Our Island Story, Part 1 by Henrietta Elizabeth Marshall

1 000 - Introduction 3:40

"'What a funny letter, Daddy,' said Spen, as he looked at the narrow envelope which had just arrived, and listened to the crackle of the thin paper. "'Do you think so?' said Daddy. "'It is from home.' "'From home?' said Spen, laughing. "'Why, Daddy, this is home.' "'I mean from the old country, Spen.' "'The old country, Daddy?' said Vida, leaving her dolls and coming to lean against her father's knee. "'The old country? What do you mean?' "'I mean, the little island in the west, to which we belong, and where I used to live,' said Daddy. "'But this is an island, a great big one, Mother says. So how can we belong to a little island?' asked Spen. "'Well, we do. At least the big island and the little island belong to each other.' "'Oh, Daddy, do splain yourself.

You are not splaining yourself at all.' said Vida. "'Well,' said Daddy, with a sigh, "'long, long ago—' "'Oh,' said Spen, "'it's a story,' and he settled himself to listen. "'Yes,' said Daddy, "'it's a story, and a very long one, too. I think I must ask some one else to tell it to you.' And Daddy did ask some one else, and here is the story, as it was told to Spen and Vida. I hope it will interest not only the children in this big island, but some of the children in the little island in the West, too. I must tell you, though, that this is not a history lesson, but a story-book. There are many facts in school histories that seem to children to belong to lessons only. Some of these you will not find here, but you will find some stories that are not to be found in your school-books.

Stories which wise people say are only fairy tales, and not history. But it seems to me that they are part of our island story, and ought not to be forgotten, any more than those stories about which there is no doubt. So, although I hope you will not put this book beside your school books, but quite at the other end of the shelf beside Robinson Crusoe and Anoa's Archgeography, I hope, too, that it will help you to like your school history books better than ever. And that when you grow up, you will want to read for yourselves the beautiful big histories which have helped me to write this little book for little people. Then, when you find out how much has been left untold in this little book, do not be cross, but remember that, when you were very small, you would not have been able to understand things that seem quite simple and very interesting to you as you grow older.

Remember, too, that I was not trying to teach you, but only to tell a story.

H.E. Marshall.

2 001 - The Stories of Albion and Brutus 7:17

E. Marshall. Chapter One. The Stories of Albion and Brutus.

Once upon a time there was a giant called Neptune. When he was quite a tiny boy, Neptune loved the sea. All day long he played in it, swimming, diving, and laughing gleefully as the waves dashed over him.

As he grew older he came to know and love the sea so well that the sea and the waves loved him too, and acknowledged him to be their king. At last people said he was not only king of the waves. But God of the Sea. Neptune had a very beautiful wife, who was called Amphitrite. He had also many sons. As each son became old enough to reign, Neptune made him king over an island. Neptune's fourth son was called Albion. When it came his turn to receive a kingdom, a great council was called to decide upon an island for him. Now Neptune and Amphitrite loved Albion more than any of their other children. This made it very difficult to choose which island should be his.

The mermaids and mermen, as the wonderful people who live in the sea are called, came from all parts of the world with news of beautiful islands. But after hearing about them, Neptune and Amphitrite would shake their heads and say, No, that is not good enough for Albion. At last a little mermaid swam into the pink and white coral cave in which the council was held. She was more beautiful than any mermaid who had yet come to the council. Her eyes were merry and honest, and they were blue as the sky and the sea. Her hair was as yellow as fine gold, and in her cheeks a lovely pink came and went. When she spoke her voice sounded as clear as a bell, and as soft as the whisper of the waves, as they ripple upon the shore.

"'Oh, father Neptune,' she said, "'let Albion come to my island. It is a beautiful little island. It lies like a gem in the bluest of waters. There the trees and the grass are green, the cliffs are white, and the sands are golden. There the sun shines, and the birds sing. It is a land of beauty. Mountains and valleys, broad lakes and swift-flowing rivers—all are there. Let Albion come to my island. "'Where is this island?' said Neptune, and Amphitrite both at once. They thought it must indeed be a beautiful land, if it were only half as lovely as the little mermaid said. "'Oh, come, and I will show it to you,' replied she. Then she swam away, in a great hurry, to show her beautiful island. And Neptune, Amphitrite, and all the mermaids and mermen followed.

It was a wonderful sight to see them as they swam along. Their white arms gleamed in the sunshine, and their golden hair floated out over the water like fine seaweed. Never before had so many of the sea-folk been gathered together at one place, and the noise of their tails flapping through the water brought all the little fishes and great sea-monsters out, eager to know what was happening. They swam and swam until they came to the little green island with the white cliffs and yellow sands. As soon as it came in sight, Neptune raised himself on a big wave, and when he saw the little island lying before him, like a beautiful gem in the blue water, just as the mermaid had said, he cried out in joy, This is the island of my love.

Albion shall rule it, and Albion it shall be called.

So Albion took possession of the little island, which until then had been called Samothea, and he changed its name to Albion, as Neptune had said should be done.

For seven years Albion reigned over his little island. At the end of that time he was killed in a fight with the hero Hercules. This was a great grief to Neptune and Amphitrite. But because of the love they bore to their son Albion, they continued to love and watch over the little green island, which was called by his name. For many years after the death of Albion the little island had no ruler. At last one day there came sailing from the far-off city of Troy, A prince, called Brutus. He, seeing the fair island with white cliffs and golden sands, landed with all his mighty men of war. There were many giants in the land in those days, but Brutus fought and conquered them. He made himself king, not only over Albion, but over all the islands which lay around.

He called them the Kingdom of Britain, or Britannia, after his own name, Brutus. And Albion he called Great Britain, because it was the largest of the islands.

Although after this the little island was no longer called Albion, Neptune still loved it. When he grew old and had no more strength to rule, he gave his sceptre to the islands called Britannia, for we know Britannia rules the waves.

This is a story of many thousand years ago. Some people think it is only a fairy tale. But, however that may be, the little island is still sometimes called Albion, though it is nearly always called Britain. In this book you will find the story of the people of Britain. The story tells how they grew to be a great people, till the little green island set in the lonely sea was no longer large enough to contain them all. Then they sailed away over the blue waves to far distant countries. Now the people of the little island possess lands all over the world. These lands form the empire of Greater Britain.

Many of these lands are far, far larger than the little island itself. Yet the people who live in them still look back lovingly to the little island, from which they or their fathers came, and call it home.

3 002 - The Coming of the Romans 8:38

THE COMING OF THE ROMANS.

Hundreds of years passed after Brutus conquered Albion and changed its name to Britain, during which time many kings and queens reigned over the island. Our great poet Shakespeare has written about one of these kings, who was called King Lear. Some day you must read his story.

There were many good and wise rulers among these ancient British kings, but it would take too long to tell of them. So we must pass on to the time when another great warrior heard of the little lonely island, and came to conquer it. The name of this great warrior was Julius Caesar. He was a Roman. At that time the Romans were a very powerful people. They called themselves the masters of the world. It is true, they were very clever. They had taught themselves how to fight, how to make swords and armor, and how to build fortresses, better than any of the peoples who lived then. So it happened that the Romans generally won the victory over all who fought against them. But they were a very greedy people, and as soon as they heard of a new country they wanted to conquer it, and call it part of the Roman Empire.

Julius Caesar had been fighting in Gaul, or France, as we now call it. While there he heard of the little island with white cliffs over the sea. He was told that the people were very big and brave and fierce. He also heard that it was a rich land full of tin, lead, and other useful metals, and that the shores were strewn with precious pearls.

So he resolved to conquer this land, and add it to the Roman Empire. Caesar gathered together about eighty ships, twelve thousand men, and a great many horses. These, he thought, would be enough with which to conquer the wild men of Britain. One fine day he set sail from France, and soon came in sight of the island. The Britons, in some way or other, had heard of his coming, and had gathered to meet him. As he drew near, Caesar saw with surprise that the whole shore was covered with men, ready for battle. He also saw that the place which he had chosen for landing was not good, for there were high, steep cliffs, upon which the Britons could stand and shower darts upon his soldiers. So he turned his ships, and sailed along the coast, until he came to a place where the shore was flat.

The Roman ships were called galleys. They had sails, but were also moved by oars. The rowers sat in long lines down each side of the galley. Sometimes there were two or three tiers of them sitting one above the other. These rowers were generally slaves and worked in chains. They were often soldiers who had been taken prisoner in war, or wicked men who were punished for their misdeeds by being made to row in these galleys. It was a dreadful life. The work was very hard, and in a storm, if the vessel was wrecked, as often happened, the poor galley-slaves were almost sure to be drowned, because their heavy chains prevented them from swimming. As the Roman galleys sailed along the coast, the British warriors with their horses and war-chariots followed on land.

The war-chariots of the British were very terrible. They were like light carts and held several men, one to drive the horses, and the others to fight. On either side, from the centre of the wheels, swords stuck out. As the wheels went round, these swords cut down, killed, or wounded every one who came within reach. The Britons trained their horses so well that they would rush madly into battle, or stand stock-still in a moment. It was a fearful sight to see these war-chariots charge an enemy.

After sailing along the coast a little way, Caesar found a good place at which to land, and turned his vessels inshore. But the great galleys required so much water in which to sail that they could not come quite close to land. Seeing this, Caesar told his soldiers to jump into the water, but the soldiers hesitated, for the Britons had rushed into the water to meet them, and the Romans did not like the idea of fighting in the sea. Although the Romans were very good soldiers, they were not such good sailors as might have been expected. They did not love the water as the Britons did. These fierce barbarians! As the Romans called the Britons, urging their horses into the waves, greeted the enemy with loud shouts.

Every inch of the shore was known to them. They knew exactly where it was shallow and where it was deep, so they galloped through the water without fear. Suddenly a brave Roman, when he saw how the soldiers hesitated, seized a standard and leaped overboard, crying, "'Leap forth now, soldiers, if you will not betray your ensign to the enemy!' For I surely will bear myself as is my duty. The Romans did not have flags, such as we have in our army. Their standard was an eagle which was carried upon a pole. The eagle was of gold, or gilded to look like gold. Wherever the eagle led, there the soldiers followed, for it was the emblem of their honour, and they fought for and guarded it as their most precious possession.

So now, when the Roman soldiers saw their standard in the midst of the enemy, they followed with all haste. Their fear was great, lest it should be taken. It was counted as a terrible disgrace to the Romans if they returned from battle without their standard. Death was better than disgrace, so they leaped into the water to meet the fierce Britons. A fearful fight followed. The Romans could not keep their proper order, neither could they find firm footing. Weighed down with their heavy armor, they sank in the sand or slipped upon the rocks. All the while the Britons showered darts upon them, and struck at them fiercely with their battle-axes and swords. The Britons were very brave, but they had not learned the best ways of fighting as the Romans had.

So after a terrible struggle, the Romans reached the land. On shore they formed in close ranks, and charged the Britons. The Britons in their turn charged the Romans with their war-chariots. The horses tore wildly along, neighing and champing their bits, and trampling underfoot those who were not cut down with the swords on the wheels. As they galloped, the fighting men in the carts threw darts and arrows everywhere among the enemy. When they were in the thickest of the fray, the horses would suddenly stand still. Then the soldiers, springing out of the chariot, would fight fiercely again for a few minutes, with their battle-axes, killing every one within reach. Again they would leap into the cart, the horses would start forward, and once more gallop wildly through the ranks of the enemy, leaving a track of dead behind them, wherever they passed.

But in spite of all their wild bravery, the Britons were beaten at last, and fled before the Romans. Thus Caesar first landed upon the shores of Britain, but so many of his soldiers were killed and wounded that he was glad to make peace with these brave islanders. He sailed away again in such of his ships as had not been destroyed, for fierce storms had arisen a few days after his landing, and wrecked many of his vessels. Caesar did not gain much glory from this fight. Indeed, when he went away, it seemed rather as if he were fleeing from a foe, Then leaving a conquered land.

4 003 - The Romans Come Again 5:06

E. Marshall. CHAPTER III. THE ROMANS COME AGAIN.

Caesar must have felt that he had not really conquered the Britons, for, as soon as he arrived safely in France, he began to gather together another army. In the spring of the following year, he again sailed over to Britain. He came now not with eighty, but with eight hundred ships, and many thousands of men. But this time there was no one to meet him when he landed. The Britons, indeed, had heard of his coming. and had gathered in great force to resist him. But when they saw such a huge number of ships, their hearts were filled with fear, and they fled into the forests and hills to hide. It must have been a wonderful sight, in the eyes of the ancient Britons, to see so many ships sailing on the sea all at once.

They knew scarcely anything of the great lands which lay beyond the blue sea surrounding their little island. They had not even dreamed that the whole world contained as many ships as they now saw. So it was not surprising that at first they were afraid and fled, but they did not lose courage for long. They soon returned, and many battles were fought. The Romans seemed to think that they won all these battles, but the Britons were not at all sure of it. Certainly a great many people on both sides were killed. If the Britons had been less brave than they were, they would have been very badly beaten, for the Romans wore strong armor, and carried shields made of steel, while the Britons had little armor, if any at all, and their shields were made of wood covered with skins of animals.

The Roman swords, too, were strong and sharp, while those of the Britons were made of copper. Copper is a very soft metal, and swords made of it are easily bent. And so made useless. The Britons at this time were divided into many tribes, each following their own chief. They often used to quarrel among themselves. Now, however, they joined together against their great enemy, and chose a brave man, called Cassivellanus, to be their leader. Cassivellanus led the Britons so well, and Caesar found it such a difficult task to conquer them, that at last he was glad to make peace again. and sail back to his own country. He did not like to go away as if he had been defeated, so he sent messengers to the British chief, saying, "'If you let me take some of your warriors back to Rome, as a sign that you are now Roman subjects, and will not rebel against me, I will go away.' The Britons were only too glad to be rid of Caesar and his soldiers at any price.

They gave him some British soldiers to take back to Rome, and even promised to pay him a certain sum of money every year. But it almost seemed as if Neptune had been doing battle for his beloved Albion, with his winds and waves. For while Caesar had been fighting the Britons, such fierce storms arose that his ships were thrown upon the rocky shore, and many of them dashed to pieces. Indeed, so few of his ships remained fit to put to sea again, that Caesar could not take all his soldiers away at one time. As many went as could, and the ships came back again for the others. Caesar did not leave any soldiers in Britain at all, so it does not seem as if he had really conquered the land. These things happened in the year fifty-four B.C., that is, fifty-four years before Christ was born.

All Christian lands count time from the year in which Christ was born, Because His coming is the most wonderful thing which has ever happened. Anything that took place before Christ was born is said to be in such and such a year, B.C. Everything which has taken place since then is said to be A.D., or Anno Domini, which means, in the year of our Lord. For instance, this book is written in the year 1905, A.D., or Nineteen hundred five years after the birth of Christ.

On May 9, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

5 004 - How Cligula Conquered Britain 8:01

E. Marshall. CHAPTER IV. How Caligula conquered Britain, and how Caractacus refused to be conquered.

After the second coming of Caesar, years passed during which the Romans left the Britons in peace, but they had by no means forgotten about the little green island in the Blue Sea. Julius Caesar had been dead many years, when a Roman Emperor called Caligula said he would go to Britain, and thoroughly conquer the island. He did not mean to land and fight in one small part of it as Julius Caesar had done. He meant to march over the island, north, south, east, and west, and bring it all under the power of Rome. That is what he said he was going to do. What he really did was something quite different. He gathered a great army, and marched from Italy right through France till he reached the coast.

There news came to him that Gildarius, the king of Britain, had heard of his coming, and had also gathered his soldiers together.

Caligula must have been afraid when he heard that the brave Britons were ready to fight him, for this is how he conquered Britain. He drew his soldiers up in battle array upon the shore. Then he himself went into his galley, and told his sailors to row him out to sea. After they had rowed him a short way, he told them to return. When he had landed again, he climbed into a high seat, like a pulpit, which he had built on the sands. Then he sounded a trumpet, and ordered his soldiers to advance, as if to battle. But there was no enemy there. In front of the soldiers there was nothing but the blue sea, and the sandy shore covered with shells. They could not fight against the waves and the sand, And the brave Britons whom they had come to fight were far away on the other side of the water, and quite out of reach.

So the soldiers stood and wondered what to do. Then Caligula ordered them to kneel down upon the sand, and gather as many shells as they could. The first thing a Roman was taught was to obey, so now the soldiers did as their general commanded, and gathered the cockle-shells, which lay around in hundreds. It must have been a curious sight to see all these strong soldiers, armed with sword, shield, and helmet, picking up shells upon the seashore. When they had gathered a great quantity, Caligula made a speech. He thanked the soldiers as if they had done him some great service. He told them that now he had conquered the ocean and the islands in it, and that these shells were the spoils of war. He praised the soldiers for their bravery, and said that the shells should be placed in the temples of Rome, in remembrance of it.

Then he rewarded them richly, and they marched home again. That was how Caligula conquered Britain.

After the death of Caligula, another Roman called Claudius tried to conquer Britain. He sent generals and came himself, but he could not thoroughly subdue the Britons. A few chiefs, indeed, owned themselves beaten, but others would not. They would rather die than be slaves of Rome, they said. Among those who would not yield was a brave man called Caractacus. A great many of the Britons joined him, and fought under his orders. Caractacus and his men fought well and bravely, but in the end the Romans defeated them.

After many battles, Caractacus chose for his camp a place on the top of a hill, on the borders of Shropshire, Cheshire, and Lancashire. There he made a very strong fortress, surrounded by three walls and a deep ditch. These walls were so well built that after all these long years, they can still be seen quite plainly to-day. When the Roman soldiers came to the foot of the hill, Caractacus prepared for battle. He called his soldiers together and made a speech to them. "'Show yourselves to be men,' he said. to-day is either the beginning of liberty, or of eternal bondage. Remember how your forefathers fought against Julius Caesar, and fight now for your homes, as they did for theirs. Then all the Britons called out, "'We will die for our country!' The noise of their shouts was carried by the wind to the camp of the Romans.

It sounded to them as if the Britons were rejoicing. The Romans feared Caractacus. They knew how brave he and his men were. They knew that it would be very difficult to take his strong fortress. Yet they felt quite sure of taking it in the end, and they wondered what cause the Britons had for rejoicing. And it happened as the Romans expected. After fierce fighting and great slaughter on both sides, the camp was taken. Caractacus, his wife and daughter, and all his brothers were made prisoner, and led in chains to Rome. And there was great sorrow in Britain. Whenever a Roman emperor returned from battle and victory, he used to have what was called a triumph. Every one in Rome had a holiday. The streets were gay with flowers and green wreaths.

The conqueror, dressed in beautiful robes and wearing a crown of bay leaves, rode through the streets. He was followed by his soldiers, servants, and friends. Then came a long train of the captives he had made during the war. with the armor, weapons, jewels, and other riches he had taken from the conquered people. After the war with Britain was over, Claudius had a triumph. The fame of Caractacus had already reached Rome, and when it became known that he had been taken prisoner and would walk in the triumph, there was great excitement. The people crowded into the streets, eager to see this brave warrior, and although in chains he looked so proud and noble, that many even of the Romans were sorry for him.

When he was brought before the emperor and empress, Claudius and Agrippina, he did not behave like a slave or a captive, but like the free-born king and briton he was. "'I am as nobly-born as you,' he said proudly to Claudius. "'I had men and horses, lands and great riches. Was it wonderful that I wished to keep them?' You fight to gain possession of the whole world and make all men your slaves, but I fought for my own land and for freedom. Kill me now and people will think little of you, but if you grant me my life, all men will know that you are not only powerful, but merciful. Instead of being angry, Claudius was pleased with the proud words of Caractacus. He was so pleased that he set him at liberty with his wife and all his family.

But whether Caractacus ever returned to his dear country, or whether he died in that far-off land, we do not know. We do not hear anything more about him.

End of chapter four. Read by Kara Schallenberg. W.W.K. Ray.org. On May 11th, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

6 005 - The Story of a Warrior Queen 8:40

V.

THE STORY OF A WARRIOR QUEEN Although the Britons had lost their great general Caractacus, still they would not yield to the Roman tyrants. Soon another brave leader arose. This leader was a woman. Her name was Baudica, and she was a queen. She ruled over that part of the country which is now called Norfolk and Suffolk. As I said before, the Romans were a very greedy people. They wanted to take away the freedom of Britain, and make the island into a Roman province. They also wanted to get all the money and possessions which belonged to the Britons for themselves. The husband of Boudicca knew how greedy the Romans were, and when he was about to die he became very sad. He was afraid that the Roman Emperor would rob his wife and daughters of all their money, when he was no longer there to take care of them.

So, to prevent this, he made the Emperor a present of half of his money and lands, and gave the other half to his wife and children. Then he died happy, thinking that his dear ones would be left in peace.

But the greedy Romans were not pleased with only half of the dead king's wealth. They wanted the whole. So they came and took it by force. Boudicca was a very brave woman. She was not afraid of the Romans, and she tried to make them give back what they had stolen from her. Then these cruel, wicked men laughed at her. And because she was a woman and had, they thought, no one to protect her, they beat her with rods, and were rude to her daughters. But although the Romans were clever, they sometimes did stupid things. They thought very little of their own women, and they did not understand that many of the women of Britain were as brave and as wise as the men, and quite as difficult to conquer. After Boudicca had been so cruelly and unjustly treated, she burned with anger against the Romans.

Her heart was full only of thoughts of revenge. She called her people together, and, standing on a mound of earth, so that they could see and hear her, she made a speech to them. She told them first how shamefully the Romans had behaved to her, their queen. Then, like Caractacus, she reminded them how their forefathers had fought against Julius Caesar, and had driven the Romans away for a time at least. "'Is it not better to be poor and free than to have great wealth and be slaves?' she asked. "'And the Romans take not only our freedom but our wealth. They want to make us both slaves and beggars. Let us rise.' O brothers and sisters, let us rise and drive these robbers out of our land. Let us kill them every one.

Let us teach them that they are no better than hares and foxes, and no match for greyhounds. We will fight, and if we cannot conquer, then let us die, yes, every one of us, die rather than submit. Queen Boudicca looked so beautiful and fierce, as she stood there, With her blue eyes flashing and her golden hair billowing round her in the wind, that the hearts of her people were filled with love for her, and anger against the Romans. As she spoke, fierce desires for revenge grew in them. They had hated their Roman conquerors before. Now the hatred became a madness. So, when Boudicca had finished speaking, a cry of rage rose from the Britons. They beat upon their shields with their swords, and swore to avenge their queen, to fight and die for her and for their country.

Then Baudica, leaning with one hand upon her spear, and lifting the other to heaven, prayed. She prayed to the goddess of war, and her prayer was as fierce as her speech, for she had never heard of a god who taught men to forgive their enemies. As she stood there praying, Boudicca looked more beautiful than ever. Her proud head was thrown back, and the sun shone upon her lovely hair, and upon the golden band which bound her forehead. Her dark cloak, slipping from her shoulders, showed the splendid robe she wore beneath, and the thick and heavy chain of gold round her neck. At her feet knelt her daughters, sobbing with hope and fear. It was a grand and awful moment, and deep silence fell upon the warriors as they listened to the solemn words.

Then with wild cries they marched forward to battle, forgetful of everything but revenge. The battles which followed were terrible indeed. The words of Queen Baudica had stirred the Britons until they were mad with thoughts of revenge and hopes of freedom. They gave no mercy, and they asked none. They utterly destroyed the towns of London and of St. Albans, or Verulamium, as it was then called, killing every one, man, woman, and child.

Again and again the Romans were defeated, till it almost seemed as if the Britons really would succeed in driving them out of the country. Boudicca herself led the soldiers, encouraging them with her brave words. "'It is better to die with honour than to live in slavery,' she said. "'I am a woman, but I would rather die than yield. Will you follow me, men?' And of course the men followed her gladly. At last the Roman leader was so downcast with his many defeats that he went himself to the British camp, bearing in his hand a green branch as a sign of peace. When Baudica was told that an ambassador from the Romans wished to speak to her, she replied proudly, "'My sword alone shall speak to the Romans.'" And when the Roman leader asked for peace, she answered, "'You shall have peace, peace, but no submission.

A British heart will choose death rather than lose liberty. There can be peace only if you promise to leave the country.'" Of course, the Romans would not promise to go away from Britain, so the war continued, and for a time the Britons triumphed. But their triumph did not last long. The Roman soldiers were better armed and better drilled than the British. There came a dark day when the Britons were utterly defeated, and many thousands were slain. When Boudicca saw that all hope was gone, she called her daughters to her. "'My children,' she said sadly, as she took them by the hand, and drew them towards her. "'My children, it has not pleased the gods of battle to deliver us from the power of the Romans.

But there is yet one way of escape.' Tears were in her blue eyes as she kissed her daughters. She was no longer a queen of fury, but a loving mother. Then, taking a golden cup in her hands, Drink," she said gently. The eldest daughter obeyed proudly and gladly, but the younger one was afraid. "'Must I, mother?' she asked timidly. "'Yes, dear one,' said Baudica gently. "'I, too, will drink, and we shall meet again.' When the Roman soldiers burst in upon them, they found the great queen dead, with her daughters in her arms.

She had poisoned both herself and them, rather than that they should fall again into the hands of the Romans.

End of chapter five, read by Kara Schallenberg. W.W. Dot. K. Ray. Dot. Org. On May 18th, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

7 006 - The Last of the Romans 8:16

VI.

THE LAST OF THE ROMANS. Caractacus was dead, Boudica was dead, many other brave British leaders were dead, but the Britons still continued to give the Romans a great deal of trouble. At last Vespasian, who was then Emperor of the Romans, sent a general called Julius Agricola to see if he could subdue the people and govern the island of Britain. Julius Agricola was a very clever soldier. and a wise man. When he had gained one or two victories over the Britons, he tried what kindness would do. This was something the Romans had never done before. Julius Agricola tried to understand the people. He was just and fair. He not only took away many of the heavy taxes which the Romans had made the British pay, but he built schools, and had the people taught to read and write.

For up to this time the Britons had had no teachers, and no schools. None of them could read or write, and perhaps there was not a single book in the whole island. Of course, books in those days were quite different from what they are now. There was no paper, and printing was unknown, so when people wanted to make a book they wrote upon strips of parchment, which was made from the skins of animals. These strips were then rolled up, and looked very much like the maps we hang upon the wall, only they were smaller. Besides building schools, Agricola built public halls and courts where the people might come and ask for justice, whenever they had been wronged. He taught the Britons what obedience, law, and order meant, and in every way tried to make them live good lives.

Soon the Britons began to understand that the Romans could give them some things which were worth having, so there was much more peace in the land. Julius Agricola also built a line of forts across the island from the Forth to the Clyde. He did this to keep back the wild Picts and Scots, or people of the North, for as they could not be brought under Roman rule, nor tamed in any way, He thought it was better to try to shut them into their own country. Later on, an emperor, called Antonin, built a great wall along the line of Agricola's forts, for the same purpose. But while Julius Agricola was doing all this good work in Britain, the emperor who had sent him died, and another ruled instead. This emperor was jealous of Agricola, because he managed the people of Britain so well.

He was so jealous that he told Agricola to come back to Rome, and sent another man to govern Britain instead of him. It was very foolish of a great emperor to be angry with his general, because he did his work well. He ought rather to have been glad. The people of Britain soon showed him how foolish he had been, for they once more rebelled against Roman rule. Later on, another great emperor, who was called Hadrian, reigned. And he himself came to Britain. He found the wild people of the north very troublesome, so he built a wall across Britain from the Tyne to the Solway. He did not try to drive these wild people so far north as Agricola had done. The wall which Hadrian built is still called by his name, and is still to be seen to this day, so you can imagine what a very strong wall it was, and what a fierce people they were who lived beyond it.

Hadrian was as wise as Agricola had been. He taught the Britons many things which were good and useful to know, but very soon after he left the island, the people rebelled again.

And so it went on until, at last, nearly five hundred years after the first coming of Julius Caesar, the Romans gave up and left Britain altogether. That was about the year 410 A.D., The wonder is that they had stayed so long, for the Britons had certainly given them a great deal of trouble. But after all, although the Britons always fought against the Romans, they had learned many things from them. Before the Romans came, the Britons had been very ignorant and wild. In many parts of the country they wore no clothes at all. Instead they stained their bodies blue, with a dye called woad. Their houses were only little round huts, with a hole in the middle of the roof which let some light in, and the smoke of the fire out.

There were no schools, and little boys and girls were taught nothing except how to fish and hunt, and how to fight and kill people in battle. There were hardly any roads, and there were no churches.

The ancient Britons were heathen. They worshipped the oak-tree and the mistletoe. The British priests were called Druids. It is said that they received their name from Druis, who was a very wise king of Albion in far-off times.

The Druids were the wisest people in the land. When anyone was in doubt or difficulty, he would go to them for advice. They were very solemn and grand old men, with long white beards and beautiful robes. There were no churches, as I said, But the people worshipped in dark hollows in the woods, and in open spaces, surrounded by great oak-trees.

Some of the teaching of the Druids was very beautiful, but some of it was very dreadful, and they even killed human beings in their sacrifices. But the Romans taught the Britons many things. They taught them how to build better houses, and how to make good roads, how to read and write, And much more that was good and useful. And presently priests came from Rome, bringing tidings of a new and beautiful religion. They came to tell the people of Britain how the Son of God came to earth to teach men not to hate and kill each other, but to love each other, and above all, to love their enemies. It is difficult to understand what a wonderful story this must have seemed to the wild island people. For they were a people who were born, and who lived and died among wars and hatred.

Yet many of them believed and followed this new religion. Gradually the Druids disappeared, and the priests of Christ took their place.

Although the religion of Christ came from Rome, the Romans themselves were nearly all pagans. And one of the last Roman emperors who tried to rule Britain hated the Christians very much. He forbade the worship of God and Christ, and killed and tortured those who disobeyed his orders. But the people who had once become Christian would not again become heathen. They chose rather to die. A person who dies for his religion is called a martyr. In the next chapter is the story of the first Christian martyr in Britain.

8 007 - The Story of St. Alban 10:08

VII.

THE STORY OF ST. ALBAN.

The first Christian martyr in Britain was called Alban. He lived in the town called Verulamium. He was a Briton, but he was one of those who had learned many things from the Romans. When he was a boy, he had even travelled to Rome, and had seen the beautiful city from which these conquerors took their name. And all that he had seen and learned had helped him to grow up a noble, generous man. Alban had a great deal of money, and with it he used to help the poor people who lived around him. Every one loved and trusted him. Even the Christians loved and trusted him, although he was a heathen. If any one was in trouble, he would go for help to Alban, the great, rich, kind man. When the wicked Roman Emperor sent men to kill the Christians in Britain, a holy man, called Amphibolus, who also lived in Verulamium, fled to the house of Alban for shelter.

"'My lord,' said this old man, "'the soldiers of the emperor seek me to take my life. Hide me, and God will reward you.' "'What evil have you done?' asked Alban. "'I have done no evil,' replied Amphibalus. "'I am a Christian, that is all.' "'Then fear nothing,' said Alban kindly. I have heard much of the Christians, but nothing that is bad. Then Alban took Amphibalus into his house and hid him. He seemed quite safe there, as the soldiers did not think of looking for him in the house of a man who was a heathen.

Alban talked every day with Amphibalus, who told him all the story of Christ. It seemed to Alban very beautiful and wonderful that any one should die to save others. He felt that this religion of love and gentleness was much better than the fierce teaching of the Druids. For some days Amphibalus lived in peace. But one day, while he sat talking with Alban, a frightened servant came to say that soldiers were at the gate. They had found out where Amphibalus was hiding. "'My son,' said the old man, trembling, "'I must say farewell, for I am about to die.' "'No,' replied Alban. "'I will save you yet. Give me your robe.' Then, hastily taking off his own beautiful robe, he threw it over the old man's shoulders, and thrust a purse of gold into his hand.

"'Go,' he said. "'Go quickly. My servant will take you by secret ways. I will keep the soldiers from pursuing you. But bless me, father, before you go.' Alban knelt. And Amphibolus gently laid his hand upon the bowed head. "'May God the Father reward you, and may the Holy Spirit lead you in the true way of Christ. Farewell, my son.' Then he made the sign of the cross over him, and was gone. Alban wrapped himself in the robe which Amphibolus had taken off, and, drawing the hood over his head, waited. The soldiers, having at last forced a way into the house, rushed in upon him. Seeing a man in the robe of a priest, they seized and bound him, never doubting that it was Amphibalus the Christian. Alban was then led before the Roman governor.

There his hands were unbound, and there he threw off his long robe. Great was the astonishment of the soldiers when they discovered that their prisoner was not the Christian priest for whom they had been seeking, But the heathen lord, Alban.

The governor happened to be offering up sacrifices to idols when Alban was led before him. He was very angry with the soldiers for allowing Amphibolas to escape, and still more angry with Alban for helping him to do so. "'Who are you, and how dare you hide wicked and rebellious people in your house?' he asked. "'You must tell me where this Christian is hiding, and offer sacrifices to the gods to show that you are sorry for what you have done.' "'I can do neither of these things,' replied Alban. "'Who are you that you dare to defy me?' demanded the governor. "'What does it matter to you who I am?' replied Alban. "'I asked for your name,' repeated the governor in furious anger. "'Tell it to me at once.' "'My parents called me Alban,' he then replied.

"'Then, Alban, if you would have the gods forgive you, you must offer sacrifices to them, and repent of your wicked words and deeds.' "'I cannot,' replied Alban. "'I no longer believe in these old gods. They teach men to be cruel and wicked. I shall never sacrifice to them again. Amphibalus is a good and gentle old man.' He has never hurt nor wronged anyone. Yet these gods tell you to torture and kill him. I will not believe in them any more. I would rather believe in the god of Amphibolus, who teaches people to love one another. Then the governor cried out, "'This man is too wicked to live. Take him and put him to death.' The soldiers led Alban away, and it soon became known all over the town that Alban, who was good and kind, and loved by every one, was to be put to death.

So a great crowd followed him as he was led across the river and up the grassy slope to the top of a hill. Indeed, so many people followed that no one was left in the town except the wicked governor. Perhaps when he was alone in the terrible silence of the empty streets, he felt sorry for what he had done, but it was too late. Alban had gone to death, and there was not one person remaining in the town whom the governor could send after him to bring him back.

With tears and sobs, the people followed and pressed round Alban. Every one was eager to show his love for him, and to say a last good-bye. When they came to the little bridge over the river, the crowd was so great that it was impossible for Alban to pass. So the soldiers, impatient and angry, said he must walk through the water. Then, we are told, a wonderful thing happened. The water of the river dried up, and Alban passed over on dry land.

On they went up the hillside. It was a beautiful green grassy slope where the children used to play in the summer sunshine. Sweet-scented wild flowers made it gay with their bright colours. Pretty butterflies fluttered about, and the air was full of the hum of bees and the song of birds.

On the top of the hill, Alban knelt down, feeling tired and thirsty. Just at that moment there seemed to spring from the ground a clear stream of water, which no one had noticed before. Alban bent down, drank from it, and felt refreshed. A tall soldier had been walking beside Alban, carrying a great sword with which to cut off his head. But when he saw how gentle and good Alban was, and how the people loved him, he began to feel sorry for what he had to do. As Alban knelt upon the grass, the soldier threw down his sword, crying out, "'This is a holy man. I cannot kill him.' The captain of the soldiers was very angry at this. "'Take up your sword,' he said, "'and do your duty.' "'I cannot,' replied the man.

"'I would rather die.' "'Then you shall die,' replied the captain, and drawing his own sword, with one blow he cut off Albin's head, and with a second the head of the soldier. At the same moment, we are told, the captain lost his sight, and remained blind for the rest of his life. This is the story of how the first martyr in Britain died. He was brave, and wise, and kind, and, like Christ, he gave his life for others. After his death, Alban was called St. Alban, and the name of the town in which he had lived was changed from Verulamium to St. Alban's. The sorrowing people built a church on the spot where he died, When it became so old that it fell into ruins, a still more beautiful one was built.

That church remains to this day, and people still worship God on the very spot where the first Christian martyr in Britain died. Although we need not believe the wonderful stories of what happened at St. Alban's death, it is interesting to know that there is still a spring called Holywell at St. Alban's, And that the hill up which the people followed the saint is still called Holywell Hill.

9 008 - Vortigern and King Constans 9:03

CHAPTER VORTIGARN AND KING CONSTANZ During nearly all the time that the Romans remained in Britain, the Britons fought with them, and rebelled against them. But, strange to say, hardly had the Romans gone away than the Britons wanted them to come back.

While they remained in Britain, the Romans took all the strongest and bravest of the Britons for soldiers. They made them go into the Roman army, and taught them how to fight like the Romans. When they left Britain, they took away all these British soldiers as well as their own. So the poor country was left with very few men who were able to fight. There were no great generals either, like Cassivellaunus, Caractacus, or Bodeca, to lead them. And in those days, when people were almost always fighting and quarrelling, it was very necessary not only to have brave soldiers, but wise generals. You will remember that the Romans built two walls across Britain, in order to keep back the wild people who lived in the north, that is, in the part of the island which we now call Scotland.

