to London, where a majority of the people saluted him king with acclamations. By the assistance of his brother, the Bishop of Winchester, Stephen obtained possession of the royal treasure in that city, amounting to £100,000 in money, besides considerable stores of plate and jewels. The next step was to secure the goodwill and co-operation of the clergy; and in this respect his brother, the bishop, again rendered aid. Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, chief functionary of the kingdom, was secured by bribes and promises, and these two ecclesiastics endeavoured to prevail upon William, Archbishop of Canterbury, to administer the royal unction to the usurper. The primate, who was a conscientious man, refused consent, and a dishonourable expedient was then resorted to to overcome his opposition. Hugh Bigod, steward of the royal household, presented himself before the archbishop, and swore that King Henry, on his death-bed, had disinherited his daughter Matilda, who had offended him, and that he had appointed his nephew Stephen to succeed him as the inheritor of his kingdom.
These oaths--common in the Middle Ages, and of little real security when opposed to personal interests--were nevertheless regarded nominally as of considerable weight; and a pretext, therefore, was necessary for absolving the clergy and the barons from their vows of allegiance to Matilda. This was supplied by Roger of Salisbury, who declared that those vows were null and void, because the empress had been married out of the country without the consent of the lords, who had expressly stipulated that their opinion should be consulted in the disposal of the hand of their future queen.
The several obstacles being thus overcome or set aside, the Archbishop of Canterbury crowned Stephen (December 26, 1135) at Westminster. Very few nobles attended the ceremony, but there was no show of opposition. The first act of the new king was to proceed to Reading to attend the burial of his uncle, and from thence he passed on to Oxford, where he held court, and summoned thither a council of the prelates and clergy of the kingdom, whom he required to swear allegiance to him. He permitted the clergy to annex to their oaths an important condition, to the effect that they swore to support his government only so long as he should maintain the rights and liberties of the Church. The barons also obtained the right of fortifying castles upon their estates.
These concessions to the Church secured the favour of the Pope, Innocent II., who soon afterwards sent letters to Stephen, confirming his title to the throne. The words of the Pontiff were as follows:--"We have heard that thou hast been chosen by the common voice and will of the people and of the lords, and that thou hast received a blessing from the ministers of the Church. Considering that the choice of so large a number of men must have been directed by Divine grace, and that, moreover, thou art closely related to the deceased king, we are well pleased with the course taken in thy behalf; and we receive thee with paternal affection as a son of the blessed Apostle Peter, and of the holy Roman Church."
Still further to secure his position, Stephen passed a charter closely resembling that issued under similar circumstances by his predecessor. He endeavoured to conciliate all the estates of the realm: to the clergy he promised that vacant benefices should immediately be filled up, and that their revenues should in no case be applied to the purposes of the crown; to the nobility he pledged his word that the royal forests, which Henry had appropriated to himself, should be restored to their ancient boundaries; and to the people he engaged to remit the tax of Danegeld, and to restore the laws of King Edward. Stephen also made lavish gifts of money and lands to those about him, and during the first year of his reign the land rejoiced once more in plenty and prosperity.
Matilda and her husband Geoffrey experienced no better fortune in Normandy than in England. The Norman nobility were influenced by the same reasons as formerly, in desiring a continuance of their union with the crown of England; while, at the same time, an hereditary animosity existed between them and the people of Anjou. When Geoffrey Plantagenet entered Normandy for the purpose of enforcing the rights of his wife Matilda, the Normans applied for assistance to Theobald of Blois, eldest brother of Stephen (1136). As soon as Stephen obtained possession of the English throne, they transferred their allegiance to him, and put him in possession of the government of the duchy. The homage which, as feudal sovereign, was due to Louis VII., King of France, he accepted from Eustace, Stephen's eldest son, instead of from the English king himself; and Louis also betrothed his sister Constantia to the young prince. The Count of Blois consented to resign his claim for a yearly pension of 2,000 marks, and Geoffrey of Anjou was compelled to conclude a truce of two years with Stephen, receiving also a pension of 5,000 marks.
Robert of Gloucester, the natural son of Henry, entertained the strongest feelings of hostility to Stephen. He appears, however, to have directed his efforts against the usurper rather in support of the claims of his sister Matilda, than of any pretensions of his own. On the elevation of Stephen to the throne, Robert found it necessary to take the oath of allegiance, since a refusal to do so would have resulted in the loss of his estates in England, and of that power which he proposed to use in his sister's behalf. He therefore offered to do homage on condition that the king fulfilled all his promises, and never invaded any of the rights of Robert. Thus a pretext was afforded for revolt at any moment, and the Earl of Gloucester, who was a man of considerable abilities and military reputation, occupied himself in promoting a spirit of disaffection among the nobles. The right which the English barons had obtained of erecting fortified castles was exercised to the utmost. Strong fortresses rapidly arose in all parts of the kingdom, and were garrisoned with licentious soldiery, native and foreign.
In proportion as the privileges of the nobles were extended, the condition of the people became once more one of oppression and misery. Petty wars broke out among the rival barons, who made incursions into each others' territories, and practised unbounded rapine on the towns and villages. Some of the more powerful chiefs declared that the promises made to them by Stephen on his accession had not been fulfilled; and they seized various parts of the royal estates, which they asserted were their due. Among these was Hugh Bigod, whose act of perjury had secured the coronation of Stephen, and who now revolted openly against the king, and took possession of Norwich Castle.
The insurgents had not yet learned to act in concert, and Stephen soon recovered the estates which had been seized. The spirit of sedition, however, was not repressed; new disturbances were continually taking place, and the country remained in a state of anarchy.
In the year 1137, Robert, Earl of Gloucester, having organised an extensive confederacy, quitted his estates, and having crossed the Channel, sent to the king a formal letter of defiance. Other great barons also, on the ground that the promises made to them had not been fulfilled, renounced their homage, and retired to their strongholds. A desultory warfare took place between the king and his disaffected nobles.
In March, 1138, David, King of Scotland, crossed the Tweed at the head of an army which he had collected from every part of his kingdom, to defend the title of his niece, Matilda. The chroniclers describe the Scottish army as a barbarous multitude, many of whom, gathered from the recesses of the Highlands, were fierce and untutored, half clad, and with only the rudest weapons of war. This undisciplined host passed through Northumberland into Yorkshire, devastating the country, and committing unheard of barbarities upon the miserable inhabitants. It is related of them that they behaved after the manner of wild beasts, slaying all who came in their way, sparing neither old age in its helplessness, nor beauty in its spring, nor the infant in the womb.
The fury of these massacres exasperated the northern nobility, who might otherwise have been disposed to join the King of Scotland. Thurstan, Archbishop of York, an aged man, seemed to derive new youth from the crisis which demanded the exertion of his energies. He shook off the weight of years and, organising an army, he earnestly exhorted the barons and the soldiers to defend their countrymen from the ravages of the invaders. William, Earl of Albemarle, Roger Mowbray, Robert de Ferrers, William Piercy, Walter L'Espec, and others of their compeers, assembled their troops, and encamped at Elfer-tun, now called Northallerton, about half-way between York and Durham, and there awaited the arrival of the enemy. The advance of the Scots had been so rapid that Stephen, who was occupied with repressing the rebellion in the south, had no time to reach the scene of action.
The Scottish army, the first division of which was led by Prince Henry, son of David, crossed the Tees in several divisions, bearing as a standard a lance, to which was fixed a bunch of "blooming heather." They did not form, as was the case with more disciplined armies, distinct bodies of horse and foot, but each man brought to the field of battle such arms as he could obtain. With the exception of the French or Norman knights, whom the King of Scotland brought with him, and who were armed cap-à-pie with complete suits of mail, the mass of his soldiers displayed a disorderly equipment. The men of Galloway and other parts of the west wore no defensive armour, and bore long sharp pikes or javelins as their only weapon. The inhabitants of the lowlands, who formed the chief part of the infantry, were armed with spears and breastplates; while the Highlanders, who wore a bonnet adorned with plumes, and a plaid cloak fastened at the waist by a leathern belt, appeared in the fight with a small wooden shield on the left arm, while in the right hand they bore the claymore or broadsword. The chiefs wore the same armour as their soldiers, from whom they were distinguished only by the length of their plumes.
The Anglo-Norman barons, anxious to invoke on their behalf the ancient superstitions of the English, caused the banners of St. Peter of York, St. John of Beverley, and St. Wilfrid of Ripon, to be brought from the churches in which they had remained since the time of the Conqueror, and erected them in the midst of the camp. The mast of a ship was set up in a car with four wheels; at the top of the mast was fixed a crucifix, attached to which was a silver box, containing the sacramental wafer, or eucharist, and round it were hung the banners of the three English saints.
This standard, from which the battle has taken its name, was erected in the centre of the position. The knights of the English army were ranged beside it, having first sworn to remain united, and to defend the sacred symbol to the death. The Archbishop of York, who was prevented by illness from appearing in the field, sent a representative in the person of Ranulph, Bishop of Durham, who, as the Scots were heard approaching, placed himself at the foot of the standard and read the prayer of absolution, the whole army kneeling before him. The attack was made by the men of Galloway, who rushed impetuously on the English infantry and broke their ranks; the cavalry, however, remained firm round their standard, and repulsed the charges of the Scots with great slaughter. Meanwhile the bowmen of Yorkshire and Lincolnshire rallied from their confusion, and poured in flights of arrows upon the enemy, while the Norman knights, protected by their heavy armour, were receiving the attacks of the brave but undisciplined natives of the north. The Scots maintained the contest for two hours, but at length they were thrown into confusion by a charge of the Norman cavalry, and were compelled to retreat as far as the Tyne. At the battle of Northallerton, which was fought on the 22nd of August, 1138, the loss of the Scots is stated to have been 12,000 men.
Three days after this defeat, the King of Scotland arrived at Carlisle, where he rallied his scattered forces, and subsequently laid siege to Wark Castle, which fell into his hands. Notwithstanding the result of the Battle of the Standard, the counties of Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Northumberland remained for many years free from Norman dominion, and attached to the kingdom of Scotland.
Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, the story of whose elevation to the favour of Henry I. has been already related, was at this time possessed of vast wealth and influence in the kingdom. He was a munificent patron of the arts, and expended large sums in the erection of magnificent churches and other public works. Architects, artists, and men of letters were secure of his favour, and the wealth, which was often obtained by not the most honest means, was at least bestowed in a manner beneficial to the age in which he lived. Roger had rendered good service to Stephen at the time of his accession to the throne, and the king had rewarded him with repeated and valuable gifts. It would appear, however, that these possessions were heaped upon the bishop, less for his own use than with the view of being available for the royal purposes whenever the king might choose to seize upon them.
The nobles of the court had not witnessed without envy the increasing power and magnificence of the Bishop of Salisbury; and at the time when Stephen was menaced by an invasion from the Continent they circulated a report that the bishop was in league with the conspirators. The king, who wanted money, was glad of a pretext for seizing the possessions of Roger, and ordered him to be arrested, together with his two nephews, Alexander, Bishop of Lincoln, and Nigel, Bishop of Ely. Nigel made his escape, and took refuge in the castle of Devizes, but Roger and Alexander were captured, and confined in separate dungeons. A quarrel which had previously taken place between some of the bishop's retainers and those of the Count of Brittany formed the ground of the chief accusation, which was that the bishops had violated the peace of the king within the limits of his court. Stephen demanded the surrender of all their castles as an atonement for the offence; and, after considerable opposition on the part of the two bishops, the demand was generally complied with. The Bishop of Ely, however, still refused to surrender the castle of Devizes; and Stephen commanded that Roger and the Bishop of Lincoln should receive no food until the castle was given up. By the king's order Roger appeared, wasted with fasting, before the gates of Devizes, and implored his nephew to surrender, and after a delay of three days the Bishop of Ely at length yielded, to save the lives of his relatives.
These proceedings excited the utmost indignation among the prelates and clergy of the kingdom, and Henry, Bishop of Winchester, who had been appointed legate of the Pope, cited his brother, the king, to appear before an ecclesiastical synod at Winchester to answer for his conduct. Alberic de Vere attended before the council as the substitute of Stephen, and the bishops having persisted in demanding reparation for the insult to the Church, De Vere appealed in the king's name to the Pope, and, drawing his sword, declared the assembly to be dissolved. A series of disasters, which soon after endangered the life and crown of Stephen, were, in a great measure, to be referred to this determined opposition to the clergy. The synod at Winchester was held in September 1139, and three months afterwards, Roger, Bishop of Salisbury, died at an advanced age, his end having probably been accelerated by the mortifications he had suffered.
On the 22nd of September, in the same year, the Empress Matilda landed in England, accompanied by Robert, Earl of Gloucester. The latter immediately proceeded with a small escort to the castle of Bristol, where he occupied himself in collecting his followers. Matilda joined him after a short stay in Arundel Castle.
Civil war now raged throughout the country. The Norman race in England was immediately split up into two factions, and each man looked with distrust upon his neighbour, uncertain whether to regard him as a friend or an enemy. Many of the barons of the west and north declared for Matilda, and recalled the oaths they had taken to Stephen; while many of the more rapacious lords, to whom the public good was a matter of no concern, kept aloof from both parties, and occupied themselves with seizing the property of farmers and citizens. The chronicles of the time are filled with accounts of the atrocities which were committed at this period throughout the length and breadth of the land, which was desolated in every direction by violence and rapine.
Stephen having failed in an attempt to take the town of Bristol, which was strongly fortified, turned his forces to the east, where a formidable insurrection had broken out, headed by the Bishop of Ely. On the very spot where Hereward, the Saxon, had erected his fort of wood, a camp was formed by the Norman adherents of Matilda, who entrenched themselves behind ramparts of stone and wood. Stephen conducted his attack in the same manner as had been done by William the Conqueror. He built bridges of boats, by which his soldiers passed over, and put to flight the troops of Nigel.
The bishop fled to Gloucester, where Matilda had assembled the greater number of her adherents. During the absence of Stephen in the east, the flames of revolt were raging throughout the west, and churches as well as castles were fortified by the insurgents for the purposes of defence. The bishops are said not to have scrupled to take part in these military operations: they were seen, as in the time of the Conqueror, mounted on chargers, and clad in suits of mail, bearing a lance or a truncheon in their hands, directing the attacks of the soldiers, and drawing lots for a share of the booty.
In 1141 Stephen displayed the utmost activity in marching against his enemies. After having crossed and recrossed the country, he appeared before the castle of Lincoln, which was in the hands of the adherents of Matilda. The townspeople, however, favoured the king's cause, and, in opposition to the garrison, assisted him to lay siege to the fortress. Meanwhile the Earl of Gloucester had collected an army of 10,000 men, and in the hope of effecting a surprise, marched rapidly to Lincoln, and appeared before the besieging troops. Stephen, however, had been apprised of his coming, and having drawn up his forces in battle array, placed himself at their head. The contest was unequal; most of the royal cavalry deserted to the enemy, and many of the other troops wavered in their allegiance. In such a case defeat was inevitable. Stephen fought with valour, but after having broken his sword and battle-axe, he was made prisoner by the Earl of Gloucester.
This defeat was disastrous to the royal cause. Many of the Norman nobles and of the clergy, among whom was Henry of Winchester, the king's own brother, gave in their adhesion to the cause of Matilda. The support of the bishop is said to have been gained by a promise on the part of the empress that he should be placed in the position of her chief minister, and should have the disposal of all the vacant benefices of the Church. On the day after this bargain was concluded, the granddaughter of the Conqueror made her triumphal entry into Winchester. She was received at the gates by Bishop Henry, at the head of the clergy, who conducted her to the cathedral; and the brother of Stephen pronounced a blessing upon all who should follow her cause, and a curse on those who should oppose it.
Having taken possession of the royal treasure which remained at Winchester, Matilda, after some delay, proceeded to London, where she arrived at midsummer. She was of English descent, and the unhappy citizens, ground down by taxation, hoped to obtain from her some release of the burdens with which they were oppressed. But Matilda's good fortune soon rendered her disdainful and arrogant; and it is said by an old historian that when those men to whom she owed her elevation bowed down before her, she did not rise from her throne, and their requests were frequently met by a refusal. It is, therefore, scarcely matter for surprise that, when the citizens of London entreated her to take pity on them, she answered with a frown, and one of her first acts was to impose a heavy tax, or tallage, in addition to the burdens with which they were already afflicted. The empress seems to have possessed a malignant nature, which found vent in injuries inflicted equally on friends and enemies. Henry of Winchester, who may have felt some compunction at the part he had acted towards his brother, desired that his nephew Eustace, the son of Stephen, might be put in possession of his hereditary foreign rights. Matilda, instead of trying to make a compact, replied to the request with an insulting denial. Many other acts of arrogance, as impolitic in a queen as they were disgraceful in a woman, were exhibited towards her best friends; and when Maud, the wife of Stephen, who was Matilda's own cousin, appeared in her presence and begged that her husband might be restored to liberty, the empress drove the sorrowing wife away in tears.
