A History and Defence of Magna Charta/A History and Defence of Magna Charta

by Samuel Johnson

 

 

A

History and Defence

OF

MAGNA CHARTA.

e that would animate mankind to the ſupport of freedom, which is their common cauſe, ſhould himſelf feel in an eminent degree, that ardour which he wiſhes to inſpire. Even an enthuſiaſm therein may be deemed a holy rapture, ſince that by which it is produced is the cauſe of God; and is ſo great a good to the firſt order in his creation.

This being premiſed, ſuffer me, my dear friends and fellow citizens, to intreat you to let your ſons ſucceed to that liberty which you have ſo comfortably enjoyed—for which your fathers have fought, with ſo much ardour, and with ſo much glory.—For which they ſuſtained ſo many labours, ſo much grief, ſuch multitudes of dangers, under the heavy hands of ſubtile prieſts, and of evil kings.

They ſped in all theſe toilſome warfares. And how could they have failed? The nerves of men in a cauſe ſo noble are endued with double vigour. The general ardour is derived to each, becauſe,

“When men, for this, aſſault a throne,
Each adds the common welfare to his own;
And each unconquer’d heart the ſtrength of all acquires.”

We have lived to fee the moſt valuable part of the charter of our moſt ſacred rights daringly invaded—but we will not live to ſee it deſtroyed. The wounds by which it falls ſhall firſt reach our hearts, and the rich torrents of our blood be ſhed as a libation on the pile of expiring freedom.

Let us preſerve the Great Charter of our liberties with the ſame firmneſs as that by which it was obtained, and by which it has been preſerved to us againſt the repeated attacks of wicked and abandoned traitors, and this is only to be done by the firmneſs and intrepidity of Engliſhmen.

But, that my countrymen may learn throughly to underſtand the value of their birthright, I ſhall give the hiſtory of Magna Charta, together with a defence of it, in the homely language of an honeſt man, againſt the aſperſions thrown on it by Laud and many others, and now revived by thoſe who are the enemies of our liberties, and are therefore the enemies of our peace.

In order to this I ſhall firſt ſhew, That Magna Charta is much elder than K. John’s time, and conſequently that its birth cannot be blemiſhed with any thing that was done in his reign, though his confirmation of it had been really extorted by rebellion. Secondly, That the confirmations which were had and procured to it in K. John’s and Henry the third’s time, were far from being gained by rebellion.

First, The contents of Magna Charta is the undoubted inheritance of England, being their antient and approved laws; ſo antient, that they ſeem to be of the ſame ſtanding with the nation, and ſo well approved, that Fortescue^[1], applauding our laws, triumphs in this, That they paſſed through all the Britiſh, Roman, Daniſh, Saxon, and Norman times, with little or no alteration in the main. Now, ſays he, if they had not been liked by theſe people, they would have been altered. Accordingly, in this laſt Norman revolution K. William I. (falſly and flatteringly called the conqueror) ſwore to the inviolable obſervation of them under this title, of “The good, antient, and approved laws of the realm,” and particularly and by name, K. Edward’s laws. So antient is the matter and ſubſtance of Magna Charta.

Secondly, Nor was the manner and form of granting theſe laws by charter, or under hand and ſeal, with the confirmation of an oath over and above the coronation-oath, any new invention or innovation at all, for as William I. began it, ſo I am ſure that Henry I. and K. Stephen, and Henry II. did the ſame before: and therefore if the obſcure birth of Magna Charta was in K. John’s time, it was then born with a grey beard, for it was in being in his great grandfather’s reign.

For, thirdly, That very charter of his great grandfather Henry I. was the ground and reaſon of the parliament’s inſiſting upon having the like confirmation of their liberties by K. John, and was the copy by which they went. For though K. John, at his abſolution at Wincheſter^[2] from the pope’s ſentence and excommunication, had ſolemnly ſwore to reſtore the good laws of his predeceſſors, and particularly thoſe of K. Edward; and though preſently after, at a parliament at St. Alban’s, the laws of K. Henry I. were ordained to be obſerved throughout all England, and all bad laws to be aboliſhed: yet, contrary to both theſe late engagements, he was marching an army in all haſte to fall upon ſeveral of his barons, who had lately failed in following him in an intended expedition into France. But the archbiſhop ſtopped him in his career, by following him to Northampton, and there telling him that it would be a breach of his oath at his late abſolution, to make war upon his ſubjects without judgment in parliament. The King huffed him, and told him, “That this was lay buſineſs, and that he would not delay buſineſs of the kingdom for him;” and by break of day, next morning, marched haſtily towards Nottingham. The archbiſhop ſtill followed him, aſſuring him that he would excommunicate all his followers, if they proceeded any farther in this hoſtile way; and never left him till he had ſet a day for a parliament, that the barons might there anſwer it.

This parliament was held at London, in St. Paul’s church; where, before it ended, the archbiſhop took ſome of the lords apart, and put them in mind how he made the king ſwear at Wincheſter to reſtore the good laws of King Edward, and cauſe them to be obſerved by all the realm. And now, ſays he, there is likewiſe found a certain charter of Henry I. King of England, by which, if you pleaſe, you may be able to reſtore your long loſt liberties to their former ſtate and condition; and, producing the charter, he cauſed it to be read all over in their hearing: which the lords having heard and underſtood, were overjoyed, and ſwore in the preſence of the archbiſhop, “That when they ſaw it convenient for their liberties, if need were, they would ſpend their “lives.” The archbiſhop, for his part, promiſed them his moſt faithful aid and aſſiſtance to the utmoſt of his power, and after this aſſociation was thus entered into, the parliament broke up.

There had paſſed but one hundred and thirteen years ſince the grant of Henry the firſt’s charter: and, though there were then made as many charters as there were ſhires (directed to the ſheriff of every county to proclaim them, for this is directed to Hugh de Bocland, ſheriff of Herefordſhire) and, by the king’s expreſs order, were to be laid up in the abbies of the ſeveral counties for a monument; yet, becauſe the thing was beyond the memory of man, and that age not very converſant with book learning or records, it ſeems not to be known to them; and the archbiſhop ſays, “Inventa eſt quoque nunc charta quædam Hen. I.” But, when the lords had once ſeen it, they were, ſo fond of it, that they got it from the archbiſhop: and the next year, about Michaelmas, when the King was returning out of France, the earls and barons met at St. Edmund’s bury, it might be thought for devotion, but it was to conſult about their liberties; and there the charter of Henry I. which contained their laws and liberties was again produced and treated of among them. After which they all went to the high altar, and there ſwore in order, beginning at the greateſt, “That, if the King ſhould refuſe to confirm by his charter the ſaid laws and liberties (being the rights of the kingdom) they would make war upon him till he did.” And likewiſe at laſt by common conſent they came to this reſolution, “That they would go together to the King after Chriſtmas, and deſire him to confirm the ſaid libertie. And, in the mean time, that they would make ſuch proviſion of horſes and arms; that, in caſe the king ſhould ſtart from his late oath, wherein he promiſed it (which they had too much reaſon to believe, becauſe of his doubleneſs) they might then compel him to performance by ſeizing his caſtles.”

Accordingly, after Chriſtmas they came to the King in a gay military habit, and deſired the confirmation of their antient liberties, as they were contained in writing in the charter of Henry I. and the laws of K. Edward. They affirmed likewiſe, that by his oath at Wincheſter, he had promiſed thoſe laws and liberties, and that he was already bound to keep them by his own oath. The king ſeeing the conſtancy and reſolution of the barons in their demand, did not think fit to deny them, but deſired reſpite and time to conſider of it, being a weighty buſineſs, till after Eaſter; and after ſeveral propoſals on both ſides, the King very unwillingly ſet a day, and the archbiſhop, biſhop of Ely, and lord marſhal were his ſureties, that then they ſhould all of them have ſatisfaction given them in reaſon. Upon this the lords went home. But the King in the mean time, by way of precaution, cauſed the whole realm to ſwear fealty to him alone againſt all men, and to renew their homages. And as a farther ſecurity and protection, more than out of devotion, at Candlemas following he took upon him the croſs.

In Eaſter week the forementioned lords met at Stanford, who now had drawn together in favour of them almoſt all the nobility and principal gentry of England: ſo that they amounted to a numerous army; and the ſooner, becauſe K. John had rendered himſelf univerſally hated. In this retinue were two thouſand knights, beſides all others of lower rank, horſe and foot diverſly armed. The King was then at Oxford expecting the coming of the parliament. On the Monday following theſe aſſociated barons came to Brackley; which, when the King underſtood, he ſent to them the archbiſhop, the lord marſhal, earl of Pembroke, and ſeveral other ſage perſons, to know what were the laws and liberties they required; which they preſently delivered in a ſchedule to thoſe that came from the King, affirming, That if he would not forthwith confirm them under his ſeal, they would compel him, by ſeizing his caſtles, lands, and poſſeſſions, till he gave them competent ſatisfaction in the premiſes. Then the archbiſhop, with the reſt of his company, carrying this ſchedule to the king, rehearſed all the chapters or heads of it before him memoriter. But when the King underſtood, the purport of it he laughed and ſaid with the utmoſt indignation and ſcorn, “And why do not the barons, together with theſe unjuſt demands, demand my kingdom? The things they aſk,” ſaid he, “are idle and ſuperſtitious, and not ſupported by any title or pretence of reaſon.” And at length, in a great rage he affirmed with an oath, that he would never grant them ſuch liberties, whereby he himſelf ſhould be made a ſervant.

When, therefore, the archbiſhop and earl of Pembroke could, in no wiſe, gain the King’s conſent to theſe liberties, by his command they returned to the barons, and there reported juſt what the King had ſaid in order. Whereupon the barons preſently choſe them a general, and flew to their arms, and marched directly to Northampton to ſeize that caſtle. But having ſpent fifteen days in that fruitleſs attempt, having no petards nor other warlike inſtruments to carry on a ſiege, ſomewhat abaſhed with this diſappointment, they marched to Bedford, where they were kindly received; and by meſſengers ſent to them from the principal citizens, were invited to London. When they were come thither, they ſent letters to all the earls, barons, and knights, that as yet ſeemed to adhere to the King, though it were but feignedly; that as they tendered their eſtates, they ſhould leave a perjured King, and come and join them, and effectually engage with them for the liberties and peace of the realm: otherwiſe, they threatened to treat them as public enemies. Upon which, moſt of the lords, who had not as yet ſworn to the ſaid liberties, wholly leaving the King, came to London, and there aſſociated with the barons.

“King John, ſeeing himſelf thus generally forſaken, ſo that he had hardly ſven knights remaining with him, and fearing, leſt the barons ſhould inſult his camp, which they might eaſily have done without oppoſition, he betook himſelf to fraud and diſſembling, pretending peace, when he had immortal war in his heart, reſolving hereafter to oppreſs the barons ſingly, whom he could not all at once. He therefore ſends to them the earl of Pembroke and other perſons of credit with this meſſage, “That for the benefit of peace, and for the advancement and honour of his realm, he would willingly grant them the laws and liberties which they deſired,” leaving to the barons to appoint a convenient time and place for the performance. They very gladly ſet the King a day, to meet June 15, at Running-mead, betwixt Stanes and Windſor, an antient for the meeting of parliaments.

The King and the lords accordingly met, and their parties ſitting aſunder, and keeping to their own ſide, treated of the peace and the liberties a good while. There were preſent, as it were of the King’s party, the archbiſhop, and about thirty principal perſons more, whom Matthew Paris names; but, ſays he, they that were on the barons’ ſide were paſt reckoning, ſeeing the whole nobility of England gathered together in a body ſeemed not to fall under number. At length, after they had treated in ſeveral ſorts, the King ſeeing the barons were too powerful for him, made no difficulty to grant them the laws and liberties underwritten, and to confirm them in his charter in this manner.

Here follows Magna Charta in Matthew Paris^[3]. And becauſe there was not room for the liberties and free cuſtoms of the foreſt in the ſame parchment, they were contained in another charter, De Foreſta. And then follows the ſecurity for them both.

After this the King ſent his letters patent to all the ſheriffs in England, to cauſe all perſons, of what condition ſoever, to ſwear, That they would obſerve theſe aforeſaid laws and liberties, and to the utmoſt of their power, diſtreſs the King by ſeizing his caſtles, and otherwiſe ſtraiten him to the execution and performance of all things contained in the charter. At laſt, the parliament being ended, the barons returned to London with their Charters.

Thus have I given you a ſhort view of the noble conduct of the barons in their manner of obtaining the confirmation of their charter from K. John. The reſtitution of Magna Charta you may call it, for the birth of it you ſee it was not. What I have recited is undoubted hiſtory and record, and clear matter of fact. And I have confined myſelf only to theſe three laſt years, in which the barons were in purſuit of this buſineſs, and took the quickeſt ſteps towards it; and above all, were put into a right method by the advice of Stephen Langton, the archbiſhop, to claim their eſtate with the writings of it in their hand. For above a dozen years before, in the third of this King’s reign upon a ſummon of his to the earls and barons to attend him with horſe and arms into Normandy, they held a conference together at Leiceſter, and by general conſent they ſent him word, “That unleſs he would render them their rights and liberties, they would not attend him out of the kingdom.” But that impotent demand of their liberties, by the by, did them no good, but expoſed them to ſtill more and more intolerable oppreſſions. They ſhould have gone to him according to their ſummons, they ſhould not have sent. Not to mention that his faith was plighted by the archbiſhop Hubert, William lord marſhal earl of Pembroke, Geoffrey Fitz-Peter, chief juſticiary of England, (whom he ſent as his commiſſioners to claim and keep the peace immediately after the death of his brother Richard) “That the earl John would reſtore all men their rights.”

This was done at an aſſembly of the peers at Northampton, before his coming out of Normandy to be crowned. “Sub tali igitur conventione comites & barones comiti Johanni fidelitatem contra omnes homines juraverunt.” Upon theſe terms, and no otherwiſe, the barons ſwore fealty to him: which made K. John ſo much rejoice at Geoffrey Fitz-Peter’s death, and ſwear, “That then, and not before, he was king and lord of England.” For, from thenceforward, ſays Paris, he was more at liberty to contravene his oaths and covenants, which with this Geoffrey he had made ſore againſt his will, and looſe himſelf from the bonds of the peace he had entered into. Now theſe pacts and covenants are clearly that before his coronation, which I have juſt now recited, and that this parliament at St. Alban’s, anno 1213, not a year before this great man’s death. Where the King’s peace was publicly declared to all his people, and it was ſtrictly commanded, on the King’s behalf “That the laws of his great grandfather, Henry I. ſhould be kept by the whole realm, and all unjuſt laws aboliſhed.” In both theſe affairs he tranſacted for the king, having in this laſt, together with the biſhop of Wincheſter, the government of the kingdom committed to him, the King being then abſent, on his way to France.

Thus the barons at laſt have their long loſt rights reſtored and confirmed, to the univerſal joy of the nation: but this is ſoon overcaſt. For King John immediately reſolves to undo all that he had done, being prompted thereto, not only by his own arbitrary and tyrannical diſpoſition, but alſo by his foreign mercenaries, whom he had long made his favourites and confidents, while he looked upon his own natural ſubjects as abjects. The Flanders Ruyters, or cavaliers, who now by Magna Charta were expreſsly, and by name, ordered to be expelled the kingdom, as a nuiſance to the realm; theſe being grown his ſaucy familiars, ſo followed him with deriſion, and reproaches, “For unkinging himſelf by theſe conceſſions, and making himſelf a cypher, and our ſovereign lord of no dominions, a ſlave to his ſubjects,” and the like, that they made him ſtark mad: and being given over to rage and revenge, he privately retires to the Iſle of Wight, where, as Paris ſays, he provides himſelf of St. Peter’s two ſwords. He ſends to the pope, whom he bribes with a large ſum of money, beſides his former ſurrender of the kingdom, to cancel and annul Magna Charta, and to confound it with his apoſtolical authority; and withal, to excommunicate the barons for it: and at the ſame time he ſends the biſhop of Worceſter lord chancellor of England, the biſhop of Norwich, and ſeveral other perſons, to all the neighbouring countries, to gather together all the foreign forces they could, by promiſes of lands and poſſeſſions; and if need were, to make them grants under the great ſeal, and to bring them all to Dover by Michaelmas.

This three months he ſpent incognito, in and about the Iſle of Wight, coaſting and ſkulking about, and ſome times exerciſing piracy out at ſea; ſo that it was not then known where he was, nor what was become of him; but thus he whiled away the time, contemplating his treaſon, and waiting for the incomprehenſible enemy-friends he had ſent for. I know not whether this deſertion, and not providing for the government in his abſence, and ſending the great ſeal of England, upon ſuch an errand, out of the realm, may not, with ſome men, amount to a modern abdication; but I am ſure that this, which follows, is enough to juſtify the expulſion of a whole race of Tarquins. After Michaelmas he ſailed to dover to meet his outlandiſh ſcum, with which he invades his own kingdom. Such an execrable deſperate crew never ſet foot upon Engliſh ground, ſo fitted for miſchief, and that thirſted after nothing more than human blood, whom his agents had drawn together out of Poictou, Gaſcony, Lovain, Brabant, Flanders, and weeded all the neighbouring continent for them. Theſe made up a vaſt army, notwithſtanding the ſhipwreck of Hugh de Boves, who was bringing forty thouſand more, beſides women and children, who all periſhed in a ſtorm betwixt Calais and Dover. This freight of women and children, ſeveral of whom were afterwards driven aſhore in their cradles, were intended to plant the two counties of Norfolk and Suffolk, after the extirpation of the Engliſh; for it is ſaid, that this Hugh had a charter of inheritance given him of theſe two provinces.

But with theſe forces he had, he over-run England and waſted it with fire and ſword in ſuch a manner, as no Engliſhman can read the hiſtory of it without being in pain and torment. There is ſuch a ſcene in Matt. Paris, p. 276. as was never ſeen again, unleſs in the French and Iriſh maſſacres: it looks like hell broke looſe. For theſe Satellites Satanæ, the Devil’s life-guard, as Matt. Paris calls them, ſeemed to have prepenſed malice againſt mankind; and being led on “a crudeli rege, imò cruento tyranno,” by a cruel King, nay, it was a bloody tyrant; no furies could put innocent people in cold blood, of all ages and conditions, to more exquiſite tortures, nor ſport themſelves more in making havoc and deſolation than they did. And with this horrid ravage he over-run England, and proceeded as far as Berwick in half a year’s time; all the caſtles of the barons falling to him, either ſurrendered, or for the moſt part abandoned.

