Ade the goldsmith was all that was necessary, and, in the spirit of the old Welsh law which enacted that the sovereign should, without grumbling, pay the debts of the etheling, Edward Longshanks settled the accounts of Edward of Caernarvon.

The latter, about this time, began to show that if he had not read history, yet was he not entirely ignorant of what it taught. He appears to have especially remembered the rights and privileges of the British ethelings, heirs to the sovereignty of Wales. Among other laws regarding the princes of this rank, it was enacted that the heir-apparent should be held in the greatest honour, after the King and Queen; that at table he should have the chief guest of the day on one side of him, to awaken his interest by stories of travel, and the chief falconer on the other, to amuse him with incidents of sport. At the fire, he had a right to one corner, opposite to that occupied by the sovereign; and if a solemn judge was placed next to him to fill him with judicial wisdom, he had behind him the Chief of the Bards, whom he could call upon for a song, when weary of the process of being filled with wisdom. There were even higher privileges than these enjoyed by the Princes of Wales before the Saxon era. It was the duty of their royal father (as I have before recorded) to pay all their expenses ungrudgingly; and never to grumble at any extravagance of banquet or amount of good liquor called for by the Prince and the companions who officially attended him. The servants of his very household were not paid for out of the Prince's privy purse, but out of that of his much-suffering and dutiful sire. The horses of his stud, his carfach or war-charger, not excepted, were provided after the same agreeable fashion; and the

only curb, or seeming curb, placed upon the Prince himself, was to be found in the regulation laid down, to the effect that the Prince was never to make a night of it out of the palace-unless he chose to do so! While he was away, his gentleman-woodman looked to the maintaining of a good fire in his bedroom; and when his royal highness returned, the same official put on another faggot or two, and carefully closed the door, in order to keep out the thieves, the wind, and the wolves.

The most pleasant portion of these old laws, young Edward seemed to think were still in force; for he soon took to himself false friends, fell into evil ways, and quarrelled with his sire, who was roused to anger by his son's lack of obedience and his astounding extravagance.

While yet a boy, the Prince's manners were marked by some rudeness, which was afterwards cited as a proof that the Prince was not the son of King Edward. When John the Tanner, after the death of Edward Longshanks, proclaimed himself as heir to the throne-and Edward of Caernarvon as an impostor-he partly supported the latter assertion by alluding to the churl-like want of grace and culture in the so-called Prince. But if young Edward possessed neither the grace nor talent of his sire, neither was he torn by the violent temper to which his father too readily gave way. One instance of this occurred about the middle of January, 1297, at a mixed, gay, and unpleasant scene at Ipswich, where the King kept court, and the Prince's sister, Isabella (or Elizabeth), married the Earl of Holland. The scene, in some respects, was one of much joyousness; and "Maud Makejoy" earned two shillings by dancing a lively measure for the express gratification, and in presence of "the eldest son of the King," in the great

hall at Ipswich. Minstrels and fiddlers, or vidulatores, were remunerated at above twenty times that rate, which seems warrant of their excellence; and official services rendered to the bride were paid by costly fees.

This was the most unseemly day for a father to fall out with the bride-that bride being his daughter-but at some cause of offence not now known, the excitable Longshanks snatched the coronet from the bride's head, and "the King's Grace," as the Wardrobe Book records, "was pleased to throw it behind the fire." The loss to the coronet was a large ruby and an emerald, which the King had to supply when his wrath had subsided.

The Prince had only just entered his "teens," in that same year, 1297, when he was present at a ceremony, which should have been rich to him in lessons of wisdom, had he but known how to learn and to apply them. His father, to provide for the expenses of his wars in Wales, Scotland, and France, had almost crushed every class of his subjects beneath an unparalleled burden of taxation. When all were equally oppressed, there was some chance of relief for the poorer as well as for the richer classes, and the cry of the former was heard as a of anguish by the latter, now that it happened to be their interest to listen to it.

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On a new royal order, issued in the year above named, for an increase to taxes already insupportable, and decreed in order to enable Edward to carry on a foreign war, there arose an universal outcry of indignation. The nobles, the clergy, and the people, all shamefully plundered, lost all restraint of speech at this new trial of their patient loyalty. The officers appointed to enforce the levy declined to carry out their instructions;

and Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, and Bohun, Earl of Hereford, incited the citizens to disobedience, and encouraged them in their opposition. When this opposition had assumed a menacing aspect, Edward condescended to meet his people, and, by this acknowledgment of the force of public opinion, to confess that he owed them at least the explanation of a course of conduct which they bitterly denounced. A platform was erected in front of Westminster Hall, on which appeared the King and Prince Edward, with the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Earl of Warwick. The Prince appeared there, because he had recently been appointed regent or guardian of the kingdom in his father's absence-a nominal appointment which was in reality exercised by the most celebrated prelates and lawyers, who were the Lords of a Council of Regency.

While Prince Edward stood silently near his father's side, the King addressed the highly-interested multitude before him, and by crafty words, and a display of sentimental no - meaning,-by representations of the perils of the country, of the blood-thirstiness of its enemies at home and abroad, of the sacrifice which he was about to make of his own life, if necessary, and of his love for his son, the Prince, for whom he besought their allegiance, should he himself perish in the field, he so wrought upon their feelings that the honesthearted audience, forgetting altogether the question of taxes, burst, some into shouts, and some into tears, and dispersed, commenting the while on the noble spirit of the King, and the willing duty they owed to that princely boy at his side.

With that boy Edward withdrew, silent and rejoicing;

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and, taking his sympathizing people in their humour, he left an order, as he departed from London for Winchelsea, where he embarked on his foreign expedition, for an immediate levy of the newly-increased tax.

The people at once swept all sympathy for the King and affection for the Prince out of their hearts; and, finding themselves deluded, they assumed an attitude of resolute resistance. Young Edward was then sojourning at Tonbridge Castle, but he was brought up to London by the Lords of the Council in order to appease, if possible, the outraged citizens. The latter may be said to have held the young guardian of the realm in their keeping, but they confined themselves to one object, to the accomplishment of which they were manfully helped by the nobles and clergy. That object was their exemption from all taxation, save by their own consent, given by themselves or their representatives. Nothing less would satisfy them, and, despite all open opposition and subterfuge, they gained their great and good object. Prince Edward was entirely under the guidance of Chancellor Langton, to whom, at Tonbridge Castle, he had recently presented a new Great Seal, in place of that which the King had taken with him beyond the Channel.

By the Parliament presided over by Langton, it was enacted that, in future "no tax henceforth be levied or laid by us (the King) or our heirs, in this our realm without the good will and common assent of the archbishops, bishops, and other prelates, the earls, barons, knights, burgesses, and other freemen of our realm." The Act, of which the very pith and marrow are contained in