Matilda was making ready for her coronation in perfect security, when a rising of the people, as sudden as it was unanimous, resulted in driving her from London in the utmost haste, and without even so much as a change of raiment. An alarm sounded from all the steeples of the city, and immediately every street was filled with an excited multitude of people. From the doors of every house men came forth, armed with such weapons as they could procure. The empress and her Angevins (that is, people of Anjou), startled by the suddenness of the attack, and not daring to risk a conflict where the numbers were so greatly against them, and which would have to be carried on in narrow streets, where every advantage would be on the side of their enemies--made no resistance, but hastily seized horses and galloped off at full speed. Matilda had scarcely quitted the town, when the enraged populace forced their way into her apartments, and seized or destroyed whatever they found there.
As the ex-empress sped on her way, the barons and knights who accompanied her one by one detached themselves from the escort, and, consulting their own safety, fled across the country or along cross-roads towards their strongholds. She arrived at Oxford with the Earl of Gloucester and a few followers, whom motives of policy, or a regard for their knightly honour, still held attached to her fortunes. The citizens of London attempted no pursuit of the fugitives. Their revolt appears to have been a sudden outbreak of popular indignation rather than the result of any preconcerted arrangement, and was not followed by any further measures of a similar kind. The Norman adherents of King Stephen soon afterwards re-entered London, and having obtained the consent of the citizens, by the promise of an alliance with them, garrisoned the city with troops. The only privileges obtained by the citizens in consequence of the insurrection were the permission of enlistment to the number of one thousand men, and of fighting in the cause of the king, wearing a helmet and hauberk. Queen Maud, the wife of Stephen, proceeded to London, and there held court. She was a woman of gentle and amiable character; but her lot was cast in evil times, and she displayed the energy and courage of a man in her efforts to obtain her husband's liberation.
The Bishop of Winchester, whom Matilda, in her short day of power, had so grievously offended, no sooner perceived the tide of fortune turning against the empress, than he deserted her cause, and once more declared himself in favour of his brother. He hoisted the banner of Stephen on the walls of Winchester Castle, and on his palace, which had been fortified with all the engineering skill of the age. Other castles within his diocese, including those of Waltham and Farnham, were strongly garrisoned. An interview took place at Guildford between the bishop and his sister-in-law, Queen Maud, whose entreaties probably removed any hesitation he might feel as to his course of action.
Matilda, having become aware of these transactions, sent the bishop a haughty message to appear immediately in her presence. The prelate sent back the messenger with the answer that he was "making himself ready for her"--an expression which had a double meaning. Matilda marched with her followers to Winchester; but the bishop, leaving his palace defended by a strong garrison, quitted the town as she entered it, and proceeded to place himself at the head of his vassals, and of the knights who had agreed to fight under his standard. The castle of Winchester was given up to Matilda, and she summoned around her those barons who still adhered to her cause. Among these were Robert of Gloucester, the Earl of Chester, the Earl of Hereford, and David, King of Scotland, uncle to the empress.
The troops under these leaders laid siege to the episcopal palace, which stood in the heart of the city. The bishop's garrison having set fire to the adjoining houses, which might have served as places of defence to the assailants, retired into their fortress, and waited for succour. Meanwhile the Bishop of Winchester had received an accession of strength from the troops of Queen Maud, among whom were the citizens of London, to the number, as already mentioned, of one thousand. Marching rapidly to Winchester, the bishop surprised the troops of the empress, who were compelled to entrench themselves in the churches, while Matilda herself, with her chief nobles, took refuge in the castle. Thus besiegers were in turn besieged; the sanctuary was not respected by the warlike Bishop of Winchester, and the churches were burnt down in order to force the occupants from their places of refuge. The unhappy inhabitants suffered extreme misery while this murderous warfare was going on in their streets; they were plundered by both of the opposing factions, their goods seized without redress, and their homes burnt down or ransacked.
The castle, which was completely surrounded by the troops of the bishop, sustained a siege of six weeks, by which time the provisions of the garrison were exhausted. A daring expedient was determined upon by the empress as the alternative of an unconditional surrender. The 14th of September, 1141, was the feast of the Holy Rood or Cross, on which, as on other festivals of the church, it was the custom for antagonists in the field to desist from hostilities. At daybreak on that day, when the besieging troops were asleep or engaged in preparing for their devotions, Matilda stole out from the castle, accompanied by her brother, the Earl of Gloucester, and a small but chosen escort. Mounted on fleet horses they made their way through the troops of the bishop, and fled at full speed along the road to Devizes. A hot pursuit was immediately set on foot, and the fugitives were overtaken in the neighbourhood of Stourbridge. Finding escape impossible, the Earl of Gloucester and the knights who were with him turned upon their pursuers and kept them at bay, while the empress urged on her horse and arrived in safety at Devizes. After a gallant resistance the earl and several of his companions were taken prisoners.
About a month after the capture of the Earl of Gloucester, a treaty was concluded between the belligerents, by the terms of which the king was exchanged for the earl, and thus the leaders of both armies regained their liberty. Stephen resumed his title and the exercise of the royal authority over the eastern and midland counties, which were the parts of the country in the possession of his adherents. Normandy no longer acknowledged the rule of the English king. During his imprisonment the duchy had submitted to Geoffrey of Anjou, who soon afterwards resigned it in favour of his eldest son Henry.
During this time the country wore an aspect of woe and desolation. All kinds of depredations were committed by the soldiers of Brabant, the Flemings, and other foreigners, with whom the land was overrun; while the Anglo-Norman nobles raised funds for the expenses of the civil war by selling their English estates together with the miserable inhabitants. So great was the terror excited among the people by this state of things, that we are told that a considerable body of them would take to flight at the sight of three or four horsemen. Stories dark and dread were currently reported of cruelties practised by the Normans upon those who fell into their power. Those prisoners who were suspected to possess property of any kind were subjected to unheard of tortures to compel them to give up their hoards. Some were suspended by the feet, while fumes of smoke were made to ascend about their heads; others were tied at some distance from the ground by the thumbs, while their feet were scorched by fire; or were thrown into pits filled with reptiles of different kinds; sometimes they suffered the dislocation of their limbs in what was called the chambre à crucir:[29] this was a chest lined with sharp-pointed stones, in which the victim was fastened up.[30] Many of the castles contained a room or dungeon specially set apart for these purposes, and filled with instruments of torture, and with iron chains so heavy that it required two or three men to lift them. "You might have journeyed," says the authority already quoted, "a whole day without seeing a living person in the towns, or in the country one field in a state of tillage. The poor perished with hunger, and many who once possessed property now begged food from door to door. Every man who had the power quitted England. Never were greater sorrows poured upon this land."
Alarmed at the increasing power of Stephen, Matilda sent the Earl of Gloucester to her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, entreating him to bring his forces to her aid. The earl replied that his presence was necessary in his own dominions, but expressed his willingness to send his son, Prince Henry, in his stead. Some months' delay ensued, and then Henry, with the earl, his uncle, quitted Normandy with an inconsiderable force, and effected a landing in England.
Meanwhile, Stephen, having recovered from his illness, collected an army and laid siege to the city of Oxford, where Matilda had assembled her followers (1142). The town fell into his hands almost immediately, and was set on fire by the royal troops. The empress had retreated into the castle, which was a place of great strength; but it proved to be insufficiently victualled. The fortress was surrounded and cut off from all supplies from without, and after a siege of three months the empress found herself compelled to make her escape in the same manner as before.
One night in December, when the ground was covered with snow, Matilda quitted the castle at midnight, attended by four knights, who, as well as herself, were clothed in white. The party passed through the lines of their enemies entirely unobserved, and crossed the Thames, which was frozen over. The adventurous daughter of Henry I. then pursued her way, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, to Wallingford, where she joined the army of her son and the Earl of Gloucester.
After having taken Oxford Castle, Stephen encountered the forces of the Earl of Gloucester at Wilton, and was defeated, the king himself having a narrow escape of a second imprisonment. A desultory warfare ensued, which lasted during three years, without any important advantage to either side. Prince Henry remained during this time at Bristol Castle, in the company of his uncle, the Earl of Gloucester, and in 1147 returned to Normandy. Soon after his departure, Robert of Gloucester died of an illness resulting from alternate excesses and privations. Deprived of the aid of her half-brother, who had governed her affairs with undoubted ability, Matilda found her position become every day less secure. One by one her most faithful partisans fell away, stricken down by disease, or weary of the contest; and among those who died was the Earl of Hereford, one of the ablest and most powerful defenders of her cause. At length the ex-empress determined to pass over into Normandy, there to concert with her husband and her son fresh measures for renewing the struggle. Emboldened by her absence, Stephen made vigorous attempts to re-establish his power upon a firm basis; and for this purpose he endeavoured by stratagem, as well as by force, to obtain possession of various strongholds which had been seized and fortified by the barons. The efforts thus made to reduce these haughty chiefs to submission met with little success, and the king's own adherents were ill-disposed to support a policy which they foresaw might one day be extended to themselves.
On the death of Innocent II. (September 24, 1144), the office of Legate of the Holy See was transferred from the Bishop of Winchester to Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury. The archbishop, having proceeded to the Council of Rheims in opposition to the royal command, was banished from the court.
This impolitic act of Stephen was attended by consequences which show the extraordinary power possessed by the clergy over the rude and licentious men of that age. Hugh Bigod, the Earl of Norfolk, one of the adherents of Matilda, received the exiled prelate under his protection; and Theobald issued a sentence of excommunication against all the followers of the king, and the royal domain was declared without the pale of the Church.
While it is probable that the interdict of the Archbishop of Canterbury did not interfere materially with the offices of charity and mercy which, in addition to those of religion, were performed by the monks, it is, nevertheless, easy to understand why such a proclamation might be attended with serious inconvenience even to that part of the laity which cared nothing for the services of religion. The discontent throughout the country became so loud that Stephen was compelled to make overtures to the archbishop for a reconciliation. After some delay, the primate accepted the terms, and the ban of the church was removed from the royal domains. The king, who in the interval had learnt the expediency of securing the favour and adhesion of the clergy, made large donations to the churches and monasteries, and promised to extend these gifts, and add to them certain important privileges as soon as the kingdom should be placed in a condition of peace and security.
Two years after the reconciliation with the archbishop, Stephen convened at London a general assembly of the higher ecclesiastics, and demanded that his eldest son, Eustace, should with their authority be acknowledged as successor to the throne. The bishops, headed by the Archbishop of Canterbury, refused positively to comply with this demand. As the legate of Rome, the archbishop had communicated with the Pope on the subject, and had received for answer that Stephen was a usurper, and had not the right possessed by legitimate sovereigns of transmitting the crown to a successor. Exasperated by a refusal which followed his efforts at conciliation, Stephen ordered the bishops to be placed under arrest, and their benefices to be seized. This, however, was only a temporary outburst of anger, and appears to have been to some extent justified by the open defiance given by the prelates to the sovereign to whom they had sworn allegiance.
The king soon found himself menaced by further dangers from Normandy. In 1149, Prince Henry, the son of Matilda, had landed in Scotland attended by a retinue of knights and nobles, for the purpose of receiving the order of knighthood from his relative the King of Scotland. David, at that time, held his court at Carlisle; and Henry, who had just attained his sixteenth year, received his spurs at that place in the presence of a vast assemblage of barons from various parts of England, as well as from Scotland and Normandy. The gallant bearing and character of the young prince produced the most favourable effect upon those who witnessed the ceremony, and was afterwards contrasted with that of the son of Stephen, to the disadvantage of the latter. Henry, having returned to Normandy in the year 1150, was placed in possession of the government of that duchy, and on the death of his father, Geoffrey Plantagenet, which took place immediately afterwards, the prince received the earldom of Anjou. This province was said to be conferred upon him with the stipulation that he should resign it in favour of his younger brother on the day when he should become king; but the legality of the will was doubtful.
In 1152 Henry married Eleanor, the divorced wife of Louis VII. of France and daughter of William, Duke of Aquitaine and Count of Poitou. According to the laws of these provinces, Eleanor succeeded her father in the exercise of sovereignty, and her husband, though a foreigner, shared the same rights. Eleanor was married, in 1137, to Louis, King of France, who exercised control over her domains so long as he remained united to her, and he garrisoned the towns of Aquitaine with soldiers and officers of his own. The queen had given birth to two daughters, and the union had lasted several years without interruption, when Louis determined to make a pilgrimage to Palestine, and his wife, whose uncle Raymond was Duke of Antioch, accompanied him on the journey. In the account already given of the First Crusade, allusion has been made to the low state of morality which prevailed in the camps, and it would appear that even the Queen of France was not exempt from the evil influences by which she was surrounded. Eleanor, who was possessed of remarkable beauty, displayed great freedom of manners, and she was accused, justly or otherwise, of an improper connection with a young Saracen knight, named Saladin. On the return of the court from the Holy Land, in the year 1152, Louis called a council of the clergy at Beaugency-sur-Loire, and demanded a divorce from his wife. The cause of the king was pleaded by the Bishop of Langres, who offered evidence of the offences committed by the queen. The Archbishop of Bordeaux, however, while assenting to the king's request, proposed that the separation should take place in a manner less fatal to the reputation of Eleanor--namely, on the ground of consanguinity between the parties. It was discovered by the prelates--rather late--that the queen was the cousin of her husband within the prohibited degrees. This, however, was the sole ground on which the laws of the Church permitted a divorce, which, under any circumstances, was only granted to princes.
Eleanor, who regarded her husband as "more a monk than a king," assented readily to a separation; and on the marriage being annulled, she set out for her own domains, and remained for a while in the town of Blois. The repudiated wife seems to have had no want of suitors, and rather found a difficulty in protecting herself from their importunities. Theobald, Count of Blois, the brother of King Stephen, offered her his hand, and having met with a refusal, he detained the duchess a prisoner in his castle, with the determination of marrying her by force. Suspecting his design, Eleanor escaped from the castle by night, descended the Loire in a boat, and reached the city of Tours, which then belonged to the duchy of Anjou.
Geoffrey of Anjou, the second son of Matilda, hearing of the arrival of the duchess, and tempted, probably, by her vast possessions, determined also to make her his wife, and placed himself in ambush at the Port de Piles on the Loire, to intercept her as she passed, and carry her off. Eleanor, however, "warned by her good angel," turned aside and took the road to Poitiers. Here Henry, with more courtesy than his brother or the Count of Blois, presented himself to her, and the offer of his hand being accepted, married her within a few weeks after her divorce (May 18). The conduct of the young prince in this transaction does not appear in a very delicate or chivalrous light; and it is evident that motives of policy alone could have induced him to marry a woman who, however beautiful, was considerably older than himself, and whose reputation was certainly not without stain.
By this alliance Henry received the titles of Duke of Aquitaine and Count of Poitou, in addition to those which he had previously possessed. His domains now nearly equalled in extent those of the French king; and Louis, alarmed at the increase of the Norman power, forbade Henry--who, as Duke of Normandy, was his vassal--to contract the marriage with Eleanor. Henry, however, paid no regard to the prohibition, and the French king was compelled to accept the new vows of homage which the prince now offered him for the territories of Aquitaine and Poitou. These oaths--which were, in fact, little else than matters of form--had been for many years the only bond which remained between the ancient Capetian kings and the lords of those provinces which extended between the Loire and the two seas.
The great and rapid increase of power thus attained by Henry Plantagenet necessarily excited the hopes of his mother, and of her adherents in England, who were gratified by the prospect of renewing the contest with Stephen in favour of a young prince whose gallantry and abilities offered the best prospect of success. The English king foresaw the approaching danger, and had no difficulty in perceiving that Henry would command many more supporters in England than would have ranged themselves under the standard of the haughty Matilda. Stephen, therefore, concluded an alliance with Louis of France, as well as with the Count of Blois, and with Geoffrey of Anjou, Henry's younger brother. The two latter willingly took up arms against one who occupied to both of them the position of a successful rival, and they joined the army which the French king marched into Normandy. Henry, however, made a vigorous defence, and having repulsed the attacks of the French with success, he obtained a truce. Meanwhile the Earl of Chester had arrived in the duchy from England, bearing with him a message from a number of chiefs of the Plantagenet party, who invited Henry to take possession of the throne in his own right. The earl declared this to be the unanimous will of the people; and the prince responded to the call, and, without waiting to organise a large force, immediately set sail for England. The army with which he landed numbered about 140 knights, and 3,000 infantry; it was composed, however, of picked men, and was well disciplined. Many of the barons of the kingdom immediately joined his standard, bringing with them considerable reinforcements; and Henry marched his forces to Wallingford for the purpose of giving battle to the king. Meanwhile Stephen had made great exertions to oppose his adversary, and endeavoured, by bribes and other means, to detach the barons from his cause. Some of the latter who had declared for Henry, no sooner heard with what a small force he had ventured into England, than they returned to the side of the king. The war between the opposing factions was carried on in the same manner as before--castles were besieged and taken, and towns carried by assault, plundered, and burnt. The English, driven from their homes, or flying from them in terror, built huts under the walls of the churches, in the hope that the sacredness of the place would protect them from outrage and plunder. No such considerations, however, restrained the belligerents, who expelled the people from their sanctuary, and turned the churches into fortresses. On the steeples, whence the sweet sounds of bells were wont to give the call to prayer, were now placed the frowning engines of war.
