University of Virginia Library

“Edward, who followed King Henry in wearing the English erown, but far outwent him in all regal vertues, was abroad at the time of his Father's death, still pursuing his high desires, for the Holy Warres. King Lewis of France, whose perswations had inflamed this noble-spirited Prince to associate him in this glorious quarrell, having first set forth with the enterprise, lay now, in siege of Tunis in Africa, where Prince Edward, with all his forces arriving; the French King (greatly rejoicing in his wished presence) together with the King of Navarre, and other Princes of his Army, went forth to meet him. This place which they beleaguered was not great, but by reason of the situation it greatly impeaded the Christians in their passage through those seas; being built of the scattered ribs and wasted ruines of the mighty and famous City of Carthage. After sharp reinforcement of the seige (where Edward gave frequent proofe of his valour and prudence) capitulations were granted to the Saracens, contrary to Edward's mind, being wholly set to subdue, convert or root them out. This enterprise was supported also, by Charles, King of Sicily.

The Seige was thus raised, to the grief and indignation of Edward, who would not partake nor share in any of the Treasures which by reason of the truce was payed by the Saracens, as accounting it to be wickedly gotten, and contrary to the tenor of the vow, which for the honour and advancement of Christian Religion had beene made.” In consequence of this dissention between the King of France and Prince Edward, the French King renounced his intention of proceeding with Edward to Palestine, and immediately returned toward Europe, with all the wealth obtained from the Saracens, in which voyage however, nearly the whole French Army perished in a storm, “together with the impious Treasure brought from Tunis.” But Prince Edward nothing daunted, swore, “that although all his Companions in arms and Countrymen should abandon him, yet he, and Fowin, his Lackey, would enter into Acres, and keep the vow which he had made while soul and body held together.” The English promised with one heart to accompany their Prince, when setting sail, they arrived at Acres, “about four daies before the City should have beene yeelded up to the Sultan of Babylon, head of the Saracens, but from which precipitation these succours out of England withheld it.” —Speed.

“When the Christians understood of this cursed assault upon the person of so renowned a Prince, they meant forthwith to have invaded the Pagans wheresoever; but the Prince whose first care was for the safety of Christians, said “I forbid you on the behalf of God, that none of you yet presume to infest the Pagan Armie, because many of our People are gone to visite the holy Sepulchre, who shall every one of them be murthered by the Saracens, if they shall now sustaine any (though but small) vexation at our hands.”—Speed.

“The Arch Bishop of Canterbury, after he had visited his whole province, considering the great warres, betweene the King and Leoline, he travelled for the appeasing thereof, first to the King, and then to the Prince being at Snowdon.”—Stow.

After Prince Edward had escaped from Simon De Montford, Earl of Leicester, the Earl issued the most peremptory orders to all the King's subjects (Henry III. being still in his hands) to oppose to the utmost of their power, Prince Edward, the Earl of Gloucester, and their adherents. who were all stiled Traitors to the King and State. “But notwithstanding this, many barons, officers and soldiers, came and offered their service to the Prince, who, in a short time, saw himself at the head of an army, superior to that of the confederates. Then it was that affairs began to have a new face. The Earl of Leicester, who, a little time before, had all the forces of the kingdom at his disposal, could not prevent Edward from becoming master of Gloucester and several other places. He was even forced to give ground to that young Prince, who followed him from place to place, and to use all his policy and experience in order to avoid a battle. As he was a very good General, he took timely care to post himself so as to be able to retreat, whenever he should be pressed. Mean while, he sent repeated orders to his Son Simon, to quit the siege of Pevensey, which detained him in Kent, and come and reinforce him. Simon obeyed, and with his little army began to march with extraordinary expedition, to join him. But as he drew near Evesham, where his Father was encamped, Edward having notice of his coming, suddenly fell upon him with all his forces, and cut in pieces this little body, which could not resist him.

