'Ye myght have asked towres, and townes, None soe pleasant to my pay, she sayd; Madame, sith it is your desyre, The quene was a glad woman, That true men shal they be.'-Ib. P. 45. How closely do these verses resemble the pleadings of Philippa for the burghers of Calais, and the answer of Edward. Ah, gentle sir, since I have crossed the seas with great danger to see you, I have never asked you one favor, and now I ear'nestly ask as a gift, for the sake of the Son of the blessed Mary, and for your love to me, that you will be merciful to these six men.' The king looked at her for some time in silence, and then said, 'Ah, lady, I would you had been any'where else than here; you have so entreated, that I cannot ́ refuse-I give them to you to do what you please with them.' We might almost believe that the author of this ballad had heard the tale of Philippa's successful mediation, not indeed from Froissart, for his delightful chronicles were composed in courtly French, but from some of those men-at-arms, or gallant archer bands, who had witnessed the scene. The pardon is scarcely granted when letters from Carlisle arrive, detailing the last misdeeds of the outlaws. The king is sorely vexed, but, in the true spirit of chivalry, he does not attempt to violate the promise so incautiously given. He expresses a wish to see them shoot, and the incident in Ivanhoe of Lockesley shooting at the willow wand is closely copied from this old ballad. Cloudesley emboldened by the king's astonishment, now offers to place an apple on his son's head, and at the distance of six score paces, to cleave it in two. The king commands him to do it; and the apocryphal feat related of William Tell is performed by the bold English outlaw, William of Cloudesley. And whan he made hym redy tosh ote, But' Cloudesle clefte the apple in two, Over Gods forbode, sayde the kinge, That thou shold shote at me.'-Ib. p. 46. The ballad concludes with the king appointing him bowbearer and chief ranger of the northern forests, and with the characteristic prayer that 'All that with the hand bowe shooteth, We have gone over this admirable old ballad rather at length, because it illustrates the remarks we have just made upon this species of composition. As pictures of the manners of the higher classes, or as corroborations of history, ballads are utterly worthless. But as pictures of life among the peasantry or dwellers in the upland towns, above all, as illustrations of the feeling, especially the political feeling, of our forefathers at a very early period, they are most valuable. None but a yeomanry devotedly attached to their free institutions could have cherished from generation to generation such ballads as this, and those so similar in character, which tell of the prowess and free spirit of Robin Hood, who cared neither for king or baron.' And yet, we have been told, and with a large class it is still an article of orthodox belief, that our forefathers, until the parliamentary struggle, were in possession of scarcely a political right; that the great charter was merely intended to secure the rights of a privileged few, and that the mass of the people during the illustrious sway of our Plantagenets, were mere bondsmen. The second work on our table, 'The Political Songs of 'England,' might of itself alone show the groundlessness of these opinions; for in it,-in the very rudest English, just at the period of its latest transition from the Saxon,-we find exulting songs on the defeat of the king's friends, bitter satire and fierce invectives against the royal favorites, and bold assertions of popular rights, such as we doubt have been scarcely surpassed in modern periods of our history. And what will yet more excite surprise to those who have only become acquainted with history through the ordinary medium is, that the clergy 'led the way as bold reformers, and the refectory of the monastery, no less than the baronial hall, rang frequently with the ' outbursts of popular feeling.' The oldest political song hitherto discovered, is that composed on the defeat of Richard of Almaigne (as he was called in consequence of his having been crowned Emperor of Ger many), and the barons of the king's party, at the battle of Lewes. It is in Percy's Reliques, but we give three verses from the more correct copy in the Political Songs.' 'Sitteth alle stille ant herkneth to me: For te make the pees in the countré, Richard, thah thou be ever trichard (deceitful), The Kyng of Alemaigne wende do ful wel, With hare sharpe swerdes he grounde the stel, Richard, etc. Be the luef, be the loht, sire Edward, Edward, thou dudest ase a shreward, forsoke thyn emes lore (uncle's teaching). Richard, etc.'