Complete Novels of E Nesbit

by Edith Nesbit

  HENRY THE THIRD

  a.d. 1216.

  HENRY THE THIRD was crowned at Gloucester when he was only nine years old. You remember that King John’s crown had been lost in the Wash with his other treasures, so they crowned Henry with a gold bracelet of his mother’s. The lords who attended the coronation banquet wore white ribbons round their heads as a sign of their homage to the innocent, helpless child. They made him swear to do as his father had promised in the great charter sealed at Runnymede; and the Earl of Pembroke was appointed to govern the kingdom till Henry grew up.

  Henry grew up unlike his cruel father. He was gentle, tenderhearted, fond of romance, music and poetry, sculpture, painting and architecture. Some of the most beautiful churches we have were built in his reign. But, though he had so many good qualities, he had no bravery, no energy and perseverance. He was fond of pleasure and of the beautiful things of this world, and cared too little for the beautiful things of the soul. He was fond of gaiety, and his young queen was of the same disposition. She was one of four sisters. Two of these sisters married kings and two married counts, and the kings’ wives were so proud of being queens that they used to make their sisters, the countesses, sit on little low stools while they themselves sat on handsome high chairs.

  Henry’s time passed in feasts and songs and dancing. Romances and curious old Breton ballads were translated into English, and recited at the Court with all sorts of tales of love and battle and chivalry.

  The object of chivalry was to encourage men in noble and manly exercises, and to teach them to succour the oppressed, to uphold the dignity of women, and to help the Christian faith. And chivalry was made attractive by all sorts of gay and pretty devices. Knights used to wear in their helmets a ribbon or a glove that some lady had given them, and it was supposed that, while they had the precious gift of a good lady in their possession, they would do nothing base or disloyal that should dishonour the gift they carried.

  Each young noble at twelve years old was placed as page in some other noble household. There, for two years, he learned riding and fencing, and the use of arms. When the lord killed a deer the pages skinned it and carried it home. At a feast the pages carried in the chief dishes and poured the wine for their lords to drink. They helped the ladies of the house in many ways, and carried their trains on state occasions.

  At fourteen a page became a squire. He helped his lord to put on his armour, carried his shield to battle, cleaned and polished his lord’s armour and sharpened his sword, and he was allowed to wear silver spurs instead of iron ones, such as the common people wore.

  When he was considered worthy to become a knight he went through a ceremony which dedicated him to the service of God.

  The day before he was to become a knight the young man stripped and bathed. Then he put on a white tunic — the white as a promise of purity; a red robe — the red meant the blood he was to shed in fighting for the right; and he put on a black doublet (which is a sort of jacket), and this was black in token of death, of which a knight was never to be afraid. Then he went into the church, and there he spent the night in prayer. He heard the priests singing their chant in the darkness of the big church, and he thought of his sins, and steadfastly purposed to lead a new life. In the morning he confessed his sins, walked up to the altar, laid down his belt and sword, and then knelt at the foot of the altar steps. He received the Holy Communion, and then the lord who was to make him a knight gave him the accolade — three strokes on the back of the bare neck with the flat side of the sword — and said:

  “In the name of Saint George I make thee a knight,” — and bade him take back his sword—”in the name of God and Saint George, and use it like a true knight as a terror and punishment for evil-doers, and a defence for widows and orphans, and the poor, and the oppressed, and the priests — the servants of God.”

  The priests and the ladies came round him and put on his gilt spurs, and his coat of mail, and his breastplate, and armpieces, and gauntlets, and took the sword and girded it on him. Then the young man swore to be faithful to God, the King, and woman; his squire brought him his helmet, and his horse’s shoes rang on the church pavement and under the tall arches as his squire led the charger up the aisle. In the presence of priests, and knights, and ladies assembled, the young knight sprang upon his horse and caracoled before the altar, brandishing his lance and his sword. And then away to do the good work he was sworn to.

  Many, of course, forgot their promises and broke their vows, but in those wild times many a rough man was made gentle, many a cruel man less cruel, and many a faint-hearted one made bold by the noble thoughts from which the idea of chivalry sprang.

  Now, you know, England is governed by the Queen and Parliament. But in those old days England was ruled by the King and by such nobles as had money and strength enough to be able to rule by force. These nobles were indeed a terror to the people. They lived in strong, stoutly-built castles, with a great moat or ditch round them, and having always many retainers and armed servants, they were often able to resist the King himself. It was the growing power and riches of the King which they most dreaded, for he only could do them harm. It was then for their own sakes — to guard their own persons, to protect their own property against the King — rather than from any desire to help the people, that the barons resisted first John and then Henry.

  But among them was a noble, unselfish man, who loved his fellow countrymen, and who saw, that to make people rich, and happy, and prosperous, they must be allowed to share in the government of the country in which they live. This noble Englishman, Simon de Montfort, was called the great Earl, and it was he who headed the resistance to Henry the Third, when that King tried to escape from keeping the promises contained in the Great Charter which he had bound himself to obey.