The army of Stephen, which had marched from London, occupied the left bank of the Thames at Wallingford, opposite to the troops of Henry. The opposing forces remained in this position during two whole days without coming to an engagement, and during the pause which thus took place negotiations were entered into between the two princes. It would appear that even the Norman nobles had become tired of the horrors of a civil war which had lasted fifteen years, and the Earl of Arundel did not hesitate to say that it was unreasonable that the calamities of the nation should be continued further through the ambition of two princes. Other lords on both sides expressed the same sentiments, and entreated the king and the prince to meet together for the purpose of arranging terms of peace.
An interview took place between the two chiefs, who conversed with each other across a narrow part of the river Thames, and ultimately agreed to desist from hostilities, pending the conclusion of a treaty which was to be arranged at a general council of the kingdom. Prince Eustace, the only son of Stephen, was seized with indignation at the prospect of an arrangement which would probably exclude him from the throne, and, instantly quitting his father's presence, he proceeded into Cambridgeshire, recklessly determining to maintain his right by arms. Having gathered together a band of lawless followers, he seized possession of the abbey of St. Edmund, ejected the monks, and placed there his headquarters. He occupied himself in plundering the neighbourhood, and the property so obtained was expended in rioting and other excesses. This state of things, however, was of short duration. One day, when the prince was seated at a banquet, he was seized with a sudden and violent illness, or frenzy, of which he died. The memory of St. Edmund, king and martyr, was held in the highest veneration by the English people, and the death of the prince was attributed by them to the vengeance of Heaven, provoked by the outrage he had committed upon the sanctuary of the saint.
Stephen now had less difficulty in agreeing to terms which would be acceptable to Henry. The king had, indeed, one son remaining, but he was too young to be aware of how much his interests were concerned in the arrangements about to be made. The council of the kingdom was held at Winchester, November 7th, 1153, and it was finally determined that Stephen should retain the throne during his life, and that after his death the succession should devolve upon Henry and his heirs. This treaty was sworn to by the clergy, nobles, and knights of both parties, and is described by different writers in different points of view. It is worthy of remark that we find the various boroughs regarded in connection with this treaty as of some importance, and that they were called upon to take the oaths of allegiance in the same manner as the barons. The officers of the most important of the royal castles gave hostages to Henry for the surrender of those strongholds to him when the king's death should take place.
The treaty having been concluded, Henry and Stephen made a progress together through the country, visiting the cities of London, Winchester, and Oxford. Everywhere they were received with unfeigned joy by the people, who, whatever might have been their sentiments with respect to either prince, welcomed the chance which placed them side by side with sheathed swords.
Henry proceeded to the Continent at the time of Lent, 1154, and in the month of October in the same year Stephen died at Dover, in the fiftieth year of his age, and the nineteenth of his reign. He was buried at the monastery of Faversham, in Kent, and his tomb was afterwards destroyed when the monasteries were suppressed by the command of Henry VIII.
XVII. THE REIGN OF HENRY II
Accession of Henry Plantagenet--Royal Entry into Winchester--Expulsion of the Flemings--Henry's Dealings with the Baron--Siege of Bridgenorth Castle--The King's Quarrel with Geoffrey--Henry's Magnificence--War with, and Submission of, the Welsh--The King in Brittany--Alarm of the King of France at Henry's Schemes of Aggrandisement--Henry's Designs on Toulouse--Origin of Scutage--Peace with Louis--The People of Languedoc--Louis' Third Marriage--Fresh Rupture between the Two Kings--Marriage of Henry's Son and Louis' Daughter--The Two Popes--Renewed Reconciliation.
At the time of the death of Stephen, Henry was engaged in a desultory warfare against some of his rebellious vassals in Guienne. Secure in the strength of his party in England, and in the certainty that his succession would not be disputed, he remained in France to bring the affairs in which he was engaged to a successful termination, and then proceeded to take possession of the vacant throne. The news of his arrival, which took place six weeks after the death of Stephen, was received with general gratification by the people, who were induced to hope, from the lineage as well as from the character of the new king, that his rule would be just and impartial.
The English race, faithful to their old traditions, dwelt with satisfaction upon the English blood which had been transmitted to Henry by his mother, Matilda. They forgot the haughty character of the empress-queen, and remembered only that she and, through her, their new sovereign were descended from Alfred the Great. Writers of the time, who either believed sincerely what they wrote, or were paid to influence the people in favour of their monarch, affirmed that England now once more possessed a king of English race; that already there were many bishops and abbots of the same race, while of chiefs and nobles not a few had sprung from the admixture of Norman and English blood. They therefore held that the hatred hitherto existing between the two races would henceforth rapidly disappear. The opinions thus hopefully expressed were not justified by the actual circumstances, nor were they realised for a considerable time afterwards.
Henry II., however, was fully aware of the support which the Norman dynasty would receive from the intermixture of the two races. He encouraged the popular feeling with regard to his English birth, and evinced no displeasure when the English monks, in describing his genealogy, avoided all allusion to his descent on the father's side. "Thou art a son," they said, "of the most glorious Empress Matilda, whose mother was Matilda, daughter of Margaret, Queen of Scotland, whose father was Edward, son of King Edmund Ironside, who was great grandson of the noble King Alfred." Predictions also were discovered, or invented, tending to raise still further the hopes of the people in the prosperity which would attend the new reign--hopes not destined to be realised. One of these prophecies, couched in the allegorical form in which such dark sayings were usually put forth, was attributed to King Edward the Confessor on his death-bed. That such stories produced their effect upon the minds of men may serve to show the superstitious tendencies of the age. It is related that one of the old chroniclers, in his attempt to reconcile the two races, reproduced a statement copied from a writer still more ancient, to the effect that William the Conqueror was himself descended from Edmund Ironside. "Edmund," said the chronicle, "had, in addition to his two sons, an only daughter, who was banished the country for her licentious conduct, and whose beauty having attracted the attention of Duke Robert of Normandy, she became his mistress, and gave birth to William, surnamed the Bastard."
It was evident that the people had every desire to separate Henry from that hatred which they still cherished towards the Norman race; and they designated him as the corner-stone which was to unite the two walls of the state. On the other hand, the Norman nobles saw their king in his true character as the descendant of the Conqueror, and they knew that their own position was secure in the possession of wealth, power, and civil privileges.
When Henry landed in England, attended by a splendid escort, the people flocked to meet him, and tendered their congratulations. The cavalcade entered the royal city of Winchester, amidst the acclamations of the crowd, Queen Eleanor riding at the king's side. Having received the homage of the barons, the royal party proceeded to London, and on the 19th of December the coronation took place at Westminster.
The first act of the new king was to assemble a council, at which a royal decree was issued promising to the people of London those rights which they had enjoyed under the reign of Henry I., and the laws which that king had restored. Stephen was declared to have been a usurper, and all the institutions originated by him were at once abolished. Measures were taken to suppress the practice of false coining, which had become very common during the late reign, and the general currency having deteriorated, a new coinage was issued of standard weight and purity.
The Brabançons and other foreign mercenaries, who had become established in England during the civil war, had in many cases obtained possession of the castles and domains of the Norman adherents of Matilda, and had been confirmed in their titles by Stephen. The Norman nobles found themselves driven out, and their mansions fortified against them in the same manner that they themselves had seized the dwellings of the Saxons. When, therefore, the Brabançons and the Flemings were expelled by Henry, the whole of the Anglo-Normans experienced great exultation.
"We saw them," says Ralph de Diceto, a contemporary writer, "re-cross the sea, called back from the camp to the field, and from the sword to the plough; and those who had been lords were compelled to return to their old condition of serfs." The Normans who thus made a jest of the humble origin of the Flemings, conveniently enough forgot that their own fathers had quitted occupations of a similar kind to follow the fortunes of the Conqueror not a hundred years before. The men of the dominant race, who had acquired titles and estates in England, had driven from their minds all recollection of their former condition, and of the means by which their present eminence was obtained, although few of them could bear a favourable comparison in these respects with the later usurpers whom they delighted to revile. The English, however, did not forget the humble origin of their oppressors, and, according to Roger of Hoveden, they were accustomed to say of an arrogant earl or bishop of Norman origin, "He torments and goads us in the same manner that his grandfather used to beat the oxen at the plough."
The grants of land which had been made during the reign of Stephen had impoverished the state to such an extent that the revenues were inadequate to the support of the crown. Various gifts also had been made during the brief reign of Matilda, who found it necessary to reward her followers in the same manner as had been done by Stephen. Soon after the truce between Henry and the late king, a treaty had been signed at Winchester, according to which Stephen agreed to resume possession of the royal domains, which had been given to the nobles or taken by them forcibly; the only exceptions being grants of land to the Church and to Prince William, the surviving son of the king.
The provisions of this treaty had, however, not been carried out; and Henry, who had pressing need of money, and, at the same time, was determined to curb the growing power of the barons, called a council, and demanded the right to resume the domains of the crown. The council, on receiving the representations made to them of the king's necessities, gave their consent to the measure, and Henry placed himself at the head of a considerable force, for the purpose of expelling those barons who might refuse obedience to the order of the council. In this manner he passed through the country, reducing the fortresses one by one and, as fast as they came into his hands, causing them to be levelled with the ground. The castle of Bridgenorth, which was in the possession of Hugh de Mortimer, was stoutly defended by that chieftain; and during the siege, which lasted for some weeks, the king's life was saved by the self-devotion of one of his vassals. Henry was directing the attack in person, and had incautiously ventured under the castle walls, when an archer was observed taking aim at him. Hubert de St. Clair, one of his followers, immediately threw himself before the king, and received the arrow in his own breast. Henry supported him in his arms, and St. Clair expired in a few moments, entreating the king's protection for his only daughter, a child of tender years. The charge was accepted, and in after years was honourably fulfilled.
After considerable labour and many delays, Henry fully accomplished his designs. He destroyed the castles of Henry of Winchester, the brother of Stephen, who was compelled to quit the country. Other powerful chiefs, including the Earls of Albemarle and Nottingham, were also deprived of their estates; and the King of Scotland resigned his territories in the north of England in return for the earldom of Huntingdon, which was conferred upon him by Henry. It is related that more than 110 castles and strongholds, many of which were in the hands of men who grievously oppressed the people, or of licentious soldiers who lived by plunder, were destroyed in the course of this expedition. This act alone must have been of incalculable benefit to the country, and justified, to some extent, the expectations which had been formed from the character of the new monarch.
In 1156 Geoffrey Plantagenet, the brother of Henry, having called upon him to relinquish the county of Anjou, received a refusal. Henry crossed the Channel with a considerable force, and having done homage to the French king, persuaded him to resign the cause of Geoffrey. The English army, composed of men of English descent, rejoiced at the opportunity of indulging in their long-desired vengeance against the Normans; and they engaged in the war with so much vigour and success that the cause of Geoffrey rapidly lost ground, and he was compelled to sue for terms of peace. A treaty was concluded, by which the younger brother resigned all claim to his lands and the title of the Count of Anjou, in return for a pension of 1,000 English or 2,000 Angevin pounds. In the following year (1157) he was elected to the government of Nantes.
Having reduced his brother to submission, Henry made a progress through his Continental provinces, attended by a splendid retinue, and was received everywhere with acclamations. He surrounded himself with the pomp and magnificence of royalty, in a manner which had never before been witnessed in his dominions, and which was equalled by no other monarch of his time.
Having returned to England in 1157, the king marched an army into Flintshire for the purpose of reducing the Welsh, who still fought bravely for independence, to permanent submission. No opposition was made to his advance until he reached the mountainous district about Coleshill Forest. Here the English troops were suddenly attacked by a large force, while passing through a narrow defile, where it was impossible to form in order of defence. The slaughter was very great. Several wealthy Norman nobles and knights of fame were dragged from their horses, and put to the sword; the Earl of Essex, the royal standard-bearer, threw down the standard and took to flight. Had the king not displayed those military talents which were hereditary in the family of the Conqueror, he would probably have shared the fate of his nobles, and the whole army would have been lost. Henry, however, drew his sword, and rushing into the midst of his flying troops, forced them to turn upon their assailants. Ultimately he fought his way through the pass, and collected his forces together in the open country. Owen Gwynned, a chief of the mountaineers, attempted to decoy him once more among the mountains; but Henry took his way to the sea-coast, and passed along the shore, building castles wherever an opportunity presented itself, and clearing portions of the country from the dense forests with which it was covered.
After a campaign of a few months, the Welsh gave in their submission to the king, and did homage for their territory. On the departure of the invaders, however, the mountaineers resumed their attitude of hostility, and made incursions into the surrounding country, at intervals, for many years afterwards. In consequence of his flight at the battle of Coleshill, the Earl of Essex was publicly accused of treason and cowardice by Robert de Montfort. The question was referred to a trial by arms, or a duel, between the accuser and the accused, in the presence of the king and his court. The Earl of Essex was defeated in the combat; but the king, instead of sentencing him to death, as was customary in such cases, contented himself with seizing the estates of Essex, and condemning him to pass the rest of his life as a monk in Reading Abbey.
On the death of Geoffrey (1158) the city of Nantes fell under the authority of Conan, the hereditary Count of Brittany, who also possessed estates in Yorkshire, with the title of Earl of Richmond. Henry then set up a claim to the free city of Nantes, as a portion of the inheritance to which, as the heir of his brother, he was entitled. Actuated by the prospect of getting possession of the whole of Brittany, and affecting to regard Conan as a usurper, Henry confiscated his estate and title of Richmond. Then crossing the Channel with a large army, the king appeared before the walls of Nantes, and compelled the citizens to expel Conan, and to pay allegiance to himself. Henry then garrisoned the town with a body of his troops, and took possession of the rest of the country between the Loire and the Vilaine.
Anticipating the alarm this great increase of his territory would cause in the French court, Henry sent there as ambassador Thomas Becket, and afterwards followed in person, and a treaty was concluded, by which the French king undertook to maintain his neutrality. Louis, after his divorce from Eleanor, had married Constance of Castile, who had borne to him a daughter. Henry affianced his eldest son to the young princess, who was delivered up to one of the Anglo-Norman barons, and her dower was confided to the custody of the knights of the Temple, to be restored on the celebration of the marriage.
Henry then proceeded to secure the possession of the whole of Brittany by an alliance with Conan, to whose daughter, then but five years old, he affianced his youngest son, Geoffrey, who was only eight years of age. By this treaty Conan was to keep Brittany for his life, on condition that at his death the future husband of his daughter was made heir to his power. The fears of the French king were aroused once more by this alliance, which it was evident would one day place the whole of western France under the power of the Anglo-Normans. Louis attempted to procure the Pope's interdict of the marriage, on the ground that Conan was the descendant of a bastard daughter of the grandfather of Henry II. The Pope Alexander III., however, refused to recognise such consanguinity, and the marriage was celebrated in the year 1166.
Not satisfied with the success which had hitherto attended his schemes of aggrandisement, Henry took proceedings to obtain Toulouse, preferring a claim in right of his wife, which certainly was without any just foundation. William, Duke of Aquitaine, the grandfather of Eleanor, had married Philippa, the only daughter of William, Count of Toulouse. That portion of the Salic law which precluded a female succession being in operation in the country, the father of Philippa sold the province to his brother, Raymond of St. Gilles, whose posterity subsequently held possession of it. At the time of Eleanor's marriage with Louis, she had insisted upon her right to the county of Toulouse, and her husband had marched an army to defend the claim. The count, however, concluded an alliance with Constance, sister of the King of France, and by this means retained possession of his power.
Henry now proclaimed his right to the county on the same ground that Louis had previously preferred. Raymond of St. Gilles, grandson of the contemporary of the Conqueror, prepared to defend his patrimony, and applied for assistance to his brother-in-law, the King of France. While Louis was making ready to take the field, Henry adopted a measure, to which may probably be traced the decline of the feudal system in England. According to the laws, the service of a vassal to his sovereign in the field was limited to forty days--a period which would have been nearly consumed in transporting the English troops to the scene of action. Henry, therefore, determined to levy a sum of money in lieu of the services of his vassals, both in England and Normandy, and to apply the sum so raised to organising a body of troops, which would be free from all authority but his own, and would be ready to follow him without any limit of time. This tax was called the scutage, and amounted to three pounds English, or forty Angevin shillings, for each knight's fee. There are stated to have been 60,000 of these fees in England, which would, therefore, yield £180,000, an immense sum in those days.
The army thus raised by Henry was composed, for the most part, of the infantry of the Low Countries, who were already distinguished for their stubborn resolution and gallantry in combat. The king was accompanied by Thomas Becket, who had lately been made Chancellor of England, and also by Malcolm, King of Scotland, and Raymond, King of Aragon, with whom Henry had formed an alliance. The town of Cahors was quickly reduced, and the English army marched upon Toulouse, which was defended by the citizens under Raymond, in conjunction with a small body of troops which the King of France had marched to their assistance.
