The English Church was indeed at his mercy. Boniface of Canterbury lived abroad, and was completely in the Papal interest, the Archbishopric of York was vacant, the Bishops of Winchester and Hereford were creatures of the King. Henry himself was acting in complete harmony with the Pope, who had several times granted him a tenth from the clergy, and had given him the incomes of all vacant benefices, and of intestates. The Church was driven into close union with the rapidly rising baronial opposition, and was obliged to regard its temporalities as ordinary baronies. Scotland and Wales were again becoming troublesome, and the lukewarmness of the English Barons prevented successful resistance to their inroads. To add to the difficulties of England, 1257 was a year of fearful want. The weather was so bad that the harvest stood rotting in the fields even in November. Wheat rose from two shillings to fifteen or twenty the quarter. The harvest of 1258 promised to be as bad. Thousands were dying of hunger.[36] And when, in the midst of this misery, the Pope’s Legate (who in 1257 had stated the amount of debt to the Pope to be 136,000 marks, and had succeeded in wringing 52,000 marks from the clergy) repeated his demand the following year, and threatened an interdict unless the debt was at once paid, Englishmen of all classes felt that the time for action had arrived, and, taking advantage of the absence of the Earl of Cornwall, who was abroad attempting to make good his election to the German Empire, the Barons assembled at a Parliament held at Westminster determined upon reform.

It was a stormy scene. William de Valence and Simon de Montfort almost came to blows. William spoke of Montfort as “an old traitor, and the son of a traitor.” “No, no,” said Simon, “I am no traitor, nor traitor’s son; my father was very different from yours,” referring to the constant treasons of the old Count de la Marche. He then poured out his grievances, the squandering of the royal property on favourites, the folly, in the face of such financial difficulties, of accepting the Sicilian throne, and the admission of Papal legates to rob the clergy. At length a sort of compromise was arrived at, and aid was promised if the Pope would lower his demands, and the King on his side promised reform, a promise to which several of his chief favourites had to put their signatures. The King also pledged himself to give full consideration to the Barons’ demands at a Parliament to be assembled at Oxford at Whitsuntide, and to leave the question at issue to be decided by a commission of twelve from either side, whose verdict should be final.

On June 11th, this Parliament met. It is known by the name of “The Mad Parliament.” The Barons, of whom there were about a hundred,[37] appeared in arms, under the pretext of the war with Wales, in reality to overawe the King’s violent step-brothers. At that Parliament the promised commission of twenty-four was chosen. The King’s Commissioners, with the single exception of John of Plesseys, Earl of Warwick, were men pledged to the old evil courses, either by their relationship with the King or by the favours they had obtained from him. At the head of the Barons appeared Richard de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, the natural head of the English party, and De Montfort, himself indeed a foreigner, but of such high ability and character that he was indispensable to his party. To these twenty-four was intrusted the duty of securing reform. They were not like the twenty-five guardians of the Charter, pledges for the carrying out of the treaty, but a committee representing for the time the executive authority of the Crown. These Barons chose a council of four, John Mansell, the King’s secretary, the Earl of Warwick, and two Bigods (the Earl of Norfolk and his brother). These in their turn were to nominate a council of state or executive ministry of fifteen. The predominance of the baronial party is shown by the fact that of those fifteen two-thirds were on the Barons’ side.[38] This Council of fifteen produced the Provisions of Oxford, and appointed new officers. Hugh Bigod was chief justice, John of Peterborough, treasurer, Nicholas of Ely, chancellor. The royal castles were ordered to be placed in the hands of Englishmen; and three times a year a Parliament was to be held, consisting of the fifteen, and twelve members of the old twenty-four representative Barons. These are said to be representatives of the commonalty of England, but it does not as yet appear that the commonalty meant anything but the baronage. These Provisions were accepted and sworn to by the King, Prince Edward, and the Barons, and subsequently, on his return to England, by Richard, King of the Romans.