As long as the Romans remained in Britain, they rebuilt and repaired these walls whenever it was necessary. Soldiers, too, lived in the forts, which were placed at short distances along the walls. These soldiers kept watch, So that the Picts and Scots had not much chance of getting into the south part of the island.

But when the Romans went away, there was no one to guard and repair these walls. The Picts and Scots soon found this out. They broke down the walls and overran the whole south country, reaching even as far as London. Fierce and brave as the Britons were, they were no match for the Picts and Scots. Besides, they had very few soldiers left, and no great leader. So in despair they sent a letter to the Roman Emperor, asking for help. This letter was so sad that it was called, The Growns of the Britons. "'Come and help us,' it said, "'for the barbarians drive us into the sea, and the sea drives us back again to the barbarians.' So those of us who are not killed in battle are drowned, and soon there will be none of us left at all.

The Romans, you remember, called the Britons barbarians, and now the Britons in their turn called the Picts and Scots barbarians. But by this time the Romans had as much as they could do to fight their own battles. They could spare no soldiers to send to Britain, so the Britons had to help themselves as best they could.

It was a very sad and miserable time for Britain, till at last a wise king called Constantine began to reign, and he succeeded in driving the Picts and Scots back into their own country. But one day a wicked Pict killed this wise king, and things became as bad as ever, if not worse, for the people, besides fighting with their enemies, began to quarrel among themselves as to who should be king next. King Constantine had three sons. The eldest, Constans, was a monk. A monk is a man who takes a vow that he will not marry and have a home of his own. He lives in a big house with other monks, and spends his time in praying, in reading good books, and in helping people who are poor or ill. Constantine's eldest son was a man like this.

His two younger sons, who were called Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther Pendragon, were little boys. Now some people said, "'We cannot have a monk for our king.' Others said, "'We cannot have little boys.' So they quarrelled. Among the nobles of Britain was a prince called Vortigern. He was very wise, but not very good. He now went to Constans and said to him, "'Your father is dead. Your brothers are only little boys. You ought to be king.' "'Be a monk no longer, but trust yourself to me, and I will make you king. Only you must promise to take me for your chief advisor.' "'It is considered a very wicked thing for a man to break his vows and cease to be a monk, after he has promised to be one for all his life.' But perhaps Constans was rather tired of that way of living, for he promised to do everything that Vortigern asked.

Vortigern took Constans away from the monastery, as the house in which monks live is called. They went to London together, and Vortigern marched into the king's palace, took the crown, and put it on Constans's head. Then he told the people that Constans was their new king. The people were not very pleased at having a king chosen for them in this way, but, as Vortigern was such a powerful prince, they were afraid to fight with him, so they let Constance be king. Now, Vortigern really wanted to get the whole of the power for himself. He knew that Constance, having lived all his life in a monastery, could not know much about ruling people. So, although Constance was called king, It was really Vortigern who ruled.

First Vortigern took charge of the king's money. Next he got all the strong castles into his hands, and filled them with his own soldiers. Then he said to the king, "'I hear that the Picts and Scots are coming to fight against us again. We ought to have more soldiers.' King Constans replied, "'I leave everything to you. Get more soldiers if you think we need them.' Then Vortigern said, "'I think the Picts would be the very best soldiers to get. They will come and fight for us if we pay them well.' In those days people did not always fight for their own country. There were many soldiers who would fight for any country, and any cause, if only they were paid well.

So Vortigern sent to Scotland for a hundred Picts. When they came he treated them very kindly. He gave them more money and better food and clothes than any of the other soldiers. The Picts thought Vortigern was a very kind master. They soon saw that he really had all the power, and that Constans was only a pretence king.

Now Vortigern wanted these Picts to murder Constans, but he was too cunning to tell them this plainly, So one day he appeared with a sad face, and told the Picts that Constans gave him so little money that he could not afford to live in Britain any more, and must go somewhere else. This made the Picts very angry with Constans. They were so afraid of losing their kind master that they resolved to kill Constans and make Vortigern king. That night, while Constans was asleep, they rushed into his room, cut off his head, and carried it to Vortigern. Fortigern was really delighted that his plan had succeeded so well, but he pretended to be very sad at the death of Constans, and very angry with those who had killed him.

He ordered all the Picts to be put into prison, and then had their heads cut off. He did this because he was afraid they might say afterwards that he had told them to murder Constans. When the two little boys, Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther Pendragon, heard what had happened to their brother, King Constance, they were afraid that Vortigern might kill them too. For although Vortigern tried hard to make believe that he had had nothing to do with the murder of Constance, the people felt quite sure that he was really to blame for it. So Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther Pendragon fled away to that part of France called Brittany, where they remained in safety for many years.

10 009 - The Coming of Hengist and Horsa 9:22

E. Marshall. Chapter Nine. The Story of the Coming of Hengist and Horsa. Vortigern now became king, for he was so powerful that none of the other princes dared to oppose him. But the Picts and Scots were very angry when they heard how their friends had been treated. They resolved to avenge them, and at once made war on the Britons. They defeated Vortigern in many battles, and killed more than half of his soldiers. The Britons were in despair. Then Vortigern called all the nobles and princes together in council, to discuss what was best to do.

At this time there were really no very clever men among the nobles of Britain. They were all in great fear of the Picts and Scots, and they had no good counsel to offer. Vortigern therefore was able to do very much as he liked. "'We must have help,' he said. If we are not to be thoroughly conquered by these wild barbarians from the north. The Romans will not help us. We must ask some one else. Across the sea, called the North Sea, there is a great country called Germany. The people who live in this country are Saxons. They are very brave and valiant fighters. Let us send over to Germany, and ask the Saxons to come and help us." Then all the nobles and princes said, That is good advice. Let it be done.

So Wortigern sent messengers to Germany with promises of money and land to the Saxons, if they would come to fight against the Picts and Scots. The Saxons were very glad to come, and soon there appeared sailing over the sea three ships, filled with some of their strongest and bravest men.

Their captains were two brothers, called Hengist and Horsa. Both these names, in the old Saxon language, mean horse. They were so called because they were strong and brave. The Saxons landed in Britain in 449 A.D., and little did the Britons think that they had come not only to help, but to conquer them. As soon as the strangers landed, Vortigern led them northward to fight the Picts and Scots. There was a terrible battle. Both sides fought with the fiercest bravery, and on both sides many soldiers were killed. But in the end the Saxons had the best of it, and the Picts and Scots were driven back to their own country. The Britons were greatly delighted, and rewarded the Saxons with money and lands.

Then Hengist and Horsa, seeing what a fine country Britain was, resolved never to go away again. They resolved rather to stay, and conquer it for themselves. So they first told Vortigern that Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther Pendragon, the brothers of the dead king Constans, were coming to fight against him, and then they advised him to send over to Germany for more soldiers. Vortigern was very much afraid of the dead king's brothers, so he said, "'Send messengers to Germany, and ask whom you like to come. I can refuse you nothing, since you have freed us from the Picts and Scots.' Then Hengist said, "'You have indeed given us lands and houses, but as we have helped you so much, I think you should give me a castle, and make me a prince.' "'I cannot do that,' replied Vortigern.

"'Only Britons are allowed to be princes in this land. You are strangers, and you are heathen. My people would be very angry if I made any one but a Christian, a prince.' At that Hengist made a low bow, pretending to be very humble. "'Give your servant, then, just so much land as can be surrounded by a leather thong,' he said. Vortigern thought there could be no harm in doing that, so he said, "'Yes, you may have so much.' But he did not know what a cunning fellow Hengist was. As soon as Vortigern had given his consent, Hengist and Horsa killed the largest bullock they could find. Then they took its skin and cut it round and round into one long narrow strip of leather. This they stretched out, and laid upon the ground in a large circle, enclosing a piece of land big enough upon which to build a fortress.

If you do not quite understand how Hengist and Horsa managed to cut the skin of a bullock into one long strip, get a piece of paper and a pair of scissors. Begin at the edge and cut the paper round and round in circles till you come to the middle. You will find that you have a string of paper quite long enough to surround a brick castle. If you are not allowed to use scissors, ask some kind person to do it for you.

Vortigern was very angry when he learned how he had been cheated by Hengist and Horsa, but he was beginning to be rather afraid of them, so he said nothing, but allowed them to build their fortress. It was called Thong Castle, and stood not far from Lincoln, at a place now called Keister.

While this fortress was being built, messengers were sent to Germany for more men. They returned with eighteen ships full of the bravest soldiers they could find. In one of the ships, too, was a very beautiful lady. This was Rowena, Hengist's daughter. Soon after these soldiers and this beautiful lady arrived, the castle was finished. Then Hengist gave a great feast, and asked Vortigern to it. Vortigern came, and admired the castle very much, although he was still rather angry with Hengist for having cheated him about the land. Towards the end of the feast, Rowena came into the room, carrying a beautiful golden cup in her hands. Vortigern stared at her in surprise. He had never seen any one so pretty before.

He thought that she must be a fairy. She was so lovely.

Rowena went up to Vortigern, and, kneeling before him, held out the cup, speaking in the Saxon language. Vortigern did not understand. "'What does she say?' he asked Hengist. "'She calls you Lord King, and offers to drink your health. You must say—''Drink Heil,' he answered. Vortigern said, Drink Heil, although he did not know what it meant. Rowena then drank some of the wine, and handed the cup to Vortigern, who drank the rest. Then Vortigern made Rowena sit beside him. They could not talk to each other because he could only speak British, and she could only speak Saxon. But they looked at each other all the more. Vortigern loved Rowena. He loved her so much that he wanted to marry her. This was just what Hengist had hoped would happen.

He knew he would have a great deal of power in Britain when his daughter was queen. But at first he pretended to object, and only consented at last as if it were a great favour. He made Vortigern give him the whole of Kent, too, in return for allowing him to marry Rowena. When the people heard that the king had married a Saxon lady, they were very angry. Vortigern had been married before, and his sons, who were now men, were very angry too. But the Prince of Kent was most angry of all, when he heard that his land had been given to the Saxons. Hengist, seeing how angry the Britons were, thought it would be safer to have more of his own people round him. So he sent over to Germany for men, and almost every day more and more Saxons landed in Britain.

And Vortigern loved Rowena so much that he allowed her father, Hengist, to do anything he liked. But the Britons did not mean to let their country be conquered a second time, so they rebelled against Vortigern, and chose his son, Vortimer, to be king. Vortimer was young and brave, and loved his country. Under his leadership, the Britons fought so well that they soon drove the Saxons away. Horsa was killed in one of the battles, and soon afterwards Hengist and most of his soldiers took their ships and fled back to Germany.

They left their wives and children behind them, however, which looked very much as if they expected to come back again some day.

In Oceanside, California.

11 010 - Hengist's Treachery 7:36

E.

Marshall. Chapter 10. Hengist's Treachery. The Britons were very glad to see the last of these heathen Saxons, and Vortimer began to restore order, and rebuild the towns and churches, which Hengist and Horsa and their men had destroyed. Vortimer was a very good king, and his people loved him and obeyed him. But there was one person in the land who hated him. That person was his stepmother, Rowena. She hated him because he had driven her father, Hengist, and all her countrymen away. Rowena tried in many ways to kill Vortimer, but she could not succeed. His people loved him so much that they guarded him well. At last, however, she found a wicked man who, because she promised him a great sum of money, agreed to poison Vortimer.

So one day the people were told the sad news that their good king was dead. After this, we do not hear very much more of Rowena, nor do we know if she was ever punished for her wickedness. As soon as Vortigern heard that his son was dead, he came from the castle in Wales, where he had been hiding, and made himself king again. Then Rowena sent messengers to her father, and he gathered all his ships and men together, and came sailing over the sea to Britain once more. When the Britons heard that Hengist was coming, they were very angry and prepared to fight. Vortigern was frightened too. He sent a message to Hengist, telling him that he must go away again. "'The Britons are ready for battle,' he said, "'and you and your men will all be killed if you try to land.' But Hengist was as cunning as ever.

He sent back a message to Vortigern, saying that he did not know that Vortigern was dead. "'I came to fight for you.' "'To help you to regain your throne,' he said. "'But now that you are king again there is no need to fight. Let us be friends. Let us all, Britons and Saxons, meet together at a great feast. Let us forget our quarrels and make peace. Then I will go home again with my soldiers.' Vortigern told the British nobles that Hengist wanted to make friends. The Britons really did not wish to fight any more, so they readily agreed to meet Hengist in a friendly way on the plain of Salisbury, and feast together. A day was fixed. It was in May. The grass was green, and the sky blue, and the birds sang on this bright spring day.

From all sides came the British nobles in their gayest holiday clothes, wearing no armor, and carrying no weapons. The Saxons, too, came gaudily clad, and seemingly unarmed. There was laughter, and talk, and friendly greeting, and the feast began. Suddenly, over the noise of the feasting, the voice of Hengist sounded loud. "'Draw your daggers!' Then every Saxon drew his dagger, which he had hidden in his stocking, and stabbed the Briton next to him. The Britons fought and struggled bravely, but they had no chance. They had only their bare hands with which to defend themselves, for they had not dreamed of such treachery.

Only two of all the Britons were saved. One was Vortigern, the king, because Hengist had ordered his soldiers not to kill him. The other was Edol, Earl of Gloucester. He found a wooden stake lying on the ground, and defended himself so bravely with it that, it is said, He killed seventy of the Saxons, and then escaped with his life.

After this wicked and cowardly slaughter of unarmed men, Hengist took possession of Britain. His wild, heathen soldiers swarmed all over the land, killing people, burning towns, and making terrible havoc everywhere. The Britons fled in terror to the mountains and forests. Vortigarn himself fled into a lonely part of Wales. There he built a strong castle in which to hide, for he was very much afraid. He was afraid of Hengist and the Saxons, and he was afraid of the Britons. He was also afraid of Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther Pendragon, the two brothers of King Constans. For by this time they were no longer little boys, but had grown up into brave men. Vortigern had need to be afraid of Aurelius and Uther, for hearing how Hengist had taken possession of Britain, They thought it was now time to fight for their country.

So they gathered ships and soldiers together, and came sailing over from France to Britain. When the Britons heard that Aurelius Ambrosius and his brother had landed, they took heart again. They came out from the places in which they had been hiding from the Saxons. Joyfully they offered themselves to fight under the banner of the brothers. As soon as Aurelius and Uther had collected their army, they marched straight to Wales to besiege Vortigern in his castle. They had not forgotten that he had murdered their brother, Constans, and they meant to punish him. But the castle was very, very strong. Try how they might, the Britons could not take it. Vortigern sat behind the thick walls, and laughed at all their efforts.

At last the Britons fell upon a plan. They cut down trees, and gathered dry sticks and leaves from the forests round about. These they piled high round the castle. Day by day, Vortigern watched the pile of wood rising, and wondered what was going to happen. When the Britons had gathered enough wood, they set fire to it in several places at once. So one morning Vortigern awoke to hear the crackle-crackle of newly-lit fires. He looked out, and saw smoke and flames all around him. Wherever he looked, he saw little tongues of fire. Soon the little tongues grew longer and longer. Higher and higher leapt the flames. Fiercer and fiercer grew the heat. Vortigern's laughter was turned to wild shrieks.

In vain he prayed the Britons to have mercy on him, and let him escape. "'Had you any mercy on our brother, Constance?' said Ambrosius and Uther. "'Had you any mercy on our fathers and brothers when you let Hengist slay them on Salisbury Plain?' asked the Britons. "'You had no mercy. You shall find none.' The roar of the fire drowned all else. The flames leaped higher. With a crash, the roof of the strong castle fell in. Vortigern, the betrayer of his people, was dead."

12 011 - How the Giant's Dance was Brought to Britain 10:32

E. Marshall. Chapter 11. The Story of How the Giant's Dance Was Brought to Britain. Vortigern was dead, but the Saxons whom he had brought to Britain were still rulers of the land. So after burning the castle of Vortigern, Aurelius Ambrosius and Uther Pendragon marched against the Saxons. They defeated them in a great battle, and Hengist was taken prisoner. Then Aurelius Ambrosius called all the British nobles together in council to decide what should be done with Hengist. Aurelius was a very brave man, but he was not cruel. He was noble, and above all things he hated a lie. Hengist was brave too, but he was cruel, revengeful, and deceitful. Aurelius would have spared Hengist's life because he was such a brave man, but Edole, Earl of Gloucester, that noble who fought so well when the Britons were destroyed on Salisbury Plain, stood up.

"'It is not right,' he said, "'that Hengist should live. He has brought much sorrow on our land. Through his fault nearly all our nobles were killed on Salisbury Plain. Let him die.' Then all the people shouted, "'Let him die!' So Aurelius bowed his head, and said, "'It is just. Let him die.' Edol then led Hengist away and cut off his head.

But—' Although their leader was gone, many Saxons still remained in Britain, and afterwards you will hear how powerful they became. Aurelius was now chosen to be king of Britain, and, like Vortimer, he began to restore order and rebuild the churches and towns which the heathen Saxons had a second time destroyed.

The land which the Saxons had stolen he gave back to those of the Britons to whom it really belonged. He revised the laws, and once more peace and justice reigned in the kingdom. When Aurelius had put everything in good order, he went to Salisbury Plain to see the place where so many of his people had been put to death by Hengist and his wicked Saxons.

As he stood upon the great plain, he felt very sad. Turning to his nobles who surrounded him, he said, "'My people died trying to make peace for their country.' Yet there is no stone to mark the spot. I will have a noble monument raised, so that the wickedness of Hengist and the bravery of my people may be remembered for ever. Then Aurelius sent for all the best builders and masons in the country, and told them to make a splendid monument. But one after another they refused. "'We are not clever enough to do such a great thing,' they said. This made Aurelius sorry, for he wished very much that people should not forget these British heroes. Then a wise man came to him and said, "'Send for Merlin.

If any one can build a great monument, he can.' "'Who is Merlin?' asked Aurelius. "'Merlin is a great magician,' replied the wise man. "'He used to live with Vortigern and do wonderful things for him. Since Vortigern's death he has been hiding somewhere in Wales.' If you can find him, he will build the monument for you. A magician is a person who can do difficult things quite easily. His real home is in Fairyland, and he understands Fairy language. The fairies come and whisper their wonderful secrets to him, although no one else can see or hear them. Aurelius was very glad to hear about Merlin. He sent messengers into all the land to look for him. They searched about for a long time, Until at last they found Merlin, and brought him to the king.

As soon as Merlin knew what Aurelius wanted, he said, "'If you really wish to honour the burying-place of these men with a monument which will last for ever, send to Ireland for the Giant's Dance.' "'What is the Giant's Dance?' asked Aurelius. "'The Giant's Dance is a great ring of stones,' replied Merlin. They are so wonderful and so old that no one is sure how they came there. But it is said that long, long ago, giants brought these stones from a far-off country called Africa. When Aurelius heard that, he burst out laughing. "'How is it possible,' he asked, "'to remove such big stones from a far-off country? Have we not enough stones in Britain with which to build a monument?' And he laughed again.

"'Do not laugh.' said Merlin gravely. They are wonderful stones. Every one of them will cure some kind of illness. They are fairy stones. When the Britons heard that, they made up their minds to have these stones, and Uther Pendragon was chosen to go with Merlin to bring them. So, taking a great army of men and many ships, they set sail for Ireland. When they arrived in Ireland, they sent a message to the king. Asking him to let them take the giant's dance away. It was now the King of Ireland's turn to laugh. "'What mad people these Britons are,' he said. "'Was ever such folly heard of? Have they not enough stones in their own country that they must come to take mine? I shall certainly not give them one single stone of the giant's dance.

Tell them to go home again, and not to be so foolish.' But the Britons had quite made up their minds to have the giants dance. As the King of Ireland would not give it to them, they resolved to fight for it. This they did, and soon put the Irish to flight.

Then Merlin led the Britons to the place where the giants dance stood. Once they saw it, they were filled with joy and wonder, and set to work at once to move the stones. But try how they might, they could not move even the smallest of them one single inch.

They pulled and pushed, struggled and strained, till they were hot and tired, but the stones stood as firm as rocks. Merlin sat by, watching them, and smiling. Then, when they were all worn out, and cross and tired, he rose. "'Now let me try,' he said. "'It is really quite easy.' And in a very short time, with the help of his wonderful magic, he had moved all the stones and put them on board the ships. The people looked on in amazement, and as soon as he had finished, they set sail for Britain with great rejoicing. When they landed, messengers were sent to tell King Aurelius Ambrosius. He gathered all the nobles and clergy, and wearing his crown and royal robes, rode to Salisbury Plain. There, with great feasting and ceremony, the stones were set up as a memorial to the dead British heroes.

They were placed in exactly the same order as they were found in Ireland. Aurelius changed the name from Giant's Dance to Stonehenge, and the great monument may be seen on Salisbury Plain to this day.

Most people say this is a fairy tale, and ought not to be put in a history-book. They say that the stones on Stonehenge were there long before Merlin lived, long before Hengist and his Saxons, or Caesar and his Romans, even long before Brutus of Troy came. They say that probably no one will ever find out how these stones came to be there, or why they were placed as they are. I dare say they are right, but fairy tales are very interesting, and this fairy tale, if it is one, is to be found in some of the first histories of Britain that were ever written. So certainly at one time people must have believed it to be true.

Unfortunately, soon after this a wicked Saxon poisoned the good king, Aurelius Ambrosius. The Britons were very sad at his loss, and they buried him within the giant's dance, where so many other noble Britons lay. Then, because Aurelius had no children, The people chose his brother, Uther Pendragon, to be king. He, too, was good and wise, but he had to spend most of his time fighting against the Saxons. After the death of Hengist, very many Saxons had remained in Britain, and now many more came again in ships from Germany. Fierce and terrible battles were fought, and although the Saxons were often defeated, the Britons could not succeed in driving them away altogether. But the name of Uther Pendragon became a terror to these heathen.

It is said that when he was so old and feeble that he could not stand, he was carried to battle in a litter. And so great was the power and fame of his courage that the Saxons were utterly defeated. "'Ah,' he said, laughing, "'these heathen call me the half-dead king,' and so indeed I am. Yet victory to me, half-dead, is better than to be safe and sound and vanquished. For to die with honor is better than to live with disgrace. But alas, Uther Pendragon, like so many of the good kings before him, was also poisoned by the wicked Saxons. So he died, and the people buried him close to his brother, Aurelius Ambrosius, within the giant's dance, on Salisbury Plain.

13 012 - The Coming of Arthur 6:28

E. Marshall. CHAPTER XII. THE COMING OF ARTHUR.

As soon as Uther Pendragon was dead, the mighty nobles of Britain began to quarrel among themselves as to who should be king next. Each noble thought he had the best right, so the quarrelling was dreadful. While they were all gathered together, fighting and shouting at each other, Merlin came among them, leading a tall, fair-haired boy by the hand. When the nobles saw Merlin, they stopped fighting and were silent. They knew how clever he was, and what wonderful things he could do, and they were rather afraid of him. Merlin stood quietly looking at them all from under his bushy eyebrows. He was a very old man, but he was tall and strong and splendid, with a long white beard and fierce glittering eyes.

It was no wonder that the Britons felt afraid of him. "'Lords of Britain,' said Merlin at last, "'Why fight ye thus? It were more meet that ye prepare to do honour to your king. Uther Pendragon is indeed dead, but Arthur, his son, reigns in his stead.' "'Who is this Arthur? Where is he?' asked the nobles angrily. "'Uther Pendragon had no son.' "'Hear me,' said Merlin. "'Uther Pendragon had a son. It was told to me that he should be the greatest king who should ever reign in Britain.' So when he was born, lest any harm should befall him, he was given into my care till the time should come for him to reign. He has dwelt in the land of Avalon, where the wise fairies have kept him from evil, and whispered wisdom in his ear.

Here is your king. Honor him.

Then Merlin lifted Arthur up and placed him upon his shoulders, so that all the people could see him. There was something so noble and splendid about Arthur, even although he was only a boy, that the great lords felt awed. Yet they would not believe that he was the son of Uther Pendragon. "'Who is this Arthur?' they said again. "'We do not believe what you say. Uther Pendragon had no son.' Then Merlin's bright eyes seemed to flash fire. "'You dare to doubt the word of Merlin?' He shouted, "'O vain and foolish Britons! Follow me!' Taking Arthur with him, Merlin turned and strode out of the hall, and all the nobles followed him. As they passed through the streets, the people of the town, and the women and children followed too.

On they went, the crowd growing bigger and bigger, till they reached the great door of the cathedral.

There Merlin stopped. And the knights and nobles gathered around him, those behind, pushing and pressing forward, eager to see what was happening. There was, indeed, something wonderful to be seen. In front of the doorway was a large stone which had not been there before. Standing upright in the stone was a sword, the hilt of which glittered with gems. Beneath it was written, Whoso can draw me from this stone is the rightful king of Britain. One after another the nobles tried to remove the sword. They pulled and tugged till their muscles cracked. They strained and struggled till they were hot and breathless, for each one was anxious to be king. But it was all in vain. The sword remained firm and fast in the rock.

Then last of all Arthur tried. He took the sword by the hilt, and drew it from the stone quite easily.

A cry of wonder went through the crowd, and the nobles fell back in astonishment, leaving a clear space round the king. Then as he stood there, holding the magic sword in his hand, the British nobles one after another knelt to Arthur, acknowledging him to be their lord. "'Be thou the king, and we will work thy will. We love thee.' Then the king, in low deep tones, and simple words of great authority, bound them by so straight vows to his own self, that when they rose, knighted from kneeling, some were pale as at the passing of a ghost, some flushed, and others dazed, as one who wakes half-blinded at the coming of a light.

Arthur was only fifteen when he was made king, but he was the bravest, wisest, and best king that had ever ruled in Britain. As soon as he was crowned he determined to free his kingdom from the Saxons. He swore a solemn oath that he would drive the heathen out of the land. His knights he bound by the same solemn oath.

Then, taking the sword which he had won, and which was called Excalibur, and his mighty spear called Ron, he rode forth at the head of his army. Twelve great battles did Arthur fight and win against the Saxons. Always in the foremost of the battle he was to be seen, in his armor of gold and blue, the figure of the Virgin upon his shield, a golden dragon and crown upon his helmet. He was so brave that no one could stand against him, yet so careless of danger that many times he would have been killed, had it not been for the magic might of his sword, Excalibur, and of his spear, And at last the Saxons were driven from the land.

14 013 - The Founding of the Round Table 7:42

E. Marshall. Chapter 13. The Founding of the Round Table.

It is said that Arthur not only drove the Saxons out of Britain, but that he conquered many parts of Europe, until at last he ruled over thirty kingdoms. Then, for some years, there was peace. During these years Arthur did much for his people. He taught them to love truth and goodness, and to be Christian and gentle. No king had ever been loved as Arthur was loved. Liberal to each man, I ween, Knight with the best, wondrous keen. To the young he was as father, to the old as comforter. Wondrous stern to the unwise, Wrong could he suffer nowise. Right, dear exceeding was to him. Now was Arthur, right good king, His folk and all peoples loved him. In those fierce and far-off days, when men spent most of their time fighting, it was very necessary for them to be brave and strong, in order to protect their dear ones, but they were very often cruel as well, and nearly always fierce.

Arthur taught people that it was possible to be brave, yet kind, strong, yet gentle. Afterwards people forgot this again, but in the days of Arthur, the fame of his court, and of his gentle knights, spread far and wide. No noble thought himself perfect unless his armor, and clothes even, were made like those of Arthur's knights. No man thought himself worthy of love until, fighting for the right against the wrong, he had three times conquered an enemy. Many pretty stories are told of Arthur and his gentle, courteous knights, although they did not learn all their gentleness and their courtesy at once, as you shall hear. Upon an Easter-day Arthur called together all his knights and nobles, from his many kingdoms, to a great feast.

They came from far and near, kings, earls, barons, and knights, gay in splendid clothes, glittering with jewels and gold. As they waited for the king, they laughed and talked together, but secretly each heart was full of proud thoughts. Each man thought himself nobler and grander than any of the others. The tables were spread for the feast. They were covered with white silk cloths. Silver baskets piled with loaves, golden bowls and cups full of wine stood ready, and, as the knights and nobles talked and waited, they began to choose where they would sit. In those days master and servants all sat together at the same table for meals. The master and his family sat at the top, and the servants and poor people at the bottom of the table.

So it came to be considered that the seats near the top were the best. The further down the table any one sat, the less honor was paid him. At his feast no servants nor poor people were going to sit at table, yet all the nobles wanted places at the top. "'We will not sit in the seats of scullions and beggars,' they said. So they began to push each other aside, and to say, "'Make way, this is my seat.' "'Nay, I am more honorable than you. You must sit below me.' "'How dare you? My name is more noble than yours. This is my seat.' "'Give place, I say.' At first it was only words. Soon it came to blows. They had come to the feast unarmed, so they had only their hands with which to fight, But as they grew angrier and angrier, they seized the bowls of wine and threw them at each other.

Next, the loaves of bread, and the gold and silver cups were thrown about, the tables and benches were overturned. Howls and yells filled the hall, and everything was in dreadful confusion. When the noise was at its worst, the door opened, and the king appeared. His face was stern and grand as he looked down on the struggling, yelling crowd. "'Sit ye, sit ye down quickly, every man in the place where he is,' he cried. "'Whoso will not, he shall be put to death.' At the sound of their king's stern voice, the foolish nobles were filled with shame.

Silently they sat down. The tables and benches were put back in their places, and the feast began. But Arthur was sad at heart. "'How can I teach my people to be gentle and kind, if my knights will not even sit at meat in peace?' he said to himself. Then, as he sat sorrowfully wondering what he could do, Merlin came to him. "'Be not sad, O king,' he said, "'but listen to my advice. Tell your carpenters to make a great round table, at which there shall be a place for every knight.' Then there can be no more quarrelling, for at a round table there is neither top nor bottom, so no knight can say that he sits above or below another. All shall be equal. Then Arthur was sad no longer. He did as Merlin advised, and had a great round table made, at which there was a seat for each one of his knights.

After that there was no more quarrelling as to who should have the best place, for all were equal, And Arthur's knights became known as the Knights of the Round Table. But, alas, the time of peace did not last. Again came days of war and strife. In a great and terrible battle, Arthur and nearly all his knights were killed. Once more the fierce heathen swept over the land, filling it with sorrow and bloodshed, and the glory and beauty of knighthood were forgotten in Britain. But some people think that Arthur did not die. They say that when he was wounded so that he could fight no more, the wise fairies came to take him back to fairyland. They say that he is still there, and that some day he will come again.

Other people say the stories about Arthur and his knights are not true, but at least we may believe that in those far-off, fierce fighting days, there was a king who taught his people that to be gentle was not cowardly, And that to be cruel was not brave. Who reverenced his conscience as his king, whose glory was redressing human wrong, who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it, who loved one only, and who clave to her.

On May 19, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

15 014 - Gregory and the Pretty Children 11:36

THE STORY OF GREGORY AND THE PRETTY CHILDREN.

You remember that the Romans came to Britain, and in a manner conquered it. But after staying several hundred years, they again went away. When the Romans came to the island, the people who lived there were Britons. When the Romans left the island, the people who lived there were still Britons. The Romans could not make the Britons Romans however hard they tried. They could not even make them speak Latin, which was the language of the Romans. The Britons learned many things from the Romans, but in spite of all they learned, they never forgot that they were Britons.

When the Saxons came to Britain, things happened very differently. You remember that first of all, Vortigern asked the Saxons to come, and that afterwards every British king fought against them, and tried to drive them away.

It seemed sometimes as if the Britons might succeed, but it never seemed so for long. In fact, From the day Hengist and Horsa landed, Britain had never really been free from these fierce heathen people.

As time went on, they came in greater and greater numbers from over the sea. They were all Saxons, but there were many different tribes of them, some called Jutes, some Angles, and some by other names.

The Britons fought nobly for their country, but all in vain. However many of the Saxons were killed did not seem to matter, for their ships always brought more and more of them from over the sea. At last the Saxons had killed nearly all the Britons, and the few who remained took refuge in the mountains, in that part of the country which we now call Wales, and in Cornwall. So to this day the men of Cornwall and the Welsh are the descendants of the ancient Britons. And the language they speak is very like the language spoken by the ancient Britons. I want you to understand that the kings and people of whom you are now going to read are not British, but Saxon, the new people from over the sea, who had gradually taken possession of the whole of the south of Britain.

There were other British kings after Arthur, but as nearly all their time was taken up with fighting against the Saxons, the story of their lives is not very interesting. These wild Saxons did not at once settle down quietly into one kingdom. No, they had many leaders, and each leader seized a part of Britain for himself and his followers. So there arose seven different kingdoms.

And although they were really all one race of people, and spoke almost the same language, they were always fighting with each other.

This lasted until Egbert. One of the kings of one of the seven kingdoms succeeded in making the others own him as a kind of overlord. He was an angle, and he changed the name of the country from Britain to Angleland, or England. So we may say that he was the first king of England. The Saxons were heathen, as you know, and they pulled down the churches and killed the Christian priests. So all the land became heathen again. Only in the wild mountains of Wales the teaching of Arthur and his Christian knights was remembered. But once again the story of Christ was brought to Britain, and you shall now hear how it happened.

In those days slavery was allowed. That is, people used to buy and sell men and women, and little boys and girls, just as if they were cattle. The merchants who came to trade with Britain used to take away slaves to sell in far-off countries. One day a good man called Gregory was walking through the market-place in Rome. It was market-day, and the square was crowded with people buying and selling. It was very noisy and gay.

Fine gentlemen strolled about. Careful housewives went from stall to stall trying to find what was cheapest and best. Friends met and chatted. And through all the noise and bustle Gregory walked with his head bent, deep in thought. Suddenly he stood still. He had been awakened from his dream by the sound of children's voices, and now he stopped to watch them, as they laughed and played together. These children had fair faces and rosy cheeks, their eyes were merry and blue, and their hair shone like gold in the sunshine. Gregory thought they were the prettiest children that he had ever seen. A very tender look came into Gregory's eyes as he stood and watched them playing. Then he sighed, for he saw by the chains round their necks that they were to be sold as slaves.

Poor children, he said, so far from home.

He knew they must come from some far-off country because all the people in his own land had dark faces and black hair. "'Where do these children come from?' he asked, turning to the man who had charge of them. "'From the island called Britain,' replied the man. "'But the people are called Angles.' "'Angles,' said Gregory, as he gently put his hand on their curly heads. "'Nay, not Angles, but Angels they should be called.' The children could not understand what Gregory said, but they knew from his voice that it was something kind. They ceased their play, and stood round him, looking up trustingly into his face with their big blue eyes.

Gregory stroked their curly heads, and as he bent over them he felt love, for the pretty fair-haired children grow in his heart. He asked many questions about them, and when he heard that they were heathen, he made up his mind to buy them, and teach them to be Christians.

Gregory took the pretty children home with him. He was very kind to them, and taught them how to grow up into good men and women. They loved him, you may be sure, and he loved them so much that he made up his mind to go to Britain, to teach all their brothers and sisters there to be Christians too.

But the people of his own land were so fond of Gregory that they would not let him go. So, although it was a great sorrow to him, he was obliged to give up his plan.

But Gregory did not forget about it. Some years after this he was made Bishop of Rome, and so became a very powerful and important person. And one of the first things he did after he became powerful was to send a good man called Augustine to preach about Christ to the Angles. Augustine took about forty other good men with him, and set out for Britain. We are not told if the pretty children, whom Gregory had bought in the Roman market-place so many years before, were among these men, but I think very likely they were. They would be so glad to go back to their own country to teach their brothers and sisters all the good things they had learned from Gregory.

It is a long way from Italy to England. And in those days, when there were no trains, and travelling was both difficult and dangerous, it seemed very long indeed. But after many adventures, Augustine and his men arrived safely on the seashore of France. There they had to wait for a ship to take them across to Britain, or England, as we must now call it.

While they waited, Augustine and his men heard such stories about the fierceness of the Angles and the Saxons, that they were frightened. They were so frightened that they turned back to Rome.

When Gregory heard that they had returned, he was very angry. "'I am ashamed that you should be so cowardly,' he said to Augustine. "'Go back again. If the people of England kill you, you die for others, even as Christ did.' So Augustine set out again. This time he reached England. Although the Saxons were fierce and lawless, they treated Augustine and his followers very kindly. Ethelbert, who was King of Kent, one of the seven kingdoms into which England was divided, was the first to listen to them. He was a heathen, but he had married a Christian lady, and so had already heard something of the story of Christ. Soon he and all his people were baptized.

Augustine does not seem to have had any difficulty in persuading the Saxons to leave off worshipping idols. One would think that the heathen priests at least would have been very angry, and that they would have tried to stop the teaching of this new religion. But they did not.