“This victory animating the young Prince with fresh ardour, he immediately returned to attack the Father, before he had received the news of his Son's defeat. He so deceived the watchfulness of the old General, by this sudden resolution, that he was very near the enemy, when the Earl imagined it was his Son coming to his assistance. Leicester's surprize was so great that he could not help shewing it. However, he put every thing in a good posture of defence, perceiving that a retreat would be still more dangerous than a battle. The fight began about two in the afternoon, and lasted till night. He sustained, by his courage and conduct, the efforts of Edward, who fought with an astonishing valour, well knowing that the good or ill fortune of his life depended on the success of that day. At length, after a long resistance on the side of the Barons, the Earl of Leicester and his Son Henry being slain on the spot, their troops were disheartened, and the Prince obtained a full and complete victory. His joy at this success was the greater, as, during the heat of the battle, he had the satisfaction to deliver the King his Father, from the captivity he had been in ever since the battle of Lewes.” —Rapin.

“When Leolin came to have the government of Wales, he sent unto Philip King of France requiring of him that he might have in marriage the Ladie Eleanor, Daughter to Simon Montford, Earl of Leicester. The French King granted his request and sent her under the conduct of her brother Amoury, to be conveyed into Wales to Leolin; but ere they approached to Wales, at the Isles of Sillie, both the Brother and Sister were taken prisoners by some Ships of Brystow.”—Holinshed.

The Saxons being alarmed at the success of Vortimer, King of the Britons, applied to the Picts and Scots to join in an alliance to attack him; to this proposal they readily acceded, but Vortimer before the arrival of his northern foes, engaged in battle the Saxons of Kent, under Hengist and Horsa, and completely defeated them. In this battle Horsa, and Cartigern the brother of Vortimer, fell by each other's swords. Hengist having been thus defeated by land retired to his ships, but with heroic valour Vortimer equipped an equal force, and in a severe engagement again defeated him, and ultimately ebliged him to retire into Germany.

“In Radnor is a Great Waterfall, near which is a Castle, whilst round it is a vast desert with dreary irregular paths, and frightful mountains, to which, as to his safest retreat, Vortigern that bane of his country, whose memory is held in abhorrence by the Britons, retired to reflect on the enormity of his crime in calling over the Saxons.” Camden.

Arthur's contest with Colgrin and Pandulf, is thus described by Joffery of Monmouth. “Before the battle with the Saxons, Arthur put on a coat of mail suitable to the grandeur of so potent a King; he fits his golden helmet on his head, on which was engraven the figure of a Dragon, on his shoulders his shield called Priwen; then girding on his Sword Caliburn, he graced his right hand with his Sword named Rose, which was hard, broad, and fit for slaughter. This done he rushed on to the fight, nor did he give over his fury before he had with his Caliburn alone killed four hundred and seventy men. The Britons, seeing this, follow their Leader in great crowds and make slaughter on all sides, so that Colgrin and Pandulf his Brother, and many thousand more fell before them. Cerdic on this imminent danger betook himself to flight.”

Berington, in his history of Henry II. says, that at an interview of Richard I. with Tancred King of Sicily, Richard presented him with the above noted sword Caliburn, which had effected such prodigies by the British Arthur.

As frequent references must be made in this poem to the armour worn by knights, at this period, I think it best to give a brief account of the principal parts of a knight's dress, for the conveniency of those to whom the subject may not be familiar:—

Chausses. A breeches of mail, which covered the feet and legs, and part of the thighs. Sometimes the feet (according to Gough) were defended with shoes, composed of double chain mail.

Gambeson. This was a garment made of cloth or leather, stuffed with wool, &c. fitted to the body, and designed to preserve warmth, as well as to defend from the chafing of the armour. Froissart says that John Tycle, a maker of gambesons in London, furnished the Insurgents under Wat Tyler and Jack Straw, with sixty pair, for which he charged twenty pounds, so that the value of these must have been six shillings each. Persons of consideration wore gambesons made of more costly materials, quilted with gold, &c.

Gorget, or throat-piece. This was made of iron or steel, adjusted to the neck, and worn immediately above the gambeson, and under the coat of mail. It was the accidental omission of a gorget, which occasioned the death of Ernald de Mounteney, who was slain in a tournament at Waldon, by Roger de Lemburne.

Hauberk, Habergeon. These names are often used in a synonymous sense, and signify a coat of mail. The hauberk however properly consisted of a coat or jacket, composed of mail or plate armour' without sleeves. This was the dress appropriate to knights. The habergeon was a large breast-plate, and was worn chiefly by esquires.

Singlaton, a coat or mantle made of rich materials.