Becket, who, although in holy orders, marched in warlike equipments at the head of 700 knights and men-at-arms, displayed great energy in the field. He advised the king to take advantage of the weakness of the garrison, to make an immediate attack upon the place; but Henry, whose audacity was tempered by profound calculation, hesitated to commit an act in direct defiance of those feudal laws in whose support he had himself the strongest interest. As Count of Anjou, Henry was the hereditary Seneschal of France, and he asserted that he could not make an attack upon the troops of his feudal suzerain.
A second French army advancing to the defence of Toulouse, Henry raised the siege, and committing the command of his forces to Becket, returned with a small body of troops into Normandy. Thither the chancellor soon afterwards followed him, having taken possession of a few castles on the banks of the river Garonne. A campaign ensued, which lasted for a few months, on the frontiers of Normandy; and was brought to a conclusion in 1160 by a treaty, according to the terms of which the eldest son of Henry did homage to Louis for the dukedom of Normandy.
The condition of the people of Languedoc and the surrounding country, from this time, began rapidly to decline. Placed between two great powers whose rivalry resulted in frequent acts of hostility, the inhabitants attached themselves first to the cause of one and then to that of another, according to circumstances, and were by each alternately protected and deserted, betrayed and sold. From the time of the twelfth century, the people of the south enjoyed no tranquillity, except when the kings of France and England were at war. "We rejoice," said the troubadours in their songs, "when peace is broken between the Easterlings and Tornes," under which names they described the French and English. They possessed an early civilisation; but they appear to have been too much devoted to the pursuits of pleasure and the dreams of romance to be fitted for self-government. In addition to the disturbances which they suffered from without, they were engaged in perpetual quarrels amongst themselves. They were fond of war, but rather for the excitements it afforded than for the purposes of ambition. They loved the pomp and splendour of the tented field--the armour flashing in the sun--the turmoil and the struggle, the honour and reward. At a word from a fair lady, they were ready to fly off to Palestine, to engage in a quarrel about which they cared little, or were equally willing to risk their lives in hazardous and foolhardy achievements at home. They were a people in whom the gifts of imagination, and a taste for the beautiful in art and nature, were not restrained by prudence. Actuated by no spirit of union or foresight, they were content to bask carelessly in the passing sunshine, regardless of the future.
The peace between Henry and the King of France lasted only one month. The queen, Constance, died without leaving a son, and Louis, anxious to obtain an inheritor of his throne, contracted a union within three weeks afterwards with Adelais, niece of King Stephen and sister of the Count of Blois. By this alliance with his enemies, Henry perceived that his own connection with the French king was endangered, and having secretly obtained the authority of the Pope, he caused the marriage of his son Henry, who was seven years old, and the daughter of Louis, to be immediately solemnised. Henry, then, according to the terms of the treaty, obtained the dowry of the princess from the knights Templars, who were not prepared to resist at once the authority of the Pope and the power of the English king. Louis immediately declared war, and banished the Templars from his kingdom. Henry contented himself with defending his territories from the attacks made upon them until peace was once more concluded, through the intervention of the Pope.
At this period (1162), as had already been the case on a previous occasion, there were two Popes. One of these, Victor IV., occupied the papal chair at Rome, under the protection of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa of Germany; and the other, Alexander III., was living in exile in France. The latter was generally regarded in that country and in England as the legitimate pontiff, and Henry and Louis alike acknowledged his authority, vying with each other in offers of protection and in reverence. It is related by the Norman chronicler that when the two kings met Pope Alexander at the town of Courcy-sur-Loire, they dismounted from their horses, and each taking hold of one of the bridle reins of his mule, walked at his side on foot, and so conducted him to the castle.
The reconciliation thus effected was followed by a brief period of tranquillity, both in England and Normandy, and when the flame of war again broke out, its origin was to be referred to no foreign enemy, but to a man whom Henry had raised to the height of power and dignity.
Chapter XVIII
THE REIGN OF HENRY II. (continued).--CAREER OF THOMAS BECKET.
Early Life of Becket--Rapid Advance in the King's Service--Magnificence of his Embassy to Paris--The King, the Chancellor, and the Beggar--Depravity of the Clergy--Becket's Reforming Zeal--Appointed Archbishop of Canterbury--Extraordinary Change in his Habits--At Frequent Issue with the King--The Council of Clarendon--Becket Defies the King--Popularity with the People--His Flight from Northampton--Arrival at St. Omer--Obtains the Support of Louis and the Pope--Henry's Edict of Banishment--Defeat of the English by the Welsh--Insurrection in Brittany--Becket Excommunicates his Opponents--Henry's Anger--The Pope's Action against Becket--Interview between Becket and the King--The Two Reconciled--Return of Becket to England--His Christmas Sermon--The King's Fury--The Vow of the Conspirators--Scene in Becket's House--Murder of the Archbishop--Henry's Grief--Review of Becket's Career.
Thomas Becket, who was born in 1118, was the son of Gilbert Becket, a native of Rouen, a merchant, and at one time port-reeve of London. The youth was ambitious, and he quickly found means to turn his talents to account. He obtained the favour of one of the Norman barons who lived near London, and he joined in all the amusements of his patron. In this position his abilities acquired him a great reputation among the courtiers, to whom his ready wit recommended him, no less than the obsequious demeanour which he sedulously cultivated.
Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, having heard of the young Englishman, desired to see him, and having been pleased with the interview, took Becket into his service. He caused him to take deacon's orders, gave him the appointment of archdeacon of his church, and employed him in various negotiations with the Holy See. In the reign of Stephen, Becket was employed by the partisans of Matilda to procure the Pope's prohibition of the intended coronation of the king's son. The mission was attended with complete success, and on the accession of Henry II., Becket was presented to him as one who had done his cause good service. Henry extended his favour to the young archdeacon, and Theobald, the primate, who exercised the functions of first minister to the kingdom, finding his growing infirmities rendered him unfit for the duties of his office, delegated to Becket a great part of his power. A few years afterwards the archdeacon was raised to the office of Chancellor of England, or Keeper of the Seal of the Three Lions, which was the symbol of the Anglo-Norman power. The king also gave him the wardenship of the Tower of London and the castle of Berkhampstead, and placed in his hands the care and education of the heir to the throne.
These various appointments yielded large revenues, which were spent by Becket in the greatest luxury and magnificence. He kept in his house, which was furnished with great splendour, a numerous retinue; and it is related that there were in his pay 700 men-at-arms, well mounted and equipped. His tables were covered with choice viands, served upon costly plate; and the trappings of his horses were adorned with gold and silver. The haughtiest nobles of the court regarded it as an honour to visit this magnificent man; the foreigners who enjoyed his hospitality were never suffered to depart without some costly present.
It is related by Fitz-Stephen, who was Becket's secretary, that when the chancellor proceeded on his embassy to Paris, he was attended by many barons and lords, and a large body of knights, besides a great number of attendants and serving-men. His passage through France resembled a triumphal procession, and the train of sumpter-horses and wagons, the hounds and hawks, the falconers and pages, seemed worthy of some powerful king. When he entered a town 250 boys went before him singing songs; these were followed by huntsmen leading their hounds in couples; then came eight wagons, each drawn by five horses, and attended by five drivers; and these were succeeded by twelve sumpter-horses, on each of which rode a monkey with a groom behind on his knees. Next to the sumpter-horses came the esquires, each carrying the shield and leading the horse of his master; then the youths of gentle birth, who were also esquires, but were exempted from the more menial services of that office; then the knights, priests, and officers of the household; and, lastly, the chancellor himself, attended by his friends. As this procession passed through the towns, the people looked on with wonder, asking each other what manner of man the King of England must be when his chancellor travelled in such magnificence.
At this period Henry lived on the most intimate terms with the chancellor, who was skilled in the sports of the field, and whose wit and vivacity fitted him for a boon companion. The chancellor was not deterred by his sacred calling from sharing in the pleasures of the king. Henry, who could well support the royal dignity when occasion required, appears, according to a story of doubtful authenticity, to have had a natural tendency to gaiety and frolic. On one occasion, when the chancellor was riding at his side through the streets of London in stormy weather, there came towards the royal party a poor old man in tattered clothes. "Would it not be well," the king asked, "to give that poor man a warm cloak?" The chancellor replied with proper gravity, "It would, sir; and you do well to turn your eyes and thoughts to such objects." The king then immediately rejoined, "You shall have the merit of this act of charity;" and turning towards the chancellor, he seized hold of the new cloak which he wore, lined with ermine, and endeavoured to pull it from his back. Becket resisted for some time, and in the struggle both had nearly fallen from their horses to the ground; but at last the chancellor wisely let go the cloak, and the king gave it to the beggar, who went on his way wondering and rejoicing.
A man entirely delivered up to ambition is necessarily, to some extent, unscrupulous; and there is no doubt that Becket was content to sacrifice principle whenever it stood in the way of his advancement. He, however, possessed many good and great qualities; and during the period of his chancellorship, his influence with the king was used in promoting reforms and instituting measures which were calculated to promote, in a high degree, the welfare of the people. To his exertions may be attributed the restoration of tranquillity throughout the country, the revival of commerce, the reforms in the administration of the law, and the decline of the power of the barons. Although himself a churchman, Becket did not hesitate to attack the extravagant privileges of the bishops. At the time of the war against the Count of Toulouse, the clergy refused to pay the tax of scutage, which, as already related, was levied by Henry, giving as their reason that the Church forbade them to shed blood.[31] Becket, however, resolved to compel them to pay the tax; and while by so doing he exasperated his own order against him, he secured the goodwill of the king.
Not long after the Conquest the Norman clergy in England began to display great moral depravity. Murders, rapes, and robberies were frequently committed by them; and, according to the laws passed by the Conqueror on the institution of episcopal courts, the offenders could only be brought to justice by men of their own order. Thus it happened that the crimes committed by licentious priests were seldom punished, and they increased to a frightful extent in consequence of this immunity. It is related that from the time of the accession of Henry II. to the year 1161, not less than 100 homicides had been committed by priests who still remained securely in possession of their benefices. To put an end to these disorders, the only course which appeared feasible was to take away from the clerical order those privileges which had been conferred by the Conqueror, and Henry determined to execute this measure. The primacy of Canterbury had long carried with it an authority second only to that of the Pope himself, and it was impossible to carry out the intended reform unless a man devoted to the royal authority, and careless of the interests of the Church, were seated in the archiepiscopal chair. It was evident that for this purpose no fitter man could be found than Becket; and on the death of Theobald, the Archbishop of Canterbury (1161), the king recommended his chancellor to the bishops as the person to succeed to the primacy.
The chancellor was ordained priest, and on the following day was consecrated archbishop, and appointed to the vacant see. Immediately a change took place in him so remarkable that those who saw him found a difficulty in recognising him as the same man. He threw off his gorgeous apparel, removed the splendid furniture from his house, gave up the intimacy with the gay nobles, who had been his friends, and became the friend of the poor, the beggars, and the English. He even affected poverty, and amidst unbounded wealth, and in the possession of power second only to that of the throne, lived the life of an anchorite. He was clothed in a coarse gown, allowed himself only herbs and water for sustenance, and assumed a deportment of the utmost gravity and humility. Thus Becket at once kicked down from him the ladder by which he had risen, and now, no longer obsequious towards his sovereign, he determined to maintain to the utmost the privileges of the Church. Never was there a change of life more sudden, or one that excited so much indignation, on the one hand, or so much admiration on the other. The new archbishop became the idol of the poor, and especially of his own countrymen, while the king and his favourites regarded him with the deepest anger and aversion.
Under these circumstances it was evident that a rupture must soon take place. Becket began the struggle; he claimed a number of estates and castles, including that of Rochester, from the king, and that of Tunbridge from the Earl of Clare, on the ground that they had originally belonged to the see of Canterbury. Had such restitution been given it would have tended to overthrow the legal claim of many of the barons to their estates; great alarm was, therefore, excited, and the demand met with a determined resistance. The barons urged their prescriptive rights, but Becket replied briefly that there could be no prescription for injustice, and that the estates wrongly obtained must be restored.
The archbishop proceeded to follow up his attack by appointing a priest to a benefice on the lands of a Norman baron, named William de Eynsford. William, like the rest of the Normans, assumed the right of disposing of the churches on his manor, and he expelled the priest sent by Becket. The baron was immediately excommunicated by the archbishop in defiance of a law passed by Henry, that no vassal of the crown should be excommunicated without the royal consent. The king ordered the sentence to be remitted, and after some delay Becket yielded, though with evident reluctance. The king's animosity was rather increased than appeased by a consent so reluctantly given.
In the year 1164, Henry proceeded to mature his plans for placing the clergy under civil jurisdiction; and at a general assembly of lords, lay and spiritual, he demanded the consent of the prelates to the proposed revival of ancient customs, now called the constitutions of Clarendon, by which the criminous clerks were to be made amenable to the secular courts. The reply made by Becket and his coadjutors was that they assented, "saving the rights of their order." The king angrily broke up the council, and deprived the archbishop of the castles of Berkhampstead and Eye. A few days afterwards Becket expressed his readiness to assent to the king's demands, and a great council was convened at Clarendon in Wiltshire (March, 1164), for the purpose of receiving the assent formally. When the moment came for Becket's signature to be given, he refused it; accusing himself of folly for having promised to observe the king's laws, whatever they might be. The entreaties of the barons were without effect, and the enactments were completed without his signature.
The king now proceeded to more severe measures against his former favourite. Another council was called at Northampton, before which Becket was summoned to appear, and was charged with contempt of the king's authority. He was called upon to pay various heavy fines, and to give an account of his receipts from different benefices during his chancellorship--the balance due to the crown, which he had kept back, being stated to be 44,000 marks. Becket was now convinced that his ruin had been determined on, and for several days he was confined to his bed by illness, brought on by these anxieties, and was unable to determine on the course he ought to pursue. At length his indomitable mind recovered its ordinary tone, and he determined to resist the decision of the king and the council. Having celebrated mass, he proceeded to the court dressed in his robes, and holding in his right hand the archiepiscopal cross. As he entered the hall, the king, indignant at seeing him in the robes of authority, rose up and passed into an inner room, leaving the archbishop standing in the hall. Becket, who remained calm and undaunted, seated himself on a bench, holding his cross erect. Presently the Bishop of Exeter entered, and, in the name of his colleagues, entreated the primate to obey the king's commands. A refusal was followed by the entrance of the rest of the bishops, who renounced him as their primate, and appealed to the authority of the Pope. Becket sternly answered, "I hear;" and made no other reply.
According to one of the chroniclers, the archbishop was accused before the council of magic arts, and the Earl of Leicester advanced into the hall to read his sentence; but Becket, interrupting him, refused to recognise the authority of a lay tribunal, and himself appealed to the Pope's decision. With these words he rose from his seat, and carrying the cross in his hand, strode slowly through the crowd towards the door of the hall. A murmur arose as he passed, and some of the courtiers, whose mean spirit derived satisfaction from striking a falling man, accused him of perjury and treason, and catching up straw from the floor, threw it in his face. Becket stopped short, and facing his assailants, said, in cold and haughty tones, but with high spirit, "If the sacredness of my order did not forbid it, I would answer with arms those who call me perjurer and traitor." He then mounted his horse, and proceeded to the house where he lodged, followed by a crowd of the inferior clergy and the people, among whom he was exceedingly popular, and who received him with acclamations.
Rejected by the rich, the archbishop opened his house to the poor. That same night he caused a bountiful supper to be laid out in the hall, and in all the chambers of the house. The doors were then thrown open, and the beggar by the wayside, the outcast, and the hungry, were invited to enter freely. All who came were made welcome, so that the house was filled with guests--the archbishop himself supping with them, and presiding at the repast.
In the dead of night, when the visitors at this strange banquet had taken their fill, and departed, Becket disguised himself in the dress of a monk, and, accompanied by two friars, escaped from the town of Northampton. A hasty journey of three days brought him to the fens of Lincolnshire, where he remained a little while concealed in a hermit's hut. On resuming his journey he passed without suspicion to the coast. It was at the end of November, and the weather was cold and stormy; but the archbishop preferred the risks of the sea to those which awaited him on shore, and, embarking in a small boat, reached the harbour of Gravelines in safety. Thence he resumed his journey, as before, on foot. After encountering many privations, the primate and his companions at length reached the monastery of St. Bertin, in the town of St. Omer.
Here Becket waited the result of the applications he had made to Louis of France, and to Pope Alexander III. It was not long before replies were returned entirely in his favour. Louis was glad of an opportunity of annoying and injuring Henry by extending protection to the archbishop, and Alexander supported his cause, as being that of the Church and of justice. He was desired to retain the archiepiscopal dignity, which he had resigned into the hands of the Pope, and the abbey of Pontigny, in Burgundy, was given to him as a place of residence.
On the news of Becket's flight, the king immediately proclaimed a sentence of banishment against all the kindred of the archbishop, young and old, women and children. It is even said that these unhappy exiles were made to swear they would present themselves before Becket, so that he might see the misery of which he had been the cause. Thus it happened that his retirement at Pontigny was disturbed by the visits of these poor people, who vainly implored him to obtain the remission of their sentence. Becket relieved their wants as far as he could and obtained for many of them the protection of the Pope and the King of France.
