Oh, how he thought of Martin. And oh, how earnestly he prayed in those days.
And here we grieve to be forced to leave our Hubert awhile.
Chapter [21]: To Arms! To Arms!
Three years had passed away since the death of the Lady Sybil of Walderne.
A great change had passed over the scene. War—civil war—the fiercest of all strife—had fairly begun in the land. Lest my readers should marvel, like little Peterkin, “what it was all about,” let me briefly explain that the royal party desired absolute personal rule, on the part of the king, unfettered by law or counsellors. The barons desired that his counsellors should be held responsible for his acts, and that his power should be modified by the House of Lords or Barons, if not by the Commons as well; the latter idea was but dawning. In short, they desired a constitutional government, a limited monarchy, such as we now enjoy.
The Pope had been called upon to mediate, and had decided in favour of the King, and absolved him from his oath and obligations to his subjects, especially those “Provisions of Oxford.” Louis IX, King of France (afterwards known as Saint Louis), had been appealed to, but, though a very holy man, he was a staunch believer in the divine right of kings; and he, too, decided against the barons.
What were they to do? Most of the barons were in submission, but Earl Simon said:
“Though all should leave me, I and my four sons will uphold the cause of justice, as I have sworn to do, for the honour of the Church and the good of the realm of England.”
They changed their standing point, and, to meet the condemnation which both Pope and King of France had awarded to the “Provisions of Oxford,” took their stand upon Magna Carta instead.
But here they fared no better. In March 1264 a parliament had been summoned to meet at Oxford by the king, that he might there undo what the barons had done in 1258. At this period the action of our tale recommences.