In the mean time, moſt of the barons were at London, where we left them, making holiday for the grant of Magna Charta, and pleaſing themſelves, that after ſo long oppreſſion and Ægyptian bondage, the liberties of England were reſtored again in their days. They thought, likewiſe, that God had touch’d the King’s heart, and he was become a new man, and meant the good faith he had ſworn, and flattered themſelves that he would, from henceforward, inviolably obſerve their charters. But they were interrupted in this thought by the private intelligence they had, that he had given orders to his foreigners, in whom his ſoul truſted, to fortify and furniſh his caſtles with men and provision and to ſtore them with all manner of artillery; but to do it ſo warily, that it might not come to the knowledge of the barons. This boded no good; for here was Magna Charta concerning the expulſion of foreigners broken already: and therefore, ſome of the barons went to the King at Windſor, to know more of this matter, and to try, by gentle and wholeſome advice, to bring him to a better mind. He received them with a blithe countenance, and thereby palliated the inward venom; and ſwearing by God’s feet, he aſſured them, that he had no ill purpoſe, and bantered and laughed them out of their ſtory. Nevertheleſs, before they left him, they gathered ſuch marks of his averſion to them, and that all was not well, that they went back to London lamenting, and ſaying, “Woe to us and to all England, which wants a King that will ſpeak truth, and is oppreſſed by a falſe underhand tyrant, that uſes his utmoſt endeavours to ſubvert a miſerable kingdom.”

The very night after this conference with the barons, it was, that he ſole away from Windſor to the Iſle of Wight, and there laid his helliſh plot againſt the nation: which was ſo deep, that it did not enter into the hearts of the barons to ſuſpect or imagine. They had now recovered the rights of the nation, which was nothing but their own, and had been moſt unjuſtly detained from them; and they never intended to have, nor fought for, more. But, becauſe the King went away in a bad mind, and becauſe they had certain notice that nothing but their departure from London was wanted in order to ſurpriſe it; they therefore adjourned their tournament, which they lad before appointed on the Monday after the feaſt of St. Peter and St. Paul at Stanford; to be held the Monday ſevennight after at Hounſlow, near London, both for the ſafety of the city and their own. This they certified in their letter to William Albinet, who was gone down to his caſtle of Beauvoir, and withal deſired him by all means to make one at it, and to come up well provided with horſes and arms; that he might win honour. For he who performed beſt was to have a bear, which a certain lady would ſend to the tournament. With ſuch frivolous and idle actions, ſays Matthew Paris, did they entertain themſelves; little knowing what cunning ſnares were laid for them.

Still they remained at London; and, for want of better employment, ſpent their time yet more vainly, in eating and drinking, and ſitting up all night at the expenſive dye, which however does not look like plotting; for, if they had been ſo minded, it had been eaſy for them, in the King’s abſence, to have taken very great advantages againſt him. But they, meaning no hurt, had reaſon to expect none; and therefore the invaſion after Michaelmas fell ſuddenly upon them like a tempeſt, or Hugh de Boves’s ſtorm. And being wholly unprovided to reſiſt ſuch an inundation as this, they thought the beſt way to put ſome ſtop to it, would be by preſently throwing in a good garriſon into the caſtle of Rocheſter, that the King might not come immediately to beſiege London. Accordingly they made choice of William d’Albinet who was juſt come from his own caſtle, and a noble band of ſeven-ſcore knights with their retinue for this ſervice. When they came thither, they found nothing but bare walls, neither proviſion, nor arms, nor any thing but what they had brought along with them; inſomuch that many of the noblemen repented their coming down, and would have returned; but William d’Albinet over-perſuaded them to ſtay, and told them it would be diſhonourable to deſert what they had undertaken. They therefore got together what proviſion they could out of the town in that ſhort ſpace, for within three days the King and his army were with them, and had blocked them up. There they behaved themſelves like great men; but the ſiege laſting long, they were ſo ſtraitened for proviſions, that they were forced at laſt to eat their horſes. Being thus in diſtreſs, the barons at London, though of the lateſt, remembered their oath, to relieve them in caſe they were beſieged, and marched out with a pompous army as far as Dartford; but there the gentle ſouth-wind met them, and blew in their faces and though it uſed not to be troubleſome to any body elſe, yet it drove them back, as if it had been drawn ſwords, to their known den at London. This ſcoffing reaſon is all that Matthew Paris will give for their ſhameful retreat, and deſerting their companions; but, no doubt, it was ſome panic fright from the reports of the country, concerning the numbers and condition of the King’s army: for he himſelf elſewhere tells us, That they were ſuch as ſtruck a terror into every body that beheld them. This piece of cowardice makes the King inſult, and puſh on the ſiege with the greater fury, which only loſt him the more men: for they defended themſelves to a miracle, and loſt but one knight during the whole ſiege. But at laſt their proviſion failed them; and, when they had not one morſel left, on St. Andrew’s day, they all went out and ſurrendered themſelves to mercy. The King immediately ordered them, barons and all, to be hanged up. But in this, Savaricus de Mallaleone, who was himſelf a nobleman, withſtood him to the face, and told him, that as yet, it was but a young war, and no body knew what the chances of it might be: it might be his hap, or any nobleman’s elſe, to fall into the hands of the barons, who would be taught, by this example of his, how to uſe them, and that no body would ſerve him upon theſe terms. With much ado the King yielded to his advice, though it was likewiſe the opinion of all the wiſeſt about him: and ſo he ſent William Albinet, and many others to be kept cloſe priſoners in Corf caſtle, others to Nottingham and other priſons, but gratified his cruelty in hanging up their ſervants.

One day, during this ſiege, the King and Savaric were viewing the caſtle, to diſcover where it was weakeſt. The beſt markſman that William d’Albinet had, knew him, and ſaid, “My lord, may it pleaſe you, ſhall I now kill the King, our bloody enemy, with this dart, which I have here ready?” “No, no,” ſays he, “you wicked glutton; God forbid that we ſhould procure the death of the Lord’s anointed!” Says the other, “If it were your caſe, he would not ſpare you.” Says William, “God’s will be done, God ſhall diſpoſe of that, not I.” Herein, fays Matthew Paris, he was like David ſparing Saul, when he could have killed him. This paſſage was not unknown to the King, and yet, for all that, he would not ſpare him when he was his captive, but would have hanged him if he had been ſuffered to do it.

After the ſiege of Rocheſter caſtle, where the flower of the barons was loſt, King John, notwithſtanding, did not think fit to attempt London (where, though the barons did not judge themſelves able to take the field, yet were deſperately reſolved to live and die together) but he marched to St. Alban’s, and the 20th of December divided his army into two; one of which he himſelf led to lay waſte with fire and ſword northwards; the other he left to do as much for all the neighbouring counties about London, and to be ſure to keep that place blocked np. ue, with his army, lay the firſt night at Dunſtable; but after a little reſt, he was ſo intent upon his buſineſs, that before day he marched toward Northampton, and carried ſuch a Chriſtmas into thoſe parts, as they never had ſeen. For beſides his plundering and deſtroying all the houſes, parks, and poſſeſſions of the barons, his manner was ſtill, as he went along, to order his incendiaries to fire the hedges and villages, which could not be turned into plunder, “That he might refreſh his ſight with the damages of his enemies;” Matt. Paris, recalling that word, “If,” ſays he, “they are to be called his enemies, who were only willing to introduce him into the way of juſtice and humanity.” They were, indeed, his beſt friends in it, but they paid very dear for that good office.

For before this, the ſpiritual ſword came likewiſe brandiſhing out againſt them, and they were run through and through with the pope’s excommunications. He firſt iſſued out a general excommunication againſt them, which they did not mind, nor think themſelves concerned in, as being not named in it, nor indeed deſcribed. For they were none of the diſturbers of the peace that were there mentioned, who turned the kingdom upſide down, and were worſe than the Saracens, for endeavouring to expel their croſs-bearing King from his realm (which they had never attempted nor intended) who, as he had engaged himſelf, ſo it was to be hoped he would accordingly go and ſuccour the holy land. And therefore the pope was forced to curſe them over again by name; and reciting ſome of the principal of them, he involved all their partakers and adherents in the ſame condemnation; and to make ſure work, he laid the city of London under an interdict. As for their poor charter, that was very ſhort-lived, for it bears date June 14, and was made void and diſannulled by the pope the Bartholemew-day following. The barons, indeed, deſpiſed all theſe ſwaggering proceedings of the pope againſt them, as knowing that the cauſleſs curſe will never come, and alledging, that it was all upon falſe ſuggeſtions, and that he uſurped an authority in matters which did not lie before him. “For who made him a judge, or divider of inheritances?” A power which St. Peter never had, and which his humble maſter declined when it was offered him. But though this pontifical ware was regarded at London as it deſerved, where the prelates likewiſe did not think fit to publiſh it, yet in that ſuperſtitious age it could not fail to influence weak minds, when all the ſubjects of England were enjoined to be aiding to King John againſt the barons, for the remiſſion of their ſins. For who that had a ſoul to ſave, would not kill a baron if he could? It was King John’s holy war. And it muſt needs ſtrangely heighten and animate his inſolent crew, to ſee themſelves thus backed with divine authority, and would make them play the Devil in God’s name. Thus the ſword helped the ſword, and the ſpiritual one whetted and ſet an edge upon the material.

It was the miſery of the barons to have their country over-run in this manner, and not be in a condition to help it. As for their own loſſes, they did not mind them. When meſſengers came thick with bad tidings, that their caſtles and poſſeſſions were gone and deſtroyed, they only looked upon one another, and ſaid, “The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away.” When they heard how their wives and daughters were abuſed, they vented themſelves by inveighing bitterly “Againſt the pope and his moſt dearly beloved ſon in Christ, John.” But when they thought of England, England, then they lamented indeed, and laid the ruin of it deeply to heart. And reſolving to have done with ſuch a barbarous tyrant, and to chuſe a new King; after ſome debate, they unanimouſly agreed upon Lewis, the dauphin of France. Their main reaſon was, becauſe the moſt of K. John’s army being ſubjects of France, upon the firſt appearance of Lewis, they would be apt to join him, and leave K. John, whereby of neceſſity he would be ſoon brought to reaſon, and in all probability, it would be a very ſhort war. Lewis readily accepted their offer, and came over upon the ſecurity of twenty-four of the principal barons’ ſons for hoſtages; and being joyfully received at London by the barons, had homage and fealty ſworn to him, and he himſelf ſwore “To reſtore them their good laws, and their loſt inheritances.” After which, he wrote to the King of Scotland to come and do him homage, and to all the great men of England to come and do the like, or elſe immediately depart the kingdom. Upon which, the earls of Warren, Arundel, Saliſbury, K. John’s brother, and the earl marſhal’s ſon, with many others, readily obeyed this ſummons, and left K. John, as did his foreigners, all but the Poitovins; ſome of them returning home with their ſpoils, and the reſt coming over to the dauphin.

From the firſt arrival of Lewis, K. John never ſtood his ground; and though he came with his great army to Dover to hinder his landing, yet he durſt not truſt that army to engage, but leaving a ſtrong garriſon in Dover caſtle, he took a run to Guilford, and from thence to Wincheſter without ſtopping: whereby he both gave Lewis a free paſſage to London to join the barons, and alſo loſt moſt of his new conqueſts in leſs time than he gained them. But the King of France undervalued all his ſon’s ſucceſſes, ſwearing that he had not gotten one foot of ground in England till he was poſſeſſed of Dover caſtle, which made him undertake a vigorous, though fruitleſs ſiege of that place: where, in a ſhort time, the King of Scotland came and did him homage.

But, while the dauphin was engaged in that ſiege, there happened an accident which altered the whole ſcene of affairs. The viſcount of Melun, a nobleman of France, who came over with Lewis, fell very ſick at London. And, finding himſelf at the point of death, he ſent for ſome of the barons of England, who were left to take care of the city, to come to ſpeak with him; to whom he ſaid, “I am grieved for you, at the thoughts of your deſolation and deſtruction, becauſe you are wholly ignorant of the perils that hang over your heads; for Lewis has taken an oath, and ſixteen earls and barons of France with him, that, if ever he get England, and be crowned King, he will condemn all the barons that are now in arms with him againſt K. John, to perpetual baniſhment, as traitors againſt their ſovereign lord, and will extirpate the whole race of them out of the land. And leſt you ſhould doubt of the truth of this, I that lie here ready to die, do affirm to you upon the peril of my ſoul, that I myſelf was one of thoſe that were engaged with Lewis in this oath. Wherefore I now counſel you, by all means, to look carefully to yourſelves hereafter, and to make the beſt uſe of what I have told you, and to keep it under the ſeal of ſecrecy.” When this nobleman had thus ſaid, forthwith he expired. When this dying ſecret came to be ſpread amongſt the reſt of the barons, they were ſadly caſt down, finding themſelves ſurrounded with difficulties, and perplexed on every ſide. For, as a concurrent proof of what viſcount Melun had ſaid, Lewis, inſtead of reſtoring them to their rights, according to his oath, had given all the lands and caſtles of the barons, as faſt as he won them, to his own Frenchmen: and though the barons grumbled at this, yet they could not prevent it. But what they laid moſt to heart was, that he had branded them as traitors. They were excommunicated every day, and deſpoiled of all terrene honour, and driven to all extremities of body and ſoul. In this miſerable perplexity, many of them thought of returning and reconciling themſelves to K. John, but that the breach was too wide. They were plainly at their wits end, and were willing to do any thing to be rid of this perjured and perfidious foreigner, who had thus ungratefully entered into a deſperate conſpiracy againſt them.

During this tedious ſiege of Dover caſtle, where Lewis and many of his barons were ſure to be maintained, K. John, who had been dodging up and down, took this opportunity of making a terrible inroad into the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk, where he made his uſual progreſs northward; as if he had taken up a reſolution to live and die in his calling. For one of the laſt things he did before he ſickened, was burning to aſhes all the ſtacks of corn as he went along, in all the manors of the abbot of Croyland, which were but juſt inned that harveſt. He was firſt indiſpoſed at Swinſhed abby, but his illneſs increaſing, he could hardly reach Newark caſtle; and there, by the advice of the abbot Croestoun, he confeſſed, and received ſacrament. After which he appointed his eldeſt ſon Henry, his heir, and ordered the realm to ſwear to him, and ſent his letters under his ſeal to all the ſheriffs and caſtellans of the kingdom to be attendant on him. Juſt when he was dying, there arrived meſſengers from ſome of the barons, about forty of them, with letters to be reconciled to him; but he was not in a condition to mind ſuch affairs.

In ten days time after K. John’s death, that party which had adhered to him, with Guallo the pope’s legate, made haſte to crown his ſon at Glouceſter. And becauſe he was not yet ten years old, and ſo no ways concerned in the deteſted cruelties of his father, and might be uſed as an expedient to drive out an already hated and inſolent foreigner, he was preſently accepted by the kingdom; while on the other hand, upon the firſt knowledge of K. John’s death, Lewis had, in this own conceit, wholly ſubdued and ſwallowed up the kingdom: but he found the contrary in ſummoning Dover caſtle upon this occaſion, thinking to have had the caſtle for his news; for he met with ſuch a reſolute denial as he took for an anſwer, and broke up the ſiege. Afterwards he took ſome few places; but the young King’s party fill increaſing, and many of the barons, by degrees, falling from him, and the forces he had ſent for out of France being utterly defeated at ſea, and all ſunk or taken, and he and the barons that were with him being cloſely beſieged in the city of London, he was forced to come to this compoſition: “That Lewis and all his foreigners ſhould depart the kingdom, and that he ſhould never lay claim to it hereafter, but reſtore what belonged to the King in France, and to have fifteen thouſand marks for his voyage.” And on the other hand, the King, the legate, and the great marſhal, being protector, ſwore, “That they would reſtore to the barons, and all others of the realm, all their rights and inheritances, with all thoſe liberties which they had before demanded, for which the war had begun betwixt K. John and the barons.” This compoſition was made by both parties in an iſland in the Thames, near the town of Stains, September 11, A. D. 1217.

So that within two years and three months Magna Charta had been granted, and deſtroyed and damned by the pope; and revived, and renewed again by freſh oaths, and that even of the pope’s legate.

I shall very briefly ſhew what fate it had in the reign of Henry III. for I do not remember any fighting about the confirmation of it in any ſucceeding reign; wherein I ſhall only recite the matter of fact, reſerving the matter of right till afterwards.

In the fifth year of his reign he was crowned again at Weſtminſter, and three years after, which was the eighteenth of his age, at a parliament at London, he was deſired by the archbiſhop and the other lords to confirm the liberties and free cuſtoms for which the war was firſt moved againſt his father. And, as the archbiſhop evidently ſhewed, the King could not decline the doing of it; becauſe, upon the departure of Lewis out of England, he himſelf had ſworn, and all the nobility of the realm with him, that they would obſerve all the ſaid liberties, and have all others obſerve them. Upon which, William Brewer, who was one of the privy council made anſwer in behalf of the King, ſaying, “The liberties you deſire ought not in juſtice to be obſerved, becauſe they were extorted by violence.” Which ſpeech the archbiſhop taking very ill, rebuked him: “William, quoth he, if you loved the King, you would not be a hindrance to the peace of the kingdom.” But the King, ſeeing the archbiſhop going to be very angry, ſaid, “We have all of us ſworn to theſe liberties and we are all bound to obſerve what we have ſworn.” And, forthwith taking advice upon it, ſent his letters to the ſheriff of every county, to cauſe twelve knights or legal men to make an inquiſition upon oath what were the liberties of England in the time of K. Henry, his grandfather, and to make him a return of it by a certain day.

This vowing, and afterwards making inquiry was ill reſented, and was one of the falſe ſhifts which were ſo peculiar to that prince. The motion of the archbiſhop was ſo manifeſtly neceſſary for the ſettling the young King in his throne, that our hiſtorian Daniel, ſays, it was impiouſly oppugned by William Brewer: and, indeed, the reflections he makes on the whole paſſage are very remarkable from the pen of a courtier. I only obſerve, that William Brewer was the fitteſt interpreter of an arbitrary prince’s mind; for he was an old arbitrary inſtrument, and one of King John’s generals in his barbarous invaſion: and though he himſelf had ſince ſworn to Magna Charta, that made no matter; for ſuch falſe changes and converſions always turn cat again, as ſoon as they find game, and ſpy a mouſe.

The next year the King being declared by the pope’s bull of full age, and Lewis being now King of France, and keeping poſſeſſion of all the King’s dominions beyond the ſeas, at a parliament held at Weſtminſter, he deſired a fifteenth for the recovery of them. And though many of the earls and barons had thereby loft their inheritances as well as the King, yet, the whole aſſembly agreed in this anſwer: “That they would freely grant the King what he deſired, but upon condition, if he would grant them their long deſired liberties.” The King, out of covetouſneſs of this aid, has charters preſently written and ſealed, and ſent to all the counties, and an oath in writing, for all men to ſwear to them, while Richard, the King’s brother, becauſe they had hitherto been ill kept, cried out they were cozening charters.

Matthew Paris ſays, he therefore forbears to recite the tenour of theſe charters, becauſe he had done it before in K. John’s reign, for the charters of both Kings were alike. “In nullo inveniuntur diſſimiles.”

