Chapter X.
Malleus Scotorum
Edward I. (1272-1307.)
Edward II. (1307-1327.)
The English fleet was speeding towards the coast of Tunis, to which place the policy of Charles of Anjou had taken Louis IX. Prince Edward was already rejoicing at the idea of going back to his uncle, to gain instruction in Christian chivalry. But with the land appearing in the horizon, when approaching the port, the French vessels were seen in mourning, the flag being at half-mast. A feeling of uneasiness spread through the fleet. A little bark put out from shore; she came alongside the prince's vessel. "The holy king is dead," said the sailors, and they burst into tears. Prince Edward was in despair; he landed, but in imagination seemed to be walking among ghosts. The French soldiers, discouraged, sick, and disheartened, resolved to give up an enterprise the commencement of which had been so disastrous. The young King of France, Philip the Bold, urged Prince Edward to return like himself to his country; but Edward was inflexible. "I would go," said he, "even had I only with me Torvac, my equerry." As far as Trapani, in Sicily, he accompanied the funeral procession of King Philip, bearing the coffins of his father and brother. When he reached France the unfortunate young monarch had added to these the biers of his wife, his sister, and his brother-in-law, the King of Navarre.
Prince Edward left Sicily in the spring of 1271, making sail towards Acre, the only place which still remained in the hands of the Christians. He commanded a small band of troops, and the European knights who were in Palestine did not respond very readily to his appeal. An attack on Nazareth, followed by the massacre of the Mussulman garrison, and the repair of the walls round Acre, was the result of the Seventh Crusade, when Edward himself nearly fell a victim. He was in his camp, on the Friday after Whit-Sunday, towards the time of vespers; overcome by the heat, he was resting upon a couch, when a messenger from the Emir of Jaffa presented himself at the door of the tent. He was in frequent communication with the prince, and was, therefore, allowed to enter. The Arab presented his papers; then, suddenly drawing a dagger from his long sleeve, he stabbed the Prince in the region of the heart. Edward sprang up from his couch, and, knocking down the assassin, fractured his skull with a stool. Then, repressing with a sign the violence of his attendants, who had appeared on hearing the commotion, and who were mutilating the assassin's body,—"Of what use is it," he asked, "to strike a dead man?"
The prince's wound was slight, but the idea of poison presented itself to everybody's mind. The Spanish legend relates that Eleanor of Castile kneeled down before her husband, and, applying her lips to the wound, sucked the poison from the wound. This noble instance of conjugal love is disbelieved, however, by some historians. An English surgeon was called, who commenced a cruel operation. Eleanor was very pale, and her brother-in-law dragged her out of the tent. She struggled with him, weeping all the while. "It is better that you should cry," he said abruptly, "than that all England should be in mourning." Edward's wound was soon healed. As soon as his wife had recovered, after the birth of a little girl, called Joan of Acre, in token of her birthplace, the English troops set sail again, promising themselves, as King Richard had done, to come back to the Holy Land with larger forces. But the ardor for the crusades had died out. Saint Louis and Prince Edward of England were the last crusaders, and eighteen years later, in 1291, the last remains of Christian power in the East disappeared in its turn. Acre was retaken from the Templars by the Sultan Keladeen. The Holy Sepulchre thenceforth remained in the hands of the infidels.
Prince Edward passed through Italy and paid a visit at Rome to Pope Gregory X., formerly Archdeacon of Liege, a friend of the prince, and while with him received tidings of the death of the king his father. The grief which this loss caused him was so violent that Charles of Anjou was astonished; a throne would readily have consoled him for the death of the weak Henry of Winchester. "You lost two children," he remarked, "without displaying as much grief." "The Lord who gave me my children, can give me others," rejoined Edward; "but who can give me back a father?"
The new king was in no hurry to return to his kingdom. He stayed in Italy to obtain justice for the murder of Henry of Almagne; but Simon of Montfort was already dead, and Guy was subjected only to a term of imprisonment, but contrived to elude his gaolers. Edward then proceeded to France to do homage for Guienne to King Philip the Bold; he at the same time visited his possessions, being apprehensive, no doubt, that some plot might be on foot to deprive him of them. On his return he was challenged to single combat in a tournament by the Count of Châlons. Edward was warned by the Pope that that nobleman sought his life. He was by nature distrustful, and when he saw at Châlons a larger number of knights than he possessed himself, his suspicions were aroused, and the tournament became a battle. The English gained the victory; the Count of Châlons himself was for a moment in danger; Edward compelling him to save his life by surrendering to a mere man-at-arms.
On the 2nd of August, 1274, the King of England at length landed at Dover, and on the 19th of the same month was crowned at Westminster, to the great delight of the people. The nation was proud of its young king, of his reputation for courage and virtue, of his exploits and perils in the Holy Land. His reign commenced under happy auspices. The Jews alone disliked the accession of a prince so renowned for his austere piety and for his zeal against the infidels. Their instinct had not deceived them; Edward was always violently hostile to them, and one of the first acts of his government, on his return from the crusade, was to hang all the Jews who were in possession of sweated coin. More than two hundred of them perished in London alone for this offence, common among both the Jews and the Christians. It was but the beginning of their grievances. Persecuted, plundered, imprisoned, the unlucky Israelites were finally banished from the country in 1290, and all the property which they were obliged to leave behind them was confiscated.
While the king was hanging the Jews, he was also instituting a commission instructed to inquire into the state of landed property in the kingdom, in order to put to a test the title-deeds of the Christians. When proofs were wanting the king exacted a fine before granting fresh letters patent; but this useful device was not always practicable. When Earl Warren was called upon to produce his documents, he drew his sword. "That is the title by which I hold my lands," he said, "and that will suffice me to defend them. Our fathers who came over with William the Bastard acquired the land with their good lances; he did not conquer the country unassisted; he was supported by others, and his supporters shared the spoil with him." The earl's title deeds were deemed sufficient.
The prosperity of England was great at this time; several years of rest had allowed its commerce to develope itself. The king respected the charters in all important particulars; his zealous judicial administration had diminished the number of robbers who infested the highways, and secured the integrity of the magistrates; and in consequence he was popular among his subjects. But this peaceful glory did not suffice for Edward I. As ambitious as his ancestors, he had a desire to make conquests in other quarters. Instead of looking with an envious eye on the Continent, he had conceived the project of subjecting the whole of Great Britain to his dominion. Scotland was far off, and he could find no pretext for declaring war in that direction. Wales had never recognized anything but a partial authority of the kings of England, and the reigning prince, Llewellyn, had neglected to do homage to Edward I. on his accession to the throne. It was in this direction then that the king turned his attention. He advanced towards the frontiers of Wales towards the end of the year 1276. All attempts at negotiation failed, and Llewellyn was declared a rebel in that part of the year when the snow was beginning to cover the mountains. The war could not possibly begin for several months.