A story is told of a priest whose name was Coifee. He sat one day among the people listening very attentively to the story of God and Christ. When the preacher had finished speaking, there was a great silence. This new religion seemed to the people to be very beautiful, but they were so accustomed to believing that their idols had power to punish them, if they neglected them or disobeyed them, that they were afraid. Then Coifee rose. "'No one,' he said, "'has ever served the old gods more faithfully than I have. I have tried to believe in them all my life.' Yet they have never done anything to make me better or happier. This new teaching seems to me to be good. Let us destroy our old gods, and turn to the teaching of Christ.

Then, while the astonished people looked on in fear, Coifee took a spear in his hand, mounted upon a horse, and, riding at full speed, knocked over the great idol which for so many years he had worshipped as God. When the people saw their god fallen and broken, they trembled. They felt sure something dreadful would happen to Coifee for his wickedness. But nothing happened. So, taking heart and following the example of Coifee, the people set fire to their temple, which was soon burned to the ground, and the idols with it. Then all the people were baptized, and became Christians.

In time, Augustine or his followers went through all the seven kingdoms of England. It took a long time, but at last the whole land became Christian, although of course the people did not learn all at once to live as good Christians ought. in Oceanside, California.

16 015 - How King Alfred Learned to Read 6:26

HOW KING ALFRED LEARNED TO READ.

When the Saxons first came to England, they came only to fight and kill, but soon they began to love their new home, and, when two or three hundred years had passed, they forgot that they had ever lived in any other country. So, instead of fighting against England, they began to fight for, and love the land as their own. Then English kings arose who tried to make good laws, and rule the people well, as some of the British kings had done. But just as the Romans had come to conquer Britain, and as the Saxons themselves had come, so now another people came. These new enemies were the Northmen, or Danes. They came from the countries which we now call Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

These Danes, as we shall call them, were fierce wild men. They loved to sail upon the sea. They loved to fight. They were heathen, too, just as the Saxons had been when they first came to England. Many and long were the battles which were fought between the English and the Danes, but year by year the Danes grew stronger, and the English weaker, till it seemed as if the land was going to be conquered once again. But at last a great English king, called Alfred, began to rule. He beat the Danes in many battles, and nearly drove them out of the country.

Alfred was the youngest son of Ethelwulf, who was king of Wessex, one of the seven kingdoms into which England was divided. He was also the grandson of Egbert, that king who changed the name of Britain to England. Although Ethelwulf was really king only of Wessex, he was overlord over all the rulers of the other seven kingdoms of England. So you must remember, when we speak of the king of England at this time, That we do not mean that he was the only king in the land.

But Wessex was the chief of the Seven Kingdoms, and the King of Wessex was the chief of the Seven Kings. In the end, the King of Wessex became real king of all England, while the other kingdoms disappeared, and their kings were forgotten.

King Ethelwolf's wife was called Osberga. She was a good and wise woman, and a very kind mother to her little children. She was clever, too, and fond of reading, which was rather uncommon in those days when very few people could read or cared about it. In the time of the Romans, you remember, books were written on strips of parchment, and rolled up like maps. Now they were shaped and bound just like our books, only as there was no paper and no printing, they were still written on parchment, And the pictures were all painted by hand. It took a long time to make a book, and required a great deal of money to buy one. One day, when Alfred, the youngest son of King Ethelwolf, was quite a tiny boy, he was playing with his big brothers, while Osberga, his mother, sat watching them and reading.

The book she read was one of old English songs. Osberga was very fond of these songs, and used to say them to her little boys when they were tired of play. It was a pretty book, full of pictures and bright letters in gold and blue and red. As Osberga turned the pages, Alfred saw the pretty pictures, so he left his play and came to lean against his mother's knee to look at them. "'What a pretty book it is, mother,' he said. "'Do you like it, little one?' said Osberga. "'Yes, mother, I do,' replied Alfred. Then all the other boys came crowding round their mother to see the pretty book too. They pressed against her, and leaned over her shoulder till nothing was to be seen but five curly heads close together.

"'Oh, isn't it lovely,' they said, as Osberga slowly turned the pages, explaining the pictures, and letting them look at the beautiful coloured letters at the beginnings of the songs. When Osperga saw how they all liked the book, she was very much pleased. She pushed them all away from her a little, and looked round their happy, eager faces. You see, in those days even kings' sons had no picture-books, such as every child has now, and it was quite a treat for these princes to be allowed to look at this beautiful one. "'Do you truly like this book?' asked Osperga. "'Oh, yes, mother, we do.' They all answered at once. "'Then, boys,' she said, "'I will give it to the one who first learns to read it.' "'Oh, mother, do you mean it?

May I try, too?' asked Alfred. "'Yes, I do mean it, and of course you may try,' answered Osperga, smiling at him. And perhaps she hoped that he would win the prize, for both his father and his mother loved Alfred best of all their children. And Alfred did win the prize. He was so eager to have the book that he worked hard all day long, and one morning while his big brothers were still trying to read the book, he came to his mother and read it without making any mistakes. Then Osberga kissed him and gave him the prize as she had promised. All his life afterwards Alfred was fond of books, and even when he became king and had many, many other things to do, he still found time Not only to read, but to write them.

17 016 - King Alfred in the Cowherd's Cottage 9:39

E. Marshall. Chapter 16. King Alfred. In the cowherd's cottage.

When Æthelwulf, Alfred's father, died, each of his sons became king in turn. During these reigns the Danes became more and more troublesome. Nearly all the time was spent in fighting, so that the country came to be in a very sad state indeed. When Æthelred, who was the last of Æthelwulf's sons except Alfred, came to the throne, Alfred had grown to be a man, and although he was still very young, he helped his brother a great deal. And when Æthelred died, the people chose Alfred to be their king. For although Æthelred had two sons, they were little boys, and no one thought of making either of them king. The people knew that a strong and wise man was needed to rule in England, and Alfred was both strong and wise.

No king has ever had to fight more bravely for his kingdom than Alfred had. When he came to the throne, the Danes were growing more and more bold. They did not now only come in their ships to plunder and rob, and then sail away again. They came now to live in the land, killing the people, and then taking their houses for themselves. So all the first years of Alfred's reign were spent in fighting these fierce enemies. But Alfred did not only fight bravely. He thought, too. The Danes were brave and daring sailors, just as the English had been before they came to live in England. But somehow, after the English settled down, they seemed to have forgotten about how to build ships, and how to sail upon the sea.

But Alfred was wise, and saw how much better it would be to stop the Danes before they landed at all. So he built ships, and went in them to fight the Danes on the sea. In the year 875 A.D., King Alfred and his ships met the Danes and their ships, and fought a great battle, and won a great victory. That was the first of many, many sea victories, which the English have won, and ever since the days of Alfred, England has had a navy, and Britannia has ruled the waves.

Ye mariners of England, that guard our native seas, whose flag had braved a thousand years, the battle and the breeze, your glorious standard launch again to match another foe, and sweep through the deep, while the stormy winds do blow. While the battle rages loud and long, and the stormy winds do blow. Britannia needs no bulwarks, no towers along the steep. Her march is on the mountain waves, her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak she quells the floods below, as they roar on the shore, when the stormy winds do blow, when the battle rages loud and long, and the stormy winds do blow.

But even although Alfred gained this battle at sea, the Danes were not beaten altogether. Again and again Alfred had to fight, But at last he forced the Danes to make peace. They swore by a most solemn and dreadful oath that they would go away, and never make war against the English again. This vow was taken with great ceremony. Sheep and cattle were killed and offered in sacrifice to the heathen gods, for the Danes, you remember, were heathen. A beautiful ring of gold, called the Holy Bracelet, was dipped in the blood of the animals. This bracelet was then placed upon an altar, and, laying their hands upon it, the Danish chiefs swore to fight no more against the English. This was not the first time that the Danes had promised to go away and fight no more, but they had always broken their promises.

Now Alfred thought they would be sure to keep their word, because of the very solemn vow they had taken. But the Danes did not mean to keep this promise any more than the others. Very soon they came back again as bold as before, or bolder. Once more fierce battles raged, till at last, weary of fighting, and forsaken by nearly all his followers, Alfred was forced to hide for a time in the marshes of Somerset. This was the saddest part of Alfred's life. He was a king, Yet he had neither crown nor royal robes, neither palace nor servants. He was so poor that he went to live in the cottage of a cowherd, called Denewolf. His clothes were so old and worn that the cowherd's wife thought that he was a friend of her husband, and so she treated him as if he had been a common man, and not a great king.

One day, Denewolf's wife was very busy. She had been baking cakes, and had still many things to do. Alfred, meanwhile, was sitting by the fire. He had been mending his bow and arrows, but they had dropped from his hand, for, thinking deeply about his kingdom and his people, and of how he could free them from the Danes, he had forgotten all else. It seemed, to Denewolf's wife, that Alfred was a lazy sort of fellow. She did not know the great matters he had to think of, and she wondered how any one could sit for hours by the fire doing nothing, while she and her husband had to work so hard. Now, she said to herself, this lazy fellow can at least look after my cakes while I go to do something else.

Here, good man, she said to him, just mind my cakes for me, and don't let them burn. When they are nice and brown on one side, turn them over on to the other side like this. And she showed him how to do it. "'All right, good wife. I will look after your cakes for you,' replied Alfred."

But when the good woman had gone, Alfred sank once more deep in thought. As he watched the cakes, he looked into the fire. Soon, in the red glow of the burning ashes, he saw wonderful things. The cakes and the cowherd's cottage vanished. Once again he was leading his army, His banner with its golden dragons fluttered in the breeze. His spear was in his hand, his crown upon his head. He heard the shout of his soldiers as they charged the Danes. The ranks of the enemy broke. They fled. To their ships they fled. Fast behind them came the English. They set fire to the Danish ships. He smelt the smoke as it rolled upward, heard the crackle of the flames, the shrieks of the dying. The shouts of victory.

England was saved.

Then suddenly he was awakened out of his dream by a blow to his shoulder, and an angry voice in his ear. Canst thee not mind the cakes, man? And doesn't thee see them burn? I's bound thee'll eat them fast enough, as soon as tis thy turn. Alas! the cakes, and not the Danish ships, were burning. Alfred was a great king, but he had proved a poor cook, and the good wife was very angry. She scolded him well, little thinking that she was scolding her king. She was still rating when Denowulf came in. "'Hush thee, woman, hush thee,' he said, ashamed and frightened. "'Hush, shall I?' she cried angrily. "'The lazy loon, the idle good-for-nought, to sit by the fire and see the cakes burn.' and never stir a finger.

"'Hush thee, woman,' said Dennewolf again in despair. "'It is the king.' "'The king!' cried the good wife, astonished, and a little frightened, too. "'Well, king or no king,' she added grumblingly after a minute, "'he ought to have minded the cakes.' Alfred was not angry, as Dennewolf feared he would be. And afterwards, when he came to his kingdom again, Alfred made the cowherd a bishop, for he had found out while hiding in his cottage that Dennewulf was a good and wise man. So his wife became a great lady, and perhaps never baked any more cakes. Certainly she never again had a king to watch them for her.

on May 22, 2006 in Oceanside, California.

18 017 - More About Alfred the Great 7:51

E. Marshall. CHAPTER XVII. MORE ABOUT ALFRED THE GREAT.

Soon Alfred was joined in his hiding-place in Somerset by his wife and children, and a few of his nobles. They chose a hill which rose above the surrounding marshes for their camp, and there Alfred and his nobles worked like common men, building a strong fort.

Because of this the place was called Athelney, which means the Isle of Nobles. While Alfred worked on the Isle of Nobles, he sent messengers secretly among his people, telling them where he was. Soon a small but faithful band gathered round him. Then, one day, some of Alfred's friends suddenly attacked the Danes, won a victory, and seized the great Danish banner called the Raven. The Danes were very sad at the loss of this banner, for they believed it to be a magic one. They said that when they were going to win a battle, the raven would spread its wings as if to fly, but when they were going to lose, the raven drooped its wings in sorrow. Now that their precious banner had been taken, they were always afraid of losing.

This victory cheered the English very much, and when the people heard of it, more and more of them gathered round their king.

Alfred now began to feel that the time for striking a blow had come, but first he wanted to find out exactly how many Danes there were, and what plans they had. So he dressed himself like a minstrel or singer, and taking his harp he went to the Danish camp. There he began to play upon his harp, and to sing the songs he had learned when he was a boy. The Danes were a fierce, wild people. Yet they loved music and poetry. They were delighted with Alfred's songs, and he was allowed to wander through the camp wherever he liked. Alfred stayed in the Danish camp for several days, singing his songs and playing sweet music, and all the time watching and listening. He found out how many Danes there were, and where the camp was strong and where it was weak.

He listened to the king as he talked to his captains, and— When he had found out everything he could, he slipped quietly away, and went back to the Isle of Nobles.

The Danes were sorry when they found that the gentle minstrel had gone, and little did they think that it was the great and brave King Alfred who had been singing and playing to them.

Alfred now knew that his army was strong enough to fight the Danes, so he left his fort on the Isle of Nobles and boldly marched against them. A battle was fought in which the Danes were defeated, and from that time onwards Alfred was victorious. The dark days were over. The power of the Danes was crushed. Their king, Guthorm, submitted to Alfred, and even became a Christian. When he was baptized, Alfred stood as godfather to him, and changed his name from Guthorm to the English name of Æthelstan.

Then Alfred made a peace with the Danes, called the Peace of Wedmore. And although the Danes did not leave England, they did not fight any more, and they left Wessex and kept within the land which was given to them in the north. Afterwards this part was called the Danelaw, or Daneland.

And now it was, in the time of peace, that Alfred began to do great things for his people, The things by which he earned his name of Alfred the Great. He collected the laws, and wrote them out so that people could understand them. He did away with the laws which he thought were bad, and made others. One law he made was that a man who had done wrong could not be punished unless twelve men agreed that he really had been wicked, and ought to be punished. This was called trial by jury. and means trial by those who have promised to do justly. Our word jury comes from a Latin word, which means to promise or swear. It was a very good law, for sometimes if a man hated another man he would say he had done something wicked in order to have him punished.

But when twelve men had to agree about it, it was not easy to have an innocent person unjustly punished.

Alfred was much loved. He made good laws, and the people kept them. They kept them so well that it is said that golden chains and bracelets might be hung upon the hedges, and no one would touch them. King Alfred was fond of reading and learning, and he tried to make his people fond of learning, too. In those days the monasteries were the chief places to which people went to learn. But the Danes had destroyed nearly all the monasteries, so Alfred began to build them again, and he also founded schools. Then, as nearly all the books which were worth reading were written in Latin, he translated into English several of the best he had read. He did this because he saw how much more difficult it was for people to learn to read when they had to do so in a foreign language.

Alfred built more great ships, and sent people into far countries to bring back news of them to England. He encouraged the English to make all kinds of things, in order to trade with these far-off countries. In fact, during all his life Alfred was thinking only of his people, and of what was best for them.

You will wonder how he found time to do all these things, and indeed it is wonderful, especially in those days when there were no clocks to strike the hours, and remind people how time was flying. Yet Alfred divided the day into three parts—eight hours for work, eight hours for study, and eight hours for rest. He invented a kind of clock for himself. He had great candles made, which were marked off into parts, each part burning for an hour. A man watched the candle, and, when the flame burned down to the mark, he went to the king and said, "'O king, another hour has fled!' Alfred was good, and wise, and kind. There never was a better king in England. He had to fight many battles, and war is terrible and cruel, but he did not fight for love of conquering, as other kings did.

He fought only to save his country and his people. We never hear of him doing one unjust or unkind act. He was truthful and fearless in everything. It is no wonder, then, that we call him Alfred the Great, Alfred the Truth-Teller. England's Darling.

19 018 - Ethelred the Unready 8:06

E. Marshall. Chapter 18. Ethelred, the Unready. Alfred died in 901 A.D., and his son Edward became king after him. He is called Edward the Elder, because he was the first of a great many kings of that name. He was a good king, and was greatly helped by his sister, Ethelfleda, who was called the Lady of Mercia. She was a brave, wise woman, and, like Baudica, often led her soldiers in battle. For the Danes began to be troublesome again, and Edward and Ethelflaida had to fight many battles with them. When Edward the Elder and Ethelflaida both died, Edward's son, Athelstane, came to the throne. He, too, was a good king, and he, too, had to fight with the Danes. After him came six kings who have been called the boy kings, because they were all so young when they came to the throne.

Some of these boy kings were wise and good, and all of them had to fight with the Danes. Year by year the Danes were becoming more and more powerful in England. They not only came and went in their ships, but many more of them settled in the country. They made their homes in England, and forgot about their old homes in Denmark. That would not have mattered much if they had become good English subjects, willing to obey an English king, but that is what they did not do. Instead, they rebelled always against the king, and so wars and fighting went on. Now you shall hear about the last of the boy kings. His name was Æthelred, and because he was foolish and slow, he was also called Æunready. He lived about a hundred years after Alfred.

In his reign everything seemed to go wrong. The Danes soon found out what a foolish man he was, And they came in greater numbers than ever. Æthelred had not spirit enough to be a good leader. He was never sure of what he wanted to do, so his soldiers lost heart, and his captains quarrelled among themselves. He built ships, but they were shattered by storms. The city of London caught fire by accident and was burnt to the ground. Everywhere there was misery and misfortune. Then Æthelred thought of an unhappy plan for ridding the country of the Danes. He said to them, ìI will give you a large sum of money if you will go away.î The Danes, of course, were delighted at the idea of getting money so easily, and they gladly promised.

Æthelred gave them the gold, and they sailed away, and the English people rejoiced. But the Danes, as you know, were never careful about keeping their promises. They went home, it is true, but when they had spent all the money which Æthelred had given them, they said, ìLet us go to England again and rob the people. Perhaps their foolish king will give us more money.î And so they sailed to England. Æthelred again gave them money to go back to Denmark. Again they sailed away. But when the money was spent, once more they returned.

Over and over again the same thing happened, Æthelred always giving the Danes larger and larger sums, for they grew more and more greedy when they saw how easy it was to make the foolish English king give them money. How did Æthelred get all the money which he gave to the Danes? Was it his own? No. In order to get the money Æthelred taxed the people. That is, he made each person pay a certain sum every year. And this was called Dengelt, or Dane Money.

The English were already accustomed to pay taxes for various things, and at first they did not mind paying this new one. Indeed, they were glad to do it, in the hope of getting rid of their terrible enemies. But when the Danes returned, time after time, when year by year the tax grew heavier and heavier, the people grew wary of it, and angry. "'We strive and toil,' they said, "'to earn money, that we may live in peace and comfort, but it is of no use. The king takes our money and gives it to these idle heathen. We will work and pay no more.' So the people grew moody, and the country was in greater misery than before. Then Æthelred thought of another plan by which to get rid of the Danes. This plan was both terrible and wicked.

He sent messengers into every part of England, telling the English that, on the 13th of November, they were to kill all the Danes, men, women, and children. This was a most cruel and wicked order. Besides, it was not the Danes who were living in England who gave the greatest trouble, but those who year by year came across the sea in their ships, to plunder and kill. But Æthelred was weak and cowardly. He dared not fight the fierce sea-kings, as they were called, so he thought he would murder their peaceful brothers and sisters.

And the most dreadful thing is that Englishmen all over the country were found willing to carry out the cruel order. Yet we must not think too hardly of these old Englishmen, for they had suffered so much from the Danes that it was little wonder that they hated them. Even those Danes who were living peaceably in England were so proud and haughty that the English hated them. They always thought they should have the best of everything. They expected to be called Lord Dane. They treated the English like slaves, and if an Englishman and a Dane met in a narrow passage or on a bridge, the Englishman had to go back until, My Lord Dane, had passed. So when the thirteenth of November came, the Englishman rose and slaughtered the Danes, every one, man, woman, and child, rich and poor, high and low.

None were saved. Among those who were killed was the Princess Gunnhilde, sister of the King of Denmark. She had married an English lord, and was living with him in England. She was not only very beautiful, but good. The Danes were heathen, but Gunnhilde had become Christian, and in her gentle way she tried to bring about peace between the English and the Danes. When the terrible slaughter began, and the air was filled with shrieks, Gunnhilde's husband, son, and servants gathered round her to protect her. Bravely they fought for her, but all in vain.

First her husband, and then her son, fell dead at her feet, Pierced by many spears.

Then a cruel man seized the beautiful Gunnhilde by the hair, and buried his sword in her heart. "'Alas,' she said, as she sank dying to the ground, "'my death will bring great sorrow upon England.'" on May 22, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

20 019 - How Edmund Ironside Fought for the Crown 8:16

HOW EDMOND IRONSIDE FOUGHT FOR THE CROWN. Gunnhilde was right. This act of Æthelred's proved to be not only wicked but foolish, and it brought great sorrow upon England. For as soon as Sweyn, king of Denmark, heard of the cruel murder, he determined to avenge his sister's death. Gathering a great company of soldiers and a most wonderful fleet of ships, he set sail for England. Over the blue waves came the fierce sea-kings in their splendid ships, with purple sails and glittering golden prows. Beasts and birds, dragons and serpents were carved upon the painted and gilded ships, and it seemed as if all the monsters of Fairyland were gathered to terrify and conquer the people of England. No storm stayed the ships.

Soft winds blew gently over sunny, sparkling waters, As nearer and nearer they came. Never before had the Danes come in such splendour and such force. The frightened people fled as these fierce sea-warriors landed, and where they landed, and on through all the country, wherever they passed, they left behind them a track of death and desolation. The people were killed, the towns were burned, the crops and cattle trampled and destroyed. Hunger, misery, and tears filled the land. Æthelred, weak and cowardly as ever, deserting his country in the hour of need, fled to France with his wife and children. Æthelred fled to France because his wife, Emma, was the daughter of the Duke of Normandy. Normandy is part of France.

Queen Emma's father received them kindly, and no doubt Æthelred enjoyed himself very much at the Norman court, riding and hunting, and quite forgetting his poor country. So, Sweyn, King of Denmark, was master of England. But though he was proclaimed king, he never wore the crown, for he died suddenly, leaving the throne to his son, Canute. But Englishmen could not forget the great Alfred and his good sons. They longed to have a king of their own people again. So, when Sweyn died, They sent messengers to France, begging Æthelred to come back, and promising to be true to him, and to fight for him, if only he would rule a little better than he had done.

Æthelred came back, and, had he had a little courage, he might soon have won all England again, for his people were ready and willing to die for their country. They only waited for a brave man to lead them. But Æthelred was neither better nor wiser than before. Soon his soldiers lost heart again, and some of them even deserted, and went to fight for Canute the Dane. This, too, in spite of all that Edmund Ironside, the brave son of Æthelred, could do. Edmund was called Ironside because of his strength and courage. He tried to keep the army together. But he could not hide his father's cowardice and weakness from the soldiers.

Soon, however, Æthelred died, and the people immediately crowned Edmund king. But some of the wise men and nobles thought it was of no use to try to fight against the Danes any longer, so they crowned Canute king. Thus there were two kings of England, an English king and a Danish, And the wars between the two nations continued as fiercely as ever. But now the English had a wise king and a brave leader. That was all they asked. They took heart again, and joyfully followed him. Five great battles were fought, and in nearly all of them the English were victorious. That seems to show that it was truly Æthelred's fault that the English were ever beaten. He did not love his people. And he did not care what happened to them.

He thought only of his own pleasure and comfort. But Edmund Ironside was different. He thought only of his country, and although he was winning battle after battle, it made him sad and sick at heart to see his people die. The horror of war had filled the land for so many years that he longed for peace.

One day, as the two armies lay opposite each other, ready for battle, Edmund sat in his tent, sad and weary. The summer sun shone on unploughed fields and ruined homes. All around there was sorrow and desolation. As Edmund looked across the land with sad eyes, he thought to himself that he would gladly die if he could bring peace to his dear country. He sat some time in thought, and then suddenly calling one of his captains, he said to him, "'Go to Canute, the Dane. Say to him that I, Edmund Ironside, King of England, sent him greeting. That, weary of battle and death, I challenge him to fight in single combat with me alone. He who dies shall die and be buried as befits a king.' He who lives shall be ruler over all England.

The captain bowed low before the king, and, mounting upon his horse, he rode off to the Danish camp with this strange message. When Canute heard it, he sat silently thinking for some time. Then, turning to the messenger, he said, "'Go, tell Edmund Ironside that I will meet him, and, please God, although I am the lesser man, I shall conquer him.' And still be King of England.

Both kings then arrayed themselves in splendid armour, with shield and sword and spear, and rode out to fight. The two armies stood around watching in hope and fear. At first the kings fought with their spears while riding upon their horses, then leaping to the ground they attacked each other fiercely with their swords. Both were strong, but Edmund was the taller. And Canute soon began to feel that he was being beaten. So, in a loud voice, he cried out, Why should we fight thus? Two kings as we should be brothers, not enemies. Let us stop fighting, and divide the kingdom, and be at peace.

Then King Edmund, throwing down his sword, held out his hands to Canute. Brother, he said, we will be kings together. So, once more, England was divided. Edmund Ironside, the Englishman, ruled over the south part, and Canute, the Dane, ruled over the north part, and there was peace in the land. But this did not last very long, for very soon Edmund died. Altogether, he had only reigned seven months, and much of that time had been spent in fighting, yet he had done more for his people than Ethelred had done in many years.

21 020 - Canute and the Waves 5:41

XXX.

Our Island Story by H. E. Marshall. Chapter 20 Canute and the Waves When Edmund Ironside died, Canute became king over all England, as it had been agreed between them that whoever lived the longest should have the whole kingdom. Edmund had two sons, and Canute was afraid that the people might wish to make one of them king, so he sent both to a far-off country called Hungary.

Perhaps it was wrong to banish these children, but at least it was better than killing them, as some people say he wanted to do. Canute did not begin by being a good king. At first he was bad and cruel, but he ended by being very good and wise. In fact, he seems to have ruled so well that the English came to love him almost as if he had been an English king.

They loved him, but they flattered him too. He was certainly a great king, for he ruled not only over England, but over Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. The nobles thought it pleased Canute to be told of his greatness, so they used often to let him hear them praise him.

One day, as they were walking upon the sea-shore, the nobles began, as usual, to tell Canute how powerful he was. "'All England obeys you,' they said. "'And not only England, but Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. Should you desire it, you need but command all the nations of the world, and they will kneel before you as their king and lord. You are king on sea and land. Even the waves obey you. Now this was foolish talk, and Canute, who was a wise man, did not like it. He thought he would teach these silly nobles a lesson, so he ordered his servants to bring a chair. When they had brought it, he made them set it on the shore, close to the waves. The servants did as they were told, and Canute sat down, while the nobles stood around him.

Then Canute spoke to the waves. "'Go back,' he said. "'I am your lord and master, and I command you not to flow over my land. Go back, and do not dare to wet my feet.' But the sea, of course, neither heard nor obeyed him. The tide was coming in, and the waves rolled nearer and nearer. Until the king's feet and robe were wet. Then Canute rose, and turning sternly to his nobles, said, Do you still tell me that I have power over the waves? O foolish men, do you not know that to God alone belongs such power? He alone rules earth and sky and sea, and we and they alike are his subjects, and must obey him. The nobles felt how foolish they had been, and did not again try to flatter Canute in such a silly way.

From that day, too, Canute never wore his crown, but placed it upon the figure of Christ in the Minster at Winchester, as a proof of his humility. From this story we learn that Canute was a Christian, although many of the Danes were still heathen, but no doubt they very soon followed the example of their king, and became Christians too.

Gradually, the differences between the Danes and the English passed away. The Danes began to forget that they had ever lived in any other country, and lived like Englishmen, taking English ways and customs for their own. So, once more, England became a united kingdom. But this, of course, did not happen all at once. It was many years before the English and the Danes quite forgot their quarrels.

As Canute had other countries to govern as well as England, he felt the need of some one to help him rule, so he divided England into four earldoms, and placed an earl over each part.

These earls ruled the kingdom under the king. Over the part, which was called Wessex, Canute placed a man named Godwin, who afterwards became of very great importance in English history. In the year 1035 a.d. King Canute died, and was buried in the Minster at Winchester. After him, his two sons, Harold Harefoot and Hardicanute, reigned. Neither of them was good, and, at the death of Hardicanute, the English were easily persuaded by Earl Godwin not to have any more Danish rulers. Following his advice, they chose Edward, the son of Æthelred the Unready, to be their king.

22 021 - Edward the Confessor 11:08

XXI.

Edward, the confessor.

You remember that, when the Danes invaded England in the time of Swain, Canute's father, Æthelred, who was then king, fled to France with his wife and children. After Æthelred's death, Edmund Ironside, one of his sons, became king, shared the kingdom with Canute, and died after a reign of only seven months. Edward, whom the English now chose to be king, was Edmund Ironside's brother, another son of King Æthelred, The Unready. Edward was a boy when he was first taken to Normandy, so, although he was English, he had lived all his life in Normandy, and he liked the Normans better than the English. He brought Norman friends over from France with him. The Norman language, Norman customs and fashions were soon heard and seen everywhere in England.

It had been greatly through the advice of Godwin, Earl of Wessex, that Edward had been chosen, and now the Earl was sorry when he found that the King seemed not to be English, but Norman. However, Godwin thought that an English wife might make Edward love England better, so he persuaded the King to marry his daughter, Edith. But although Edward married this beautiful and good lady, he never loved her. Indeed, although he was perhaps not really cruel to her, he was not kind, And he hardly ever even spoke to her. So she had no chance of making him love England better. The Normans, like the Danes, were very proud and haughty. And Edward's friends behaved so haughtily towards the English, that very soon they were hated, just as the Danes had been hated.

The hatred grew and grew, and at last it broke out into fighting. It happened that one of Edward's friends, called Eustace, Count of Boulogne was going back to France, after having visited the king. Like most of the Normans, Eustace was proud, and he and his company rowed into Dover, on their way to their ships, with jingling swords and clanking armour, making a great noise and stir, and behaving as if the whole town belonged to them. They went to the best houses, rudely demanding food and lodging. They entered the houses without leave, and took what they wanted without a word of thanks.

Now the English have ever been hospitable, but an Englishman's house is his castle. He will give freely, but he does not like to be bullied and robbed. So one brave man refused to allow the Normans to enter his house. Angry at that, a Norman soldier struck him in the face. The man returned the blow. It was enough. In a few minutes a fierce fight had begun, the Normans against the men of Dover. The Englishmen fought well. They were glad to have a chance of showing their dislike of the Normans. They beat them thoroughly, and drove them out of the town. Back to King Edward rode Count Eustace in furious rage. "'See!' he cried, bursting into the room where the King was. "'See how these Englishmen of yours have treated us.

They set upon us as we rode peaceably through Dover. They have killed twenty of my men, and I myself have barely escaped with my life. Is this the way to treat your friend and guest, my lord king?" Count Eustace, you see, did not tell the story truly. He did not tell King Edward that he and his men had begun the quarrel, and were to blame. King Edward was very angry with the English. He sent at once for Earl Godwin, as Dover was in his earldom. Godwin came, but when he heard the story of the fight he felt sure that the fault was not all on the side of the English. So when the king told him to take an army and go to punish the brave men of Dover, he refused. "'You have only heard one side of the story,' he said.

"'You have no right to blame or punish the Englishmen until you have heard what they have to say. I will not go.' King Edward was so angry at this that he banished Earl Godwin and his sons from the land, and gave their earldoms to other people. Then he shut Queen Edith up in a convent, because she was Godwin's daughter. Now there was no one to hinder the king from doing just as he wanted. He brought more people than ever from France, and among them came his cousin, the Duke of Normandy. William of Normandy only came for a visit, But many of the other nobles remained in England, and Edward gave them all the best places at court. William thought England was a very beautiful country, and before he went away he made Edward promise that he should be king next.

And Edward was so fond of his cousin that he promised. Of course Edward had no right to do this. He could not give away the crown of England to any one without the consent of the people. And certainly the people did not wish a Norman king. The kings of England had really no power to act in great matters without calling together a council of the nobles and wise men. The English had always been a free people, who had a share in governing themselves. Their kings had been kings, not tyrants. Nearly all the chief men at court were now normans, and the people longed for Godwin and his sons to return and free them from these hated strangers. At last they did return. Edward was angry when he heard that these banished men had come back without leave, but the people rejoiced, and flocked, to join the great earl, and it seemed as if there might be war.

But there was none. Earl Godwin was very clever, and somehow he forced the king to send away his Norman favorites, and put Englishmen in their places, without any fighting at all. The Frenchmen fled back to their own country, and things went better in England.

Soon after this, Earl Godwin died, and his son Harold took his place. During what remained of Edward's reign, it was really Harold who ruled, for the king was growing old and feeble. And Harold governed well, for love of England filled his heart. He even banished his own brother, Tostig, who was Earl of Northumbria, because he governed his earldom badly. This was a difficult thing for Harold to do, but although he loved his brother, he loved his country more, and when he had to choose between them, he chose his country. Now a very sad thing happened, which, together with Edward's foolish promise, made a great difference in the lives of the English people, and perhaps changed all our island story.

One day Harold was sailing upon the sea when a terrible storm arose. The sailors worked hard and tried to get into a safe port, but it was of no use. The masts were broken, the sails torn away, the ship drifted helplessly, and at last was dashed to pieces on the rocky coast of Normandy. Harold and some of the sailors escaped drowning, but they fell into the hands of Duke William. Now, Duke William had never forgotten what a beautiful country England was, and he still hoped to be its king. He knew that Harold was a very great man in England, and he was glad to have him in his power. Duke William pretended to treat Harold very kindly, but he really kept him prisoner. He would not let him go home, until he promised to help him to become king when Edward died.

At last Harold promised. Now, of course, Harold had no more right to do this than Edward had. But there was more excuse for Harold than for Edward, because the king was a free man in his own country, while Harold was a prisoner in a foreign country, and to make this promise was his only hope of freedom. We must blame Harold for making a promise which he did not mean to keep, but we must blame William Moore for forcing him to make it, as he took a mean advantage of a helpless prisoner. Harold went back home, glad to be free, but sad at heart at the remembrance of what William had forced him to do, and hating the Normans more than ever.

Very soon after this, on the 5th of January, 1066 A.D., King Edward died. He was buried with great pomp and ceremony in the Grand New Church at Westminster, which he had built, and which had been finished only a few days before.

King Edward, on the whole, was a good king, but he had not those things in him which make a great king. He was gentle and pious, and after his death people began to think that he was really a holy man, and called him Edward the Confessor, by which name we remember him in history. If his reign was a happy one for England, it was partly because the great Earl Godwin, and his noble son Harald were so powerful that they forced the king to act justly. Edward did not feel, as all great kings must feel, that they are put in their high position not to please themselves, but to do what is best for their people. Edward did not love his people, and he pleased himself by bringing his proud Norman friends from France, and by giving them all the chief posts in England.

He thought more about building churches and buying relics or bones of holy men, long since dead, than of strengthening his castles and trying to make the lives of his people peaceful and happy. This, and his foolish promise to his cousin, Duke William of Normandy, brought great sorrow upon the country.

on June 2, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

23 022 - Harold 13:18

E. Marshall. CHAPTER XXII. HAROLD.

When Edward the confessor died, the people chose Harold Godwin to be their king, although he was not the real heir to the throne. The real heir was Edgar Aetheling, Edward's grand-nephew and grandson of Edmund Ironside, that king who had such a short and troubled reign, and who fought so bravely against Canute the Dane. But Edgar Aetheling was only a little boy. It seemed to the people as if he was not even an English boy, because he had lived all his life in a far-off country called Hungary, to which Canute had banished his father, and had come to England only a few months before Edward, his granduncle, had died. He did not understand the English language, nor English ways, so nearly all the people looked upon him as a stranger.

They were very tired of the strangers and foreigners with whom Edward had filled his court, And so they said, Let us have a real Englishman to rule over us, and one who is brave and wise.

They knew Harold was brave, for he had already led them many times in battle. They knew that he was wise, because Edward, during the last years of his life, had been very ill and weak, and had allowed Harold to rule for him. And above all they knew Harold bitterly hated Edward's friends, the Norman nobles, And they were sure he would drive them out of the country. But they did not know what was perhaps Harold's chief reason for hating the Normans. They did not know that he had promised the crown of England to the most powerful of them all, William, Duke of Normandy.

So it came about that the day after Edward the Confessor was buried, the people crowded again to the grand new church at Westminster. This time they came to see the new king crowned. The church was filled with the nobles and the great people of the land. Outside, the common folk, and those who could not get inside, waited, impatient to know what was happening. It was in the beginning of January, and the weather was bitterly cold, but the people did not seem to mind that, so eager were they to see their new king as he passed. Although the wind blew keenly from the north, the sky was blue, And the winter sun shone brightly on the gay colours of their holiday clothes, making the gold ornaments of the women, and the helmets and shields of the soldiers, glitter and sparkle.

The day before the streets had been full of grave and mourning crowds, sorrowing for the death of their king. This day there was no mourning. Everything seemed joyful and glad, and hope shone in the faces of all. Only here and there in the crowd could be seen a few scowling normans, but they soon slunk away, afraid of the fierce looks and angry words with which the Saxons greeted them.

