CHAPTER XX.
_TURBULENT TIMES._
"Surely they will not submit!"
"To give up all at the bidding of a King of France! Why, as well mightwe be slaves at once!"
"I always said no good would come of seeking aid from such an one as he.England is no fief of France. What has Louis to do with her affairs?"
"The brother-in-law of the King!"
"Himself a tyrant, always seeking to curtail the rights of his ownnobles and people!"
"A tool of the Pope's and a foe to England!"
"It was shame they should seek to such a man as he! But surely--oh,surely our noble Earl will not be holden back from his righteous work bythat Mise of Amiens!"
All Oxford was in a state of intense excitement. The news had just beenbrought that the French King, whose arbitration had been sought upon thedispute between the King and the Barons of England, had just given hisdecision.
In every point he sided with Henry. All that the Barons and Commons ofthe realm had been struggling for these many years was to be set aside.England was to be given over to the Pope, and to be governed by aliens;for the award gave the King full power to choose his own counsellors,and as all men knew, he had scarce a single favourite who was not aforeigner. Everything was to be as before the Provisions of Oxford hadbeen drawn up; and the French King wound up by counselling both partiesto lay aside rancour, and live at peace, whilst he urged upon hisbrother of England to grant an amnesty to his Barons. It was the kind ofaward which any discerning man might have expected from one like Louisof France. He was a king who desired absolute power in his own realm,and although he had not abused that power as Henry had, he would not onthat account uphold the subjects of the neighbouring kingdom againsttheir sovereign. The marvel is that a man so far-seeing and astute as DeMontfort had ever pledged himself to be bound by the award of France. Hemight surely have foreseen, as it seems to us, what the nature of thataward would be.
England was furious--that part of it at least which followed thefortunes of the Earl. The bulk of the nation at that time, at any ratein the large and populous districts, was all for the cause ofconstitutional freedom; and the King was hated and distrusted by hissubjects, not without cause. Had his son been on the throne, mattersmight have taken a different turn; but although Edward was personallybeloved, and was becoming a strong power in the state, he was not yet ofsufficient account to change the aspect of affairs. He was acting withhis father, as was right and natural in the circumstances. He could notform a third party in the state. Had his father abdicated in his favour,the war might perhaps have been averted; but such a thing never enteredHenry's head. He was by no means weary of the task of ruling even such aturbulent people as his own was fast becoming.
All Oxford was in commotion. Keen excitement reigned everywhere. Thenews was three days old, yet the populace was as greatly stirred as atfirst. For once clerks and citizens were in accord, and denounced inunison the French King and the Mise of Amiens. The greatest eagernessfor fresh news prevailed throughout, and every traveller entering thecity was besieged for intelligence.
"When Lord Amalric comes back, then we shall know!" was a frequent cry.For Amalric had gone to Kenilworth for Christmas, and had not yetreturned. He was said to have been detained there by the accident to hisfather which had prevented the Earl himself from being present at theMise of Amiens.
Some thought that had De Montfort been there to urge his cause inperson, a different award might have been given; but this seems hardlyprobable in face of the French King's attitude all the way through. TheEarl had, however, intended being present; but just before he would haveleft the country his horse fell with him, breaking his leg, and he hadperforce to remain behind at Kenilworth, and appoint a commission torepresent him before the French King.
Amalric, however, would not be likely to remain long away from Oxford,and his friends awaited his coming with the same eagerness as the wholecity. When it was rumoured that he was on his way, and might be expectedat any hour, a constant watch was kept for him; and upon his arrival hewas received with the greatest enthusiasm, and found himself obliged tohalt at Carfax, and respond to the acclamations of the people, whilsthis ears were assailed by a thousand questions which he could onlypartially answer.
Amalric had awaited at Kenilworth the arrival of the news from France,and he was in a position to assure the citizens and clerks of Oxfordthat his father would not abandon the cause of liberty, despite theaward of Amiens.
This statement was received with thunders of applause; hats were wavedand weapons brandished, as though every man there was ready to go forthand fight for the liberty of the realm.
What would be the next step, and whether there was any chance ofpacification, Amalric could not say. His father, he averred, was veryloth to press matters to extremity; but he would sooner draw the swordand die wielding it, than see his country brought a second time underthe yoke of papal tyranny and foreign greed. If the King (as wasprobable) was now resolved to continue in these evil ways, the Barons,with the Earl of Leicester at their head, would stand forth against him.More than that he could not say, but upon that point they might restassured.