Surcoat. A large external garment charged with armorial bearings.

Casque or Helmet. This was either open or close. The open helmets covered merely the head and neck, leaving the face unguarded. The close helmet covered the head, face, and neck, having in front apertures and slits for the admission of air, and which enabled the eye to distinguish surrounding objects. The part which lifted up was called the visor. The beaver was an improvement and was contrived to let up or down.

Greaves. An iron defence for the legs. These were sometimes called Chausses.

Gauntlet, a flexible iron glove. To throw the gauntlet on the ground was considered as an offer of fight which was picked up by him who chose to accept it. The whole of a knight's armour was often of great weight. Froissart speaks of four Italian knights who had come into France to seek adventures, and engaging in a war, in which they were unhorsed, from thickness and weight of their armour, they were incapable of rising, and were come at with great difficulty to be slain by their enemies.

Joffery of Monmouth gives a minute account of Brutus, the founder of the British Empire, but in the “Life of Ambrosius Merlin, with his strange prophecies” it is more succinctly stated, as follows. “Brute was of the ancient and noble blood of the Trojans, descended from Æneas and Creusa the Daughter of King Priam. This Brute, at fifteen years of age, by the unfortunate glancing of his arrow, slue his Father, for which disastrous act, he willingly exiled himself, and taking with him a choice company of adventurers, thought to discover some new plantation. To omit his many troubles, both by land and sea, at length he incountered a small navy of ships, of which a Trojane, and his near kinsman was Captain, whose name was Corineus, who joining their forces together, and after sundry and divers perils, landed in this Island (from its white and chalky cliffs) called Albion, where finding none but giants of mighty stature, he destroyed the most part of them: of whom the greatest both in bulke and command, was called Gogmagog, with whom Corlneus wrastling, to prove their triall of strength, Gogmagog in his gripe broke a rib in the side of Corineus, at which he being enraged, gathering all his spirits about him, cast him down the high Rock of Dover, (the place where they proved their mastery) which is called the fall of Gogmagog to this day, for which and other his valiant acts before achieved Brute gave him an entire province, which from his name beareth the title of Cornwall.

Brute then taking full view of the Island, scarching up the river Thames, built upon it a city, which in remembrance of the late subverted Troy, he called Troynovant, or New Troy, now London: this done he put his souldiers to the tilling of the earth and governed the realm peaceably for the space of twenty four years. Brute had three sons, between whom in his life-time he divided his kingdome. To Locrine the eldest, he gave all that is called England. To the second Son Cambrius or Cambre, he gave the now Country of Wales. To the third son Albanact, he gave the north part of the land, then titled from him Albania, now Scotland. This done he expired and was buried at Troynovant. This early account of the Britons, has often been considered as the fabrication of Joffery of Monmouth. Sammes (Anti. An. Bri.) says, “The composing of Brutus Geneology, the methodizing the circumstances of his life, the timeing of his entrance, the succession of his life, depends all on the credit of Joffery.” This perhaps is too sweeping an assertion. The story, as collected from Joffery is as follows. That Walter Mapeus, Arch-deacon of Oxford, in the reign of Henry I. happened while he was in Armorica, to light upon a history of Britain, written in the Welsh tongue, and carrying marks of great antiquity, which he brought over with him to England, and committed to Joffery of Monmouth, to translate. It is to be observed that this history, thus translated, was universally received as genuine at the time it was made public; while the learned Humphry Lhwyd, Sir John Price, and Dr. Powell, have supported its authenticity. Joffery cautions his contemporaries, William of Malmsbury and Henry of Huntingdon, in these words, against writing the history of the Britons. “I advise them to be silent concerning the Kings of the Britons, since they have not that book, writ in the British tongue, which Walter, Arch-deacon of Oxford, brought out of Britain (Armorica) and which being a true history, published in honour of those Princes, I have thus taken care to translate.” As a further argument to prove that Joffery's account of the origin of the Britons, is a genuine translation from an old Welsh Chronicle and not a fabrication, it may farther be stated, that Henry of Huntingdon (whom Joffery mentions as his contemporary historian,) though he had treated of the origin of the Britons and of Brutus the founder of their race, in the history which he had published before he had seen Joffery's translation; yet afterwards happening, as he says, to “light on Joffery's work, at Bec in Normandy,” he to complete his account of the ancient British affairs, and to testify to the world his confidence in the validity of Joffery's recent translation, made an abstract from it, and subjoined it as an appendix to his original history. These considerations may induce the reader to acquit Joffery of having deliberately deceived the world with the publication of a fictitious narrative, although (with Camden) it is to be wished that the authority on which the above British work rests, were better known and substantiated.