Within the church all was solemn and quiet. After earnest prayer to God, the Archbishop of York, holding the crown in his hand, turned to the people. Harold knelt humbly at the steps of the high altar, While a breathless hush filled the great church from end to end. Then, in the silence, the voice of the old archbishop rang out clear and sharp. Do you choose Harold, Earl of Wessex, son of Godwin, to be your king?

Like the thunder of the waves as they break upon the beach came the answer, We do, we do! The words sounded again and again through the aisles of the great church, echoing and re-echoing from the vaulted roof, till it seemed as if all England had answered. Outside the church the people took up the cry, Harold, son of Godwin! Harold, son of Godwin! Harold, the Englishman for our King!

In the silence which followed, Harold placed his hands between those of the archbishop, and promised to fear God, to rule wisely, and to keep the laws of the land. Then the archbishop, speaking solemn words, anointed him with holy oil, placed the crown of England upon his head, and the sceptre in his hand.

Harold rose from his knees, no longer Earl of Wessex, but King of England. As he turned to the people he looked so brave, handsome, and kingly, that a cry of love and gratitude rose from them, And once again the arches of the great church rang with shouts.

One after another the lords and mighty men of England passed before their king. They knelt to him, promising to be true to him, to fight for and obey him, just as he had promised them that he would try to rule well and be a good king.

At last the solemn ceremony was over. Harold passed down the long aisles, followed by the archbishop and bishops in their splendid robes, and the lords and knights in their shining armour. Out of the dim church into the open air they went, out into the sunshine where the people were waiting for their king. When Harold appeared, wearing the crown and royal robes, and carrying the sceptre in his hand, they shouted and cheered again and again for joy. Harold for ever! Harold the King! they cried. So Harold was crowned, and all England was glad, and at peace. But the peace and gladness did not last long. As soon as Harold was crowned, the few Normans who still remained in England fled to Normandy.

They went to Rouen, the town in Normandy where Duke William lived.

Nowadays, if one wants to speak to a king or great prince, it is not always easy, for soldiers and servants guard the doors. But in those days it was much more easy, so one of these Normans who fled from England went to find Duke William, for he knew he had great news to tell. William was out hunting when this messenger from England arrived. He was so eager to tell the news that he could not wait until the Duke returned, but followed him into the park. He searched about for some time, and at last saw William riding towards him, surrounded by all his lords and ladies, his falcon on his wrist, and his bow in his hand.

The Duke looked so splendid and powerful that the messenger was almost afraid to tell the news he brought. "'My lord,' he said, dropping on his knees, "'Edward, King of England, is dead.' Duke William's bright eyes shone with joy. "'Ah!' he exclaimed. "'And Harold, son of Godwin, is crowned king in his stead,' went on the man.

Then Duke William's eyes flashed fire. His bow dropped from his hand. His face grew red and dark with anger. "'The Saxon Dog! The Oath-breaker!' he thundered. in a voice which made those who heard him tremble. Then he was silent, and those around him were silent too, trembling in fear before the awful wrath of their lord.

For many minutes William sat in dumb rage, clasping and unclasping the rich cloak which fell from his shoulders. Then, still without uttering a word, he turned and rode back to his palace. He seemed neither to see nor hear anything, But throwing himself on a couch, he buried his face in his cloak, and gave himself up to angry thoughts.

His courtiers stood round, whispering and frightened.

At last one, more bold than the others, went up to him, and laying his hand upon the duke's shoulder, "'Rouse yourself, my lord,' he said. "'You have a message to send to Harold Godwinson, before the common folk hear how he has insulted you.' "'Ay, that I have,' said William fiercely. Then he called for the man who had brought the news. He came in fear and trembling, but William only looked darkly at him. "'Go,' he said, after a pause. "'Go back to England. Tell Harold Godwinson,' he would not call him King Harold, "'that I, William of Normandy, demand the crown and throne of England. Tell him?' If he will not give it peaceably, then I will come and take it by force." So the messenger returned to England, and came to Harold as he was sitting in state surrounded by his lords and nobles.

Harold listened quietly to the message. Then in a clear and calm voice he replied, "'Go tell your master that the crown and throne of England are not mine to give and take at will.' Tell him that the people of England have given them to me in trust, and that while I live I will keep and guard them as best I can. Let William of Normandy beware.

When the messenger returned to Rouen with this message, William's anger was terrible. At first he could neither speak nor think for rage, but soon he recovered himself and called all his lords together. He asked them to go with him over the sea, To help him fight Harold, and make himself king of England. But his lords and nobles refused. It is a very dangerous thing to do, they said. These English are a great and brave people. They will kill us all. We will not go.

Although William was lord over these men, he could not force them to go across the sea with him. He could only ask them to go. He was very angry with them for refusing, so he broke up the council, and sent all the nobles away. Then he made each one come to him alone, and tried to persuade them, one by one, to go with him over the sea to England. But it was of no use. One after another they refused. "'It is all very well for you,' they said. "'If you win, you will have the crown of England. But as for us, those of us who are not killed—' will return poorer than before. We will not go." Then Duke Williams said, "'If you will only come with me, I will give you fair lands, strong castles, and great stores of money.

England is a rich country, and when I have conquered the people, I will take their lands and money away from them, and give them to you.' Then all the nobles answered, "'We will go.' After that they went to their own homes to gather their soldiers together, and to prepare armour and weapons for battle. But William was not content with the soldiers which his own Norman nobles had promised. He sent messengers into all parts of France, with the promise of land and money as reward, to every one who would come to fight for him. Very many came. From far and near they flocked to the court of William, Glad at the thought of possessing the green fields and broad forest lands of England. But William had not ships enough to carry so large a company over the sea, so he bought ships, and made people build them for him, paying sometimes with money, sometimes with promises of English land.

Never was such a wonderful army and so great a fleet gathered together in so short a time. But William was a great leader. He was fierce, strong, and determined. He had set his heart on being King of England, and King of England he meant to be. So, night and day, he planned and worked, persuading and forcing people in one way or another to help him.

on June 1, 2020. 2006, in Oceanside, California.

24 023 - The Battle of Stamford Bridge 12:08

E. Marshall. Chapter 23. The Battle of Stamford Bridge.

Meanwhile, Harold was ruling England quietly and well. The people loved him, and were glad they had chosen such a brave and generous man to rule over them. Harold was kind to everyone, but he was specially kind to Edgar Aetheling. He knew that it would have been a very bad thing for England, had the people chosen an ignorant little boy as king, yet he felt sorry for Edgar, and tried to make him grow into a brave and honest English boy. Harold kept the good laws which had been made before the time of Edward, and altered the unjust ones. He was always thinking of the happiness of his people, and the good of his country. Often and often he looked anxiously across the blue sea to the shores of France, watching for the white sails of Duke William's ships.

Months passed. And still they did not appear. But Harold knew that one day they would come, although William sent no more messages. Harold's friends crossed the sea to find out what the great Duke was doing. They brought back news of the mighty army which was gathering on the shores of the river Dive. So Harold watched and waited, and he too gathered together men and horses, swords and armour. Often King Harald sighed to see that there were no strong castles and fortresses to guard the shores of his dear land. For Edward, instead of building ships and castles to keep the country safe from enemies, had spent his people's money in building great churches, and in buying the bones of holy men who had lived and died long, long ago.

These bones, he foolishly thought, would keep wicked men away from his shores. One day, while Harald watched and waited for the coming of William, a messenger all breathless arrived from the north. He was covered with dust, and worn and tired with long travelling. He burst into the room, where the king sat, and threw himself on his knees. "'My lord and king,' he cried, "'Tostig, thy brother, and Harald Hardrada, king of Norway, have landed in the north with a mighty army of heathen folk. They have defeated Earl Morcar. They have taken York. They slay and burn without mercy. Through fear, many of thy subjects have joined the banner of Tostig. Now they are making ready to march south to take London, and Harald Hardrada of Norway will be master of all England.

Then the messenger was silent, fainting for weariness and lack of food. This news made Harald very sorry. Tustig was his brother, and he did not wish to fight against his own brother. But for the sake of England he knew that he must. For Harold loved England better than all the world. It is said that, after he was dead, people found the word England printed on his breast just over his heart. But whether that is true or not, this is true, that Harold held England in his heart and in his thoughts, and always tried to do what was best for his country. So now Harold gathered all his own soldiers, or huscarls, as they were called, and set out for Yorkshire to meet the enemy. At this time England had not a great army as it has now, ready at all times for battle.

The king only kept a few soldiers always near him. They were called his huscarls, or his body-guard, as their duty was to guard his house when he was at home, and his person wherever he went. The rest of the soldiers were the servants of the great nobles and rich merchants. Whenever the king had need of them, he used to call them together, and when the fighting was over they went back again to their own homes, and to their own masters.

Harold had called these men together to be ready for William, but as months passed, And the dreadful Duke did not come. They grew tired of waiting, and went home. For by this time it was autumn. The fields were yellow with the ripe grain, and the orchards were laden with fruit. So the men who had come to fight went home again to gather the fruit, and cut the corn before the winter set in.

But hardly had they gone when the messenger came with the terrible news from Yorkshire. Harold did not stop to gather his army together again, but set out as quickly as he could with the few soldiers he had. As he rode northward, he looked back with many a sigh. He looked across the blue waters which separated him from Duke William, straining his eyes anxiously. But there was no sign of a sail. "'Please God,' he murmured, "'I may yet return in time to meet the Norman wolf.' In those days the roads were very bad. Some of them were only tracks worn by the feet of horses. There was no means either of going from place to place except by walking or riding. But there was one great road which the Romans had made long, long before.

This stretched all the way from York to London. Harold was so clever that in a few days he brought his little army along this road from the very south to the middle of England. By the twenty-fourth of September he had arrived at York. On the twenty-fifth, a great battle was fought at a place near there, called Stamford Bridge. In memory of that great fight, it was afterwards called Battle Bridge.

Before the fighting began, the two armies stood facing each other. Up and down the lines of the Norwegian army rode a very tall man on a lovely black horse. He was dressed in splendid steel armour, and a beautiful blue cloak hung from his shoulders. As he rode, his horse stumbled and fell, and the tall man was thrown to the ground. He sprang up again with a laugh. "'Oh,' he said, "'a fall means good luck to a traveller.' But Harald, who had been watching, turned to some one beside him. "'Who is that tall man, with the blue cloak and beautiful helmet?' he asked. "'That is Harald Hardrada, King of Norway,' was the reply. "'He has had a fall,' said Harald of England. "'That means bad luck to him.' "'One side, you see, thought it was good luck, and the other thought it was bad, although really, of course, it made no difference one way or another.' But in those days people were very superstitious.

That is, they found a meaning in things that had no meaning at all.

Harald of England looked sadly along the lines of the army opposite. He was looking for the banner of his brother Tostig. When he saw it, he rode, almost alone, right up to the Norwegian army. His men looked on in surprise and fear as he rode so near the enemy. attended only by a few nights. When he was quite close to them, he stopped his horse and called out, "'Is Earl Tostig, son of Godwin, in this army?' Tostig himself answered, "'Yes. What want you with him?' and he rode out to meet the king. Although Tostig's face was hidden by his helmet, King Harald knew his brother's voice. So his tone was kind and gentle as he answered, "'Your brother, King Harald, sends you greeting. He does not wish to fight against you.

If you will send away these soldiers, he will forgive you all the wrong you have done, and he will give you the earldom of Northumbria once more.' "'And if I accept his offer,' said Tostig, "'what will he give to my friend Harald Hadrada?' King Harald's voice grew stern as he answered. He shall have seven feet of English ground for a grave, or a little more, perhaps, as he is so much taller than other men. "'Then,' said the earl, "'go and tell King Harald to get ready for battle, for it shall never be said that Tostig brought his friend to England to betray him.' Then the brothers parted, sad and angry, each riding back to his own side. "'Who was that fine man with whom you have been speaking?' asked Harald Hardrada, as Tostick came back.

"'That was King Harald of England,' replied the earl. "'Why did you not tell me?' said the king. "'He was so near—so near death, for had I known who he was, he would never have gone back to his own people.' But although Tostick was a wild, wicked man, he was not altogether bad. He looked sadly at King Harald Hardrada, and said, "'He came to offer me peace and forgiveness. He is my brother, though my enemy. Had I betrayed him to you, I should have been not only his foe, but his murderer.' Then it seemed as if Harald Hardrada was ashamed. Soon the battle began. Harald Hardrada rode in front, singing a loud battle-song. Advance, advance, no helmets glance, but blue swords play in our array. Advance, advance, no mail-coats glance, but hearts are here that ne'er knew fear.

He sang that because these Northmen, as they were called, often fought in their shirts, and wore no armour or protection of any kind. So they got the name of berserkers, and in Scotland to this day the word Sark is used to mean shirt. The fight was fierce and long. Sometimes it seemed as if the English would win, sometimes the Northmen. In the very thickest of the fight rode the two kings, each cheering on his men.

When battle-storm was ringing, where Arrow-Cloud was singing, Harold stood there, of armor bare, his deadly sword still swinging. The foeman felt its bite, His horsemen rush to fight, danger to share, with Harald there, where steel on steel was ringing.

But at last both Earl Tostig and King Harald Hardrada were killed, and their soldiers fled in all directions. King Harald of England was very kind to those who were not killed. He did not take them prisoners, but allowed them to go away with their ships to their own country. Having first made them promise never to fight against England again.

25 024 - The Battle of Hastings 12:28

E. Marshall. Chapter 24. The Battle of Hastings.

While these things were happening in York, the great Duke had finished his preparations. He had gathered together his huge army and his mighty fleet of ships. The wind blew fair from the coast of France, and he set sail for England. Over the blue sea they came, the white-sailed vessels crowded with knights in armor, champing war-horses, bowmen and spearmen. Such an army had seldom before been seen. Duke William's vessel was the gayest and proudest of them all. The sails were crimson, the deck and masts were gaily painted.

A golden boy was on the prow, leaning forward as if to catch the first glimpse of England. By day the proud banner, embroidered with the three golden lions of Normandy, fluttered in the breeze. By night a crescent of light shone from the masthead, so that all could see their lord's ship and follow where he led. On they came, day and night, till, with a shout, they greeted the shores of England.

No army was awaiting them. King Harald, who had for so many months watched anxiously for their coming, was far away fighting another foe. And when at last the white sails glimmered in the distance, only the frightened fisherfolk stood upon the shore watching, and the peasants fled in fear to hide.

On came the Duke's fleet, till the vessels touched the shore. Duke William was the first to spring to land, but as he did so he stumbled and fell. "'Alas! what bad luck!' cried the soldiers around him. But William sprang up with a laugh, and turning to them showed his hands full of earth. "'See!' he cried. "'I have already taken hold of my kingdom.' Then a soldier, who had sprung ashore after the Duke, ran to a cottage, and, tearing from it some thatch, said, "'Take hold not only of England, but of what England holds.' "'I accept it,' said the Duke. "'May God be with us.' Soon the whole army landed. The Duke then caused all the ships to be sunk or pulled far up the shore, so that they could not be put out to sea again.

For, he said, we will either conquer or die. We will never return to Normandy disgraced.

Now, after the Battle of Stamford Bridge, while Harold and his men were resting in York before going southward again, The clatter of horses' hoofs was heard at the castle gate, and in a few minutes a breathless messenger flung himself at the king's feet. "'My lord!' he cried. "'My lord, William of Normandy has landed in England. I myself have seen him. He has come with a great and fierce host, and is laying waste to all the land. I have not rested night nor day, but have hasted with the tidings.' This was very terrible news. Harold's men were wounded and weary with fighting, but before an hour had passed, he and they were again on the great Roman road, marching southward.

As he went, King Harold sent messages into all the country, calling the soldiers together. From every side they came to him, for they loved their king and country.

Harold had done a very wonderful thing when he marched his men north in so short a time. Now he did an even more wonderful thing when he brought them back again, for it is said that he arrived in London on the sixth of October, and they had to ride and walk all the way from York, which they only left on the twenty-seventh of September.

Here in London they rested a few days until more soldiers were gathered together. And here Gurth his brother, tried to make Harold remain behind, and let him go forward with the army to meet William. "'It will not matter so much if I am killed,' he said. "'And besides, I have made no promises to William, so I can fight him better.' "'Then you must burn all the houses, cut down the trees, and lay waste to the cornfields between here and the sea-coast.' so that if I cannot keep William back, he will find no food nor shelter for his army when he arrives.

But Harold looked proudly at his brother. "'I am the king,' he said. "'I will never harm an English village nor an English house. I will never harm the goods nor lands of any Englishman. How can I hurt the people who are given me to rule?' So once more the king set out at the head of his army. And on the 12th of October they arrived in sight of the Normans, who had camped near Hastings, on the south coast.

Harold camped on the hill called Senlac, and there it was that the battle took place. And from the names of the two camps the battle is sometimes called Hastings, sometimes Senlac.

The English army was not nearly so large as the Norman, But Harold chose a very good place on the top of a hill. He also built a strong fence all round his camp. When the battle began, the first person who had advanced from the Norman side was not a soldier, but a minstrel or singer, called Taillefer. He rode out from the ranks, gaily dressed. He was tall and handsome, and had a laughing, merry face. On he came, riding not as if in battle. But as if in play. His horse capered and pranced while he whirled his sword, throwing it high into the air and catching it again and again. And as he so rode and played, he sang. The song he sang was an old song of France, telling of the wonderful deeds of the great hero, Roland.

It stirred the hearts of the Frenchmen, making them eager to fight and conquer. So, led by their minstrel, the whole army took up the song, and as they marched, the air was full of the music of men's voices.

O, Roland, sound your ivory horn! To the ear of Karl shall the blast be borne. He will bid his legions backward bend, and all his barons their aid will lend. Now God forbid it, for very shame, that for me my kindred were stained with blame. Or that gentle France to such vileness fell. This good sword that hath served me well, my Durindana such strokes shall deal, that with blood encrimson'd shall be the steel. By their evil star are the felons led. They shall all be numbered among the dead.

Telifer whirled his sword, struck a mighty blow, and the first Englishman fell dead. I will not sound on mine ivory horn. It shall never be spoken of me in scorn that for heathen felons one blast I blew. I may not dishonour my lineage true, but I will strike ere this fight be o'er a thousand strokes and seven hundred more, and my Durandana shall drip with gore. Our Franks will bear them like vassals brave, the Saracens flock but to find a grave.

Again the sword of Telifer flashed in the sunlight, and again an Englishman lay dead. It seemed as if he rode alone to defy the whole English army, but behind him marched a mighty host singing.

God and his angels of heaven defend that France through me from her glory bend. Death were better than fame laid low. Our emperor loveth a downright blow. Then the singer's voice was dumb, for an English sword flashed, and the bright blade was buried in his heart. But over his dead body swept the host, still singing. Then from the Franks resounded high, Mon joy! Whoever had heard that cry would hold remembrance of chivalry. Then ride they, how proudly, O God, they ride, with rowels dashed in their courser's side. Fearless, too, are their paynim foes. Franks and Saracens, thus, they close.

So the fight began. And all through the long day it raged. Sometimes it seemed as if one side would win, sometimes as if the other.

Once a cry went through the Norman ranks that Duke William was killed. Hearing that, they would have fled, but Duke William rode among them, bare-headed, calling to them and cheering them on. And when the Normans saw their great Duke's face, they took heart, and turned once more to the fight.

As the day drew to an end, it was seen, alas, that the English were beaten. They gathered close around their king and his standard, fighting fiercely and bravely to the last.

And when Harold fell, pierced with an arrow, his brave knights fought still over his dead body. But when night came, all the bravest and the best men of England lay with their king, dead upon the field.

The splendid standard of Harald was torn, bloodstained and trampled in the dust, and the three lions of Normandy, fluttering in the cold autumn wind, kept watch over the dead.

William came o'er the sea, with bloody sword came he. Cold heart and bloody hand now rule the English land.

King Harald was buried on the sea-shore, not far from where he fell. Even William, fierce and cruel though he was, must have felt some pity for the man who had fought so bravely for his country. "'Let him lie by the seashore,' he said. "'He guarded it well while he lived. Let him still guard it in death.' So, wrapped in a purple robe, as befits a king, they buried him by the sounding sea, beneath the great arch of heaven.

Over his grave William caused a stone to be placed. Upon it, in Latin, were engraved the words, Here lies Harold, the unhappy. But after many years the body was removed to Waltham Abbey, which Harold himself had founded. On the spot where Harold fell, William of Normandy, perhaps in sorrow and remorse, built another great abbey, which he called Battle Abbey. And the remains of both may be seen to this day.

So died Harold, the last of the English kings. He had reigned only nine months, and died fighting for the freedom of his people and his country, on Saturday, October 15th, 1066.

26 025 - William the Conqueror 11:35

XXV.

WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR The Story of Heriward the Wake William of Normandy had won the Battle of Hastings, but he had not won England. Harold was dead, but the people would not call William king. For five days after the battle he waited, expecting the English lords to come to do homage to him as their new master. But not one came. The people were full of grief and anger at the death of Harold, and of sullen hate for the conqueror. They would not own him as king. After five days William waited no longer. More soldiers had come from Normandy to replace those who had been killed at the Battle of Hastings. With these new soldiers William marched through the land, and so fierce and terrible was he that he forced the people to own him as king.

By December all the south of England was in William's power, and on Christmas Day he was crowned at Westminster. Scarcely a year before the people had crowded to the same place to see Harold, and to cheer and welcome him as their king. Now all was changed. The people were sullen and silent, the way was lined with Norman soldiers, and Norman faces and Norman costumes were everywhere to be seen.

Stigand, the archbishop who had crowned Harold, refused to crown William, and William in wrath retorted that he was no true bishop, and that he did not wish to be crowned by him. Yet William forced Stigand to be present at the coronation. Once again, as so short a time before, the voice of the bishop rang through the great church. "'Do you take William of Normandy to be your king?' Once again the answer came, "'We do.' But this time the question was asked and answered in French, and the English voices were silent. So the question was asked again in English, and the answer came from unwilling English lips, but not from English hearts. "'We do.' Then an echoing cry was heard without, Not the shout of a glad people, but a cry of agony and despair.

The Norman soldiers, instead of keeping order, had begun to fight and kill. They had set fire to the houses near the church, and were slaying and robbing. Those within the church rushed out, some in fear, others eager to join the robbers. William was left alone with only the bishops and the priests.

Then, for the first time in his life, the great William was afraid. Through the windows of the church he could see the flicker of flames, and could hear the savage yells of soldiers, and the shrieks of frightened women and children. Yet he did not know whether the English had risen in revolt, or whether it was only his own wild soldiers who were attacking the people.

But, whatever it might be, William meant to be king of England. A king, crowned and anointed. So, although his cheek was pale and his voice shook, he forced the archbishop to go on with the ceremony. With trembling hands, the archbishop placed the crown upon William's head. Not Harold's crown, but a new one, glittering with splendid gems. And in a hurried and mumbling voice he finished the service. Then William, kneeling at the altar, promised to fear God, to rule the people well, and to keep the laws of Alfred and Edward, so that the people be true to me," he added. As he stood up, no shout greeted him. The church was silent and empty. He passed down the aisle in lonely splendour, followed only by the trembling priests, while without was heard the sound of the crackling flames mingled with fierce yells and curses.

William was crowned, but the English rejected him as king. They wanted an English king. But, alas, there was no strong man whom they could choose. Harold's brave brothers had all died with him at Hastings. There, too, had fallen the noblest and the best of the English lords. There was no one left who seemed to have any right to the throne, except the little boy, Edgar Aetheling, Edmund Ironside's grandson. Even he did not seem to be English, for he had lived nearly all his life in Hungary, and could hardly speak his own language. But at least he was not Norman, so the English chose him to be king. The people of Northumberland rose in fierce rebellion against William, and he, in as fierce anger, marched against them with his soldiers.

From north to south he laid waste to the country, burning towns, destroying farms, Killing cattle, murdering the people, till the whole of Northumberland was one dreary desert.

So fierce and terrible was his wrath, that even the ploughs and farming tools were destroyed, and the land lay untilled and desolate. Those of the people who were not killed in battle died miserably of cold and hunger. When William marched south again, he left only blackened ruins, and dismal waste, where happy homes and smiling fields had been.

From very need, most of the English lords now bowed to William, and owned him master. Even Edgar came to him to do homage, and strange to say William treated him kindly. Perhaps he felt that he was so strong, and Edgar so weak, that he had no need to fear him.

Still, the English were not all conquered.

In the Isle of Ellai, in what is called the Fenn country, the people made one last stand. There, under the leadership of a brave Englishman called Heriward, they held out against William. In the time of Edward the Confessor, Heriward had been banished for some reason, perhaps because he had quarrelled with one of Edward's Norman friends. He had lived for many years across the sea in a country called Flanders. But when he heard that Edward was dead, that Harold was also dead, and that William the Norman had seized the crown of England, Harroward came back determined to fight for his own land.

All the noblest and bravest of the English, who still resisted William, gathered to Harroward, and they made their camp in the Isle of Elie. The monks who already lived there shared their monastery with the soldiers. So in the great hall, peaceful monks and warlike men sat side by side at meals, and the walls, which had been hung with holy relics and pictures of saints, were now covered with weapons and armour.

Harroward built a castle at Eli, but it was a wooden one, while all through England the Normans were building strong fortresses of stone, such as the English had never seen before. Harroward hoped that, from his castle at Elly, he would gradually win all England again. But the hope was vain, for William was too strong. Yet it took him a long time to conquer Harroward. Like Harrold, Harroward was a good general, and he was both clever and brave. After trying vainly to find a way through the marshes and fens to Harroward's camp, William decided at last to build a road strong enough and broad enough to carry his army over. So the soldiers set to work at once with stones, wood, and skins of animals, to make a strong, broad, solid road.

When it was finished, William's men marched over it to attack Harroward's men in their own camp, but the English fought desperately, and the Normans were driven back. In those days people believed in witches. So William next found a poor old woman who was supposed to be a witch. He built a wooden tower, placed it on wheels, and, with the witch inside, pushed it along the road, at the head of the Norman army. This poor old woman was meant to cast a spell over the English soldiers, so that they would not be able to fight any more. Of course, she could really do them no harm, And Harroward and his men captured the tower and burned it up, which and all. Again William had failed.

Harroward had brought large stores of food into the camp, and he and his men hunted wild animals, so that there was always enough to eat, although the fare was plain. But the monks, who were used to living a very easy life, and to having fine things to eat and drink, grew tired of fighting and of plain food. And they sent a message to William, telling him of a secret way through the fens to the camp. So Heriward, who could not be conquered, was betrayed.

One evening, the Norman soldiers, led by the wicked monks, came stealthily through the thick woods among the marshes. In the gathering dusk, they came creeping, silent and eager. Then, when they were close upon the camp, They burst with wild cries upon the unsuspecting English, and, when the sun had set, the sky was red with the flames from burning English homes.

Many lay dead. Many were taken prisoners. To the prisoners William was very cruel. He put out their eyes, cut off their hands, and treated them so dreadfully that they cried aloud, It is better to fall into the hands of God than into those of the Norman tyrant.

Heriard escaped, and with some of his bravest followers continued to fight, although all hope of freedom for England was gone. But he, too, yielded at length, and bowed his proud head to the conqueror. William of Normandy was at last master of all England. He was, indeed, William. THE CONQUERER.

27 026 - Death of the King 7:47

William the Conqueror. The Death of the King William was ruler of the land, but English hearts never accepted him. Norman and Englishmen lived side by side, yet a wide sea of hatred kept them apart. As he had promised, William rewarded the Norman barons and nobles who had helped him to conquer England. He gave them the lands and goods of the conquered people, So it was not wonderful that there was fierce hatred between the two races. The Normans were greedy, and they not only took the lands which William gave them, but they forced the English to pay large sums of money, too. Every high position was filled by Normans, and the English were forced to be the servants and slaves of these proud Norman masters.

The Normans talked a great deal of right. But the more they talked of right, the more wrong they did. The very sheriffs and judges, who ought to have seen that the laws were kept, and that justice was done, were more greedy than thieves and robbers, and the king was greediest of all. He made the people pay tolls and taxes until they had hardly any money left. Much of this money he took away with him to France. Much he kept locked up in his strong treasure-room. As if he had not already spoiled enough of the country in battle, William Next laid waste a great part in the South, simply because he was very fond of hunting, and he wanted a good hunting ground. He turned the people out of their houses, burning and ruining whole villages in order to make a great place in which to ride and hunt.

He called this place the New Forest, and it is so called to this day. Having made this forest, William also made forest laws. These laws were very cruel. If any person was found hunting or killing the deer or other wild animals, his eyes were put out, or his hands and ears were cut off. So the poor people who had been driven from their homes dared not even kill the wild animals for food. William did not do much that was kind, but some things which he did were wise. Among the wise things was the law which he made, that all lights and fires must be put out at eight o'clock at night. Nowadays we should think it very hard indeed if all fires and lights had to be put out at eight o'clock. But in those days people used to rise very early, and go to bed very early, so that it was not a great hardship.

It was really a wise rule, because nearly all the houses were built of wood, And if people were careless and went to bed leaving large fires burning, the houses were apt to catch fire. In a town all built of wood, if one house caught fire, sometimes a whole street would be burned to the ground before the fire could be put out.

By this wise law, William made the danger of fires much less. Every night at eight o'clock a bell was rung. This bell was called the curfew, from the French words Cover-feu, which means, cover fire.

Another wise thing which William did was to make what is called the Doomsday Book, or Book of Judgment. This was a very big book in which a description of all the great houses and lands in the kingdom was written down, with the names of the people to whom the land and houses belonged. This book was very useful at the time, and it has been very useful since. For one thing, it shows us how much land was taken from the English and given to the Normans.

When William gave the Normans land, he did not give it to them for nothing. In return, they had to promise to come to help the king in battle, and to bring men with them. The more land they got, the more men they had to promise to provide in time of war. When William wished to know how many men a certain lord would bring to fight for him, He only needed to look at his great book to see how much land he had. This plan of paying for land by fighting was called the feudal system, and it lasted in England for many years. William spent a great deal of time in Normandy, for though he was proud to be king of England, he loved his Norman home far better. It was in Normandy that he died.

William had been fighting with the king of France, and with his usual cruelty, He had burned a town belonging to that king. While William was riding about among the ruins, his horse stepped upon some hot ashes, stumbled, and he was thrown to the ground. William was by this time very fat and old, and the fall hurt him so much that in a few days he died.

Only two of William's sons were with him at the time. Robert, the eldest, had quarrelled with his father long before, and was far away. But as he lay dying, William wished to be at peace with every one. He forgave Robert, and left the crown of Normandy to him.

And, he said, although the crown of England is not mine to give away, I should like William to have it.

And the son, eager to claim his father's crown, seized the great signet-ring which the dying king still wore, and drew it from his finger. To Henry, his youngest son, William left a large sum of money.

Then William and Henry hurried off to England, the one to demand the crown, the other to make sure of his treasure. The great conqueror was left to die alone.

A strange thing happened while William was being buried. Fire broke out in the streets, just as it had done when he was being crowned. The people who were carrying the bier fled.

So, once more, the conqueror was left alone with a few priests. They would have buried him hurriedly, but, as they began the service, a young man stepped forward and stopped them. "'This ground,' he said, "'Was taken from my father by the very king whom you now wish to bury here. He has no right to this land. It is mine, not his. I refuse to allow him to be buried in it.' So even in death the conqueror was to find no resting-place. But the priests bargained with the young man, and at last, for the sum of sixty shillings, he allowed them to bury the king in his ground. And there the conqueror—' was at last laid to rest.

On June 1, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

28 027 - William the Red 6:52

E. Marshall. Chapter 27. The Story of William the Red.

William Rufus, or the red, as he was called, from the colour of his hair, took the ring from his father's hand, and hurried off to seize the throne of England, without waiting even till the conqueror should die. In little more than a fortnight, the crown was upon the head of William Rufus, and England had another Norman king. But even the Norman nobles were not pleased with their new king. The conqueror had ruled them with an iron hand, and they had hoped, when he was dead, to have some one who would be less severe. They wanted Robert, the eldest son of William the Conqueror, because they knew that he was much less harsh than William, and they thought that they would be able to do what they liked if Robert were king.

So they rebelled against William the Red, and asked Robert to come to England to fight for the crown. Now the English hated to have a Norman king, but they hated the Norman nobles even more. Although William the Red was Norman, he had lived in England ever since he had been about six years old. He could speak English, which the conqueror could never learn to do, and which the confessor had never cared to do. So William the Red appealed to the English people. He said to them, "'If you stand by me and fight for me, I will reward you.' I will take away some of the heavy taxes, I will give you more liberty, and I will not allow the Norman barons to oppress you. So the English people fought for their Norman king, and they beat the Norman nobles.

Robert was obliged to fly back to France, and William the Red, with the help of the English people, sat safely on the English throne. But as soon as he was safe, William forgot about his promises. He oppressed the people as much as ever, and they were almost more unhappy than they had been in the time of his father.

The Red King was wicked and greedy. He stole money from everyone, even from the churches, and spent it on his own pleasure. Little good can be said of him except that he was fearless. Still, when he was ill and thought he might die, he became frightened because of the wicked things he had done, and promised to do better.

But as soon as he was well again, he forgot his fears, and was as wicked as before. He was not truly a brave man, and he was very cruel. One day William the Red went to hunt with his friends in the new forest, that forest which his father had made by destroying so many villages. Before the hunting party started, A man came to the king and gave him six beautiful new arrows. The king admired them very much, and he gave one of them to his friend, Walter Tyrrell, who was a very good shot, saying, "'The best arrows should be given to him who knows best how to use them.'" It was a gay scene. The king, in his rich hunting-dress, rode first. His friends and servants, gaily dressed, followed. There was much talking and laughing.

and barking of dogs. As they rode into the forest, the frightened deer fled before them, and soon every one was eagerly following the chase. In the many paths of the forest, the king became separated from his friends. The nobles did not notice that the king was not among them, for it often happened in hunting that a few would be separated from the others. When the hunt was over, One by one the hunting party returned to the palace. Only the king did not return, the king, and one noble, Walter Tyrrell. What had happened? As the shadows began to lengthen, and the sun to set, the people of his household became uneasy. Who was with the king? Who saw him last?

As the question was asked, A peasant's cart came slowly up the street. It was a rough wooden cart drawn by an old white horse, led by a peasant in poor and shabby clothes. The question was answered. In the cart, the king, who so short a time before had ridden gaily away, lay dead, with an arrow through his heart. "'Who has done this?' asked the barons, seizing the peasant. VILLAIN answer. "'I know naught of it, my lords,' replied the man. "'I was passing through the forest on my way home, when I found this man lying dead as you see him. I bethought me that it was the king, so I brought him thither.'" How William the Red was killed can never be known. Some people say that Walter Tyrrell, while aiming at a deer, hit the king by mistake, that the arrow struck a tree, and—' Glancing off, pierced the king in the breast and killed him.

These people think that Walter Tyrrell, frightened at what he had done, fled away as fast as he could, that he fled to the seashore, got into a ship, and sailed over to France.

Certain it is that Walter Tyrrell did run away that day, and did not return to England for many years. But when he came back, he vowed very solemnly that he had not done the deed, And that he had not even been near the king that day when he died. There was no sorrow for the dead king. He was hated so much that, when he was buried, no bell was rung, no prayers were said, and when some time after the tower of the church fell, people said it was because of the wickedness of William, the red king, who lay buried there.

29 028 - The Story of the White Ship 15:18

E. Marshall. Chapter Twenty Eight. Henry I. The Story of the White Ship.

William the Red died in 1100 A.D. He had no children, so his brother Henry became king after him. Henry was the youngest son of William the Conqueror. He was fond of learning, and could read and write better than most people in those days, so he was called Beauclerc, which is French, and means Fine Scholar. Henry's eldest brother, Robert, Duke of Normandy, was still alive. And the Norman barons in England still wanted to have him for their king. So they sent over to France, and asked Robert to come to fight again for the crown. Once more the English people had to choose between the Norman king and the Norman barons. Once more they decided for the king and fought for him, even although William the Red had forgotten his promises, and cruelly deceived them.

For although Henry's father and mother had been Norman, Henry himself had been born in England, and the English people felt as if that almost made him English. So once more they chose to fight for the king against the barons.

Henry Beauclerc did not repay the people with promises only, as his brother had done. He gave them a written letter, or charter, as it was called, in which he promised to do away with many of William the Red's cruel laws, to restore the good laws of Edward, and to lessen the power of the barons. Later on another king gave the people a much more important charter, but in the meantime the English were very glad to get this one. Besides giving them this charter, Henry pleased the English very much by marrying the Scottish princess Maud, or Mathilda, as she was sometimes called.

Edgar the Etheling had a sister named Margaret. She married the Scottish king, Malcolm III, and this princess, Maud, was their daughter, and the great-granddaughter of Edmund Ironside. When Henry married her, and she became Queen of England, the English felt that the crown had come back again to their own people, and they were very glad. But the Norman nobles were angry about it. They thought Henry ought to have married a Norman lady.

