Some which the collected material was ready to his hand. tracts already written had given practice to his pen. In seven books of Latin, whose clear simplicity reflected the calm and steady light that burned within his brain, he summed up all he knew of science as it then was, treating, among other things, of grammar, mathematics, astronomy, chronology, geography, music, optics, and experimental philosophy in general. The geographical section, which combines the observations of the ancient world with the researches of contemporary travellers, possesses considerable interest. His examination of the calendar supplied arguments to men who investigated its defects two hundred years later. When the Opus Majus was finished, Bacon sent it by the hand of a favourite pupil and eminent mathematician, John of London, to the Pope, whose desire for knowledge had called it into being. Two other works by Bacon, Opus Minus and Opus Tertium-the former an epitome of the Majus, the latter a sequel to it- -are said to have been despatched to Rome at the same time.* The jealousy and hate with which the heads of the Franciscan body regarded the daring philosopher smouldered long, but at last burst into flame. A charge of using magic, founded 1278 on the old notion that he had the devil's help, was trumped up against this glory of his century and his land. His lecture-room was shut, his books were condemned as unholy things; and at the age of sixty-four he was summoned to Paris, that he might hear from the lips of Jerome, general of his order, a sentence of destruction on his books and of imprisonment on his person. It seems a hard ending for such a blameless life. But the very nature of his occupations took the sting from the punishment; for it was not so difficult for a studious man to reconcile himself to the gloom of prison walls. His world lay within; and no change of place could *The Opus Majus was edited in 1733 by Dr. Jebb. The seventh book, on moral philosophy, has been lost or overlooked. The manuscripts of the Opus Minus and the Opus Tertium are in the Cottonian Library. rob him of empire there. So for ten years, while earnest efforts were made to obtain his release, he mused and theorized, probably experimented, and certainly wrote in his jail, very much as he had done in his cell at Oxford. Three times St. Peter's chair changed its occupant, before, at the intercession of some great men, his prison doors were unlocked. He came out to work as he had worked through all his life. Returning to Oxford, he found there a grave in the church of that order from which he had suffered such bitter injustice and despite. His last work was a manual of theology, finished not long before his death, which probably took place in 1292. 1292 Roger Bacon and his great Scottish contemporary and intellectual kinsman, Michael Scott of Balwearie, loved the crucible and the retort and the astrolabe, and dabbled in volumes of magical lore such as the Arabs of Toledo loved and taught. They could not help taking a colour from the age they lived in, any more than the summer sea can help reflecting the sapphire arch that bends above it. But they were no mere alchemists or astrologers. Amid all the fascinations which the phantom-stone and the phantom-elixir exercised on their heated imaginations, in common with all the world in the Middle Ages, they clung with unswerving love to a goddess whose service brings its own reward. the Third). All England rejoiced in the presence of a king, ripe in bodily strength and military skill, who gave promise of a long and glorious reign. The poor hunted Jews alone trembled and were sad, as indeed they well might. Casting his eyes west and north, this tall soldier of six-andthirty saw that the whole island was not his. It became the object of his policy to push his English frontiers out to the sea on every side, and to absorb Wales and Scotland in the greater might of the southern realm. A statesman's instinct, resting its conclusions upon the geographical position and structure of Britain, taught this keen-eyed king to foresee that our island, if held by one united national brotherhood, might defy the assaults or direct the destinies of almost all the world. 