That was enough to raise shouts and cheers of enthusiastic joy. Thepeople crowded about Amalric, blessing him, and calling him by everysort of high-sounding name. To them he represented his father, and thegreat Earl was at present the idol of the city.
Amalric had some ado to get through the crowd and ride to the Castle,where he was received with great eagerness by his friends there. Thewhole family, together with Hugh le Barbier, had assembled in one of thelower rooms to meet him, and he had scarcely returned the greetingsshowered upon him ere he was called upon to tell his news, and to sayhow his father had received the tidings from Amiens.
At greater length than he had spoken to the crowd, he told the Constableand his friends of the resolve of the Barons to resist to the death. Itwas no more than Sir Humphrey, and indeed all thinking men, hadanticipated. To forego all that had been struggled for during these manyyears, and to tamely yield up the spoils of hard-fought fights, wasaltogether foreign to the nature of the English people, and to that oftheir leader.
"I would they had never asked the King of France," said the Constable,expressing the general sentiment; "I always said no good would come ofit. Louis of France may be a saint--of that I know nothing--but he isvery much a King, and as such would certainly uphold the royalprerogative on every point."
"And now, will there be war?" asked Hugh, speaking very gravely as heleaned over the back of the chair in which Linda was seated. DameMargaret and the two maidens had been permitted to come below towelcome Amalric back, and it might be noted how, as he told his tale,his eyes kept seeking ever and anon the face of the fair Alys. Now hecame a few steps nearer to make his reply.
"I fear me so. Unless the King hear reason, it can scarce be otherwise;and bolstered up as he now is by his brother-in-law of France, he islittle likely to show even the amount of moderation that he hassometimes done."
The faces of all grew grave. War had many times been spoken of, butalways as a thing not immediately probable; now it seemed indeed at thevery door, and the faces of all betrayed a greater or less amount ofanxiety. Amalric looked around him, as though to ask how far his friendswould support his party even in extremity; for when once the questioncame to be settled by force of arms, it was always doubtful how far menwould go. There were many who, whilst ardently desiring to see the Kingadvised for his good, would not take up arms against him, regarding himas the anointed servant of God.
This was indeed somewhat the view of Hugh le Barbier, and it wastherefore with keen pain that he contemplated the thought of civil war.His sympathies were with the Barons. His personal affection for Amalricinclined him to fight shoulder to shoulder with his comrade. But he hada deeply-seated repugnance to fighting against the lawful sovereign ofthe realm, and whilst others pressed round Amalric, declaring that theywould fight to the death for the cause of liberty,
he stood in the sameplace, behind Linda's chair, and did not join his voice in promise orprotest.
Perhaps Amalric guessed at the struggle going on within him, for he didnot seek to draw him into the discussion so eagerly conducted. It wasLinda who, presently raising her eyes to her lover's face, askedsoftly,--
"And thou, beloved, what wilt thou do?"
"I know not," he answered, in a very low voice. "The choice is indeed agrievous one. I would follow Amalric to the world's end in a cause whichI knew to be righteous; but when it comes to raising the standard andtaking up arms against the anointed King, I scarce know how I can do it.Would that the choice had not to be made!"
There were not, however, many in the city who seemed troubled withHugh's scruples. Almost to a man they were eager for the outbreak ofwar; and most warlike preparations were set afoot by the clerks andscholars, as though these latter expected to take the field and fightunder the banner of De Montfort as soon as ever the collision occurred.
Beaumont meadows were alive from sunrise to sunset with a motley companyfrom the city, the most part of them being members of the University,who spent their time exercising themselves in feats of warlike prowesson foot or on horseback--shooting at targets with bow or catapult,tilting one at the other with the lance, or practising sword-play withsuch good-will that wounds and bruises were sometimes the result ofthese encounters. Still, since these were given and taken in good partand for the sake of the cause, no umbrage or ill-will was arousedthereby. The Chancellor himself encouraged these warlike sports, and itwas known that he would put no hindrance in the way of students whowished to join the mustering ranks of the Barons' army.
The Chancellor was a warm supporter of De Montfort's cause, and he gaveevery facility to the clerks for training themselves in the arts of war.