The banished prelate appears to have supported with contentment his sudden loss of power and return to the condition of poverty. His life at this period was, however, far from being an idle one. Much of his time was occupied in writing; and he received frequent letters both from friends and enemies. The English bishops sent him epistles full of reproaches, for no other reason than to add to the weight of misfortune and humiliation which pressed heavily upon him. The lower ranks of the people, however, retained their attachment to him, and secret prayers were offered up for his success in his undertakings, and for his safe return.
Meanwhile Henry had conducted an expedition into Wales, which resulted in a complete defeat of the royal forces. In 1164, a young man, nephew of Rees-ap-Gryffith, King of South Wales, was found dead under suspicious circumstances; and it was believed that he had been murdered by persons in the employ of a Norman baron of the neighbourhood. To avenge his death, Rees-ap-Gryffith collected troops from all parts of the Welsh mountains, and made successful inroads upon the neighbouring counties. The king, quitting for a time his quarrel with Becket, gathered a considerable army, and in 1165 passed into Wales. The rebels gave way before him, retreating, as their custom was, to the shelter of the mountains. Henry, however, overtook them before they had gained their fastnesses, and defeated them in an engagement. Pursuing them still farther, the English troops reached Corwen, where they pitched their encampment. A violent storm arose, and the streams which poured down from the hills deluged the camp and flooded the valley. The mountaineers took advantage of this circumstance, and, collecting on the ridges near Corwen, attacked the disordered forces of the king, and defeated them with considerable loss. Henry, who on ordinary occasions was less addicted to acts of cruelty than had been the case with his ancestors, was subject to fits of ungovernable passion; and he now determined to revenge himself upon the persons of the hostages who had been placed in his hands in 1158 by the Welsh chiefs. The men had their eyes torn out, and the faces of the women were mutilated by having their noses and ears cut off. It is related that the unhappy victims of these barbarities were the sons and daughters of the noblest families in Wales.
Soon after the return of Henry from this expedition, an insurrection broke out in 1166 in Brittany, which compelled his presence in that province. The government of Conan dissatisfied the people, who were oppressed by the Breton nobles, and could obtain no redress from their prince. Henry entered Brittany with a large body of troops, and was met by a deputation of the priests and the people, who placed the redress of their grievances in his hands. Conan was compelled to resign his authority, and the government passed into the hands of Henry, under the name of his son Geoffrey, who, as we have seen, was married to the daughter of Conan. The country, however, was not restored to tranquillity. Other disturbances took place in various places, and were put down one after the other by Henry, who at length succeeded in overcoming all opposition to his government. He instituted various reforms, and encouraged trade, and, under his rule, the land once more enjoyed prosperity.
When the news of the king's arrival on the Continent reached Thomas Becket, he left Pontigny, and proceeded to Vezelay, near Auxerre. At the festival of the Ascension, Becket addressed the crowd assembled in the great church, and while the bells were solemnly tolled, and the candles burnt at the altar, the archbishop pronounced sentence of excommunication against all who held to the Constitutions of Clarendon, or kept possession of the property of the see of Canterbury. He mentioned by name several of the Norman favourites of the king, and among others Richard de Lucy, Ranulph de Broc, and Jocelyn of Balliol.
When Henry heard of this new act of hostility on the part of Becket, he was at Chinon, in Anjou. Allusion has already been made to the fits of passion with which he was sometimes seized, and on this occasion his fury was altogether ungovernable. He exclaimed that it was attempted to kill him body and soul; that he was surrounded by none but traitors, who would not attempt to relieve him from the persecutions inflicted upon him by one man. He threw his cap from his head, flung off his clothes, and rolling himself in the coverlet of his bed, began to tear it to pieces with his teeth. When his passion had in some degree subsided, he wrote letters to the King of France and to the Pope, demanding that the sentences of excommunication should be annulled, and threatening that if Becket continued to receive shelter from the Cistercians at Pontigny, all the estates in the king's dominions belonging to that order should be confiscated. The Pope promised the king the satisfaction he required, and Becket, driven from his asylum at Pontigny, removed to Sens, where he remained under the protection of the King of France.
A series of petty wars now took place between Louis and Henry, and were concluded by a peace in 1169. The matrimonial alliance previously agreed upon between Louis and the King of Aragon was broken off, and the Princess Alice of France was betrothed to Richard, second son of Henry. At the time when this treaty was concluded, efforts were made by the Pope and the King of France to effect a reconciliation between Henry and Becket. A meeting took place between the two kings at Montmirail, and thither Becket, having consented to give in his submission to his sovereign, was conducted. When the archbishop arrived in the king's presence, he expressed his willingness to submit to him in all things; but he introduced the qualifying clause which he had formerly used--"saving our order." The king angrily rejected such obedience, saying that whatever displeased Becket would be declared to be contrary to the honour of God, and that these few words would take away all the royal authority. The archbishop insisting on such a reservation, the nobles present accused him of inordinate pride, and the two kings rode away from the spot without giving him any salutation.
Another conference which took place was also broken off suddenly, and resulted in a quarrel between Louis and Henry. Peace was, however, once more established between them, and Henry, fearing that the Pope might sanction Becket's proceedings, and permit him to lay all England under interdict, reluctantly promised to conclude final terms of reconciliation with the archbishop. On the 22nd of July, 1170, a solemn congress was held in a meadow between Freteval and La Ferte-Bernard, in Touraine. After terms of peace had been arranged between the two kings, a private conference took place between Henry and Becket. They rode together to a distant part of the field, and conversed with something of their old familiarity. The king promised to redress the grievances of which Becket complained, and the usual forms of reconciliation took place, with the exception of the kiss of peace, which the king now, as on a previous occasion, refused to give. "We shall meet in our own country," said the king, "and then we will embrace." Becket undertook to render to the king all due and loyal service, while Henry promised to restore the privileges and estates of the see of Canterbury. It is related that, to the astonishment of all present, when Becket bended the knee on parting from his sovereign, the king returned the courtesy by holding the stirrups of the man whom he had refused to kiss.
Some delay took place on the king's part in the fulfilment of these conditions, and Becket, who was compelled to borrow money to make the journey, remained for awhile on the coast of France. Sinister rumours reached him there; he was told that enemies were lying in wait for him in England, and that if he again set foot in that country it would be at the risk of his life. The lands of the Church could be restored only by driving out the possessors, who were haughty barons, not unlikely to seek vengeance on the man to whom they owed their ruin. Deadly enemies of Becket were found also among men of his own order. He carried with him the Pope's letter of excommunication against the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of London, who would probably accept any means of escaping the impending disgrace. Considerations such as these, however, had never deterred Becket in the execution of his plans, and did not in the least affect him now. With a spirit untamed by reverses he declared that he would go back to England though he were sure of losing his life on touching the shore. The letters of excommunication he forwarded before him by a trusty messenger, who delivered them in public to the prelates whom they concerned.
A vessel having been sent by Henry to convey him to England, he landed at Sandwich, December 1, 1170, and was received with great rejoicings by the people, who flocked from all parts of the neighbourhood to meet him. The nobles, however, held aloof, and the few whom he saw did not attempt to conceal their hostility. Three barons, who met him on his way to Canterbury, are said to have drawn their swords and threatened his life, and were only restrained from violence by the entreaties of John of Oxford, the king's chaplain, who had accompanied Becket from France.
Proceeding on his way, the archbishop passed through Canterbury to Woodstock, where he endeavoured to obtain an interview with Prince Henry, the eldest son of the king. The interview was forbidden by the royal command, and Becket was ordered to proceed at once to his diocese, and there to remain. The time of Christmas was approaching, and the archbishop retraced his steps, escorted on the way by the poor people, armed with such coarse weapons as they could obtain. Various insults were offered to the prelate by persons of the opposite party, who were anxious to provoke his followers to a quarrel, which would afford a pretext for attacking and murdering him. His faithful guard, however, contented themselves with protecting the person of the archbishop, and received these insults with imperturbable coolness.
The royal order which confined the primate to his diocese was published in the towns, and with it another edict was made known, which declared that whoever looked upon him with favour should be regarded as an enemy of the king and the country. Signs like these were not to be mistaken; and it scarcely needed the acute intellect and foresight of Becket to perceive that his end was approaching. On Christmas day he preached to the assembled crowd in Canterbury Cathedral, choosing as his text the solemn words, "I have come to die among you." He told the people that whereas one of their archbishops had already been a martyr, another would soon be so also; but he declared that before he died he would avenge some of the wrongs which had been inflicted upon the Church. He then proceeded to excommunicate several of those persons from whom he had received insults since his return to England.
The prediction of Becket was soon followed by its fulfilment. The three bishops who had been excommunicated by the Pope's letters immediately hastened to cross the Channel, and presenting themselves before Henry in Normandy, demanded redress. "We entreat you," they said, "in the name of your kingdom and its prelates. This man is setting England in flames. He marches with a number of armed men, both horse and foot, going about the fortresses, and endeavouring to obtain admission into them." Henry heard this statement, and burst out into a violent fit of rage. "What!" he cried; "a man who has eaten my bread--a beggar who first came to my court riding a lame pack-horse, with his baggage at his back--shall he insult the king, the royal family, and the whole kingdom, and not one of the cowards who eat at my table will deliver me from such a turbulent priest?"
These words proved to be the death-warrant of the archbishop. Four knights who were present, Richard Brito, Hugh de Morville, William Tracy, and Reginald Fitzurse, bound themselves by an oath to support each other to the death, and suddenly departed from the palace. There is no evidence that the king was acquainted with their design, or anticipated that his hasty words would be so speedily acted upon. On the contrary, it is recorded that, while the knights were hastening towards the coast, a council of the barons of Normandy, assembled by the king, was engaged in appointing three commissioners to seize the person of Thomas Becket, and place him in prison on a charge of high treason.
The conspirators had departed, and, if their absence was perceived, its cause was not suspected. On the 29th of December they arrived in the neighbourhood of Canterbury, and having collected a number of armed men, to overcome any resistance that might be offered, they first summoned the mayor, and called upon him to march the citizens who were armed for the king's service to the house of the archbishop. On his refusal they proceeded thither without more delay, and the four conspirators, with twelve men, abruptly entered the archbishop's apartment. Becket was at the dinner-table, with his servants in attendance. He saluted the Normans, and desired to know what they wanted. They made no reply, but sat down gazing at him intently for some minutes. At length Reginald Fitzurse rose up and said that they were come from the king to demand that the persons excommunicated should be absolved, the suspended bishops restored to their benefices, and that Becket himself should answer the charge of treason against the throne. The archbishop replied that not he, but the Pope, had excommunicated the bishops, and that he only could absolve them. "From whom, then, do you hold your bishopric?" Fitzurse demanded. "The spiritual rights I hold from God and the Pope, and the temporal rights from the king." "What, then, the king did not give you all?" "By no means." This reply was received with murmurs by the knights, who twirled their gauntlets impatiently. "I perceive that you threaten me," the archbishop said; "but it is in vain. If all the swords in England were hanging over my head, they would not alter my determination." "We do indeed dare to threaten," said Fitzurse; "and we will do more." With these words he moved to the door, followed by the others, and gave the call to arms.
The door of the room was instantly closed, and the attendants of Becket entreated him to take refuge in the church, which communicated with the house by a cloister. He, however, retained his place, although the blows of an axe, which Fitzurse had obtained outside, resounded against the door. At this moment the sound of the vesper bell was heard, and Becket then rose up, and said that, since the hour of his duty had arrived, he would go into the church. Directing his cross to be carried before him, he passed slowly through the cloisters, and advanced to the choir, which was enclosed by a railing. While he was ascending the steps leading to the choir, Reginald Fitzurse entered the door of the church clad in complete armour, and, waving his sword, cried, "Come hither, servants of the king!" The other conspirators immediately followed him armed to the teeth, and brandishing their swords.
It was already twilight, which, within the walls of the dimly-lighted church, had deepened into blackest obscurity. Becket's attendants entreated him to fly to the winding staircase which led to the roof of the building, or to seek refuge in the vaults underground. He rejected both of these expedients, and stood still to meet his assailants. "Where is the traitor?" cried a voice. There was no answer. "Where is the archbishop?" "Here I am," Becket replied; "but here is no traitor. What do ye in the house of God in warlike equipment?" One of the knights seized him by the sleeve, telling him that he was a prisoner. He pulled back his arm violently. It is related that they then advised him to fly or to go with them, as though they repented of their evil design. The time and the scene, the sacred office of Becket, and his calm courage, were well calculated to make an impression upon men peculiarly susceptible to such influences, and if they hesitated we must attribute it to these causes rather than doubt the ruthless intention with which they came.
Once more they called upon him to absolve the bishops; once more he refused, and Fitzurse, drawing his sword, struck at his head. The blow was intercepted by the arm of one of the prelate's servants, who stepped forward to protect his master, but in vain. A second blow descended, and while the blood was streaming from his face, some one of his assailants whispered him to fly and save himself. Becket paid no heed to the speaker, but clasped his hands and bowed his head, commending his soul to God and the saints. The conspirators now fell upon him with their swords, and quickly despatched him. One of them is said to have kicked the prostrate body, saying, "So perishes a traitor."
The deed thus accomplished, the conspirators passed out of the town without hindrance, but no sooner had they done so than the news spread throughout the town, and the inhabitants, in the utmost excitement and indignation, assembled in crowds in the streets, and ran towards the cathedral. Seeing the body of their archbishop stretched before the altar, men and women began to weep, and while some kissed his feet and hands, others dipped linen in the blood with which the pavement was covered. It was declared by the people that Becket was a martyr, and though a royal edict was published forbidding any one to express such an opinion, the popular feeling still manifested itself. The Archbishop of York returned to his pulpit, and announced the violent death of the archbishop to be a judgment from heaven, and that he had perished in his pride, like Pharaoh. It was preached by other bishops that the body of the traitor ought not to be laid in holy ground, but that it should be left to rot on the highway, or hung from a gibbet. It was even attempted by some soldiers to seize the corpse; but the monks, who had received an intimation of the design, buried it hastily in the crypt of the cathedral.
Louis, King of France, seconded the feeling of the English people with regard to this cowardly murder. He wrote to the Pope, entreating him to punish with all the power of the Church that persecutor of God; a Nero in cruelty, a Julian in apostacy, and a Judas in treachery.
The opinion of the French court was that Henry was guilty of the murder, having known or directed the designs of the conspirators. When the intelligence was first conveyed to him, he displayed extreme grief, shutting himself up within a private room, and refusing either to see his friends or to taste food for three days. He immediately sent legates to Rome, to offer assurances of his innocence to the Pope Alexander, who threatened to place the whole kingdom under an interdict, as a punishment for the outrage upon Heaven and the Church. Some time elapsed before Alexander changed his purpose and was prevailed upon to confine his anathema to the actual murderers and their abettors.
In the year 1172 a council was held at Avranches, at which the king and the legates of the Pope were present, and which was attended by a great multitude, both of the clergy and of the people. Here Henry voluntarily swore, in what was considered the most solemn manner--that is to say, over the sacred relics--that he had no concern in the murder of the archbishop, and that he had not desired his death.
On reviewing the remarkable career of Thomas Becket, it appears extremely difficult to form a just estimate of his character. That he frequently acted independently of principle, and displayed qualities better suited to a soldier than a priest, is beyond question. That his sudden conversion was mere hypocrisy, his piety assumed, and his aims altogether selfish--accusations which have frequently been brought against him--is much less certain. When the religious habit was first assumed by Becket, he accepted it as a step to power, and with little regard for the sacred functions it conferred upon him; but when he was called to a higher office, and he felt that the dignity of his order was placed in his keeping, he determined to support that dignity. What was the precise character of the motives which actuated him it is vain to inquire; but it is at least possible that he was sincere in the course he pursued, and that he believed the interests of religion to be identified with the power of the Church. Allusion has already been made to the benefits conferred upon the nation by the reforms which he introduced, and to the veneration with which the people regarded him. The popular regard is not always to be taken as a criterion of excellence, for men are apt to be attracted by a showy and noisy benevolence rather than by silent and unobtrusive virtue; but in process of time the true is distinguished from the false, and the instincts of the people are rarely long deceived. Neither the mitre which he wore, nor the English blood which flowed in his veins, could have placed the archbishop so high in the affections of the nation, unless there had been also high and sterling qualities in the man. Well-authenticated accounts have reached us of his conduct at the time of his death--that hour when the mask of the hypocrite usually falls away, and something of his true character seldom fails to show itself. At this time, then, we find Thomas Becket presented to us in an aspect which must command the respect even of those who take the worst view of his previous life. With far more courage than his knightly assassins, we see him refusing to attempt a flight, which might have shown a consciousness of guilt; preserving, in the face of death, a calm and undaunted brow; and, as we are told by one of the chroniclers, employing his last words in securing the safety of his friends and servants.[32]
XIX. THE REIGN OF HENRY II. (concluded)
Events in Ireland--The Irish People--Henry's Designs in Ireland--Nicholas Breakspeare (Pope Adrian IV.)--The King of Leinster's Outrage--Dermot obtains Henry's Patronage--Siege of Wexford--Strongbow in Ireland--Siege of Waterford--Henry and the Norman Successes in Ireland--Arrival of Henry near Waterford--His Court in Dublin--The King Returns to England--His Eldest Son Rebels--The Younger Henry at the French Court--The English King's Measures of Defence--Defeat of the Insurgent Princes--Success of the King's Cause in England--Henry's Penance--Capture of King William of Scotland--Revival of Henry's Popularity--The King Forgives his Rebellious Sons--Period of Tranquillity--Fresh Family Feuds--The King at Limoges--Death of Princes Henry and Geoffrey--Affairs in Palestine--The Pope's Call to Arms for the Cross--The Saladin Tithe--Richard's Quarrel with his Father--Henry Sues for Peace--The Conference at Colombières--Death of the King--Richard before his Father's Corpse--Character of Henry II.--The Story of Fair Rosamond.
