The victory was short-lived; but it had a result that will be ever memorable, for immediately after, De Montfort summoned a great council of the nation—the first in which we distinctly recognise the Parliament of England; for he not only called together the barons, prelates, and abbots, but also summoned two knights from each county, two citizens from each city, and two burgesses from each borough. Thus was the democratic element—the foundation of the House of Commons—first introduced; and, as the Poet Laureate sings, England became A land of settled government, A land of just and old renown, Where freedom slowly broadens down, From precedent to precedent. De Montfort was now in the fulness of his power; but his elevation was dangerous for himself. His natural and acquired superiority provoked the jealousy of those around him, and brought about his own destruction. As when the light is brightest, so the shadow is ever darkest, and his success was the ultimate cause of his downfall. The Parliament which sprang out of the turbulence of civil war assembled on the 26th January, 1265; and in the month of May following Prince Edward, thanks to the fleetness of his horse, having effected his escape from Hereford, where he had been in “free custody,” placed himself at the head of a numerous army, the loyal barons being speedily in arms. Gloucester, Monmouth, and Worcester, were successively taken; De Montfort’s son was defeated at Kenilworth; and then the victorious Royalists advanced to Evesham, to give battle to the father, who was posted there. The contest, which lasted until night, was marked with unusual ferocity; no quarter was asked or given; the Avon was crimsoned with the blood of the slain; and, to add to the horrors, while the dreadful carnage was going on, the air was darkened, and a storm such as England has rarely witnessed burst over the combatants. Drayton, in his “Polyolbion,” describes the horrors of that dreadful day— Shrill shouts, and deadly cries, each way the air do fill, And not a word was heard from either side but “kill!” The father ’gainst the son, the brother ’gainst the brother, With gleaves, swords, bills, and pikes were murdering one another. The full luxurious earth seems surfeited with blood, Whilst in his uncle’s gore th’ unnatural nephew stood; Whilst with their charged staves the desperate horsemen meet— They hear their kinsmen groan under their horses’ feet, Dead men and weapons broke do on the earth abound; The drums bedash’d with brains do give a dismal sound!