Richard II

rre

. 1

which the kings and t

uence exercised by their government in promoting law and order throughout the community, the country was really kept in a continual state of turmoil by the quar

ready seen, were perpetuall

ften engaged in bitter and cruel wars with each othe

waging war against each other with fire and sword. These wars arose sometimes from a lawless spirit

the Church in England as well as elsewhere, was con

Po

jurisdictio

laimed rights in respect to the appointment of the archbishops, and bishops, and other ecclesiastics in England, and in respect to the government and control of the monasteries, and the abbeys, and to the appropriation and expenditure of the revenues of the Church, which sometimes interfered very seriously with the views and designs of the king. Hence there arose continual disputes and quarrels. The Pope never came himself to

te and the stud

xisted. He was lodged at an abbey there, and some of the scholars of the University wishing to pay their respects to him, as they said, went in a body to the gates of the abbey and demanded admission; but the porter kept th

nstead of helping them, dipped out a ladle full of hot broth from a kettle and threw it into the student's face. Whereupon the other students cried out, as the ancient chronicler relates it, "What

made by t

for his life, and he fled and concealed himself in the belfry of the abbey. After lying in this place of concealment for some time, until the tu

he remainder of the legate's men that were still imprisoned in the abbey, and also to seize all the students that had been concerned in the riot and bring them to Lon

of the

e compelled to come to London, and there to go barefooted through the principal street to a church where the legate was, and humbl

ssassinat

nst the king on account of some injury, real or imaginary, which he had suffered, that he resolved to kill him. So he feigned himself mad, and in this guise he loitered many days about the palace of Woodstock, where the king was then residing, until at length he became well acquainted with all the localities. Then, watching his opportun

the serv

ion of

th he said that he had been employed to kill the king by another man, a certain William de Marish, who was a noted and prominent man of those days. This William de Marish was afterward taken and brought to trial, but he solemnly denied that he had ever instigated the student to commit the crime. He was, however, condemned and executed, and, according to th

redness of the p

the writers of the time said that in wounding and killing a prince a man was guilty of homicide, parricide, Christicide, and even of deicide, all in one; that is

e times, who might be supposed to know better. But it was so much for their interest to write what should be agreeable to the king and to his court, that they were by no means scr

ests of the people of England, but from the grasping ambition of the kings, who wished to increase the extent of their territories, and thus add to their revenues and to their power. Sometimes their wars aros

rs with Leolin,

ng in the French king's court. The motive of Leolin in making this proposal was not that he bore any love for the Lady Eleanor, for very likely he had never seen her; but she was the daughter of an English earl named Montfort, Earl of Leicester, who wa

ide interce

ent the marriage if he could. He accordingly gave the necessary orders, and the little fleet which was sent from France to convey El

lived near the border, plundering their property, and burning up all the towns and villages that came in his way. There followed a long war. The English were, on the whole, the victors in

py fate o

t was that he had killed, though he knew from his armor that he was some distinguished personage or other. When the battle was ended this man went back to the place to see, and, finding that it was the Prince Leolin whom he had slain, he was greatly pleased. He cut off the head from the body, and sent it as a present to the king. The king sent the head to London, there to be paraded through the streets on the end of a lon

nce David,

Leolin, and, under the pretense that he had been guilty of treason, he cut off his head

acts of g

y. On one occasion, for instance, when this same Edward the First, who was so cruel in his treatment of Leolin, was at war in Scotland, and was besieging a castle there, he wrote one day certain dispatches to send to his council in London, and, havin

n and the box

ust set out on his journey, but before he went he must go back to the castle and have one parting shot at the garrison. Under this pretext, he took his cross-bow and proceeded toward the castle wall; but when he got there, instead

then took him to the governor, who was then at break

and you may read all the sec

nor give him a place on the wall, and see whether he co

me; the most formidable weapon that was then employed was the cross-bow.

rets on the wall, and, calling to the English soldiers whom he saw below, he directed them to tell the King

here to receive him, I will let the man down to them over the wall, an

te of

a rope, and also passed the box of letters down. The King of England was so much pleased with this generosity on the part of the gover

odern title of

would still give them a native of Wales for prince. They thought he meant by this that they should continue to be governed by one of their own royal family; but what he really meant was that he would make his own son Prince of Wales. This son of his was then an infant. He was bor

nglish Prin

aernarvon to see it, and while she was there, her child, Pri

of Wales, which has been held ever since by

RVON C

Gave

ton. This Gaveston was a remarkably handsome youth, and very prepossessing and agreeable in his manners, and he soon gained a complete ascendency over the mind of young Edward. He was, however, very wild and dissolute in his habits, and the influence which he exerted upon Edward was extremely bad. As long as the common people only were injured by the lawless behavior of these young men, the king seems to

. and his

and reckles

e, under the title of Duke of Cornwall; and as for the bishop whose park he and Gaveston had broken into, and on whose complaint Gaveston had been banished, in order to punish him for these offenses, the young king seized him and d

character, was, in fact, a foreigner by birth, being a native of Gascony, in France. His character seemed to grow worse wit

es away to

or France to be married. It was his duty, according to the ancient usages of the realm, to appoint some member of the royal family, or some prominent person from the ancient n