The district separating Wales from England was called the Marches and the Barons who resided there, the March Lords, of whom an account will be found in the Preface.

“The Cynethean Family descended from Coel a Northern Prince, who, by his marriage with the Heiress of North Wales, became the Sovereign of that Principality. Helena, the Daughter of this Prince, succeeded to his dominions, and was afterwards married to the Roman Emperor Constantius. The line of Helena becoming extinct, the Principality of North Wales devolved on Cynetha her Nephew, whose brave descendants inherited the throne, down to Llewellyn.”—Roxland.

Arthur had gone into Armorica to assist his nephew, king Howel, when his nephew Mordred, (with whom in his absence he had entrusted the government of Britain) proved a traitor. Returning to his own kingdom, Arthur met Mordred at Camlan, in Cornwall. The traitor was defeated and slain, but Arthur, in the conflict, received a wound, of which he lingered for some time, and at length died. He was interred at Glastonbury Abbey.

The Monastery of Bassingwerk, lying near the Dee, successively passed from the English to the Welsh and the Welsh to the English, as either power preponderated. Bradshaw, in his life of St. Werburg, relates, that, in the year 1119, Richard the First, on his going upon a pilgrimage to the Holy Well of St. Wenefrede, (in Wales) was suddenly attacked by the Welsh, and forced to take shelter in Bassingwerk. “There is a tradition that Richard, in his dilemma, applied to St. Werburg for relief, who miraculously raised certain sands, between Flintshire and Wiral, and thus gave means for his Constable to pass to his assistance, which sands, from that time, are called the Constable's Sands.” —Pennant.

The spirit of sacrilege, must have appeared in a light peculiarly flagitious to Llewellyn and his subjects, for “Welshmen, above all other nations, were accustomed to reverence Churches, and to attribute much honour unto Ecclesiastical persons. They used not to touch the most deadlyest Foes they had, if they escaped unto the Church.” H Lhuyd's Breviary of Britayne.

See Llewellyn's letter to the Arch Bishop, at the end of the volume.

“The year ensuing, all the Lords of Wales came to Prince Llewellyn, and made their complaints to him with weeping eyes, how cruelly they were handled by Prince Edward and others; their lands being taken from them by force, and if at any time they did offend, they were punished with extremity, but where they were wronged they found no remedy; therefore they protested before God and him, that they would rather die in the field in defence of their right, than to be made slaves to strangers: whereupon the Prince pitying his estate and theirs, determined with them utterly to refuse the rule of the Englishmen, and rather to die in liberty than to live in thraldom, shame and opprobrium.”—Powell.

“Lucas De Tanye was buried at Grest Stanbridge. He with several Earls, twelve of the King's Chiefest Captains and Knights, besides seventeen Young Gentlemen and two hundred Common Soldiers, were slain by the Welshmen, in the tenth year of King Edward the First.”—Weaver's Funeral Monuments.

“The day which Llewellyn had of King Edward himselfe may not bee forgotten, in which the Welsh slew three English Earls and got foureteene Ensigns from the English Armie, King Edward being enforced to enter into the Castle of Hope for safety.”—Speed.

“When Leolin understood that his Mistress was taken from him by the way as she was coming, he was not a little wrath, and incontinentlie began to make warre upon King Edward's subjects, that bordered neere unto Wales.”—Holinshed.

