Book: Comic History of England

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Then, seating herself behind the knight, she must escape for days, and
even weeks,--one escape seeming to call for another, as it were. Thus,
however, the expense of a wedding was saved, and the knight with the
biggest chest measurement generally got the heiress with the
copper-colored hair.

[Illustration: CREST OF A POPULAR KNIGHT.]

He wore a crest on his helmet adorned with German favors given him by
lady admirers, so that the crest of a popular young knight often looked
like a slump at the _Bon Marche_.

[Illustration: THE "VIGIL OF ARMS."]

The most peculiar condition required for entry into knighthood was the
"vigil of arms," which consisted in keeping a long silent watch in some
gloomy spot--a haunted one preferred--over the arms he was about to
assume. The illustration representing this subject is without doubt one
of the best of the kind extant, and even in the present age of the
gold-cure is suggestive of a night-errant of to-day.

A tournament was a sort of refined equestrian prize-fight with
one-hundred-ounce jabbers. Each knight, clad in tin-foil and armed
cap-a-pie, riding in each other's direction just as fast as possible
with an uncontrollable desire to push one's adversary off his horse,
which meant defeat, because no man could ever climb a horse in full
armor without a feudal derrick to assist him.

[Illustration: A JUDICIAL COMBAT.]

The victor was entitled to the horse and armor of the vanquished, which
made the castle paddock of a successful knight resemble the convalescent
ward of the Old Horses' Home.

This tourney also constituted the prevailing court of those times, and
the plaintiff, calling upon God to defend the right, charged upon the
defendant with a charge which took away the breath of his adversary.
This, of course, was only applicable to certain cases, and could not be
used in trials for divorce, breach of promise, etc.

The tournament was practically the forerunner of the duel. In each case
the parties in effect turned the matter over to Omnipotence; but still
the man who had his back to the sun, and knew how to handle firearms and
cutlery, generally felt most comfortable.

Gentlemen who were not engaged in combat, but who attended to the
grocery business during the Norman period, wore a short velvet cloak
trimmed with fur over a doublet and hose. The shoes were pointed,--as
were the remarks made by the irate parent,--and generally the shoes and
remarks accompanied each other when a young tradesman sought the hand of
the daughter, whilst she had looked forward to a two-hundred-mile ride
on the crupper of a knight-errant without stopping for feed or water.

In those days also, the fool made no effort to disguise his folly by
going to Congress or fussing with the currency, but wore a uniform which
designated his calling and saved time in estimating his value.

The clergy in those days possessed the bulk of knowledge, and had
matters so continued the vacant pew would have less of a hold on people
than it has to-day; but in some way knowledge escaped from the cloister
and percolated through the other professions, so that to-day in England,
out of a good-sized family, the pulpit generally has to take what is
left after the army, navy, politics, law, and golf have had the pick. It
was a fatal error to permit the escape of knowledge in that way; and
when southern Europe, now priest-ridden and pauperized, learns to read
and write, the sleek blood-suckers will eat plainer food and the poor
will not go entirely destitute.

The Normans ate two meals a day, and introduced better cooking among the
Saxons, who had been accustomed to eat very little except while under
the influence of stimulants, and who therefore did not realize what they
ate. The Normans went in more for meat victuals, and thus the names of
meat, such as veal, beef, pork, and mutton, are of Norman origin, while
the names of the animals in a live state are calf, ox, pig, and sheep,
all Saxon names.

The Authors' Club of England at this time consisted of Geoffrey of
Monmouth and another man. They wrote their books with quill pens, and if
the authorities did not like what was said, the author could be made to
suppress the entire edition for a week's board, or for a bumper of
Rhenish wine with a touch of pepper-sauce in it he would change the
objectionable part by means of an eraser.

[Illustration: THE AUTHORS' CLUB AT THIS TIME.]

It was under these circumstances that the Plantagenets became leaders in
society, and added their valuable real estate in France to the English
dominions. In 1154, Henry Plantagenet was thus the most powerful monarch
in Europe, and by wedding his son Geoffrey to the daughter of the Duke
of Brittany, soon scooped in that valuable property also.

He broke up the custom of issuing pickpocket and felony licenses to his
nobles, seized the royal stone-piles and other nests for common sneak
thieves, and resolved to give the people a chance to pay taxes and die
natural deaths. The disorderly nobles were reduced to the ranks or sent
away to institutions for inebriates, and people began to permit their
daughters to go about the place unarmed.