Two years the land reſted, enjoying their liberties which were punctually kept, till the King at a parliament at Oxford declared himſelf to be of full age, and took that occaſion to have a new ſeal, and to cancel the charter of the foreſts, as granted in his minority, and to cauſe all that would enjoy the benefit of that charter, to take out particular charters, under his new ſeal: for which they paid exorbitant fines, ſuch as his chief juſticiary pleaſed.

Upon this, and a great oppreſſion of his brother Richard ſoon after, the earls and barons were up in arms, and had drawn together a great body of men at Stanford, from whence they fend him a meſſage in very big words, That he, forthwith, make amends to his brother for the injury done him, the fault of which they lay upon the juſticiary; and that he ſhould immediately reſtore the charters of the foreſt which he had cancelled at Oxford, and ſend them to them ſealed, grievouſly denouncing, “That otherwiſe they would compel him with their ſwords.” Whereupon, he called a parliament to Northampton, and gave them full ſatisfaction for their demands.

Six years after, the barons had an outrageous violation of Magna Charta to complain of, and a intolerable grievance to the nation: For the King had for only filled the office of his court with Poitovins, to the great oppreſſion of his natural ſubjects, but alſo had invited in two thouſand Poitovins and Britonss with which he garriſoned his caſtles. Upon this, earl Richard, the marſhal of the kingdom, taking ſeveral of the lords along with him, went boldly to the King, and openly reproved him, that becauſe by evil counſels he had called in Poitovin foreigners to the oppreſſion of his realm, and natural born ſubjets of the realm, of their laws likewiſe and liberties, wherefore he humbly beſought the King that he would ſpeedily reform ſuch abuſes as theſe, which were the imminent deſtruction of his crown and realm. Moreover he affirmed, that if the King refuſed this proceeding, both he and the reſt of the noblemen of the kingdom would ſo long continue to withdraw themſelves from his councils, as he conſorted with foreigners. To this, Peter, biſhop of Wincheſter, who was prime miniſter, made anſwer, That it was very lawful for our lord the King to call in what foreigners he pleaſed for the defence of his kingdom and crown, and even ſuch and ſo many as might be able to compel his proud and rebellious ſubjects to their duty. The earl marſhal and the lords went away very much diſſatisfied with this anſwer, and promiſed to one another, that in this cauſe, which concerned the whole nation, they would manfully fight it out to the ſeparation of their fouls from their bodies.

In the mean while, the biſhop of Wincheſter and his accomplices had ſo far perverted the King’s heart to hate and deſpiſe the Engliſh nation, that he ſtudied the extirpation of them all manner of ways, and by a few at a time, invited over ſo many legions of Poitovins, that they almoſt filled all England; with troops of which, whereever the King went, he ſtill was walled in and environed. Nor was any thing done in the kingdom but as the biſhop of Wincheſter and this rout of Poitovins ordered it. The King then calls a parliament to meet on Midſummer-day at Oxford, but the aforeſaid aſſociated lords would not come at his ſummons, partly for fear of the lying in wait of theſe foreigners, and partly out of the indignation which they conceived againſt the King for calling in aliens in contempt of them: upon this, it was judicially decreed, that they ſhould be ſummoned twice and thrice, to try whether they would come or no. Here at this aſſembly at Oxford, Roger Bacon, while he was preaching the word of God before the King and the biſhops, told him roundly, That he would never enjoy any ſettled peace, unleſs he removed the biſhop of Wincheſter and Peter Rivallis from his councils. And when others who were preſent proteſted the ſame thing, the King began a little to recollect himſelf, and incline to reaſon, and ſignified to the aſſociated barons that they ſhould come to a parliament July 11, at Weſtminſter, and there, by their advice, he would rectify what was fit to be amended. But when the barons had heard that many free-booters were called in by the King with horſes and arms, and that they had arrived by degrees, and but a few at a time, and could ſee no foot-ſteps of peace, but likewiſe ſuſpected the innate treachery of the Poitovins, they let alone going to the parliament, but they ſent him word by ſolemn meſſengers, That ſetting aſide all delay, he ſhould remove the biſhop of Wincheſter and all the Poitovins from his court: But, in caſe he would not, they all by the common council of the kingdom would expell him and his evil counſellors out of the realm, and pees to the creation of a new King.

The king was ſtruck with this meſſage, and the court were very much concerned at it, fearing leſt the error of the ſon ſhould be worſe than his father’s, who was very near being driven out of his kingdom, and making good the name which was given him, by a kind of preſage of John the Exile. But biſhop Peter gave the King advice to make war upon theſe rebellious ſubjects, and to beſtow their caſtles and lands upon the poitovins, who might defend the realm of England from his traitors; bragging that he both could and would give deep, and not ſcoundrel council; for time was when he had governed the emperor’s council in the eaſt, and that his wiſdom was formidable both to the Saracens and to other nations. So the king, returning again to the wrong, firſt wreaked his anger upon Gilbert Basset, whom, having ſeized a manor of his and he coming to claim his right, he called traitor, and threatened if he did not get out of his court to have him hanged. And he likewiſe commanded Richard Seward a warlike knight, that had married this Gilbert’s ſiſter or niece without his licence, as he ſaid, to be taken up. And indeed being jealous of all the other noble and powerful men of the kingdom, he required hoſtages of them, ſuch and ſo many as might ſatisfy him that they would not rebel.

To the parliament at Weſtminſter, Auguſt 1. the earls and barons came armed, and the earl marſhal was on his way, coming to it; but going to lodge at his ſiſter’s houſe who was wife to Richard the King’s brother, ſhe advertiſed him of his danger, and that he would be ſeized. He being a man of a noble breaſt, could not readily believe woman’s talk till ſhe made it out: and then night coming on he rode another way, and never drew bit till he came well wearied into Wales. There were many earls and barons at this parliament, but there was nothing done in it becauſe of the abſence of the earl marſhal, Gilbert Basset, and ſome other lords.

After this, the King, by the advice of the biſhop of Wincheſter, gave ſummons to all that held of him by night ſervice, to be ready with their horſes and arms at Glouceſter, a week before aſſumption-day. And when the earl marſhal and many others that were aſſociated with him, would not come at that appointed time, the King, as if they had been traitors, cauſed their houſes to be ſet on fire, their parks and ponds to be deſtroyed, and their caſtles to be beſieged. Theſe that were ſaid to be aſſociated were very noble perſons, and there were many others no mean men that adhered to them: all theſe did King Henry cauſe to be proclaimed outlaws and baniſhed men, without the judgment of his court and of their peers, and gave their lands to the Poitovins, and thereby adding ſorrow to ſorrow, and redoubling their wounds. He gave commandment likewiſe that their bodies ſhould be ſeized wherever they could be found within the realm.

In the mean time, biſhop Peter does what he can to weaken the marſhal’s party, and corrupted the earls of Cheſter and Lincoln with a thouſand marks (cheap lords!) to leave the marſhal and the cauſe of juſtice, and to be reconciled to the King and to be of his ſide. For as for Richard the King’s brother, he was gone off from the marſhal ſome time before. When the marſhal had heard all this, he entered into a confederacy with Lewellin prince of Wales, and other peers of that country, who ſwore none of them would make peace without the other. Within a week’s time after the appointed rendezvous at Glouceſter, there arrived at Dover many armed men from the parts beyond the ſea, and Baldwin de Gysnes with a force out of Flanders, who came to the King at Glouceſter. This force, with what he had before, made a numerous army, with which he advanced to Hereford.

After this, the King, by the advice of biſhop Peter, ſends a defiance to the marſhal by the biſhop of St. Davids, and thereupon marches to make war upon him, and lays ſiege to one of his caſtles. But when he had furiouſly aſſaulted it many days in vain, and his army wanted proviſions, ſo that there was a neceſſity of raiſing the ſiege, the King grew aſhamed of his enterprize: whereupon he ſent ſeveral biſhops to the earl marſhal to deſire him to ſave the King’s honour; and that he might not be thought to have made a ſiege to no purpoſe, to ſurrender him the caſtle upon theſe conditions: Firſt, that he would after fifteen days reſtote to the earl marſhal the caſtler again entire, and in the ſame ſtate it was. And ſecondly, that in the mean time he would reform and amend all things that were amiſs in the kingdom, by the advice of the biſhops, who were his ſureties for the performance of theſe things. And to perfect and complete all this, the King appointed the marſhal and the baniſhed lords to come to a parliament, which he meant to hold at Weſtminſter the firſt week after Michaelmas.

When the fifteen days were out, from the time of the marſhal’s ſurrender of his caſtle into the King’s hands, upon condition, that after the term he ſhould have it reſtored to him again, the marſhal ſent to the King, to deſire him to deliver him back his caſtle according to the covenant, of which he made the biſhop of Wincheſter and Stephen Segrave the juſticiary his ſureties, which likewiſe they had confirmed by taking an oath. But the King anſwered with indignation, that he was ſo far from reſtoring him that caſtle, that he would ſooner ſubdue all the reſt he had. When therefore the marſhal ſaw that there was no faith, nor oath, nor peace kept by the counſellors of the King, he gathered an army and beſieged his own caſtle, and with little ado won it. The King was, at this time, holding his parliament as he had promiſed his great men, that by their advice he might redreſs thoſe things which were amiſs; but the evil council he then followed, did not ſuffer it to be done. Though many that were there preſent, humbly beſought him for God’s ſake, that he would make peace with his barons and nobles. And other perſons in favour with the King, namely, the friars, predicants, and minorites, whom he uſed to reverence and hearken to, theſe earneſtly exhorted him, that, he would ſtudy to carry himſelf lovingly as he ought to do towards his natural ſubjects, whom without judgment of their peers he had driven into baniſhment, burned their manor-houſes, cut down their woods, deſtroyed their ponds; and being led and miſsled by the bad counſel of bad men, ſets aſide his lieges whoſe native blood-would never ſuffer them to warp, and prefers other whiffling people before them; and, which is worſe, calls thoſe traitors by whom he ought to order the peace and counſels of the realm, and ſettle all affairs. To this the biſhop of Wincheſter made anſwer, that the peers of England are not as they are in France; and therefore the King may judge and condemn and baniſh any of them by his own juſtices of his own appointing. The biſhops hearing this, as it were with one voice, began to threaten that they would excommunicate the principal of the King’s evil counſellors by name; and they named the biſhop himſelf as the ring-leader of them, and his kinſman Rivallis, the juſticiary, and the treaſurer. To whom the biſhop anſwering, alledged, that he was conſecrated biſhop at Rome by the Pope, and was exempted from their power, and appealed to the apoſtolic ſee. And ſo the biſhops only excommunicated in general all thoſe that had or ſhould alienate the King’s heart from his natural ſubjects of the realm, and all that ſhould diſturb the peace of the realm.

In this parliament the King had tidings that the earl marſhal had taken his caſtle in Wales, and killed, ſeveral of his knights and ſervants. At which the King was much incenſed, and commanded the biſhops to excommunicate him; but it was the anſwer of them all, that it would be an unworthy thing to excommunicate a man for ſeizing a caſtle that was all his own, and for taking poſſeſſion of his own right. But the King ſtill enraged, ſummoned again all his knights with horſes and arms to Glouceſter, the morrow after all-ſaints: and there he gathered a numerous army and entered Wales, breathing and panting after the deſtruction of the marſhal. But he, like a provident warrior, had beforehand driven away all the cattle, and withdrawn all proviſions, ſo that the King had no ſubſiſtence for his army in thoſe parts, but was forced to march another way, and came to the caſtle of Groſmund. Where, while he ſpent ſome days, the marſhal and his aſſociates ſent ſcouts to diſcover the poſture of his army; and on Martinmas-night, all of them but the marſhal, who would not invade the King, with a good army ſurprized the King’s camp, where they fled away almoſt naked: and the conquerors on the other ſide would not hurt any of them nor take one priſoner, excepting two knights, who indiſcretely^[4] making reſiſtance were killed, rather by themſelves than by the others. But they took away all their carriages and proviſions, money and arms, and ſo retired again into their ſtrong holds.

I believe ſuch a modeſt victory was never read of; and Matt. Paris pleaſantly calls them for witneſſes of the truth of this rout, who run away and loſt all they had in it: the biſhops of Wincheſter, and Chicheſter, Segrave the juſticiary, Rivallis the treaſurer, the earls of Norfolk and Saliſbury, and many more. The King, who had been left even as good as alone amidſt the enemies, when all was over, put ſome of his Poitovin dragoons into his Welch garriſons to prevent incurſions, and ſo returned to Glouceſter, where he kept his Chriſtmas. But in the mean time, on St. Katherine’s-day, the marſhal made a great ſlaughter of the Poitovins at Monmouth: and he and the baniſhed lords watched the King’s caſtles ſo narrowly, that when any went out of them abroad to prey, they took nothing elſe of them for their ranſom but their heads; inſomuch, that in a ſhort time there lay dead ſuch a multitude of theſe foreigners in the high-ways and other places, as infected the air.

As for the diſcourſe which paſſed betwixt the marſhal and friar Agnellus, who was familiar to the King and his counſellor, and came into Wales to tell the marſhal what the King and his counſellors ſaid of him, and to make overtures to him, it is too long to be here inſerted, but is exceedingly well worth the reading as it ſtands in Matt. Paris, p. 391, 392, 393. wherein the matſhal makes ſuch a ſolid defence of his whole proceedings, and diſcovers ſo well a grounded zeal for the rights of his country, as is ſufficient to inſpire every Engliſh breaſt with the love of a righteous cauſe. Friar Agnellus tells him, that the King’s counſellors would have him ſubmit to the King’s mercy, and that, beſides other reaſons, it was his intereſt ſo to do; becauſe the King was richer and more powerful than he; and as for foreign aid, where the marſhal could bring one ſtranger the King could bring ſeven: The marſhal replies “It is true, the King is richer and more powerful than I; but he is not more powerful than God, who is juſtice itſelf, in whom I truſt in the maintenance and proſecution of mine and the kingdom’s right: nor do I truſt in foreigners, nor will ever ſeek their aid, unleſs, which God forbid! I ſhall be compelled to it by ſome unexpected and immutable neceſſity: and I know full well that the King can bring ſeven to my one; and truly, I believe in the way that he is in, he will ſoon bring more into the realm, than he will be able to get out again.” And after he had anſwered many other arguments, as he might confide in the King and his counſellors, and had reckoned up many inſtances of the court’s treachery and breach of their oaths about Magna Charta, and in ſeveral other caſes, he ſays, “Neither would it be for the King’s honour, that I ſhould conſent to his will, which were not ſupported by reaſon; nay, therein I ſhould do injury both to himſelf and to that juſtice which he ought to maintain and exerciſe towards his ſubjects: and I ſhould give a bad example to all men of deſerting juſtice and the proſecution of right, for the ſake of an erroneous will, againſt all juſtice, and, to the injury of the ſubject; for hereby it would appear that we had more love for our worldly poſſeſſions, than for righteouſneſs itſelf.” But I wrong the diſcourſe, by ſingling any particulars out of it.

The King kept his Chriſtmas at Glouceſter with a very thin court, the late rout at Groſmund caſtle having ſcattered them. And the morrow after, John of Monmouth, a nobleman, one of the King’ warriors in Wales, attempting to ſurprize the marſhal, was entirely defeated with the loſs of a great number of Poitovins and others, himſelf narrowly eſcaping; which his eſtate did not, for the marſhal immediately burned and deſtroyed it. The ſame did the other exiled lords by all the King’s counſellors in thoſe parts; for they had laid down, amongſt themſelves, this laudable and general rule, “That they would hurt no body, nor do them any damage, but only the evil counſellors of the King, by whom they had been driven into baniſhment; and uſed in the ſame kind.” And a week after Twelftide the marſhal and Leoline entered the King’s lands, and laid them waſte as far as Shrewſbury, the King and biſhop Peter being ſtill at Glouceſter; but not, having ſtrength to oppoſe them, they retired to Wincheſter. But the King’s heart was ſo hardened againſt the marſhal by the evil counſel that he made uſe of, that when the biſhops admoniſhed him to make peace with the marſhal “Who fought for the cauſe of juſtice^[5],” he made anſwer, “That he never would make peace with him, unleſs he would acknowledge himſelf a traitor with a halter about his neck.”

When the biſhop of Wincheſter and the other evil counſellors of the King ſaw all their meaſures broken, and the Poitovins thus cut off by the marſhal, deſpairing ever to overcome him by force of arms, they fell to plotting and laying a train for his life, which was by a letter ſent into Ireland to this effect: “Whereas Richard, late marſhal of the King of England, for his manifeſt treaſon, was, by judgment of the ſaid King’s court, baniſhed the realm, and for ever outed of all the patrimony and poſſeſſions he had, and yet remains in rebellion: theſe are therefore to require you, that if he ſhould chance to come into Ireland, you take care to ſeize him and bring him to the King dead or alive; and, for your care herein, the King grants all the inheritance of all the late marſhal’s lands and poſſeſſions in Ireland, which are now fallen to his diſpoſal, to be ſhared amongſt you. And for this promiſe of the King to be made good to you, we all, by whoſe counſel the King and kingdom are governed, do make ourſelves ſureties, provided you fail not in the premiſes.” This writing was directed to Maurice Fitz-Gerald the King’s juſticiary in Ireland, and ſeveral other great men, and ſome that were liegemen to the marſhal, but faithleſs:—and after this writing of unheard of treaſon was framed, though the King knew nothing of the contents of it, yet they compelled him to put his ſeal; and they, to the number of eleven, put to their ſeals, and ſo ſent it over.

This wrought with the Iriſh great men according to the wiſh of the evil counſellors, for out of covetouſneſs, they immediately entered into the conſpiracy, and privately ſent word back, “That if the King’s promiſe were confirmed to them under the great ſeal, they would do their utmoſt to effect the buſineſs.” Whereupon, the ſaid counſellors with a treaſonable violence, ſurreptitiouſly got the great ſeal from the biſhop of Chicheſter, who did not conſent to this fraud, and ſo ſent a charter, wherein every particular man’s ſhare is expreſſed under the great ſeal. As ſoon as this damnable writing arrived in Ireland, the conſpirators took an oath to accompliſh the thing; and in order to it raiſed an army, wherewith they invaded his lands, and took ſome of his caſtles, that by theſe injuries they might provoke him, and draw him into Ireland.