-Political Songs, pp. 69, 71. Edward, afterwards king, it will be remembered, had sworn to maintain the Oxford provisions, but he subsequently withdrew; this was the 'forsaking his uncle's teaching,' alluded to above, for De Montfort, as well as Richard, was his uncle, by marriage with Elinor the sister of King Henry. The phrase 'thou shalt ride spurless,' we think refers not merely to his hasty flight, but to his perfidy. He had broken his oath, and therefore was no longer worthy to wear the distinctive badge of the knight, the gilt spur. But while the populace thus exulted that Richard 'trichen should never more; the learned clerk indited a long and elaborate Latin poem to celebrate this triumph of popular rights. This poem is very curious, and well worthy of attentive perusal by the inquirer who is desirous of ascertaining the state of public feeling at this period. On reading many passages of it we might well, as Mr. Wright observes, suppose ourselves transported to the days of Wickliffe 'or Cromwell.' The number of the king's party, says the writer, far exceeded that of the barons; this was done by 'heaven, lest any one should boast of it; let all the honor be 'given to Christ, in whom we believe! For Christ at once 'commands, conquers, and reigns. We pray God that the 'minds of the conquerors may not attribute their success to 'themselves, and what Paul says, be observed by them. He that would be joyful, let him be joyful in God.' May the 'power of the Almighty perfect what it has begun, and restore to its vigor the kingdom of the English people, that glory may 'be to himself, and peace to his elect, until they be in that land ' whither He shall lead them.' Surely men who in first exultation of victory could write thus, could not have been the band of turbulent nobles and lawless commons which our historians have so frequently represented them to be. But the victory of Lewes was soon followed by the defeat at Evesham, and on the 4th of August, 1265, Simon de Montfort and his chief adherents laid down their lives for the 'good cause' of those days. We have no English ballad on this subject remaining, although doubtless there were many; but one in Anglo-Norman, in this volume, has every appearance of having been written on the first news of this disastrous contest, and the writer assures his hearers that it was 'all in tears' that he made this song concerning our gentle barons,' for Now is slain that precious flower who fought so valiantly, That by his death their great leader won the crown of martyrdom, and with his company had gone up in joy to everlasting life,' consoles the writer; and we learn from contemporary evidence, that not only was De Montfort celebrated as a martyr, but actually addressed as a saint. In a manuscript in the Cotton Library is an account of miracles believed to have been wrought by him; and while the wandering minstrel sang a lament for his death, the clergy who, adopted the popular feeling, hailed his triumphant entrance into heaven, and addressed him, 'Salve, Symon Montis fortis, And the spirit of this protector gentis Angliæ,' certainly survived his death; and in the pardons which the king was forced to grant, and the privileges which he was compelled to continue,―more especially the representation of the commons,prove that the principles of the Oxford provisions were triumphant, and that the barons conquered, although defeated and slain. The rule of Edward was stern; still he was a wise, and, what was of almost equal importance to a warlike age, he was a most valiant king. His wisdom prevented him from making violent inroads on the popular liberties, although that he was quite willing to do so, his contest with the earls of Norfolk and Hereford sufficiently proves, and his numerous victories over the Scots seem to have rendered him almost popular. The political songs of his reign are rather numerous; but it is remarkable that while the pride and oppression of the nobles, of the servants of the king's household, and of the dignified clergy, are bitterly noticed, scarcely a word derogatory to the king is to be found. The most violent of them is a song, written we should think by a churchman, as it is in French and Latin, on the king's expedition to Flanders, on which occasion a fifteenth was demanded from every householder, and there was a general seizure of wool to defray the expenses. It is not pleasant,' says the writer, thus to pay the fifteenth to the last penny. It is not sound 'law that gives my wool to the king,' and what is worse, after all, 'some say neither the king or the queen have it, but only 'the collectors-they ought to tax the great, and spare the 'people.' The leading grievances of so many generations, purveyors and their tallies, is prominently brought forward. If 'the king would take my advice,' he says, 'he would take his ' vessels of silver and make money of them; it would be better 'to eat out of wood, and pay with silver, than serve the body ' with silver and pay with wood.' 'Mien valdreit de fust manger, pro victu nummos dare, In the following song in English, on the insurrection of the Flemish burghers, we perceive how popular feeling went along with them; and in that on the times, the troubles endured by the poor from vexatious litigation, and the advantages obtained by the rich, through the same means, are naïvely set forth by the fable of the fox, the wolf, and the ass. Still, oppressed by taxes as the lower orders felt themselves, we yet find that the death of Edward was viewed by them as a national calamity: it is true that the character of his successor was such as to excite well grounded fears. There are two laments on King Edward's death, the English one manifestly a translation of the Anglo-Norman. We will give a verse both of the original and of the translation, as curious specimens of the two vernacular languages. Edward had vowed to revisit the Holy Land, hence the allusion in the text. Jerusalem, tu as perdu La flour de ta chivalerie, |