The king that tries without advice to seek his people’s will,
Must often fail, he cannot know the woes and wants they feel,
gets re-expression in the nineteenth century in Abraham Lincoln’s: “Government of the people, by the people, for the people.” Always threatened by the personal ambition of man, often overthrown when ambition held the sword of power, contemptible to the wise and prudent because of the simplicity and innocence of “the people,” denounced as dangerous by the professional expert in bureaucracy because of the ignorance of “the people,” its inadequacy the common theme of the disappointed—representative government survives its enemies, defies its critics, and with its blemishes unconcealed, finds the company of its lovers ever increasing and recruiting in its behalf. For since that first Full Parliament of Earl Simon’s in 1265 it has never been possible to get rid of the notion that representative government was a key to the portals of freedom; and though the wider the freedom the greater the responsibility, to the credit of the race at all times men and women have pressed forward, not rejecting responsibility.
Simon’s parliament sat from January to March. Its chief business was the confirmation of the treaty of peace at Lewes, and Henry swore as usual to maintain the new constitution, the charters and provisions. The government was short-lived. Danger from France, where the queen and Archbishop Boniface of Canterbury and all Henry’s alien courtiers planned invasion with an army collected in Holland, had passed away at the close of the previous summer. There had been a great muster of troops for national defence near Dover, bad weather had incapacitated the queen’s fleet, and Louis of France agreed to negotiations in place of war. The Cinque Ports mariners refused a landing to the pope’s legate, who was ready to excommunicate the new government, and flung his papal bull in the sea.[51]
Not from abroad but from within came the foes who overthrew Simon’s government and murdered the great statesman. Earl Gilbert, of Gloucester, like his father, grew jealous of Simon’s leadership, and disputed his authority as to the ransom of some of the prisoners of Lewes, and Simon’s sons added fuel to the flame by their pride and overbearing insolence. Roger Mortimer and some of the nobles of the Welsh marches rose for King Henry in the spring of 1265, and Gilbert deserted the barons for the king.[52] William of Valence landed in South Wales with a body of crossbowmen in May, and when Simon reached Hereford to put down the rebellion, Prince Edward, who, with the king, had been in Simon’s custody, made his escape to Mortimer and the marches.
Edward quickly raised troops, and joined Gilbert at Ludlow, where he took an oath to obey the laws and charters of the realm. Simon, in some danger of being cut off by this movement on his rear, sent word to his second son—Simon—to go to Kenilworth and join him at Evesham, and then turned back from Wales.
The younger Simon was surprised at Kenilworth by a sudden raid by Edward. His camp was broken up, his banners taken, and he was driven back into the castle. Edward, fully aware that Earl Simon had only a small force with him, hurried off to Evesham to attack him, before young Simon could rally his scattered troops and come to his father’s help.
On the morning of August 4th Earl Simon halted at Evesham, and at the king’s request, for Henry was still his captive, heard mass and dined. His son’s army, now on its way, halted for the same purpose at Alcester. “He was now only ten miles distant and the junction of father and son seemed secure.”[53] But Prince Edward was already between them. “As the morning broke his army lay across the road that led northward from Evesham to Alcester. Ere three hours had passed the corpse of the great earl lay mangled amid a ring of faithful knights, and the ‘murder of Evesham, for battle none it was,’ was over.”
At first Simon thought the advancing army was his son’s, for Edward displayed the captured banners of Kenilworth, but when he saw the standards of the prince and of Gloucester, and the well-known banner of Mortimer, the truth was clear.
“By the arm of St. James,” cried the earl, “they come on skilfully, for they have turned my lessons against me. God have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are theirs! Though if Simon were to come up we might hope yet.” He turned to his eldest son, and pointing to the banner of Gloucester said, “See, Henry, what your pride has done.”