The friars, as has been explained before, were equally in favour of thecause of the people; and Leofric, who after hearing Hugh's scruples hadconsulted Father Angelus, was quite satisfied by the answers hereceived, and ready to throw himself heart and soul into the cause ofthe Barons. The friar admitted that neither party had all the right onits side. Good and evil mingled in both, and personal ambition would befound on both sides, marring the perfection of fruition. But the friarsheld that a King might lawfully be withheld by his subjects frombecoming the slave of evil practices, and that it was better he shouldbe ruled by his own nobles, who had the good of the country at heart,than by foreign hirelings, who cared for nothing but to fill their ownpockets, and sell the land to the emissaries of papal tyranny.
Then in the midst of all this seething excitement, when it seemed asthough a spark falling might set the city in a blaze, the news wasbrought that Prince Edward would march through, on his way to the WelshMarches.
Consternation reigned in the breasts of the authorities when this newswas made known. They saw in it a source of real peril to the city. Atpresent public opinion was so entirely in favour of De Montfort, that,in spite of all the excitement and tumult within the walls, the studentswere in excellent temper with one another, even North and Southforgetting their differences for the moment. But if the Prince shouldappear--the Prince whose personal influence always made itself felt, andwho was probably coming this way with a view to enlist the sympathies ofsome amongst the clerks and scholars on his fathers side--it was almostcertain that his appearance would result in a demonstration in hisfavour by a certain number of students, who would then come into instantcollision with the bulk of their fellows, and a hideous andindiscriminate battle would be the inevitable result.
"Read but the records aright, and you'll see, When the students in Oxford do once disagree, 'Twill be but of months, at the most two or three, Ere the conflict in England rage furiously."
This was the common saying of the time, and although not always perhapsborne out by facts, since Oxford was often in a ferment, it wascertainly thought advisable to check the possibility of a miniaturecivil war within the walls of the city; and both Constable andChancellor sent messengers to the Prince, to request him not to attemptto enter the city walls.
Prince Edward was always reasonable and courteous. He received themessengers with great good temper, and refrained from carrying out hispurpose. He could not, however, change his line of march, and he passedclose to Oxford on his way, lodging himself for a few nights outsidethe walls, in the palace of Beaumont, though keeping his army at somegreater distance from the city.
The authorities, of course, could not expect more in reply to theirrequest; but they were still uneasy at the thought of the presence of anarmy so near to their town, although the students appeared to be unawareof or indifferent to its proximity. To make assurance doubly sure, thecity gates were all locked, and the fiat went forth that none shouldenter or leave the city without special permission from the authorities.
Some amusement and some indignation were felt by the students at thisinfringement of their liberties. However, for three days they submittedwith tolerable grace to the restriction imposed. On the fourth dayPrince Edward and his forces resumed their march, and the students sawno reason why they should not resume their pleasures. Beaumont meadows,being beyond the walls, had been closed to them for this period, and nowa great band sallied forth to resume interrupted amusements there.
But when they reached Smith Gate, by which they expected to make theirexit from the city, they found it still locked and barred, and thewatchman told them that he had had orders to keep it shut all day andonly open it on the morrow.
"Shame! shame! shame!" cried the crowd, surging round it like a swarm ofangry bees, those from behind pushing upon those in front, and addingtheir voices to the clamour.
It was perhaps rather unwise of the authorities to have been so slow inrestoring the liberty of the turbulent clerks. They had behaved betterthan had been looked for during the time of detention, and it would havebeen more politic had this detention been ended at the first possiblemoment. But perhaps they reckoned too much on the temperate spiritshowed so far, and thought it more prudent not to be in haste.
Leofric and Jack, coming homewards after morning lecture, were stoppedin their approach to their lodging by the presence of this surgingcrowd, who were all armed, ready for their military pastimes, and whoseemed now actuated by an exceedingly warlike spirit.
Jack quickly learned the cause of the commotion, and Leofric exclaimedeagerly,--
"I will to the Chancellor, and get leave from him for the gate to beopened; but I pray you, brother students, make not a disturbance in thecity. Wait only one short half-hour, and I will be back with an answer."
Some heard the appeal, and gave a half-hearted assent; but thosestruggling round the gate neither heard nor heeded.
"Run upon thine errand, good Leofric!" cried Jack, "for they will nothave long patience. I will seek to stay them from violence, but methinksthey look like storming the city walls!"
Leofric sped away, and Jack remained--sturdy Jack, who must ever be inthe heart of the fray. Soon he was more in its heart than he altogetherdesired; for more and more clerks came flocking up, the birds of theair seemingly having carried the news that mischief was afloat.
"Shall we be pent up in the city, like rats in a trap?"