The joy arising from the breaking of the morning has seldom been felt in a greater degree, than it was on the following occasion:—

About a hundred sail of vessels proceeded from England for the West Indies in the August of 1809. Their course for some time was favorable, and all on board with undoubting confidence anticipated a prosperous voyage. One evening the sun descended with a yellow lustre. The air was mild, the wind fair, and every heart experienced felicity on beholding the regular progress of so large a fleet, all securely and tranquilly forcing their way through the illuminated and playful billows. One vessel in particular, a large and new ship, all eyes surveyed with admiration. The distant seamen recognised her as the “pride of the fleet”; as sailing on “like a Commodore.” At length the dark clouds of an encumbered sky concealed all objects from the sight. In the midst of darkness, a storm came on, without warning, as severe as ever visited poor mariners on the shelterless sea. In a moment, a gush of the elements laid one vessel (from the Captain of which this account was received) permanently on her side. For one hour and a half, in this perilous state she lay, her sails level with the water, darkness on every side, whilst the still-augmented roaring of the winds and the waves told every heart that its hour was near. In the midst of such convictions, “a speck of light” arose in the east, like a gem set in a sky of ebony. It was the first dawn of the morning! In the face of death, hope kindled afresh. Encouraged by the imperfect glimmering, which many would still have called night, the reviving crew, zealously advanced to cut away the masts, which when accomplished, the vessel righted. The winds now gradually subsided, and when the morning appeared, with heart-rending dismay, they saw the white heads of the huge billows strewed with wrecks! Of this gallant fleet, eleven ships, including her which was “the pride of the fleet,” which sailed on like a Commodore,” all perished utterly, in this night of horrors!

Hospitality was the most beautiful feature of the Monastic Institution. The pilgrim and the traveller, after toiling all day, felt consolation in the thought, that, on arriving at the Abbey, he would be welcomed with rest and refreshment. Adequate sums were always appropriated, expressly, for these purposes, and in the absence of Inne, Monasteries formed an excellent and a gratuitous substitute. This disposition to relieve all who came, originated in a benevolent feeling towards the suffering and the destitute, but as an universal custom admitted of no restrictions, men of ample fortunes and large retinues availed themselves of the privilege, and often by their long stay and boisterous behaviour became serious evils in such religious establishments. Earl Talbot is represented as one of these unreasonable visitors. Newcome, in his history of St. Alban's Abbey, speaks of Geoffery de Leizine, (half brother to Henry the Third) who “came to this Abbey, and, together with his attendants and horses, occupied the whole Monastery, and, during his stay, utterly subverted the order, regularity, and solemnity of the place. The strangers' stable, which would hold three hundred horses, without inconvenience, did not suffice this riotous Prince's retinue.” The motley group often to have been found in the kitchen and parlour of a monastery, has not been made enough of either by the poet or the painter.

Talbot's paternal arms, were, “Bend of ten pieces argent and gules,” but his father having married Guendoline, the daughter of “Rhys ap Griffith,” Prince of Wales, Earl Talbot renounced his family arms, and adopted those of Rhys, “Lion rampant or, in a field gules, with a border engrailed of the first.”

The colours orange and murrey (or brown) called, in heraldry, tenne and sanquin, were considered as disreputable, and if the bearer of a shield entitled to any of the superior colours, fell into disgrace, he was sometimes compelled to adopt in his arms one of the above disho nourable colours: a punishment almost as severe as that of turning a Knight's coat, of which some curious examples occurred in the fourteenth century.

The Monastery in France, to which Eleanor De Montford fled, with her Mother, after the death of Simon De Montford, at the battle of Evesham.

This line will remind many readers of the following Runic verses, “The complaint of Harold,” an ancient poem, tho' not so ancient as the poems of the Two Eddas. Harold was a famous Norwegian pirate, who had penetrated as far as the Mediterranean. His song exhibits a specimen of the pursuits and habits of the Scandinavians from the seventh to the eleventh century, with much of that spirit which was afterwards sublimised into knight errantry—

“My ship hath sailed round the isle of Sicily. Then were we all magnificent and splendid. My brown vessels, full of warriors, rapidly skimmed along the waves. Eager for the fight, I thought my sails would never slacken; and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.

“I fought in my youth with the inhabitants of Drontheim. They had troops superior in number. Dreadful was the conflict. Young as I was, I left their young king dead in the fight, and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.

“One day we were but sixteen on ship board. A tempest arose and swelled the ocean. The waves filled the loaded vessel, but we diligently cleared it. Thence I formed the brightest hopes: and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.

“I know how to perform eight exercises. I fight with courage. I keep a firm seat on horseback. I am skilled in swimming. I glide along the ice on skates. I excel at darting the lance. I am dexterous at the oar; and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.

