Stephen’s
death 1154.
And England was ready for him. The bishops were watching for their time. The young Eustace was offending and oppressing. The king had now thrown the great house of Leicester as well as the prelates into determined opposition. The cessation of justice and the prevalence of private war made every one long for any change that would bring rest. In 1152 the bishops, acting under instructions from Rome, finally refused to sanction the coronation of Eustace, and Stephen, having again tried force, was compelled to acquiesce. But he saw the end approaching. In January 1153 Henry of Anjou landed. His friends gathered round him, Stephen and Eustace collected their mercenaries. At Malmesbury, and again at Wallingford, the two armies stood face to face, but the great barons refused to abide by the decision of arms; on both occasions they mediated, and the armies separated without a blow. Just after the second meeting Eustace died, and Stephen whose health was failing, who had lost his noble-hearted wife in 1152, and whose surviving children were too young to be exposed to the chances or risks of a disputed succession, could only give way. The negotiations, begun at Wallingford, were carried on and completed by a treaty at Westminster, concluded in November, in which Stephen recognised Henry as his heir, and Henry guaranteed the rights of Stephen’s children to the inheritance of their parents. At the same time a scheme of reform, which was to replace the administrative system of Henry I., on its basis, was determined on, the details of which form a clue to the early policy of the reign of Henry II. Henry left England some three months after the conclusion of the peace. His life, it was said, was not safe, and the pressure which he had to put upon Stephen to induce him to carry out the reforms was only too likely to result in the renewal of war. He went away about Easter 1154. Stephen blundered on for six months and then died; not of a broken heart, perhaps, as the kings of history generally die, but certainly a disappointed man.
Estimate of
Stephen’s character.
The reign of Stephen was, it may be fairly said, the period at which all the evils of feudalism came in England into full bearing, previous to being cut off and abolished forever under his great successor. The reign exemplifies to us what the whole century that followed the Conquest must have been if there had not been strong kings like William I., and Henry I., sturdily to repress all the disintegrating designs of their barons and to protect the people. The personal character of Stephen needs no comment. He was brave. He was at least so far gentle that none of the atrocious cruelties alleged against his predecessors are attributed to him. He was false, partly no doubt under the pressure of circumstances, which he could not control, but in which he had involved himself by his first betrayal of faith. What may be the legal force of his election by the nation we need not ask: it was the breach of his oath that condemned him. No man trusted him; and as he trusted no one, knowing that he did not deserve trust, and that those who had betrayed their oath to his uncle would not hesitate to betray their oaths to him, he expected no one to trust him. He was not great, either for good or for evil, in himself. If he had had more wisdom he might have shown more honesty; certainly if he had been more honest he would have gained more credit for wisdom. Had he been either a more unscrupulous knave or a more honest man he would certainly have been far more successful.
CHAPTER III.
THE EARLY YEARS OF HENRY II.
Terms of Henry’s accession—His character—His early reforms—His relations with France—War of Toulouse—Summary of nine years’ work.
Importance
attached by
contemporaries
to Henry’s
accession.
Very few epochs of history are more clearly marked than the accession of Henry II. Most great eras are determined, and their real importance ascertained, long after the event; the famous Parliament of Simon de Montfort, in 1265, for instance, is scarcely named by the contemporary historians, and only rises into importance as later history unfolds its real bearings. But the succession of Henry is hailed by the writers of his time as a dawn of hope, a certain omen of restoration and refreshing. Often and often, it is true, such omens are discerned on the accession of a new king; men hasten to salute the rising sun; good wishes to the new sovereign take the form of prophecy, and, where they are fulfilled, partly help on their own fulfilment. Here, however, we have omens that were amply fulfilled, and an epoch which those who lived in it were the first to recognise. The fact proves how weary England was of Stephen’s incompetency, how thoroughly she had learned the miserable consequences of a feudal system of society unchecked by strong government, how readily she welcomed the young and inexperienced but strong and, in the main, honest rule of Henry.
