er design was to overthrow the favourites' power, and the King's power,
such as it was, and invade England. Having obtained a French force of
two thousand men, and being joined by all the English exiles then in
France, she landed, within a year, at Orewell, in Suffolk, where she was
immediately joined by the Earls of Kent and Norfolk, the King's two
brothers; by other powerful noblemen; and lastly, by the first English
general who was despatched to check her: who went over to her with all
his men. The people of London, receiving these tidings, would do nothing
for the King, but broke open the Tower, let out all his prisoners, and
threw up their caps and hurrahed for the beautiful Queen.
The King, with his two favourites, fled to Bristol, where he left old
Despenser in charge of the town and castle, while he went on with the son
to Wales. The Bristol men being opposed to the King, and it being
impossible to hold the town with enemies everywhere within the walls,
Despenser yielded it up on the third day, and was instantly brought to
trial for having traitorously influenced what was called 'the King's
mind'--though I doubt if the King ever had any. He was a venerable old
man, upwards of ninety years of age, but his age gained no respect or
mercy. He was hanged, torn open while he was yet alive, cut up into
pieces, and thrown to the dogs. His son was soon taken, tried at
Hereford before the same judge on a long series of foolish charges, found
guilty, and hanged upon a gallows fifty feet high, with a chaplet of
nettles round his head. His poor old father and he were innocent enough
of any worse crimes than the crime of having been friends of a King, on
whom, as a mere man, they would never have deigned to cast a favourable
look. It is a bad crime, I know, and leads to worse; but, many lords and
gentlemen--I even think some ladies, too, if I recollect right--have
committed it in England, who have neither been given to the dogs, nor
hanged up fifty feet high.
The wretched King was running here and there, all this time, and never
getting anywhere in particular, until he gave himself up, and was taken
off to Kenilworth Castle. When he was safely lodged there, the Queen
went to London and met the Parliament. And the Bishop of Hereford, who
was the most skilful of her friends, said, What was to be done now? Here
was an imbecile, indolent, miserable King upon the throne; wouldn't it be
better to take him off, and put
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