“What tender maid or widow can deny, that in the morning, when posted near the city in the south, we joined battle; can deny that I left behind me lasting monuments of my valour; and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.

“I was born in the Uplands of Norway, where the inhabitants handle so well the bow. Now I make my ships (the dread of peasants) rush among the rocks of the sea. Far from the abode of men, I have ploughed the wide ocean with my vessels; and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.”

Another Norwegian hero says. “I am master of nine accomplishments. I play well at chess. I know how to engrave Runic letters. I am apt at my book, and know how to handle the tools of the smith. I traverse the snow on skates of wood. I excel in shooting with the bow, and in managing the oar. I sing to the harp, and compose verses.”

In the times of chivalry, the knight who threw his gauntlet on the ground offered the challenge, he who took it up accepted it.

The result of a combat, in the bad logic of our forefathers, was always admitted to refute or substantiate a charge. “William D'Ow, a Norman in the reign of William Rufus, was accused of Treason, and maintaining his innocence, by single combat, was defeated, upon which, by order of the King, he was deprived of his eyes.”—Camden.

The name given to the rails which excluded the gazers, and to approach so near as to touch which was proclaimed punishable with death.

From time immemorial references have been made to this extraordinary circumstance, as to an indubitable fact; but one who reasons on the subject, in the absence of direct evidence, must regard the assertion, that no venomous creature will live in Ireland, as utterly unfounded It is difficult to trace vulgar prejudices to their sources, but perhaps, from the infrequency with which noxious reptiles are found in Ireland, a person originally may have expressed a belief in the opinion. This is marvellous, and as the marvellous never wants propagators, another, on the faith of his predecessor, may have gone a little further, and roundly have asserted, what before was only a conjecture, and thus the story becomes strengthened by a progressive accession of worthless evidence, till at length no one is so unpolite as to doubt what every body believes. The old legends however assign a much easier cause for this peculiarity, by affirming, that, St. Patrick, at the approach of Lent, went into a mountain in Connaught, and, that after long abstinence, to this place he collected the several tribes of serpents and venomous creatures, when, after giving them a suitable address, he drove the whole of them into the Atlantic!

It is rather an unfortunate circumstance for those who espouse this sentiment, that the same story should have been propagated of the Isle of Thanet, in Kent; a privilege which it was supposed to enjoy from the virtue of St. Augustine, who, on coming over to Britain to convert the Saxons, first landed, it is said, on that island, when the whole of the poisonous brood, fled, never more to return. The assertion has long been refuted respecting Thanet, and it is an unaccountable circumstance that the evidence should be so lax respecting Ireland, as to allow any one, in the present day, to hesitate in affirming, that the whole is not more contrary to analogy than it is to fact. Giraldus (even in his time) mentions, that there was a dispute whether the Isle of Man should be regarded as naturally belonging to England or Ireland, it being about equally distant from both. It was at length however admitted to belong to England, as, upon inquiry, it was proved to contain “venomous creatures.”

The helmet was sometimes tied loosely, to save the wearer in a charge, Several instances have occurred where the helmet was cast from the head by the lance in tilting. This was the case at a tournament in which the champions were John of Holland, on the part of the English, and Raynard de Roye, on the part of the French. The latter had laced his helmet so slightly to his armour, that when the lance of his antagonist lighted on his visor, it fell from his head and averted the injury he would otherwise have received. This was considered as an artifice which gave great offence to the English spectators, but the Duke of Lancaster who was present commended the Frenchman's dexterity, and said that “both of them, in this matter should be permitted to do as they pleased, but added, for his part he should wish to have his helmet buckled as tight as it was possible.”

One of the most furious combats on record is that mentioned by Holinshed, in the reign of Richard II. between a Knight and a Squire, which, as a picture of the times, is here presented to the reader.