The article which demanded the surrender of castles by foreigners met with much opposition.[39] The King’s step-brothers refused to surrender theirs. Simon de Montfort, as a foreigner, on the other hand, showed a good example by surrendering two of those he had in charge.[40] When William de Valence refused this order, “I will have the castles,” said De Montfort, “or your head.” The threat was too serious to be disregarded; the foreigners crept off in the night, and went to Winchester, where they hoped that Aymer de Valence would afford them protection. The Barons at once pursued them. They were obliged to yield, and were exiled. The Barons then proceeded to check the bad government of the sheriffs. Four knights from each shire (a step towards the coming admission of the lower gentry to Parliament) were appointed to inquire into the question; and it was arranged that the sheriffs should be elected yearly. The Londoners readily accepted the new order of things; and finally, in October, the Provisions were solemnly proclaimed, together with the Magna Charta, in Latin, French and English. In this the King declared his full adhesion to the Oxford Ordinances. It was countersigned by thirteen of the fifteen counsellors. This is the first public document issued in the English language, and may be regarded as a sign of the real question at issue during the reign: Was England to be, in fact, England, and the English to be a nation?

The fifteen counsellors were intrusted with the duty of producing other reforms before the following Christmas. This they neglected to do, and it was only in October 1259 that they produced another series of Provisions. These by no means answered the expectations of the Barons, and were so moderate that, after the cessation of the war, they were incorporated in the Statute of Marlborough, 1267. They were chiefly directed to prevent encroachments on feudal rights. Prince Edward had earnestly pressed for the production of these Provisions. He was at this time a strong reformer, and it was perhaps on account of the inefficient character of the reforms now produced, that a quarrel arose between Leicester and Gloucester, in which, we are told, that Leicester was supported by Edward, Gloucester by the King. The government was meanwhile practically in the hands of the fifteen. They felt that their chief work was in England, and therefore freed themselves as much as possible from foreign complications. They made peace with Wales, entirely renounced all claims upon Sicily, and made a definitive treaty with France. By this treaty Bordeaux, Bayonne and Gascony, with the addition of the Bishoprics of Limoges, Cahors and Périgord, which the honesty of the French King restored, were to be held by England as fiefs of France; all claim on Normandy, Anjou, Touraine and Poitou was to be given up; and the King of France promised to give a sum of money for the maintenance of five hundred knights for two years, to be used only for the good of England or the Church. This last article proved afterwards a source of danger to the baronial cause.

Their whole government seems to have given satisfaction; but it was not likely that Henry should calmly submit to their domination. With the peculiar faculty of making his religion compatible with bad government and dishonesty, which was the characteristic of this King, he applied, almost immediately after the Parliament of Oxford, to the Pope for an absolution from his promises. A visit twice repeated to the King of France gave rise to the suspicion that he was concerting measures with that monarch; and, in 1261, he was certainly fortifying the Tower. In April of that year an answer of Alexander IV., entirely absolving him from his vows, reached him. He ordered it to be publicly read, proceeded to give some castles into the hands of foreigners, and proclaimed that he would no longer consent to the restraint imposed upon him. The Barons met at Kingston; and, unwilling to proceed to extremities, agreed to refer their differences to the King of France, whose character for honour stood high, though in this instance rumours were afloat that he was already pledged to the King’s interest.[41] The King would probably not have ventured on this course had not a quarrel arisen in the baronial party, which deprived them of their ablest leader. It is not certain what the cause of quarrel was, but as early as 1259, De Clare and Montfort had exchanged hot words, and from that time De Montfort had been very much abroad, and the leadership of the baronial party entirely in the hands of De Clare. In 1262, a second absolution reached the King, and was by his orders publicly promulgated by Mansell, by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and by the Bishop of Norwich.