  The resistance grew so strong that at last there was war in England. At the Battle of Lewes, Simon de Montfort defeated Henry and took him prisoner, and with him was his son, Prince Edward. Then at last a Parliament was called. Two knights were sent to it from each county, and from every town two citizens. It was chiefly to get these towns represented in Parliament that the great Earl opposed the King.

  Prince Edward was very anxious to escape and fight another battle for his father. So he pretended to be very ill. When he got better he asked his gaolers to let him go out riding for the benefit of his health. They agreed, but of course, they sent a guard of soldiers out with him to see that he did not escape. Prince Edward rode out for several days with them and never even tried to get away. But one day he begged them to ride races with each other, while he looked on. They did so, and when their horses were quite tired, he shouted, “I have long enough enjoyed the pleasure of your company, gentlemen, and I bid you good-day,” put spurs to his horse, and was soon out of their reach. His friend, the Earl of Gloucester, joined him, and they soon raised an army and defeated the great Earl at Evesham.

  A.D. 1265.

  “Let us commend our souls to God,” said Simon, as Prince Edward and his men came down upon him and the little band of knights who stood by his side. One by one the knights fell, till Simon only was left. He hacked his way through his foes, and had nearly escaped when his horse was brought to the ground, and a death wound was given him from behind. “It is God’s grace,” he said, and died. But though the leader died, the work was done, and a Parliament established in England.

  Some of the priests in England had grown very wicked and greedy. They neglected their duties and thought only of feasting and making themselves comfortable. But some good monks came over from Rome, and determined to try to show the English priests what a Christian’s duty was. They made a vow to be poor, and to deny themselves everything, except just enough food to keep body and soul together. They would not even have books at first, but spent all the money they could collect on the poor. They nursed the sick and helped the unfortunate. They would not wear pretty clothes or beautiful vestments, but were dressed in plain grey or black serge, with a rope round the wai
st, and bare feet. Although they were foreigners and could speak but little English, they encouraged people to write in the English language instead of in Latin or French.

  It was a favourite dream of the early English and French kings to take Jerusalem and the Holy Land from the hands of the Saracens, and to let Christians be the guardians of the place where Christ lived and died. To do this they were constantly making war on the Saracens, and these wars were called Crusades, and the knights who went to them Crusaders. Crusaders carried a red cross on their banners and on their shields. The Saracens’ banners and shields had a crescent like a new moon. For two hundred years this fighting went on, and the last of our English princes to take part in it was Prince Edward. He had only three hundred knights with him, and was not able to attack Jerusalem, because he could not get together more than seven thousand men. His knights went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, but he stayed in his camp at Acre. One day a messenger came into his tent with letters, and while he was reading them the wicked messenger stabbed him. He had been sent to do so by the Saracens, because they were afraid of this brave prince. The prince caught the blow on his arm, and kicked the messenger to the ground, but the man rose and rushed at him again with the knife. The dagger just grazed the prince’s forehead, and seizing a wooden footstool Prince Edward dashed out the messenger’s brains. His wife, the Princess Eleanor, was afraid the dagger was poisoned. So she sucked the blood from his wound with her own lips, and so most likely saved his life. But he was very ill in spite of this, and England nearly lost one of her best and bravest princes.

  a.d. 1272.

  As soon as he was well enough to travel, he set out for England, and on the way he was met with the sad news that his father and two of his children were dead. So he became King of England, and he was the father of the first Prince of Wales.

  THE FIRST PRINCE OF WALES

  THERE were Welsh princes long before there were English kings, and the Welsh princes could not bear to be subject to the kings of England. So they were always fighting to get back their independence. But the English kings could not let them be free as they wished, because England could never have been safe with an independent kingdom so close to her. So there were constant wars between the two countries, and sometimes the fortune of battle went one way and sometimes the other.

  But at last the Welsh Prince Llewellyn was killed. He had gone to the south of Wales to cheer up his subjects there, and he had crossed the river Wye into England, when a small band of English knights came up. A young knight named Adam Frankton met with a Welsh chief as he came out of a barn to join the Welsh army. Frankton at once attacked him, and after a struggle, wounded the Welsh chief to death. Then he rode on to battle, and when he came back he tried to find out what had become of the Welshman. He heard that he was already dead, and then they found that the dead man was the great Welsh Prince Llewellyn. His head was taken off and sent to London, where it was placed on the battlements of the Tower and crowned, in scorn, with ivy. This was because an old Welsh magician, years before, had said that when English money became round, the Welsh princes should be crowned in London. And money had become round in this way: —

  Before this there were silver pennies, and when anyone wanted a half-penny, he chopped the silver penny in two, and if he wanted a farthing he chopped the silver penny in four, so that money was all sorts of queer shapes. But Edward the First had caused round copper half-pennies and farthings to be made, and when the Welsh prince had heard of this he had believed that the old magician’s words were coming true, and that he should defeat Edward and become king of England himself. Instead of this, the poor man’s head was cut off, and, in mockery of his hopes and dreams, they crowned the poor dead head with the wreath of ivy.

