'meal.' In the month of May, the duke of Normandy sat down before this stronghold, but October came and its gallant defenders still held out as vigorously as ever. At last the besiegers determined to cross the river and cut of all means of foraging from the garrison. A bridge was with this view constructed at a prodigious expense of labour, but just as the troops were about to put themselves in motion upon it, Manny let slip three heavy vessels, which carried down by a rapid current, struck the props and swept them away. A second bridge, stronger and better provided with the means of warding off a similar attack, was instantly constructed; but Manny, in a single night, cut down or rendered abortive the labour of several weeks. Again, De Lisle resumed his bridge-building, and with more success; his army crossed the Garonne, and the castle was assaulted without intermission for several successive weeks. Battering-rams were wrought incessantly against the walls, catapults and other engines poured showers of stones, beams, and darts, upon the battlements,—while from large moveable towers or belfries, the cross-bow men and archers sent flights of arrows within the walls. Still the brave De Manny, untired in spirit and unexhausted in resources, held out, till the assailants, despairing of conquest by any other means, thought of converting the assault into a blockade; but the battle of Crecy changed the face of affairs, and the siege of Auguillon was suddenly raised by the duke, who set off to support his father.

When the duke was fairly gone, Manny, loathing to be shut up in inactivity whilst his brethren in arms were gaining such splendid laurels elsewhere, sent for a 'great knight,' whom he had captured, and demanded to know what sum he was willing to pay for his ransom. "Three thousand crowns," replied his prisoner. "I know you are nearly related to the duke of Normandy," answered Manny, “that you are much esteemed by him, and one of his counsellors. I will set you free upon your honour provided you will instantly go to the duke ana obtain a passport for myself and twenty others, that we may ride through France to Calais, paying courteously for whatever we may require. If you obtain this, I will hold you free from your ransom, and also be much indebted to you; but if you fail, you will return within a month to this fortress as your prison." The knight accepted the proposal and obtained the wished-for passport; and such was the high faith and courtesy of those days, that under its protection, Manny, with his twenty companions, set out to travel the whole breadth of France, and were well received and hospitably treated wherever they came. At Orleans, however, Sir Walter was arrested by order of King Philip and conducted to Paris, where he was cast into prison; but the duke of Normandy hastened to remonstrate against such a breach of knightly faith, and declared, that unless Sir Walter was instantly liberated, he would never again wield sword or lance in defence of the French crown. The king yielded to his son's representation, and Manny was not only set at liberty, but received various costly jewels and other gifts from Philip, which he accepted on the condition that he should be permitted to return them if his royal master disapproved of his retaining them. The conclusion of the story we give in Froissart's own words :- "He arrived at Calais," says the chronicler, "where he wa well-received by the king of England, who, being informed by S

Walter of his presents he had from the king of France, said, 'Sir Walter, you have hitherto most loyally served us, and we hope you will continue to do so: send back to King Philip his presents, for you have no right to keep them. We have enough, thank God, for you and for ourselves, and are fully disposed to do you all the good in our power for the services you have rendered us.' Thereupon, Sir Walter took out all the jewels, and giving them to his cousin, the lord of Mansoe, said :-" -Ride into France to King Philip, and recommend me to him, and tell him that I thank him many times for the fine jewels which he presented me with, but that it is not agreeable to the will and pleasure of my lord, the king of England, that I retain them.' So the knight did as he was directed," continues Froissart; "but the king of France would not take back the jewels, but gave them to the lord of Mansoe, who thanked the king for them, and had no inclination to refuse them."

During the prevalence of the plague in England, and while London was threatened by that dreadful visitant, Sir Walter exerted himself

great humanity to soothe the sufferings of the people. "It pleased God," says Henrie, "in this dismal time to stir up the heart of this noble knight to have respect to the danger that might fall in the time of this pestilence, then begun in England, if the churches and churchyards in London might not suffice to bury the multitude. Wherefore, he purchased a piece of ground near St John's street, called Spittlecroft, without the bars in West Smithfield, of the master and brethren of St Bartholomew Spittle, containing thirteen acres and a rood, and caused the same to be enclosed and consecrated by Ralph Stratford, bishop of London, at his own proper costs and charges. In which place, in the year following-Stow reports-were buried more than 50,000 persons, as is affirmed by the king's charter, and by an inscription which he read upon a stone cross sometime standing in the Charter-house yard.”

