rule was a tendency to union. The aims of the Exeter patricians could not have been long reconciled with the aims of the sons of Harold, nor could the aims of either have been reconciled for a moment with the aims of the partizans of the Ætheling Eadgar, of the sons of Elfgar, or of the Danish Swegen. We sympathize with the defenders of Exeter, of York and Ely and Durham, but we feel that, from the moment when England lost the one man among her own sons who was fit to guide her, her best fate in the long run was to pass as an undivided kingdom into the hands of his victorious rival.

With the submission of Exeter to William, we might fairly end our tale of the place of Exeter in English history. It was now ruled for ever that the city by the Exe was to be an English city. It was to be no separate commonwealth, but a member of the undivided English kingdom, yet still a city that was to remain the undisputed head of its own district. Its history from this time, as far as I am concerned with it, is less the history of Exeter than the history of those events in English history which took place at Exeter. It still has its municipal, its ecclesiastical, its commercial history; it still had to strive for its rights against Earls and Countesses and Bishops; it still, in later days, could bear its share in the great sea-faring enterprises of commerce and discovery. But from the entry of William, Exeter has no longer a separate political being of its own. It is no longer an object to be striven for by men of contending nations. It is no longer something which might conceivably be cut off from the English realm, either by the success of a foreign conqueror or by the independence of its own citizens. In the other sense of the words, as pointing out those events of English history of which Exeter was the scene, the place of Exeter in English history is one which yields to that of no city in the land save London itself. It was with a true instinct that the two men who open the two great æras in local history, English

Æthelstan and Norman William, both gave such special heed to the military defences of the city. No city in England has stood more sieges. It stood one, perhaps two more, before William's own reign was ended, indeed before William had brought the Conquest of the whole land to an end by the taking of Chester. The men of Exeter had withstood William as long as he came before them as a foreign invader; when his power was once fully established, when the Castle on the Red Mount, reared by the stranger on the earthworks of earlier days, held down the city in fetters, they seem to have had no mood to join in hopeless insurrections against him. When, a year and a half after the great siege, the Castle was again besieged by the West-Saxon insurgents, the citizens seem to have joined the Norman garrison in resisting their attacks. According to one account, they had already done the like to the sons of Harold and their Irish auxiliaries. The wars of Stephen's reign did not pass without a siege of Exeter, in which King and citizens joined to besiege the rebellious Lord of Rougemont, and at last to starve him out within the towers which legend was already beginning to speak of as the work of the Cæsars. I pass on to later times; the Tudor æra saw two sieges of the city, one at the hands of a pretender to the Crown, another at the hands of the religious insurgents of the further West. Twice again in the wars of the next century do we find Exeter passing from one side to the other by dint of siege, and at last we see her receiving an invader at whose coming no siege was needed. The entry of William the Deliverer through the Western Gate forms the balance, the contrast, and yet in some sort the counterpart, to the entry of William the Conqueror through the Eastern Gate. The city had resisted to the utmost, when a foreign invader, under the guise of an English King, came to demand her obedience. But no eighteen days' siege, no blinded hostage, no undermined ramparts, were needed

when a kinsman and a deliverer came under the guise of a foreign invader. In the army of William of Normandy Englishmen were pressed to complete the Conquest of England; in the army of William of Orange strangers came to awake her sons to begin the work of her deliverance. In the person of the earlier William the Crown of England passed away for the first time to a King wholly alien in speech and feeling; in the later William it in truth came back to one who was, even in mere descent, and yet more fully in his native land and native speech, nearer than all that came between them to the old stock of Hengest and Cerdic. The one was the first King who reigned over England purely by the edge of the sword; the other was the last King who reigned over England purely by the choice of the nation. The coming of each of the men who entered Exeter in such opposite characters marks an æra in our history. And yet the work of the two was not wholly alien to each other. The later William came to undo the work of the earlier, so far as it was evil, to confirm it so far as it was good. With the one began the period of foreign domination which seemed to sweep away our ancient tongue and our ancient law. With the other began that period of internal progress, every step of which has been in truth a return to the old laws of England before the Norman set foot upon her shores. And yet, after all, William the Conqueror did but preserve what William the Deliverer came to restore.