Foreign mercenaries who had so long infested the country were ordered to
leave it under penalty of having their personal possessions confiscated,
and their own carcasses dissected and fed to the wild boars.

[Illustration: FOREIGN MERCENARIES LEAVE ENGLAND.]

Henry next gave his attention to the ecclesiastic power. He chose Thomas
a Becket to the vacant portfolio as Archbishop of Canterbury, hoping
thus to secure him as an ally; but a Becket, though accustomed to ride
after a four-in-hand and assume a style equal to the king himself,
suddenly became extremely devout, and austerity characterized this child
of fortune, insomuch that each day on bended knees he bathed the chapped
and soiled feet of thirteen beggars. Why thirteen beggars should come
around every morning to the archbishop's study to have their feet
manicured, or how that could possibly mollify an outraged God, the
historian does not claim to state, and, in fact, is not able to throw
any light upon it at the price agreed upon for this book.

[Illustration: A COOLNESS BETWEEN THE KING AND THE ARCHBISHOP.]

Trouble now arose between the king and the archbishop; a protracted
coolness, during which the king's pew grew gray with dust, and he had to
baptize and confirm his own children in addition to his other work.

The king now summoned the prelates; but they excused themselves from
coming on the grounds of previous engagements. Then he summoned the
nobles also, and gave the prelates one more chance, which they decided
to avail themselves of. Thus the "Constitutions of Clarendon" were
adopted in 1164, and Becket, though he at first bolted the action of the
convention, soon became reconciled and promised to fall into line,
though he hated it like sin.

Then the Roman pontiff annulled the constitutions, and scared Becket
back again into his original position. This angered the king, who
condemned his old archbishop, and he fled to France, where he had a tall
time. The Pope threatened to excommunicate Henry; but the latter told
him to go ahead, as he did not fear excommunication, having been already
twice exposed to it while young.

Finally a Becket was banished; but after six years returned, and all
seemed again smooth and joyous; but Becket kept up the war indirectly
against Henry, till one day he exclaimed in his wrath, "Is there no one
of my subjects who will rid me of this insolent priest?" Whereupon four
loyal knights, who were doubtless of Scotch extraction, and who
therefore could not take a joke, thought the king in dead earnest, and
actually butchered the misguided archbishop in a sickening manner before
the altar. This was in 1170.

Henry, who was in France when this occurred, was thoroughly horrified
and frightened, no doubt. So much so, in fact, that he agreed to make a
pilgrimage barefoot to the tomb of a Becket; but even this did not place
him upon a firm footing with the clergy, who paraded a Becket's
assassination on all occasions, and thus strengthened this opposition to
the king.

[Illustration: HENRY WALKING TO THE TOMB OF BECKET.]



CHAPTER XI.


CONQUEST OF IRELAND: UNCOMFORTABLE EFFECTS FOLLOWING THE CULTIVATION OF
AN ACQUISITORIAL PROPENSITY.


In 1173 occurred the conquest of Ireland, anciently called Hibernia.
These people were similar to the Britons, but of their history prior to
the year 400 A.D. little is known. Before Christ a race of men inhabited
Ireland, however, who had their own literature, and who were advanced in
the arts. This was before the introduction of the "early mass" whiskers,
and prior to the days when the Orangemen had sent forth their defiant
peal.

[Illustration: "EARLY MASS" WHISKERS.]

In the fifth century Ireland was converted by St. Patrick, and she
became known as the Island of Saints and Scholars. To say that she has
become the island of pugilists and policemen to-day would be unjust,
and to say that she has more influence in America than in Ireland would
be unkind. Surely her modern history is most pathetic.

For three centuries the island was harassed by the Danes and Northmen;
but when the Marquis of Queensberry rules were adopted, the latter threw
up the sponge. The finish fight occurred at Clontarf, near Dublin.

Henry had written permission from the Pope to conquer Ireland years and
years before he cared to do it. Sometimes it rained, and at other times
he did not feel like it, so that his permission got almost worn out by
carrying it about with him.

In 1172, however, an Irish chief, or subordinate king, had trouble with
his kingdom,--doubtless because some rival monarch stepped in it and
tracked it around over the other kingdoms,--and so he called upon the
Anglo-Normans under Strongbow (Richard de Clare), whose deClaration of
Independence was the first thing of the kind known to civilization, for
help. While assisting the Irish chief, Strongbow noticed a royal wink on
the features of Henry, and acting upon it proceeded to gather in the
other precincts of Ireland. Thus, in 1172, the island was placed under
the rule of a viceroy sent there by England.