"Shall we be treated like children, and not suffered abroad save at thepleasure of nurses?"
"Who dares to hem us in like this? Let us show them what free men cando! Let us teach them a lesson! Shall we submit to tyranny, when all theland is astir against it? Never, never, never! Oxford scholars nevershall be slaves!"
It needed but words like these to set the whole crowd in a fury. Many ofthe number had axes in their hands, and all were armed. Flingingthemselves upon the gate, they hewed it down with fierce strokes,scoffing at the resistance and remonstrances of the sentries. Thewoodwork could not long withstand their determined blows. The gatecrashed outwards; a fierce yell of triumph arose from the crowd. Thevictors poured out into the fields beyond, carrying with them thesplintered fragments of the strong wooden
door.
The spirit of devilry had now got into them. They insisted that theremains must be interred with due formality. They chanted over theirburden the office for the dead, and digging a huge trench in Beaumontmeadows, they performed mock obsequies in a very irreverent fashion.
But hardly had this been accomplished before the cry was raised,--
"The Provosts! the Provosts! and the worshipful Mayor himself!"
It was true. The city authorities had heard of this outbreak, and theProvosts, or Bailiffs, had gathered together a body of bold citizens,and were marching out to quell the disturbance and punish the rioters.Indeed, it was said that they had already made some arrests amongst theclerks, and this news ran like wildfire through the crowd.
In another moment the bell of St. Martin's rang out in the city, andmore clerks came flying out to learn what had happened, and where helpwas needed. Thus the luckless Mayor and Provosts were hemmed in betweentwo furious bodies of clerks, who inflicted grievous wounds upon many ofthem, tore their banner, and put them to speedy and ignominious flight.
Now the blood of the students was up. They had gone too far to stopwithout doing worse.
"We will teach the town varlets to interfere with our liberties!" roaredthe excited and incensed youths, as they rushed back once more into thecity, filled with the desire for mischief and destruction which ischaracteristic of a mob.
"Teach the Bailiffs to mind their manners!" roared the excited students,and dashed upon the houses of their foes. A bowyer's shop was plundered,the house of one Bailiff was set on fire, those of the others wereplundered after being broken open, and a store of spicery was scatteredin all directions.
"Now for the Mayor! now for the Mayor!" shouted the hot and pantingdepredators, flushed with victory and carrying all before them.
The Mayor was a vintner by trade, and had a fine cellar stocked withgoodly wine. This cellar was on the street level, but was stronglybarricaded. Nothing, however, could withstand the fury of the attackmade upon it. The mob of unruly clerks rushed in, drew all the taps,drank their fill of intoxicating beverages, and let the rest flow outinto the street.
When the Chancellor and the Proctors, who had in the first instanceproceeded towards Beaumont meadows through the Bocardo Gate, returned tothe city to seek to quell the unseemly riot, it was to find one house inflames in the south part of the city, whilst the drunken mob wasclamouring around the vintners store, singing wild bacchanalian songs,and disporting themselves like veritable demons. The street ran red withgood wine, and the Mayor, white-faced and terrified, watched helplesslyfrom an upper window the destruction of his property and the wantonwaste of his stock in trade.
The appearance of the Chancellor, however, produced an immediate andextraordinary effect. Clerks upon the outskirts of the crowd took totheir heels, flying hither and thither in all directions, uttering criesof warning to their fellows. Of these, some were too drunk and some toowildly possessed with the spirit of devilry to move even for thiswarning; but most of the men fled as for dear life, the authoritiestaking note of as many as possible, who felt, as they scudded away underthose cold, clear eyes, that they would have to answer for this day'sproceedings, probably in a fashion they little liked.
The Chancellor strode up to the nucleus of ringleaders, who alone stoodtheir ground.
"The King shall hear of this!" he said, in calm, cold accents. "It is acase for his Majesty to decide. Go back to your Halls and lodgings,every one of you. You are a disgrace to the city and to the kingdom!"
The abashed clerks obeyed that voice, and retired to their variousdomiciles; but before three days had passed, Oxford had lost hundreds ofher scholars and a considerable number of masters also. An exodus likethis not unfrequently followed upon an outbreak of ill-will betwixt"town and gown."
Afraid of what the King's verdict might be, and perhaps with a view togreater liberty upon the outbreak of war, scholars and masters alikevacated their quarters, and made their way to Northampton, wherefugitives both from Oxford and Cambridge often assembled, and wherethere was talk of establishing a third University.
And so ended the "great riot of 1264."