Although many of the nobles were angry, Henry's marriage did a great deal of good, for other Normans followed the king's example and married English ladies, so that the hatred between the two races began to disappear a little. Thus it happened that when Robert and his barons came to fight Henry, they were met by an army of English, whose hearts were with their king, and who nowise feared the Normans. So hopeless did Robert feel it to be that he made peace with his brother, and went back to Normandy without fighting.

Then Henry punished the rebel barons by taking their lands away from many of them, and banishing others. The English helped him, and rejoiced at the defeat of the proud barons. Later on Robert and Henry quarreled again. Henry sailed over to Normandy with an army of English soldiers, defeated his brother, and took possession of Normandy. So now instead of England belonging to Normandy, Normandy belonged to England.

When Henry had been king for about twenty years, a great and terrible grief came upon him. He and his son, Prince William, had been in Normandy together. Just as they were ready to return to England, a sailor came, and begged Henry to honour him by using his ship. "'My father Stephen,' he said, "'steered the ship in which your father sailed over to England when he went to conquer Harold. My father was a good sailor, and he served King William until he died.' "'I, too, am a sailor like my father. I have a beautiful boat called the White Ship. It is newly rigged and freshly painted. It is manned by fifty trusty sailors, and is in every way worthy of a king. Honor me.' "'As your father honoured my father, and give me leave to steer you to England.'" "'I thank you, good master fitzstephen,' said Henry, "'but I have already made choice of the ship in which I intend to sail, and I cannot change.'" "'But,' he added, seeing the man looked disappointed, "'my son, Prince William, is with me, and you may steer him and his company over the channel.'"

Thomas fitzstephen was very glad when he heard that. and he hurried away to tell his sailors to prepare to receive the prince.

Late in the afternoon King Henry set sail, leaving Prince William to follow in the white ship. But Prince William was young and gay, and he did not feel inclined to start at once. He stayed on shore drinking and feasting, and making merry with his friends. When at last he did go on board, he ordered the captain to give the sailors three barrels of good red wine with which to drink his health. So there was still further delay. As was usual in those days, priests came to bless the ship before it started, but the prince and his gay companions laughed at them, and the sailors, whom the wine had made merry, chased them away.

One of the king's friends, who had been left behind with the prince, Now urged the captain to start. "'Oh, there is no hurry,' said Fitzstephen. "'My beautiful white ship has sails like the wings of a bird. She skims over the water swifter than a swallow. We can easily overtake the king, and be in England before him.' At last they started. The deck was crowded with fine ladies and gay gentlemen. These ladies and gentlemen had many servants, so that, together with the sailors, There were about three hundred people on board the ship. The sails were set, the sailors bent to the oars, and to the sound of song and laughter the gay ship left the harbour, skimming over the waves like a beautiful bird, as the captain had said.

It was a clear and frosty winter's evening. The red sun had sunk, and a silver moon shone brightly. All was merriment and laughter, when, suddenly, There was an awful crash. The ship seemed to shiver from end to end, and then stand still. The next minute it began to sink. It had struck upon a rock. One fearful wail of agony rose from the hearts of three hundred people, breaking the stillness of the night.

Far away over the sea Henry heard that cry. "'What is it?' he asked, straining anxious eyes through the darkness. "'Only some night-bird, sire,' replied the captain. "'Methought it was some soul in distress,' said Henry, still looking back over the sea. Anxious he knew not why. "'On the white ship all was terrible confusion. Without losing a moment, fitzstephen thrust the prince into the only small boat, and bade the sailors row off. He at least must be saved, though all the rest should perish.' The prince, hardly knowing what had happened, allowed the sailors to row away from the sinking vessel, but suddenly a voice called to him. "'Ah, William, William, do you leave me to perish?' It was the voice of his sister, Marie.

William was careless and selfish, but he loved his sister. He could not leave her. "'Go back,' he said to the sailors. "'Go back. We must take my sister, too.' "'We dare not, sire,' replied the boatman. "'We dare not. We must go on.' "'You dare not?' cried the prince. "'Am I not the son of the King of England? Obey me.' The prince spoke so sternly that the men turned the boat, and went back to the sinking ship.

As the boat drew near, the Princess Marie, with a cry of joy, leaped into her brother's arm. But, alas! Many others, eager to be saved, crowded into the little boat. The sailors tried in vain to keep them back. The little boat was overturned, and the prince was drowned.

The white ship sank fast until only the mast was seen above the water. Clinging to it were two men, all that were left of that gay company. One of these men was a noble called Geoffrey de L'Aigle. The other was a poor butcher of Rouen, called Berthold.

As they clung there, a third man appeared swimming through the waves. It was the captain, fitzstephen. "'What of the prince?' he asked. "'The prince is drowned,' replied Geoffrey. "'Ah, woe is me!' cried fitzstephen, and throwing up his arms, he sank.

Hour after hour the two men clung to the mast. They were numbed with cold, and perishing from hunger. Again and again, as long as they had strength, they called aloud for help, but there was no one to hear. The bright stars twinkled overhead, and the moon shone calmly, making paths of shining silver over the still water. But no voice answered their cries.

All through the terrible long night the noble and the butcher talked, and tried to comfort each other. But towards morning the noble became exhausted. "'Good-bye, friend,' he whispered to Berthold. "'God keep you. I can hold out no longer.' Then he slipped into the water, and Berthold was left alone. When the wintry sun rose, Berthold, faint and benumbed, was still clinging to the mast. He was the poorest of all those who had sailed in the beautiful white ship. While the others had been dressed in silk and satin and velvet, his coat was of sheepskin, and perhaps that helped to save him, for the rough skin kept out the cold and wet far better than a coat of satin could have done.

It was beginning to grow light when three fishermen, passing in their boat, caught sight of something floating in the water. They rowed near to see what it was, and found the poor butcher almost dead from cold and hunger. The fishermen lifted him into their boat and took him home. When they had warmed and fed him, and he could speak again, he told his dreadful story. Alas, what news to carry to England! There was mourning and tears among the nobles when they heard it, for almost every one among them had lost a son or a brother. But who should tell the king? No one dared. The nobles knew that Henry loved his son above everything on earth, so for three days, in spite of his anxious questions, no one dared to tell him the truth.

When alone they wept for their dear ones, but in presence of the king they put away their tears, and tried to smile and jest, as usual.

At last one of the nobles, taking his little son by the hand, and whispering to him, "'Go, tell the king,' gently pushed the child into the room where Henry was sitting. The little boy felt frightened and shy at finding himself alone with the stern king, although he hardly understood how terrible a tale he had to tell. Half sobbing with excitement and fear, he knelt before Henry, and stammered out the story.

As Henry listened, his hands clutched his robe, his lips moved, but no sound came. Then suddenly he fell senseless to the floor, and the little boy, now quite frightened, burst into loud sobbing.

At the sound of the fall, the nobles rushed into the room. They lifted the king and placed him upon a couch. He lay there with white face and closed eyes. When he opened his eyes again there was a look in them that no one had seen before. His face was lined and drawn with sorrow, and no one ever saw him smile again.

Henry had no other son, but he had a daughter who was called Mathilda, as her mother had been. He resolved that this daughter should be queen after he was dead.

In those days it was thought strange for a country to be ruled by a woman, And the haughty Norman nobles hated the thought of it. But Henry was so strong and stern that he forced them to promise that Matilda should be queen. How they kept that promise, you shall hear. After Prince William's death, Henry spent a great deal of his time in Normandy. He was there when he died. It is said that his death was caused by eating too many lampreys. Lampreys are fish, something like eels. Henry was very fierce and stern, but he was wise, and in those days it was necessary for a king to be stern in order to keep the strong barons in check. He loved justice so much that he was called the Lion of Justice. He took the side of the English people against the Norman barons, and the English repaid him by being true to him.

We read of Henry that, "'Good he was, and Mickle awe was of him.' No man durst bid so with other in his day. Peace he made for man and dear.

Peace he made, and peace he loved, so that he was called the peace-loving king.

Kneeling beside King Henry, as he lay dying, the Archbishop of Rouen prayed, God give him the peace he loved.

30 029 - The Story of King Stephan 8:24

XXIX.

THE STORY OF KING STEPHEN.

Henry I died in Eleven Thirty Five a. D. And the barons, instead of keeping their promise to him and making his daughter queen, chose his nephew Stephen to be their king. Stephen was the son of Adela, William the Conqueror's daughter. The barons chose Stephen for several reasons. They were so proud that they hated the thought of being ruled by a woman, and that woman, too, not even a Norman. For you remember, Mathilda's mother was a great-granddaughter of Edmund Ironside, and as she had been born in England, and lived a great part of her life there, she was far more English than Norman.

Mathilda's husband was Geoffrey, Count of Anjou. He was also called Geoffrey Plantagenet, because when he went into battle he used to wear a sprig of yellow broom in his helmet, so that his friends might know him when his face was covered with his visor. The Latin name for broom is plantagenista, and, gradually, it came to be pronounced plantagenet. Although Geoffrey was French, he was not a Norman, and the Normans looked upon him as quite as much a stranger as an Englishman, and they did not wish to be ruled by him, as would happen if his wife, Mathilda, were made queen.

Besides this, the barons knew that Stephen was kind and gentle, And they thought he would be a king who would allow them to do just what they liked. And so he did. Stephen was too gentle to rule the wild barons. Someone stern and harsh was needed to keep them in check, and Stephen was neither. He allowed the barons to build strong castles all over the country. These castles had dark and fearful dungeons, which were used as prisons. There such deeds of cruelty were done by the barons that the people said the castles were filled, not with men, but with evil spirits. "'God has forgotten England,' they said. "'Christ sleeps, and his holy ones.' Not even at the time of the conquest had there been such misery in England.

Then there had been one stern ruler who had forced every one to bend to his will. Now each baron set himself up as a king and tyrant. His castle was his kingdom, where he tortured and killed, according to his own wicked will. Stephen was a courteous knight and gentleman, but during the nineteen years of his reign there was only lawlessness and sorrow in England.

When the barons made Stephen King of England, Matilda and her husband Geoffrey fled to Normandy. But there, too, the barons rebelled against them, and chose Stephen for their duke. Then David, the king of Scotland, gathered an army, and came to fight for his niece, Matilda.

Ever since the days of the Romans, the Scots and English had been enemies, and the Scots were still almost as fierce and wild as they had been then. They marched through England as far as Yorkshire, doing dreadful deeds of cruelty as they went.

At a place called North Allerton, a great battle was fought. It was called the Battle of the Standard, because the sacred banners of four saints were hung upon a pole, which was fixed to a cart, and round this the English gathered their forces.

The Scots were fiercely brave, but they wore no armour, and, although they rushed to battle with splendid courage, they could not break through the line of steel-clad Normans, Nor stand against the arrows of the English. So they were defeated, and David could not help Matilda as he had meant to do.

Later on Matilda came back from France, and, until the death of Stephen, England was filled with civil war. Civil war means war within a country itself, the people of that country, instead of fighting against a foreign nation, fighting among themselves.

This is the most terrible kind of war, for often friends and brothers fight on different sides, killing and wounding each other. In this civil war those who wished Matilda to be queen fought against those who wished Stephen to remain king.

For a time Matilda's army was successful, but she was so proud and haughty that she soon made enemies, even of those who had at first fought for her. Then came a time when she was shut up in Oxford, while the army of Stephen lay around. The king's soldiers kept so strict a watch that no food could be taken into the town, and no person could escape from it. This is called a siege. The people in Oxford began to starve, for they had eaten up all the food they had, and Stephen's soldiers took good care that no more was allowed to be taken into the town. It was the middle of winter. The river Thames was frozen over. Snow lay everywhere around. The cold was terrible, and the people had no wood for fires.

At last, Matilda could bear it no longer. She made up her mind to run away. One night, four figures dressed in white crept silently through the streets of Oxford. They reached the gate. In silence it was opened, For those guarding it knew who the white-clad figures were.

One by one the figures passed through. Out into the snow-covered fields they crept, moving softly and swiftly, unnoticed by Stephen's soldiers. It was Matilda, and three faithful knights. They had dressed themselves in white, so that they might pass unseen over the snow. There was no bridge over the river, But the frost was so hard that they crossed upon the ice, and so got safely away. Although Matilda fled, the war still went on, until at length her son Henry landed in England, determined to fight for the crown. But Stephen was weary of war, and all the land longed for rest. So, listening to the advice of a wise priest, Stephen and Henry made peace.

Their first meeting was on the banks of the Thames, where it runs still as a little stream. They stood one on one bank and one on the other. Stephen, a broken, ruined man, worn and aged, with wars and troubles. Henry, young, handsome, and hopeful. And there they made a treaty called the Peace of Wallingford. By this treaty it was agreed that Stephen should keep the crown while he lived, that he should acknowledge Henry as his adopted son, that Henry should reign after the death of Stephen, and that the dreadful castles which Stephen had allowed the wicked barons to build, and which they used as dark and horrible prisons, should be destroyed. So the land had rest. Soon afterward Stephen died, and, in 1154 A.D., Henry came to the throne amid the great rejoicing of the people.

End of chapter 29. Read by Kara Schallenberg. W.W.K. Ray.org. On June 17th, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

31 030 - Gilbert and Rohesia 7:32

E. Marshall. Chapter 30. Henry Plantagenet. The Story of Gilbert and Rohezia.

Henry, the second, as you know, got his name Plantagenet from his father, Geoffrey of Anjou, who used to wear a piece of Plantagenista in his helmet. He was the first of several kings ruling England who were all Plantagenets. Henry, the second, was only twenty-one years old when he began to reign, and, like his grandfather, Henry Beauclerc, he reigned thirty-five years. Like him, too, he did much to draw the English and Norman people together.

The misrule and confusion of the reign of Stephen had been so great that Henry had to work very hard to bring his kingdom into order again. He not only worked hard himself, but he made other people work too. It is said of him that he never sat down, but was on his feet all day long. The first thing Henry did was to send away all the foreign soldiers who had come to England to help Stephen and Mathilda in their wars. Next he made the barons pull down their castles in which they used to do such dreadful deeds of cruelty. He told them they must live in ordinary houses, and not in fortresses which could be turned into fearful prisons and places of torture.

The barons were very angry, but, like his grandfather, Henry Beauclerc, Henry II was stern, and forced people to obey him. These are only a few of the things which he did, for the reign of Henry II was a great one. To help and advise him in his work, Henry chose a man called Thomas A. Becket. Thomas A. Becket's father was called Gilbert, and his mother, Rohesia. Gilbert was a London merchant, and when he was young he had made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, As was common in those days.

At that time Jerusalem was in the hands of people called Saracens. They were pagans, and hated the Christians, and they treated very badly those who came to visit the sepulchre of Christ. While Gilbert was on his pilgrimage, a rich Saracen seized and put him in prison, saying he should not come out until he had paid a great sum of money. This Saracen had a beautiful daughter. Rohezia, for that was her name, had seen the handsome young Englishman before her father put him in prison, and she felt sorry for him. She used to come to the little window of his cell to speak to him, and to bring him things to eat and drink.

Night after night she came, and they whispered to each other through the bars of the little prison window. There was no one to hear, and only the stars and the moon to keep watch. All day long Gilbert used to wait impatiently until night came, when Roesia would creep quietly to the window, and he would hear her whisper, "'Gilbert! Gilbert!' and she would slip her little hand through the bars, and touch his.

Roesia could speak no English, but Gilbert could speak her language, and he taught her to say his name. She learned to say, "'London,' too, and knew that that was where he lived.' Gilbert and Roesia grew to love each other very much, and all the day seemed long and dreary until night came and they could whisper to each other through the prison bars. But one night Roesia came breathless and pale. "'Gilbert!' she whispered. "'Gilbert, my father is asleep, and I have stolen the keys. I will unlock the door. You are free!' Gilbert hardly believed the good news until he heard the key turn in the lock. Then the door swung open, and he knew that he was indeed free. He took Roesia in his arms and kissed her, promising that he would never forget her.

"'As soon as I get back to England, I shall send for you,' he said. "'You must come to me, and we shall be married and never part any more.' Then Gilbert went away, and Roesia was left all alone. She felt very sad after he had gone, but she comforted herself always, by remembering that he was going to send for her, and that then they should be together and happy ever after. Gilbert arrived safely in England, but he forgot all about the beautiful Saracen maiden and his promise to her. He had so many things to do when he got back to London that the time for him went very quickly. But for Rohesia the time passed slowly, slowly. Day after day went. In the morning she said, "'To-day he will send.' In the evening she wept, and said, "'He has not sent.' At last she could bear the waiting no longer, so she set out to try to find Gilbert.

She knew only two words of English, but she was not afraid. She travelled all through the land until she reached the seashore. There she said, "'London! London!' to every one whom she met, until at last she found a ship that was going there. She had not much money, but she gave the captain some of her jewels, and he was kind to her, and landed her safely in London.

London in those days was much smaller than it is now, but Rohesia had never seen so many houses and people before, and she was bewildered and frightened. Every one turned to stare at the lovely lady dressed in such strange and beautiful clothes, who kept calling, "'Gilbert! Gilbert!' as she passed from street to street.

Gilbert was sitting in his house when suddenly he heard his name. He knew the voice, yet he could hardly believe his ears. Could it indeed be Rohesia? In a flash he remembered everything—the dark little prison, the lovely Saracen girl, his love for, his promise to her. He ran to the door, and opened it quickly. The next minute, Rohesia was sobbing in his arms.

Her long journey was ended. She had found Gilbert. As Gilbert held Rohesia in his arms, he found all his old love for her had come back, so they were married and were happy. They had a little son, whom they called Thomas. He grew up to be that, Thomas A. Becket, who was King Henry's great Chancellor and friend. I must tell that some people say that this story of Gilbert and Rojizia is only a fairy tale. Perhaps it is.

32 031 - Thomas a Becket 12:24

E. Marshall. Chapter 31. Henry Plantagenet. The Story of Thomas A. Becket. King Henry was very fond of Thomas a Becket. They used to work very seriously, but when work was done, they would play together like two boys. The Chancellor took care of the King's great seal, looked after the royal chapel, and had many other duties. He was a very important person, lived in splendid style, and dressed magnificently. In fact, his house and servants were richer and grander than those of the King. Many of the nobles sent their sons to serve in the Chancellor's house, and the proudest were glad to wait on him, and to try to please him.

Every day a great number of people dined with the Chancellor. Sometimes the king would come in from riding, in the middle of dinner, jump over the table with a merry jest, and sit down among the guests. Many stories are told of the fun the king and the Chancellor used to have together. One day, while out riding, Thomas and King Henry met an old beggar, shivering, and in rags. "'It would be a good action to give that poor man a coat,' said the king. "'It would indeed,' replied the Chancellor. "'Then give him yours,' and the king laughingly seized the cloak which Thomas was wearing. It was a beautiful new cloak of silk and fur, and Thomas did not wish to lose it. So he held it tight, While the king tugged hard to pull it off.

Neither would let go, until, between struggling and laughing, they both nearly fell off their horses.

The courtiers watched and laughed, too, but at last the king succeeded in getting the cloak, and flung it to the beggar. Thomas was not very pleased, but he had to make the best of it, and go shivering for the rest of his ride. The poor beggar went away greatly delighted with the king's joke. Once Henry sent Thomas with a message to the King of France. Thomas took so many soldiers and servants in glittering dress, so many horses and carriages with him, that the people came out of their houses to stare at him, wherever he passed. "'Who is it?' every one asked. "'The Chancellor of England!' was the reply. "'Only the Chancellor?' cried the astonished people. "'What must the King be, if the Chancellor is so grand?' Henry worked hard, and with the help of his chancellor improved many things in England.

He found that the church and the clergy, like everything else, had grown very unruly and disorderly. He determined to put them in order, and Thomas A. Becket, he thought, would be the best man to help him. Thomas had been brought up as a priest, and King Henry resolved to make him Archbishop of Canterbury, and head of all the clergy in England. But Thomas was gay and worldly. He loved fine clothes and rich food. "'I do not want to be Archbishop of Canterbury,' he said to the king. "'You must be,' said the king. "'Then we shall quarrel,' said Thomas. "'Why?' said the king. "'Because if you make head of the church, I shall work for the church and not for you. We shall no longer be friends but enemies,' replied Thomas.

But King Henry did not believe Thomas when he talked like this, and, in spite of all he could say, he made him Archbishop of Canterbury. As soon as he became Archbishop, Thomas changed his way of living. He gave up his fine house and fine clothes, and his great number of servants. He began to wear coarse, rough clothes, lived in a little narrow cell, ate very plain food, and drank only water. It is difficult to understand why he did this. Perhaps he thought that the primate of all England, as the Archbishop of Canterbury is called, ought to be a very holy man, and he knew no other way of becoming holy, for in those days, if a man fasted and went barefoot, and wore coarse clothing, it was thought that he must be a saint.

Thomas now wrote to the king, and told him that he must find another chancellor, as he could not be Archbishop and Chancellor too. This was a great surprise and grief to the king. In those days it was nothing unusual for one man to be archbishop as well as chancellor. Henry had expected Thomas still to be chancellor, and still to help him. He had merely made him primate, so that he should help him more. But that was only the beginning of the troubles. The bishop of Rome, whom we call the Pope, said that he was the head of the whole Christian Church, and that no one could be made a bishop in England without his consent. Henry said that he, the king, was the head of the English church, and he would make what bishops he chose.

Thomas, instead of siding with the king, sided with the pope, so they quarrelled, as Thomas had warned Henry that they would. In those days some of the clergy had grown very wicked. Instead of leading good lives and being an example to others, They led bad lives. Priests and clergy who did wicked things were not judged by the same courts as other people. They were judged by a bishop's court. Now a bishop's court had no power to order any very severe punishment. If a priest killed a man, the worst that could happen to him would be that he would be beaten, not very hard, and have only bread and water to live on for a few days. Many wicked people became priests simply that they might be able to do as much wrong as they liked, without being punished for it.

Henry wished to put an end to this, so he said that all people who did wrong must be tried by the same judges, whether they were priests or not. But Thomas A. Becket would not agree. Clergymen had always been judged by a bishop's court, he said. and by a bishop's court they should continue to be judged.

So the king and the primate quarrelled worse than ever, till the quarrel grew so fierce, and the king so angry, that Thomas fled over the sea to escape from him.

After a time Henry forgave Thomas, and he came back to England, but almost at once he again began to quarrel with the king. This time Henry lost all patience, and in a burst of anger he exclaimed, "'Are there none of the idle people who eat my bread that will free me from this quarrelsome priest?' Henry was angry, and did not really mean what he said, but four knights heard, and, thinking to please their king, they took ship—for Henry was in Normandy at this time—crossed the sea to England, and rowed to Canterbury. Arrived there, they went to the archbishop's house. They found him almost alone. With angry words they told him that he must either promise not to quarrel with Henry, or he must leave England.

"'I shall do what I think is right,' replied Thomas. "'If the king tells me to do things which I think are wrong, I will not obey him. I am the servant of God. God is higher than the king. I shall obey him.' This answer enraged the knights. And more angry words were spoken. Then they went away, telling Thomas to beware, for they would come again. "'You will find me here,' replied Thomas proudly. "'Never again will I forsake my people.' All the archbishop's friends, and the monks and priests who lived with him, were very much afraid. They felt sure that these angry knights meant to do something dreadful. They begged Thomas to leave his house and take refuge in the cathedral, but he would not. "'I said they would find me here,' he replied to all entreaties.

The day passed. The time for evening service came. Then only did Thomas consent to leave his house and go into the cathedral, for, he said, "'It is my duty to lead the service.' The priests tried to hurry him, they tried to drag him along quickly, but Thomas would not hasten. He walked slowly and solemnly, having the great cross carried before him as usual. He feared no man. When at last he was safe within the cathedral, the priests wished to lock and bar the doors, but Thomas forbade them. This is not a fortress, but the house of God, into which every one is free to enter. "'I forbid you to bar the doors,' he said." The priests were in despair. They loved their archbishop, they knew that he was in danger, but he would not try to save himself.

Even as he spoke there was a great noise without. The door burst open, and the four knights, dressed in complete armor and carrying drawn swords in their hands, rushed into the cathedral. The frightened people fled in all directions. The archbishop was left almost alone. Only three remained with him, his cross-bearer, and two other faithful friends.

In the dim twilight which filled the cathedral, it would have been easy for Thomas to escape, but he would not go. "'I told them that they should find me here,' he said again to the monks, who tried to drag him away. Even as it was, the knights could not find him. In the gathering darkness they clanked and clanged through the great church, seeking him. "'Where is the traitor?' called one of them. No one answered. Only the word, traitor, echoed again through the silence. "'Where is the archbishop?' he called again. "'I am here,' answered the voice of Thomas A. Beckett, out of the darkness. "'I am here, no traitor, but a servant of God.' What do you want?" They stood before him, four armed knights, against one unarmed priest.

Yet he was not afraid. "'Will you be at peace with the king?' asked the knights. "'What I have done I shall continue to do,' replied Thomas. "'Then die!' The knights seized him, and tried to drag him out of the cathedral, for they feared to kill him in a holy place. But Thomas would not go. He held tightly to a pillar. His cross-bearer, still holding the cross, threw one arm round the archbishop, trying to protect him. The knight who had first spoken struck at Thomas. The cross-bearer received the blow upon his arm, which dropped to his side, broken. The next stroke fell on Thomas A. Beckett's defenseless head. In a few minutes, all was over.

In the name of Christ, and for the defense of the church, I die willingly, said Thomas, and spoke no more. Then the knights, fearful of what they had done, fled, leaving the dead archbishop alone in the dark, silent cathedral.

End of chapter 31. 2006, in Oceanside, California.

33 032 - Conquest of Ireland 5:51

E. Marshall. Chapter Thirty Two. Henry Plantagenet. The Story of the Conquest of Ireland.

When Henry heard of what had happened to Thomas a. Becket, he was very sorry, but strangely enough, he had no power to punish the four knights. Their sin was a sin against the church, and they could only be tried by a bishop's court. The bishop's court punished them by sending them on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. So Thomas a. Becket, in quarrelling with the king, had protected his own murderers. But perhaps their punishment was very real, For they were forsaken and shunned by all their friends. No one would speak to them, nor eat with them, and at last they died in misery and loneliness.

All England was filled with horror at the dreadful deed. The people had loved Thomas when he was alive. Now that he was dead, they called him a saint. From far and near they came as pilgrims to his grave, over which a splendid shrine, Glittering with gold and gems was placed. Nearly four years later the king himself came as a pilgrim to show his sorrow and repentance. He rode on horseback to Canterbury, but, as soon as he came within sight of the cathedral, he got off his horse and walked barefoot, wearing only a shirt, and carrying a lighted candle in his hand, until he reached the shrine.

For a whole day and night, having nothing to eat or drink, he knelt in prayer before the grave. For a still greater punishment, he made the monks beat his bare back with knotted cords.

All this show of sorrow could not bring back the great Archbishop, who had been murdered in consequence of a few words spoken in anger. But it pleased the Pope, who was very angry because Thomas A. Becket had been killed. He blamed Henry, and would scarcely believe that he had not told the four knights to do the wicked deed. In those days the Pope was very powerful indeed. Even kings stood in awe of him, and Henry was glad to make peace with him by any means in his power.

Until now, in this book, we have spoken only of England, although England is but one of the countries which form the United Kingdom. Each of these countries has a history of its own, but it would be too difficult to tell all the stories in one book, so I shall tell only the story of each country after it has been joined to England. There are four countries in the United Kingdom—England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. Of these, England and Ireland were the first to be joined together. This happened in the reign of Henry, the second, In 1172 AD.

England, you remember, had at one time been divided into seven kingdoms, and in the same way Ireland was still divided into four, and the kings of these four divisions were always fighting with each other. Now one of these kings, who was called Dermot, came to Henry and asked for help against another of the Irish kings. Henry promised help if King Dermot would acknowledge him as overlord. This King Dermot said he would do. Henry was very glad to fight with the Irish, because he knew it would please the Pope, and perhaps make him forget about the death of Thomas A. Becket. The Pope was angry with the Irish, because they would not pay him some money to which he thought he had a right.

Henry first sent some Norman knights over to Ireland, and then went himself. There was a good deal of fighting, but in the end Ireland was added to England, And ever since the kings of England have been lords of Ireland, too, although many years passed before they could be said really to rule there.

Henry's great reign closed in sorrow. His sons did not love him, and they rebelled and fought against him. They were encouraged in this by their mother, who was not a good woman.

Two of Henry's sons died before him, both of them while fighting with their father. Two others, called Richard and John, were kings of England after him.

John was Henry's favourite son. He was the only one who had not rebelled against him. But when the king lay very ill, the nobles came to tell him that John, too, had rebelled. This last sorrow broke Henry's heart, crying out, Ah, John, John, now I care no more for myself nor for the world. He turned his face to the wall and died.

Henry was a very rich king, for, besides being king of England and lord of Ireland, he was ruler over more than half of France. Later you will hear how one of his sons lost all these French possessions.

On June 19, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

34 033 - Richard Couer de Lion 12:05

E.

Marshall.

Chapter 33. The story of Richard Cour-de-Lyon. This King Richard, I understand, ere he went out of England, let make an axe for the nonce, therewith to cleave the Saracens' bones. The head, in sooth, was wrought full wheel. Thereon was twenty pounds of steel.

The country where Christ was born, lived, and died is called Palestine. The capital of that country is Jerusalem. From that far-off country, the story of Christ was carried all over the world. Many listened to the story and were glad, but the country where he lived fell into the hands of the Saracens and Turks, who neither believed in nor loved Christ. When people for the love of Christ went the long, long journey to Palestine, in order to see for themselves the Holy Sepulchre, these Saracens and Turks ill-treated them, and insulted their religion. At last a monk called Peter the Hermit went through Europe, preaching and calling upon all Christians to fight for the city of their Lord. If they truly loved Christ, he said, they would deliver his grave from the hands of the Saracens.

At his call Christian people rose, eager to show their love, and journeyed to Palestine, but the way was long and difficult, and few reached the capital. The people, however, were not disheartened, And the following year a great army set out, which did reach Jerusalem, and after much fighting the Holy Sepulchre was taken from the Turks. Later on the Turks took it back again, and so, for nearly two hundred years, with times of peace between, Christians and Turks were at war. These wars were called Crusades, which means Wars of the Cross. The word comes from the Latin word Crux. They were called Crusades because the people who fought in them were fighting for the place where Christ died upon the cross.

As a badge or sign, they wore a cross upon their armor or clothes. Many kings and princes joined these wars. Henry II had been making ready to go to Palestine when he died. His son, Richard I, who was king after him, made up his mind to go as soon as he was crowned. Richard had not been a good son. He had helped to make his father's last days unhappy, but when his father was dead he was sorry for what he had done, and he punished the people who had helped him to rebel, instead of rewarding them as they had expected. Richard was very brave, as his name, Coeur de Leon, which means lion-hearted, shows. He was a great soldier. He loved to fight. He loved to have adventures. So instead of staying at home and looking after his kingdom as he ought to have done, he went far away to Palestine to fight.

And his people were proud of their king and glad to have him go, for they knew that he would make the name of England famous wherever he went, although Richard himself was really hardly English. He had indeed been born in England, but he had lived nearly all his life in France, and he did not know nor care much about the English people. Richard Coeur de Leon came to England to be crowned. He sold everything he could in order to get money for the crusade, for wars always cost a great deal of money, and then he sailed away. But first he chose two bishops to rule the country while he was gone. One was a very old man, and the other, William Longchamps, was Norman. He could hardly speak a word of English, And he treated the people so badly that they hated him, and soon rebelled.

Now Richard's younger brother John wanted to be king of England, so he encouraged the people to rebel. Then he began to rule, but the unhappy people soon found that John was no kinder than William Longchamps. Indeed he was rather worse, for John wanted the kingdom for himself, and Longchamps, although proud and haughty and cruel to the people, was at least true to his king. John and his Norman friends oppressed the people, and the hatred between English and Norman, to which Henry II had done so much to put an end, flamed up again. Many of the English left their homes, or were driven from them, and the land became full of robbers and outlaws. One of the most famous of these outlaws was Robin Hood.

He lived in Sherwood, A forest which at that time covered a great part of the centre of England. He was the head of a large band, and so powerful was he that he was called the King of Sherwood. And indeed his followers loved and obeyed him, as they would have done a king. Robbers, as a rule, are not men to be admired, but these were wild times, very different from ours, and Robin had been forced to become a robber through the wickedness of the rulers of the land. Among his own band he kept such good order that in Sherwood women and children could wander safely, where it was dangerous for haughty knights and wicked priests to go. Robin's rules were strict, and those who would not obey them were driven out of the band of merry men, as his followers were called.

But look ye, do no husbandman harm, that tilleth with his plough. No more ye shall the good yeoman, that walketh by Greenwood Shaw. Nor no knight nor no squire that will be good fellow. These bishops and archbishops, ye shall them beat and bind. The high sheriff of Nottingham, hold him in your mind."

The sheriff of Nottingham was Robin's greatest enemy. Many times he tried to catch Robin, but he never succeeded. In those days bows and arrows were used in battle instead of guns, As gunpowder had not been invented. Bows and arrows were also used for hunting wild animals. The English archers were the most famous in the world, and Robin Hood was the most famous archer in England. He could split a willow wand, and hit a mark which another man could hardly see. Robin and his men lived in caves in the forest, shooting the king's deer for food, and getting money by robbing the rich knights and priests. who travelled through the green wood. But they never hurt or robbed the poor people. Indeed, Robin used to help many of them.

The common people loved him, although the rich and great barons and nobles hated him.

Far away in Palestine news of the wicked things which John was doing reached Richard, and he felt that it was time that he should go home again. He had not succeeded in what he had set out to do. He had not won Jerusalem from the Turks, but he made a truce with their great leader, Saladin. A truce means that the people who have been fighting do not make peace for good and all, but that they promise not to fight against each other for some arranged time. Saladin and Richard made a truce for three years, during which time Saladin promised that no harm should be done to the pilgrims who came to the Holy Sepulchre.

Richard set sail for home, but his heart was in the Holy Land. Tears filled his eyes as its shores grew dim in the distance. Stretching out his hand, as if in prayer, Blessed Land, he cried, Farewell! To God's keeping I commend thee. May he give me life that I may return to deliver thee from the hand of the unbeliever.

As Richard sailed homeward, storms arose, and his ship was wrecked upon the shore of Austria. Nearly everyone was drowned, but the king and a few of his knights escaped. While in Palestine, Richard had quarrelled with the Duke of Austria, and he knew that it would not be safe to travel openly in this land. So the king and his knights disguised themselves as merchants, hoping in that way to pass safely on their journey.

But they had many adventures, and more than once were nearly discovered. At last Richard was left with only one knight, and one little page. When they arrived at the large town near which the Duke of Austria lived, Richard and the knight lay hidden, while the page went into the town to buy food. They had been travelling for several days without daring to enter a house, and all the food they had was finished, and they were both weary and hungry. Richard, like many brave and reckless people, was neither thoughtful nor careful. He gave the page a large sum of money, and allowed him to go into the town carrying the king's gloves in his belt. In those days only very rich people wore gloves, and Richard's were beautifully embroidered with silk and gold, such as only kings and princes wore.

The page had often before bought food for his master, And he went fearlessly into the market-place to get what was needed. But when he handed the merchant a large piece of gold in payment, the man looked sharply at him. "'Who is your master?' he asked. "'My master is a rich merchant called Hugh,' replied the boy. "'He is returning from a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.' "'Merchant indeed,' said another man. "'Look at his gloves.' A third plucked them from his belt. "'Merchant, indeed!' he, too cried. "'These are king's gloves. Who is your master, boy?' "'I have told you,' replied the page, steadily. "'He is a merchant called Hugh.' But the townspeople would not believe that. They beat and tortured the poor lad.

Still he would not tell. They dragged him before the Duke, with whom Richard had quarrelled in Palestine. He was more strong and cruel than the others. And at last forced the page to confess that his master was Richard Cour de Leon, the King of England. Then Leopold, Duke of Austria, was very glad. He hated Richard with a great hatred. He sent soldiers to the King's hiding-place, seized him, and put him in prison. Duke Leopold kept Richard prisoner for some time, and then he sold him to the Emperor of Germany, for a large sum of money. The Emperor of Germany also hated Richard, so he, in his turn, put him into prison.

Then the Emperor wrote to the King of France, telling him that the King of England was safely imprisoned in one of his strong castles. And King Philip of France was glad, for he too hated Richard, and had been helping Prince John stir up the English people to rebellion. When Prince John heard about it, he was glad too. So, A great many people rejoiced that Richard, cur de Leon, was in prison.

on June 19, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

35 034 - How Blondel Found the King 10:09

E. Marshall. Chapter 34. Richard Coeur de Leon. The story of how Blondel found the king.

Richard Cœur de Leon, who loved to be free, who loved to fight and ride and hunt, to do great deeds of strength and daring, hated to be shut up in a dark and narrow prison. Yet he did not despair. He loved, too, to laugh and sing, and he made friends with his jailers, wrestling and fighting with them, and astonishing them by his great strength, and when he was weary of that he would sing to them, or write poetry. But sometimes he was sad. Although nearly all the poetry which Richard wrote has been lost, one mournful little song which he made in prison is still left. It was written in French, for Richard, you remember, was almost French, and could speak very little English.