Henry now had trouble with three of his sons, Henry, Richard, and
Geoffrey, who threatened that if the old gentleman did not divide up
his kingdom among them they would go to Paris and go into the _roue_
business. Henry himself was greatly talked about, and his name coupled
with that of fair Rosamond Clifford, a rival of Queen Eleanor. The king
refused to grant the request of his sons, and bade them go ahead with
their _roue_ enterprises so long as they did not enter into competition
with him.

[Illustration: THE BECKET DIFFICULTY STILL KEPT HENRY AWAKE AT NIGHT.]

So they went to Paris, where their cuttings-up were not noticed. The
queen took their side, as also did Louis of France and William, King of
Scotland. With the Becket difficulty still keeping him awake of nights
also, the king was in constant hot water, and for a time it seemed that
he would have to seek other employment; but his masterly hit in making a
barefooted pilgrimage to the tomb of Becket, thus securing absolution
from the Archbishop of Canterbury, turned the tide.

William of Scotland was made a prisoner in 1174, and the confederacy
against the king broken up. Thus, in 1175, the castle at Edinburgh came
into the hands of the English, and roast beef was substituted for oats.
Irish and Scotch whiskey were now introduced into the national policy,
and bits of bright English humor, with foot-notes for the use of the
Scots, were shipped to Edinburgh.

Henry had more trouble with his sons, however, and they embittered his
life as the sons of a too-frolicsome father are apt to do. Henry Jr.
died repentant; but Geoffrey perished in his sins in a tournament,
although generally the tournament was supposed to be conducive to
longevity. Richard was constitutionally a rebel, and at last compelled
the old gentleman to yield to a humiliating treaty with the French in
1189. Finding in the list of the opposing forces the name of John, his
young favorite son, the poor old battered monarch, in 1189, selected an
unoccupied grave and took possession of same.

[Illustration: THE UNHAPPY FATHER SANK INTO THE GRAVE.]

He cursed his sons and died miserably, deserted by his followers, who
took such clothing as fitted them best, and would have pawned the throne
had it not been out of style and unavailable for that purpose, beside
being secured to the castle. His official life was creditable to a high
degree, but his private life seemed to call loudly for a good, competent
disinfectant.

[Illustration: WHEN RICHARD WAS SICK THE GENEROUS SULTAN SENT HIM FRUITS
AND ICE.]

Richard _Kyur duh le ong_, as the French have it, or Richard I. of the
lion heart, reigned in his father's stead from 1189 to 1199. His reign
opened with a disagreeable massacre. The Jews, who had brought him some
presents to wear at his inaugural ball, were insulted by the populace,
who believed that the king favored a massacre, and so many were put to
death.

Richard and Philip of France organized a successful crusade against
people who were not deemed orthodox, and succeeded in bagging a good
many in Syria, where the woods were full of infidels.

Richard, however, was so overbearing that Philip could not get along
with him, and they dissolved partnership; but Richard captured Ascalon
after this. His army was too much reduced, however, to capture
Jerusalem.

Saladin, the opposing sultan, was a great admirer of Richard, and when
the lion-hearted king was ill, sent him fruits and even ice, so the
historian says. Where the Saracens got their ice at that time we can
only surmise.

Peace was established, and the pilgrims who desired to enter the holy
city were unmolested. This matter was settled in 1192.

On his return Richard was compelled to go _incog._ through Germany, as
the authorities were opposed to him. He was discovered and confined till
a large ransom was paid.

Philip and John, the king's brother, decided that Richard's extremity
was their opportunity, and so concluded to divide up his kingdom between
them. At this dramatic moment Richard, having paid his sixty thousand
pounds ransom and tipped his custodian, entered the English arena, and
the jig was up. John was obliged to ask pardon, and Richard generously
gave it, with the exclamation, "Oh, that I could forget his injuries as
soon as he will my forgiveness!"

[Illustration: RICHARD TRAVELLING INCOG. THROUGH GERMANY.]

Richard never secured a peace with Philip, but died, in 1199, from the
effects of a wound received in France, and when but forty-two years of
age. The longevity among monarchs of the present day is indeed
gratifying when one reads of the brief lives of these old reigners, for
it surely demonstrates that royalty, when not carried to excess, is
rather conducive to health than otherwise.

Richard died from the effects of an arrow wound, and all his foes in
this engagement were hanged, except the young warrior who had given him
his death wound. Doubtless this was done to encourage good marksmanship.