His

Conquest ruled for ever that England should remain an undivided Kingdom, and, in so ruling, it ruled that the old laws and freedom, trampled on indeed but never trampled out, should live on to spring up again in newer forms. When the one William renewed the Laws of Eadward, it was but a link

in the same chain as when the other William gave his assent to the Bill of Rights. In the one case the invader came to conquer, in the other he came to deliver; but in both cases alike the effect of his coming was to preserve and not to destroy; the Conqueror and the Deliverer alike has had his share in working out the continuous being of English law and of English national life. The unwilling greeting which Exeter gave to the one William, the willing greeting which she gave to the other, marked the wide difference in the external aspect of the two revolutions. And yet both revolutions have worked for the same end; the great actors in both were, however unwittingly, fellow-workers fellow-workers in the same cause. And it is no small place in English history which belongs to the city whose name stands out in so marked a way in the tale alike of the revolution of the eleventh century and of the revolution of the seventeenth. It is no small matter, as we draw near by the western bridge or by the eastern isthmus, as we pass where once stood the Eastern and the Western Gate, as we tread the line of the ancient streets, to think that we are following the march of the Conqueror or of the Deliverer. It is no small matter, as we enter the minster of Leofric and Warelwast and Grandison, to think that on that spot Te Deum was sung alike for the overthrow of English freedom and for its recovery. It is no mean lesson if we learn to connect with the remembrance of this ancient city, among so many associations of British, Roman, and English days, two thoughts which rise above all the rest, the thought that there is no city in the land whose name marks a greater stage in the history of the Conquest of England, that there is none whose name marks a greater stage in the history of her deliverance.

EDWARD A. FREEMAN.

PART II.

THE romantic and poetical aspect of Petrarch's character has, for the most part, been alone considered by the generality of readers, but it should be remembered that he was actuated by two other powerful passions-the love of his country and the love of knowledge. With regard to the first, we are not aware of the extent of his political influence until we come to investigate his life. Five hundred years have rolled by since his active mind and eloquent tongue have been at rest from earthly labours; and yet the struggle between the temporal and the spiritual power of the Papal See, which so troubled his mind, has only ceased, if indeed it has ceased, within the last two years. The other struggle for the liberty and independence of his country, which was represented in his time by Rienzi, has been renewed century after century, in all the various phases through which Italy has passed, till quite recently, when, subsiding into quiet and apparent harmony, she has at last become" Italia una," very different from the "Italia mia" to whom Petrarch cried in vain "Pace, pace, pace."

It is a fact worthy of notice that the "seventy years' captivity," as it is called, during which the Papal See was established at Avignon, should have begun one year after the birth of Petrarch (1305), and, with the brief interval of Urban the Fifth's three years' sojourn No. 168.-VOL. XXVIII.

at Rome, should have ended just three years after the poet's death. Seven times the Papal chair at Avignon was destined to be filled in the lifetime of Petrarch. The first Avignonese Pope, Clement V., died in 1314; to him succeeded John XXII., and in the last year of his pontificate Petrarch thought his hopes were about to be realized, for

he announces in one of his sonnets that

"Burthened with holy keys and Papal robe, His steps CHRIST's earthly Vicar homeward turns." 1

But these hopes were extinguished by the death of this Pope in the following

year.

Petrarch, however, undaunted, at once addressed a Latin Epistle to his successor, Benedict XII., imploring him to return to Rome. But neither the description of her ancient glory nor of her present miserable condition could induce the Pope to return, although he rewarded the author of the learned Epistle by the gift of a canonry in Lombez; while, at the same time, he ordered a magnificent palace to be built for himself at Avignon. He was succeeded by Clement VI., and to him the Romans applied, as they had done to his predecessor, to restore the sacred seat to Rome. Petrarch, at that time in Rome, having just received the laurel crown, was among the ambassadors

1 Sonn. vi.:

"Il Vicario di Cristo con la soma

Delle chiavi e del manto al nido torna."

I I

chosen by the citizens to present their supplication, and the famous Cola da Rienzo was another member of the embassy. Both pleaded the cause of Rome with much eloquence before Clement VI. and Rienzo elaborately exposed the demands of the citizens:

1. That the Pope should assume the title and functions of Senator of Rome, in order to extinguish the civil wars kindled by the Roman barons.

2. That he should return to his pontifical chair on the banks of the Tiber.

3. That he should grant permission for the jubilee instituted by Boniface VIII.2 to be held every fifty years, and not at the end of a century.

Petrarch's eloquence was again rewarded by the gift of the priory of Migliarino, but he complains in his letters that he cannot induce the Pope even to wish to see Italy, although he conceded the point of the jubilee every fifty years. The poet gave vent to his indignation against the Papal Court in his letters "sine titulo," in which he unsparingly condemns, with a a courage worthy of Dante, the corruption of the clergy and times. The higher the clerical positions occupied, the more vehemence does he display in exposing and condemning the evil lives of those who held them. It was one of his most earnest desires to reform the discipline of the Church, although, like Dante and Savonarola, he had a firm belief in her doctrines. The system of Church government, which had been bad in Dante's time, became much worse, according to Petrarch, at Avignon, which he compares with the Assyrian Babylon for wickedness and corruption. Innocent VI., a French Pope, succeeded to Clement VI. He had no wish to leave his native country, and was deaf to Petrarch's entreaties. Moreover, he thought the

