Refuse, however, they did; and not only so, they withstood and obstructed him in every stage of the controversy. And now, when the troubles in Scotland were not yet over, and the dispute with France was still undecided, the two earls attended every parliament, not to assist their sovereign, but to advance and urge against him new demands.
Hume, and, following him, several other historians, have represented Edward as striving to escape from the obligations of Magna Charta, and the two earls as “patriotically” insisting on its maintenance. Scarcely could misrepresentation be carried further than this.
From the very commencement of his reign, Edward, far from manifesting any desire to withdraw from the provisions of “Magna Charta,” had shown a willingness and a desire to go far beyond it. De Lolme justly remarks of that great document, that “it had only one article calculated for the interest of that body which was the most numerous in the kingdom.” It was, in fact, nothing more than an agreement between the great barons and the crown, for the future regulation of their respective rights and immunities. But Edward’s legislation, from the outset, had taken a far wider range. “The whole commonalty of the realm” was never absent from his thoughts. His statutes were made, and made most freely and voluntarily, “for the common weal, and for the remedy of all that were aggrieved.” In every statute passed in Edward’s reign, the purpose is manifest: not to evade or limit the operation of “Magna Charta,” but to go far beyond it.
What was the drift and meaning, then, of these contentions between the two earls and the king, which extended over three or four years, and which perplexed and harassed Edward during a very difficult period of his reign? It may be described in a very few words. Disliking the war with France in 1297, the earls withdrew themselves from any participation in it. But they wished also to withhold all aid either in money or in stores; and therefore they objected to the “prises and talliages” which the king’s officers had made. They desired “the charters” to be so confirmed and enlarged, as to deprive the king of the power of making “requisitions,” except under the express authority of parliament. Now, this limitation has been, doubtless, one of great value to the people, and for insisting upon it, the earls have been extolled as “patriots.” But if we reflect on the matter for a few moments, we shall see that the concession required of Edward was one which it might well seem difficult for him to make.
“Requisitions” and “forced loans” have been heard of in Europe for centuries after Edward’s time; nor have they quite ceased even to the present hour. Yet in his day, the power of taking what was imperatively needed for war‐purposes was far more necessary than it is now. A nation in the present day, on finding itself involved in war, has recourse to its banks and to its credit, and speedily provides itself with all that it finds needful. And yet, even now, “requisitions” are sometimes heard of. But in the thirteenth century, standing armies, and loans, and national debts were all alike unknown. A king, suddenly deprived, as Edward was, of a noble province, found it necessary to raise and equip and victual an army, as rapidly as possible; and his only resource was, to convene a parliament and to ask an aid, which aid it would require months to collect. Edward, therefore, had been forced to revive and call into exercise certain old rights or prerogatives of the crown, and to “take” what he needed; promising, of course, to pay for all he took, so soon as he should be able. This power the earls now desired to limit, or to abolish; and it cannot be questioned that such a limitation or abolition was a great gain to the people. Edward’s ground for hesitation, doubtless, was twofold. He always wished, and claimed, to leave the crown as potent as he found it. “Saving the rights of the crown of England” is a phrase which we often hear from his lips. And besides this, he might justly fear, lest the sovereigns of England, thus fettered, should be unable, in future years, to meet the aggressions of France as they required to be encountered.
The present Regius professor of Modern History in the University of Oxford has well and forcibly remarked, that “this great monarch was not likely to surrender without a struggle the position which he had inherited. For more than twenty years he reigned as Henry II. had done, showing proper respect for constitutional forms, but exercising the reality of despotic power. He loved his people, and therefore did not oppress them; they knew and loved him, and endured the pressure of taxation, which would not have been imposed if it had not been necessary.” “Until he is compelled by the action of the barons, he retains the substance of royal power: the right to talliage the towns and demesnes of the crown without a grant. Edward would not have been so great a king as he was, if he had not thought this right worth a struggle, nor if, when that struggle was going against him, he had not seen that it was time to yield; nor if, when he had yielded, he had not determined honestly to abide by his concessions.”[103]
There had been no new claim, or any stretch of the royal prerogative. We have already seen, that Mr. Hallam, who greatly praises the two earls, admits that “hitherto the king’s prerogative of levying money by name of ‘talliage’ or ‘prise’ from his towns or tenants in demesne had passed unquestioned.”[104] The king, therefore, had done nothing more than bring into use an old right of the crown, which up to this time had never been disputed.
The two earls, however, disliked the war with France, and they disliked, very naturally, the “prises and talliages”—the requisitions of money, corn, and cattle—to which the king found it necessary to resort. They made these levies a matter of complaint in 1297, presenting to the king a remonstrance or complaint just before his embarkation for Flanders. When called to a parliament in Edward’s absence in the autumn of that year, they again brought forward this grievance of the king’s war requisitions; and in that parliament a new confirmation of the charters was adopted, in which all “prises and talliages” were forbidden, unless levied with the consent of the prelates, barons, knights, and burgesses. And, ever careful of themselves, the two earls added another document, by which the king was to grant a full pardon to them “for all manner of offences which they may have committed.” These two documents were accepted by the king while he was in Flanders, and now, in Lent, 1299, he meets his parliament again in Westminster. Again the earls revive the question of the charters, adding now a further demand for a new survey or “perambulation” of the royal forests.
The king granted the required confirmation of the charters, adding, however, the words, “salvo jure coronæ.” This proviso displeased the earls, and they quitted the parliament in anger. But Edward really wished for peace and unity at home, and, to content them, he held another parliament after Easter, in which he granted the confirmation of the charters unreservedly.
This “reserving the rights of the crown” has been censured by some writers, as if it betokened some equivocation on Edward’s part, but such a device was alien to his whole nature. A more frank or outspoken man is not to be found on any page of history. What he said he always really meant. It had been a ruling principle with him, from the very beginning of his public life, that he would not leave the realm of England, or the crown of England, diminished or lowered through any fault or neglect of his. This principle forced him, “slow as he was to strife,” into a war for the recovery of Gascony. He would not have it said of him in future times that he, by hesitation or want of energy, lost England’s noblest foreign possession. The same resolve had carried him into Wales and into Scotland. In each case he believed himself to be asserting the ancient rights of the crown of England, and through all his legislation the same thought continually appears. His first great statute closes with these words: “And forasmuch as the king hath ordained these things to the honour of God and holy church, and for the common weal, and for the remedy of such as be aggrieved, he would not that at any other time it should turn to the prejudice of himself or his crown, but that such rights as appertain to him should be saved in all points.” So also, when deciding the question of the Scottish succession, he does not forget that he himself is descended from Matilda, daughter of Malcolm Canmore, king of Scotland; and he notices this in his judgment, declaring “that John Baliol ought to have seizin of the kingdom of Scotland, reserving, however, the right of the crown of England, whenever he or his heirs shall see fit to assert it.” So also in the parliament of Lincoln, in 1301, we find him desiring those who attended it to settle the perambulation‐question, “so that their oaths and the oath of the king as to the rights of the crown may be saved.” Thus, at every turn we find him regarding “the rights of the crown” as a sacred trust committed to him, and which he had sworn to defend; and hence, in every concession made to him by the people, he is always ready to use the phrase, “salvo jure coronæ.”