Runnymede and Lincoln Fair: A Story of the Great Charter

by John G. Edgar

  CHAPTER XXXVI

  END OF KING JOHN

  It was not without good reason that John, on hearing that Louis hadlanded at Sandwich, left Dover and shrank from a conflict with theprince who, on the invitation of the Anglo-Norman barons, had crossedthe sea to dethrone him. His army, in truth, was chiefly composed ofFlemings and other vassals of the French crown, who all recognisedPhilip Augustus as their sovereign, and had no idea of fighting againstPhilip’s heir. Many of them immediately deserted to the French prince,captains as well as men; and Falco plainly informed the king that, incase of coming to close quarters with the enemy, not one could be reliedon, save the natives of Guienne and Poictou, who considered themselvesthe natural subjects of the Plantagenets, and still cherished a romanticveneration for the memory of John’s mother, Eleanor of Guienne, as theheiress of the old princes who had led their sires to battle, shouting,“St. George for the puissant duke.”

  With the object of guarding against the worst, John kept moving fromplace to place, till he found himself at Stamford, and then moving fromthat town, he proceeded to Lincoln, which, under Nichola deCamville--that courageous dame--had hitherto held out for the king.

  At Lincoln, however, John did not long remain. In autumn he marched toPeterborough, and entering Croyland about October, burned the farmhousesbelonging to the abbey, the monks of which sided with his foes; and thento the town of Lynn. Owing to the rumours that had created so muchjealousy in the French camp, John’s prospects began to brighten; andhaving rallied many fighting men to his standard, he determined to turnhis face northwards, probably to arrest the progress of the King ofScots, who had just led an army all through England, to Dover, and withthis view left Lynn and marched to Wisbeach, and from Wisbeach to theCross Keys on the south side of the Wash, which he was resolved oncrossing by the sands.

  Now at low water this estuary is passable, but it is exposed to suddenrises of the tide, as John found to his bitter experience. At firsteverything looked secure, and the royal forces had nearly reached theopposite bank, called Fossdyke, when the returning tide began to roar.It seemed that the king and his army were doomed. By making haste,however, they escaped; but the baggage and sumpter-mules were swallowedup in a whirlpool, caused by the impetuosity of the tide and thedescending currents of the river Welland; and John beheld with dismayand despair bordering on distraction the loss of men, horses,sumpter-mules, and baggage, without which he felt it would be almostimpossible to pursue his expedition. It was felt by the unhappy monarchas the severest blow that fortune could have struck at him in hisperplexity; and brooding sullenly over his misfortune, he made forSwinehead, a Cistercian abbey in Lincolnshire.

  It was night when John reached Swinehead, and the abbot and the monksbent their hooded heads, and, perhaps wishing him elsewhere, welcomedhim to their religious house, and had supper served to him in therefectory. Already the king was feverish from the excitement he hadundergone while escaping from the tide and witnessing the loss of hismen and baggage, and he greatly heightened the fever by eatingimmoderately of peaches, and drinking new cider, and by violentdenunciations of the personages to whom he attributed the evils that hadbefallen him. No sleep nor rest did he take that night, but walkedmuttering about the chamber in which he was lodged, the fever gaining onhim. Early next morning, however, he caused his trumpets to sound, andmounted his steed; but the effort to pursue his journey on horsebackproved vain, and he was forced to dismount and submit to be conveyed ina litter to the castle of Sleaford. But still he was impatient toproceed, and from Sleaford he was carried to Newark, where he wasdestined to end all his journeyings on earth. Already it had becomequite evident that he was about to make a journey to another world, andthat he would soon be beyond the reach of the enemies who had vowed hisdestruction.

  Nor did John deceive himself at that dread hour, when his soul and bodywere about to part. Feeling that his end was rapidly approaching, hesent for the Abbot of Croxton, dictated a letter to the Holy See, inwhich he implored the papal protection for his helpless children, andthen confessed his sins.

  It was the night of the 19th of October, 1216, the day after the Feastof St. Luke, when John felt that death had come to claim its prey. Hemoved his head, and raised his hand.

  “I commit my soul to God, and my body to St. Wulstan,” said he,suddenly, and, throwing up his arms, he instantly expired.

  From the circumstance of John having committed his body to St. Wulstan,his corpse was conveyed to the cathedral of Worcester, of which St.Wulstan was patron, and, his head having been wrapped in a monk’s cowl,which in that age was deemed a protection against evil spirits, he waslaid at rest before the high altar.