While this Iriſh plot went on, at Candlemas the King held a parliament at Weſtminſter, where he grievouſly accuſed ſeveral of the biſhops, and chiefly Alexander of Cheſter, for holding correſpondence with the marſhal, and for endeavouring to depoſe him from the throne of the kingdom. The ſaid biſhop, to clear himſelf and the reſt of the biſhops, immediately excommunicated all thoſe who had any ſuch wicked thoughts againſt the King and all thoſe who ſlandered the biſhops in that ſort, who were wholly ſollicitous for the King’s honour and ſafety. Afterward in a parliament, Edmund, elect of Canterbury, and the reſt of the biſhops, came to the King, condoling the deſolation both of him and the kingdom, and as it were with one heart, and mind, and mouth, ſaid: “Our lord the King, we tell you in the name of God, as your liegemen, that the counſel you now have and uſe, is neither ſound nor ſecure, but cruel and perilous both to you and the realm of England; We mean the counſel of Peter, biſhop of Wincheſter, Peter Rivallis, and their accomplices: Firſt, becauſe they hate and deſpiſe the Engliſh nation, calling them traitors, and cauſing them all to be ſo termed, thereby turning away your heart from the love of your nation, and our hearts and the hearts of the nation from you; as appears by the marſhal, than whom there is not a better man in your land, whom, by diſperſing their lyes on both ſides, they have perverted and alienated from you. And by the ſame counſel as their’s is, your father John firſt loſt the hearts of his country, and afterwards Normandy, and other lands; exhauſted his treaſure, and almoſt loſt England, and never afterwards had peace. By the ſame counſel ſeveral diſaſters have happened to yourſelf;” which they there enumerate. They likewiſe tell him, by the faith in which they were bound to him, that his counſel was not for peace, but for breach of peace, and diſturbance of the land; that his counſellors might grow rich by the troubles of the nation and the diſheriſon of others, which in peace they could not compaſs. Amongſt the items of their preſent grievances, which it would be too long here to recite, this is one, “That theſe counſellors confound and pervert “the law of the land,” which has been ſworn and corroborated by excommunication; ſo that it is very much to be feared that they ſtand excommunicated, and you for intercommuning with them.” And they conclude, “Theſe things we faithfully tell you, and before God we deſire, adviſe and admoniſh you, that you remove this counſel from you; and as the cuſtom is in other realms, that you manage your kingdom by your own faithful ſworn ſubjects, that are of your own kingdom. For we aſſure you, that unleſs you ſpeedily redreſs and reform theſe grievances, we will proceed to excommunication, both againſt you and all other gainſayers, ſtaying no longer than for the conſecration of the archbiſhop elect.” And when they had thus ſaid, the King humbly demanded a ſhort truce, ſaying, that he could not ſo ſuddenly remove his council, till he had audited an account of his treaſure committed to them. And ſo the parliament broke up, with a confidence that peace and agreement would be had in a ſhort time.

The ninth of April there came to parliament at Weſtminſter the king with the earls and barons, and the archbiſhop lately conſecrated with his ſuffragans, that they might make ſome wholeſome proviſion for the realm, which was ſtill in diſorder. The archbiſhop, taking to him the biſhops and the other prelates, went to the King, and laid before him the bad ſtate and imminent danger of the kingdom, and rehearſed all the grievances which they had mentioned in the laſt parliament; and told him plainly, that unleſs he would ſpeedily rectify his error, and make peaceable agreement with his loyal ſubjects, he and all the prelates there would forthwith excommunicate both the King himſelf, and all that ſhould contradict this peace and agreement. But the pious King hearing the advice of his prelates, lowly anſwered, “That he would be governed by their counſels in all things:” ſo that in few days after ſeeing his error, and repenting of it, he diſmiſſed Peter of Wincheſter and Rivallis; and expelling all the Poitovins from his court and caſtles, he ſent them into their own country, charging them “never to ſee his face any more.” And afterwards being very deſirous of peace, ſent Edmund the archbiſhop, with the biſhops of Cheſter and Rocheſter into Wales, to Leoline and the marſhal, to treat of peace.

With Leoline they might treat, but the earl marſhal was gone into Ireland, as it had been before projected by the evil counſellors, to take care of his caſtles and poſſeſſions, which he heard were ſeized and ſpoiled: where as ſoon as he arrived, he was waited upon by Geoffrey Marsh his liegeman, a perfidious old man, who was one of thoſe to whom the letter was directed, and was a ſharer in the lands which were granted by charter. But having been an old ſervant to his father, and pretending an extraordinary honour and affection for the marſhal, he thereby had that power with him, as to lead him into all the ſnares and traps which were laid for him, and which at laſt coſt him his life, though he ſold it very dear. The ſtory is too long for this place, but he fell a noble ſacrifice for the Engliſh liberties, though neither the firſt nor the laſt in that kind.

After Eaſter the King being willing to meet his archbiſhop and biſhops, whom he had ſent into Wales, was going to Glouceſter, and lay at his manor of Woodſtock, where meſſengers came to him out of Ireland with an account of the death of the earl marſhal. Whereupon the King, breaking forth into weeping and lamentation, to the admiration of all that were preſent, made ſad moan for the death of ſo brave a knight, conſtantly affirming that he had not left his peer in the kingdom. And immediately calling for the prieſts of his chapel, cauſed an obſequy to be ſolemnly ſung for his ſoul, and on the morrow after maſs beſtowed large alms upon the poor. Bleſſed therefore is ſuch a King, who knows how to love thoſe that offend him, and merit with prayers and tears forgiveneſs of his faithful ſubjects, whom upon falſe ſuggeſtions he had ſome time hated. When he came to Glouceſter, Edmund and the other biſhops met him, and told him that Leoline inſiſted upon it, as a preliminary of the peace, that the baniſhed barons ſhould be reſtored. Upon this he ſummons them to a parliament at Glouceſter, to which they came under the ſafe conduct of the biſhops, and were reſtored to all their rights. Afterwards Edmund cauſed a copy of the letter, concerning the treachery prepared for the earl marſhal, to be read in full parliament, at which the King and the whole aſſembly wept. And the King confeſſed in truth, that being compelled by the biſhop of Wincheſter and his other counſellors, he had commanded his ſeal to be put to ſome letters that were preſented to him; but he affirmed with an oath, “That he never heard the contents of them.” To whom the archbiſhop ſaid, “King, ſearch your conſcience: for all thoſe that procured theſe letters to be ſent, or were privy to them, are as guilty of the marſhal’s death, as if they had tilled him with their own hands.” Then the King taking advice, ſummoned his miniſters to anſwer for his treaſure, and the ill uſe of his ſeal when he knew nothing of it: upon which ſome took ſanctuary, others abſconded, and ſome fled to Rome. Rivallis and Segrave were afterwards tried in the King’s bench, where the King himſelf ſitting with the judges, charged them with the particulars of their evil counſel, “and called them wicked traitors;” and they were deeply fined. And yet the next year theſe two were received into grace and favour again, after he had removed many of his new counſellors and officers, to the admiration of his people, and had demanded the great ſeal from the biſhop of Cheſter his chancellor with a great deal of reproof, though he had unblameably adminiſtered his office, and was a ſingular pillar of truth in the court. But the chancellor refuſed it, ſaying, “That having received the ſeal by the common council of the realm, he could not reſign it to any one without the like common aſſent.”

The miſeries of the kingdom ſtill go on, and no other can be expected from ſuch a property of a prince, who ſet his ſeal to deſtroy his beſt ſubjects blindfold, and ſay his wicked counſellors compelled him to it; and after he himſelf has impeached them, and publickly blackened them with his own mouth, “and threatened to have their eyes pulled out,” takes them again into his boſom. And therefore in all the ſucceeding parliaments we meet with nothing but their repeated complaints of the violations of Magna Charta, and their ineffectual endeavours to redreſs them; feigned humiliations and ſorrow on the King’s fide, with promiſes of amendment, but no performance; aſking for money, and then being upbraided with what he had got already, and that at ſeveral times he had wafted eight hundred thouſand pounds, ſince he began to be a dilapidator and conſumer of the kingdom: they gave him money once for all, and he gives them a charter never to injure them any more in that kind, by requiring any more aids: and ſuch like tranſactions as theſe, till we come to Ann. Dom. 1244. when again he wants money. And then upon theſe following conſiderations, that becauſe the charter of liberties, which the King had long ſince granted, and for the obſervation whereof Edmond the archbiſhop had ſworn and moſt faithfully paſſed his word on the King’s behalf, had not hitherto been kept: and becauſe the aids which had been granted to the King, had turned to no profit of the King or kingdom: and becauſe of other grievances which the King promiſes to redreſs, the parliament came to this reſolution, “That there ſhould be a prorogation of three weeks, and that if in the mean time the King ſhould freely chuſe himſelf ſuch counſellors, and order the rights of the kingdom as ſhould be to their content, they would then give him an anſwer about the aid.” In theſe three weeks the lords drew up a proviſion by the King’s conſent, to this effect: “Concerning the liberties at another time bought, granted and confirmed, that for the time to come they be obſerved. For the greater ſecurity whereof, let a new charter be made, which ſhall make ſpecial mention of theſe things. Let thoſe be ſolemnly excommunicated by all the prelates, who wittingly oppoſe or hinder the obſervation of theſe liberties: and let all thoſe have reparation made them, who have ſuffered in their liberties ſince the laſt grant. And becauſe neither by virtue of an oath then taken, nor for fear of the holy man Edmund’s excommunication, what was then promiſed has hitherto been kept, to avoid the like peril for the future, left the latter end be worſe than the beginning; let four nobles and powerful men of the diſcreeteſt in the realm, be choſen by aſſent of parliament to be of the King’s council, and to be ſworn, that they will order the affairs of the King and kingdom faithfully, and do juſtice to all without reſpect of perſons. Theſe ſhall follow our lord the King, and if not all, two at leaſt ſhall be preſent to hear all complaints that come, and to give ſpeedy relief to thoſe that ſuffer wrong; they ſhall ſuperviſe the King’s treaſure, that the money given for public uſes be ſo applied. And they ſhall be conſervators of the liberties. And becauſe the chancellor and juſticiary are to be frequently with the King, they being choſen in parliament may be two of the conſervators. And as they are choſen by the common aſſent, ſo they ſhall not be removed without the ſame, &c.”

And when (ſays Matt. Paris) the great men in the receſs of three weeks had diligently treated of theſe matters, which were ſo exceedingly profitable for the common-wealth, the enemy of mankind, the diſturber of peace, and the raiſer of diviſion, the devil, through the pope’s avarice, unhappily put a ſtop to the whole buſineſs. For in this nick of time, comes a legate to raiſe money, with new and unheard of powers; and this put all into confuſion, and made work for a long time after.

Four years after this, A.D. 1248. a parliament meets the ſennight after Candlemas at London, that they may treat diligently and effectually with our lord the king, of the affairs of the realm, which is very much diſordered and impoveriſhed, and enormouſly maimed in our days. The parliament, underſtanding that the king intended to aſk an aid of money, told him that he ought to be aſhamed to demand ſuch a thing, eſpecially feeing that in the laſt exaction of that kind, to which the nobles of England conſented with much difficulty, he gave them a charter that he would never burden nor injure them with the like again. He was likewiſe grievouſly reprehended, and no wonder, for calling in aliens, and fooliſhly ſquandering the wealth of the kingdom upon them; marrying them to his wards without their conſent, and ſeveral other of his ſpendthrift and tyrannous practices. And, one and all, they grievouſly reproached him, for not having (as the magnificent Kings his predeceſſors had) a juſticiary, chancellor and treaſurer, by the common council of the realm, and as is fit and expedient, but ſuch as follow his will, let it be what it will, ſo long as it is for their own gain: and who do not ſeek the good of the commonwealth, but their own particular profit, by gathering money, and getting the wards and revenues to themſelves in the firſt place.

When our lord the king heard this, being confounded within himſelf, he bluſhed, knowing that all of theſe things were very true. He therefore promiſed moſt faithfully, that he would readily redreſs all theſe things; hoping by this humility, though it were feigned, to incline all their hearts to grant him an aid. To whom the whole parliament, which had been often anſwered with ſuch promiſes, upon advice made anſwer, “That it would ſoon be ſeen whether the King will reform theſe things or no, and will manifeſtly appear in a ſhort time. We will wait a while with patience, and as the King ſhal carry and behave himſelf toward us, ſo ſhall he have us obedient to him in all things.” Therefore, all was adjourned, and reſpited for a fortnight after midſummer. But in the mean time, our lord the King, whether it proceeded from his own ſpirit, or that of his courtiers, who were unwilling to loſe any thing of their power, was hardened and more exaſperated, and never minded to make the leaſt reparation of theſe abuſes according to his promiſe.

When the day appointed came, the parliament came again to London, with a full belief and truſt in the King’s firm promiſe, that leaving his former errors, by the grace of God beſtowed upon him, he would incline to more wholeſome advice. As ſoon as they were aſſembled, there came this^[6] unhandſome anſwer from the King: “All you the principal men of England, you had a mind to bring the lord your King, to the bent of your uncivil will and pleaſure, and to impoſe a very ſervile condition upon him; that what every one of you may do at pleaſure, ſhould impudently be denied to him; for it is lawful for every body to uſe whoſe and what counſel he will. And ſo it is lawful for every matter of a family to prefer any one of his houſe to this or that office, or put him by it, or turn him out, which you raſhly preſume to deny even to our lord the King. And this preſumption is ſtill the greater, ſeeing ſervants ought by no means to judge their maſter, nor tie him to their conditions, nor vaſſals to do the like to their prince; but all inferiors whatſoever, are to be ordered and directed by the will and pleaſure of their lord and maſter; for the ſervant is not above his lord, as neither the diſciple above his maſter; and truly he ſhould not be your king, but may paſs for your ſervant, if he ſhould be thus brought to your will. Wherefore, neither will he remove, nor chancellor, nor juſticiary, nor treaſurer, as you have propounded to order the maſter; neither will he put any other in their room.” After the ſame faſhion, ſays Matt. Paris, there was a cavilling anſwer to the other wholeſome articles which were ſufficiently for the King’s intereſt. “But he aſks of you an aid of money to enable him to recover his rights in the parts beyond the ſeas, wherein you yourſelves are alike concerned.” When therefore the parliament had heard this, they underſtood clearer than the light that all this came from his preſent counſellors, whoſe reign would be at an end, and be blown away with a puff, if the baronage of all England might be heard. But feeing themſelves craftily anſwered and oppoſed, they all replied, as if it had been perfectly with one breath, “That they would by no means uſeleſsly impoveriſh themſelves, that aliens might be proud at their coſt, and to ſtrengthen the enemies of the King and kingdom:” of which they gave inſtances in what happened lately in Poitou and Gaſcony; where the King upon an expedition out of his own head, and againſt their advice, loft honour, treaſure, lands, and wholly miſcarried. And ſo the parliament broke up in the utmoſt indignation, every one being diſappointed in the great hopes which they long had from this parliament: and they carried home nothing but, as the uſed to do, contemptuous uſage, with loft labour and expences.

The grievances ſtill increaſe, till we come to a new confirmation of Magna Charta, A. D. 1253. which was upon this occaſion. The pope, for ends of his own, ſollicited the King to undertake an expedition to the Holy Land, and for his encouragement, granted him the tenths of the revenues of England for three years. Upon this, in a very public and ſolemn manner, he took upon him the croſs; but ſome ſaid that he only wore that badge upon his ſhoulders as a good argument to get money. And he ſwore, “That after midſummer, he would begin his journey for the following three years, unleſs he were hindered by death, ſickneſs, or ſome other reaſonable impediment.” This oath he took both after the faſhion of a prieſt with his hands upon his breaſt, and after the manner of a layman, laying his right hand upon the book and kiſſing it; and yet ſays the hiſtorian, the ſtanders-by were never the ſurer.

But though the King afterwards produced the pope’s mandate, wherein by the power given him of God, he granted the King his tenth, yet the biſhops oppoſed it as an unſufferable uſurpation; which put the King into the moſt frantic and impotent rage that ever was deſcribed: and though afterwards he cloſetted them, yet he could not prevail. At laſt about Eaſter a parliament was called. After fifteen days debate, the conſent of the whole parliament ſettled in theſe reſolves, “That they would not hinder the King’s pious intention of going to the Holy Land; nor at the ſame time ſhould the church and kingdom ſuffer damage.” They therefore granted the King the tenth of all church-revenues for three years, and three marks eſcuage upon every knight’s fee for that year. And the King on his part, promiſed, that in good faith, and without any quirks and caviiling pretences, he would faithfully obſerve Magna Charta, and every article of it. Though it was no more than his father King John had ſworn to keep many years ago, and in like manner the preſent King at his coronation, and many a time after, whereby he chouſed the nation of an infinite deal of money.

Accordingly, May the third, in the great hall at Weſtminſter, in the preſence and with the conſent of the king and the whole parliament, the archbiſhop and the biſhops in their pontificals with lighted candles, paſſed the ſentence of excommunication againſt all that ſhould violate the liberties of the church, and the liberties or free cuſtoms of the realm of England; and thoſe eſpecially which are contained in the charter of common liberties of the realm of England, and of the Foreſt. And the charter of King John was accordingly rehearſed and confirmed. The form of the excommunication is ſomewhat large, as being ſtrongly drawn up, and the anathemas well laid on; it is in Bacon p. 131. And all the while the ſentence was reading, the King laid his hand ſpread upon his breaſt, chuſing to aſſiſt with that ceremony, and not with holding a wax-candle, to ſhew, as he ſaid, “That his heart went along with it;” and when it was ended, he ſaid theſe words, “So help me God, I will faithfully keep all theſe things inviolate, as I am a man, as I am a chriſtian, as I am a knight, and as I am a King crowned and anointed.”

Daniel and Bacon are wonderfully taken with the manner of this confirmation of the charters; and ſay, that there was never ſuch a ſolemn ſanction of laws, “ſince the law was delivered at Mount Sinai.” But the renowned Robert Grosthead, biſhop of Lincoln, divining and foreboding in his heart that the King would fly off from his covenants, immediately, as ſoon as he got down into his biſhopric, cauſed all the breakers of the charters, and eſpecially all the prieſts that were ſo, to be ſolemnly excommunicated in every pariſh church throughout his dioceſs which are ſo many as can hardly be numbered; and the ſentence was ſuch as was enough to make the ears of thoſe that heard it to tingle, and to quail their hearts not a little.

The parliament being thus ended, the King preſently uſes the worſt council that could be, and refolves to overthrow all that had been thus eſtabliſhed: for it was told him, that he ſhould not be King, at leaſt lord in England, if the ſaid charters were kept; and his father John had experience of it, and choſe rather to die than thus to be trampled under foot by his ſubjects. And thoſe whiſperers of Satan added moreover, “Take no care though you incur this ſentence of excommunication: for a hundred, or for a brace of hundred pounds the pope will abſolve you: who, out of the plenitude of his power, what he pleaſes can either looſe or bind: for the greater cannot command a greater than he. You will have your tenth to a farthing, which will amount to very many thouſand marks: and what leſſening will it be of that ineſtimable ſum, to give the pope a ſmall driblet, who can abſolve you though he himſelf had confirmed the ſentence, ſeeing it belongs to him to annul, who can enact; nay, for a ſmall gratuity will enlarge the term of years for the grant of the tenth, and will throw you in a year or two?” Which accordingly afterwards came to paſs, as the following narration ſhall declare. Here is a loſt King and a loſt nation: Why ſhould we read any farther?

