Arthur of Bretagne, in whose defence the sword of warfare had been drawn against the usurper John, by Philip and the powers of France. The armies had met, the fate of the young Arthur depended in a great degree on the issue of the battle; but an issue, like this described by Salisbury, was last of all to have been expected, and the widowed Constance beheld the downfal of her hopes with anguish and dismay. Salisbury, though he had not the power of rendering her any assistance, sincerely sympathized in her grief, and his expressive countenance plainly bespoke the sorrow of his heart: the purport of his errand was to require her return with him to the King, who now seated in council demanded-her presence.

Constance, not in any wise brooking command, and disgusted at the perfidy of the French King, would not accompany Salisbury; but cast herself pon her knees, and clasping her lovely boy, implored the aid of Heaven, the only hope on which she could depend: and Salisbury was compelled to

and the Queen Dowager, of unwarrantable ambition and an ungovernable spirit; yet in secret they admitted the justice of her claims, and Eleanor frequently reminded her son, that he held his kingdom upon a frail tenure. The wrongs of Constance were numerous; and she, whose life had been marked by misfortune, had but too much cause to exert her spirit. Deprived of every prospect of domestic happiness in the untimely fate of her husband Geoffrey, third son of Henry II. who, by the secret order of his father, was trampled to death at a tournament in Paris, her whole soul was now devoted to her young son, whose tenderness and sweet disposition rendered him almost an object of idolatry. By the deaths of his grandfather and his uncles Henry and Richard, he became in right of his father the immediate heir of the English throne; and Constance had the agony of beholding this adored child robbed of his birthright, by the usurpation of his uncle John, Henry's youngest son, who had claimed the crown in right of his brother's will, Richard having bequeathed it to him

Constance had nothing to hope from the justice or honour of her powerful adversaries: no touch of virtue could be said to possess the bosoms of the vindictive Eleanor or her ambitious son; they had already trod the paths of guilt and cruelty, and trodden them without compunction. The pitiless Eleanor had doomed to death her husband's mistress, the unfortunate and beautiful Rosamond Clifford; had administered the cup herself, and gazed with malignant joy upon the unhappy victim of love and jealousy, while struggling in her last expiring agonies she had instigated the sons of Henry to rebel against him, and excited the various powers of Europe to aid her in her unjustifiable pretensions against the throne and life of her husband and the father of her children; what, therefore, could be

hoped from such a woman? Then from her son even less could be expected; for he had the buoyancy of youth to strengthen his ambition, being only thirtythree years of age when he usurped the throne of England; he also had given many proofs of an ungrateful and worthless disposition. The favourite son of

his father, and possessing his most unlimited confidence and affection, he had joined in the rebellion of his brother Richard against that father, whose grief at the apostacy of this his most dearly loved child, destroyed his health, and eventually occasioned his death he had afterwards, with equal cruelty, used his utmost influence to prolong the captivity of that brother; who, on his return from the holy wars, was taken prisoner by Leopold, Duke of Austria, and unjustly detained by the Emperor of Germany for upwards of twelve months! Could it then be supposed that a man thus insensible to the claims of nature, towards a tender father and a generous brother would feel any touch of pity for a nephew, or experience compunction in depriving that powerless unprotected orphan of his hereditary possessions.

Constance saw the horrors of her situation, and the dangers by which she was surrounded; yet to behold her boy thus basely deprived of his inheritance, roused her milder spirit to an almost manly vigour, and she resolved to dispute John's claim to the crown. For this purpose she repaired with her son to France, and solicited the aid of Philip and Lewis, the Dauphin, who, feeling and admitting the justice of her claims, promised, together with the Archduke of Austria, to espouse her cause, and never to give up the contest until Prince Arthur should be placed upon the throne of his ancestors.

The Lord Chatillion was forthwith despatched to England to demand from King John a restitution of the usurped rights of Arthur, which, if denied, was

John,

to be followed with immediate hostilities. who stood prepared to answer all demands, and was well aware that such demands were to be expected, received and returned the defiance of the French king, and despatched Lord Chatillion, bidding him to be

-as lightning in the eyes of France;

For ere thou canst report i will be there,
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard.

John was true to his word; prepared for this defiance, he had put himself in readiness, and little now remained to be done but to collect his forces together and instantly set forth. While the council were sitting in debate, a strange controversy came from the country to be judged by the king; the claimants were admitted, and threw themselves at the foot of the throne: one was a poor looking creature, thin,

meagre, swarthy, deformed, and ugly; the other a fine, handsome, bold, high-spirited youth; they were brothers, and sons of Sir Robert Faulconbridge of Northamptonshire, who being now deceased, each of his sons demanded to be his heir, and quarrelled for the possession of his land. Philip, the bold and hand

some, claimed the property of his father as his firstborn son; Robert, the thin and meagre, claimed in right of his father's will, who had disclaimed Philip as his son, he having been born within six months after Sir Robert's return from Germany, where he had been sent on an embassy by Richard Coeur-de-lion, who during his absence had sojourned at his house. This curious contest was maintained with vigour on either side; and the wit, spirit, and manly beauty of Philip, together with his powerful resemblance to her son Richard, caught the attention and conciliated the favour of the queen mother, who begged him to relinquish the name and title of his reputed father, and trust his fortunes to her advancement; an offer he willingly accepted, giving up the land to Robert, who went away well pleased at his victory; while his bold aspiring brother exulted in the honours bestowed upon him, was knighted by John under the title of Richard Coeur-de-lion, and received an appointment of high importance in the approaching war.

Lord Chatillion had scarcely arrived before the walls of Angiers, where the French army were assembled, ere the sound of trumpets announced the approach of King John. The point of immediate contest was possession of the city of Angiers, which was subject to England, but the citizens positively refused to open their gates till it was proved who was the rightful king of England; a point which was now doubtful, since John claimed it in his own person, while Philip demanded it in right of Prince Arthur.

Threats, persuasions, or entreaties were alike ineffectual; the citizens of Angiers were firm and undaunted. Preparations were made for battle; the armies met, equally poised in valour and in skill. Though numbers were slain in the contest, neither were victorious: and they mutually agreed to cease hostilities for a time, again demanding entrance