Already, however, dissensions were springing up. Earl Simon’s sons, who did very little credit to his instructions, and on whom perhaps some of the blame may rest of which otherwise it is impossible to acquit their father, managed to offend the Earl of Gloucester. They challenged the Clares to a tournament at Dunstable. When they were ready and already angry and prepared to turn the festive meeting into a battle, it was suddenly stopped by the king or by Earl Simon, acting in his name. Gloucester and his kinsmen deemed themselves insulted, and immediately began to negotiate with the Mortimers; and, when hostilities were just beginning, Edward escaped from his honorable keeping at Hereford and joined the party.
Battle of Evesham.
Death
of Earl Simon.
From this point action is rapid. Simon, with the king in his train, marched into the West, and advanced into South Wales. Edward and Gloucester, joined by Mortimer, mustered their adherents in the Cheshire and Shropshire country, and then rushed down by way of Worcester on the town of Gloucester, which surrendered on June, 29, thus cutting off the earl’s return to England. The younger Simon de Montfort, the earl’s second son, was summoned to his father’s aid, came up from Pevensey, which he was besieging, plundered Winchester, and took up his position at Kenilworth. His father meantime had got back to Hereford and formed a plan for surrounding Edward. Edward, however, had now learned vigilance and caution. He took the initiative, succeeded in routing the young Simon and nearly capturing Kenilworth, and thus turned the tables on the earl. Simon marched on to Evesham, expecting to meet his son; instead of his son he met his nephew; and on August 4, the battle fought there reversed the judgment of Lewes. There the great earl fell, and with him Hugh le Despenser, the baron’s justiciar, fighting bravely, but without much hope.
Dictum de
Kenilworth.
Death of
Henry III.
The interest of the reign, and indeed its importance, ends here. Simon is the hero of the latter part of it, and the death of Simon closes it, although the king reigns for seven years longer. The war does not end here: the remnant of the baronial party held out at Kenilworth until October, 1266. There the last supporters of Earl Simon, the men whose attitude towards Henry was unpardonable, had made their stand. The final agreement which was drawn up at the siege, and which is called the Dictum de Kenilworth, was intended to settle all differences, and for the most part it did so, by allowing those who had incurred the penalty of forfeiture to redeem their possessions by fines. But until the end of 1267 there were constant outbreaks. The Isle of Ely was made the refuge of one set, just as it had been two hundred years before, in the time of the Conqueror. The Earl of Gloucester raised the banner of revolt, declaring that the king was dealing too hardly with the victims, and the Londoners were very loth indeed to lose the power and advantages which they had secured by their alliance with Simon. But gradually all the storm subsided. In the parliament of Marlborough, in November, 1267, the King renewed the Provisions of Westminster of 1259, by which the most valuable legal reforms of the constitutional party became embodied in statutes. In 1268 the papal legate held a council for the permanent maintenance of peace, and Edward, with many of the leading nobles, took the Cross. In 1270, they went on Crusade, and the Londoners were restored to favor. In December, 1271 the King of the Romans died, broken-hearted at the loss of his son Henry, who was murdered by the Montforts at Viterbo. In 1272, on November 16, Henry III., died; and so completely was the kingdom then at peace, that Edward, although far away from England, was at once proclaimed king, and oaths of fealty were taken to him in his absence.
The struggle
continued.
The long struggle had not yet come to an end: more than twenty years were yet to elapse before Edward I. recognized the fundamental justice of the claims of his subjects, and admitted all the estates to that full and equal share in the action of the country which lies at the basis of our national constitution. We may perhaps ask whether Simon de Montfort deserves that character of a hero, the hero of mediæval history, which is commonly attributed to him. We can only attempt to realize the motives that swayed him. There is no doubt that he was a great man, a much greater man as he was a much better and wiser man than Henry, and perhaps better, certainly wiser and greater, than such men as Gloucester. But that he was absolutely a patriot, or absolutely wise and good, it is needless to affirm and impossible to prove; nor is it necessary that in attempting to estimate his personal eminence we are to look at him through the medium of his political glories. There is no question that the objects which were aimed at by the baronial policy were necessary, and the attainment of them, when they were attained, was beneficial. It is possible, though not probable, that had Simon never existed those objects would never have been attained; also it is quite possible that if he had not forced on rebellion the objects might have been attained long before they were. That we cannot decide. But there are three points to be considered. Were the aims of the barons beneficial? Was Simon a great and good man? Were all the motives of his party and the means taken to realize them good and justifiable? To the first two questions unhesitatingly we may answer, yes. The barons wanted only what was fair. Simon de Montfort was a great and good man. The third question is not so easy. It is better to allow that there were mixed motives and unjustifiable expedients. Simon was not successful as an administrator, he could not maintain peace even when he had the whole kingdom at his feet. His expedient for governing was fanciful and cumbrous. His own conduct in his elevation was not quite free from the charge of rapacity. He stands out best and most grandly in comparison with the meanness with which he was surrounded—the paltry, faithless king, the selfish and unscrupulous baronage. He is relatively great; but he is not perfect. He is scarcely a patriot—a foreigner could hardly be expected to be so. He is somewhat more distinctly a hero, but he never quite rids himself of the character of the adventurer.
CHAPTER X.
EDWARD I.