But meanwhile a stronger leader than Richard Earl of Gloucester had appeared in England, and the King’s attempts at recovering his authority were peremptorily checked. The Earl of Leicester, hearing of the death of Gloucester, had returned from abroad, and found himself the unquestioned chief of the party. With himself he associated the late Earl’s son, young Gilbert de Clare, and matters soon seemed to be coming to extremities. Llewellyn of Wales, apparently in the baronial interest, attacked the lands of Roger de Mortimer and of that foreign Bishop of Hereford who had been the King’s agent at Rome. A general persecution of all those who could not speak English followed in the border counties. The Bishop of Hereford’s treasures were seized, and he himself had to fly abroad. At the same time the Bishop of Norwich, who was disliked for having published the absolution, was attacked. John Mansell was driven into France; while, on the other hand, Prince Edward, who had hitherto remained true to the Statutes of Oxford, was reconciled to his father, and appeared in arms against the barons. The people of London joined in the general disturbance. The Queen had to leave London and retire to Windsor. On her way thither, as she was passing up the river, she was assaulted and maltreated by the Londoners, an event which Prince Edward is said not to have forgotten.

While the parties were thus already beginning to appeal to arms, in January 1264, the King of France published his verdict at Amiens. It was entirely in favour of the Crown, and annulled the Provisions of Oxford, especially declaring that the King had right to employ aliens as the governors of his castles. The verdict was clear enough, and Henry believed that it put him entirely in the right. On the other hand a clause was added of which the Barons took hold to support their cause. By this it was asserted that the verdict was not intended to derogate in anything from the royal privileges, charters, liberties and laudable customs of the kingdom. With this loophole for variety of opinion, the award left the main question unsettled, although it enabled a certain number of those who were pledged to the Provisions, but disliked the Barons’ rule, to join the King. Among others, his brother Richard, the King of the Romans, took advantage of this opportunity. Still unwilling to press their claims to the uttermost, the Barons offered to accept the award, excepting only the one clause, which was in fact the point for which they were fighting, that, namely, which permitted the employment of aliens. The Londoners would not even go so far as this.

The King refused their offer, and war became inevitable. It began by the capture of Northampton by Prince Edward, and gradually drifted southward, till the two armies met at Lewes. The King occupied the town, with the castle and priory; the Barons, the down to the west. The battle ended in a decisive victory for the Barons. Prince Edward, carried away by his anger against the Londoners, whom he despised and hated, was induced to pursue an advantage he had won over them too far. Richard, the King of the Romans, was misled into an attack upon a cage-shaped litter, which he believed to contain De Montfort, who had been wounded by a fall from his horse. De Montfort had purposely left it in his rear, together with his standards and baggage; it really contained only four refractory Londoners of the King’s party. These two errors on the part of the enemy secured the victory to De Montfort; and when Prince Edward returned from his pursuit, he found the battle lost, and the struggle only prolonged by the fighting round the castle at Lewes. De Montfort, evidently the victor, offered to put an end to the bloodshed by an immediate truce; and an agreement known as the Mise of Lewes was made, by which the questions at issue were to be settled by a court of arbitration consisting of two Frenchmen and one Englishman. The two Princes, Edward and Henry d’Almeyne, were to remain in captivity meanwhile, in exchange for their fathers, the King and his brother Richard, who had been taken prisoners; and the prisoners on both sides were to be released.

De Montfort was for the time completely master of the country. He at once proceeded to act with vigour to bring the country into order. The King’s peace was proclaimed everywhere. The prisoners were exchanged, and till the open question with regard to the election of sheriffs should be settled, guardians of the peace were appointed for each county. In the offices thus created, as well as in those of the King’s Council, the friends and followers of Simon were put. A Parliament was then called, which assembled in June, at which it is probable that knights of the shire were present. At this Parliament a committee of three was appointed, who nominated nine others, in whose hands the government was to be placed. If the nine could not come to agreement, the final decision remained with the three, who were the Bishop of Chichester, Simon de Montfort, and Gilbert de Clare. At the same time the affairs of the Church were put in order, its grievances being left to the settlement of three bishops appointed by statute.