While the life of Thomas Becket was drawing to a close, events were taking place in Ireland which led to the submission of that country to the English crown. It does not fall within the scope of this history to relate in detail the various internal quarrels and disturbances which ultimately placed the island at the mercy of a small invading force; it is sufficient to glance briefly at the condition of the people, and the position of affairs at the time to which we are now referring.
The inhabitants of the island, called in ancient tongues Ibernia, or Erin, were undoubtedly of Celtic origin, as the language still spoken by a majority of the people serves to prove. The dominant race were known as the Scots or Milesians (horsemen), and from them came the settlers who gave Scotland its name. The Irish were distinguished from the Germanic races by their strong passions--either of love or hate--and their enthusiastic temper. Previous to the introduction of Christianity their condition appears to have been entirely uncivilised; those old fragments of Irish history which would lead us to a different conclusion being little else than fables and bardic traditions. When Christianity was carried into the country, the people embraced it readily. Poetry and literature were cultivated to a greater extent than in any other part of western Europe, and remained in a flourishing condition, while the learning of the Continent was on a decline. This advance of civilisation is to be referred to the labours of the celebrated St. Patrick, who was born at Bonavem Taberniæ, probably identical with Kilpatrick in Dumbartonshire. He entered upon his apostolic mission in 425, and died, at an advanced age, in 458. The immediate results of his teaching were seen in the erection of many churches and monasteries, in which literature was cultivated with so much success, that students repaired to the Irish schools from all parts of Europe. This state of things endured for several centuries, until a permanent check was given to the progress of learning by the incursions of the Northmen, who, from the year 748 to the middle of the tenth century, continually visited the country.
At the period of the English invasion, the people of Ireland are described as being of tall and elegant forms, and having a ruddy complexion. Their clothing was of the simplest kind, and was spun from the wool of their sheep. The art of war had made little progress among them; and their arms consisted of a short lance, or javelin, a sword about fifteen inches in length, and a hatchet of steel. Their houses were built of wood, interlaced with wicker-work, in a manner which displayed considerable ingenuity. They were extremely fond of music, and in the use of their favourite instrument, the harp, they excelled the neighbouring nations. Giraldus Cambrensis,[33] who has left us an account of the conquest of Ireland, admits their superiority in this respect.
When Henry ascended the English throne, he entertained the project of taking possession of Ireland; and, following the example of the Conqueror, he first took measures to obtain the sanction and assistance of the Pope to his enterprise. The papal chair was at that time occupied by Nicholas Breakspeare, called Adrian IV., the only Englishman who ever wore the tiara. He was a man of obscure birth, but of considerable intelligence, who had quitted his native land at an early age, and travelled through France to Italy, where he entered an abbey as secretary. Unaided by wealth or connections, his abilities gradually raised him to the dignity of abbot, from which he rose to be bishop, and ultimately Pope. Adrian assented to the request of Henry, and issued a bull, authorising him to undertake the conquest of Ireland. The king, however, was deterred, by the advice of his counsellors, and by the urgency of other affairs, from entering upon the expedition at that time, and the papal bull was deposited in the royal treasury at Winchester, without being promulgated.
Fourteen years later, some Norman and Flemish adventurers, who had previously settled in Wales, were invited to Ireland by one of the native princes. Dervorgilla, a lady of remarkable beauty, wife of Tiernan O'Rourke, a powerful chief, was carried off by Dermot MacMurrogh, King of Leinster. Dermot, who was a man of cruel and arrogant temper, had many enemies, and he now found himself attacked on different sides by O'Rourke, and those who supported his cause. Ultimately a general combination was formed against the King of Leinster, and he was compelled to quit the country.
He proceeded to ask the support of King Henry, who was then in Aquitaine. Henry, occupied at that time with other affairs of importance, received him graciously, and gave him letters, authorising the subjects of the English crown to take up arms in his favour. Furnished with these, Dermot returned to England, and, after some delay, he obtained the assistance of Richard de Clare, surnamed Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, to whom he promised his daughter Eva in marriage. Subsequently he made arrangements with Robert Fitz-Stephen and Maurice Fitz-Gerald, to whom he agreed to give the town of Wexford, with other rewards, in return for the services they were to render him.
In the year 1169, Fitz-Stephen, with his companions, accompanied by 140 knights and 300 men-at-arms, crossed over to Ireland, and landed at Bannock Bay. MacMurrogh, who had previously returned to the country, and had remained in concealment, advanced to meet his friends. The combined forces having attacked and reduced Wexford, advanced against the Prince of Ossory, whom they defeated with great slaughter. The Normans slew their adversaries, who possessed no defensive armour, and cut off their heads with their battle-axes. It is related that three hundred bleeding heads were brought and laid before MacMurrogh, and that he turned them over to see which of his enemies had been slain. On coming to the head of one against whom he had a mortal hatred, he took it up by the hair, and, "horribly and cruelly, tore away the nose and lips with his teeth." This savage chieftain, however, had a regard for his plighted word, and he fulfilled his promise of placing Fitz-Stephen in possession of Wexford, while districts on the coast between Waterford and Wexford were given to others of his allies. These gifts of territory to foreigners called forth the utmost indignation among the Irish confederate chiefs, who, at a council held at the royal seat of Tara, in Meath, declared the King of Leinster to be a national enemy, and prepared to make common cause against him.
Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, did not set sail for Ireland until 1170. He landed near to Waterford, with a force of two hundred knights and two thousand men, and was immediately joined by the Normans who had preceded him. The combined forces, having been arranged in battle array, and with banners flying, advanced to attack the city. The citizens made a gallant resistance, and were probably excited to desperation by the ruthless character of MacMurrogh, and the fate which they expected would await those who might fall into his hands. The Earl of Pembroke, who was well skilled in the art of war, had command of the forces, and led the assault. A little house of timber, standing half upon posts, was observed without the walls, and the assailants having hewn down the posts, the house fell, together with a piece of the wall. The troops poured through the breach thus made, and captured the city, killing the inhabitants without mercy.
Leaving a strong garrison, the Normans marched to Dublin, which town, as well as that of Waterford, had been founded by the Danes. Supported by reinforcements raised by MacMurrogh, the invaders took the city of Dublin with little resistance, and, elated by a course of uninterrupted successes, made incursions upon the surrounding country. King Henry, however, received the news of these events, and his jealousy being excited at such an important conquest being attained by his vassals, he issued a proclamation forbidding any vessel to leave his dominions for Ireland, and ordered all his subjects then in that country to return to England by the next Easter, on pain of the forfeiture of all their estates, and of perpetual banishment from the realm. A consultation was held among the Normans, and Raymond Fitz-William, surnamed Le Gros, nephew of Fitz-Gerald and Fitz-Stephen, was dispatched on a mission to Henry, to prevail upon him to recall the proclamation, and to remind him of the letters he had given to MacMurrogh, authorising Englishmen to take up arms in his cause. Henry received the message without returning any answer, or, according to some of the chroniclers, he replied by confiscating the estates of Strongbow in Wales.
While the earl thus found himself cut off from all reinforcements of men and arms, the Normans in Leinster were suddenly attacked by the men of Danish race who were settled on the north-east coast of Ireland, and who now allied themselves with the natives against the new invaders. They attacked Dublin, but without success. The Normans, however, dreading the formidable league against them, made a second application to Henry through Hervey Fitz-Maurice. Strongbow himself was then ordered to proceed to the court, and after some delay he obtained an audience. The earl agreed to surrender to the king the town of Dublin, with the larger of the other towns on the coast; in return, Strongbow was permitted to retain his other acquisitions in Ireland, and was restored to the possession of his estates in Wales.
MacMurrogh having died previously to this interview, Strongbow had assumed the title of King of Leinster, in right of his wife Eva; and he now found himself reduced from the condition of a sovereign prince to that of steward of the English crown. In the year 1171, Henry set sail from Milford to take possession of his new territories. The royal force consisted of 400 vessels, containing about 5,000 men, among whom were 500 knights. Henry landed at the Crook, near Waterford, October 18th, and was received by the Norman chiefs, who tendered him their homage. The army commenced its march, by way of Cashel, to Dublin, meeting with no resistance. The inhabitants, overawed by the numbers and the martial equipment of their enemies, fled in dismay before the advancing troops, and the native kings of the south had no other alternative than to surrender at the summons of the conqueror, and offer their allegiance to him.
Having established his court at Dublin, Henry styled himself King of all Hibernia, and summoned the whole of the Irish chiefs to his presence. Many obeyed; but the Kings of Connaught and Ulster, entrenched in their native mountains, refused to acknowledge his authority, and the sovereignty of Henry was limited by a line drawn across the island, from the mouth of the Shannon to that of the Boyne. All the pomp which distinguished the Plantagenet court was displayed in Dublin, and the Irish people--lively, impressible, and fond of novelty--derived pleasure from contemplating the splendid appearance of the Norman arms, horses, and accoutrements of war. The majority of the clergy also gave their support to the invader, and welcomed him as one bearing the authority of the Church. Henry promulgated the bull of Pope Adrian; and various reforms and observances of canonical discipline were introduced into the Irish Church.
Henry's former haughtiness towards the clergy, and his resistance to the encroachments of the papal see upon the rights of the crown, had now disappeared. Not only did he require the support of the bishops to secure his new conquest, but the popular feeling excited throughout his dominions by the death of Becket rendered it necessary for him to conciliate where he had formerly threatened. This course of action met with temporary success, and Pope Alexander III. issued a bull confirming that of his predecessor, Adrian, and ratifying the king's title to the possession of Ireland.
After he had remained in the country for a few months longer, Henry received news which compelled his immediate return to England. Having appointed officers to the chief places of power in the island, he sailed from Wexford on the 17th of April, 1172, and landed at Portfinnan, in Wales.
At this time the king had four legitimate sons living--Henry, Richard, Geoffrey, and John, of whom Henry, the eldest, was eighteen years of age. Equitable provision had been made for each of them, it being intended that Henry should succeed to the English throne, as well as to the territories of Normandy, Anjou, and Maine. Richard, who was the favourite of his mother, was to receive her estates of Aquitaine and Poitou; Geoffrey, who had married the daughter of the Duke of Brittany, was to succeed to that province; and John was to be made King of Ireland. During the archbishopric of Thomas Becket, the king had taken measures to show his authority by causing his eldest son to be crowned king by the Archbishop of York. The political enemies of Henry exerted themselves to turn this impolitic measure to their own advantage, by exciting the son to rebellion against the father, who was now called the elder king. In these attempts they were seconded by Queen Eleanor, whose affections had been alienated from the king by his numerous infidelities. She was a woman of strong passions, and determined to make her children the instruments of her vengeance. Through her efforts the people of Aquitaine and Poitou attached themselves to the cause of the younger king, and many of the nobles of those provinces became his counsellors and confidants. They spared no pains to excite the ambition of the youth, and persuade him that his father had abdicated the throne in his favour, and was no longer entitled to hold the sovereign authority. At the coronation of Prince Henry, his wife Margaret, the daughter of Louis of France, was not permitted to receive the crown with her husband, and this omission was resented by the French king, to whom it afforded a pretext for embracing the cause of his son-in-law. A peace having been concluded by the intervention of the Pope, the wrong was repaired, and Margaret was crowned queen. Henry then permitted the young couple to visit the French court, and during their stay, Louis continued to foment the dissatisfaction of the son, and to excite him to rebellion against his father.
On his return to England, the younger king did not hesitate to demand that his father should resign to him either the throne of England or one of the two duchies of Normandy and Anjou. Henry advised him to have patience until the time when all these possessions would become his. The son quitted his father's presence in anger, and from that day, in the language of an old historian, no word of peace ever more passed between them.
In 1174 young Henry sought refuge with Louis VII. at St. Denis. On the news of this escape being brought to the old king, he displayed all the energy of former years, and, mounting on horseback, he proceeded along the frontier of Normandy, inspecting the defences, and preparing against attacks. Messengers, with a similar object, were also dispatched to the captains of the royal garrisons in Anjou, Aquitaine, and Brittany. Meanwhile the two princes, Richard and Geoffrey, followed their brother to the French court. Henry now sent envoys to the French court, demanding his son, and also requiring to know the intentions of the King of France. The ambassadors were received in full court, in the presence of young Henry and his brothers. When, according to the usual form, they commenced their message by enumerating the titles of their royal master, they were interrupted by Louis, who declared that there was but one King of England--namely, the young prince now standing before them.
Young Henry was recognised by a general assembly of the barons and bishops of France as having the only lawful right to the English throne. Louis VII. made oath to this effect, and after him the brothers of Henry and the barons of the kingdom. A great seal was made with the arms of the King of England, in order that Henry might affix that sign of royalty to his documents of state.
His first acts were grants of land and estates to the barons of France and the enemies of his father who were willing to join the confederacy. Among these were William, King of Scotland, who was to receive the territories of Northumberland and Cumberland, conquered by his predecessors; Philip, Count of Flanders, to whom was promised the earldom of Kent, and the castles of Dover and Rochester; and the Count of Blois, who was to have Amboise, Château-Renault, and five hundred pounds of silver from the revenues of Anjou. Other donations were made of a similar kind, and the young king sent messengers to Rome to obtain the sanction of the Pope. Meanwhile the cause of the rebellious son was embraced by many powerful chiefs, even among the vassals of the English king. Not a few recalled former acts of arrogance or oppression for which the present occasion offered the prospect of vengeance; others, who were young in arms, and of turbulent and adventurous spirit, were easily induced to take up arms in favour of the gay young prince. In England the Earls of Leicester and Chester were the principal supporters of his cause.
Henry, who was then in Normandy, found himself deserted by many of the lords of his court, and it is said that even the guards of his chamber, those who were entrusted with the care of his person and his life, went over to his enemies. In circumstances such as these, with dangers and anxieties thickening around him, the indomitable character and powerful mind of the king--now in his prime--were displayed to their full extent. He possessed in a high degree those political and military talents which were hereditary in the family of the Conqueror, and although the loss of his followers was to him a cause of the greatest grief and despair, yet he preserved a calm and cheerful countenance and an admirable temper, pursuing his usual amusements of hunting and hawking, and showing himself more than usually gay and affable towards those who came into his presence.
Allusion has already been made to the animosities existing between the different races inhabiting the Continental territories of Henry II. The rebellion of the princes fomented this national hatred, and opposing nations took part in the contest, and having once drawn the sword, were not easily induced to lay it aside. While the King of France and Henry the younger were marching an army into Normandy, Richard had gone to Poitou, where most of the barons entered the field in his cause. Geoffrey met with similar success among the people of Brittany, who, with their former readiness for revolt, entered into a confederation for the purpose of securing their own interests, while ostensibly supporting the cause of their duke. The old king thus found himself attacked at several points simultaneously, while the troops whom he had at command were chiefly the Brabançon mercenaries, who, though valiant men-at-arms, were in fact little better than banditti. With a division of these troops Henry opposed the advance of the King of France, and ultimately compelled him to make a rapid retreat. Another division, which had been sent into Brittany, met with equal success against the insurgents, and the adherents of the princes were defeated wherever they showed themselves. King Louis, who possessed little persistence of character, soon grew weary of this war, as he had done on former occasions, and advised the rebellious sons to seek a reconciliation with their father. Henry consented to a conference, and the two kings met in a wide plain near to Gisors, where there was a venerable elm, whose branches descended to the ground. In this spot from time immemorial all conferences had been held between the dukes of Normandy and the kings of France. It had, however, no result; and a desultory war, in which no engagement of importance took place, was continued during the rest of the year.
The Scots, who had begun to make forays upon the lands in their neighbourhood, were now assuming a dangerous attitude; but were repulsed by Richard de Lucy, the king's high justiciary, who burnt their town of Berwick, and drove them back with considerable slaughter. On his return to the south De Lucy defeated the Earl of Leicester, and took him prisoner. The peasantry of England appear to have been indifferent to these disputes, and, therefore, remained quiet. The people of Normandy, also, were generally faithful to their sovereign, and it was among the recent conquests of Henry--in the provinces of Poitou and Aquitaine, Maine and Anjou--that the rebellion gained ground. Two of the natural sons of the king, who were at that time in England, exerted themselves strenuously in the cause of their father, and one of these--Geoffrey, Bishop of Lincoln--distinguished himself by various successes against the insurgent barons.