England got no benefit from Richard's great daring and expensive picnics
in Palestine; but of course he advertised Great Britain, and frightened
foreign powers considerably. The taxation necessary to maintain an army
in the Holy Land, where board was high, kept England poor; but every one
was proud of Richard, because he feared not the face of clay.

John, the disagreeable brother, succeeded Richard, and reigned seventeen
years, though his nephew, Arthur, the son of Geoffrey, was the rightful
heir. Philip, who kept himself in pocket-money by starting one-horse
rebellions against England, joined with Arthur long enough to effect a
treaty, in 1200, which kept him in groceries several years, when he
again brought Prince Arthur forward; but this was disastrous, for the
young prince was captured and cruelly assassinated by request of his
affectionate uncle, King John.

To be a relative of the king in those good old days was generally
fatal. Let us rejoice that times have so greatly improved, and that the
wicked monarch has learned to seat himself gingerly upon his
bomb-infested throne.

[Illustration: JOHN CAUSED ARTHUR TO BE CRUELLY MURDERED.]



CHAPTER XII.


MAGNA CHARTA INTRODUCED: SLIGHT DIFFICULTIES ENCOUNTERED IN OVERCOMING
AN UNPOPULAR AND UNREASONABLE PREJUDICE.


Philip called the miserable monarch to account for the death of Arthur,
and, as a result, John lost his French possessions. Hence the weak and
wicked son of Henry Plantagenet, since called Lackland, ceased to be a
tax-payer in France, and proved to a curious world that a court fool in
his household was superfluous.

John now became mixed up in a fracas with the Roman pontiff, who would
have been justified in giving him a Roman punch. Why he did not, no
Roman knows.

On the death of the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1205, Stephen Langton
was elected to the place, with a good salary and use of the rectory.
John refused to confirm the appointment, whereat Innocent III., the
pontiff, closed the churches and declared a general lock-out. People
were denied Christian burial in 1208, and John was excommunicated in
1209.

Philip united with the Pope, and together they raised the temperature
for John so that he yielded to the Roman pontiff, and in 1213 agreed to
pay him a comfortable tribute. The French king attempted to conquer
England, but was defeated in a great naval battle in the harbor of
Damme. Philip afterwards admitted that the English were not conquered
by a Damme site; but the Pope absolved him for two dollars.

[Illustration: KING JOHN SIGNS THE MAGNA CHARTA.]

It was now decided by the royal subjects that John should be still
further restrained, as he had disgraced his nation and soiled his
ermine. So the barons raised an army, took London, and at Runnymede,
June 15, 1215, compelled John to sign the famous Magna Charta, giving
his subjects many additional rights to the use of the climate, and so
forth, which they had not known before.

Among other things the right of trial by his peers was granted to the
freeman; and so, out of the mental and moral chaos and general
strabismus of royal justice, everlasting truth and human rights arose.

Scarcely was the ink dry on Magna Charta, and hardly had the king
returned his tongue to its place after signing the instrument, when he
began to organize an army of foreign soldiers, with which he laid waste
with fire and sword the better part of "Merrie Englande."

But the barons called on Philip, the general salaried Peacemaker
Plenipotentiary, who sent his son Louis with an army to overtake John
and punish him severely. The king was overtaken by the tide and lost all
his luggage, treasure, hat-box, dress-suit case, return ticket, annual
address, shoot-guns, stab-knives, rolling stock, and catapults,
together with a fine flock of battering-rams.

This loss brought on a fever, of which he died, in 1216 A.D., after
eighteen years of reign and wind.

A good execrator could here pause a few weeks and do well.

History holds but few such characters as John, who was not successful
even in crime. He may be regarded roughly as the royal poultice who
brought matters to a head in England, and who, by means of his
treachery, cowardice, and phenomenal villany, acted as a
counter-irritant upon the malarial surface of the body politic.

After the death of John, the Earl of Pembroke, who was Marshal of
England, caused Henry, the nine-year-old son of the late king, to be
promptly crowned.

Pembroke was chosen protector, and so served till 1219, when he died,
and was succeeded by Hubert de Burgh. Louis, with the French forces, had
been defeated and driven back home, so peace followed.

Henry III. was a weak king, as is too well known, but was kind. He
behaved well enough till about 1231, when he began to ill-treat de
Burgh.

He became subservient to the French element and his wife's relatives
from Provence (pronounced _Provongs_). He imported officials by the
score, and Eleanor's family never released their hold upon the public
teat night or day. They would cry bitterly if deprived of same even for
a moment. This was about the year 1236.