In 1360, Sir Walter accompanied the army which Edward led to the gates of Paris, and when it was proposed to withdraw without having measured lances with any part of the garrison, deeming such a thing a disgrace to English chivalry, he requested and obtained permission to make an incursion as far as the barrier; and he effected his purpose after a long and furious encounter with the Parisian knights. Nine years after this, Sir Walter closed his military services with conducting a destructive inroad from Calais into the heart of France. He then retired to his home in London, where he employed the remaining years of his life in calmly preparing for his last change. He died in 1372, and was buried with great pomp in the cloister of a Carthusian convent founded by himself; the king himself, and a long train of nobility honoured his funeral with their attendance. He left behind him one only child, a daughter, named Anne, who marrying the earl of Pem broke, transferred to that noble house all the possessions of her family both in England and Hainault.

Richard EE.

BORN A. D. 1365.-died a. D. 1399.

Ir was the great calamity of this worthless ruler, that he became, at the mere age of childhood, to so great an extent his own master. He was not more than eleven when he made, as king of England, his entry into London, amid all the extravagance of splendour and pageantry which characterized the public exhibitions of that age. There were mock castles and turrets, and wine-fountains, and angels offering crowns of gold, and bright maidens scattering golden showers, with all the mirth and madness of popular festivals. Young as he was, it may easily be conceived that so brilliant a display, contrasting so vividly with the sad seclusion of his widowed mother's residence at Sheen, might first kindle within him that taste for show and revelry which disgraced his riper years, and, by oppressing his people with taxation, hastened his destruction. Now, however, his popularity was unbound. ed. His father, the Black Prince, had supported the cause of good government to the last, and the son, attractive in person and engaging in manner, seemed destined to retrieve the errors which had accompanied the decrepitude of the grandfather. In the following year, his coronation renewed, with added splendour, the popular rejoicings; but the first meeting of parliament was ominous of a troubled reign; and it is exceedingly difficult, amid conflicting authorities and confused statements, to determine the balance of delinquency between faction and misrule. The king's uncles and the king's favourites were at fierce variance, and, while to some of them the quarrel was fatal, none of them came out of the contest unscathed. The middle classes seem to have looked on with an observant eye, and with a shrewd estimate of England's real interests. The Commons' house objected to the expense of the government and the court,-to the system of favouritism,—to the unprofitable cost of the continental fortresses, and in general, to the entire system of national policy. To these just remonstrances, the only reply seems to have been evasive promises of amendment, accompanied by urgent demands for heavy subsidies. Among other suggestions as to the most expedient mode of raising the supplies, a poll-tax was recommended by the lords; and the commons, in evil hour, consented to the imposition. It was rigorously levied; and the severe exaction, added to the gross misconduct of the collectors, raised the people to almost universal insurrection, and they assembled from the metropolitan counties, on Blackheath, to the amount of not fewer than one hundred thousand men. They gained partial possession of London, surprised the tower, and put to death the archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Robert Hales the treasurer,' Legge, one of the farmers of the tax, and several others. In this crisis, Richard—who seems to have been personally popular with the insurgents-behaved with uncommon spirit; notwithstanding the advice of those who dissuaded him from conceding to a set of shoeless ribalds,' he boldly presented himself to the furious mob, first at Mile End, and a second time in Smithfield. This last interview was decisive. Wat Tyler, who appears to have

menaced the sovereign, was struck down by Walworth, mayor of London; and Richard, with singular promptitude and address, persuaded the populace to follow him to the fields near Islington, where they hastily dispersed at the appearance of an armed force. The government, relieved from its apprehensions, revoked the amnesty which had been proclaimed, and sent a special commission into the country, with Tresilian at its head, and that worthy prototype of Jefferies is said to have saved himself much trouble by taking accusation as synonymous with guilt. The nation, in fact, seems to have been at this time in a state of strange commotion; and it is easy to perceive from the nature of the doctrines said to have been enforced by some of the public teachers of the day, that the lower orders were roused to a fierce resentment of the encroachments and oppressions of their superiors.

When Adam delved and Eve span,

Who then was the gentleman?