De Montfort thus seemed in a fair way to make his position durable; but unfortunately three important men had made their escape from Lewes:—these were the Earl of Warrenne, Hugh Bigod and William de Valence. These three fugitives betook themselves to Damme, in Flanders, where the Queen, in company with the exiled foreigners, Archbishop Boniface, Bishop of Hereford, Peter of Savoy, and John Mansell, had assembled an army of hired troops. Great preparations were made to meet the expected invasion, but the winds were so contrary that the ill-provided army, weary of waiting, separated. The closeness of the danger, however, induced Simon to send ambassadors to France, to urge on the completion of the settlement according to the Mise of Lewes. The embassy was at the same time to try and make terms with the Papal Legate, who had been quickly despatched to uphold the cause of so good a vassal of Rome as Henry. They were unsuccessful in both their objects. The Queen had been beforehand with Louis, and the Legate, who shortly afterwards ascended the Papal throne as Clement IV., replied only by excommunication. The Bull, however, was taken by the mariners of the Cinque Ports before reaching England, and thrown into the sea; and the excommunication did not take effect.

Meanwhile, the royalist barons on the Marches of Wales, especially Mortimer, Clifford and Leybourne, began to bestir themselves. Some of them even pushed as far as Wallingford, where Prince Edward was a prisoner, and attempted, though in vain, to liberate him. The liberation of this Prince was now the chief object of the royalists, and the pressure put upon Leicester was so great, that he had, though unwillingly, to consent to measures which should bring it about. There was indeed every reason to desire that he should be freed. The part he had played in the late disputes had been highly honourable; he had remained true to the Provisions of Oxford, till the breaking out of the war seemed to render it his imperative duty to assist his father; and from his subsequent conduct it is plain that, although he must have disliked the present restrictions upon the royal power, there was much in the national policy of the Barons with which he sympathized. All those who resented the assumption of power by Montfort, while desiring a reform in government, would have found in him a welcome leader.

It was principally for this object that the famous Parliament of 1265 was called. To it were summoned only twenty-three peers, friends of De Montfort, though the great Northern and Scotch barons, who had strongly supported the King at Lewes, also received safe conducts. Of the higher clergy there were no less than one hundred and eighteen, a number by no means unprecedented, but which seems to show how completely the Church sympathized with the Barons. There were also knights of the shires—two from each county. Even from the time of the commission for forming the Domesday Book, elected knights had been occasionally consulted upon the affairs of their county; since Henry II.’s reign, although they had never been properly summoned to Parliament, this practice had been more frequent. But the addition of two burghers from the chief cities was wholly new, and although the practice was not continued without a break, this, says Hallam, is the epoch at which the representation of the Commons becomes distinctly manifest. To De Montfort it was of the greatest importance that the general acquiescence of all important classes of the country in his government should be shown.

The assembly thus formed had first of all to consider what was to be done with the present insurgents and with the exiles, and, secondly, on what conditions Prince Edward might be with safety liberated. On the first point it was decreed that the barons of the Welsh Marches should be exiled to Ireland for three years, and the fugitives from Lewes were summoned to stand their trial before their peers, a summons to which, of course, they paid no attention. The other question was more important, but the conditions were finally arrived at on which the Prince might be set at liberty. There was to be complete amnesty for all that was past; the King and Prince were never to receive their former favourites; the royal castles were to be placed in trustworthy hands; the great charters of liberty were to be again established; the Prince was not to leave the country for three years, and must choose his council by the advice of government; and the county of Chester, with its castle, together with the castles of the Peak and Newcastle, were to be given up to De Montfort. For this, however, an equivalent was to be given from De Montfort’s county of Leicester. All these arrangements were made under the most solemn sanctions. On the last article much of the abuse of Leicester for avarice and self-seeking has been rested. But, in fact, the position of the lands commanding the Scotch and Welsh borders afforded a sufficient political reason for requiring their cession. A copy of this arrangement was sent to each sheriff, and the great charters of liberty publicly read, with a solemn threat of excommunication against all who should break them.