[Illustration: THE PROMPT CORONATION OF THE NINE-YEAR-OLD KING HENRY.]

Besides this, and feeling that more hot water was necessary to keep up a
ruddy glow, the king was held tightly beneath the thumb of the Pope.
Thus Italy claimed and secured the fat official positions in the church.
The pontiff gave Henry the crown of Sicily with a C.O.D. on it, which
Henry could not raise without the assistance of Parliament. Parliament
did not like this, and the barons called upon him one evening with
concealed brass knuckles and things, and compelled him to once more
comply with the regulations of Magna Charta, which promise he rigidly
adhered to until the committee had turned the first corner outside the
royal lawn.

[Illustration: THE BARONS COMPELLED HENRY III. TO PROMISE COMPLIANCE
WITH THE MAGNA CHARTA.]

Possessing peculiar gifts as a versatile liar and boneless coward, and
being entirely free from the milk of human kindness or bowels of
compassion, his remains were eagerly sought after and yearned for by
scientists long before he decided to abandon them.

Again, in 1258, he was required to submit to the requests of the barons;
but they required too much this time, and a civil war followed.

Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, at the head of the rebellious
barons, won a victory over the king in 1264, and took the monarch and
his son Edward prisoners.

Leicester now ruled the kingdom, and not only called an extra session of
Parliament, but in 1265 admitted representatives of the towns and
boroughs, thereby instituting the House of Commons, where self-made
men might sit on the small of the back with their hats on and cry "Hear!
Hear!"

The House of Commons is regarded as the bulwark of civil and political
liberty, and when under good police regulations is still a great boon.

Prince Edward escaped from jail and organized an army, which in 1265
defeated the rebels, and Leicester and his son were slain. The wicked
soldiery wreaked their vengeance upon the body of the fallen man, for
they took great pride in their prowess as wreakers; but in the hearts of
the people Leicester was regarded as a martyr to their cause.

Henry III. was now securely seated once more upon his rather restless
throne, and as Edward had been a good boy for some time, his father gave
him permission to visit the Holy Land, in 1270, with Louis of France,
who also wished to go to Jerusalem and take advantage of the low Jewish
clothing market. In 1272 Henry died, during the absence of his son,
after fifty-six years of vacillation and timidity. He was the kind of
king who would sit up half of the night trying to decide which boot to
pull off first, and then, with a deep-drawn sigh, go to bed with them
on.

Edward, surnamed "Longshanks," having collected many antiques, and cut
up a few also, returned and took charge of the throne. He found England
prosperous and the Normans and Saxons now thoroughly united and
homogeneous. Edward did not hurry home as some would have done, but sent
word to have his father's funeral made as cheery as possible, and
remained over a year in Italy and France. He was crowned in 1274. In a
short time, however, he had trouble with the Welsh, and in 1282, in
battle, the Welsh prince became somehow entangled with his own name so
that he tripped and fell, and before he could recover his feet was
slain.

[Illustration: LONGSHANKS RECEIVES TIDINGS OF HIS FATHER'S DEATH.]

Wales having been annexed to the crown, Edward's son was vested with its
government, and the heir-apparent has ever since been called the Prince
of Wales. It is a good position, but becomes irksome after fifty or
sixty years, it is said.

[Illustration: CONQUEST OF WALES.]



CHAPTER XIII.


FURTHER DISAGREEMENTS RECORDED: ILLUSTRATING THE AMIABILITY OF THE JEW
AND THE PERVERSITY OF THE SCOT.


In 1278 the Jews, to the number of two hundred and eighty, were hanged
for having in their possession clipped coins. Shortly afterwards all the
Jews in England were imprisoned. Whenever times were hard the Jews were
imprisoned, and on one job lot alone twelve thousand pounds were
realized in ransom. And still the Jews are not yet considered as among
the redeemed. In 1290 they were all banished from the kingdom and their
property seized by the crown. This seizure of real estate turned the
attention of the Jews to the use of diamonds as an investment. For four
hundred years the Jews were not permitted to return to England.

Scotch wars were kept up during the rest of Edward's reign; but in 1291,
with great reluctance, Scotland submitted, and Baliol, whose trouble
with Bruce had been settled in favor of the former, was placed upon the
throne. But the king was overbearing to Baliol, insomuch that the
Scotch joined with the Normans in war with England, which resulted, in
1293, in the destruction of the Norman navy.

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