Here it is, in English words. No captive ever sings so sweet a strain as he who weareth not the prisoner's chain. Yet song may glad his days of weariness. Friends fail me not, but shame for them I fear, if I, for lack of gold, this vile duress sustain another year. Well know my knights and servants every one. English Poitouvin, Norman, or Gascon, that to no comrade would I help refuse, but I would spend my wealth till he were free. And this I say, yet them I not accuse, for my captivity.

True, it is said, and I have learned it sore, dead folk no lovers have, nor captives more. But if to save their wealth here I do lie, disgrace and scorn shall unto them be still. And if I suffer, More they suffer will, though I be left to die.

Prince John felt that nothing now stood between him and the throne of England. He told the people that the king was dead, and would never come back again. He seized the royal castles, and what gold and jewels he could find belonging to the king in England. But the English would neither believe nor follow John. Meanwhile, Blondel, A minstrel or singer, who loved King Richard, took his harp, and, wandering from castle to castle, sought his master all through Germany. For the Emperor kept secret where he had imprisoned Richard. Wherever Blondel heard of some unknown prisoner, there he stopped, and sang a song which Richard and he had made, and sung together. Again and again Blondel sang this song, but no answering voice ever came from any of the grim castle walls.

At last, one evening, weary and almost hopeless, he began to sing beneath the walls of a castle called Trifels.

O Richard, O my King, Thou art by all forgot. Through the wide world I sadly sing, lamenting thy drear lot. Alone I pass through many lands, Alone I sigh to break thy bands. O Richard, O my King, Thou art by all forgot, Through the wide world I sadly sing, Lamenting thy dread lot. Blondel's voice was sad and broken, his heart was heavy, and he could scarcely sing for tears. But hardly had he finished the first verse when— From a window high above him another voice took up the tune and sang. The minstrel's song is love alone, Fidelity and constancy, though recompense be none.

The voice rang out clear and full and strong. Blondel knew and loved it. It was the voice of Richard Coeur de Leon. Blondel leaned his head back against the rough stone of the castle wall, and wept for joy. He had found his king. Back to England the minstrel went with his great news, and when the English people heard it they were glad, but the Emperor would not set Richard free until the people paid a large sum of money called a ransom. The land had already been made very poor, through the wars and robberies of John, but the English people wanted their king so much that they denied themselves almost everything in order to raise enough money. When they had gathered the money, they sent it to the Emperor, and Richard was at last set free.

As soon as he was out of prison, Richard hurried to England. He must have been glad to see the white cliffs of his own land again. He had been away four years, and fourteen months of that time he had been shut up in a dark and lonely prison.

The people were so glad to see their king again that— Poor though they were, they had such grand decorations and rejoicings, that a German knight who came home with Richard was quite astonished. "'Had my lord the Emperor known,' said he, "'how rich a country England still was, he would have demanded yet more money.'" Richard set himself at once to bring order into the kingdom. Most of the people were on the side of the king, and Prince John soon submitted to him. Their mother, Queen Elinor, begged Richard to forgive his brother. "'I forgive him,' said Richard, "'and I hope I shall as easily forget the wrong he has done me, as I know he will forget my pardon.' He knew that John was not really sorry, and would rebel again as soon as he had a chance.

Richard remained in England only a few months, and then he went to France. There he spent the rest of his life chiefly fighting with the king of that country. But Richard left a good and wise man to rule in England, and the people were happier, although they had to pay heavy taxes in order to help Richard in his French wars. This was very unfair, as these wars did England no good. But as long as the kings of England had possessions in France, the English had to pay for French wars. So it was a good thing for England when at last all the French possessions were lost. Richard was killed in France in 1199 A.D., while besieging a castle called Chalouze. He was riding round the walls with one of his captains, looking for the best place of attack, when a young archer put an arrow to his bow, and saying, "'Now, God speed my arrow!

Let it fly!' The arrow hit Richard in the shoulder. The wound was not a bad one, but doctors in those days were not very clever. And the doctor who drew out the arrow-head did it so badly that the wound was made much worse. In a day or two it became so bad that Richard felt he was going to die. But he swore that he would first take the castle and kill the archer who had caused his death. The castle was taken, and Richard, in his terrible wrath, hanged all the soldiers except the archer. He was kept for some more dreadful death.

Richard was lying in great agony when the young archer was brought before him. "'Villain,' said the king, looking fiercely at him, "'what have I done to you that you should kill me?' The young man drew himself up, and, looking proudly at the king, and not in the least afraid of his angry frown, replied, "'With your own hand you killed my father and my two brothers. Kill me, torture me if you will.' I am glad to die, having rid the world of one who has wrought so much ill in it." Then there was silence between these two proud, brave men, as they looked each other in the eyes, the one a poor soldier, the other a dying king. But Richard, although fierce and hasty, was generous, and, above all things, he loved courage.

"'Boy,' he said, "'I forgive you.' Then, turning to his captains, "'Loose his chains,' he added, "'let him go free, and give him a hundred shillings to boot.' So Richard Coeur de Leon died. He was so brave that all Europe rang with his fame. The Saracens stood in such awe of him that when little children were naughty their mothers would say to them, "'Be good now, or Richard of England will come to you.' And the children would be good at once for fear of him. Thinkest thou that Richard of England is in that bush? a rider would say to his horse, if it were startled. So great was the terror of his name. Richard was a good knight, and a brave soldier, but he was not a good king. He reigned for ten years, yet only six months of that time did he spend in England.

No doubt he thought it was a great and good thing to fight for Jerusalem, but how much better it would have been if he had tried to rule his own land peacefully, and bring happiness to his people.

End of chapter 34. Read by Kara Schallenberg. www.kray.org. On June 23rd, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

36 035 - Prince Arthur 5:21

E. Marshall. Chapter 35. John Lackland. The story of Prince Arthur. When Richard Coeur de Leon died, his brother John, who had plotted and rebelled against him when he was alive, became king. He was called by the French, John sans terre, which means, without land, and John Lackland, by the English. He was so called because, when his father Henry II died, John had no kingdom left to him, as his brothers had. John was the youngest and the worst of all Henry's sons, and he was not the heir to the throne of England. The real heir was Prince Arthur of Brittany, the son of John's elder brother Geoffrey. And now the French king Philip, who had fought against Richard and helped John, suddenly turned round, and began to fight against John, because he would not let Arthur be king.

John was wicked and wily. And he easily got Arthur into his power, and shut him up in prison. But John was not content with that. He greatly feared that the English people might want to have Arthur as their king, and he resolved to make that impossible. Prince Arthur was placed in the charge of a man called Hubert, and wicked King John ordered this man to put out Arthur's eyes. Hubert actually said he would do this cruel deed. One morning he brought two men into Arthur's room, ready to put out his pretty blue eyes, with their dreadful hot irons. Arthur was a gentle, loving boy, and he was fond of his stern jailer, and Hubert, in his own rough way, was fond of the little prince. Now he felt sad and sick at heart at the thought of what he had to do.

"'Are you ill?' said Arthur. "'You look so pale.' "'I wish you were a little ill, so that I could nurse you, and show you how much I love you,' he added." When Arthur spoke to him so kindly, the tears came into Hubert's eyes. But he brushed them away, and determined to do what the King had commanded. "'I am not ill, but your uncle has commanded me to put out your eyes,' he said roughly. "'To put out my eyes? Oh, you will not do it, Hubert.' "'I must.' "'Oh, Hubert, Hubert, how can you?' said Arthur, putting his arms round Hubert's neck. "'When your head ached only a little, I sat up all night with you. Now you want to put out my eyes—these eyes that never did, nor never shall, so much as frown upon you.' "'I have sworn to do it,' said Hubert sadly.

"'Oh, but you will not do it, you will not. You will not, Hubert.' And so Arthur begged and prayed till Hubert could resist no longer, and he sent the wicked men with their dreadful red-hot irons away. But Hubert was afraid that King John would be angry because his orders had not been obeyed, so he told him the cruel deed had been done, and that Prince Arthur had died of grief and pain. Then wicked King John was glad, but the people both in France and England were very sad when they heard this news. Every one mourned for the young prince. All through the land bells were tolled, as if for a funeral.

There was so much anger against John, and so much sorrow for the prince, that at last Hubert told the people that what he had said was not true, and that Arthur was still alive. Then every one was glad. Even King John was glad at first, because many of his nobles had told him plainly that he would find no knight to follow him to battle, Nor to guard his castles at home, if he had really killed his little nephew. But King John's heart was black and wicked, and he could not rest while he knew that Prince Arthur lived. So one dark night he came to the castle in which his nephew was kept prisoner.

After that night no one ever saw Prince Arthur again. Next morning, when the sun shone in at the narrow window where he used to sit, It shone into an empty room, for Arthur's poor little body was lying at the bottom of the seine, with a great wound in his heart made by his wicked uncle's cruel, sharp knife.

End of chapter 35. Read by Kara Schallenberg. W.W.K.R.A.Y.

On June 23rd, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

37 036 - The Great Charter 14:45

E. Marshall. Chapter 36. John Lackland. The Story of the Great Charter.

The French barons soon grew weary of John and his misrule, and they all leagued against him. They fought and conquered him, and he had to fly from Normandy, which, with all his other French possessions, were lost to him for ever. But although he was no longer Duke of Normandy, Count of Anjou, Lord of Touraine and Maine, John was still King of England. And to England he returned, to rob and oppress the people. The wise man, called Hubert Walter, who had ruled England during the last years of Richard Coeur de Leon, now died. He had been Archbishop of Canterbury, and John was very glad when he died, as he was one of the few men who kept him from doing just as he liked. John chose a friend of his own as the next Archbishop, But the monks of Canterbury chose some one else.

Both these men went to the Pope to ask him which of them ought to be the Archbishop. Henry II, you remember, had quarrelled with Thomas A. Beckett over this very point, because, he said, he had the right to choose the English bishops, and the Pope had nothing to do with it. The Pope said that neither of these men should be Archbishop, and he chose another man altogether, called Stephen Langdon. Stephen Langdon was a very good man. In fact, no better archbishop could have been chosen. But John was furiously angry when he heard that his friend was not to be allowed to be archbishop, and he banished Stephen Langdon from the country. Then the Pope was very angry with John, and told him that, if he did not allow Stephen to come back at once, he would lay England under an interdict.

Interdict comes from a Latin word which means to forbid. The Pope meant that he would forbid any religious service of any kind to be held in England.

John did not care. He meant to have his own way. So did the Pope. John would not give in, and the churches were closed. No bells were rung, no services were held, people could not be married, Little babies could not be christened. Dead people could not be buried. Cobwebs and dust filled the churches. Weeds choked the graveyards. It was a sad and gloomy land. Still, John did not care. Then the Pope excommunicated him. Excommunicate is another Latin word, and means that John was put out of union or companionship, not only with the church, but with every human being.

The Pope told the people that John was no longer king, and that they need not now obey him. They were forbidden to eat or drink with him or to serve him. Whatever he did was wrong. In fact, he had lost all rights as a man and as a Christian. He might be looked upon as a wild animal. Anyone who chose might kill him. Still John did not care. He laughed at the Pope. Then the Pope told the King of France that he would be doing a good and Christian act if he conquered John, and took possession of England.

The French King was only too pleased to have a good excuse for invading England, and he began at once to prepare to fight. Then suddenly John grew frightened and gave way. He had found out that not only the Pope and the French were against him, but the Scotch, the Irish, the Welsh, And even the English were all ready to fight. He was alone in the world, hated and despised by all. So powerful was the Pope in those days. From being insolent and scornful, John now became meanly humble, and did a shameful thing. The Pope sent a messenger to England, and John, kneeling before this messenger, took the crown from his head, and gave it to him. The Pope's messenger kept the crown for five days, and then he gave it back to John, but he did not give it to him as the free King of England.

He gave it to him, telling him that henceforth he could wear it only as the servant of the Pope, and that he must promise always to do as the Pope commanded. The English people felt sad and ashamed that their King should be under the Pope like this, but John did not care, For the Pope was now his friend. And John knew that the Pope could be as powerful a friend as he had been an enemy. One good thing at least followed. The interdict was taken from the land. Once more church-bells rang, hymns were sung, and the silent gloom passed away. Another good man who had helped to protect the people from John now died. When John heard of it, he was very glad. "'At last I am really King of England!' he cried, for he thought that there was no one else in all the land to hinder him from being as bad and cruel as he wished.

But he was mistaken. Stephen Langdon, the man whom the Pope had made Archbishop of Canterbury, turned out to be the people of England's best friend. You remember that King Henry I had granted a charter of liberties to the people. That charter had been broken, set aside, and forgotten. Stephen Langdon and the barons now drew up another charter, which they determined to make John Grant to them. This charter was much the same as that of Henry, only it gave still greater liberty to the people. It is called the Magna Carta, or the Great Charter. Magna means great. The charter is very long, and some of it you would find difficult to understand, but I will tell you a few of the things in it, for the Magna Carta is the foundation of all our laws and liberty.

No free man, it says, or merchant or peasant, shall be punished a great deal for a very little fault. However bad they may have been, we will not take their tools or other things by which they earn their living away from them. No free man shall be seized, or put in prison, or have his goods and lands taken from him, or be outlawed or exiled, or in any way brought to ruin, unless he has been properly judged and condemned by the law of the land. To no man will we sell, or deny, or delay, right or justice.

These things seem to us now quite natural and right. So you can imagine what evil times these were, when the king was unwilling to grant such liberty to his people. But King John was very unwilling to grant it. When he first read this charter he was furiously angry. "'Why do they not ask for my kingdom at once?' he cried. "'I will never, never grant anything that will make me a slave of the people.' But the church, and the barons, and the people were all against John. Agree he must. Yet he kept delaying, from Christmas till Easter, from Easter till Midsummer. Friend after friend deserted him, till at last he found that the whole country had risen against him like one huge army, and he had only seven knights left who were still true to him.

The angry barons would no longer be put off. They forced the king to meet them at a little place on the Thames called Runnymede. The barons and their army camped on one side of the river, the king and his friends on the other. On a little island between they met and talked, and there, on the 15th of June, 1215 A.D., the great charter was sealed with the king's great seal.

The king was sullen and angry. At the last he would have refused to set his hand to the seal, but Stephen Langdon stood beside him, and the stern barons around. Then he found that he had to bend his will to that of the people.

John not only sealed the charter, but he agreed that twenty-four barons should be appointed to see that he kept the promises which it contained. He agreed only because he was compelled, because the barons stood there in bright armor with sharp swords and fierce looks, because he knew he had no friend to stand by him and help him to resist.

When the meeting was over and John went back to his palace, his anger was terrible. He threw himself on the floor, foaming with passion. "'They have given me four-and-twenty overlords!' he screamed. I am no king with four-and-twenty overlords. He cursed the barons and the people with terrible curses. He tore and bit the rushes with which the floor was covered. He gnashed his teeth, growling and snarling like a wild animal mad with rage. Yet this charter, against which John fought so fiercely, was nothing new. The laws and promises it contained were the laws and promises of Edward the Confessor, of Alfred the Great. But they were also the laws and promises which the foreign kings of England had broken and trampled on, ever since William the Conqueror had won the Battle of Hastings.

Many copies of the great charter were made, and these copies were sent to cathedrals and other safe places to be taken care of. This was done so that the people throughout all the land should know of their liberties, and if one copy were lost or destroyed there should still be others. It is nearly seven hundred years since the Magna Carta was sealed, yet one copy still remains. It is yellow and stained, but we treasure it greatly for the memory of what it was and is to us. It is kept safely in London, in the British Museum. Some day, You will go there and look at it." John sealed the Magna Carta because he had no choice, but he never meant to keep the promises it contained, and he did not keep them.

He sent to France for soldiers, and when they came he made war on his own people. He asked his friend the Pope for help, and the Pope helped him by excommunicating all the barons, by laying London under interdict, and by telling him that he need not keep his promises. But the people of England said that this was a matter with which the Pope had nothing to do, and so they paid no attention to him. The church-bells rang. There was preaching, praying, and singing in the churches, and people were married and buried and christened as usual. The Pope was very angry, but he could do nothing. Then, as John still went on his wicked way, the people sent to France and asked Louis, the son of the King of France, to come to fight against John, promising to help him, and to make him King of England.

Louis came, but there was little need for him to fight, as very shortly John died. While crossing the wash to meet Louis, he, his army, and all his treasure were overtaken by the tide. John himself was nearly drowned, and his crown, his jewels, and the baggage of the army were lost.

A few days later John died. Some say that he died of anger and grief, others that he was poisoned, others that his death was caused by eating a great many raw peaches, and by drinking a quantity of new cider, too greedily. No king of England has ever been so bad as John. He was a bad son, a bad brother, a bad king, and a bad man. Yet out of his wicked reign great good came to the English nation. The loss of Normandy, which was caused by John's cruelty, proved to be a blessing to England. Norman lords no longer came to England expecting to fill the best places in the land. French was spoken less and less, until only a few French words remained. which we still use, and which now form part of the English language.

The hatred between Norman and English died out, because the differences disappeared, and the Norman barons became English barons.

In the reign of Stephen the barons, you remember, were fierce and wicked, and oppressed the people in terrible ways. In the reign of John, the barons had become the champions of the people, and took up arms for them against a wicked king. When the barons forced John to grant the Magna Carta, they fought, not for themselves, as barons and normans, but for the whole English people. For the first time since the conquest, the people of England acted as one people. The Normans had disappeared. England was England again. She had conquered the conqueror.

This England never did, nor never shall, lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, if England to itself do rest but true.

End of chapter 36. in Oceanside, California.

38 037 - Hubert de Burgh 8:52

E. Marshall. Chapter Thirty-seven Henry of Winchester, the story of Hubert de Bourgh.

When King John died, the anger of the barons died too, and, although he was only nine years old, they chose his son Henry to be their king. His father was wicked, said the barons, but the prince has done us no wrong. Why should we be angry with him? So they crowned Henry, and told Louis to return to his own country.

But Louis was angry that, having been brought from France and promised the crown of England, he should be told to go away again. He would not go. So there was fighting once more. Louis sent to France for men, and a great fleet of ships, filled with soldiers, came sailing to England. Long ago, you remember, Alfred the Great had seen how much better it would be to stop the Danes from landing at all, and he built ships and fought them at sea. Now a brave man called Hubert de Burgh saw the same thing. When he heard that more Frenchmen were coming, he said, "'We will never let them land. We will fight and conquer them at sea.' So under his command, a brave little English fleet sailed out from Dover to meet the great French fleet.

And the English conquered the French, as Hubert had said they would. The wind was blowing from the English to the French, and the English threw quicklime in the air, which was blown into the eyes of the French, and blinded them. The English archers then poured arrows among them while their quick little ships crashed with their pointed prows against the great French vessels, piercing holes in their sides, until the water rushed in and they sank. The English were altogether so quick and fearless that the French were no match for them, and their fleet was utterly destroyed.

On land, too, the English beat the French, and Louis, seeing that his cause was lost, went back to France. Henry, the third was too young to rule, so Hubert de Bourgh was made regent. He was a good regent, but his work was hard, for, after the wickedness and misrule of John, the kingdom was in a bad state.

But in spite of his good and wise teacher, Henry grew up to be neither good nor wise. Listening to the advice of evil friends, he treated Hubert very badly, and at last obliged him to fly for his life.

One night, while Hubert was sleeping quietly, he was suddenly awakened by a friend. "'Fly, my lord Hubert,' he cried. "'Stay not a moment. The king has sent his soldiers to take you. I have ridden hard, but they are close behind me.' You have not a moment to lose. Hubert got out of bed, and, not even waiting to dress, fled with bare feet and only a cloak round him to the nearest church. There, with his hand upon the cross, he waited in the dark and cold.

Hubert fled to a church for sanctuary, or safety. When any one was hunted by his enemies, if he ran into a church, reached the altar steps, and laid hold upon the cross, no one dared to hurt him. This was called taking sanctuary. It was considered a dreadful and wicked thing to kill any one in sanctuary. Yet, you remember, the knights killed Thomas A. Beckett on the steps of the altar in Canterbury Cathedral. Hubert waited in the cold and silent church until, with the first grey streaks of dawn and the first early twitter of the birds, He heard the distant tramp of feet, and the clatter of swords and armor.

Nearer and nearer came the sounds, till at last a knight, followed by three hundred armed men, dashed into the church. Hubert de Burgh, said the knight, in the king's name I command you to leave this holy place. Give yourself into my hands, that I may take you before the king to answer for your misdeeds, as a rebel and traitor. "'Nay,' replied Hubert, "'to my king have I ever been true, but he has listened to false friends who would take my life. Here have I sought God's safety. Here will I remain.'" "'That shalt thou not do,' cried the knight fiercely. "'On men and seize him!' Then the armed men rushed forward, forced Hubert from the altar, and carried him out of the church. "'He is indeed a mighty man, and strong,' said the knight, when he saw how Hubert struggled.

"'He must be fettered, or we shall never carry our prize to London.' Near the church stood a smith's forge, and the smith, who had already been aroused by the noise, was ordered to light his fire, and make fetters for the prisoner.

Soon the red fire glowed in the grey morning light, and the ring of hammer and anvil was heard.

"'For whom do I make these fetters?' asked the smith, as he paused in his work. "'For the traitor and rebel, Hubert de Burg,' replied the knight. "'What?' cried the smith, throwing down his hammer. "'For Hubert de Burg? That will I never do. Hubert de Burg is no rebel. He saved us from the French. He gave us safety and peace. Some one else may do your evil deeds. No iron of mine shall ever fetter such noble hands.' "'Fool!' cried the knight, drawing his sword. "'Do as I command you, or die!' "'I can die,' replied the smith calmly. "'Yes, kill me. Do with me what you like. I will never make fetters for Hubert de Burgh.' When the smith spoke like this, the knight began to feel rather ashamed, but he would not let Hubert go, both because he hated Hubert, and because he feared the king.

So he and his followers bound Hubert with a rope, set him upon a horse, and took him to the Tower of London. When the Bishop of London heard what had happened, he was very angry. Being a brave man, he went straight to the king. "'My liege,' he said to him, "'have you heard how your soldiers have broken the peace of Holy Church, and have dragged Hubert de Burgh from sanctuary, casting him into prison?' "'I know that the rebel and traitor Hubert de Burgh is now in prison,' replied Henry. "'Hubert de Burgh is no rebel,' said the bishop, "'and if he were, the soldiers have still no right to drag him from the safety of the church. Let him go back, or I shall excommunicate every man who has had to do with it.' Very unwillingly, the king allowed Hubert to go back to his place of safety.

But he sent soldiers to dig a trench round the church, and round the bishop's house which was close to it. There the soldiers watched day and night, so that Hubert might not escape, and so that no food might be taken into him.

But in spite of the strict watch kept by the soldiers, Hubert's friends found means to send him food, and for many days he lived in the church. Then still closer watch was kept, And, at last, thinking it a disgrace to die of hunger, Hubert left the church of his own accord, and gave himself up to the king's soldiers, who at once carried him off to the Tower of London. There he was kept for some time. But at last Henry, who was not really cruel, although he was weak and foolish, set him free. After that Hubert lived quietly in his own home, And took no more part in the ruling of the kingdom.

39 038 - Simon de Montfort 9:49

E. Marshall. Chapter 38. Henry III of Winchester. The Story of Simon de Montfort.

King Henry, the third, married a French lady called Eleanor. She brought a great many friends and relatives from France with her. Soon all the best places at court were given to these French people, just as they had been in the time of Edward the Confessor and of William the Conqueror. These strangers did very much as they liked. They set aside the great charter, and, when the English barons complained, the French nobles sneered at them. "'What are your English laws to us?' they said. "'We are far greater and more important than you. Such laws are made for English boors. We will not keep them unless we choose.' This treatment was not to be borne, and at last the English rose in rebellion, and forced the king to send away his French favourites.

It would take too long to tell of all the quarrelling and fighting there was in this reign. Henry broke the great charter over and over again. No fewer than ten times did he sign it, and each time, as soon as he had got what he wanted, he broke the promises he had made. But in spite of this, the power of the people was growing stronger.

Henry spent a great deal of money, far more indeed, than he ought to have done. But he could not wring gold from the people as William the Conqueror had been able to do. He had to ask the barons to give it to him, And they would not grant it, until he promised something in return. Henry did indeed wring money from the Jews. They were the richest and most despised people in the country, and Henry, although he was not usually cruel, was very cruel to them. One Jew who refused to give Henry money was put into prison. Every morning his jailer came and pulled out one of his teeth, till at last the poor man could bear the pain no longer, and he gave the king what money he wanted.

The bishops and barons grew tired of broken promises, and such unkingly acts, so, when next Henry asked for money, a great council was called, to which all the barons and bishops in England came. There was a great deal of talking, and it seemed as if nothing would come of it, but the barons told Henry very sternly that he had not acted as a king ought. He had constantly broken his promises, And only if he now solemnly swore to the charter would they give him money. Then Henry answered, It is true. I am sadly grieved that I have acted as I have done. I will try to do better. But when he tried to blame some of the bishops and barons, they sternly said, Our Lord King, we will not talk of what is now past, but of what is to come.

Then all the bishops and archbishops, dressed in their splendid robes and carrying lighted candles in their hands, walked in solemn procession to the great royal hall at Westminster. There, in presence of the king and all the barons, they solemnly excommunicated every one who should in the future take away in any degree the freedom of England. The words they used were very grand and terrible. The king, as he listened, held his hand over his heart. His face was calm and cheerful, and he looked as if he never had tried, and never would try, to take away his people's liberty.

When the solemn sentence was finished, and the deep voice of the archbishop died away in silence, all the bishops and the archbishops threw down their lighted candles, crying, May all those who take away our liberties perish! Even as these lights perish. The bells were then rung joyfully, the candles were again lighted, and King Henry, standing among his people, spoke. "'So help me God, all these promises will I faithfully keep, as I am a man, a Christian, a knight, and a crowned and anointed king.' Thus, once more, the great charter was solemnly signed and sealed. But in spite of this ceremony, Henry did not keep his promises. He listened to evil friends, who told him that if he did, he would not be king, nor even lord in England, but the subject of his people.

Now there arose a great man called Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester. For many years he had been the faithful friend of King Henry, whose sister he had married. Henry sometimes heaped favours upon him, sometimes quarrelled with him, just as he was pulled this way or that by his friends.

When Simon de Montfort first came to England, the barons did not like him. "'Here is another Frenchman,' they said, "'who comes to eat our bread and take away what belongs to us.' But Simon soon showed that, if he was French in name, he was English at heart.

As Henry continually broke his promises, Simon took the side of the barons and the people, and Henry feared him, as he feared no other man. One day Henry went for a picnic on the Thames. He had rowed from his palace at Westminster some way down the river, when a thunderstorm came on, and he was obliged to take refuge in Simon's house, near which he was passing. As he arrived there, the thunderstorm began to clear. "'There is nothing to fear now, my lord,' said Simon, as he ran to meet the king. "'I fear the thunder and lightning,' replied the king. "'But I fear thee more than all the thunder and lightning in the world.' "'My lord king,' replied the earl sadly, "'it is unjust that you should fear me, who am your faithful friend.

I have ever been true to you, and yours, and to the kingdom of England.' Your flatterers are your enemies. Them you ought to fear."

Led by Simon, the barons forced Henry to hold a council at Oxford, to draw up new laws for the better ruling of the kingdom. The wonderful thing about these laws was that they were written in English. Ever since the conquest, the laws had been written in French or Latin, but at last English laws, for English people, were again written in their own language. But Henry did not keep these new laws any better than he had kept the old ones. The patience of the people came to an end, and there was war, the king's army fighting against Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, and his followers. This was called the Barons' War, and it ended in a great battle at Luz, in which the king was defeated.

After this battle, it was really Simon de Montfort who ruled the country. Henry was indeed still king in name, but both he and his son, Prince Edward, were Simon de Montfort's prisoners. It was Simon de Montfort who laid the foundation of what is now our Parliament. Up to this time only bishops and barons had been allowed to come to the meetings of the council. Simon, however, now chose two knights from every shire or county, and two citizens from every city, and sent them also to the council to speak for the people, and to tell of their wants. Now, too, the great council began to be called Parliament, which means Talking-place, for it is there that the people come to talk of all the affairs of the kingdom.

Unfortunately, the barons could not long agree among themselves. Prince Edward escaped from Simon, and joined the discontented barons. And there was another battle between the prince's men and Simon's men, in which Simon was killed.

The people had loved Simon, and now they sorrowed for his death, and called him a saint, and Sir Simon the Righteous. He is also called the father of the English Parliament. Although Prince Edward fought against Simon de Montfort, he had been his pupil, and had learned much from him, and he was growing into a wise prince. He now helped to make peace, and when peace again came to the land, Prince Edward, like so many other princes and kings, joined a crusade, and went to fight in the Holy Land.

In 1272 A.D., while his son was still in that far-off country, King Henry died, having reigned fifty-six years. His reign had not been a happy one for England, yet good came of it, For his very weakness made the people strong, and out of the troubles of his reign grew our freedom of speech, and our power to make for ourselves the laws under which we have to live.

40 039 - The Story of the Poisoned Dagger 6:53

HENRY III. THE STORY OF THE POISONED DAGGER.

In far-off Palestine, the army of the Crusaders lay encamped before the town of Acre. The air was hot and stifling. The sun seemed a ball of fire hung in the still blue sky. Having put off his heavy armor for the sake of coolness, Prince Edward lay within his tent, wearing only a long, loose robe of linen. He lay idle, thinking perhaps of the mighty deeds which his great-uncle, Richard Coeur de Leon, had done in this same place, eighty years before, wondering, too, if he would be able to do as great things.

Presently the curtains of the doorway parted. "'My lord prince,' said a soldier, bowing low, "'the emir of Jaffa hath sent his servant yet again. He craves to be admitted to your presence.' "'I will receive him,' replied the prince, and the soldier once more left the tent.

Edward had been fighting with the emir of Jaffa, but now, pretending that he wished to become a Christian, this emir sent daily messages and presents to the prince. And the prince, noble and honest himself, believed the emir to be honest too.

In a few minutes the curtains of the doorway parted once more, and the emir's dark slave crept in. He bowed himself to the ground, then, kneeling humbly before the prince, drew out a letter.

Edward took the letter, and, as the prince read, the slave crouched on the ground, watching him with his bright, dark eyes. Then slowly, slowly his brown hand crept to the belt of his white dress. So slowly it crept. that it seemed hardly to move. Suddenly, as quick as lightning, a keen, bright blade flashed in the air, and fell. But Edward, too, was quick and strong. He threw up his hand, and caught upon it the blow which had been aimed at his heart. Then, springing from the couch, he overthrew the slave, and, placing his foot upon the man's neck, wrenched the dagger from his grasp. In another moment the slave lay still and dead upon the sand. At the noise of the struggle several frightened servants came running into the tent, and one of them, seeing the slave upon the sand, seized a stool and dashed his brains out.

"'Foolish man,' said Prince Edward. "'See you not, that the slave is already dead? What you do is neither brave nor honourable, but the action of a coward.' Prince Edward's wound was slight, but the dagger had been a poisoned one. When his wife, the beautiful Princess Eleanor, heard of it, she hurried to her husband's tent. Before those about her knew what she meant to do, she knelt down, and, putting her lips to the wound, sucked it. It was said that if the blood from a poisoned wound was sucked at once after the wound was made, the wounded person would not die.

It was a brave thing for Princess Eleanor to do, for she might herself have died. But she loved Edward so much that she was willing to risk her own life. Yet the wound grew worse, and it seemed likely that Edward would die. He was very calm and brave, and did not fear death, but tried to comfort his friends and servants, for they were all very sorrowful. But the princess sat beside him weeping, and would not be comforted. Then, calling for parchment and ink, Prince Edward wrote down all that he wished to be done with his money and lands, after he was dead. This was called making his will. Now a clever doctor came to the prince, and said, "'I think I can cure you, only you will have to suffer a great deal of pain.' "'Do what you think best,' said the prince, "'and cure me if you can.' Then the princess threw herself upon him, crying bitterly, and would not let any one touch him.

"'I know you only want to hurt him more,' she sobbed. "'I cannot bear it.' But Edward gently put her away. "'Hush, hush,' he said, and gave her into his brother Edmund's arms. "'Do you love your lord and brother?' asked the doctor, turning to Edmund. "'Ay, that I do,' replied he. "'Then take this lady away, and do not let her lord see her again until I tell you.' So Princess Eleanor was led away weeping. "'Ah, weep, lady,' said Edmund gently. "'It is better that you should weep, than that all England should mourn.' But England did not mourn, for the doctor was clever, and in less than a fortnight Prince Edward was again quite well.

The false emir sent messengers to Edward to say that he was sorry that the prince had been wounded, and was glad that he was better. But Edward no longer trusted the emir. He looked gravely at the messengers. "'You bow before me,' he said. "'But you do not love me. Therefore, go.'" And they were allowed to go in peace. Although Edward's soldiers longed to be revenged upon them and kill them, the prince would not allow it.

After this, Edward did not stay long in Palestine. He heard that his father was ill, so he made a ten years peace with the Sultan, as the King of the Turks is called, and sailed back to England. On his way home, he heard of his father's death. He knew that that meant he was now King of England, but he was very sad, for Edward had loved his father, although he could not help knowing that in many things he was foolish and untrustworthy.

End of chapter 39. on June 25, 2006 in Oceanside, California.

41 040 - The Little War of Chalons 5:58

XXX. EDWARD I. THE LITTLE WAR OF CHALLENSE.

In the days when knights wore armor and fought with sword and lance, they often used to play at war, as if they had not real fighting enough. These mock wars were called tournaments. They took place in a great open space or plain, which was called the lists. The knights, dressed in full armor with painted shields and waving plumes, met each other and fought as they would in battle. Each wore the badge of his lady-love in his helmet. Generally, the weapons which they used were blunted, so that they could not hurt each other much, but sometimes the weapons were sharp, and the mock fight ended in wounds and death. Round the lists were seats where fair ladies and great princes sat to watch the tournament.

Each knight was eager to do great deeds, so that he might win the praise of the beautiful ladies who looked on. When the jousting, as it was called, was over, the fairest lady placed a crown of bay-leaves on the head of the victor. This crown was prized more than if it had been of gold and gems, and each knight did his best to win it. It was thought that no knight could show his love and reverence for his lady better than by jousting and tilting in her name. As Edward travelled home to England, he passed through France. and near to a little town called Chalons. When the Count of that place heard that the great English prince was passing through his land, he sent a message asking that they might meet in a tournament, with a thousand knights on either side, lance for lance.

Far and wide, Edward was known as a brave and courteous warrior, and although his knights whispered that the Count of Chalons had no love for the prince, and meant to do him harm, Edward accepted the challenge, as such a message was called. Indeed, it seemed to him that he was in honour bound to do so, for it was counted unknightly to refuse a challenge. Great preparations were made, and on a fair day in May the plain of Chalons was gay with knights on horseback, and lovely ladies and people of all ranks in holiday dress, crowding to see the tournament. The earth seemed to shake as Edward and his thousand splendid and brave English knights thundered over it. But the Count of Chalons came to meet them, not with one thousand men, as had been agreed, but with two thousand.

Yet the English had no fear, and the tournament began. It was soon seen, however, that it was no friendly trial of strength, but a fight of bitter hate. The Count rode again and again at Edward, until his lance was splintered in his hand. Then throwing away the shaft, he seized the Prince round the neck, and tried to drag him from his horse. This, according to the rules of the tournament, was a mean and unknightly thing to do. Edward sat his horse like a rock, and, great though the strength of the French Count was, he could not move him. Then suddenly Edward spurred his horse. It sprang forward. And the Count, who still clung tightly to Edward, was pulled from his saddle, and fell to the ground with a fearful crash.

Enraged at such unknightly behaviour, Edward leaped down, and beat with the shaft of his lance upon the armour of the fallen Count, heeding not his cries for mercy.

As of a hammer upon an anvil, blow after blow fell, until at last the rage of the Prince was spent, And he allowed the Count to rise.

The Count then offered his sword to the Prince in token of submission, but Edward turned from him in scorn. "'Nay, Sir Knight,' he said, "'this day have you proved yourself no true knight. My servants may receive your tarnished sword. I shall not touch it.' So the Count was obliged to give up his sword to a common soldier, which, for a true knight, was the deepest disgrace. Meanwhile the English archers outside the lists, seeing that the French knights far outnumbered the English, and that there was no fair play, shot with their arrows at the horses of the French. Many of them fell dead, dragging their riders to the ground, where they lay helpless, trampled upon alike by friend and foe. Then the French foot-soldiers joined in the fight, and the tournament became a battle.