Two years after, having ſpent moſt of that time in the wars in Gascony, for to the Holy Land he never went, he calls a parliament at London upon Hoke day, which was the fulleſt aſſembly that ever was there ſeen. In ſhort, the King wants money, was in debt, and would have the aid from the baronies to be continued in proportion to the tenths, and ſo, completing their tax, he might be bound to give them his thanks in full. This would have amounted to ſuch a ſum as would have impoveriſhed the realm, and made it defenceleſs, and expoſed it to foreigners. Upon conſultation therefore, becauſe that propoſal was impoſſible, they came to this conceſſion, “That they would charge and burden themſelves much, for to have Magna Charta to be honeſtly kept, from that time forth hereafter, without pettifogging quirks, which he had ſo often promiſed, and ſworn and bound himſelf to it, under the ſtricteſt ties that could be laid upon his ſoul. They demanded, moreover, to chuſe them a juſticiary, chancellor, and treaſurer, by the common council of the realm, as was the cuſtom from antient times, and was juſt; who likewiſe ſhould not be removed but for manifeſt faults, and by the common council and deliberation of the realm called together in parliament. For now there were ſo many Kings in England, that the antient heptarchy ſeemed to be revived.” You might have ſeen grief in the people’s countenances. For neither the prelates nor the nobles knew how to hold faſt their Proteus, I mean their King, although he ſhould have granted them all this. Becauſe in every thing he tranſgreſſes the bounds of truth; and where there is no truth, no certainty can be had. It was told them likewiſe by the gentlemen of the bed-chamber, who were moſt intimate with the King, that he would by no means grant them their deſire about the juſticiary, chancellor and treaſurer. Moreover, their prelates were bloodily grieved about their tenth, which they promiſed conditionally, and now were forced to pay abſolutely, the church being uſed like a ſervant maid. The nobles were wounded with the exaction which hung over their heads, and were bewildered.

At laſt they all agreed to fend a meſſage to the King in the name of the whole parliament, that the buſineſs ſhould be defered till Michaelmas, “That, in the mean time they might have trial of the King’s fidelity and benignity, that he proving thus perhaps towards them and their patience in the keeping the charter ſo many times promiſed, and ſo many times bought out, might turn again and deſervedly incline their hearts towards him: and they, as far as their power would extend, would obediently give him a ſupply.” Which, when the King did not like, and by giving no anſwer did not agree to it, the parliament after many fruitleſs debates, day after day, from morning till night, thus broke up; and the nobles of England now made ignoble, went home [then the parliament did not live at court in thoſe days] in the greateſt deſolation and deſpair.

In the ſame year arrived Alienor, the King of Spain’s ſiſter, whom prince Edward had married, with ſuch a retinue of Spaniards, as looked like an invaſion, who, with great pomp, and all ſorts of public rejoicings, were received at London; though with the ſcorn and laughter of the common people at their pride. But grave perſons and men of circumſpection, pondering the circumſtances of things fetched deep ſighs from the bottom of their hearts, to ſee all ſtrangers ſo much in requeſt, and the ſubjects of the realm reputed as vile, which they took for a token of their irreparable ruin. At the ſame time there was the worſt news that could be of a legate a latere coming over, armed with legantine power, who was ready prepared in all things to ſecond the King in the deſtruction of the people of England, and to nooſe all gainſayers and oppoſers of the royal will, which is a tyrannical one, and to hamper them all in the bonds of an anathema. Moreover, it terrified both the prelates and nobles, and ſunk them into a bottomleſs pit of deſperation, to ſee that the King by ſuch unſpeakable craftineſs had brought in ſo many foreigners, dropping in one after another: and by degrees, had drawn into confederacy with him many, and almoſt all the principal men in England, as the earls of Glouceſter, Warren, Lincoln, and Devonſhire, and many other noblemen; and had ſo impoveriſhed the natural born ſubjects, to enrich his foreign kindred and relations, that in caſe the body of the realm ſhould have thoughts of ſtanding for their right, and the King were againſt them, they would have no power to reſtrain the King and his foreigners, or be able to contradict them. As for earl Richard, who is reckoned our greateſt nobleman, he ſtood neutral. In like manner there were others not daring to mutter or ſpeak within their teeth. The archbiſhop of Canterbury, who ought to be like a ſhield againſt the aſſaults of the enemy, was engaged in ſecular affairs beyond ſea, taking little care of his flock in England. The magnanimous patriots and hearty lovers of the realm, namely, the archbiſhop of York, Robert Grosthead, biſhop of Lincoln, Warin de Munchemsil, and many others, were dead and gone. In the mean time, the Poitovin kindred of the King with the provincials, and now the Spaniards and the Romans, are daily enriched with the revenues as faſt as they ariſe, and are promoted to honours, while the Engliſh are repulſed.

In this lamentable ſtate was the nation again, within two years after the ſo much magnified confirmation of their charter, which was indeed performed with the greateſt ſolemnity poſſible; for heaven and earth were called to witneſs it. The year following, though England ſtill lay under oppreſſion, yet the Welſh were reſolved to bear the tyranny no longer, but ſtood up for their country and the maintenance of their laws, and baffled ſeveral armies, firſt of the prince and afterwards of the King. They were ten thouſand horſe, and many more foot; who, entering into a mutual aſſociation, ſwore upon the goſples, that they would manfully and faithfully fight to the death for the liberties of their country and their antient laws, and declared they had rather die with honour than ſpin out a wretched life in diſgrace. At which manly action of their’s, ſays the hiſtorian, “The Engliſh ought deſervedly to bluſh, who lay down their neck to every one that ſets his foot upon it, and truckle under ſtrangers, as if they were a ſorry, diminutive, timorous, little people, and a riffraff of ſcoundrels.”

It is very hard that the Engliſh nation muſt, at the ſame time, ſuffer by the Welch in their excurſions upon our borders, and withal, be continually perſecuted by this hiſtorian, and upbraided with the Welch valour. But ſo it is, that he cannot mention any Engliſh grievance, but he twits us with the Welch. Baldwin of Rivers, by the procurement of our lady the Queen, marries a certain foreigner, a Savoyard, of the Queen’s kindred. Now to this Baldwin belongs the county of Devon; and ſo day by day the noble poſſeſſions of the Engliſh are devolved upon foreigners, “Which the faint-hearted Engliſh either will not know, or diſſemble their knowledge, whoſe cowardice and ſupine ſimplicity is reproved by the Welch ſtoutneſs.”

In the next paſſage, we have an account of the King’s coming to St. Alban’s in the beginning of March, and ſtaying there a week; where, all the while this hiſtorian was continually with him at his table, in-his palace, and bed-chamber; “at which time he very diligently and friendly directed this writers pen:” ſo that it is not to be expected we ſhall hear any more of the Welch. And yet the ſame ſummer, when they baffled the King’s expedition againſt them, he rejoices “That their material buſineſs proſpered in their hands.” For he ſays, that their cauſe ſeemed to be a juſt cauſe even to their enemies. And that which heartened them moſt was this, that they were reſolutely fighting for their antient laws and liberties; like the Trojans from whom they were deſcended, and with an original conſtancy. “Woe to the wretched Engliſh, that are trampled upon by every foreigner, and ſuffer their antient liberties of the realm to be puffed out and extinguiſhed, and are not aſhamed of this, when they are taught better by the example of the Welch. O England! thou art juſtly reputed the bondwoman of other countries, and beneath them all: what thy natives earn hardly, aliens ſnatch away and carry off!”

It is impoſſible for an honeſt man ever to hate his country; but if it will ſuffer itſelf to be oppreſſed, it juſtly becomes, at once, both the pity and ſcorn of every underſtanding man, and of them chiefly that love it beſt. But as we cannot hate our country, ſo for the ſame reaſon we cannot but hate ſuch a generation of men, as for their own little ends are willing to enſlave it to all poſterity; wherein, they are worſe than Eſau, for he only ſold his own birth-right for a meſs of pottage, but not that of other folks too.

In the year 1258, a parliament was called to London the day after Hoke Tueſday, for great and weighty affairs, for the King had engaged and entangled himſelf in great and amazing debts to the pope about the king of Apulia, and he was likewiſe ſick of his Welch war. But when the King was very urgent for an aid of money, the parliament reſolutely and unanimouſly anſwered him, “That they neither would nor could bear ſuch extortions any longer.” Hereupon he betakes himſelf to his ſhifts to draw in the rich abbies to be bound for him for ſums of money; but though it was well managed, he failed in it. And that parliament was prolonged and ſpent in altercations between the King and the great men, till the week after Aſcenſion-day: for the complaints againſt the King were ſo multiplied daily, and the grievances were ſo many, by the breach of Magna Charta, and the inſolence of the foreigners, that Matt. Paris ſays it would require ſpecial treatiſes to reckon up the King’s miſcarriages. And the King being reproved for them, and convinced of the juſtneſs of the reproof, bethought and humbled himſelf, though it were late firſt, and ſaid, “That he had been too often bewitched by wicked counſel:” but he promiſed, which he likewiſe confirmed by an oath taken upon the altar and ſhrine of St. Edward, “That he would plainly and punctually correct his former errors, and graciouſly comply with his natural born ſubjects.” But his former frequent breach of oath rendered him incredible, and neither fit to be believed nor truſted. And becauſe the great men knew not as yet how to hold faſt their Proteus, which was a hard and difficult matter to do, the parliament was put off to Barnabas-day, to be held without fail at Oxford. In the mean time, the chief men of England, namely, the earls of Glouceſter, Leiceſter, and Hereford, the earl marſhal, and other eminent men, out of a provident precaution for themſelves, aſſociated; and becauſe they were vehemently afraid of the treachery of the foreigners, and much ſuſpected the little plots of the King, they came armed with a good retinue to Oxford.

There the great men, in the very beginning of the parliament, confirmed their former purpoſe, and immutable reſolution to have the charter of the liberties of England faithfully kept and obſerved, which the King had often granted and ſworn, and had cauſed all the biſhops of England to excommunicate, in a horrible manner, all the breakers of it, and he himſelf was one of the excommunicators. They demanded likewiſe to have a juſticiary that ſhould do equal juſtice, and ſome other public things, which were for the common profit of the King and realm, and tended to the peace and Honour of them both. And they frequently, and urgently aſked and adviſed the King to follow their counſels, and the neceſſaty proviſions they had drawn up; ſwearing with pledging their faiths, and giving one another their hands, “That they would not ceaſe to purſue what they had propounded, for the loſs either of money or lands, or for the life or death of themſelves or their’s.” Which, when the King, underſtood, he ſolemnly ſwore, “That he would comply with their counſels, and agree to them.” And prince Edward took the ſame oath. But John, earl of Warren, was refractory, and refuſed it, and the King’s half brothers, William of Valence, and others. Then the ſea-ports were ordered to be ſtrictly guarded, and the gates of London to be cloſe kept at nights, for fear the foreigners ſhould ſurprize it. And when they had ſpent ſome days in deliberating what was to be done in ſo weighty an affair, as repairing the ſtate of a broken, ſhattered, kingdom was, they confirmed their purpoſe with renewing their covenants and oaths, “That neither for death, nor life, nor freehold, for hatred or affection, or any other way, they would be biaſed or ſlackened from purging the realm, of which they and their progenitors before them were the native off-ſpring, and clearing it of an alien-born brood, nor from the procuring and obtaining good and commendable laws: and if any man, whoever he be, ſhould be refractory, and oppoſe this, they would compel him to join with them whether he would or no.” And though the King and prince Edward had both ſworn before, yet prince Edward, as he could, refuſed this oath, and ſo did John, earl of Warren. But Henry, ſon to Richard, King of the Romans, was doubtful and unreſolved; ſaying, “That he could not take ſuch an oath, unleſs it were with his father’s leave and advice.” To whom the barons publicly made anſwer, “That if his father himſelf would not agree to it, he ſhould not hold one furrow of land in England.” The King’s half brothers were very poſitive, and ſwore bloodily that they would never part with any of the caſtles, revenues, and, wards, which their brother had freely given them as long as they breathed. But while they were aſſerting this, and multiplying oaths not fit to be rehearſed, the earl of Leiceſter made anſwer to William de Valence, who was more ſwoln and haughty than the reſt; “Know for certain, that either you ſhall give up the caſtles which you have from the King, or you ſhall loſe your head.” And the other earls and barons firmly atteſted the ſame. The Poitovins therefore, were in a great fright, not knowing what to do: for if they ſhould retire to ſome caſtle, wanting proviſions, they would ſoon be ſtarved out: “For the body of the common people of the realm, without the nobles, would beſiege them, and utterly raze their caſtles^[7].” Whereupon, at dinner-time they ſtole away, as if it had been to go to dinner, and took their flight to Wincheſter. When the great men were advertiſed, that the Poitovins had thus taken their flight towards the ſea-ſide, fearing, leſt they might be gone to bring in foreign aid, [I ſuppoſe they had not forgot how K. John ſerved his barons] they thought all delays dangerous in ſuch a matter, and therefore, immediately, muſtered all their force to look after them.

The barons on the 15th of July diſmiſſed the Poitovins, and commended them to the ſeas in their paſſage to France, where they met with ſorry weleome, but at laſt were ſent home with a ſafe conduct. But the barons took care to ſend them from hence as bare as they came; for Richard Gray, governor of Dover, by their order, ſeized all their money, and it was appointed to be laid out for the public uſes of the realm. On the 20th of the ſame month, came commiſſioners of the parliament to London, and convevened all the citizens, otherwiſe called barons, of the whole city; and in the hall which is called Guildhall, they aſked them if they would faithfully obey the ſtatutes of the parliament, and immutably adhere to them, manfully reſiſting all oppoſers, and effectually aiding the parliament? Which, when they had all of them freely granted, they gave the commiſſioners a charter of this their grant, ſealed with the common ſeal of the city. But they did not as yet make public proclamation of theſe ſtatutes becauſe they were in confuſion about the earl of Glouceſter’s being poiſoned, and his brother, (as were ſeveral others) which, as appeared afterwards, was, the Poitovin’s farewel.

And then, in this ſollicitous and weighty affair, and in this moſt happy renovation and right-ordering of the whole realm, Fulk, biſhop of London, was more lukewarm and remiſs than became him, or was expedient; whereby he ſo much the more ſmutted and blackened his fame, by how much he had formerly been more generous than others. And ſo the barons having repoſed their hopes in his breaſt, he provoked many of them to anger by his falling off, when by this means they believed they ſhould ſet the King right with his people. But that which frighted them beyond all things was, the King’s mutability and unſearchable doubleneſs, which they perceived by a terrible word he let fall. Being one day upon the Thames in his barge, a ſudden ſtorm of thunder and lightning aroſe, which he dreaded above all things; and therefore immediately ordered to be ſet on ſhore, which happened to be at Durham-houſe, where the earl of Leiceſter then lay: which, when the earl underſtood, he ran joyfully to meet him, and reverently ſaluted him according to his duty; and chearing him, ſaid, “You have no occaſion to be concerned at the tempeſt, for now it is over.” To whom the King replied in the greateſt earneſt, and with a ſtern countenance, “I am indeed afraid of thunder and lightning above meaſure; but,” with a horrid oath, “I dread thee more than all the thunder and lightning in the world.” To which the earl gave a mild and gentle anſwer, and only let him know he had a wrong opinion of him. But all men did ſuſpect his amazing expreſſion proceeded from hence, that the earl had been a main man in eſtabliſhing the proviſions at Oxford.

This boded ill to thoſe proviſions, and, accordingly in a ſhort time, the King ſent privately to the Pope, to be abſolved from his oath, whereby he was bound to keep them: which he eaſily obtained, not only for himſelf, but for all that had taken it, whereby all thoſe whom he could any way corrupt, were free to be of his party.

The next year the King kept his Chriſtmas at the Tower with the Queen; and being, by the inſtigation and wicked counſel of ſome about him rendered, wholly averſe to the covenant which he had made with his parliament, he contrived how to publiſh his averſion and indignation againſt it. In order to which, he kept his reſidence in the Tower, “And having broken open the locks to come at the treaſure which was depoſited there ab antiquo^[8]” [which I ſuppoſe was ſome antient heirlome or public ſtock of the kingdom, kept there as a reſerve againſt ſome great exigency; for it is plain he had not the keys of it] “he brought it out to ſpend.” After this, he hires workmen to repair and fortify the Tower, and orders the city of London to be put in a poſture of defence, and all the inhabitants of it from twelve years old and upwards, ſwear fidelity to him; and the common crier made proclamation, “That whoever was willing to ſerve the King, would come away cheerily, and enter into his pay.” And then he took his time to publiſh the pope’s bull of abſolution from the oath, which was done at the Paul’s-croſs ſermon.

Upon notice of theſe things, there was a great confluence of the barons from all parts, with a great ſtrength of armed men, who came and lay in the ſuburbs; for they were not ſuffered to come within the city. But from thence the barons ſent meſſengers to the King, and humbly beſought him, “That he would inviolably keep the common oath which all of them had taken; and if any thing diſpleaſed him, that he would ſhew it to them, that they might amend it.” But, he by no means conſenting to what they offered, anſwered harſhly and threateningly, “That becauſe they had failed in their agreement, he would comply with them no more, but that, from henceforth, every one ſhould prepare for his own defence.” At length, by the mediation of ſome perſons, the buſineſs was brought to this iſſue, That the King ſhould chuſe one perſon, and the barons another; which two ſhould chuſe a third, who having heard the complaints on both ſides, ſhould eſtabliſh a laſting peace and agreement betwixt them. But this treaty was allowed to be put off till the return of prince Edward, who was then beyond ſea.

The prince hearing this, made haſte home, that the peace might not be delayed by his abſence; who, when he came, and found what vain counſels the King had taken, was very angry, and abſented himſelf from his father’s preſence, adhering to the barons in this behalf, as he had ſworn" and they entered into a confederacy with one another, “That they would ſeize the King’s evil counſellors, and their abettors, and to the utmoſt of their power remove them from the King.” Which, when the King underſtood, he betook himſelf, with his counfellors, into the Tower, his ſon and the great men abiding till without.

The next Chriſtmas we find him ſtill in the Tower, with the Queen and his counſellors, that were neither profitable to him, nor faithful. Which counſellors fearing to be aſſaulted, got a guard, and kept cloſe in the Tower. At length, by the Queen’s means, with much ado, ſome of the great men were reconciled, and made friends with them. When this was done, the King ventured himſelf out of the Tower, leaving the command of it to John Mansel (his principal counſellor, and the richeſt clergy-man in the world) and went down to Dover, where he entered the caſtle, which was neither offered nor denied him. And there the King found how he had been impoſed upon, when he ſaw a caſtle ſo carefully guarded by a guard of barons, lie open to him. When he went away, he committed the charge of that caſtle to E. de Waleran. He went likewiſe to Rocheſter caſtle and ſeveral others, and found ingreſs and egreſs at his pleaſure. It is plain they only kept them for the King.

