Page:Cassell's Illustrated History of England vol 1.djvu/258

244 As we look back for a moment upon the scenes and personages of that remote time, dimly shadowed forth to us by the records of early, or the imagination of late, historians, we view a strange and varied picture, like a grand procession passing before us. Clouds brood over the landscape, but when these are cleared away, the sun shines out upon the many-coloured trees, the green hills, and cultured fields, with here and there a lowly hamlet, lordly tower, or solemn fane.

A gallant company appear upon the scene, with sound of trumpets, gay banners, and glittering armour. There are knights with lance in rest, engaging in the tournament or the battle, each with visor down, and known only by the device upon his shield, which tells his opponent with whom he has to cope—bearing on his helm a bit of coloured stuff cut from the dress of some fair dame to whom he has devoted his sword. The king is there, with jewelled crown and panoply of state, surrounded by all the splendour which the earth could give to minister to mortal pride, the man before whom his fellows are content to bow and offer service. Noble ladies are there, gentle and beautiful, but with a courage and strength uncommon to their sex, induced by a life of danger and adventure. We see them joining in the chase; eagerly looking on at the tournament, where their applause is the prize of the victor; defending the castle of their lord in his absence, or even following him to the wars. Prelates in their mitres and costly robes come next upon the scene—some with the mild and benevolent features befitting the ministers of religion; others bearing rather the gait of princes, proud of their superior knowledge, and conscious of a subtle power before which even kings were made to tremble. In cathedral aisles, whose dim light fitly typified the state of religious knowledge, priests are chanting their prayers to heaven, while in noble halls the minstrels are singing their merry songs of earth.

So the brilliant pageant passes on, and knights and ladies, monks and minstrels, alike vanish from the scene. The sun shines still on field and tower, but the tower is in ruins, and the gay procession has faded away into the twilight of the past.

Other parts of the landscape are more dimly presented to us. Of the struggles and sufferings of the people, their pursuits and their pleasures, we know comparatively little; they occupy the back-ground of the historical picture, and their acts do not as yet possess much influence upon the destinies of the nation. We see life insecure in all parts of the kingdom, and the property of the weak continually at the mercy of the strong. The laws are for the most part inoperative, or used only by the rich as instruments of oppression. The labourer who toils in the fields, or the citizen who hoards his gold, cannot tell who will reap the fruits of his labour; but, amidst the present confusion, both these classes are steadily increasing in influence. Their condition is by no means one of apathy; a sense of their rights is dawning upon them, of which a proof may be found in the enthusiasm created throughout the country by the teachings of Longbeard, and the deeds of Robin Hood.

 

When the news of the death of Richard I. was conveyed to his brother John, he immediately took measures for obtaining possession of the throne. This degenerate son of the house of Plantagenet recovered his courage when he had only a child to oppose his ambitious schemes—for the young Arthur, whom Richard had appointed his heir, was not yet twelve years old. John, who knew well how little popularity he possessed in England, sent to secure the services of the foreign mercenaries who had been in the army of Richard, offering them a greatly increased rate of pay, and promising to their leaders profitable appointments. Being then in Normandy; he dispatched William Mareschall and Hubert Walter, the Archbishop of Canterbury, whose adherence he had obtained, into England, to further his claims, and prepare the way for his coming. Meanwhile, he presented himself before the castle of Chinon, and demanded possession of his brother's treasure, which was there deposited. No opposition was made to him in that neighbourhood, and the Governor of Chinon, as well as those of other strongholds, opened their gates at his bidding. Not so the Lords of Touraine, Anjou, and Maine, who joined the Bretons in supporting the claims of their young prince Arthur, and raised the standard of revolt. John caused himself to be inaugurated at Rouen as Duke of Normandy, and having wreaked his vengeance on the citizens of Mans, for having refused him their allegiance, he crossed the Channel, and landed at Shorehain on the 25th of May, A.D. 1199, six weeks after his brother's death.

When Hubert of Canterbury and William Mareschall arrived in England, they caused proclamation to be made throughout the kingdom, calling upon all the earls, barons, and owners of land to render fealty to John, Duke of Normandy, son of King Henry, son of the Empress Matilda. But the character of John was well known to the English barons, and few of them were disposed to yield to the authority of a tyrant whose cruelty had hitherto been measured only by his power. They retired to their castles and fortified towns, preparing them for defence and laying up stores of provisions. The more turbulent and reckless characters among the people took advantage of the moment when the arm of power was relaxed, and made predatory excursions through the country. Those who had the moans armed themselves in defence of their property, and thus continual conflicts were taking place among different classes of the population, and the land appeared to be rapidly approaching a condition of civil war. Whatever may have been the motives which first induced Hubert to espouse the cause of John, it will scarcely be denied that the archbishop was justified in putting an end to this state of things, by any means in his power. It has been already stated that Hubert Walter was a man of very high abilities, and these he now exerted to the utmost, and with a remarkable success. Having summoned a council of the barons and prelates at Nottingham, he used all his eloquence to overcome the disaffection of the assembly, while to arguments were added 