1277 Beginning with the nearer and, as it turned out, the easier task, he led an army in 1277 into Wales, where Llewelyn ap Gryffyth wore the ancient crown. All the Norman kings but one or two had turned the edge of their swords on the rocks of Wales. Edward himself in 1263 had crossed the Severn and pierced a toilsome way to the foot of Snowdon without avail. He now came resolved to conquer. The struggle with Montfort and the trials of the Crusade had not been a barren training. While he passed from Chester to Flint and Rhuddlan with his soldiers, a fleet from the Cinque Ports blockaded all the havens of the Welsh coast. Shut up in his forests, Llewelyn was starved into the acceptance of most humiliating terms. He was to pay 50,000 marks, to yield up all his kingdom as far as to the river Conway, to do homage, and to give hostages. Anglesey alone was to remain in his hands, but even for it he was to pay a yearly rent of 1,000 marks. Five years later the flame of war broke out afresh. David, the brother of the Welsh king, spurning the gilded bondage of * Rhuddlan, a village of 1,472 inhabitants, on the Clwyd in Flintshire, about two miles from the sea. 1282 the English court, was reconciled to Llewelyn. He seized Roger Clifford, the English justiciary of North Wales, in Hawarden Castle, and carried him captive to the mountains. Welsh armies then laid siege to the castles of Flint and Rhuddlan. Edward, who had foreseen this crisis, cleared a way with the axe to Snowdon, while his fleet pounced on Anglesea. Pouring round Snowdon bands of Basques from the gorges of the Pyrenees-men trained from boyhood to the warfare of the mountains-he tracked the Cymri to their remotest strongholds, and by a movement from the south compelled Llewelyn to march toward the Wye. There, caught with only one or two attendants, while engaged in surveying the valley of that stream, the last Prince of Wales received a lance in his side, which laid him dead. His head, crowned in mockery with a silver ring and then with an ivy wreath, rotted on the battlements of the Tower of London. David tried to maintain the war; but vainly. Betrayed into English hands, he was hanged and mutilated with revolting cruelty at Shrewsbury in the following autumn. The conquered land, parcelled into counties and placed under the rule of sheriffs, thus became an appendage of the English crown. 1283 It so happened that a son and heir was born to Edward at Caernarvon Castle, just when the conquest of Wales was completed. Skilfully taking advantage of this 1284 circumstance, the English king, some time afterwards, erected his newly-acquired territory into a principality, and made his little son the first Prince of Wales, greatly to the joy of the mountaineers, who hailed one born in their country as their lawful lord far more easily than they could acknowledge subservience to a king who had been cradled by the Thames. Thus Edward accomplished one portion of his scheme. He found the other a harder task. While he was preparing to go to Gascony, news came that Alexander the Third of Scotland was dead, having in a dark night ridden over a precipice near Kinghorn (1286). A little child of three, whom chroniclers call the Maid of Norway, thus became by her grandfather's death the Queen of Scotland. It occurred to Edward by-and-by that he might bloodlessly secure the union of the kingdoms by the marriage of this girl with his son. The proposal was made; a treaty was concluded (1289); and Scottish ships went over the sea to Norway to bring the little bride-elect to her mother's land. She died at Orkney in 1290, shattering every hope that had been built upon her life and reign. * Edward then resolved to shape to his own ends the unhappy strife which rose around the vacant throne. Of thirteen claimants of the royal seat, only two seemed to possess any solid ground for their claim. They were John Balliol of Galloway and Robert Bruce of Annandale, both descended from David, Earl of Huntingdon, the brother of William the Lion. Bruce was the son of Isabella, David's second daughter. Balliol was the grandson of Margaret, his eldest daughter. Bruce was nearer to the royal stock; Balliol was in the more direct line. † In order to avoid a civil war, the Estates of Scotland invited the English king to act as umpire in this momentous dispute. He accepted the office, and asked the Scottish nobles 1291 to meet him to hear his decision. They assembled in 1291 in the parish church of Norham, where Edward startled them by asserting his feudal superiority over Scotland, and by demanding that it should be at once recognized. Whether the claim was just or not, the competitors saw it to be for their interest to propitiate the umpire, and both of them admitted it. Commissioners were then appointed-forty friends * It has been doubted whether the Maid really died there. According to one story, she was carried off to the Continent by some of the Scottish nobles who wished to get the crown. Ten years afterwards, a young woman appeared in Norway, and claimed to be Margaret, Eric's daughter. Some believed her story, but she was burned at the stake as an impostor. † See Genealogical Table at end of chapter. Norham, a castle on the English side of the Tweed, about half-way between Berwick and the mouth of the Till. |