Meanwhile, Richard, having fortified a number of castles of Poitou and Aquitaine, headed a general insurrection of the people of those provinces. Against him, in the year 1174, the king marched his Brabançon troops, having placed garrisons in Normandy to repel the attacks of the King of France. Henry took possession of the town of Saintes, and also of the fortress of Taillebourg, and in his return from Anjou, devastated the frontier of Poitou, destroying the growing crops as well as the dwellings of the people. On his arrival in Normandy he received news that his eldest son, with Philip, Count of Flanders, had prepared a great armament, with which they were about to make a descent upon the English coast. The king, whose movements on such occasions were unsurpassed for rapidity and energy, immediately took horse, and proceeded to the nearest seaport. A storm was raging as he reached the coast, but Henry immediately embarked; carrying with him as prisoners his wife Eleanor, and Margaret, the wife of his eldest son, who had not succeeded in following her husband to the court of her father.
Henry landed at Southampton, whence he proceeded to Canterbury, for the purpose of undergoing that extraordinary penance, to which some allusion has already been made. It is related that he rode all night without resting by the way, and that when, at the dawn of day, he came in sight of Canterbury cathedral, he immediately dismounted from his horse, threw from him his shoes and royal robes, and walked the rest of the way barefoot, along a stony road. On arriving at the cathedral, the king, accompanied by a great number of bishops, abbots, and monks, including all those of Canterbury, descended to the crypt, in which the corpse of Thomas Becket was laid. He knelt upon the stone of the tomb, and, stripping off part of his clothes, exposed his back to the scourge. Each of the bishops then took one of the whips with several lashes, used in the monasteries for penance, and each, in turn, struck the king several times on the shoulders, saying, "As Christ was scourged for our sins, so be thou for thine own." The scourging did not end the acts of humiliation. Henry remained a day and a night prostrate before the tomb, during which time he took no food, and did not quit the place. The fatigue which he thus underwent brought on a fever, which confined him during several days to his chamber. The display of repentance, whether real or assumed, produced a reaction in the king's favour among the people, and he at once recovered the popularity he had lost. It happened that on the day when Henry was thus humbling himself before the tomb of Becket, one of his most powerful enemies had been taken prisoner. William the Lion, of Scotland, had made a hostile incursion into the lands of the English; and on the 12th of July, when he was amusing himself by tilting in a meadow with some of his nobles, he was surprised by Ranulph de Glanville, and captured, together with those who were with him. The English people, deeply imbued with the superstition of the time, attributed this success to the favour of the martyred archbishop, and they flocked to the standard of the king. Henry was not long in recovering his strength; and, taking the field once more, he advanced against the rebellious barons, who gave way and fled at the sound of his approach. Many of their castles were carried by storm, and many were surprised before the inmates had time to escape. So many prisoners were taken that, according to Giraldus Cambrensis, there were hardly cords enough to bind them, or prisons enough to hold them.
Having effectually repressed the revolt in England, Henry passed over with his army into Normandy. The inhabitants of Poitou and Brittany rose again in rebellion. Meanwhile the Count of Flanders had resigned his project of invading England as soon as Henry's return thither, and the various successes which attended him, were made known. The earl turned his forces in another direction, and having been joined by Henry, the younger king, and by Louis of France, laid siege to the city of Rouen. The attacking forces had scarcely sat down before the place, when Henry, who had returned in haste to the Continent, appeared on the scene of action, and obtained possession of the stores of the French army. Louis and his allies made but a brief resistance, and in a few days raised the siege. Their numerous army retreated hastily before the forces of the English king, who pursued his advantage, and compelled his adversaries once more to come to terms. Louis was again the first to withdraw from the contest, and proposed a conference for arranging terms of peace, to which the princes Henry and Geoffrey reluctantly assented.
Richard at first refused to be included in the truce, but receiving no succour from his allies, he was unable to maintain a defence, and after the loss of many fortresses, he was compelled to return to his father, and implore his pardon. The king, stern and unrelenting towards ordinary offenders, acted with remarkable indulgence towards his rebellious children. An act of reconciliation was agreed upon, by which estates and revenues were assigned to each of the princes; and Henry made peace with the French king and the Count of Flanders, on condition that they restored the territories which they had occupied since the commencement of the war. On the other hand, Henry agreed to give up those lands which he had conquered, and to liberate all his prisoners, with the exception of the King of Scotland, who had been confined in the castle of Falaise. In the following month of December (1174), the Scottish king obtained his freedom by doing homage to Henry, and acknowledging himself as his vassal--thus sacrificing nominally the independence of his kingdom.
The three princes assented to the terms offered by their father, and promised future honour and obedience to him, the two younger taking the oath of fealty. In 1175 Henry returned to England with his eldest son, and the reconciliation between them was now so complete, that it is related that they ate at the same table and slept in the same bed.
At length the country enjoyed a short period of tranquillity, and eight years elapsed, during which there was peace at home and abroad, and the energies of the king were engaged in promoting reforms in the internal government of the kingdom. His reputation for wisdom and power at this time stood so high that the Kings of Navarre and Castile, who had been engaged in a prolonged warfare upon a question of territory, agreed to refer their dispute to the decision of the English monarch, and it is related that he delivered a wise and impartial judgment between them.
In 1182 fresh disputes arose between Henry and his sons. Richard having been called upon to do homage to his elder brother Henry for the provinces of Aquitaine and Poitou, positively refused, and immediately proceeded to put his fortresses in a condition of defence. In the beginning of the following year, Henry the younger and Geoffrey marched an army, part of which was composed of the Brabançon troops, against their brother, and several furious engagements took place between them. The king, alarmed at the grave appearance of the quarrel, recalled his two sons, and on their refusal took up arms in support of Richard. The family war was thus renewed under a new aspect, one of the sons fighting with his father against his two brothers. Contemporary historians speak with a fitting horror of these unnatural contests, and attribute their recurrence to an evil destiny which hung over the race of Plantagenet, as the result of some great crime which remained unexpiated. Revolting stories were related of the origin of the family, and of the deeds of its descendants--stories, of which some are evidently fabulous, and others, probably, had little or no foundation in fact. One of these, which occurs in the chronicles of Johannes Brompton, may be given as an instance:--An ancient countess of Anjou, from whom King Henry was descended, was observed by her husband to evince great reluctance to entering a church, and when she did visit one, she invariably quitted the edifice before the celebration of the sacrament. The husband, whose suspicions were excited, caused her one day to be forcibly detained by four esquires; but, at the moment of the consecration, the countess threw off the cloak by which she was held, flew out of the church window, and was never seen afterwards. It is related that Prince Richard was accustomed to refer to this anecdote, and to say it was no matter of surprise that he and his family, who had sprung from such a stock, should be on bad terms with each other.
Henry and his son Richard marched against Limoges, which was in the possession of Henry the younger and Geoffrey. Within a few weeks the eldest brother deserted the cause of the men of Aquitaine, and gave in his submission once more to his father. Geoffrey, however, remained firm, and, supported by the people, continued his opposition. Prince Henry communicated with his brother through Bertrand de Born, and arranged that a meeting should take place between his father and Geoffrey, for the purpose of arranging terms of peace. When the king arrived at Limoges to attend this conference, he was surprised to find the gates of the town shut against him; and on presenting himself with a small escort before the walls, and demanding admittance, he was answered by a flight of arrows, one of which pierced his armour. An explanation ensued, when this occurrence was declared to be a mistake, and the king entered the town, and was met by Geoffrey in an open place, where they began the conference. During the interview a second flight of arrows was discharged from the walls of the castle adjoining, one of which struck the king's horse on the head. Henry ordered one of his esquires to pick up the arrow, and, taking it in his hand, he presented it to Geoffrey, with words of sorrow and reproach.
Henry the younger, finding his attempts at mediation frustrated, declared that the men of Aquitaine were obstinate rebels, with whom he would never more make peace or truce, but that he would remain true to his father at all times. And yet a month had scarcely elapsed before he again quitted his father, and entered into a league with his adversaries. The Pope now interposed, and by his command the Norman clergy excommunicated the disobedient son--a penalty which the perjuries of the prince had once before called down upon him. It seems improbable that Henry the younger was in the least disturbed by being under the ban of the Church; but he was induced by some cause to return to his father, who received him once more with forgiveness. The prince promised, in the name of the insurgents, to surrender the town of Limoges; but if he had their warranty for doing so, they soon repented of their determination. The envoys of the king, who were sent to take possession of the town, were butchered within the walls, and the people, whose national spirit was thoroughly aroused, showed themselves resolved to put down all measures of reconciliation.
Not long after these events, Henry received a message that his son, having fallen dangerously ill at Château-Martel, near Limoges, was anxious to see him. The king, who remembered the former dastardly attempts upon his own life, as well as the recent assassination of his soldiers, feared to trust himself again among these conspirators. He took a ring from his finger, and giving it to the Archbishop of Bordeaux, desired him to convey it immediately to the prince, with the assurance of his father's love. The archbishop executed his mission, and Prince Henry died with his father's ring pressed to his lips, confessing his undutiful conduct, and showing every sign of contrition. The younger king was twenty-seven years of age at the time of his death, which took place on the 11th of June, 1183.
The death of the younger king caused a reconciliation between the several members of this dissevered family. Even the Queen Eleanor was once more taken for a while into favour; and in her presence, the Princes Geoffrey and Richard, as well as their younger brother, Prince John, swore to a solemn bond of final peace and concord (1184). The king, distrusting the untamed disposition of his elder sons, appears to have extended his chief favour and affection towards John. In a few months more the peace of the family was again disturbed by Geoffrey, who demanded the earldom of Anjou, and, on being refused, he went over to the French court. Here he passed his time in amusement and dissipation, waiting an opportunity for pursuing his schemes of ambition. One day, when engaged in a tournament, his horse was thrown down, and the prince himself was trampled to death by the horses of the combatants (1186).
Six years before the death of Geoffrey, Louis VII. of France had died, and the throne became occupied by his son, Philip II., a young and warlike prince. He it was who had welcomed Geoffrey to the French court, and who now invited his brother Richard to enjoy the same honours. The invitation was accepted, and a great friendship--which, however, was not destined to endure in after years--sprang up between the two princes. This state of things displeased Henry, who sent repeated messages to his son, desiring him to return to England. After various excuses and delays, Richard set out, apparently for that purpose; but on reaching Chinon, where one of the royal treasuries was placed, he carried off the contents by force. The money thus obtained was spent in fortifying castles in Aquitaine, whither he immediately proceeded. The people of that province, disgusted with the result of their previous rebellion, offered him no support, and after a short time he was compelled to return to his father. Henry, who had learnt to distrust the efficacy of the most solemn oaths, collected a great assembly of the clergy and the barons to bear witness to his son's new vows of good faith and duty.
In the following year (1187) the state of affairs in the Holy Land again attracted the attention of the princes of the west. Jerusalem, with its sacred treasures and relics, had again fallen into the hands of the Mahometans, who were headed by a young and warlike prince, Saleh-ed-Deen, commonly called Saladin. The Christian conquerors of the Holy Land were suffering repeated defeats and misfortunes, and the Pope sent messages to the princes of Europe, calling upon them to arouse themselves, and take up arms in the cause of the Cross. Henry of England at once responded to the call, and Philip having determined on a similar course of action, a conference was determined upon between the two kings for the purpose of arranging a permanent peace. The meeting took place, as before, in the field beside the elm-tree between Trie and Gisors. Several envoys of the Pope were present, among whom was the celebrated William, Archbishop of Tyre. The eloquence of this man is said to have tended greatly to the success of the negotiations. Suspending the settlement of their differences, the two kings swore to take up arms as brothers in the holy cause, and, in token of their pledge, each received from the archbishop a cross, which he attached to his dress, the cross of the King of England being white, and that of the King of France red.
Having held a council at Le Mans to deliberate upon the measures to be pursued for taking the field, Henry returned to England; and a similar council, composed of the barons of the whole kingdom, was held at Geddington, in Northamptonshire. The lords determined that a tenth of all property in the kingdom should be levied to meet the expenses of the crusade; the tax was known as the Saladin tithe. The men of landed property who accompanied the royal army were to receive the sum levied on their lands, to enable them to take the field, the impost upon the other parts of the country being applied to the use of the Crown. The sum of £70,000, which was raised by this means, proving insufficient, Henry extorted large sums of money from the Jews, and the people of that unhappy race were compelled, by imprisonment and other severe measures, to yield up their hoards. One-fourth of their whole property was thus extorted from the Jews, and probably, in many cases, a much larger sum.
Notwithstanding all these preparations, and the solemn oath of the two kings, the money thus obtained was not applied to the conquest of Jerusalem. A quarrel took place between Prince Richard and Raymond of Toulouse, and the people of Aquitaine, once more roused to rebellion, profited by the dispute to form new leagues against the Plantagenet government. The King of France joined the insurgents, and attacked various castles and towns in the occupation of Henry. At length, after a profitless contest of several months, the two kings met once more under the old elm-tree, resolved to arrange a peace. No mockery of solemn engagements took place on this occasion, and Henry and Philip separated in anger, without having been able to come to an agreement. The young King of France, enraged at the failure of the conference, cut down the elm-tree, swearing by the saints that never more should a parley be held under it.
This latter revolt, on the part of Richard, however unjustifiable it might be, was not without some pretext. According to an agreement, made in former years, between Henry II. and Louis VII., it had been determined that Richard should marry Alice, King Louis's daughter, and the young princess was placed in the hands of Henry, until she should arrive at a marriageable age. The war, having broken out afresh, and the princes of England being separated from their father, the marriage was deferred, and it was currently reported that Henry had grown enamoured of her, and even that she had become his mistress. It is related that, at the time when his sons were at war against him, the king had determined to make Alice his wife, and that an attempt which he made to procure a divorce from the Queen Eleanor was to be attributed to this partiality. The court of Rome, however, rejected his entreaties and presents, and refused the application.
What degree of truth may have existed in these reports cannot now be determined, but it is certain that Henry detained the princess for a number of years, resisting the demands of Philip, and even the order of the Pope, that the marriage between her and Richard should take place. Another plea urged by Richard in justification of his rebellion, was his belief that his brother John was intended to succeed to the English throne. No circumstances, however, are related by the historians giving reasonable grounds for such an opinion. In November, 1188, another conference took place, and this time at Bonmoulins, in Normandy. Philip demanded that his sister should be immediately delivered up to her affianced husband, and that Richard should be declared heir to the English throne in the presence of all the barons of the two countries. Henry, remembering the events which had followed the recognition of the claims of his eldest son, refused to repeat an act which might be attended with similar disturbances. Richard, enraged at this refusal, turned from his father, and placing his hands in those of the King of France, declared himself his vassal, and said that he committed the protection of his hereditary rights into his hands. Philip accepted his oath of fealty, and, in return, presented him with some towns conquered by the French troops from his father. Henry quitted the spot in violent agitation, and, mounting his horse, he rode to Saumur, there to make his preparations for continuing the war.
At the news of this fresh rupture, the Bretons, who had been quiet for two years, rose once more in revolt, and the men of Poitou declared for Richard so soon as they perceived him to be finally separated from his father. Many of the nobles and knights of Henry began to desert him, as they had done before, and the party of his son, supported by the King of France, increased in strength daily. On the other hand, the greater part of the Normans remained faithful to their sovereign, and the Pope granted Henry his assistance, causing sentence of excommunication to be declared against all the adherents of the rebellious son. But Henry was no longer young. The repeated vexations and misfortunes he had undergone--the wounds he had received from the disobedience of his children--at length produced their effect, and he resigned himself to sorrow, leaving to the legate of the Pope and to the priests the care of his defence.
The French king attacked his territories in Anjou, while the Poitevins and Bretons, headed by Richard, seized the royal towns and castles in the south. The old king, whom grief and failing health had reft of all his former energy, was compelled once more to sue for peace, and offered to grant whatever terms might be demanded. Philip and Henry met, for the last time, on the plain of Colombières, Richard remaining at a distance, waiting the result of the interview. Philip demanded that the English king should give in his allegiance to him, and place himself at his mercy; that Alice should be committed to the care of persons appointed by Richard, until his return from the Holy Land, whither he intended to proceed immediately; that Henry should give his son the kiss of peace, in token of entire forgiveness of the past, and should pay to the King of France twenty thousand marks of silver, for the restitution of the provinces which he had conquered.
According to Roger of Hoveden, a contemporary historian, the two kings were talking in the open field, when suddenly, although the sky was without a cloud, a loud clap of thunder was heard, and a flash of lightning descended between them. They immediately separated in affright, and when, after a short interval, they met again, a second clap, louder than the first, was heard almost on the instant. The conference was broken off, and Henry, whose weak state of health rendered him liable to be seriously affected by any violent emotion, retired to his quarters, where the articles of the treaty, reduced to writing, were sent to him. Thus the historian would have us believe that Heaven itself interposed to prevent the dishonour of the English king, and his submission to the crown of France.
