by a letter of threats and reproached, which was addressed to Stephen Langton, commanding him and his colleagues at once to cease their opposition to the king. Langton, with a high-souled courage, the full extent of which we can now only imperfectly appreciate, disregarded the command, and dared to defend a righteous cause, even in defiance of the Pope. The king, as a last effort to sustain his tottering throne, assumed the cross, making a solemn oath that he would lead an army on a new crusade to the Holy Land.
When Easter day arrived the king was at Oxford. The barons of England assembled at Stamford, attended by 2,000 knights, and vast multitudes of their retainers, and of the people. They had marched within a few miles of Oxford, when they were met by Stephen Langton, the Earl of Warrenne, and the Earl of Pembroke, who came to bear their message to the king. The barons delivered the schedule containing the chief articles of the petition, and declared that if their claims were not instantly granted, they would appeal to arms. When the deputation returned to the king, and Langton explained to him the terms of the document which he brought, John fell into a transport of rage, and swore that he would not grant them liberties which would make him a slave. He proposed some modifications of the charter, which were at once rejected. Pandulph, who stood at his side, asserted that the primate of the kingdom ought to excommunicate the rebels; but Langton replied that the Pope's real intentions had not been expressed, and that so far from doing so, he would excommunicate the foreign mercenaries which overran the kingdom, unless the king ordered their instant dismissal.
The barons now declared war against the king, chose Robert Fitz-Walter as their leader, and marched against the castle of Northampton, which was garrisoned by foreigners. "The army of God and the Church," for so they styled themselves, was composed of the best and bravest men in the kingdom; but the strong fortress to which they first laid siege resisted all their attacks. They had prepared no battering-rams, or other necessary engines; and the garrison, on their side, fought with the desperation of men who knew that they had earned for their misdeeds a bitter retribution. After fifteen days the besiegers raised the siege, and marched towards Bedford. The barons were strong in arms, and in the justice of their cause; but their strength was not of itself sufficient to overturn the throne, or force the king to submission. Within the past century a middle class of freemen had been growing up in the country, increasing in wealth and influence year by year. Had the king possessed the affections of the free burghers of England, the Anglo-Norman barons, powerful as they were, would have been driven from the country; but the people knew that now, at least, the cause of the nobles was their own, and they rose with joy to welcome the pioneers of freedom. The men of Bedford opened their gates at the approach of the army, and the citizens of London sent messengers to the leaders, inviting them to march thither with all speed, and assuring them of the support of the people.
On Sunday, the 24th of May, the troops of Fitz-Walter reached the capital. The city of London lay wrapped in that Sabbath stillness which, on summer days, descends like a blessing upon an English landscape, as though Nature herself had ceased from labour. The gates were open, and the music of the church bells floated softly through the air as the "army of God" approached the walls. They passed through the streets in perfect order and profound silence—a mien well suited to convey to all who saw them a conviction of the solemn nature of the duty they came to perform, and of the calm determination with which they would persue their object. On the following day the barons issued a proclamation to all the nobles and knights of the kingdom who had remained neutral, calling upon them to join the national standard, unless they wished to be treated as enemies of their country. This proclamation aroused the slumbering patriotism of those who received it. The baron, with his troop of men at-arms, and the knight, whose only property was his horse and his sword, alike hastened to London. In the words of the old chroniclers, there is no need to name the men who composed the "army of God and the Church;" they were the whole nobility of England.
Such a demonstration as this might have made a much braver monarch than John Lackland turn white with fear. Only a very few knights from among his numerous courtiers remained at his side, and these were hardly retained in their allegiance by a mingling of lavish promises and threats. The terror of the king now conquered his rage. Once more he assumed an affable demeanour, and with a sickly smile he told the Earl of Pembroke that the barons had done well, and that, for the sake of peace and the exaltation of his reign, he was ready to grant the liberties they demanded. From Odiham, in Hampshire, where John was then staying, the Earl of Pembroke carried this message to his friends, and informed them that the king only desired them to name a day and place of meeting. The barons replied—"Let the day be the 15th of June; the place. Runny-mead."
The scene thus chosen was well suited to the occasion. No narrow walls of wood or stone, which in succeeding years should crumble into dust and leave no trace, bore witness to the solemn act whose effects were destined to extend to remotest ages—the victory of freedom was gained under the free sky, the dome of the universal temple of God. On the appointed day the king quitted Windsor Castle, and proceeded to the green meadow which was called by the Saxon name of Runny-mead, situated on the banks of the Thames, between Staines and Windsor. He was attended by Pandulph, Almeric, the Grand Master of the Templars, the Earl of Pembroke, together with eight bishops and thirteen other men of rank; but of these, though they stood at his side, few really adhered to the tyrant, or were prepared to give him any advice contrary to the wishes of the people. On the other side stood the barons of the kingdom, attended by a vast multitude, representing all other classes of the population. So completely was the arrogance of the king subdued, so hopeless appeared all resistance, that, with scarcely a word of remonstrance, John signed the document presented to him, which, as the foundation of the liberties of England, is known to us by the name of Magna Charta—the Great Charter.
To the Englishman of modern times, the event of that day bears a deep and solemn interest, far surpassing that of battles or of conquests. He is surrounded now by many of the blessings which freedom gives to all who live beneath her sway. Under her warm smile civilisation
