An Island Story - H. E. Marshall (best books to read in your 20s .TXT) 📗
- Author: H. E. Marshall
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“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 honor 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 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 armor 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.
RICHARD II. OF BORDEAUX—THE STORY OF WAT TYLER’S REBELLION
WHEN Edward III. died in 1377 A.D., 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 III. Poll means head, and it really was 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 Wat, that Wat struck him on the head with his hammer and killed him.
This man Wat or Walter was a tiler of houses, and from that he was called “Wat the Tiler” or Tyler. In those days people very often took their names from the work they did.
As soon as it became known that Wat 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 Wat 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 Wat Tyler, Jack Straw, and a priest called John Ball.
This 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 Wat 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
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