—was the pithy text of one of their favourite preachers; and it affords sufficient indication of the spirit engendered by the circumstances of the time. The wars of Edward, the necessities of the government, and the factions of a weak minority, had taught the people the tremendous lesson of their united strength, though they had not yet learned to systematise their combination. The king's uncles, the majority of them at least, seem to have been ambitious; the motives of the duke of Lancaster are especially questionable, and had he been more successful in war, or more consistent in conduct, he might have effected the highest designs. The strong feeling and bold character of the times are manifest in the works and history of Wickliffe. That ecclesiastical reformer was the precursor of Luther; his intrepid assailance of hierarchical abuses, and his powerful exhibition of evangelical truth, entitle him to the fame both of a confessor and a discoverer.

But if, in the early deeds of Richard, there was somewhat of promise, it was not sustained by his after-actions. He attached himself to favourites, and the old historians describe circumstances of indecency that give reason to doubt the purity of his regard. He was passionate to folly, and betrayed a large measure of that vindictive disposition which seems to have been hereditary in his family. His domestic expenditure was a mad exhibition of ultra-extravagance; and his personal vanity was gratified at a reckless cost. He set the Commons at defiance" he would not displace the meanest scullion in his kitchen, for their pleasure." At length this reached the point beyond which endurance was cowardice, and he was compelled to submit for a season; but with the fixed purpose of re-asserting and avenging at a more convenient time his violated dignity. His chief favourite, who had by an act of insulting profligacy, excited the indignation of the duke of Gloucester, one of the king's uncles, inflamed the resentment of the monarch, and the duke's life was endangered. The king summoned his militia, and the barons armed their retainers, and the people sided with the nobles. Richard and his councillors shrunk from the unequal contest; he was compelled to dismiss his obnoxious minions, and for a moment stood in peril of deposition. The struggle between despotism and insubordination did not, however, go this length, and the king was again

placed under tutelage; but the duke of Gloucester abused his triumph by acts of unrelenting cruelty: the parliament, which seconded his designs, obtained from some the distinctive epithet 'merciless,' though others exalted it by the doubtful appellation 'wonderful.' Richard's cousin, Henry of Lancaster, earl of Derby, son of John of Gaunt, and nephew of the duke of Gloucester, although one of the insurgent lords, and mainly concerned in defeating the king's array, opposed these sanguinary proceedings.

In 1889, however, Richard, by a bold and decisive step, re-assumed his authority, and reigned for some years in comparative tranquillity. But his vindictive spirit had never forgiven the injuries of former years, and in 1397, under forms which were a mere mockery of judgment, he procured the impeachment and condemnation of the more obnoxious of his opponents, and among these the earl of Arundel was beheaded, and the duke of Gloucester secretly murdered. The atrocity of this act was enhanced by the treachery which prepared the way for its execution. The king himself, with coward craft, decoyed his uncle, under fair pretences, from his house at Pleshy, and drew him into an ambuscade. But the very steps which were designed for the advancement of his authority became the precursors of his fall. His impolitic barbarity roused the general indignation, and a feeling of insecurity agitated the minds of some of his most powerful nobles. A conversation-of which the particulars are on record, but the true character of which it is not now possible to ascertain-between Henry, earl of Derby, lately made duke of Hereford, and Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, led to consequences which deprived Richard of his crown. Both those powerful noblemen were banished, but Hereford was too popular to be offended with impunity his partisans were active in his cause, and during the king's absence in Ireland the duke returned from France, and a formidable army soon collected round his standard. The intelligence was late in reaching Richard, and after receiving it he lingered in Ireland till his cause was lost. He landed at last in Wales, and took refuge in the strong castle of Conway. From this asylum he was drawn by the persuasions of the earl of Northumberland, and brought into the presence of Henry, who spoke him fair, but transferred him to safe custody. A few days brought these transactions to a termination, Richard signed his resignation, and Henry of Bolingbroke assumed the state and title of King of England. The instrument of deposition bears date September 29, 1399.1

Thomas, Duke of Gloucester.

DIED A. D. 1357.

In the first parliament held after Richard's Scottish campaign, Thomas of Woodstock, earl of Buckingham, was rewarded by his nephew with the dukedom of Gloucester, but the gift was too small for the inordinate ambition of the man. The absence of his elder brother, the duke of Lancaster, in Portugal, afforded him a favourable oppor

Rot. Parl. iii. 416.