  Now the Welsh wanted another prince, and King Edward said: “If you will submit to me and not fight any more, you shall have a prince who was born in Wales, can speak never a word of English, and never did wrong to man, woman, or child.” The Welsh people agreed that if they could have such a prince as that, they would be contented and quiet, and give up fighting. And so one day the leaders of the Welsh met King Edward at his castle in Caernarvon and asked for the Prince he had promised them, and he came out of his castle with his little son, who had only been born a week before, in his arms.

  “Here is your Prince,” he said, holding up the little baby. “He was born in Wales, he cannot speak a word of English, and he has never done harm to man, woman or child.”

  Instead of being angry at the trick the king had played them, the Welsh people were very pleased. Welsh nurses took care of the baby, so that he really did learn to speak in Welsh before he could speak in English. And the Welsh were so pleased with their baby king that from that time Edward the First had no more trouble with them.

  There are many stories told of this prince’s boldness as a child. He promised them to grow up as brave as his father, and it would have been better for him if he had done so. He was always very fond of hunting, and once when he was quite young, he and his servants were hunting the deer. His servants lost the trace of the deer, and presently, when they reined up their horses, they found that the young prince was no longer with them. They looked everywhere for him, very frightened lest he should have fallen into the hands of robbers; and at last they heard a horn blown in the forest. They followed the sound of it and presently found that the young prince had seen which way the deer went, and had followed it and killed it all by himself.

  Now King Edward the First had great trouble with his Scotch nobles, and many were the battles he fought with them, until at last he forced the Scottish king Balliol to declare himself his vassal, and he became the over-lord of Scotland. But there arose a brave Scot named William Wallace, who longed to see his country free from England, and he drove the English back, and again and again he beat them.

  But in a few years Edward got together another army, and leading them into Scotland he beat the Scots and took Wallace prisoner. Wallace was tried and found guilty of treason, and when he had been beheaded, they crowned his head with laurel and placed it on London Bridge, for all the passers-by, by road or river, to see.

  a.d. 1305.

  Then two men claimed the Scottish crown, Robert Bruce and John, who was called the Red Comyn. They were jealous of each other, and Bruce thought that Comyn had betrayed him. They met in a church to have an explanation.

  “You are a traitor,” said Bruce.

  “You lie,” said Comyn.

  And Bruce in a fury struck at him with his dagger, and then, filled with horror, rushed from the church. “To horse, to horse,” he cried. One of his attendants, named Kirkpatrick, asked him what was the matter.

  “I doubt,” said Bruce, “that I have slain the Red Comyn.”

  “You doubt!” said Kirkpatrick. “I will make sure.”

  So saying, he hurried back into the church and killed the wounded man.

  And now the task of defending Scotland against Edward was left to Robert Bruce. King Edward was so angry when he heard of this murder, that at the feast, when his son was made a knight, he swore over the swan, which was the chief dish and which was the emblem of truth and constancy, that he would never rest two nights in the same place till he had chastised the Scots. And for some time the Scots and English were at bitter war, and when King Edward died, he made his son promise to go on fighting.

  a.d. 1307.

  But Edward the Second was not a man like his father. He was more like his grandfather Henry the Third, caring for pretty colours and pretty things, rich clothes, rich feasts, rich jewels, and surrounding himself with worthless favourites. Robert Bruce said he was more afraid of the dead bones of Edward the First than of the living body of Edward of Caernarvon, and that it was easier to win a kingdom from his son than a foot of land from the father. Gradually the castles the English had taken in Scotland were won back from them. For twenty years the English had held the Castle of Edinburgh, and at the end of that time, Randolph, a Scottish noble, came to besiege
it.

  The siege was long, and the brave English showed no signs of giving in. Randolph was told that it was possible to climb up the south face of the rock on which the castle stood, and steep as the rock was, Randolph and some others began to climb it one dark night. When they were part of the way up, and close to the wall of the castle, they heard a soldier above them cry out—”Away, I see you,” and down came stone after stone. Had many more been thrown Randolph and his companions must have been dashed to the ground and killed, for it was only on a very narrow ledge that they had found a footing. But the soldier was only in joke, trying to frighten his fellows. He had not really seen them at all, and he passed on. When all was quiet again, the daring Scots climbed up till they reached the top of the wall, and when they had fixed a rope ladder the rest of their men came up. Then they fell upon the men of the garrison and killed them, and the castle was taken by the Scots.

  a.d. 1314.

  But a greater loss awaited the English. Edward led an English army to battle in Scotland; and at Bannockburn they met the force of the Scots king. They fought till the field was slippery with blood, and covered with broken armour and lances and arrows. Then at the last, as the English began to waver, Bruce charged down on them with more soldiers and utterly routed them. Edward with difficulty saved his life, and throughout England there were bitter lamentings at the loss and shame the country had suffered. Scotland was free from the English yoke, and of all the great conquests the first Edward had won, only Berwick-on-Tweed remained to the English.