At that time the King thinking himſelf ſecure, reſolved openly to depart from his oath, of which the pope had given him a releaſe. He went, therefore, round about to ſeveral cities and caſtles, reſolving to take them and the whole kingdom into his hands, being encouraged and animated thereto, becauſe the King of France, together with his great men, had lately promiſed to aſſiſt him with a great force. Coming, therefore, to Wincheſter, he turned his juſticiary and chancellor, that were lately inſtituted by the parliament, out of their offices, and created bene placito new ones. Which, when the barons heard, they haſtened with a great power towards Wincheſter: of which, John Mansel having timely notice, went privately down to the King, and ſufficiently informed him of his danger, and fetched him haſtily back again to the Tower of London.

There the King kept his next Chriſtmas^[9] with the Queen and his counſellors: at which time it was greatly laboured, both by the biſhops of England and the prelates of France, to make peace betwixt the King and barons, and it came to this iſſue: That the King and the peers ſhould ſubmit themſelves to the determination of the King of France, both as to the proviſions of Oxford, and the ſpoils and damages which had been done on both ſides.

Accordingly the King of France calls a parliament at Amiens, and there ſolemnly gives ſentence for the King of England againſt the barons; “Whereby the ſtatutes of Oxford, proviſions, ordinances, and obligations, were wholly annulled, with this exception: that by that ſentence he did in no wiſe intend to derogate at all from the antient charter of John, King of England, which he granted to his parliament, or whole realm^[10].” Which very exception compelled the earl of Leiceſter, and all that had their ſenſes exerciſed, to continue in their reſolution of holding firmly the ſtatutes of Oxford; for they were founded upon that charter.

Presently after this, they all came home that had been preſent at the French parliament; the King of England, the Queen, Boniface, archbiſhop of Canterbury, Peter of Hereford, and John Manset, who ceaſed not plotting and deviſing all the miſchief they could againſt the barons. From that time things grew worſe and worſe; for many great men left the earl of Leiceſter and his righteous cauſe, and went off perjured. Henry, ſon to the King of the Romans, he having received the honour of Tickhel, which was given him by the prince, came to the earl, and ſaid, “My lord earl, I cannot any longer be engaged againſt my father King of Germany, my uncle King of England, and my other relations; and therefore with your good leave and licence, I mean to depart, but I never will bear arms againſt you.” To whom the earl chearfully replied, “Lord Henry, I am not at all troubled about your arms, but for the inconſtancy which I ſee in you: therefore pray go with your arms, and if you pleaſe, come back with your arms, for I fear them not.” At that time Roger de Clyfford, Roger de Leibern, John de Vallibus, Hamon l’ Estrange, and many others, being blinded with gifts, went off from their fidelity, which they had ſworn to the barons for the common good^[11].

If Matt. Paris had been alive, he would have told us a piece of his mind concerning this falſe ſtep of the barons, in putting their coat to arbitration, and ſubmitting the Engliſh laws to the determination of an incompetent foreigner. But we loſt his noble pen A. D. 1259. that is, about four years ago, preſently after the eſtabliſhment of the proviſions at Oxford; ſo what has ſince followed, is taken out of the continuator of his hiſtory, who out of modeſty has forborn to ſet his name as being unworthy, as he ſays, “To unlooſe the latchet of that venerable man’s ſhoe.” But we were told that it was William Rishanger, who ſucceeded Matt. Paris in the ſame employment, and proſecuted the hiſtory to the end of Henry III. I know not by what misfortune we have loſt his proviſions of Oxford, which he ſays are written in his Addimenta: for certain it was by no neglect or omiſſion of his, becauſe he died with them upon his heart. For the laſt paſſage but one that he wrote, was the death of Fulk Basset biſhop of London, (whom we ſaw above he taxed formerly upon the ſame account) “Who,” ſays he, “was a noble perſon, and of great generoſity; and if he had not a little before ſtaggered in their common proviſion, he had been the anchor and ſhield of the whole realm, and both their ſtay and defence.” It ſeems his faltering in that main affair, was what Matthew could never forgive him alive or dead. And indeed this could not but come unexpectedly from ſuch a man, who had always been firm and honeſt to that degree, as to tell the King, when he arbitrarily threatened him for ſome incompliance of his to turn him out of his biſhoprick: “Sir,” ſays he, “when you take away my mitre, I ſhall put on a headpiece.”

And therefore, the annals of Burton, are a valuable piece of antiquity, becauſe they have ſupplied the defect, and have given us both a Latin and French copy of thoſe proviſions. It would be too large, as well as beſide my purpoſe, to ſet them down. In ſhort, whereas by Magna Charta in King John’s time there were twenty five barons (whereof the lord mayor of London was one) appointed to be conſervators of the contents of that charter, with all power to diſtreſs the King, in caſe of grievances, upon notice given, were they not redreſſed within forty days; on the other hand, in this proviſion of Oxford, which ſeems to be the eaſier, as much as prevention of grievances is better than the cure of them, there were twenty four of the greateſt men in England, ordained, twelve by the King himſelf, and twelve by the parliament, to be a vtanding council, without whoſe advice nothing was to be done. Theſe were to have parliaments three times a year, where the barons might come, but the commons were excuſed to ſave charges. No wiſe man will ſay that this was the Engliſh conſtitution; but theſe were neceſſary alterations by way of remedy, till they ſhould be able to bring the government into the right channel again: for the proviſions of Oxford were only proviſional, like the interim in Germany, before the reformation; and to continue no longer than as ſo many ſcaffolds, till the ruins of the realm were repaired. Accordingly the utmoſt proviſion that I find was but for twelve years, as we have it in the oath of the governors of the King’s caſtles, in the words below^[12].

So that the barons of England were certainly in the right, when they ſaid, that the proviſions of Oxford were founded upon the Magna Charta which the French King and the parliament allowed; for every greater contains in it the leſs, and the power of the twenty four counſellors at Oxford, as much as the power of coerſion and puniſhing is above that of directing.

The French King and parliament were ſo far parties, that (as we ſaw before) they had promiſed the King a powerful aſſiſtance; which gave him encouragement ſo openly to break his oath, and undoe what he had done: which certainly the barons did not then know, or elſe they would have been very far from ſubmitting to their determination; eſpecially when they could get nothing by it. For if he had proceeded in favour of them, they only had been where they were before, a foreign confirmation adding no authority to the Engliſh laws; and that determination that was made, only ſerved to puzzle the cauſe, and to bring on a war upon them, which it muſt be this unwiſe expedient was intended to prevent.

The firſt aggreſſor in this war was Roger Mortimer, who invaded and ravaged the lands of Simon Monfort; but he was ſoon even with him: the prince likewiſe took ſeveral caſtles; and Robert Ferrars earl of Derby, who was of neither ſide, took that opportunity to ſeize and plunder the city of Worceſter, and do a deal of miſchief, for which he was afterwards ſent priſoner to the Tower. The army of the barons eaſily retook what had been taken, and marched towards London, where John Mansel lieutenant of the tower fearing he ſhould be ſeverely handled by the barons, for he was the moſt ſpecial counſellor the King and Queen had, ran away by ſtealth. The King likewiſe, fearing leſt the barons army ſhould beſiege him in the Tower, by the mediation of ſome that were afraid as well as he, yielded to an agreement with the barons, though it afterwards proved to be but ſhort-lived; and promiſed to keep the proviſions of Oxford; but the queen, inſtigated by a feminine malice, oppoſed it all ſhe could. The form of this peace between the King, the earl and barons, was upon theſe conditions; “Firſt, that Henry, ſon of the King of the Romans, (who was then the King’s priſoner) ſhould be releaſed. Secondly, that all the King’s caſtles throughout all England ſhould be delivered up to the cuſtody of the barons. Thirdly, that the proviſions of Oxford be inviolably kept. Fourthly, that all foreigners by a ſet time ſhould evacuate the kingdom, excepting thoſe whoſe ſtay here ſhould be allowed by common conſent, as truſty to the “realm.” [Perhaps not a quarter of the number which we have in one naturalization act.] “That for the time to come the natives of England, who are faithful and practicable to the realm, may have the ordering of all affairs under the King.”

These things being, thus covenanted, in a little while after, pacts, promiſes, oaths notwithſtanding, ſeveral knights on the King’s ſide ſtored Windſor Caſtle with a great quantity of proviſions and arms, and they and the prince begun a new war. This war laſted with great variety of ſtrange ſucceſſes on both ſides for ſeveral years, till the earl of Leiceſter was overthrown and ſlain in the battle of Eveſham. Upon which the hiſtorian ſays; “And thus ended his labours that great man Earl Simon, who ſpent, not only his, but himſelf in behalf of the oppreſſed, in aſſerting a juſt cauſe, and maintaining the rights of the realm. He undertook this cauſe, in which he fought to the death, by the advice, and at the inſtance of the bleſſed Roger Grosthead biſhop of Lincoln, who conſtantly affirmed, that all that died for it were crowned with martyrdom.”

After this deciding battle the prince followed his blow, by adviſing his father to call a parliament forthwith, before his victory cooled; which accordingly met at Wincheſter, September 8. whereas the fight was Auguſt 5, before. In this parliament they did what they would with the earl’s broken and diſperſed party: “The chief of them were impriſoned to be puniſhed at the King’s will; the city of London disfranchiſed for their rebellion; all that took part with Earl Simon diſinherited, whoſe lands the King preſently beſtowed upon thoſe that had ſtuck faithfully by him, as a reward of their merit.” Ottobon the legate, alſo called a council at Northampton, and there excommunicated all the biſhops and clergy that had aided and favoured Earl Simon againſt the King; namely, the biſhops of Wincheſter, London, Worceſter, and Cheſter: of whom the biſhop of Worceſter poorly died [viliter] in a few days after this ſentence; but the other three went to Rome to make their peace with the pope. In ſhort he excommunicated all others whatſoever, that had been againſt the King.

The diſinherited barons thought never to the worſe of their cauſe for this overthrow, but ſtill continued in arms for three years after. And though they were forced to fly from place to place, and live as they could; yet they ſeemed to be the conquerors. For their anſwer to the legate’s meſſage to them in the iſle of Ely, ſhews them to be men of great wiſdom, integrity, and conſtancy; and their demands likewiſe are like themſelves. For they require the legate “to reſtore the council of the whole realm, which he had irreverently ejected out of the realm, the biſhops of Wincheſter, London, and Chicheſter, men of great counſel and prudence, for want of whom the nation ſunk. They require him to admoniſh the King to remove aliens from his council, by whom the land is held in captivity. That their lands may be reſtored them without redemption at ſeven years purchaſe, which was lately allowed them at Coventry. That the proviſions of Oxford be kept. That hoſtages be delivered them into the iſle of Ely, and they to hold that place peaceably, for five years; while they ſhall ſee how the King performs his promiſes.” And, after, this, they reckon up ſeveral grievances, as the collation of benefices upon ſtrangers which are for the livelihood and maintenance of natives only, &c. All which they admoniſh the lepate to ſee amended.

“Thus they treat,” ſays Daniel^[13], “not like men, whom their fortunes had laid upon the ground, but as if they had been ſtill ſtanding; ſo much wrought either the opinion of their cauſe, or the hope of their party. But this ſtubbornneſs ſo exaſperates the King, as the next year following he prepares a mighty army, beſets the iſle ſo that he ſhuts them up; and prince Edward, with bridges made of boats, enters the ſame, to whom ſome of them yielded themſelves, ate the reſt were diſperſed by flight.”

He is needed not to have been at ſuch a loſs for a reaſon of theſe men’s reſolute behaviour, much leſs to have miſcalled it, if he had heeded the fourth article of their anſwer to the legate which he has tranſlated to loſs. To the fourth they ſay, “That their firſt oath was for the profit of the realm, and the whole church, and all the prelates of the kingdom have paſſed the ſentence of excommunication againſt all that contravene it: and being ſtill of the ſame mind, they are ready prepared to die for the ſaid oath. Wherefore they require the legate to recall his ſentence of excommunication, otherwiſe they would appeal to the apoſtolic ſee, and even to a general council, or if need were, to the ſovereign judge of all.”

Now they that had this ſenſe of their duty, and of the public good, though they were loſt men in the eye of the world, could not chuſe but ſtand upon their terms; neither could they abate one jot of a righteous cauſe, which was all they had left to ſupport them. And that was enough; for he that is in the right, is always ſuperior to him that is in the wrong.

The parliament at Wincheſter ſeems to have ſat in hot blood, but that King’s ſucceeding parliaments were far from ſuffering him to be abſolute and arbitrary, “though there was never a rebel amongſt them.” For the parliament at Bury gave nothing but very ſmart denials to his and the legate’s ſcurvy petitions, petitiones peſſimas, as they called them, which were contained in eight articles. The firſt was, “That the prelates and rectors of churches ſhould grant him the tenths for three years to come, and for the year laſt paſt, ſo much as they gave the barons for guarding the ſea againſt ſtrangers.” To this they gave anſwer, “That the war began by unjuſt covetiſe, and is not yet over [the iſle of Ely being not then reduced] and it were neceſſary to let alone ſuch very bad petitions as theſe, and to treat of the peace of the realm, and to convert his parliament to the profit of church and kingdom, not to the extortion of pence, eſpecially when the land is ſo far deſtroyed by the war, that it will be a long time, if ever, before it recover.” The ſeventh is in the pope’s behalf, for the ſpeedy preaching up of a cruſado throughout all England. To this they made anſwer, “That the people of the land are in a great part, deſtroyed by the war; and if they ſhould now engage in a cruſado, few or none would be left for the defence of their country; whereby it is manifeſt, that the legate would have the natural progeny of the land into baniſhment, that ſtrangers might the more eaſily conquer the land.” Art. VIII. Alſo it was ſaid, “That the prelates were bound to agree to all theſe petitions nolens volens, becauſe of the late oath at Coventry, where they ſwore they would aid our lord the King, all manner of ways they could poſſibly.” To this they made anſwer, “That when they took that oath, they did not underſtand by it any other aid but ghoſtly and wholeſome advice.” A very trim anſwer. And all the reſt are much after the ſame faſhion. And to conclude this whole reign, at his laſt parliament at Marleburgh, Magna Charta was confirmed in all its points.

Thus have I brought down the hiſtory of Magna Charta to the end of Henry III. wherein you have a ſhort, but punctual account of that affair, and the true face of things. For I have told the ſtory with the ſame air the writer himſelf does, and have been ſo faithful in the relation, as to keep cloſe to his very phraſe; whereby, in ſeveral places, it is the worſe Engliſh though the better hiſtory. As for the writer himſelf, he was the moſt able and ſufficient, and the moſt competent that could be, writing upon the ſpot, and having all the advantages which, added to his own diligence, could give him true information. For he was hiſtoriographer royal to K. Henry II. and invited by him to the familiarity of dining and being in frequent conference with him; was directed by him to record ſeveral matters, and to ſet them down in indelible characters, which, I believe, his will prove. And as to his integrity, no man can ſuſpect him, unleſs it be for being partial on the court ſide, as being in their pay: but his writings ſhew that he was above that mean conſideration; and though he gives the King a caſt of his office where he can, and relates things to his advantage, yet he has likewiſe done right to the barons, and was a faſter friend to truth than to either of them. And accordingly in King Edward the firſt’s claim to a ſuperiority over the kingdom of Scotland, this very writing is brought as authentic hiſtory concerning what paſſed at York, 35 Henry III. and is cited by the name of The Chronicle of St. Alban’s. In one thing he excels, which is owing to the largeneſs and freedom of his converſe with perſons of the firſt quality, that he not only records barely what was done, but what every body ſaid upon all occaſions, which (as Baronius ſays it is) makes it a golden book. For men’s ſpeeches give us great light into the meaning of their actions, which is the very inſide of hiſtory.

In this hiſtory of Magna Charta, the hiſtory of the baron’s wars was neceſſarily involved, ſo that in writing one I muſt write both: for, as you ſee, they were wholly undertaken for recovering and maintaining the rights of the kingdom contained in that charter, and were in affirmance of it. Whereby they that have been told the baron’s wars were a rebellion, may know better; and every honeſt man will find their cauſe to be ſo juſt, that if he had lived in thoſe days he muſt have joined in it; for ſo we did lately in the fellow to it, at the laſt revolution. It is well indeed for us, that our anceſtors lived before us, and with the expence of their blood recovered the Engliſh rights for us, and ſaved them out of the fire; otherwiſe we had been ſealed up in bondage, and ſhould have had neither any Engliſh rights to defend, nor their noble example to juſtify ſuch a defence, but ſhould have been in as profound an ignorance that ever there were any ſuch fights, as the barons themſelves were of Henry the firſt’s charter. For in all the ſteps the barons took we followed them. Did they take arms for the ſecurity of their liberties? ſo did we. Did they withdraw their allegiance from an arbitrary and perjured King? ſo did we. Did they ſet another over his head, and proceed to the creation of a new King? ſo did we. And if we had miſcarried in our affair, we had not been called rebels, but treated as ſuch; and the biſhop of London and all our worthies had made but a blue buſineſs of it, without putting on the prince of Orange’s livery. And therefore it is great ingratitude in thoſe that receive any benefit or protection by this happy revolution, to blemiſh the cauſe of the barons, for it is the ſame they live by; and as for thoſe that had a hand in it, to call the baron’s cauſe a rebellion, is utterly unaccountable, and like men that are not of their own ſide.

Leaving therefore, the proper monk of reproaching and reviling both theſe as damnable rebellions, to the people of the court, and the harder work of proving them ſo, I ſhall undertake the delightful taſk of doing ſervice to this preſent rightful government, and at the ſame time of doing right to the memory of our antient deliverers, to whom we owe all that diſtinguiſhes the kingdom of England from that of Ceylon. It had been wholly needleſs to have written one word upon this ſubject, if this affair had ever been ſet in a true light, as it lies in antiquity; or if our modern hiſtorians had not given a falſe turn to ſo much of the matter of fact as they have related, and ruined the text by the comment. Mr. Daniel has done this very remarkably; for after he has given us enough of this hiſtory to juſtify the baron’s proceedings, and they had gained the eſtabliſhment of Magna Charta, he begins his remarks upon it in theſe words^[14]: “And in this manner (though it were to be wiſhed it had not been in this manner) were recovered the rights of the kingdom.” Now, though if it had not been done in this manner, it had not been done at all; and though he allows it to be the recovery of their own, the rights of the kingdom, which one would think a very juſt and neceſſary work; yet this ſhrug of a wiſh leaves an impreſſion upon his reader, as if the ways wherein they recovered them were unwarrantable. On the other ſide, King John would not allow them to be the rights of the kingdom at any rate^[15], “But vain ſuperſtitious, unreaſonable demands; the barons might as well aſk him his kingdom; and he ſwore he would never grant them ſuch liberties, as ſhould make himſelf to be a ſlave.” So that I have two things to ſhew: Firſt, That they were verily and indeed the kingdom’s rights; and ſecondly, That they were very fairly recovered: and that the barons were in the right, both as to matter and ſubſtance, and no way reprovable for manner and form.