Italian poet a magician, because he could read Virgil!1

But when Urban V., the next Pope, wrote to offer him the canonry of Carpentras, Petrarch seized the opportunity in his reply to implore him to return to Rome, pointing out with severe frankness the manifold evils resulting from the position of the Papal Court at Avignon. This time his entreaties and remonstrances were not without effect, for at Easter in the following year (1368), the Pope, regardless of the complaints of the King of France and of his own Cardinals, who did not like to leave the rich palaces which they had built, left Avignon, and four months afterwards made a solemn entry into Rome. Petrarch hastened to express his joy in a letter of congratulation to Urban V., who invited him to come to Rome. Petrarch was, however, not allowed to see with his own eyes his darling wish accomplished, for, having set out on his journey, he fell ill and was obliged to return to Arqua. Shortly afterwards he received the further shock of hearing that the Pope, regardless of the warning of Santa Brigitta that he would die if he returned to Avignon, set off on his return to France, and expired immediately after his arrival at Avignon (1372).

Petrarch lived during only two years of the pontificate of the successor of Urban V. (Gregory XI.), not long enough to witness the end of the seventy years' captivity in 1377. In spite of his hardy remonstrances with the Papal Court, he was constantly offered, by the various Popes, offices of the highest importance, such as the post of Segretario Apostolico, which he refused five times.

It is true that he accepted four ecclesiastical preferments the canonry of Lombez, conferred upon him by Benedict XII. in 1335; the priory of St. Niccola di Migliarino, in 1342; the canonry of Coloreto in the church of Parma, in 1346, to which was joined the archidiaconate of that church in 1350; and the canonry of Padua, procured for him by Jacopo da Carrara, in 1349. But he steadily refused any cure of 1 Lettere Senili, L. 3.

souls. In one of his letters he observes: "I never would, nor will I ever, accept any prelacy, neither any cure of souls, however richly endowed the benefice. I have enough to do with the care of my own soul, if indeed, by God's mercy, I am able to suffice to that."

His political influence was not confined to the Popes only. As he shared Dante's views with respect to the Church, in like manner he entertained his opinions as to the Emperors of Germany. Distracted from one end to the other by civil wars between princes, none of whom were strong enough to keep the peace as arbiter-harassed by factions, desolated by brigandage, which was encouraged by the nobles, Petrarch saw no hope for the restoration of Italy except from without; and he echoes Dante's passionate cry of "O Alberto tedesco,' 1 in his appeals to Charles IV., Emperor of Germany, to descend into Italy. It was most strange that a private individual should have dared to make himself not only the counsellor but the admonisher and reprover of a powerful foreign sovereign.3 But the flame of patriotism so kindled the soul of Petrarch that he considered it a crime to remain silent.

"In the midst of the universal silence which prevailed," he says in his letter to Urban V., "my conscience urged me so strongly to appeal to the Emperor of Rome and advise his descent into Italy, that I felt I should be guilty of a crime if I remained silent." The reply of the Emperor, which is to be found verbatim in the letters already quoted (vol. ii. 83), justifies the conduct of Petrarch in writing to him. Far from being displeased, the Emperor expresses an earnest desire to know personally the "privilegiato abitator d' Elicona" who wrote to him, while the effect of Petrarch's re

monstrances and entreaties is to be seen in his descent into Italy in the year 1354. In reply to the joyful letter of congratulation addressed to him on this occasion by the poet, Charles IV. summoned him to meet him at Mantua. Petrarch was there eight days, and witnessed his negotiations with the Lords of the Lombard League, at whose head the Emperor was now placed. Charles was very desirous of taking Petrarch with him to Rome to witness his coronation; this, however, the poet firmly declined. But, alas the vanity of all earthly hopes, even when they seem to be realized! Petrarch's two chief projects for the restoration of his country -the return of the Popes to Rome and the descent of the Emperor of Germany into Italy-whereby he hoped to re-unite the old factions of Guelph and Ghibelline, were both accomplished only to be immediately undone. Just as Urban V. had fled back to Avignon, leaving Rome in a worse condition than he found it, so with Charles IV., who had solemnly sworn to the Pope that he would not sleep in Rome;1 no sooner was the ceremony of his coronation accomplished in that city, than he hastened to leave it and Italy, upon which he shortly afterwards intended to make war. Petrarch was employed as an ambassador by Galeazzo Visconti, to turn the Emperor from his purpose, and went to Nuremburg to seek him. The Emperor reassured the ambassador by saying that the affairs of Germany were too pressing to admit of his making war upon Italy. Afterwards, in 1357, he invested the poet with the dignity of Count Palatine in its full glory, with all its rights and privileges. It is also on record that he presented him with a golden cup.

Such, then, was Petrarch's influence over the two great powers of the world at that time-the Pope and the Emperor -the "two Suns," as Dante calls them, "whose several beams cast light on either the world's and God's." way, 1 Historical fact.

2 Purg. xvi.:

"Duo Soli che l' une e l'altra strada facean

veder del mondo e di Dio."