“On the seventh of June, 1380, a combat was fought afore the King's Palace at Westminster, on the pavement there, betwixt one Sir John Anneslie, Knight, and one Thomas Katering Esquier; the occasion of which strange and notable triall rose hereof. The Knight accused the Squire of treason, for that where the fortresse of St. Saviour, in Normandy, belonging sometime to Sir John Chandois (to which the Knight was heir. This is the Sir John Chandos, who was one of the chief military heroes, in the reign of Richard II. who won the battle of Auray, over the French, under disadvantageous circumstances, and whose death is so circumstantially and feelingly described by Froissart,) had been committed to the said Katrington, to keep it against the Enemy, whereas he, for money, had sold: and delivered it over to the Frenchmen, when he was sufficiently provided of men, munition and vittals to have defended it against them. By the opinion of true and ancient Knights it was ordained that the truth of the charge should be proven or refuted by fair battell. Hereupon was the place and day appointed, and all things provided readie, with rails and lists made so substantiallie as if the same should have endured forever. The concourse of people that came to London to see this sight was supposed to exceed that of the King's Coronation.

“The king, his nobles, and all the people being come together in the morning of the day appointed, to the place where the lists were set up, the Knight being armed mounted on a faire courser seemelie trapped, entered first as appellant, and shortly after was the Squire called to defend his cause. He, at the third call, did come armed likewise, and riding on a courser trapped with traps imbroidered with his arms. Before they entered battell, they take an oath, as well the Knight as the Squire, that the cause in which they were to fight was true, and that they dealt with no witchcraft, nor art magike, whereby they might obteine the victorie of their adversarie, nor had about them any herbe or stone, or other kind of experiment with which magicians used to triumph over their enemies. This oath received of either of them, and therewith having made their praiers devoutlie, they began the battell, first with spears, after with swords, and lastlie with daggers. They fought long, till finallie the Knight had bereft the Esquier of all his weapons, and at length the Esquier was manfully overthrown by the Knight. But as the Knight would have fallen upon the Esquier, through sweat that ran down by his helmet, his sight was hindered, so that thinking to fall upon the Esquier he fell down sideling himselfe, not coming neere to the Esquire, who perceiving what had happened, although he was almost overcome with long fighting, made to the Knight and threw himselfe upon him, so that many thought the Knight should have beene overcome, other doubted not but that the Knight would recover his feete againe, and get the victorie of his adversary.

“The King in the mean time caused it to be proclaimed that they should staie, and that the Knight should be raised up from the ground, and so meant to take up the matter petwixt them. To be short, such were sent as should take up the Esquier, but coming to the Knight, he besought them that it might please the King to permit them to lie still, for he thanked God he was well, and mistrusted not to obteine the victorie, if the Esquier might be laid on him in manner as he was earst. Finallie when it would not be so granted, he was contented to be raised up, and was no sooner set on his feet, but he cheerfullie went to the King, without any man's helpe, where the Esquier could neither stand nor go without the helpe of two men to hold him up, and therefore was set in his chair to take his ease, to see if he might recover his strength.

“The Knight, at his comming before the King besought him and his nobles to grant him so much that he might be oftsoones laid on the ground, as before, and the Esquier to be laid aloft upon him: for the Knight perceived that the Esquier, through excessive heat, and the weight of his armour, did marvellouslie faint, so as his spirits were in a manner taken from him.

“The King and his nobles perceiving the Knight so couragiouslie to demand to try the battle forth to the uttermost, offering great summes of monie that so it might be doone, decreed that they should be restored againe to the same plight in which they laie when they were raised up. But in the mean time the Esquier fainting, and falling downe in a swoone, fell out of his chaire, as one who was like to yeeld up his last breath presentlie among them. Those that stood about him cast wine and water upon him, seeking to bring him again, but all would not serve till they plucked off the armor and his whole apparell, which thing proved the Knight to be vanquisher. After a little time the Esquier begane to come to himselfe, and lifting up his eyes, began to hold up his head, and to cast a ghostlie looke on every one about him, which when it was reported to the Knight, he cometh to him armed as he was and speaking to him, called him Traitor and false perjured man, asking him if he durst trie the battell with him againe, but the Esquier having neither sense nor spirit whereby to make answer, proclamation was made that the battell was ended. The Esquier immediatelie after he was brought to his lodging and laid in bed, began to war raging words, and so continuing still out of his wits, about nine of the clocke the next day, he yeelded up the ghost. This combat was fought the seventh of June to the great rejoicing of the common people and discouragement of Traitours.”

The appointed battle at Coventry, in the year 1398, between the Duke of Norfolk and the Duke of Hereford, as detailed by Stow, and Holinshed, presents a better exhibition than the preceding of the circumstances attendant on a solemn combat, but it is too long for a note in this place.