The charter of Henry I. was what the barons went by, and ſo muſt we; where, towards the latter end, we find theſe words^[16]: “I reſtore you the law of King Edward, with thoſe amendments my father made to it by the advice of his parliament.” Here was no new grant, he barely made reſtitution, and gave them back their own. And ſo we find it in his fathers time^[17]. “He grants them the ſelf-ſame laws and cuſtoms which his couſin Edward held before him.” Or, as Ordericus Vitalis, a Norman has it^[18], “He granted to the Engliſh that they might perſevere in the laws of their fathers.” So that in effect he granted Engliſhmen to be Engliſhmen, to enjoy the laws they were born to, and in which they were bred; their fathers’ laws, and their mother tongue. A countryman would call this a pig of their own ſow. And yet this grant by way of charter, and under ſeal, whereby he gave them their own and quitted all claim to it himſelf, was looked upon as the utmoſt confirmation and corroboration, and the laſt degree of ſettlement amongſt the Normans. And therefore, though King William was too ſtrong for his own Charter, and ſhamefully broke it, yet they covenanted with his ſon Henry I. before they choſe him King, that as ſoon as he was crowned he ſhould give them another, which accordingly he did. In the ſame manner they dealt with King Stephen. And this made them covenant after the ſame manner with King John before they admitted him to the crown; and ſo much inſiſted afterwards upon having his charter, and having their liberties ſecured and fortified with his ſeal, ſigillo ſuo munitas, as they termed it. For in thoſe days, what was not under ſeal, was not thought good in law: and not long before in Henry the ſecond’s time, the biſhop of Lincoln in a trial before the King, was for ſetting aſide all the Saxon king’s charters granted to the Abby of St. Alban’s, for want of a ſeal, till the King ſeeing a charter of Henry I. which confirmed them all^[19], “Why here,” ſays he, “is my grandfather’s ſeal; this ſeal is the ſeal of all the original charters, as much as if it were affixed to every one of them.”---“Which wiſe deciſion of a young King was thought like Solomon’s judgment in finding out the true mother. For the St. Alban’s men had no way of anſwering their adverſaries objection, That all Privileges that wanted ſeals are Void, becauſe they could not abſolutely ſay there were no ſeals in the Saxon times, there being a charter of Edward the confeſſor, granted to Weſtminſter abby with a ſeal to it.” But they might eaſily have bethought themſelves that he was more than half a Norman.

Now theſe being the undoubted rights of the kingdom, their antient laws, and liberties, and birthright, we have the leſs reaſon to be ſollicitous in what manner they ſhall at any time recover them: let them look to that, who violently or fraudulently keep them from them. For it would be a ridiculous thing in our law, for a man to have an eſtate in land, and he could not come at it. The law will give him a way. If the law gives the King royal mines, it gives him a power to dig in any man’s land where they are, that he may come at his own. And ſo if a nation have rights, all that is neceſſary for the keeping and enjoying of them, is, by law, included in thoſe rights themſelves, as purſuant to them.

But, becauſe this is a great point, and I would willingly leave it a clear one, I ſhall ſhew that the barons proceeded legally in their whole affair, and according to the known principles of the Engliſh government; and that all the pope’s infallible bribe arguments againſt them, which have been ſince plentifully tranſcribed, are nothing worth.

I might, indeed, content myſelf with the ſhort blunt argument of Mr. Selden, who was known to have the learning of twenty men, and honeſty in proportion. Firſt, That the cuſtom and uſage of England is the law of England, as the uſage of parliament is the law of parliament. Now the anceſtors of K. John’s barons recovered their rights in the ſame way. This was done in William the firſt’s time, in the fourth year of his reign, when they^[20] raiſed a great army; and it was time, ſeeing that all they had lay at ſtake under a cruel and inſolent prince. Whereupon^[21] K. William being in a bodily fear of baſely loſing the whole kingdom, which he had gained with the effuſion of ſo much blood, and of being cut off himſelf, called a parliament to Barkhamſted, where he ſwore over again “To obſerve inviolably the good, antient, approved laws of the realm, and eſpecially the laws of K. Edward.” How inviolably he afterwards kept that oath, and how “he^[22] enriched his Normans with the ſpoils of his own natural men, the Engliſh, who, of their own accord, prefered him to the crown,” I had rather the reader himſelf ſhould find out, by his own peruſal of that inſtructive piece of hiſtory. Secondly, The Engliſh government is upon covenant and contract. Now it is needleſs in leagues and covenants to ſay, what ſhall be done in caſe the articles are broken. If ſatisfaction be denied, the injured party muſt get it as he can. Taking of caſtles, ſhips, and towns, are not provided for and made lawful by any ſpecial article; but thoſe things are always implied, and always done.

Yet ſeeing pope Innocent III. in his bull for diſannulling Magna Charta for ever, and in his excommunication of the barons, had afforded us his reaſons for ſo doing, we can do no leſs than confider them. The weight of his charge againſt them is this; “That inſtead of endeavouring to gain what they wanted by fair means, they broke their oath of fidelity; that they, who were vaſſals preſumed to raiſe arms, againſt their lord, and knights againſt their King, which they ought not to have done, but in caſe he had unjuſtly oppreſſed them and that they made themſelves both judges and executors in their own cauſe: that they reduced him to thoſe ſtraits, that whatſoever they durſt aſk, he durſt not deny; whereby he was compelled by force, and that fear which is incident to the ſtouteſt man, to make a diſhonourable and dirty agreement with them, which was likewiſe unlawful and unjuſt, to the great derogation and diminution of his own right and honour. Now becauſe,” ſays the pope, “it is ſpoken to me by the lord in the prophet, I have ſet thee up over nations and kingdoms, to pluck up and deſtroy, to build and to plant, he proceeds to damn as well the charter as the obligations and cautions in behalf of it; forbidding the King under the penalty of an anathema to keep it, or the barons to require it to be kept.”

The barons might well ſay that the pope went upon falſe ſuggeſtions; for he is out in every thing. For firſt, there was no winning of King John by ſeeking to him: he would not have granted them their liberties, if they had kiſſed his toe. The barons had really borne longer with him than they ought: for having ſtipulated to have their rights reſtored to them before they admitted him to the crown, it was too long to ſtay above fifteen years for them, and to ſuffer ſo much miſchief to be done in the mean time through their neglect. In the third year of his reign, they met indeed at Leiceſter, and uſed a ſort of negative means to come at their rights; for they ſent him word, “That unleſs he would reſtore them their rights, they would not attend him into France.” But upon this, as Hoveden ſays, the King uſing ill counſel, required their caſtles; and beginning with William Albinet, demanded his caſtle of Beauvoir. William delivers his ſon in pledge, but kept his caſtle. And ſo upon ſeveral occaſions, they were forced to deliver up for hoſtages their ſons, nephews, and neareſt of kin. And thus he tyrannized over them, till the arcibiſhop put them into a right method: and when at laſt they had agreed to demand their rights, and had demanded them, they ſtaid for an anſwer from Chriſtmas to Eaſter; for ſo long he demurred upon what he was bound to have done above fifteen years before, and then gave them a flat denial. So that all the world, ſaving his holineſs, muſt ſay, that the barons were not raſh upon him.

Nor ſecondly, that the barons had no regard to their oath of fidelity^[23]. For their oath of fidelity was upon this condition, that Earl John ſhould reſtore all men their rights; and upon the faith which his commiſſioners ſolemnly made to them that thus it ſhould be, they ſwore fidelity to him at Northampton. So that King John had no right at all to this early oath of fidelity, becauſe he himſelf would not keep covenant, nor fulfil the terms and conditions upon which it was made. The^[24] bargain was, Earl John ſhould reſtore all men their rights; upon this they were ſworn: but Earl John did not nor would not reſtore all men their rights; and therefore it was Earl John himſelf that releaſed them from that oath, and gave it them again. For I never heard of a covenant on one ſide. The morrow after his coronation, he received their homages and fealties over again, but that was the counterpart of his coronation-oath. And that again he bitterly broke; though when he was adjured not to preſume to receive the crown, unleſs he meant to fulfil his oath, he then promiſed, “That by the help of God, he would keep all that he had ſworn bona fide.” How he kept that part which concerned the church, no way concerns this diſcourſe, becauſe he was at this time the pope’s white boy, having before given him his kingdoms of England and Ireland, and had then ſent him money to confound the barons and charter. But the other two thirds of that oath which concerned the people, I will here ſet down, that every body who has read his reign, may ſee how truly and faithfully he kept it^[25]. “That he would deſtroy the bad laws, and eſtabliſh good ones in their room, and adminiſter right juſtice in the realm of England.” His not keeping the oath to deſtroy perverſe laws, and ſubſtitute good, was the preſent controverſy and quarrel which his barons had with him. For the whole meaning of the charter was to aboliſh all the ill depraved laws and cuſtoms that had been introduced, and to reſtore the good; antient and approved laws of the kingdom inſtead of them. But the pope, amongſt other propoſals he made, would fain have prevented and baffled the charter by this expedient, “That King John ſhould be mound to revoke all abuſes introduced in his time.” This was a lame buſineſs indeed, when the oppreſſed barons wanted to be relieved from the tyrannous uſages introduced in former reigns, and from a ſucceſſion of evils. King John by his coronation-oath was bound to deſtroy and aboliſh all the bad laws that were before him, and ſo are our Kings to this day, and not to make a former tyrannous reign a pattern. The barons might indeed have had all King John’s latter grievances redreſſed, aid yet have periſhed under the weight of ſuch as were in his brother Richard’s reign. After Daniel has reckoned up ſeveral intolerable exactions and grievances in that reign, he has theſe words. “And with theſe vexations (ſaith Hoveden) all England, from ſea to ſea, was reduced to extreme poverty; and yet it ended not here: another torment is added to the confuſion of the ſubjects by the juſtices of the foreſts, who not only execute thoſe hideous laws introduced by the Norman, but impoſe others of more tyrannical ſeverity, as the memory thereof being odious, deſerves to be utterly forgotten: having afterward by the hard labour of our noble anceſtors, and the goodneſs of more regular princes, been aſwaged, and now out of uſe.” This deceitful remedy of the pope’s therefore would have undone the barons, for ſuch a partial information of abuſes would have eſtabliſhed all the reſt; according to that known maxim, Exceptio firmat regulam in caſibus non exceptis.

To return to King John’s oath; neither did he keep that branch of it which relates to the adminiſtration of true and upright juſtice: unleſs you will allow the deſtroying of a brave baron, William Brause, and the famiſhing of his wife and two ſons in Windſor Caſtle, for a raſh word of her’s; and the putting the archdeacon of Norwich into a ſheet of lead, and ſeveral ſuch barbarities, to be choice and eminent inſtances of it. So that when the pope charges the barons with the breach of their oath of fidelity to King John, it is unknown to me that they owed him any; which King John himſelf ſeemed to miſtruſt, when after the barons demand of their liberties, he uſed that fruitleſs precaution of cauſing his whole kingdom to ſwear fidelity to him, and renew their homages. For what ſignified this ſwearing to him never ſo often, while he himſelf was breaking the original contract, and rendering all their fidelities meer nullities, by deſtroying the foundation of them, and the only conſideration upon which they were made? It is, as Laud ſays, “A covenant is a knot, you need not looſe both ends of it, but untying one end you unty both.” And ſuch is the mutual bond of ligeance betwixt King and people, it is conditional and reciprocal: and therefore it was impoſſible for King John’s ſubjects to be bound while he was looſe. That the fidelity of King’s and ſubjects to each other is mutual, conditional, reciprocal, and dependent, I ſhall prove by the authority of two Kings, who very well knew how that matter ſtood. It is a ſolemn covenant of their’s, which becauſe it is ſhort, I will here tranſcribe^[26]. “They both of them enter a ſaving for the fidelity they owe to their ſubjects, ſo long as their ſubjects ſhall keep their fidelity to them.” Here we have that expreſſed which was ever implied: for whether the Quamdiu, eouſque, quouſque, uſquequo, be in or out, it matters not. At K. Stephen’s firſt parliament at Oxford, he made them a charter, which he promiſed before his coronation, whereby he freed both clergy and laity from all their grievances wherewith they had been oppreſſed, and confirmed it by his oath in full parliament: where likewiſe, ſays Daniel, the biſhops ſwore fealty unto him, but with this condition, “So long as he obſerved the tenor of this charter.” Now it ſeems this clauſe of abundant cautelouſneſs was not in the oath of the earls and barons, neither needed it: for if K. Stephen broke with his people, of courſe their fealty ceaſed. This we have again expreſſed in words at length, in the ſolemn charter of the ſame King, wherein by conſent of parliament he adopted and made Henry II. his heir, and gave him and his heirs the realm of England^[27].

Their duty to him ceaſed till he mended his fault, and returned again to keep his covenant; Quoſque errata corrigat, & ad predictam pactionem obſervandam redeat. Paulo infra. There is no need of theſe words at length at the end of every charter or petition of right, in caſe it be broken, which we find in the cloſe of Henry the third’s charter, Anno Regni 49. Liceat omnibus de Regno noſtro contra nos inſurgere, & ad gravamen noſtrum opem & operam dare, acſi nobis in nullo tenerentur^[28]. “All the men in our realm may riſe up againſt us, and annoy us with might and main, as if they were under no obligations to us:” becauſe in the Poliſh coronation-oath, which is likewiſe in words at length, we have a plain hint why they had better be omitted and ſuppreſſed^[29]. “And in caſe I break my oath, (which God forbid) the inhabitants of this realm ſhall not be bound to yield me any obedience.” Now this God forbid, and the harſh ſuppoſition of breaking an oath at the very making of it, is better omitted, when it is for every body’s eaſe rather to ſuppoſe that it will be faithfully kept; eſpecially ſeeing that in caſe it be unhappily broken, the very natural force and virtue of a contract does of itſelf ſupply that omiſſion. Neither is it practiſed in articles of agreement and covenants under hand and ſeal between man and man, to make a ſpecial proviſion, that upon breach of covenants they ſhall ſue one another either at common-law, or in chancery; becauſe this implies that one of them ſhould prove a knave and diſhoneft; but when that comes to paſs I am ſure Weſtminſter-Hall cannot hold them.

In like manner the barons, after they had borne with K. John’s breach of covenant very much too long, ſwore, at laſt, at the high altar at St. Edmondſbury, “That if he refuſed them their liberties, they would make war upon him ſo long as to withdraw themſelves from their fidelity to him, till ſuch time as he confirmed their laws and liberties by his charter^[30].” And afterwards, at the demand of them, they ſay, that which is a very good reaſon for their reſolve, “That he had promiſed them thoſe antient laws and liberties, and was already bound to the obſervation of them by his own proper oath.” So that the pope was quite out, when he ſays the barons ſet at nought, and broke their oath of fidelity to K. John, for they only helped him to keep his.

The next thing objected againſt the barons is this: “That they who were vaſſals preſumed to raiſe arms againſt their lord, and knights againſt their King which they ought not to have done, although he had unjuſtly oppreſſed them. And that they made themſelves both judges and executors in their own cauſe.” All which is very eaſily anſwered. Firſt, it was always lawful for vaſſals to make war upon their lords, if they had juſt cauſe. So our Kings did perpetually upon the Kings of France, to whom they were vaſſals all the while they held their territories in that kingdom. And by the law of England an inferior vaſſal might fight his lord in a weighty cauſe, even in duel. The pope ſeems here willing to depreſs the barons with low titles, that he may the better ſet off the preſumption of their proceedings; but before I have ended, I ſhall ſhew what vaſſals the barons were. I ſhould be loth to ſay, that the Kings of England were not all along as good men as their lords of France, or that the barons of England were not good enough to aſſert their rights againſt any body, but this I do ſay, that it was always lawful for vaſſals to right themſelves even while they were vaſſals, and without throwing up their homage and fealty: for that was never done till they declared themſelves irreconcilable enemies, and were upon terms of defiance. Thus the Kings of England always make war in defence of their rights, without throwing up their homage and fealty, till that laſt bitter enraged war of Henry II. wherein he had that ill ſucceſs as broke his heart, and forced him to a diſhonourable peace, the concluſion of which he out-lived but three days. Amongſt other things, he did homage to the King of France, becauſe, in the beginning of this war, he had rendered up his homage to him. Matt. Paris takes notice of it as an extraordinary thing, and I do not remember it done before. Quia in principio hujus guerræ homagium reddiderat regi Franciæ, p. 151. The ſame was practiſed by Henry III. towards that great man Richard, the marſhal; he ſent him a defiance by the biſhop of St. David’s into Wales. Upon which, the marſhal tells friar Agnellus, the King’s counſellor in that long conference before mentioned, Unde homo ſuus non fui, ſed ab ipſus homagio per ipſum abſolutus. This was reciprocal from the lord to the vaſſal, or from the vaſſal to the lord, as he found cauſe. And therefore, K. John’s vaſſals, who are here repreſented as if they were food for tyranny, and bound by their places to be unjuſtly oppreſſed, for ſo the pope allows the caſe; I ſay, theſe vaſſals, if they had been ſo minded, inſtead of being contented with a charter at Running-Mead, might ſoon have been quite off of K. John, by reſigning their homage to him. This K. Edward the ſecond’s vaſſals did in manner and form by the mouth of William Trussel, a judge, in theſe words^[31]: “I William Trussel, in the name of all men of the land of England, and of the whole parliament procurator, reſign to thee, Edward, the homage formerly made to thee, and henceforward I defy thee, and prive thee of all royal power and dignity, and ſhall never hereafter be tendant on thee as King.” This was the ſtanding law long before the time of K. John’s barons; for the parliament in the 10th of Richard II. ſent the King a ſolemn meſſage, that^[32] by an antient ſtatute, they had power to depoſe a King that would not behave himſelf as he ought, nor be ruled by the laws of the realm: and they inſtance in this depoſing of Edward II. but withal, as a late and modern thing, in reſpect of the antiquity of that ſtatute. Such an irrefragable teſtimony and declaration of a parliament ſo long ſince, concerning what was ordained in the eldeſt ages long before, plainly ſhews the Engliſh conſtitution, and is a full confutation of the late K. James’s memorial at Ryſwick. And this power ſeems to be well known to K. John’s barons, who, when there is occaſion, talk familiarly of creating a new King, and afterwards were forced to do it, though now they only ſought their charter, and did not attempt to take from him his kingdom, which the pope indeed ſays, but it was not true.

So far have I cleared them from preſumption as vaſſals: now as knights. It is true, their tenure was to aſſiſt the King againſt the enemies of the realm; but how, if he turned ſo himſelf? Unjuſt oppreſſion, which is the pope’s own ſuppoſition, is no friendly part. Muſt they then aid him againſt the realm, and be the inſtruments of his unjuſt oppreſſion upon themſelves? Their duty and ſervice was to the realm in chief, to him it was ſubaltern: and therefore, knowing their duty better than the pope did, they all left K. John but ſeven, before he would conſent to the parliament at Running-Mead. For it is plain the pope would have had them paſſive-obedient knights, and a contradiction to their very order, whereby for certain they had forfeited their ſpurs.

