kingdom had already been wasted by war, and despoiled by dismissed mercenary soldiers, and now there were heavy ransoms to pay for the captive lords, and the wretched peasantry rose in mad and savage revolt, their war-cry being-death to gentlemen. No words can describe the horrors of the Jacquerie, as this insurrection was called. Soon after it was put down, the treaty of Bretigny for a while stopped the struggle between England and France, Edward renouncing his pretensions to the French throne, and receiving his French territories in full sovereignty. King John was set at liberty, and went home on promising to pay a large ransom, but finding it impossible to raise the money from his impoverished subjects, he returned to captivity, feeling it far better to be a prisoner and keep his honour clear, than to be guilty of broken faith and live in freedom.

Yet before Edward died he saw himself stripped of most of the places which he had added to his possessions in France, for the war was renewed in the latter part of his reign, when the health of the Black Prince was fast failing, and the French recovered many of their recent losses.

When Henry V., a young and very able prince, was on the throne of England, and when Fránce was again a distracted and divided kingdom, under an imbecile monarch, the shadowy claim advanced by Edward III. was once more put forth, and Henry resolved to enforce it with the sword. In August, 1415, he landed his troops near Harfleur, and besieged the town, which surrendered at the end of thirty-six days; but a heavy price was paid for it by the English, for their ranks were terribly thinned by disease during those few weeks. With an army reduced to about 9000 men, Henry set out for Calais, having issued an order to his soldiers "that no one, under pain of death should burn, lay waste, or take anything, excepting victuals and necessaries."

Towards the end of October he came in sight of the French, about half a mile off on the other side of a valley,

looking like "an innumerable host of locusts," about ten times the number of the English. The fight began near noon of the next day. Again it was the English archers whose well-aimed arrows threw into disorder the proud array of French horsemen, who fought valiantly, as was their wont, but in vain. Their very numbers only increased the confusion, and the most frightful slaughter followed, till the dead were piled in heaps several feet high. But the horrors of that marvellous victory at Agincourt were not yet over. A rumour that a fresh body of the enemy was advancing, caused Henry to give the dreadful order that the crowds of prisoners should be slain. The command was recalled when the report was disproved, but too late to save most of the captives.

In 1420, a treaty was signed at Troyes, which conceded all that the ambitious English monarch had striven for. It was arranged that he should marry the Princess Katherine, and govern as regent during the life-time of her poor, incapable father, Charles VI., on whose death the French crown was to devolve to Henry and his heirs for ever. But it was a brief for ever. Only two years more, and in the pride of his youth and triumph Henry V. died, deeply regretted by his people, going to his grave just two months before the unfortunate Charles.

Immediately there were two kings proclaimed in France, Charles' son, the Dauphin, and the infant Henry VI., whose distinguished uncle, the Duke of Bedford, was appointed regent. For seven years there was frequent fighting, in which Bedford mostly had the advantage, notably in 1424, at the great victory of Verneuil. By this time, the country north of the Loire was like a desert, where wolves roamed unhindered through the fields. But in the darkest hour of France her deliverer came. This was Joan of Arc, the Maid of Orleans, whose career shows like a streak of light on the turbid sea of the French politics of that day.

A beautiful peasant girl, she had fulfilled her lowly village duties from day to day, only marked out from

others by her goodness and thoughtfulness. Yet as "none but great hearts know how much glory there is in being good," it may be that to those who judge aright she was as worthy of admiration then as when all France hailed in her the rescuer of her native land.

Dwelling deeply on her people's woes amidst her household work, or the thick forests of the Vosges, she thought that heavenly voices spoke to her, bidding her go forth and save her country. Others entered into her enthusiasm, and at last the Dauphin gave her means to try her powers. The Maid on her white horse inspirited the French with a new life, and struck a superstitious terror into the hearts of the English; whom she quickly compelled to raise the siege of Orleans, after they had lain before the city for months. At last she saw the Dauphin crowned as Charles VII. in the cathedral at Rheims, as she had foretold. This was the completion of the work to which she deemed herself called; and there, among the noblest of the land, stood the peasant girl in her meek triumph.

"That slight form!

Was that the leader through the battle storm?
Had the soft light in that adoring eye

Guided the warrior where the swords flashed high?”

Then she felt her mission was accomplished, and begged hard to go home, but they would not let her do so, and before long she was captured by the English, who accused her, in the fashion of those days, of being a sorceress, and finally the heroic maiden was burnt to death at Rouen, with the name of "Jesus" on her lips, while even her enemies wept at the sight. We may take what comfort we can in the fact, that some of the conspicuous actors in this hideous tragedy were French

men.

The fortune of the English never rallied again in France. Bedford and Talbot died, and by 1453, Calais alone remained to England, the sole trophy of a contest in which seas of blood had been shed, and heaps of trea

sure spent. But though we should be right in utterly condemning such wars now, and in calling the ruler whose chief aim was conquest a curse to the world, it would not be just so to judge the ambition and the victories of the Plantagenets. In their days, the profession of arms was thought almost the only one fit for a gentleman, and military glory was esteemed the worthiest object of life, for the natural condition of Europe was one of warfare.

These terrible French wars were not barren of all result for England. They showed her people their strength, and united them by a common pride in their national existence. Thenceforth, there was little talk abroad of conquering England. They helped, too, to raise the lower orders of society, for it was not knights and gentlemen, but the archers with their long-bows, who had done most to win those victories. It has been said that—"The English twice conquered France with a handful of yeomen."

Henry the Eighth's short war with France has been remarked as the first on behalf of "the balance of power" in Europe. When Mary's dreary life and drearier reign were almost over, she was persuaded by her husband, Philip II. of. Spain, to join him in hostilities against the French, to whom in January, 1558, Calais surrendered, after a siege of eight days, and the mortification in England was extreme. From that time forward, England has not permanently held a rood of French territory—a fact which is at least as great a boon to us as to them.

Questions.-Who was the Black Prince? What part did he take in the French wars? When was the Battle of Agincourt fought, and with what results? Who was the Maid of Orleans? What was the result of the French wars? Was this an advantage or disadvantage to England, and why?

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THE WARS OF THE ROSES.

To understand the struggle between the Red and White Roses, we must go back to 1399, when Richard II. was deposed, and the crown settled by parliament on Henry IV. They were both Plantagenets, both equally descended from Henry II., but Richard being the son of the Black Prince, who was Edward the Third's eldest child, was the nearest heir to the throne.

His deposition only would not have caused difficulty, because as he left no children, the crown could not go in the direct line; but if he had been king when he died, his rights would have passed to the family of the Duke of Clarence, second son of Edward III., not to Henry IV., who was descended from John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the third son. In truth, Henry had no hereditary claim whatever, though he had a sufficient title in the decision of parliament, confirmed by the undisputed accession of his son and grandson, and the actual possession of the crown by his line for sixty years before it was called in question.

But in that age the sword was the chief arbiter in such matters; and the weakness of Henry VI. and the haughtiness of his imperious wife, Margaret of Anjou, led the nation to look with favour on Richard, Duke of York, who, through his mother, was the representative of the Duke of Clarence, and would succeed to the throne if Henry died childless. But the birth of a prince, in 1453, totally altered the position of York, who, two years later was appointed protector of the realm, on the ground of Henry's mental incapacity.

In a few months the king recovered, and then Margaret tried in his name to assume royal power. This was very distasteful to a large number of Englishmen, who exceedingly disliked the idea of her acting as sovereign. This jealousy of her turned attention yet