These arrangements tended to the establishment of a peaceful government and to the healing of faction; but unfortunately there was constant jealousy of De Montfort among his colleagues, arising probably in part from his foreign birth and royal connections, in part from the truly popular nature of his views, with which the Barons had but little sympathy. Again, as on a previous occasion, De Clare, the leader of the English Barons, deserted him, and began to intrigue with his enemies. At the same time, William de Valence landed in his lordship of Pembroke. By the instrumentality of Mortimer, Edward made his escape from Ludlow Castle; and the invaders, the Prince, the Lord Marchers, and Gloucester opened communications one with the other. The trick by which Edward effected his escape is well known. On pretence of racing, he wearied the horses of his guardians, and then galloped from them on a particularly swift horse that had just been sent him, which he had kept fresh. The danger had become so pressing that Leicester advanced against the invaders in the South of Wales: but while in that distant corner of the country, the Prince, with the men of Chester, who willingly joined their old governor, marched down the Severn and took Gloucester, thus cutting Leicester off from the rest of his supporters.

De Montfort at once recognized that Edward was his chief enemy, and turned back to meet him, at the same time summoning to his aid his son the younger Simon, who was with an army at Dover. Had he executed this duty intrusted to him satisfactorily, Edward would either have been enclosed between the two armies, or De Montfort largely reinforced. As it was, he wasted some time at Kenilworth, his father’s chief stronghold, and foolishly suffered his troops to encamp outside the walls of the castle. A female spy brought Edward news of his enemy’s mistake, and a sudden onslaught scattered De Montfort’s reinforcement in disgraceful flight. Edward tried to check De Montfort’s return by breaking down all the bridges over the Severn, but a way was at length found to cross the river about four miles below Worcester, and the baronial army reached Evesham in the full expectation of speedily meeting their friends.

As they marched out in the early morning on the 4th of August, they saw a well-ordered army approaching, and Leicester’s barber, who happened to be the longest-sighted man amongst then, at first recognized all the standards as belonging to young De Montfort; only after he had ascended a church-tower did he perceive the emblems of De Clare and Edward mingled with them. De Montfort was thus greatly outnumbered and surprised. As the enemy approached in three well-arrayed divisions, “Ah,” said he, “that arrangement is not your own, I have taught you how to fight.” Then, as it became evident that he had neither time nor men to secure the victory, he added, “God have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are the Prince’s.” The stories of the fidelity of his party are touching. He begged his partisans to fly while there was time. They refused to leave him, while his son Henry begged him to make good his retreat, and leave him alone to fight the battle. He was not a man to listen to such advice. At length the assault came. He saw the best of his followers and his son killed or disabled around him. But still, though his horse was killed under him, “like a giant,” says one, “like an impregnable tower for the liberties of England,” says another of the Chroniclers, he fought on, wielding his sword with both hands, till he fell overpowered by the assault of numbers. Three hours completed the battle, which was little else than a massacre. “Thus lamentably fell the flower of all knighthood, leaving an example of steadfastness to others. But since there is no curse more baleful than a domestic enemy, who can wonder at his fall? those who had eaten his bread lifted their heels against him, they who loved him by word of mouth lied in their throat.”[42]

The victory produced a complete reaction in England. Castle after castle opened its gates to the royalists. At Kenilworth alone, which Simon had defended with extraordinary machines which his skill as an engineer had invented, and in the inaccessible marshes in the East of England, the baronial party still held out. The conqueror proceeded at once to act with reckless severity. The whole of Leicester’s property was confiscated and given to Prince Edward, all his followers were deprived of civil rights and property, and all acts of the government since the battle of Lewes were declared null. This was the work of a Parliament summoned at Winchester, where of course there is no sign either of county or of borough representation. After London, which made some opposition, was conquered, and for the time disfranchised, all efforts were directed against Kenilworth. This stronghold had become a centre from which, as from the Eastern Fens, disorderly bodies pushed out to wreak their vengeance on the King’s followers. The defence was heroic. It seemed plain that the reaction had been carried much too far. One party at all events of the royalists, with Prince Henry d’Almeyne and perhaps Prince Edward at its head, desired a more conciliatory policy, and at length, at the end of the year, a Commission of twelve was established to attempt to produce peace. Under their management, a Parliament and Convocation was held, the Magna Charta again acknowledged, even by the Papal Legate, and those who had been disinherited were allowed to regain their lands by paying a certain number of years’ income to the new possessors. The sons of Lord Derby and Leicester were alone excepted. In accordance with this arrangement, called the Dictum of Kenilworth, the castle was surrendered.

