The Life and Reign of Edward I.

by Robert Benton Seeley

Still, wherever men are free, differences of opinion on all conceivable questions will show themselves, and we find from the records of the time that the earls of Norfolk and Hereford did not heartily concur with the king’s views; and, as we have said, Edward had always conducted his affairs in such a frank and open manner, as to give full play to the expression of all such differences of opinion. Whenever any great public question required solution, his first step always was to summon a parliament; and when the dissentient party had thrown all possible obstructions in the way, we next hear of the king’s writing to the earl of Hereford or the earl of Norfolk, to invite him to a private interview, that they may freely discuss the matter in hand.

In the present instance Edward resolved to meet his parliament, for the final decision of all questions concerning the war, at Salisbury, on the 25th of February. Meanwhile, however, pressed by the demands of his allies and the requirements of his own armaments, he laid new and heavy imposts upon wool, and called upon the sheriffs of all the counties to provide for him each a certain quota of wheat, etc.[78] We do not suppose that there was anything in these measures which materially differed from the practice of modern wars, but it is evident that such claims and demands would often occasion inconvenience and excite displeasure. The great men of the realm, as well as the merchants and farmers, would feel these requisitions, and some of them, doubtless, brought their irritated feelings into the discussions in parliament.

The king’s justification, however, was doubtless rested on the old adage that “necessity knows no law,”—a rule which often decides many hard questions in time of war. Shall a general defending a city be compelled by famine to surrender it, if he knows that one of the citizens has a great store of corn? No, he will seize upon that corn, if necessary by the extremest force, rather than lose the city which he is ordered to defend; but he will take care that the citizen shall be paid the value of his property at the earliest possible moment. Such seems to have been Edward’s rule of conduct at this very difficult crisis.

The earl of Norfolk was the high marshal, and the earl of Hereford the high constable of England. Edward, purposing himself to go into Flanders, wished to commit the charge of a distinct force for Gascony to these two earls; but they objected to undertake this charge, alleging that their offices only bound them to attend the king’s person in his wars. Chafed at this backwardness, the king, always excitable, grew angry, and is reported to have said that they should either go or hang. To which Norfolk rejoined that “he would neither go nor hang.”[79] The constable and marshal after this withdrew, followed by a large body of knights, their retainers.

We know not much of the other proceedings of that parliament. The king was evidently in a position of great difficulty. Opposed by a large body of the clergy, and now opposed also by two of the greatest earls in the realm, he had still the war with France on his hands, and from it he could not in honour withdraw. Surely we might rather expect the sympathies of Englishmen to be with the king, in this critical juncture, than with the two dissentient earls. Edward, in resisting the wrong done to him by Philip, was merely discharging a plain duty. How, then, can it be deemed “patriotism” in these two great nobles to desert their sovereign in this emergency, and even to throw obstacles in his path?

It seems tolerably clear that the discussions at Salisbury were prolonged, and that the secession of Hereford and Norfolk obliged the king to abandon his purpose of sending a fresh expedition to the relief of Gascony. The 7th of March found the king still at Salisbury, and on that day Winchelsey paid him a visit in that city. It was so much the king’s habit to have his opponents “face to face,” that it seems most probable that the archbishop waited on him there at his own desire.

The king, when the archbishop arrived, was attending the service in the cathedral. When this was over, Winchelsey had a private audience, the king desiring him to say freely what he would. The archbishop spoke at some length, and was heard patiently and without any interruption. The king, in reply, told him that “if the pope himself had any temporal possessions in the realm of England, he believed that he, the king, might lawfully take of them for the defence of his realm and of the church of England.” He added that “this was a cause in which he could dare to die; since he felt that he was doing nothing unlawful, but was obeying a dire necessity which lay upon him and the kingdom.” Surely in the frankness, the wisdom, and the calm resolution of the king, there is nothing wanting of the characteristics of true nobleness of mind.

No actual reconciliation then took place—the primate being unwilling to abandon his ground, and the king being resolved never to relinquish his; but Winchelsey promised to send messengers of his own to the pope, and the king at his request promised to show leniency to those of the clergy who had committed themselves on the papal side. On the 25th of March a synod was held at St. Paul’s, in which no positive resolution was adopted, but the archbishop and those bishops who acted with him agreed to connive at those of the clergy who should make their peace with the king, though in doing so they disobeyed the pope; and Edward, in April, began to show mercy to those of the recusant clergy who had published the bull in defiance of his orders, and who had been imprisoned for that offence. In May and June he was occupied in assembling his troops, and in providing a sufficient naval force. On the 8th of July, the military tenants of the crown were summoned to meet in London to do their accustomed suit and service. The high constable and marshal attended; but as they had objected at Salisbury to go to Gascony, because the king did not propose to accompany that expedition, so now they objected to go with the king to Flanders, because, as they said, they could not find that any of their ancestors had ever performed any service in that country.

The absurdity of this plea was self‐evident; it assumed that the king must not make war in any country except those in which his ancestors had made war. Evidently these two earls had no stomach for the war on any terms. Doubtless they were at liberty to form their own opinion of its expediency or inexpediency, and to a certain extent to act upon it; but it is impossible to estimate very highly the patriotism of two great nobles, who, when such a captain as Edward was embarked in a national contest, could leave him to fight it out without their aid. Still so it was; they begged the king to appoint other officers in their room. Edward, therefore, named Thomas de Berkeley as substitute for the earl of Hereford, and Geoffrey de Geneville for the earl of Norfolk. In thus tolerating the conduct of these two earls, the king showed that self‐control and practical wisdom which distinguished him through life; but he was about to go much further. He was on the point of quitting home to open a war, the length and the difficulties of which he could not foresee. He desired, therefore, to leave England, as far as possible, an united and peaceful kingdom during his absence. With this view, having broken up the ecclesiastical confederacy, he announced to Winchelsey and his followers an amnesty for the past, with a pardon for all who were suffering any penalties for their recusancy; and to make his desire for peace and harmony as manifest as possible, he convened a large assembly in or at the entrance of Westminster Hall. Here, on the 14th of July, the king presented himself on a raised platform, accompanied by his son, then in his fourteenth year, the archbishop, the earl of Warwick, and other lords. He then addressed the assembly, first alluding to the burdens which, in the preparation of his armament, he had been obliged to lay upon them. “He owned that these burdens were heavy, but declared that it had been as painful for him to impose those burdens as it must have been for them to bear them. He had taken a part in order to secure the remainder. His sole object was to protect the country from its enemies, and from those who sought its ruin.” “And now,” he added, “I am going once more to face the dangers of war for England’s sake. If I return, receive me again as you have received me to‐day, and I will make you full amends. If not, here is my son; place him on my throne, and his gratitude will reward your fidelity.” Edward could not conclude without visible emotion; the archbishop was equally affected; and the whole assembly, with outstretched hands, vowed unshaken fidelity.[80]