The English were far outnumbered, but even so they had the best of it. They took many of the French knights' prisoners, making them pay large sums of money for their freedom. The common soldiers they slew, because, they said, they were but rascals, and of no great account. So fierce a tournament was this that, ever after, it was called the Little War of Chalons.

End of chapter forty.

on June 25, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

42 041 - The First Prince of Wales 7:36

EDWARD I. THE LAWGIVER. The story of the First Prince of Wales.

Soon after the little war of Chalons, Edward reached England. The people welcomed him with delight, and he and his beautiful queen, Eleanor, were crowned at Westminster Abbey with great splendour. Since the days of Alfred, no king had been received with such joy and love, for the people felt that Edward was truly and indeed an English king. We think now that such names as Henry, Richard, and John are English names, but they were not known in England until after the conquest, when they were brought into England by the French. For more than two hundred years the kings of England had borne French names, and had indeed been Frenchmen, but Edward was a Saxon name. The king had been born, and had lived nearly all his life in England, He spoke the English language, and he loved his people and his country, which no king of England since Harald had truly done.

Not only did Edward love his people, but he longed for their love in return, and tried to be a good king.

The feasting and rejoicing at the coronation continued for a fortnight. Many large new buildings had to be made to hold all the guests. The streets were hung with silk and embroidery. Rich men scattered handfuls of gold and silver to the people. Fountains ran with wine instead of water. For the coronation feast alone there were needed three hundred and eighty cattle, four hundred and thirty sheep, four hundred and fifty pigs, eighteen wild boars, two hundred and seventy-eight flitches of bacon, and twenty thousand fowls. Never had there been such feasting and grandeur in England. The king of Scotland came to the coronation, and with him a hundred knights. When they got off their horses, they let them go free, and anyone who caught them might keep them.

Seeing this, and not wishing to be outdone, the king's brother, Edmund, and three other nobles came each with a hundred knights riding upon splendid horses, and, leaping down, They, too, let them go free, for any one to have who would. Edward was crowned King of England, Lord of Ireland, and Duke of Aquitaine. Aquitaine was all that remained of the great French possessions of Henry II. But Edward longed to rule over the whole island of Britain. He wanted to be Prince of Wales and King of Scotland, as well as King of England. You remember that, hundreds of years before this, when the Saxons came to Britain, they gradually drove the Britons out before them, until they took refuge in the mountains of Wales.

There they remained, speaking the ancient British language, and having very little intercourse with the English, but often fighting with them. And the kings of England, ever since the days of Edward the Confessor, had from time to time forced the Welsh to own them as overlords.

When Edward came to the throne, he sent for Llewellyn, Prince of Wales, to come to do homage, that is, to own him as overlord. Llewellyn would not come. Six times did Edward send. Still Llewellyn refused. This made Edward very angry, and, hearing that a beautiful lady was coming from France to be married to Llewellyn, he seized her, and kept her prisoner in London. He then sent messengers to the Prince of Wales, telling him that he should have his bride when he had done homage, and not till then. Llewellyn, instead of submitting, was furiously angry. He raised an army, and marched against Edward. But brave little Wales could not do much against Great England. The Welsh were soon defeated and scattered, and their prince starved into submission in his castle on Snowdon.

But as soon as Llewellyn did homage to Edward as overlord, the king acknowledged him as Prince of Wales, and not only let him have his bride, but made a great wedding feast for her, and gave her many presents. So there was peace.

But peace did not last long. In the days when Arthur was king, Merlin, his wise counsellor, had foretold that, when money should be round, a Prince of Wales should be crowned in London. Before the time of Edward I, there was very little money of any kind. When the people wanted to give change, they took a large piece of money, and cut it into two or three or four pieces, just as they liked. This, of course, made it easy to cheat with money. For when a coin was cut up, it became difficult to know whether it really was a coin or not.

Edward made a law forbidding people to cut coins into pieces, and he had pennies and small silver coins made, in order that people could give change. So money was round, instead of being all sorts of shapes, as it had been.

The Welsh thought that the time of which Merlin had spoken had now come, And they began to fight with the English, hoping to conquer them, and see Llewellyn crowned in London. But the Welsh were again defeated, and this time Llewellyn was killed. In the cruel fashion of those days his head was cut off, and sent to London. There it was crowned with a silver crown, and carried through the streets on a spear, and at last it was set upon the tower, wreathed with willow. Then the English laughed unkindly. Saying that, the prophecy was fulfilled.

Sad and overcome, the Welsh once more owned England's King as Lord. But when the barons came to do homage to Edward, he promised to give them a Welsh Prince as ruler, one who had been born in Wales, and who could neither speak French nor English. On the day appointed, when the barons gathered to do homage to this new ruler, Edward appeared before them, carrying in his arms his little baby son, who had been born at Cairnarvon Castle only a few days before. He was truly a prince who could neither speak French nor English, nor, indeed, any other language. This little prince was named Edward, like his father. Ever since that time, the eldest son of the King of England has been called the Prince of Wales.

And England and Wales have formed one kingdom.

I'll see you next time.

43 042 - The Hammer of the Scots 7:52

E. Marshall. Chapter 42. Edward I. The Hammer of the Scots.

When Edward had joined Wales to England, he longed more than ever to gain possession of Scotland. It seemed, too, as if he might succeed in doing this, for the king of Scotland died, and the heir to the throne was a little princess called the Maid of Norway.

Edward I arranged with the people of Scotland that this princess should marry his son Edward, Prince of Wales, and in that way England and Scotland would be peaceably joined together. But, unfortunately, on her way from Norway to claim the crown of Scotland, the princess died. So Edward's hopes of joining the two countries together in that way were at an end. After the death of the maid of Norway, twelve Scottish nobles claimed the crown, and, as they could not agree as to who had really the best right to it, they asked Edward, who was known to be a wise and just man, to settle the question.

Edward said that a man called John Balliol had the best right to the crown of Scotland, and John was accordingly crowned at Scone, the town where all the kings of Scotland were crowned. But before Edward said that John was the real heir, he made him promise to own the King of England as overlord. Edward had no right to demand this homage, and John Balliol had no right to give it. But John did give it. Perhaps he thought, if he did not... Edward would choose some one else.

The Scots had always been a warlike people, and ever since the days of the Romans, they had fought with the people in the south part of the island, and had tried to take away part of their land. At last it had been agreed between the kings of England and Scotland that the Scots should be allowed to keep part of the north of England, on condition that they did homage for that part, just as the Norman kings of England did homage to the King of France for Normandy and their other French possessions. But the King of England had no more right over Scotland than the King of France had over England. The people of Scotland were very far from agreeing to John Balliol's bargain with Edward, and in less than a year quarrels began, and war followed.

Edward marched into Scotland with a great army, And although the Scots were in the right, and fighting for their freedom, Edward was the stronger, and the Scots were defeated.

Edward, thinking he had conquered the Scots, went back to England, taking with him the crown and sceptre of Scotland, and also the Stone of Destiny, on which the Scottish kings sat when they were crowned. This stone was supposed to be the very stone which Jacob used as a pillow when he slept in the wilderness, and saw the vision of the ladder up to heaven, with the angels going up and down upon it. The Scots prized this stone very highly, and it had been prophecy that, wherever it was, there the kings of Scotland would be crowned.

Unless the fates are faithless found, and Prophet's voice be vain, Where'er this monument is found, the Scottish race shall reign.

Edward took the Stone of Destiny to Westminster, and there it remains to this day, and it is always used when the kings of Britain are crowned. Besides taking these treasures away, Edward caused many of the old Scottish records to be destroyed, hoping in that way to make the people forget their freedom. But all this only made the Scots more determined not to submit to the King of England. Their weak king, John Balliol, had been driven from the throne, but other brave leaders arose, and wars between England and Scotland continued until Edward died in 1307 A.D. Edward died while on his way to fight once more against Scotland. He was within sight of its blue mountains, and he died knowing that its people were still free, and that his dearest wish was not fulfilled.

The disappointed king begged his son to go on with the war, to carry his bones with the army, and bury his heart in Scotland. But Edward II did not do as his father wished. He turned back to London, and Edward I lies buried in Westminster, Where you may still see his grave with these lines upon it in Latin. Here lies Edward I, the Hammer of the Scots.

Keep troth.

Edward I has many names. Edward of Westminster, because he was born there. Edward Longshanks, because he was very tall, and his legs were long and thin. Edward, the hammer of Scots, because of the many battles he fought with them. But the name by which it is best to remember him is Edward, the lawgiver. He earned this name by the many wise laws which he made. Although his people were not always pleased with these laws at first, they generally came to see that they were just and good. Edward was a great soldier, and a valiant knight, But it was because he loved England, and made good laws, because he was a true man, and kept his word, that his people loved him, and mourned for him, when he died.

All that are of heart true, a while hearken to my song, of dolor that death hath dealt us new, that maketh me sigh, and sorrow among, of a knight that was so strong, of whom God hath done his will, Methinks that death hath done us wrong, that he so soon shall lie still. All England ought to know of whom that song is that I sing, of Edward, King, that lieth so low. Though all the world his name did spring, truest man in every thing, and in war wary and wise. For him we ought our hands to wring, of Christendom he bare the prize.

Now is Edward of Carnarvon, King of England in his right. God never let him be worse man than his father, not less of might. To hold his poor man to right, and understand good counsel, all England to rule and direct. Of good knights there need not him fail. Though my tongue were made of steel, and my heart smote out of brass, the goodness might I never tell that with King Edward was. King, as thou art called conqueror, in each battle thou hadst the prize. God, bring thy soul to the honor that ever was and ever is, that lasteth aye without end. Pray we, God and our Lady, to that bliss Jesus, ascend.

End of chapter 42. in Oceanside, California.

44 043 - Robert the Bruce and Bohun 9:09

E. Marshall. Chapter 43 Edward, the Second of Carnarvon. The Story of King Robert the Bruce and Bohun. When Edward, the first prince of Wales, was young, he had a French friend called Piers Gaveston. Piers was tall and handsome and gay, but he was wicked. He led the prince into all kinds of mischief, until at last King Edward I put his son in prison for a time, and banished Piers from the kingdom.

When Edward lay dying, he begged his son never to bring Piers back again. The Prince of Wales promised, but as soon as his father was dead, he broke his word and sent for Piers. Edward II made Piers Earl of Cornwall, and married him to a great lady. Then, leaving him to rule England, the King crossed to France to marry the beautiful Princess Isabella. The English barons were very angry at again having a foreigner to rule. They hated Piers, and Piers laughed at and insulted them. He called them all sorts of names, such as the Jew, the Actor, the Black Dog, and the Hog.

Piers made Edward II do many wicked things. The king filled the court with bad and foolish people like himself, sending away the wise men who had helped Edward I to rule. At last, the hatred of the barons grew so fierce that they forced Edward to send Piers away, and when after a time Edward brought him back, They seized him, and put him to death.

Edward was very angry with the barons for killing peers, and he was sad, too, for he had really loved his friend. He was too weak a king, however, to punish the barons, so he was obliged to pretend that he forgave them. But he did not become a better king, even after his favorite was dead.

Meanwhile, the Scots were fighting against the English, and driving them out of Scotland. A king called Robert the Bruce was now upon the throne, and under him the Scots fought so bravely that soon the English had lost all the Scottish towns which they had, except Stirling. The castle of Stirling was strong, and the English soldiers within it brave.

But the Scots were brave too, and determined, for they were fighting for their freedom and their country. At last the governor, feeling that he could hold out no longer, promised to yield the castle on the 24th of June, 1314 A.D., if before then no help came to him. When Edward II heard that Stirling was in danger, he at last roused himself. He gathered a great army of English, Irish, Welsh, and French, barons and men of high degree, with their servants and followers, a hundred thousand men in all. Such a splendid army as now marched over the border had never before been seen in Scotland.

As they passed through the country to Stirling, fear filled the hearts of the women and children. They thought of their husbands, and fathers, and brothers, who were gathered at Stirling to meet this great army, and wept for them as lost. The whole of Robert the Bruce's army numbered less than forty thousand men, and they were neither so well drilled nor so well armed as the English. But King Robert was a great soldier and a wise general. He knew that he could only hope to defeat the English by using his brain as well as his sword and battle-axe. Therefore he chose the position of his army with great care. In front there lay marshes, through which the English would have to ride in order to reach the Scots, who were drawn up upon the dry plain beyond.

Where the ground was firm, Bruce made his men dig pits about three feet deep. These pits were filled with twigs and branches of gorse, and the turf was then laid over them again, so that from a distance it seemed like a firm and level plain.

On one side of King Robert's position rose the steep Castle Hill, and on the other flowed the little stream called the Bannock. Only from the front could the English attack, and the front was guarded by pits and marshes.

Not till the twenty-third of June, the very day before the governor had promised to give up the castle, did King Edward appear, and camp opposite the Scottish army. When King Robert heard that the English were near, he drew up his army in battle array, ready to fight, although he did not expect to do so that day. Randolph, Earl of Moray, the nephew of King Robert, was given charge of a small body of horsemen, and told that he must stop any of the English who might try to get into Stirling, for it might have been very bad for the Scots had the English been able to take a strong position there. The Scottish leaders stood watching the advance of the English when King Robert's eye caught the gleam of armour away to the east.

Turning to his young nephew, he said, "'Ah, Randolph, a rose has fallen from your crown.' By this he meant that Randolph had missed a chance of making himself famous, for a party of English horsemen were quietly stealing towards Stirling, and Randolph, who had been told to prevent this, had not noticed. Too ashamed to reply, Randolph called to his men and dashed upon the English. They turned and charged Randolph so fiercely that Douglas, another of the Scottish leaders, begged to be allowed to go to his help. "'No,' replied King Robert. Let Randolph win back the honor which he has lost, or die. I cannot risk the whole battle because of a careless boy. Leave him."

So Douglas waited and watched. It seemed to him as if the little company of Scotsmen were being swallowed up by the English horsemen. Then Douglas could bear it no longer. "'My lord king, I pray you, let me go,' he said. "'Randolph and his men are sore pressed. I cannot stand idly by and see him die.' And, scarcely waiting for permission, Douglas rode off. But as he came near to Randolph, he saw that the English were giving way. "'Halt!' he called to his men. "'Randolph has no need of our help. We will not take the honor from him.' And, without striking a blow, he and his men turned and rode back to the king. Soon the English horsemen were seen flying from the field, and Randolph, joyful and victorious, returned to his place.

He had recovered the rose which had fallen from his crown. Meanwhile, the rest of the English army was steadily advancing. King Robert the Bruce, mounted upon a little brown pony, and wearing a gold crown upon his helmet, rode up and down in front of his army, watching everything, commanding and encouraging. His armor was light, and for a weapon he carried only a battle-axe. Seeing King Robert so lightly armed, an English knight called Sir Henry de Bohun thought he would earn a great name for himself and win the battle at one blow. So, setting spurs to his horse, he rushed upon the king at full speed. As the full-armed knight came thundering along on his great war-horse, King Robert, sitting firmly on his little pony, waited calmly.

When Bohun reached him, When the sharp point of the spear almost touched his armor, Bruce suddenly made his pony spring to one side. The knight flashed past him. Quick as lightning, Bruce turned, rose in his stirrups, and, lifting his battle-axe high in the air, brought it crashing down upon the helmet of Bohun. Head and helmet were split, and without a groan Bohun fell dead to the ground, while his riderless horse galloped wildly away. Cheer upon cheer rose from the Scottish ranks, and the nobles crowded round their king, glad, yet vexed with him. "'My lord, my lord, is it well thus to risk your life?' they said. "'Had you been killed, our cause were lost.' But the king paid no heed to them.

"'I have broken my good axe,' was all he said. "'I have broken my good axe.'" End of chapter 43 Read by Kara Schallenberg, www.kray.org, on July 5, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

45 044 - The Battle of Bannockburn 5:37

E. Marshall. Chapter 44. Edward II of Carnarvon. The story of the Battle of Bannockburn.

After the death of Bohun, there was no more fighting that day. The sun soon set, and during the short summer night the two armies lay opposite each other, silently waiting for the dawn. When day broke, the whole plain was astir. Trumpets sounded, drums beat, and as the English army advanced, they seemed to roll onward like mighty waves. "'No hand but God's can save us from so great a host,' said the Scots. And as a holy abbot with bare feet and head passed along the lines to bless them, they knelt in prayer. "'See!' cried King Edward. "'They kneel. They ask for mercy.' "'True,' replied the knight to whom he spoke. "'They ask for mercy, but from heaven, not from us. These men will conquer or die on the field.' The fight began.

And long and fiercely it raged. The Scottish horse scattered the English archers, and the English horse fell into the pits which Bruce had caused to be dug. The English army was already in confusion when suddenly, over the brow of a neighboring hill, there appeared what seemed to them another Scottish army.

Then the English fled. Blind with fear they rode, hardly knowing where. Many were drowned while trying to cross the river forth. Others fell over the rocky banks of the bannock till the stream was choked with the dead. The new army which had so frightened the English was no army at all, but only the servants and camp-followers whom Bruce had separated from the soldiers and sent to wait behind the hill.

They had grown tired of watching and doing nothing, so they tied cloths onto poles for banners, armed themselves with sticks, and came to join the fight. They came just at the right time, for the English, already beginning to feel that the battle was lost, fled before this new host.

Edward, although he was no coward, fled too. He went first to Stirling, but the governor would not let him stay there. "'Have you forgotten, my lord,' he said, "'that to-morrow I must yield up the castle to the king of Scots?' If you remain here, you will become his prisoner.

So Edward rode south, attended only by a few knights. One brave man rode with the king until he thought he was safe, then drawing rein, Farewell, my liege, he said. I am not wont to flee. And turning, he rode back, and fell, fighting with his face to the enemy. The king fled on, And he had need to flee fast, for when it became known that he had left the field he was hotly pursued as far as Dunbar, which was still in the hands of the English.

From there he went in a little fishing-boat to Berwick, and so reached England, and safety. So eagerly he was pursued, they got to him so near, he was on point of being ta'en, but got into Dunbar. To Berwick in a fishing-boat they sculled him away, While to be kept from wrath of Scots, he earnestly did pray.

Upon the field many of England's noblest men lay dead. Many were wounded, many taken prisoner. So much spoil fell into the hands of the Scots, and so much money was paid to them as ransom for their prisoners, that it was said that Scotland became rich in one day. Scotland became not only rich, but free in one day. For if the Battle of Bannockburn did not quite end the war, it showed what Scotsmen loving their country could do, and in the dark days which were still to come, they never again despaired.

The Battle of Bannockburn is the greatest battle ever fought on Scottish ground. It is great not because so many noble men fell upon the field, but because at one blow it made the Scots free. Beaten and angry, Edward returned to England, and the rest of his life was dark and miserable. He ruled so badly that at last the nobles put him from the throne, and crowned his little son, who was also called Edward. Edward, the second, king no longer, was sent as prisoner from castle to castle. No one loved or cared for him, and each new jailer treated the poor fallen king worse than the last, Till one night terrible shrieks ran through the castle in which he was imprisoned. In the morning Edward, the second was found dead.

He had been murdered.

End of chapter 44. Read by Kara Schallenberg. W.W.K. Ray.org. On July 5th, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

46 045 - The Battle of Sluys 6:10

E. Marshall. Chapter 45 Edward, the Third of Windsor. The Story of the Battle of Sluys. When Edward III was made king in 1327 AD, he was only 14. He was too young to rule, and the power was really in the hands of his mother, Queen Isabella, and of a man called Roger Mortimer, Earl of March. Both the Queen and the Earl were wicked, so it was a sad time for England. There was fighting with Scotland, fighting with France, sorrow and misery at home. When Edward was eighteen, he resolved that he would no longer be king in name only. He took the Earl of March prisoner, tried him for the wicked thing he had done, and condemned him to death. Queen Isabella he shut up in a castle, and would not allow her to rule the kingdom any more, but he gave her money to spend, and he went once every year.

King Edward then really began to reign. He made peace with France, And, I am sorry to say, war again with Scotland. But after fighting there for some time he left Scotland, and began to fight again with France.

The war which now began is called the Hundred Years' War, because it lasted, with times of peace between, for a hundred years. It began because Edward said that he had a right to be King of France, as well as King of England. He said this was so because his mother, Queen Isabella, was the sister of King Charles IV of France, who had died, leaving no son to succeed him. But the French had a law by which women were not allowed to wear the crown, so Edward had really no right to it. He could not receive from his mother what had never been hers. King Philip VI, who now had the crown, would, of course, not give it up, So a fierce and bitter war began.

The first great fight was at sea. Edward sailed from England with a fleet of about three hundred ships. As he came near to Suisse, a town in Flanders, he saw such a number of masts that it seemed as if a forest had come sailing out to sea. "'What ships are these?' said King Edward to the captain of his vessel. "'They are the ships of the King of France,' replied the captain. "'They have oftentimes plundered your coasts. They lately burned the town of Southampton, and took your good ship, the Christopher.' "'Ah, I have long wished to meet them,' replied the king. "'Now, please God and St. George, we will fight them. For in truth, they have done me so much mischief, I will be revenged upon them, if possible.' Edward's wife, Queen Philippa, was at Ghent, and Edward had many ladies on board who were going to join her there.

So he arranged his vessels with great care, for he knew that the French had far more men and ships than he had. He put the ladies in the safest place, and guarded them carefully with a large body of archers and soldiers.

As the sun and wind were both against Edward, he lowered his sails and moved round, so that the sun should be behind him. The French, seeing this, thought that he was afraid, and that he was running away.

They had been waiting for the English in strong battle array. All their ships were fastened together with heavy chains, so as to make it impossible for the English ships to break through their lines. Seeing the English flee, as they thought, The French unfastened the chains, and made ready to pursue.

As the royal standard floated from the masthead, the French knew that the King of England was with his fleet, and they hoped to take him prisoner. They filled the Christopher, the ship which they had taken from the English, with trumpeters and drummers, and, to the sound of music and shouting, sent it to attack the English. But the English won their own ship back again, and, amid great cheering, manned it with Englishmen once more. The battle was fierce and terrible. The English were often in great danger, for the French were much the stronger, but when the battle was over there were very few Frenchmen left, and most of their ships were sunk or destroyed.

It was such a dreadful defeat that no one dared tell the King of France about it. At last his court fool told him. In those days great people always had some one near to amuse them by making jokes, and by laughing at everything. He was called a fool, although sometimes he was very wise and witty. But because he was called a fool he was allowed to say what he liked, and no one was angry with him. "'The English are great cowards,' said the French king's fool to him one day. "'Why so?' asked the king. "'Because they have not the courage to jump into the sea and be drowned like the French at Sluys,' replied the fool. In this way King Philip was told of the loss of all his ships, and his anger was so terrible that even his fool fled from him in fear."

in Oceanside, California.

47 046 - The Battle of Crecy 12:28

E. Marshall.

Chapter 46. Edward III of Windsor. The story of the Battle of Cressy.

Six years after the Battle of Sluys, another great battle was fought between the French and English at a place called Cressy. Edward had been marching through France for some time when he heard that King Philip was close behind him with an army of one hundred and twenty thousand men. He himself had only twenty thousand men, but he resolved to camp where he was, on a rising ground near the little French village of Cressy, And there, conquer or be conquered.

On Saturday, the 26th of August, 1346 A.D., Edward rose very early. He divided his army into three parts. One part he gave in command of his young son Edward, the Black Prince. Prince Edward took his name from the black armor, which he always wore, and at this time he was only 17 years old. Having divided his army, King Edward, carrying a white wand in his hand, and mounted upon a pony, rode slowly through the ranks, talking to the soldiers and encouraging them. He looked so cheerful, and spoke so bravely, that the soldiers cheered him as he passed among them, and if any of them had felt afraid, they took heart again. Then Edward gave orders that the men should have breakfast sitting on the ground where they were, each man in his place.

So the men took off their helmets, and, laying their weapons down, ate and drank, as they sat upon the ground.

The king himself went to a windmill nearby, and there waited and watched for the French to arrive. When at last the French came in sight, it was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Then each man of the English rose, put on his helmet, took his weapon in his hand, and stood waiting. King Philip, meanwhile, told four knights to ride quickly forward and bring back news of the English army. The English saw these knights, and saw, too, that they had come to spy, but they took no notice of them, and let them return to King Philip. "'My lords, what news?' said he, as they rode back to him. The knights looked at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to speak first. "'Come, my lords, what news?' said the king again.

Then the bravest of the knights said, I speak, my lord king, as you desire, and I hope that my companions will tell you if they think that I say wrong. The English are encamped in a strong place. They are well fed, and rested, and are waiting for you. Our soldiers are hungry and weary with the long march. My advice is that you halt here. Let the soldiers rest to-night. And to-morrow they will be fresh and able to conquer the English. "'I thank you, my lord,' replied Philip. "'It is good advice, and shall be followed.' Then, turning to his generals, "'Go,' he said, "'command a halt.'" Two generals rode off, one to the front, the other to the rear, calling out as they went, "'Halt banners, in the name of God and St.

Denis.'" The soldiers in front halted as they were commanded, but those behind would not do so. "'We shall not halt until we are as far forward as the others,' they said, and they marched on. When they overtook the soldiers in front, these, feeling themselves being pushed forward from behind, moved on too, and neither the king nor the generals could stop them. They marched on until they came close to the English. When the soldiers in front saw that they were near the English, they fell back. But those behind still pressed forward, so that the confusion was great. The roads behind the French army were filled with peasants and country people armed with sticks and stones. These peasants made a great noise, and, shouting, Kill!

Kill! were eager to be at the English. They mixed with the army, and made the confusion worse still. In a few minutes all order was lost, and King Philip, seeing that there was no help for it, decided to begin the battle at once. Besides, as soon as he saw the English, his anger against them rose, so that he longed to be fighting them. "'Forward, archers, and begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis,' he cried. The archers advanced, shouting fiercely, in order to frighten the English. But the English stood still. Not a man moved so much as a finger. Again, the French archers shouted. Still, the English never moved. With a third fierce yell, the French archers shot. Then the English archers made one step forward, raised their bows, and shot arrow after arrow till it seemed as if it snowed.

When the French archers felt these terrible arrows pierce their arms, breast, head, and legs, even through the armor which they wore, They threw down their bows and fled. These archers were not Frenchmen, but Italians, whom Philip had hired to help him in his war with the English, and when he saw them throw down their bows and run away he was dreadfully angry. "'Kill these cowards!' he shouted. "'They do but stop the way, and are of no use.' So the French horsemen dashed upon the flying archers, who, having thrown down their bows, had no other weapon, and killed as many as they could, while the English poured arrows upon archers and horsemen alike. It was a terrible battle, and, to make it seem still worse, there was an eclipse of the sun and a thunderstorm while it was going on.

The sky became black, thunder roared, lightning flashed, and rain fell in torrents. Great flocks of crows flew over the field, caw-cawing, in such a fearful manner that even the bravest felt afraid. and thought something dreadful was going to happen.

At this battle, too, cannon were used for the first time. Gunpowder had been invented only a short time before, and people did not yet know what a terrible thing it would become in battle. The English had four cannon. They were made of wood, bound round with iron, and, although perhaps they did not kill many people, they at least frightened the French, who already had so much else to make them afraid.

Meanwhile the black prince was fighting gallantly with his part of the army. But the French about him were so fierce that his knights began to fear for his safety. So a messenger was sent to the king, who was watching the battle from the windmill. "'Sire,' said the messenger, "'we entreat you to send help to the prince, your son.' "'Is my son dead?' asked the king. "'No, sire, thank God.' "'Is he wounded?' "'No, sire, but he is in danger. The French are fierce about him, and he is in need of help.' "'Then, sir,' replied the king, "'if my son is neither dead nor wounded, go back to those who sent you. Tell them not to send again to me this day. Tell them that if they do, I shall neither come nor send help so long as my son is living.

Tell them that I command them to let the boy win his spurs, for I wish the glory of the day to be his.' God will guard him.

The knight returned, and told the others what the king had said, and they were sorry that they had sent any such message, and resolved to fight to the last. Edward said that he wanted the prince to win his spurs. By that he meant that he hoped he would do such brave deeds that he might be made a knight. When any one was made a knight, he received a pair of golden spurs. So when a man did a great deed worthy of a knight, He was said to have won his spurs.

The king of Bohemia was with the French army, and his son Charles was fighting for Philip. The king himself could not fight, because he was blind. When he heard that the day was going against the French, he asked where his son was. "'We know not,' replied the knights who were round him. "'Doubtless he is in the thickest of the fight.' Really, he had fled from the field. But these gallant knights would not grieve their brave old king by telling him so. "'I, too, would strike a blow,' said the blind king. "'Lead me into battle.' The knights fastened their horses together with the king of Bohemia in the middle, so that they would not lose him in the crowd of soldiers, and dashed into the fight. When the day was over they were all found dead together, the king still in the middle of them, and their horses still bound to each other.

In those days a knight always had a crest and a motto, called a device, painted upon his shield. The crest of the king of Bohemia was three feathers, and his motto was, Ich Deen, which is German, and means, I serve. The arms of a fallen foe belonged to the conqueror. So, when after the battle the Black Prince was made a knight, he took the motto and the crest of the king of Bohemia for his own. It has been born ever since by the eldest son of the King of England, and that is why the Prince of Wales has a German motto.

When night fell, and the terrible noise and clamour of fighting ceased, the French were beaten, and their King had fled from the field. The King of England came down from the windmill where he had remained watching the fight. He had not struck a blow, nor put on his helmet all day, not because he was a coward, but because he wanted the black prince to have all the praise of the victory. There, on the battlefield, he took his son in his arms and kissed him. "'Dear son,' he said, "'God give you strength to go on as you have begun. Bravely and nobly have you fought, and you are worthy to be a king. The honor of the day is yours.'" The prince bowed before his father. "'I do not deserve any praise,' he said.

I have only done my duty. But he had shown himself so brave that his father made him a knight. He was one of the first knights of the Order of the Garter, a new order which Edward III founded, and the king can bestow upon any one. You shall hear why it was called by this name.

King Edward III loved the stories of Arthur and his knights of the Round Table. He made a new round table, and tried to bring back those nightly days, and to make his knights and gentlemen courteous and gentle. One day, at a ball, Edward picked up a lady's garter. Some one laughed rudely, but Edward turned to him and said, «Au ne soit qui mal pense?» Which is French, and means, «Evil be to him who evil thinks. Soon, he added, You shall see this garter set so high that you will think it an honor to wear it. And so, when he founded a new order of knighthood, he made it the order of the garter, and to this day great men are proud to wear it. It was founded on St. George's Day, and the ornament which the knights of the garter wear is called the George.

www.kra.org on July 8th. April 28, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

48 047 - The Siege of Calais 11:53

E. Marshall. Chapter XLVII. Edward III of Windsor. The Story of the Siege of Calais Five days after the Battle of Crecy, Edward began to besiege the town of Calais. He did not fight, for the fortifications were so strong that he knew it would be useless. He made his men build a ring of wooden houses round Calais, in which they could live until the people of the town were starved into giving in. When the governor of Calais saw what Edward was doing, he gathered all the weak Poor and old people who were not able to fight, and sent them out of the town.

He did this so that there would be fewer people to feed, and therefore the food they had in the town would last longer.

King Edward was surprised to see all these people leave the town, and he asked them what it meant. "'We have no food nor money, and cannot fight,' they replied. "'So the governor has sent us away.' Then Edward, instead of making them return into the town, gave them a good dinner and some money, and allowed them to go safely through his camp, to the country beyond.

For nearly a year Calais held out bravely. Day after day the people hoped that the king of France would come with his army to help them. But day after day passed, and no one came. "'We have eaten everything,' wrote the governor to Philip. Even the cats, and dogs, and horses, and there is nothing left for us but to die of hunger unless you come soon. You will get no more letters from me, but if you do not come you will hear that the town is lost, and all we who are in it also.

At last one morning the watchman on the walls saw the gleam of spears, and heard the drums and trumpet-call of the French army. When the good news was told, the joy in Calais was great. Pale and thin from want of food, Hardly able to walk or stand, the people yet crowded to the walls. Oh, what joy! At last they would be free! The king had not forgotten them.

But the day passed. There was no movement in the French camp. No battle-cry was heard, no sounds of war. "'To-morrow,' said the men of Calais sadly, "'to-morrow the king will fight. To-morrow we will open our gates to our victorious army.' But the next day and the next passed by, while the King of England strengthened his camp, and the King of France talked of peace. Then one morning the sun shone upon the army of Philip of France, with its gay banners and glittering spears, as it turned, and marched away, without having struck one blow for the town and its brave defenders. Calais was left to misery and tears. All hope was lost. "'Our king has forsaken us,' said the people sadly. When the governor saw that there was indeed no hope, he mounted upon the walls, waving a white flag.

King Edward saw the signal, and sent two of his knights to talk with the governor. "'Are you willing to give up the town?' they asked. "'Yes,' replied the governor. "'We have kept the town well and truly for our king, but now we can hold out no longer.' We have nothing more to eat, and we are all perishing of hunger. I will yield the town and castle, with all its riches and treasures, if King Edward will grant us our lives." "'Nay,' replied the knights, "'our noble king will not accept these terms. You and your people have been too stubborn in resisting him, and have cost him too much. You must give yourselves up, freely and entirely. Whom he pleases he will set free. Whom he pleases he will put to death."

"'These terms are too hard,' replied the governor. "'We have only done our duty. We have fought for our king and master, as you have for yours. We know the king of England is noble and generous. It cannot be that he will deal so hardly with us. Go back, I entreat you, and beg him to have pity.' So the two knights rode back and told King Edward what the governor had said. But Edward was stern. "'I will listen to no conditions,' he said. "'What, am I to wait twelve months, and then have the saucy rascals make conditions? No, let them yield themselves entirely into my hands.' But Edward's knights were so full of admiration for the noble men of Calais, and they begged their king so earnestly to be merciful, that at last he gave way.

"'My lords,' he said, "'I cannot hold out against you all. Go back to the governor.' Tell him to send me six of the chief men of Calais. They must come dressed in their shirts, with bare heads and feet, with ropes round their necks, and with the keys of the castle and town in their hands. These six shall be mine to do with what I will. The rest shall go free. One of the knights, who had before spoken to the governor, now returned, and told him what the king had said. "'I beg of you,' said the governor, "'To wait, until I have spoken to the townspeople. It is they who must give the answer.' "'I will wait,' said the knight. The governor left the walls, and going to the market-place told the bellman to ring the great bell.

At the sound of it all the people of Calais, both men and women, hurried to the town hall. They were full of wonder and hope. They knew something great must have happened. "'What is it?' they asked. "'What is it?' When the people were all gathered together, the governor stood up among them and spoke. He told them of all that he had said and done, and what a hard answer the king of England had returned. When he had finished speaking, the men groaned, and the women wept. They were all worn with suffering and hunger. For weeks and weeks they had not had enough to eat, and they could no longer bear the pain of it. Where would six men be found brave enough to give their lives for the others? Even the governor, who, all through the terrible year, had encouraged and cheered the people, now lost heart.

Hiding his face in his hands, he, too, burst into tears.

For a few minutes there was dreadful silence, broken only by low sobs. Then a brave man called Eustace de Saint-Pierre stood up. He was one of the richest and most important men of the town. "'Friends,' he said, "'it would be a great wrong to allow so many people to die, if in any way it could be prevented. I have such faith and trust in God that I pray he will not forget me if I die to save my fellow-townsmen. I offer myself as the first of the six.'" When Eustace had finished speaking, the people crowded round him. They fell at his feet, They kissed his hands. They thanked and blessed him. Then, amidst the sobs and cries of the people, another and another man rose, till six of the richest merchants of Calais stood together, ready to die for their friends.

With ropes round their necks, with bare feet and heads, and carrying the keys of the town in their hands, these six brave men walked through the streets, followed by the townspeople, who wept and sobbed, and blessed them as they went.

The governor, who was hardly able to walk, rode before them, mounted upon a poor little thin pony. When they came to the gates of the town, he commanded them to be opened, and the gates, which for a whole year had opened neither to friend nor foe, now swung wide. The governor passed out, and with bent heads the six men followed, Feeling that they were saying farewell for ever to their beloved town. Then the heavy gates were closed again behind them.

The governor led the way to the outer wall where the English knight still waited. Then he stopped. "'As governor of Calais,' he said, "'I deliver up to you these six citizens. I swear to you that they are no mean men, but the richest and greatest of our town.' "'I beg of you, gentle sir, out of the goodness of your heart, to pray the king that he will not put them to death.' "'I cannot answer for what the king will do,' replied the knight. "'But this I swear to you. I will do all that is in my power to save them.' Then the barriers were opened, the six brave men passed out, and the governor slowly and sadly returned to the town. The knight at once brought the six men of Calais to the king's tent.

There they fell upon their knees, presenting the keys of the city to him. "'We are yours to do with what you will,' they said. "'But, noble king, pity our misery, and spare us.' The king looked at them darkly. He hated the people of Calais, not only because they had held out against him for so long, but because they often fought with his ships at sea and did them much damage. So instead of listening to the prayers of the brave men, he ordered their heads to be cut off.