F EDWARD T

nce on the occasio

on in respect

ifested a great impatience to get through with the ceremonies, so as to return to England and to Gaveston. As soon as it was possible, he set out on his return. The bridal party were met at their landing by Gaveston, accompanied by all the principal nobility, who came to receive and welcome them at the frontier. The king was

orona

ts as if he were the principal personage in the country. The old nobles were, of course, extremely indignant at this. Hitherto they had expressed their displeasure at the king's favoritism by private murmurings and complaints, but now, they thought, it was time to take s

mptuous demean

npopu

. He became more and more proud and ostentatious every day. He appeared in all public places, and every where he took precedence of the highest nobles of the land, and prided himself on outshining them in the pomp and parade which he displayed. He attended all the jousts and tournaments, and, as he was really a v

bani

ion to him, and insisted that he should be expelled from the country. A struggle followed, but the king was obliged to yield. Gaveston was required to leave the country, and to ta

part

as soon as he could possibly do it. He immediately began to man?uvre for the accomplishment of this purpose. In the mean time, as Gaveston had only sworn to

k Dog of

on's r

he king's court he behaved more scandalously than ever. He revenged himself upon the nobles who had been the means of sending him away by ridiculing them and giving them nicknames. One of them he called Joseph the Jew, because his face was pal

n made

intention of seizing Gaveston. Both the king and Gaveston, however, succeeded in making their escape. Gaveston fled to a castle, and shut himself up there. The king escaped by sea, leaving his wife behind, at the mercy of the conspirators. The barons treated the queen with respect, but they pressed on at once in pursuit of Gaveston. They laid siege to the cast

to whom he had given the nickname of the Black Dog of Ardenne. The earl was at the head of a large force. He immediately took Gaveston into custody,

ion respe

r to determine what should be done with their prisoner. While they were consulting on the

the fox, and now, if you let him go, you will ha

fa

is piteous cries for mercy, they hurried him away to a solitary place a mile or two from

CK CA

Spen

en and

er. They are called in history the Spencers, or the Despensers. The quarrels and wars which took place between the king and these favorites on one hand, and the barons and nobles on the other, were continued for many years. The queen took sides with the nobles against her husband and the Spencers. She fled to France, and there formed an intimacy with a young nobleman named Mortimer, who joined himself to her, and thenceforth accompanied her and made common cause with her against her husband. With this Mortimer she

I. procla

years old, king, under the title of Edward the Third. In the mean time, the king himself, who had attempted to make his escape by sea, was tossed about in a storm for some days, until at last he was driven on the coast in South Wale

ORTH C

I. made

d of shameful indolence and incapacity, and also of cowardice, cruelty, and oppression, and of having brought the country, by his v

mally deposed

in a simple black gown. The deputation told him that he was no longer king, that all allegiance had been withdrawn from him on the part of the people, and that henceforth he must consider himself as a private man. As they said this, the steward of the household came forward and broke his white wand, the bad

uire the king to a

father voluntarily to abdicate his own rights to it. They were the more desirous in this case of completely and forever extinguishing all of King Edward's claims, because they were afraid that there might be a

OF THOS

of the

of the

ley C

ssassinati

ful d

risoner, and gave them hints that they ought to kill him. In the end, the fallen monarch was transported from one fortress to another, until at length he came to Berkeley Castle. The inducement which led Mortimer and the queen to send the king to these different places was the hope that some one or other of the keepers of the castles would divine their wishes in regard to him, and put him to death. But no one did so. The keeper of Berkeley Castle, indeed, instead of putting his prisoner to death, seemed inclined to take compassion on him, and to treat him more kindly even than the others had done. Accordingly, after waiting some time, Mortimer seized an opportunity when Lord Berkeley, having gone away from home, was detained away some days by sickness, to send two fierce and abandoned men, named Gourney and Ogle, to the castle, with instructions to kill the king in some way or ot

LEY C

tred of

, a great secret hatred of Mortimer among all the old nobility of the realm. This ill-will ripened at last into open hostility. A conspiracy was formed to destroy Mortimer, and to depose the queen-mother from her power, and to place young

the castle

ca

lf was strongly guarded, and every night Isabel required the warden, on locking the gates, to bring the keys to her, and she kept them by her bedside. The governor of the castle, however, made an agreement with Lord Montacute, who was the leader in the conspiracy against Mortim

ILL-SIDE AT NO

conspirators i

e door which led up into the interior of the castle. Here the governor was ready to let them in. As soon as they entered, they were joined by young Edward at the foot of the main tower. They left their torches here, and Edward led them up a secret staircase to a dark chamber. They crept softly into this room and listened. They could hear in an adjo

's unhap

e called him, to spare the gentle Mortimer, "her dearest friend, her well-beloved cousin." The conspirators did spare him at that time; they took him prisoner, and bore him away to a place of safety. He was soon afterward bro

mer's

assage by which Lord Montacute and his party gained admission to the

MER'S