“Yea, but the barons were judges and executors in their own cauſe.” And who can help it, if they were made ſo in the firſt inſtitution, and from the very foundation of this government? As ſoon as the Saxons had choſen from among themſelves one King, this the Mirror ſays expreſsly, was the juriſdiction of the King’s companions. For though the King had no peer, yet if he wronged any of his people, it was not fit that he that was party ſhould be likewiſe judge, nor for the ſame reaſon, any of his commiſſioners: and therefore theſe companions were, by their place, to right the ſubjects in parliament^[33].

The ſame is more largely ſet down by the lord chief juſtice Bracton; and therefore I will tranſcribe it in his own words^[34].

He ſays, the King has theſe above him, God; alſo the law, which makes him a King; alſo his parliament, namely, the earls and barons, who ought to bridle a lawleſs King, &c. In this large paſſage you plainly ſee that what the barons did was ſo far from being the abſurd and preſumptuous uſurpation of making themſelves judges and executors in their own cauſe, that it was their bounden duty. It was not only lawful for them to reſtrain and bridle a lawleſs King, but it was incumbent upon them under the greateſt penalties, and neither lawful nor ſafe for them to let it alone. So that here the barons were hard beſet; the pope delivers them up to Satan for what they did, and they had expoſed themſelves to the vengeance of God, and going to hell, if they had not done it. But they choſe to do their duty to God and their diſtreſſed country, and to venture the cauſeleſs curſe from Rome.

I might multiply quotations out of Fleta and others to the ſame purpoſe, but what I have ſet down is ſufficient; and therefore I ſhall rather take this occaſion to admire the wiſdom of the Engliſh conſtitution, which ſeems to be built for perpetuity. For how can a government fail which has ſuch laſting principles within it, and a ſeveral reſpective remedy lodged in the very bowels of it? The King has a known power of cauſing all his ſubjects to keep the law; that is an effectual remedy againſt lawleſneſs and anarchy; and the parliament has a power, if need be, to hold the King to the obſervation of the laws; and that is a preſervative againſt tyranny.

This is the Palladium of our government, which cannot be ſtolen as their’s was from Troy; for the keepers of it are too many to be killed, becauſe every Engliſhman has an intereſt in it: for which reaſon neither can it be bought and ſold, ſo as to make a title; and a man of a moderate underſtanding may eaſily undertake that it ſhall never be preached away from us. And hereby England is rendered the nobleſt commonwealth and kingdom in the world. I name commonwealth firſt, becauſe K. James I. in one of his ſpeeches to the parliament, ſays, “I am the great ſervant of the commonwealth.” From hence I infer, that this was a commonwealth before he was the great ſervant of it. Great and little is not the diſpute; for it is for the honour and intereſt of ſo glorious a ſtate, to have a prince as great as they can make him. As, to compare great things with ſmall, it is for the honour of the city to have a magnificent lord mayor. And K. James told us no news in naming his office; for this is the country, as Fortescue’s whole book ſhews us, “Where the King is appointed for the realm, and not the realm for the King.” And I can ſhew a hundred places in antiquity, where the body of this nation is called republic; as for inſtance, where Bracton ſays, laws are made communi republicæ ſponſione: though I confeſs, in relation to a King, it oftener goes by the prouder name of realm. But this conſtitution of ſtate and regal government, which is the conſtitution of England, cannot be ſo well underſtood by any other one book, as by my lord chancellor Fortescue’s, which was a book written for the nonce, and to inſtruct the prince into what ſort of government he was like to ſucceed. As directly oppoſite to this government, he has painted the French government, made up of men at arms and edicts^[35]. The prince in the concluſion of it, “Does not doubt but this diſcourſe of the chancellor’s will be profitable to the Kings of England, which hereafter ſhall be:” and I am ſatisfied, that no wiſe King, after he has read that little book, would change governments with the Grand Seignior.

And, as the prince has recommended the uſefulneſs of this diſcourſe to all future Kings; ſo I heartily recommend it to the careful peruſal of all Engliſhmen, who having ſeen a ſucceſſion of bad reigns, think there is ſomewhat in the mill, and that the Engliſh form of government is amiſs; whereas the fault lies only in the mal-adminiſtration; or if there ſhould happen to be any flaw or defect in any of the occaſional laws, it may eaſily, and ought to be rectified every parliament that ſits down, as the book ſays.

I never heard of any that diſliked the Engliſh government but ſome of the prince’s progenitors Kings of England; who thinking themſelves ſhackled and manacled by the Engliſh laws, endeavoured to throw off this ſtate-yoke, that they might rule or rather rage over their ſubjects^[36] in regal wiſe only, not conſidering that to govern the people by the laws of the ſtate, is not a yoke, but liberty; and the greateſt ſecurity, not only to the ſubject, but to the King himſelf, and in great meaſure rids him of care. But the ſame author, p. 88. tells us the ſucceſs of this attempt^[37]: theſe progenitors of the prince, who thus endeavoured, with might and main, to be rid of this ſtate-government, not only could not compaſs that larger power which they graſped at, but riſqued both themſelves and their kingdom. As we ourſelves have likewiſe ſeen in the late K. James. Or, on the other fide, perhaps it is diſliked by ſome who have ſeen no other effects of it, but what have proceeded from the Scotch King-Craft, which is worſe than no government at all, and have imputed thoſe corruptions and diſorders to the Engliſh frame of government; or at leaſt, think that it has no remedy provided againſt them: and ſo have fallen into the waking dreams of I know not what, for want of underſtanding the true of the Engliſh government. But I can aſſure theſe perſons, that upon farther ſearch they will find it quite otherwiſe, and that the Engliſh frame of government cannot be mended; and the old land-marks better placed, than we could, have laid them with our own hands; and withal, that all new projects come a thoufand years too late. For England has been ſo long formed to its own laws, and its laws to it, that we are all of a piece: and both in point of gratitude to our anceſtors who have ſpent their lives to tranſmit them to us, and out of love to poſterity to convey them a thing more valuable than their lives, we cannot think much at any time to venture our own. I am clearly of Sir Robert Philips’s mind in the parliament quarto Caroli: “Nothing ſo endangers us with his majeſty, as that opinion that we are antimonarchically affected; whereas, ſuch is and ever has been our loyalty, if we were to chuſe a government, we ſhould chuſe this monarchy of England above all governments in the world.” Which we lately have actually done, when no body could claim it, for they could only claim under a forfeited title: and at a time when too much occaſion had been given to the whole nation to be out of conceit with Kings.

As for the remaining part of the pope’s traſh, it is not worth anſwering. “That the barons reduced K. John to thoſe ſtraits, that what they dared to aſk, he dared not to deny.” For they aſked him nothing but their own, which he ought not to have denied them, nor have put them to the trouble of coming ſo hardly by it. Nor was the granting of Magna Charta a foul and diſhonourable compoſition, but juſt and honourable, and therefore honourable becauſe it was juſt. As for the compulſion there was in it, a man that muſt be made to be honeſt, cannot complain of that himſelf nor any body for him. In this whole affair, the pope’s apoſtolical authority went farther than his arguments.

It is the laſting honour of Magna Charta and the barons, that they were run down by a pope and a general council, which were the firſt that eſtabliſhed tranſubſtantiation^[38], and the depoſing of Kings for hereſy, either their own, or even that of their ſubjects, if they ſuffered them in their dominions: in which caſe the pope was to abſolve their ſubjects from their allegiance, to ſet up a cruſado againſt them, and to diſpoſe of their kingdoms to catholic free-booters. This was a powerful transforming metamorphoſing council; but they that could turn a bit of bread into a god, might more eaſily turn better chriſtians than themſelves into Saracens. I take the decrees of that general council to be a ſtanding declaration of war, yea a holy war, againſt all proteſtant princes and ſtates to the end of the world; whereby all papiſts are the public and declared enemies of that part of mankind, whom they have been pleaſed to call heretics: for it is the eſtabliſhed doctrine of their church.

Having diſproved Laud’s firſt charge againſt Magna Charta, That it had an obſcure birth, as if it had been baſe-born, illegitimate, or upſtart; I proceed to the ſecond, That it was foſtered by an ill nurſe. In anſwer to which, it would be ſufficient to ſay, that it was foſtered by a ſucceſſion of king’s, and above thirty parliaments; and if that be an ill nurse, let all the world find a better. But I ſhall be ſomewhat more particular, and ſhew what great care was taken of it in after-ages. In Edward the firſt’s time, after it had been confirmed three times, ordered to be twice a year read in churches, was ſealed with the biſhops’ and barons’ ſeals as well as the King’s own, and ſworn to by the barons and others^[39], that they would for ever afford their counſel and faithful aid towards their having it kept; I ſay, after all this which was good nurſing on the parliament’s part, it had like to have been overlaid by the pope: for when the King thought his whole buſineſs in Scotland was ſettled, he entered into an intrigue with pope Clement V. very much to the prejudice of Magna Charta; but Mr. Daniel ſhall have the honour of telling the ſtory^[40]. “This pope was native of Bourdeaux, and ſo the more regardful of the King’s deſire, and the King more confident of his favour; which to entertain and increaſe, he ſends him a whole furniture of all veſſels for his chamber of clean gold: which great gift ſo wrought with the pope, as he let looſe his lion, untied the King from the covenant made with his ſubjects concerning their charters confirmed to them by his three laſt acts of parliament, and abſolved him from his oath: an act of little piety in the pope, and of as little conſcience in the King, who (as if he ſhould now have no more need of his ſubjects) diſcovered with what ſincerity he granted what he did.

“But ſuddenly hereupon, there fell out an occaſion that brought him back to his right orb again, made him ſee his error, and reform it; finding the love of his people lawfully ordered, to be that which gave him all his power and means he had, and to know their ſubſtances were intermutual. The news of a new King made and crowned in Scotland, was that which wrought the effect hereof. For upon this he went to Scotland, and not long after wintering at Carliſle, held his laſt parliament there: wherein ſays Daniel, the ſtate was mindful of the pope’s late action, and got many ordinances to paſs for reformation of the abuſes of his miniſters, and his own former exactions.” In the next reign it was confirmed in the third year of Edward II. and afterwards greatly violated; but every body knows what came of that.

In K. Edward the third’s time it received many noble confirmations; and amongſt the reſt, in the forty ſecond year of his reign, it is provided, that all ſtatutes made againſt Magna Charta are void. In the fourth year of Richard II. it was appointed by the archbiſhop and lord chancellor to be read at the opening of the parliament, as if it were the foundation and ſtandard of our laws; and in ſhort, it was confirmed over and over again in the ſucceeding reigns; ſo that it was always common law, it is now become a great part of the ſtatute law, the ſtatute called The great charter of the liberties of England, and The laudable ſtatute of Magna Charta. With this honour and renown it deſcended all along down to us, till it fell into the very dregs of tyranny, and then they pick quarrels with it for its birth and breeding.

Now to ſtrip it out of Laud’s diſguiſing cant of an obſcure birth and ill nurſing, the plain notion of Magna Charta is this: It is a ſummary of the native and inherent rights of Engliſhmen, which the Norman Kings, by granting afterwards by charter, bound themſelves not to break in upon and invade: ſo that it was only a Norman-faſhioned ſecurity, that theſe rights ſhould not be violated. But we do not hold theſe rights by charter; no, not by the old dear-bought parchment and wax; for they are the birthright of Engliſhmen, which no kings could ever give or take away: they are, as they are called 25 Edward III. The franchiſes of the land, and every Engliſhman, by being born in the land, is born to them. And theſe original rights being a better inheritance to every Engliſhman than his private patrimony, how great ſoever, and being tranſmitted down to poſterity by the hard labour, ſweat, and blood of our anceſtors, they are the children’s bread: and it is not meet for us to take the children’s bread and caſt it away.

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1. De Laud. Leg. Ang.
2. A. D. 1213. Reg. 15.
3. P. 255, Which is here given at the end of the Hiſtory.
4. Indiſcrete rebellantes.
5. Qui pro juſtitia decertabat.
6. Illepidum reſponſum.
7. Univerſitas enim regni popularis, etſi non nobiles, &c.
8. Vid. artic 24. in depoſitione R. 2. Theſaurum, coronas, reliquias, & alia jocalia videlicet bona regni, quæ ab antiquo dimiſſa fuerant in archivis regni, pro honere regis & conſervatione regni ſui in omnem eventum, abſtulit, &c. rotulos recordorum, ſtatum & gubernationem regni ſui tangentium deleri & abradi fecit, &c. there went, Habent enim ex antiquo ſtatuto, &c. Decem. Scrip. 2752.
9. A. D. 1263. R. 47.
10. Univerſitati conceſſæ.
11. In Commune.
12. Ceo eſt le ſerment ke les gardens des chaſtels firent. Ke il les chaſtels le Rei leaument e en bone fei garderunt al oes le Rei et ſes heyres. E ke eus les rendrunt al Rei u a ſes heyres et a nul autre, et par ſun counſeil et en nul autre manere; Ceo eſt a ſaver per prodes homes de la terre eſluz a ſun counſeil, u par la greinure partie. E ceſte furme par eſcrit dure deſke a duz ans. E de ilokes eu avant per ceſt eſtablement et ceſt ſerment ne ſient conſireint ke franchement ne les puſſent rendre al Rei u a ſes heirs. Ann. Burton, 413.
13. Dan. p. 183.
14. Dan. p. 144.
15. Matt. Paris p. 254.
16. Lagam regis Edwardi vobis reddo, cum illis emendationibus, quibus pater meus eam emendavit conſilio baronum ſuorum.
17. Ces ſount les leis & les cuſtumes que le reis Wil. grentat a tut le puple de Engleterre apres le conqueſt de la terre. Ice les meſmes que le reis Edward ſun coſin tint devant lui. Ingulphus, p. 88.
18. P. 507. Anglis conceſſit ſub legibus perſeverare patriis.
19. In vitis abb. p. 79.
20. Matt. Paris in vit. Frederici abb. p. 48. Videntes igitur Angli rem agi pro capitibus, plures convocando exercitum numeroſum ac fortiſſimum conflaverunt.
21. Cœpit igitur rex vehementer ſibi timere, ne totum regnum, quod tanti ſanguinis effuſione adquiſierat, turpiter amitteret, etiam trucidatus.
22. Leges violans memoratas, ſuos Normannos, in ſuorum hominum Anglorum naturalium quiipſum ſponte ſublimaverunt, provocationem, locupletavit.
23. Juramento fidelitatis omnino contempto.
24. Et fecerunt illis fidem, quod comes Johannes jura ſua redderet univerſis; ſub tali igitur conventione comites & barones comiti memorato fidelitatem contra omnes homines juraverunt.
25. Et quod perverſis legibus deſtructis, bonas ſubſtituteret; & rectum juſtitiam in regno Anglia exerceret.
26. Ego Lodowicus Rex Francorum, & ego Rex Anglorum volumus ad omnes notitiam pervenire, nos Deo inſpirante, promiſiſſe, & juramente confirmaſſe, quod ſimul ibimus in ſervitium crucifixi, & ituri Hieroſolymam, ſuſcipiemus ſignaculum ſanctae crucis: & amodo volumus eſſe amici ad invicem, ita quod uterque noſtrum alteri conſervabit vitam, & membra & honorem terrenum, contra omnes homines. Et ſi quacunque perſona alteri noſtrum malum facere preſumpſerit, ego Henricus juvabo Lodowicum Regem Francorum dominum meum contra omnes homines, & ego Lodowicus jurabo Regem Anglorum Henricum contra omnes homines, ſicut fidelem meum, ſalva fide, quam debemus hominibus noſtris, quamdiu nobis fidelitatem ſervabunt. Acta autem ſunt hec apud Minantcourt ſeptimo octobris. A. D. 1177. M. P. p. 133. Forma pacti inter Anglorum & Gallorum reges initi.
27. Comites etiam & barones mei ligium homagium duci fecerunt ſalva mea fidelitate, quamdiu vixero & regnum tenuero: ſimili lege quod ſi ego a predictis recederem, omnino a ſervitio meo ceſſarent quouſque errata corrigerem. Brompton, Col. 1038.
28. In Archiv. London.
29. Quod ſi facramentum meum violavero (quod abſit) incolae hujus Regni nullam nobis obedientiam praeſtare tenebuntur.
30. Matt. Paris, p. 253.
31. Ego Willielmus Truſſel, vice omnium de terra Angliæ, & totius parliamenti procurator, tibi Edwarde reddo homagium prius tibi factum; & extunc diſſido te; & privo omni poteſtate regia & dignitate, nequaquam tibi de cætero tanquam regi pariturus. Knyghton, col. 2549.
32. Knyghton, col. 2683. Habent enim ex antiquo ſtatute, & de facto non longe retroactis temporibus experienter quod dolendum eſt habito, ſi rex ex maligno conſilio, quocunque vel inepta contumacia aut contemptu, ſeu proterva voluntate ſingelari ſe alienaverit a populo ſuo, nec voluerit per jura regni, & ſtatuta, & laudabiles ordinationes gubernari & regulari, extunc licitum eſt eis ipſum Regem de regali ſolio abrogare, &c.
33. Mirror, p. 9. Et tout ſoit que le Roye ne dewoit aver nul peere en lu terre, pur ceo nequidant que le Roy de ſon tort, s’il pecha vers aſcun d’ ſon people, ne nul de ſes commiſſaires, poit e. judge & partee, couvient per droit que le Roy uſt compaignions pur oyer & terminer aux parliaments treſtouts les breves & plaints de torts de le Roy, de la Roigne, & de lour infans, & de eux eſpecialment de que torts len ne poit aver autrement commun droit.
34. Rex autem habet ſuperiorem, Deum ſ. Item legem, per quam factus eſt rex: Item curiam ſuam, videlicet comites, barones, quia comites dicuntur quaſi ſocii regis; & qui habet ſocium habet magiſtrum: & ideo ſi Rex fuerit ſine fræno, ſine lege, debent ei frænum ponere, niſi ipſimet fuerint cum rege ſine fræno; & tunc clamabunt ſubditi, & dicent, Domine Jeſu Chriſte, in chamo & fraeno maxillas eorum conſtringe; ad quos Dominus, vocabo ſuper eos gentem robuſtam & longinguam & ignotam, cujus linguam ignorabunt, quae deſtruet eos, & evellet, radices eorum de terra, & a talibus judicabuntur, quia ſubditos noluerunt juſte judicare; & in fine, ligatis manibus & pedibus eorum, mittet eos in caminum ignis & tenebras exteriores, ubi erit fletus & ſtridor dentium. Lib. II. cap. 16. f. 34.
35. Forteſcue, p. 79.
36. Moliti ſunt hoc jugum politicum abjicere.
37. Qui ſic politicum regimen abjicere ſatagerunt.
38. Lateram. ſub Innocent III.
39. Knyghton, col. 2523. Et ad ejus obſervationem conſilium ſuum & auxilium fidele praeſtabunt in perpetuum.
40. Dan. p. 200. A. Reg. 33.