The envoys of Philip found the old king in bed, and while he lay there they began to read out to him the articles of the treaty. When they came to the part which referred to the persons engaged secretly or avowedly in the cause of Richard, the king desired to know their names, that he might at least learn who they were who had been his enemies. The first name read to him was that of his youngest son, John, whom he had so long believed to be loyal and dutiful. On hearing this name, the old man was seized with a violent agitation or convulsion of the whole frame. Raising himself half up, he exclaimed, "Is it, then, true that John, the joy of my heart, the son of my love, he whom I have cherished more than all the rest, and for love of whom I have brought upon myself these troubles, has also deserted me?" Then falling back on the bed, and turning his face to the wall, he said, in words of despair, "So be it, then; let everything go as it will. I care no more for myself, nor for the world!"
Feeling that he grew rapidly worse, Henry caused himself to be conveyed to Chinon, where he arrived in a dying state. In his last moments he was heard to utter maledictions on himself as a conquered king, and to curse also the sons he was leaving behind him. The bishops and lords who surrounded him exerted themselves in vain to induce him to retract these words, and he continued repeating them until death laid its finger on his lips (July 6, 1189).
No sooner had this great king breathed his last, than his servants and attendants, one and all, deserted his corpse, as had happened a century before to his ancestor, William the Conqueror. It is related that these hirelings stripped the body of their royal master of the very clothes which covered him, and carried off everything of value from the chamber. King Henry had desired to be buried at the abbey of Fontevrault, a few leagues to the south of Chinon; but it was not until after considerable delay that people could be found to wrap the body in a shroud, and convey it thither with horses. The corpse was lying in the great church of the abbey, waiting the time of sepulture, when Richard, who had received the news of his father's death, arrived at Fontevrault. Entering the church, he commanded the face of the dead king to be uncovered, that he might look upon it for the last time. The features were still contracted, and bore upon them the impress of prolonged agony. The son gazed upon the sight in silence, and with a sudden impulse, he knelt down for a few moments before the altar; then, rising up, he quitted the church, not to return. An old superstition of the North, which had descended alike to Normans and Saxons, was to the effect that the body of a murdered man would bleed in the presence of the murderer; and some of the chronicles relate that from the moment when Richard entered the church, until he had again passed the threshold, blood flowed without ceasing from the nostrils of the dead king. Thus it is evident that contemporary writers regarded the conduct of the sons as having accelerated, if indeed it did not cause, the death of their father.
Henry II. died on the 6th of July, 1189, at the age of fifty-six, having reigned nearly thirty-five years. Of the king's personal character, very different estimates have been formed by different historians. Those who look at a many-sided character from their own narrow standpoint, will, necessarily, paint that side only which is presented to them, leaving the rest in shadow; and thus we find Henry II. described on the one hand as a man almost without blemish, and, on the other, as utterly destitute of public or private virtue. It appears probable that he had little abstract regard for the welfare of the people, but he was fully alive to his own interests, and he perceived those interests to be bound up in the national prosperity. He therefore laboured to promote the well-being of his subjects, as absolute monarchs, in later times, have done from a similar motive. He was inordinately ambitious, and was heard to say, in moments of triumph, that the whole world was a portion little enough for a great man. He was skilled in the arts of diplomacy, and accustomed to use dissimulation and falsehood whenever an advantage was to be gained thereby.
Instances have been given of the ungovernable fits of passion to which Henry in his younger days was subject; these appear to have been much less frequent as he grew past middle age. Without any self-control in moments of anger, he was at other times remarkable for acting with calm judgment and calculation. In his relations with women he was extremely licentious. Among his mistresses was one who has been celebrated in various romantic tales, most of which are without any foundation in truth. "Fair Rosamond" was the daughter of Walter Clifford, a baron of Herefordshire, whose castle was situated on one of the heights overlooking the valley of the Wye, between the Welsh Hay and Hereford. Henry fell in love with her before he ascended the throne, and she bore to him two sons, who have been already mentioned as aiding their father at the time of the partial rebellion in England. One of these was William, called Longsword, from the size of the weapon which he carried, who married the daughter of the Earl of Salisbury, and succeeded to his estates; the other was Geoffrey, Bishop of Lincoln, and subsequently Archbishop of York. While Henry was still a young man, Rosamond retired to the convent of Godstow, near to Oxford, where, after a few years, she died. During her residence there, Henry bestowed many valuable presents upon the convent for her sake, and the nuns, who seem to have been actuated by a personal regard for her, as well as by a recollection of the benefits she had conferred upon them, buried her in their choir, burning tapers round her tomb, and showing to her remains other marks of honour. Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, twenty years afterwards, gave the nuns to understand that one who had led an impure life, even though the mistress of a king, was not worthy to lie in the sacred edifice. The repentance of Rosamond, which appears to have been sincere, was not permitted to wipe away the shame of the past, and her body was removed and buried in the common cemetery. The nuns, however, feared no contamination from the poor remains of their frail sister, and they secretly collected her bones, strewed perfumes over them, and buried them once more in the church. The story of the bower of Rosamond, and of the poisoned bowl forced upon her by the jealousy of Eleanor, cannot be traced to any contemporary source, and must be rejected as devoid of truth.
Whatever may be the view we take of the character of Henry as a man, there can be no doubt that, as a king, he deserves a high place in English history. In the stormy times of the Middle Ages, better were the wrongs inflicted by an ambitious monarch, than the national corruption and decay which attended the reign of a weak one. Under the rule of Henry Plantagenet, the country made rapid strides in power and influence, and reached that high position among the nations of Europe which it was destined to maintain in later times.
XX. NORMAN ARCHITECTURE
Introduction of Norman Architecture--Remains of Saxon Work--Canterbury Cathedral--St. Albans and other Edifices--Periods of Norman Architecture--Its Characteristics--Towers--Windows--Doorways--Porches--Arches--Piers and Pillars--Capitals--Mouldings and Ornaments.
Edward the Confessor, who was more Norman than English, and more a churchman than a king, had been brought up at the Norman court, where his ideas and tastes had been formed. On his accession to the English throne he introduced the Norman fashions and manners, filled his court with Norman ecclesiastics, and adopted the Norman style of architecture for his ecclesiastical buildings. Shortly before his death he built the abbey church of Westminster, which is described by William of Malmesbury[34] as being constructed in a "new style," and he also says that it served for a model for many subsequent buildings. This edifice, which has long since disappeared, was doubtless in the style he had imported from abroad, and, though built by an English monarch, was, there can be no doubt, a genuine Norman building. Numerous churches and monasteries, founded on this model, are said to have sprung up in towns and villages in all directions, and thus we see that the Norman style was established even before the Norman conquest. That great event confirmed the changes which the Confessor had begun, and the rude English churches were swept away and replaced by the more finished Norman edifices.
The Normans were essentially a building people, and no building seems to have been good enough for them, if they had the means of erecting a better. Hence we see a continued change--a constant pulling down and rebuilding on a larger scale, and to this must be ascribed the disappearance of the buildings which had been erected before the Conquest. It is chiefly in remote places, which were too poor to enlarge their churches, that we still find remains of the original Saxon work. In many of the smaller churches, which were erected soon after the Conquest, the Saxon ideas still linger; the towers have the same proportions, and the same general appearance prevails, but the workmanship is better; the baluster disappears, and is replaced by a shaft, and the capitals assume more of the Norman form. This lingering love for the old form was, doubtless, owing to the necessary employment of Saxon workmen, who naturally still clung to their national style; but in large buildings, where foreign architects and workmen would be employed, the new style would be exhibited in its purity.
Canterbury, St. Albans, Rochester, and Ely were built in the reign of the Conqueror, but of these Canterbury is the most interesting, as it so fully illustrates the history of architecture in this kingdom. There was a Saxon cathedral on the spot at the time of the Conquest, but having been destroyed by fire, it was rebuilt on an enlarged scale by the Norman archbishop, Lanfranc, in 1070; but, within about twenty years, this church was pulled down by his successor, as not being large enough, and another erected on a more magnificent scale. This was again partially destroyed by fire, and was again rebuilt in 1175 and the following years. The history of the fire, and the subsequent rebuilding, has been minutely given by Gervase, a monk of Canterbury, who was an eye-witness of the whole; and his account is peculiarly valuable, as it enables us to compare the style of the remains of the old building with that erected under his own eyes; and we are by this means enabled to point out the differences between the early and the late Norman buildings. His narrative is clear and interesting, and his description of the present building wonderfully correct.
St. Albans Abbey was built in the reign of the Conqueror, and in the construction of the building the materials of the Roman city of Verulam were freely used; so that a great part of it is built of Roman bricks.
The following cathedrals also were built in the Norman period, and still retain portions of the original work:--Lincoln, Rochester, Ely, Worcester, Gloucester, Durham, Norwich, Winchester, Peterborough, and Oxford. Castles were erected in various parts of the kingdom, to restrain the rebellious people, who could ill brook the tyranny of the Conqueror. Of these the Tower of London is one of the most important, and the chapel in the White Tower is one of the best examples (dated 1081) we possess of early Norman, though, from its situation in a military building, it has less of ornament than might otherwise have been expected. Of Norman castles, the chief parts which remain are the keeps or principal towers, and these have ordinarily one prevailing character. They are square masses, not having much height in proportion to their breadth, and merely relieved at the angles by slightly projecting turrets. The windows are in general comparatively small, and the walls exceedingly thick--sometimes, as at Carlisle, reaching to sixteen feet. Norwich, from its immense size, is an excellent sample of this kind of tower, and Castle Hedingham is another.
Of the houses of this period many yet exist, though not in an entire state; and of these some fine specimens are found in Lincoln,[35] where they are said to have belonged to the Jews, but whose riches at that time only led to their destruction.
Many rich and magnificent examples of monastic buildings of this date occur in various parts of the kingdom.
Norman architecture may be divided into three periods--namely, Early, Middle, or fully-developed, and Transition; the first extending from the Conquest, or a few years previous, to the end of the reign of Henry I., 1135; the second from the commencement of Stephen to nearly the end of Henry II., 1180; after which date the Transition commences, and the style gradually loses its characteristics until it merges in the succeeding, or Early English style of the thirteenth century. Of the first period, the chapel in the Tower of London has been already mentioned as an example; the second includes most of our rich Norman buildings; and of the third, the Temple Church is a good specimen.
The great characteristics of Norman architecture are solidity and strength. Walls of an enormous thickness, huge masses of masonry for piers, windows comparatively small, and a profusion of peculiar ornament, seem to be essential to the full development of the style; and there is a gloomy magnificence in a fine Norman building which is highly impressive; its walls seem as firmly fixed in the earth as the iron foot of the Conqueror was on the neck of a prostrate nation.
The distinctive features of Norman architecture may be thus summarised:--
TOWERS.--These are in general rather low for their breadth. They are more massive than the Saxon ones which preceded them, and this is particularly the case with the later buildings. Many of the church towers which were built soon after the Conquest have very much of the Saxon character remaining, and are proportionally taller than those of later date, but the workmanship is better. A large belfry window, divided by a shaft, in the upper storey, is a common feature; and the surface of the tower is frequently ornamented with stages of intersecting or plain arcades, and sometimes the whole surface is covered with ornament. The angles of the tower are strengthened by flat buttresses having but little projection, which sometimes reach to the top of the building, and sometimes only to the first or second storey. The parapets of most Norman towers are destroyed, and it is consequently difficult to say what they were originally; but it seems probable that the towers terminated in a pointed roof. Staircases were of common occurrence, and are frequently made very ornamental features. St. James's Tower, Bury St. Edmunds, is an example of an early Norman tower, exhibiting the flat, pilaster-like buttresses, so characteristic of Norman work, and secondly, a porch flanked by two pedimented buttresses, ornamented with corbel-tables and intersecting arcades. The arch is plainer than it would have been at a later period, but it shows the billet moulding which is also used on the buttresses. The capitals are of the plain cushion form, and the pediment of the porch exhibits the scalework surface ornament alluded to in p. 216.
WINDOWS.--These are universally round-headed, except in the Transition period. The simplest form is a narrow round-headed opening, with a plain dripstone; but they are frequently wider, and divided into two lights by a shaft, and richly ornamented with the zigzag and other mouldings.
DOORWAYS.--These are the features on which the most elaborate workmanship was bestowed by the Norman architects, and it is perhaps to be attributed to this that so many of them have been preserved; the Norman doorway having frequently been retained when the church was rebuilt. They are always, except in the Transition period, semicircular, and are very deeply moulded. They are frequently three or four times recessed, and are richly ornamented with the peculiar decorations of the style, the most characteristic of which is the zigzag or chevron moulding. A peculiar head, having a bird's beak, and called a "beak-head," is frequently used, and medallions of the signs of the zodiac are not uncommon. The jambs of the door are ornamented with shafts which are sometimes richly adorned, and have elaborately sculptured capitals. The doorway itself is frequently square-headed, and the tympanum or space between this and the arch is filled with sculpture representing the Trinity, the Saviour, saints, or some symbolical design or monstrous animal, and sometimes merely foliage. There are a few doorways which are trefoil-headed instead of circular.
PORCHES.--The Norman porch is in general not much more than a doorway, the little projection it has from the wall being intended chiefly to give greater depth to the doorway, which is very deeply recessed, and it is in these porches that we find the richest doorways, the arches and shafts being overlaid with the utmost profusion of ornament, which, though sometimes rude, always produces a fine effect, and there is scarcely any architectural feature which has been so universally admired; other styles may be more chaste and more finished, but there is a grandeur about a rich Norman doorway which is peculiarly its own.
ARCHES.--The semicircular is the characteristic form of the Norman arch, but there are a few early examples in which the pointed arch was used, supported by massive piers; they are not likely to be mistaken for those of the next style. In the Transition the pointed arch is very frequently used. Sometimes the arch is brought in a little at the impost, when it is called a horse-shoe arch; and sometimes the spring of the arch is above the impost, and is carried down by straight lines. It is then said to be stilted.
PIERS AND PILLARS.--The piers in early buildings were very massive, consisting frequently merely of heavy square masses of masonry, with nothing but the impost moulding to relieve their plainness. Sometimes they were recessed at the angles, and sometimes they were circular, with capitals and bases, but still of very large diameter. As the style advanced they were reduced in thickness, and had richly sculptured capitals and bases, frequently ornamented with sculpture at the angles. In the Transition period the pillars become slender and clustered, with little to distinguish them from the next style. The Galilee at Durham is an excellent example of late Norman; the round arch and the zigzag mouldings are still retained, but the pillars are as slender as those of Early English.
CAPITALS.--The capital is the member by which the styles are more easily distinguished than by any other. In the Saxon style we have seen that the Corinthian capital was rudely imitated; and we find in the Early Norman this imitation continued, but with more resemblance to the original, and this imitation was more and more complete as the style advanced. The general form of the plain capital is that of a hemisphere cut into four plain faces; this form is called a cushion capital. This may be considered as the fundamental form from which other varieties have been worked. It is sometimes doubled or multiplied, and sometimes highly ornamented. The abacus, or upper member of the capital, will at once distinguish the Norman from all other styles, and throughout Gothic architecture it is the feature most to be depended on in distinguishing one style from another. In the Norman it is square in section, with the corner edge sloped or chamfered off. It is commonly quite plain, but sometimes it is moulded, and sometimes highly ornamented; but in all cases it retains its primitive and distinctive form. The capitals of the Chapel in the Tower of London are excellent examples of Early Norman, showing the volutes at the angles and the plain block in the centre, in room of the caulicoli, and surrounded by a peculiar stiff kind of foliage, the whole being an evident but rude imitation of the Corinthian capital. The volutes and the centre block are common features of Early Norman capitals, but the foliage is rare.
MOULDINGS AND ORNAMENTS.--These are extremely numerous; the ornamented mouldings are almost endless in variety, but the most general is the zigzag, which is used for decoration in all places, both simple and in every variety of combination, sparingly in the early buildings, but profusely in the later ones. The billet is much used in early work, as is also a peculiar kind of shallow lozenge, and other ornaments which required little skill in the execution.
When large and otherwise blank spaces of walls, either on fronts or towers, have to be relieved, it is frequently done by introducing stages of intersecting arcades--a fine example of which occurs at Castle Rising, in Norfolk.
There is a peculiar kind of ornament which is used to relieve surfaces of blank spaces, either over the arches or the interior, or in the heads of window-porches, &c. This is frequently called diaper work, and consists either of lines cut in the stone in the form of a trellis, or in imitation of scale-work, arches, &c.
A portion of a doorway from Durham Cathedral is engraved (see p. 215) as an example of rich Norman, and exhibits the peculiar mouldings and ornaments of the style. The dripstone shows a rude kind of foliage, on which are placed at intervals medallions containing animals, &c. It is not unusual for these to be occupied with the signs of the zodiac. The arch exhibits a rich series of zigzags; the abacus of the capitals is of the usual Norman form, but has its upright face ornamented with what is an imitation of a classical form, generally known as the Grecian honeysuckle. The capitals are of cushion shape, but overlaid with foliage and monstrous animals. The shapes exhibit two varieties of ornamentation, much used in very rich doorways. The first two are fluted spirally in opposite directions, and the third displays a kind of diaper work, being a modification of the zigzag, in which the interstices are filled with foliage.