The insurgents in the Fens afterwards submitted on the same terms, but not before Gilbert de Clare had again changed sides, making it plain to the government that however much jealousy of De Montfort might have broken the baronial moderate party, the feelings which had dictated the Provisions of Oxford were still unconquered. Under these circumstances it was found necessary to take further measures to insure moderation of government. In May 1267, Magna Charta was again enacted, and from this time forward kept. The offices were given into the hands of Englishmen, and Englishmen only. The Sicilian project had become impossible, indeed the crown had been given to Charles of Anjou; and, finally, Prince Edward, whose influence might have been dangerous, had withdrawn from England on a crusade, and taken many English nobles with him. The Barons’ war had thus, although in its outward form a failure, secured its main object—tolerable constitutional government, and the establishment of a national rule. In 1272 the King died.

It is always difficult to know how far the popular feeling is engaged in political revolutions. The great bulk of the nation is never the originator of such changes. The fate of a country is settled by the conduct and thought of its educated men, though the mass of the people plays a very prominent part as an instrument in the hands of its leaders. There is much to make us believe, however, that the movement of the Barons was in reality a national one. More particularly is this true in the case of Simon de Montfort. He is constantly spoken of by contemporary writers with admiration. “Il eime dreit, et att le tort,” (He loves right and hates the wrong), says one poet. “It should, however, be declared,” says the Chronicler of Melrose, “that no one in his senses would call Simon a traitor, for he was no traitor, but the most devout and faithful worshipper of the Church in England, the shield and defender of the kingdom, the enemy and expeller of aliens, although by birth he was one of them.” The Londoners were his devoted adherents, while the character of the Parliament which he summoned after the battle of Lewes was certainly popular. It seems fair to believe that he was the unselfish supporter of the national policy.

Again, all the writers of the time, with very few exceptions,[43] whether chroniclers or poets, were in favour of the baronial party. When some of the leaders seem flagging in their energy, they were cheered by such words as these,—

Again, in one political poem of the day we have the question at issue argued out in a manner which shows the advance of political knowledge, and in a constitutional tone which would become a modern Whig. “All restraint does not deprive of liberty. He who is kept from falling so that he lives free from danger, reaps advantage from such keeping, nor is such a support slavery, but the safeguard of virtue. Therefore that it is permitted to a king all that is good, but that he dare not do evil—this is God’s gift.... If a prince love his subjects, he will be repaid with love; if he reign justly, he will be honoured; if he err, he ought to be recalled by them whom his unjust denial may have grieved, unless he be willing to be corrected; if he is willing to make amends, he ought to be raised up and aided by those same persons.... If a king be less wise than he ought to be, what advantage will the kingdom gain by his reign? Is he to seek by his own opinion on whom he should depend to have his failing supplied? If he alone choose, he will be easily deceived. Therefore let the community of the kingdom advise, and let it be known what the generality thinks, to whom their own laws are best known. Since it is their own affairs that are at stake, they will take more care and will act with an eye to their own peace.... We give the first place to the community; we say also that the law rules over the king’s dignity, for the law is the light without which he who rules will wander from the right path.”

That proclamations should be published in English is also a significant fact, and it may on the whole be considered that this war was practically the conclusion of foreign domination in England. It is the great honour of Edward I. to have perceived this so clearly, that he willingly accepted the new national line of policy which the Barons had marked out, and he may be regarded as our first purely national monarch.