They could not deny—they did not attempt to deny—his claim to greatness in the lower acceptation of the term. He was “the model of a politic and warlike king,” says Hume. He was “a great statesman and commander,” says Mackintosh. But all the higher qualities of mental and moral excellence were denied to him. Hume speaks of his “barbarous policy,” and declares that “never were the principles of equity violated with less scruple or reserve,” adding that “the iniquity of his claim was apparent, and was aggravated by the most egregious breach of trust.” Dr. Henry speaks of Edward’s “unrelenting selfishness,” of his “cruelty and iniquity,” and, again, of his “injustice and cruelty.” Sir James Mackintosh tells how he had “skilfully inveigled the Scotch into his snares,” adding that “his ambition tainted all his acts,” and that “a conqueror is a perpetual plotter against the safety of all nations.” And Sir Walter Scott speaks of him as “bold and crafty,” “a subtle and unhesitating politician.” Following such leaders as these, it is no wonder that all our school histories, for almost a century past, have taught the youth of England to regard this king as an able and valiant, but withal an unprincipled man.[174]
Such was the position of affairs, a few years back, when a volume made its appearance[175] which challenged the justice of this verdict, and called, with warmth and earnestness, for a reconsideration of the case. It was a hasty production; it had many palpable faults; it was, not unnaturally, charged with “a partisan spirit,” but in its main object it has been entirely successful. It induced many men of literary eminence to take up the question of this great king’s real character. They went to the only source of truth on all such questions—to contemporary testimony. They examined and weighed it, and the result has been, a reversal of the verdict.
Do we speak with too much confidence on this point? Let the reader peruse the following declarations:—
In Trinity Term, in 1864, a meeting was held of “The Oxford Historical Society,”—its president, professor Goldwin Smith, in the chair—for the consideration of the volume aforesaid (“The Greatest of the Plantagenets”). A paper or elaborate criticism, was read by professor Montagu Burrows, on that volume. In it, he said,—
“This work demands our attention, because it is a bold and, on the whole, successful attempt to reclaim for him, who is perhaps the only sovereign of England since the Conquest who has a right to the title of ‘Great,’ that position of which he has been deprived for more than a century,—deprived by a number of causes almost unparalleled for the way in which they have combined towards such a result.”
After a lengthened review of the work, in which professor Burrows spoke of the writer’s “masterly narrative of the facts attending the double conquest of Scotland,” and added, “He has conclusively disposed of the leading Scotch fables, and recovered as much of the truth as we shall probably ever know. The great outlines of the story, which form the groundwork of the Scottish Iliad, have been for the first time thoroughly marked out by the help of every available authority;”—the professor concluded his review in the following manner:—
“This king was called by the writers of the next generation ‘Edward the Good,’ and it has been to our shame as a nation that we have been so careless of a royal reputation, and that so little effort has been made to restore him his rights. If the highest perfection as a soldier, and all but the highest as a general; if patience, fortitude, prudence, mental activity, largeness of mind, public spirit; if a correct private life, a conscientious sense of duty, and a consistent religious character go to make up a great man,—Edward I. is entitled to the name. Place him by the side of those sovereigns who, since the time of Charlemagne and Alfred, have received the title of ‘Great,’ and how insignificant do they appear. Perhaps the time may come when a more enlightened public opinion shall repair this omission. And among those to whom a very considerable share of credit will be due, will be the author of the work we have just been considering.”
The president, Mr. Goldwin Smith, summed up the matter in a few concluding words. These words have weight, as coming from a man who could never have been brought to approve a course of “iniquity,” “selfishness,” “vindictiveness,” “violence,” and “ferocity.” He said that “So far from Edward’s invasion being intended to reduce Scotland to slavery, its object was to introduce the same regular and constitutional quiet which England enjoyed, and to rescue the Scotch from the anarchy resulting from the oppression of the most oppressive of the feudal oligarchies. The kingdom of Scotland was previously in an almost hopeless state of feudal anarchy. One of the first things Edward did was to summon a free Parliament, and he left them with all their independence, and with all their rights as a nation. The short period when he had possession of the kingdom, was the only glimpse they ever had of a lawful, regular, and beneficent government. Wallace was more truly represented, he thought, by the author of ‘The Greatest of all the Plantagenets’ than by professor Burrows.[176] He was an irregular rebel, like the Neapolitan brigands of the present day.”[177]
Mr. Goldwin Smith quitted England, and his successor in the Regius professorship at Oxford was Mr. Stubbs. That gentleman has recently given to the world a volume of much value, “On the Early English Charters.” Having occasion to speak of Edward I., he thus characterizes him:—