All the lords and knights round him begged him to have mercy, but he would not hear. The knight who had brought the men from Calais begged hardest. "'All the world will say that you have acted cruelly if you put these men to death,' he said. "'They come of their own free will, and give themselves into your hands, in order to save their fellows.' Such a noble deed should be rewarded, not punished.

But the king only waved his hand, as if to say that he did not care what all the world said, and ordered the headsman to be sent for. Then Queen Philippa fell upon her knees beside him, weeping. "'Ah, my dear lord,' she said, "'I have never before asked a favour from you, but now I beg you, by the love you have to me, let these men go.' The king looked at her in silence, and tried to raise her from her knees, but still she knelt, and still she begged for the lives of these brave men. "'Ah, lady,' said Edward at last, "'I would you were anywhere but here, for I can refuse you nothing. Take the men. They are yours. Do with them as you please.' Then there was rejoicing indeed. The queen led the men away to her own rooms.

She ordered clothes to be given to them, and made a great feast for them. They had not had such a dinner for many months. When they were clothed and fed, Queen Philippa sent them away, each with a large sum of money. So ended the siege of Calais.

On July 8, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

49 048 - The Battle of Poitiers 7:28

E. Marshall. Chapter 48 Edward, the Third of Windsor, the Story of the Battle of Poitiers.

Nine years passed, and the quarrelling between France and England still went on, and in 1356 a.d. the English, under the Black Prince, gained another great victory over the French. Philip, the King of France, had died, and his son John now reigned. He came against the English with such a great army that the Black Prince, rather than fight, offered to set free all the prisoners he had made, to give up all the French towns which he had taken, and to promise not to fight against the French for seven years. But that did not satisfy King John. He demanded that the prince and the whole English army should give themselves up as prisoners. The Black Prince refused even to think of such a thing. Then King John said that he would be satisfied if the prince and one hundred of his best knights gave themselves up, Again the black prince refused, and he and his men prepared to fight, and to win or die.

"'My men,' said the prince, "'we are only a very small body compared with the army of the French. But numbers do not always bring victory. Therefore fight manfully, and, if it please God and St. George, you shall see me this day act like a true English knight.' The prince posted his army very cleverly. Only narrow lanes led to the place he had chosen, behind the hedges of which his archers were hidden. As the French knights rode down the lanes, the English archers shot so fast and well that the knights knew not where to turn, and soon the lanes were filled with dead and dying men and horses.

The English shouted, St. George! The French, St. Denis! And fiercely the battle raged. But in spite of their bravery and their numbers, the French lost the day, and both King John and his son were taken prisoner. They were led before the Black Prince, who received them very kindly, and treated them as friends, rather than as prisoners. When the evening came and supper was served, the Prince made the French King and his son take the most honored places at table, and instead of sitting down to eat with them, He himself waited upon them. King John begged the Black Prince to sit down to supper with him, but he would not. "'It is honour enough for me,' he said, "'to serve so great a king and so brave a soldier.'" After the Battle of Poitiers, the Black Prince remained in France for some time.

Then he set out for England, taking King John with him. When King Edward heard that they were coming, he gave orders to the people of London to make the city bright and beautiful in honor of the King of France. So the houses were decked with flags and wreaths of flowers, and the people dressed in their holiday clothes, marched through the streets in gay crowds, cheering the King of France and their own brave prince.

King John was mounted upon a beautiful white horse, and beside him rode the Black Prince on a little black pony. It seemed as if the prince wanted to do everything in his power to make King John forget that he was a prisoner. But in spite of all the kindness shown to him by King Edward and the Black Prince, John found the months during which he was kept a prisoner, and unable to go back to his own dear land, long and weary. At last, after four years, Edward made peace with France for a time, and set King John free, on condition that he paid a large sum of money.

King John returned to his own land, but as he could not find enough money with which to pay Edward, he came back to prison like an honorable man, and died in England. All these wars in France had cost a great deal of money. The English people were proud of their king and prince, and glad that they should win so many battles, and make the name of England famous. But the people had to pay for these wars. They had to pay tax after tax, and their poverty and misery grew greater year by year.

It is true the king could no longer tax the people how and when he liked, for the power of Parliament grew stronger and stronger. It was only through Parliament that the king could now get the money he required, and whenever they gave it to him they made him promise something in return. In this way, as the power of Parliament grew, the power of the king became less, and the country became really more free.

But the poor, who were robbed of nearly all their money, found it difficult to understand this. So many men had been killed in the wars that there were too few to do all the work of the land. There were still slaves in England at this time, and when these slaves saw that there were not enough people to do the work, they rebelled and refused to work without wages. Other people joined them, and so there was war between rich and poor. Besides poverty, a terrible sickness, called the Black Death, fell upon the land. Thousands upon thousands died until there were not enough people left in the land to sow and reap and plough. The fields lay barren, no corn was grown, and the people starved. These were very unhappy times for England.

King Edward's wars still went on, and it became more and more difficult to find money for them, and, instead of always winning battles, he now often lost them. To the sorrow of every one, the brave Black Prince died. His health had been broken by the terrible hardships of his long wars in France. At last he became so ill that he could no longer sit upon his horse, nor lead his soldiers in battle, and he came home to England to die. He was buried with great pomp in Canterbury Cathedral. There his tomb is still to be seen, And over it there still hangs the black armour which he used to wear, and from which he took his name of the Black Prince. King Edward died shortly after his son, and his long reign, which had been so brilliant and glorious, ended in darkness and misery, for the people, instead of loving and admiring their king, had grown to hate him.

50 049 - Wat Tyler's Rebellion 13:23

E. Marshall. Chapter 49. Richard, the Second of Bordeaux. The Story of Wat Tyler's Rebellion.

When Edward III died in 1377 AD, his grandson Richard, the son of the Black Prince, became king. He was only a boy of eleven, but the people already loved him for the sake of his brave father, and there was great rejoicing when he was crowned. Like so many other boy kings, Richard was too young to reign, and the power was really in the hands of his uncle, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. The people hoped that with a new king happier times would come for them, but they were soon disappointed, and John of Gaunt was hated, as Edward had been hated in his last years. The war with France still went on, although it became harder and harder to find money with which to pay the soldiers, and the people were taxed more and more heavily.

A new tax, called the poll tax, had been first paid in the reign of Edward, the third. Poll means head, and it was really a tax upon the head of every one in the kingdom over the age of fourteen. Rich people had to pay more than poor people. Still, it was the poor who felt the burden most. This tax was now made three times as heavy as it had been, and the poor were driven almost to despair. Rough, rude men were sent all over the country to gather the money. These men insulted and ill-treated the people, and at last one of them behaved so brutally to the daughter of a man called Watt, that Watt struck him on the head with his hammer and killed him.

This man, Watt, or Walter, was a tyler of houses, and from that he was called Watt the tyler, or tyler. In those days people very often took their names from the work they did. As soon as it became known that Watt Tyler had killed a tax collector, the people of the town flocked round him. They had been ready to rise in rebellion before, and now this action of Watt decided them. They armed themselves with any kind of weapon upon which they could lay hands—sticks, rusty swords, old bows, and featherless arrows—and began to march to London. Everywhere, as they passed along through towns and villages, others joined them, and men, leaving their carts and ploughs in the fields, forsook their wives and children till, when they reached London, they were a great army of one hundred thousand men.

The chief leaders of this army were Watt Tyler, Jack Straw, and a priest called John Ball. The priest had done a great deal towards stirring up the people against their masters. He had already been put into prison three times for preaching that all men should be equal, and that it was wicked for one man to have more money than another. "'When Adam delved, and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?' he asked. Many of those who had joined Watt Tyler hardly knew what they wanted, They knew only that they were miserable and poor, and they hoped that if they saw the king he would do something to make them happy. They blamed John of Gaunt for the misery they suffered, and on the road to London they stopped all whom they met and made them swear to be true to Richard II, and never to accept any one of the name of John as king.

When they came near London they camped upon Blackheath, and sent messengers to the king, begging to be allowed to speak with him. "'You need not fear,' they said. "'We will do you no harm. We have always respected you, and will respect you as our king. But we have many things to say to you which you ought to hear.' "'Tell them,' said King Richard, "'that to-morrow I will meet their leaders by the river.' This answer gave the peasants great joy, and they camped for the night as best they could. They had no tents, nor covering of any kind, And many of them had no supper, for they had eaten any food which they had brought with them, and had no money to buy more.

The next day the young king rowed down the river to talk to the people as he had promised. But when he saw what a great crowd there was he would not land. He sat in his boat, and tried to talk to the leaders as they stood upon the bank, but they were angry because he would not land, and made such a noise that it was impossible to hear anything. Tell me what you want. shouted the king. I have come to hear what you have to say. You must land first. Then we will tell you what we want, yelled the crowd in return. But Richard was afraid to land, and indeed the barons and lords would not allow him to do so. So after rowing up and down the river for some time, trying in vain to make himself heard by the howling, yelling crowd on the bank, he returned to the tower where he was living.

When the people saw the king row away, they were madly angry. They had been quiet and orderly. They were so no longer. "'Let us march to London,' they said, "'and take it.'" The mayor of London shut the city gates, but the poor people within opened them to their friends, and the yelling crowd poured into the city. They broke into all the shops where food was sold, eating and drinking as much as they wanted. They burned and wrecked John of Gaunt's house, called the Savoy, which was the most beautiful palace in London. Other houses and some churches were destroyed, and many people were killed.

The prisons were broken open, and all the prisoners set free. Yet the rioters did not steal. They burned and threw into the river the beautiful furniture and jewels belonging to John of Gaunt, because they hated him and blamed him for their misery, but they would not allow anything to be taken away. One man who was seen to steal a piece of silver was thrown into the flames, and burned alive as a punishment by his companions. "'We are not thieves and robbers,' they said. "'We are fighting only for truth and justice.' As the day went on, the noise grew greater and greater, and when night came, the rioters collected in the square in front of the tower. There they made a terrible noise, swearing that, if the king did not come out to them, they would burn the tower.

The king and his friends held a council together, and Richard decided the next day he would again try to speak with the people. He sent a message to them, telling them to go to an open space called Mile End, and that there he would come to speak with them in the morning. A great many of the people, when they heard this, marched to Mile End, but others refused to go away from the tower. Next morning, as soon as the gates were opened for the king to pass out, these rioters rushed in. They killed many of the people in the tower, and nearly frightened the king's mother, the Princess of Wales, to death. Meanwhile Richard rode to Mile End, and found a great company of people awaiting him there. As soon as he was near enough he spoke to them kindly.

"'My good people,' he said, "'I am your king. What is it you want, and what do you wish to say to me?' "'We want you to make us free for ever, both ourselves and our children. We will not be slaves any longer,' they replied. "'You have your wish,' answered Richard. "'Now go home quietly.' Leave behind you one or two men from each village. To them I will give letters, signed and sealed with my seal, promising what you ask.

Then the people, who really did not know quite what they wanted, set up a great shout for the king, and went back to their homes. Richard gave orders to about thirty secretaries, who wrote the letters as fast as they could. They sat up all night to write. These letters promised freedom to all the slaves, and as soon as they were written, they were signed and sealed with the king's seal, and given to the men who waited for them. But Watt Tyler had not been with the rioters at Mile End, and he would not agree to go home. He wanted the king to promise much more than that there should no longer be slaves in England. Next day, while he and his followers were gathered at a place called Smithfield, the king came riding by, attended only by a few friends and soldiers.

"'Here is the king,' said Watt. "'I will go speak to him. You must not move until I give you a signal.' He waved his hand, and added, "'When you see me make this sign, run forward and kill every man of them except the king. Do not kill him, for he is young, and we can make him do what we like.' Then he set spurs to his horse, and galloped towards Richard. who was waiting to see what the rebels meant to do. "'King,' said Watt, "'do you see all those men there?' "'Yes,' replied the king, "'I do. Why do you ask?' "'Because they are all under my orders,' said Watt, "'and have sworn to do whatever I command them.' "'I have no objection to that,' replied the king, and he went on to speak quietly and peaceably to Watt Tyler, but Watt was too angry to listen.

Finding that he could not quarrel with the king, he began to do so with one of the gentlemen beside him. Hot words passed between them, till Richard, growing angry, turned to the mayor of London, who was also there, and told him to seize Wat Tyler. "'Truly,' said the mayor, "'it ill becomes such a rascal to use such words in the presence of the king. I will pay him for it.' And raising his sword, he struck Wat Tyler a blow on the head. Wat fell to the ground. The king's friends closed round him, and a minute later he was dead. When Wat Tyler's men saw him fall, they called out, "'They have killed our captain! Let us slay them all!' and they ran towards the king with their bows bent, ready to shoot.

Then Richard did a brave thing. Forbidding any of his men to follow him, he rode alone toward the rioters. "'Friends,' he said, What are you doing? I am your king. Follow me. I myself shall be your leader."

At these words many of the rioters were ashamed. Some of them at once slipped quietly away, and Richard, putting himself at the head of the others, led them out into the country. Meanwhile some of Richard's company had fled back into London, crying, "'They are killing the king! They are killing the king!' When the people heard that, many of the king's soldiers came running together, and an army marched out to the fields to meet Richard and the rebels.

As soon as he saw them, the king left the rebels and put himself at the head of his own soldiers. Several of the nobles then wished to attack the rebels, but Richard forbade them to do so. But he ordered all the letters promising freedom, which the rioters had among them, to be given up at once on pain of instant death.

As soon as the king received the letters, he tore them up in sight of the rebels. These poor people now saw all their hopes of freedom gone. Their leader, too, was dead. So, not waiting for more, they broke and fled they hardly knew where. Many of them returned to their homes, but John Ball and Jack Straw were cruelly betrayed by the very men they had tried to help and free. They were beheaded by Richard's orders, along with many of their followers. The king did not keep any of his promises to the people. "'Slaves you are, and slaves you shall remain,' he said savagely, when the danger to himself was over. It seemed as if the rising had been in vain, but that was not so. Many masters freed their slaves, and although years passed before all were free, Wattyler's rebellion was the beginning of freedom for the lower classes in England.

Up to this time, many of the laborers and workers who were free men had been treated almost as badly as slaves, but now their condition became better.

End of chapter 49. Read by Kara Schallenberg. www.kray.org. On July 8th, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

51 050 - How King Richard II Lost his Throne 5:18

How King Richard II Lost His Throne.

Richard was only a boy of fifteen when he faced the rioters at Smithfield so bravely, and afterward broke his promises so basely. It would have been better for England if he had always been brave as he was the day he faced the rioters, and never base as he was afterward.

It was not until Richard was twenty-one that he really ruled. Until then his uncles ruled for him. "'How old do you think I am, uncle?' he said suddenly to one of them at a feast. "'Your Highness is in his twenty-second year,' replied he. "'Then I am surely old enough to rule. I thank you for your past help, uncle. I require it no longer.' And before his uncle could recover from his surprise, Richard had asked for the great seal and keys of office, and had proclaimed to the people that in the future he himself should rule. And for a time, Richard ruled well. He made peace with France, and the taxes on the poor were made lighter. But this was not for long. It was soon seen that he intended to do exactly as he liked, and would take advice from no one.

He banished and outlawed those who tried to keep him in check. As he was always in need of money, he seized the lands and money of these banished people, and did many other wicked and dishonest things. At last, the king, who had been placed upon the throne amid so much rejoicing, came to be hated and despised.

One of the people whom Richard had banished was his cousin, Henry of Bolingbroke, the son of his uncle, John of Gaunt. Soon after Henry had been banished, John of Gaunt died, and Richard, in spite of having promised not to do so, seized his land and money. When Henry heard of this, he came back to England to take possession of his own inheritance, he said, but really to try to win the crown of England. The people had always loved Henry, and had been very sorry when he was banished, and now they welcomed him back with joy, hoping that he would free them from their hated king. Henry came with only fifteen knights, but as soon as he landed many people flocked to him.

Richard at this time was in Ireland, trying to put down a rebellion there. As soon as he heard that Henry was in England he hurried home, but he was too late. Henry was already master of the country. Richard brought a large army with him from Ireland, but many of the soldiers deserted almost as soon as they landed. and joined the standard of Henry. At last, forsaken by all, in utter despair, without food or clothes, or even a bed upon which to sleep, Richard was forced to submit to his cousin.

They met at the castle of Flint in Wales. Henry knelt to Richard as to his king, and kissed his hand. "'Fair cousin,' said Richard, looking down upon him, "'You are right welcome.' "'My lord,' replied Henry, "'I am come somewhat before my time.' "'By which he meant that he had a right to the throne after the death of Richard, but that he had not waited until then.' "'But,' he went on, "'I will tell you the reason. Your people complain that you have ruled them badly these twenty years. Please, God, I will now help you to rule them better.' And the poor, broken, spiritless king replied, "'Fair cousin, if it pleaseth you, it pleaseth me right well.' But when Richard was left alone, he burst out in a furious rage.

"'Would to heaven that I had killed when I might this false cousin, this Henry of Bolingbroke!' Amid the curses of his people, forsaken even by his favourite dog, which left him for Henry, Richard, the second, was led a prisoner to the Tower of London. There he solemnly gave up his right to the crown, and Henry of Bolingbroke was made king. This was in 1399 A.D. Richard was afterwards sent to Pontefract Castle in Yorkshire, where, it is believed, he was cruelly murdered.

52 051 - The Battle of Shrewsbury 7:10

Henry, the fourth of Bolingbroke. The story of the Battle of Shrewsbury.

Henry, the fourth knew quite well that he was not the real heir to the throne, although he tried to make people believe that he was. The real heir was Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March. Richard, the second, was the son of Edward, the Black Prince, who was the eldest son of Edward, the third. Edmund Mortimer was descended from Lionel of Clarence, who was the third son of Edward, the third. Henry Bolingbroke was descended from John of Gaunt, who was the fourth son of Edward III. So, of course, Edmund Mortimer had a better right to the throne than Henry Bolingbroke had. But Edmund Mortimer was only a little boy, and, like so many other little princes, he was passed over and forgotten. The people chose rather to have a strong man who could really rule than a little boy who could rule only in name.

But Henry was afraid of Edmund, and kept him a prisoner in Windsor Castle, Although he was not otherwise unkind to him.

Henry had seized the throne in an unlawful manner, and he found that it was no easy matter to keep it. No sooner was he crowned than plots thickened around him, and people who had hated Richard were now sorry that they had put Henry on the throne. The Welsh, who had been conquered by Edward I, had never been content to live under the rule of English kings, and Owen Glendower, a Welsh nobleman, now rebelled against Henry. He called himself the Prince of Wales, claiming to be descended from Llewellyn, that Welsh prince whom Edward I had defeated and killed.

Nearly all Wales joined Owen Glendower, and although Henry went against them with a large army, he was not able to subdue them. The Welsh took several of Henry's nobles prisoner, among them Sir Edmund Mortimer. This Sir Edmund was an uncle of the young Earl of March, whom Henry kept in prison at Windsor. Henry was quite pleased that Sir Edmund should be a captive, because he was afraid that he might at some time try to put his nephew on the throne. The Scots had meanwhile also been fighting with the English, and had been defeated by the Earl of Northumberland and his young son, who was called Harry Hotspur. He was called Hotspur because he was so quick and brave in battle. Harry Hotspur and his father had taken the Scottish leader, Douglas, prisoner.

They expected to get a large ransom from the Scots for him, but Henry said that Douglas must be given up to him. This made the Persys, as Harry Hotspur and his father recalled, very angry. They thought that, as they had taken Douglas prisoner, they had a right to the money which would be paid for his release. The Perses then asked Henry to send money to Owen Glendower to ransom Edmund Mortimer, for Edmund was Harry Hotspur's dear friend. But Henry refused. He did not wish Edmund to be free, because he was afraid of him. This refusal made the Perses still more angry. The Perses had helped to put Henry on the throne, but now they became so angry with him that they were sorry that they had done so, and they turned against him.

Instead of giving up Douglas to Henry, the Perses set him free, on condition that he should help them to fight against the king. They made friends with Owen Glendower, who set Edmund Mortimer free, and persuaded him also to join them against Henry. When the king heard of this great rebellion, he marched with a large army to Shrewsbury, and there he defeated the Perses before Owen Glendower could come with his soldiers to their help. King Henry had been told that some of the rebel nobles had sworn to kill him, so he went into battle in plain armor, while four or five knights went dressed like the king. These knights were all killed, Douglas himself killing three of them. "'I marvel to see so many kings rise thus one after the other,' he said.

"'I have this day slain three.' But the real king was not among them, although he was, in the battle, fighting bravely.

The Prince of Wales, or Prince Hal, as he was often called, was only a boy, but he did great deeds at this battle, and even when he had been badly wounded he would not leave the field until victory for his father was sure. Harry Hotspur was killed, Douglas taken prisoner, and so with this one battle the rebellion was almost at an end. Henry next marched against Owen Glendower, but still he could not subdue him. Owen fought against Henry all his life, and at last died among the lonely mountains of Wales, still free and still unconquered. Henry, the fourth, had a very unquiet reign. He was in constant fear of rebellion in England, and besides the Welsh, the Scots and the French were always fighting with him.

But a great misfortune fell upon the Scottish king, which forced him to make peace with Henry. The Scots and the French had always been good friends, and now King Robert III sent his little son, James, to France to learn French. But while on his way there his ship was captured by the English, and Prince James, who was only nine years old, was taken a prisoner to London. Henry was very glad to have Prince James in his power, for the Scots were now afraid to fight against him in case he should do some harm to their little prince. "'If the Scots had been kind,' said Henry, "'they would have sent their prince to me. I could teach him the French language as well as any Frenchman.' When the King of Scotland heard that his son had fallen into the hands of his enemy, he was so sad and afraid that he died of a broken heart.

The King's brother, the Duke of Albany, wanted to rule Scotland himself, so he was pleased that James was a prisoner, and did not try to make Henry set him free.

Although King Henry kept Prince James in prison, he allowed him to have books and teachers, who taught him many things which were afterwards useful to him, and helped him to become a good king. He also wrote some very beautiful poetry while he was in prison, so those years were not altogether lost. in Oceanside, California.

53 052 - How Prince Hal was Sent to Prison 5:00

Henry IV of Bolingbroke. The Story of how Prince Hal was sent to prison.

Prince Hal was clever and brave, but he was so wild and fond of fun that he was called Madcap Hal. He spent a great deal of time with gay companions, and often got into mischief. One day a servant of Prince Hal, having done something wicked, was taken before the Lord Chief Justice Gascoigne to be tried and punished. When Prince Hal heard about it he was very angry, and went at once to the court-house. He strode up to where his servant was standing, and, turning to the officer beside him, "'Take off those fetters,' he said. "'Let my man go free. How dare you arrest my servant?' "'My lord prince,' said Judge Gascoigne calmly, "'your servant has broken the law, and must be punished by the law. If you wish to save him, you must go to the king your father, and beg mercy from him.

He can grant it if he thinks fit.' Now, I pray you leave the court, and allow me to deal, as I think just, with the prisoner. Prince Hal was very angry at being spoken to like this. He was so angry that he hardly knew what he was doing, and, springing forward, he struck the judge in the face. The people in the court were dumb with astonishment and fear. What would happen next, no one knew. The prince was in such a passion that they were afraid he might kill the judge. But Judge Gascoigne sat quite still and unmoved. "'Sir,' he said sternly to the prince, "'remember that I am here in place of the king, your lord and father. In his name I charge you to give up your sword. For your contempt and disobedience I send you to prison.

There you shall remain until the will of the king your father shall be known.' At these calm, grave words the prince was ashamed. All his anger vanished, and, taking off his sword, he bowed humbly to the judge, and went quietly to prison. As soon as the prince had gone, some of his servants ran to tell the king what had happened. They expected him to be very angry with the judge. But after hearing the story, the king sat silent for a few minutes. Then he said, "'I thank God that he has given me a judge who does not fear to do justice, and a son who can obey the law.' Towards the end of his troubled reign, Henry IV was often ill, and although very unwilling to do so, he was obliged to allow Prince Hal to help in ruling the kingdom.

Once, while the king was ill, Prince Hal came into his room, and finding him lying very still and quiet, thought that he was dead. The crown was beside the king's bed, and the prince lifted it, put it on his own head, and went away.

But the king was not dead. And when he awoke and found that the crown was gone, he was greatly alarmed. He called to his nobles, who were in a room near. "'Why have you left me alone? Someone has stolen the crown.' The nobles came running to the king. "'The prince was with you, my lord, while you slept,' they said. "'He must have taken the crown.' "'The prince took it,' said the king. "'Go, bring him here.' When he was told that the king was not dead, Prince Hal returned at once. With tears in his eyes he knelt beside his father's bed. "'I never thought to hear you speak again,' he said. And the king replied sadly, "'Thy wish was father, Henry, to that thought. I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.

Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair that thou wilt needs invest thee with mine honours before thy hour is ripe? O foolish youth!' Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee. Oh, pardon me, my liege," said Prince Hal, weeping, and the king pardoned and blessed him before he died. How I came by the crown, O God, forgive, and grant it may with thee in true peace live.

on July 13, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

54 053 - The Battle of Agincourt 8:28

Henry V. of Monmouth. The Story of the Battle of Agincourt.

When Prince Hal came to the throne in 1413 a.d., he gave up all his wild ways, and tried to rule as a wise king should. Judge Gascoigne was very much afraid that he would suffer now for having sent the prince to prison. But Henry had a noble mind. He knew that the judge had only done what was right. So after he became king, Henry treated Judge Gascoigne as a friend, and when he gave up his judgeship, it was because he was a very old man. Still be my judge, he said, and if I should ever have a son who does wrong, I hope you will punish him as you did me.

Therefore still bear the balance and the sword, and I do wish your honors may increase, till you do live to see a son of mine offend you, and obey you, as I did. So shall I live to speak my father's words. Happy am I that have a man so bold that dares do justice on my proper son, and no less happy having such a son that would deliver up his greatness so into the hands of justice.

Henry came peacefully to the throne, but he had no better right to it than his father had. There were many people who could not forget that, and it was not long before plots were formed. But Henry put down these plots, And then he thought of fighting with France.

You remember how Edward III had claimed to be King of France as well as King of England, and how he did indeed conquer a great part of France. But at the end of his reign, and during the reigns of Richard II and Henry IV, all that he had conquered had again been lost. Of the many French lands, which had at one time belonged to England, only the town of Calais remained. Henry V made up his mind to try to win back these lands. He thought that if the plots against him became too strong, and he were driven from the throne of England, he could then still be king of France. The eldest son of the king of France was called the Dauphin, just as the eldest son of the king of England is always called the Prince of Wales.

At this time the king of France was mad, so the Dauphin ruled. When he heard that Henry V was coming to fight against him, he sent a present of some tennis-balls. "'Tell the English king,' he said to his messenger, "'that he is too young and foolish to claim dukedoms here. It will be better for him to amuse himself at home with these balls.' Henry laughed when he received the present, and sent back this message. "'And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his hath turned his balls to gunstones.' Henry gathered his army, and, landing in France, laid siege to the town of Harfleur. The town held out bravely for a long time, and, when at last it fell, the English army was so worn out, so many of them had been killed and wounded, that they were not strong enough to fight any more.

Yet Henry did not want to return to England, having only taken one French town. He resolved to march from Harfleur to Calais, and sail home from there. He would show the French that the English were not afraid of them. So the army left Harfleur, and day after day, ragged, hungry, and worn, they marched along the weary way towards Calais. Day after day passed, but no French soldiers ever came in sight till one evening, when they had gone about half the long journey, the enemy appeared. Even then, weary and worn though the English were, the French did not think themselves strong enough to attack, and fell back before them. But about forty miles from Calais, Henry found the French army right across his path.

If Calais was to be reached, the French must be beaten, and Calais had to be reached as it was the only way home, and Henry's men were utterly weary and almost starving. On the morning of the battle, Henry rode along the lines, cheering his poor tired soldiers. He had a gold crown upon his helmet, and the coat which he wore over his armor was embroidered with the leopards of England and the lilies of France, for already he called himself king of France and England. As Henry rode along, he heard one of his nobles say, "'I would that some of the thousands of warriors who lie idle this day in England were here to aid us.' "'Nay,' replied the king, "'I would not have one man more. If we win, the greater is the glory God gives to us.

If we die, the less is the loss to England.'" When Henry had ridden all along the lines, he got off his horse and took his place among his soldiers, with the royal standard waving over him. The fight began, and a terrible fight it was. It seemed as if it were the story of Crecy and Poitiers all over again. The French had an army ten times greater than that of the English. Many of the English, too, were sick and ill, weary, ragged, and half-fed. And yet they won the battle.

When it was over, Henry, riding across the field, met one of the French heralds. "'To whom does the victory belong?' he asked. "'To you, sire,' replied the man. "'Nay,' said the king, "'but to God! We English made not this great slaughter.' "'What fortress is that?' he added. "'For it is fitting that the battle should have a name.' "'That is the castle of Agincourt, sire,' replied the herald. "'Then Agincourt shall this battle be called,' said Henry. "'And by that name we know it.' "'This was one of the greatest battles ever fought between the French and English, but although the English won, The army was too worn out to do more, and so they went home to England.

But Henry soon gathered another army and returned to France. There was more fighting till, at last, five years later, peace was made, and Henry married Catherine, the daughter of the French king. It was arranged that King Charles, who, you remember, was mad, should keep the title of king while he lived, but that Henry should rule, and that when Charles died, Henry should be king of France. But about two years after this, Henry himself died. He was only thirty-four, and had reigned but ten years. He was a wise king, and ruled well, yet his great battles are what we hear most of in his reign, and they brought suffering and sorrow to many of his people. Still his people loved him, and their grief at his death was great.

Henry V. Too famous to live long. England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. England ne'er had a king until his time. Virtue he had deserving to command. His brandished sword did blind men with his beams. His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings. His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire, more dazzled and drove back his enemies than midday sun. Fierce bent against their faces. What should I say? His deeds exceed all speech. He ne'er lift up his hand, but conquered.

End of chapter 53. Read by Kara Schallenberg. W.W.K. Ray.org. On July 13th, 2006, in Oceanside, California.

55 054 - The Maid of Orleans 11:24

E. Marshall. Chapter Fifty-four. Henry, the fourth of Windsor. The story of the Maid of Orleans.

When Henry V died in 1422 a.d, his son, who was also called Henry, was only a tiny baby nine months old. Yet the people had loved Henry V so much that they chose that this tiny baby should be called their king. Of course, a baby nine months old, who could not even speak, could not rule. So his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, ruled instead. Queen Catherine, the baby's mother, married a Welsh gentleman called Owen Tudor, and took no part in ruling the kingdom. For a little time things seemed to go well, but soon troubles began. Charles, the mad king of France, died about two months after the death of Henry V, and the baby Henry VI was proclaimed king of France in his place. May God grant long life to Henry, by the grace of God, King of France and England," cried the heralds.

But the Dauphin, Charles, felt that he was the rightful heir, and he, too, called himself King of France.

The baby king, of course, did not know anything about what was happening, but his uncle John, Duke of Bedford, who ruled France for him, was very angry with the Dauphin, and began to fight with him. The English were so strong that at first they defeated the French armies, and the Dauphin was in despair. The Scots had been helping the French. To stop them doing so, the English said that they would set their king free if they would promise not to help the French any more. You remember that King James, when he was a little boy, had been taken prisoner by Henry IV, and he had now been in prison for nineteen years.

While in prison, James had seen a beautiful lady from his window, as she walked in the garden of the palace. He loved her, although he had never spoken to her, nor heard her speak. James was a poet, as well as a king, and he wrote some beautiful poetry about her. And therewith cast I down my eyes again, where, as I walking, saw beneath the tower, full secretly, new-coming to her play, The fairest and the freshest young flower that ever I saw, methought before that hour, for which sudden surprise anon did start the blood of all my body to my heart. And when she walked had a little time, under the sweet green branches bent, her fair, fresh face, as white as any snow, she turned it has, and forth her way she went.

But then began my sickness and torment, To see her go and follow not I might, Methought the day was turned into night. Bewailing in my chamber thus alone, Desparing of all joy and remedy, Oft weary of my thoughts and woe begone, Unto the window would I walk in haste to see the world and the folk who went forby. As for the time, though I of mirth's food might have no more, To look, it did me good. As soon as James was free, he married this beautiful lady, and went back to Scotland with her. But before he went, the English made him pay a large sum of money in return for all that had been spent on him while he was in prison. He also promised not to help the French in their battles with the English.

So this is why the Scots could no longer fight for the French. But other help came to them. They found a great leader who brought them victory. This great leader was a woman. In a peaceful little village, far away from the sounds of war, lived a peasant girl, called Jeanne d'Arc, or as we call her in English, Joan of Arc. She had never been to school. She could neither read nor write. Ever since she had been quite a little girl, she had had to work hard all day long in the fields and in the house. But although she was ignorant, Joan was gentle and good, and her heart was full of love for her country. From time to time, stories of battle and loss and death were brought to the little village by sick and wounded soldiers from the battlefields.

As Joan listened to these stories, tears filled her eyes, and a great longing grew in her heart to do something for her dear country. She spent long days alone in the fields taking care of her master's sheep. While she watched the sheep, she kept thinking and longing. "'What can I do?' she said to herself. "'I am only a poor, ignorant girl. What can I do for my country?' At last it seemed to her as if the empty air around her was full of voices, which answered her question. It seemed to her that saints and angels came to her, and whispered that she was chosen to free France. "'Put on the courage and the armor of a man,' said the voices, "'and lead the armies to victory.'" When Joan told people that God had chosen her as captain, they thought at first that she was mad, but she was so earnest and so sure that at last they took her to the Dauphin.

Dressed like a man in shining white armor, riding upon a beautiful white horse, and carrying a white banner sewed with the gold lilies of France, she looked so beautiful and so good that the dauphin and the soldiers could not but believe in her. So this peasant girl, who knew nothing of war, who had never before worn armor, nor carried a sword, nor ridden upon a horse, took command of the army. The rough soldiers honored, obeyed, and almost worshipped her. New hope sprang up in their hearts, new strength to fight. So full of courage were they now, that in less than a week, fortune changed, the English began to lose, and the French to win. Joan's first fighting was at Orleans, which had been besieged by the English for some months.

Joan beat the English, and drove them away. And because of that she was afterwards often called the Maid of Orleans. Battle after battle was fought. Town after town was taken from the English, until about two months from the time Joan began to fight, the French were so completely victorious that the Dauphin was crowned at Rheims. It was a very splendid sight. The church was crowded with knights and nobles and rejoicing people, but no one rejoiced more than the Maid of Orleans. Dressed still in her beautiful white armour, holding her white banner in her hand, she stood beside the dauphin as the crown was placed upon his head, and he was proclaimed King of France, instead of the little English King Henry VI.

Then, when all was over, Joan begged to be allowed to go home again, to tend sheep once more, and to be with her brothers and her sisters. "'They would be so glad to see me,' she said. "'My work here is done.' But the king would not let her go. The English still remained in the country, and fighting still went on. So Joan, as she was not allowed to go home, went on fighting too. But one sad day, during a battle, she was wounded, and taken prisoner by the English. The English were very glad of this, because they thought that she was a witch. In those days people still believed in witches, and were very much afraid of them. The English thought that no one who was not a witch could have done the wonderful things Joan had done.

After being kept in prison for nearly a year, Joan, young, beautiful, and good though she was, was burned as a witch, because she had freed her country. The English did not do this wicked deed, but what was almost as bad, they allowed their friends, the Burgundians, who were French, but who had been fighting on the English side, to do it.

After this, the English proclaimed Henry VI King of France at Paris, but it was only an empty show, for he was not really King of France. Fighting still went on, but the English lost more and more, till at last they had lost all the lands they had ever held in France. In 1451 A.D. only the town of Calais remained to them, and the Hundred Years' War, begun by Edward III in 1340 A.D., came to an end.

While these things were happening in France, the baby king of England was growing up to be a man, and a very weak man he grew to be. He was pulled this way and that among his many advisors who ruled the country and quarrelled among themselves.

The lords made the king marry a French lady called Margaret of Anjou. She was very strong-willed, and it was really she, more than King Henry, who ruled. The country was in a very unhappy state. The long wars with France had cost a great deal of money and a great many lives. The people were heavily taxed in order to pay for the wars. The men who were taken away for soldiers very often never came home again. There were not enough people in the country to do the work, and famine and disease and all kinds of misery followed.

At last the people rebelled, just as they had rebelled in the time of Richard II. under Watt Tyler. This time their leader was called Jack Cade. It all happened very much as before. The rebels marched to London and camped upon Blackheath. A battle was fought in which the King's men were defeated. Then Jack Cade and his followers were promised what they asked. Many of them afterwards went home quietly, but Jack Cade himself was killed. This rising lasted only a few weeks, but another struggle, which lasted thirty years, soon began. This struggle was called the Wars of the Roses.

End of chapter 54. This is the end of the first half of Our Island Story by H. E. Marshall.

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