Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1
by James Endell Tyler · English · Gutenberg #20488 · 729,743 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1
Author: James Endell Tyler
Release date: January 31, 2007 [eBook #20488]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20488
Credits: Produced by Christine P. Travers and the Online Distributed
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HENRY OF MONMOUTH, VOLUME 1 ***
Produced by Christine P. Travers and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected.
The original spelling has been retained.
Printer's error corrected:
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- Page 27: applition to application.
- Page 42: chace to chase.
- Page 80: ' changes to ".
Definition:
- Dº: Ditto.]
[Illustration: Henri of Monmouth]
HENRY OF MONMOUTH:
OR,
MEMOIRS
OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF
HENRY THE FIFTH,
AS
PRINCE OF WALES AND KING OF ENGLAND.
BY J. ENDELL TYLER, B.D.
RECTOR OF ST. GILES IN THE FIELDS.
"Go, call up Cheshire and Lancashire,
And Derby hills, that are so free;
But neither married man, nor widow's son;
No widow's curse shall go with me."
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
1838.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,
Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
TO HER MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY THE QUEEN. (p. iii)
MADAM,
The gracious intimation of your Royal pleasure that these Memoirs of
your renowned Predecessor should be dedicated to your Majesty, while
it increases my solicitude, suggests at the same time new and cheering
anticipations. I cannot but hope that, appearing in the world under
the auspices of your great name, the religious and moral purposes
which this work is designed to serve will be more widely and
effectually realised.
* * * * *
Under a lively sense of the literary defects which render these
volumes unworthy of so august a patronage, to one point I may revert
with feelings of satisfaction and encouragement. I have gone only (p. iv)
where Truth seemed to lead me on the way: and this, in your Majesty's
judgment, I am assured will compensate for many imperfections.
* * * * *
That your Majesty may ever abundantly enjoy the riches of HIS favour
who is the Spirit of Truth, and having long worn your diadem here in
honour and peace, in the midst of an affectionate and happy people,
may resign it in exchange for an eternal crown in heaven, is the
prayer of one who rejoices in the privilege of numbering himself,
Madam,
Among your Majesty's
Most faithful and devoted
Subjects and servants.
J. ENDELL TYLER.
24, Bedford Square,
May 24, 1838.
PREFACE. (p. v)
Memoirs such as these of Henry of Monmouth might doubtless be made
more attractive and entertaining were their Author to supply the
deficiencies of authentic records by the inventions of his fancy, and
adorn the result of careful inquiry into matters of fact by the
descriptive imagery and colourings of fiction. To a writer, also, who
could at once handle the pen of the biographer and of the poet, few
names would offer a more ample field for the excursive range of
historical romance than the life of Henry of Monmouth. From the day of
his first compulsory visit to Ireland, abounding as that time does
with deeply interesting incidents, to his last hour in the now-ruined
castle of Vincennes;--or rather, from his mother's espousals to the
interment of his earthly remains within the sacred precincts of
Westminster, every period teems with animating suggestions. So far,
however, from possessing such adventitious recommendations, the point
on which (rather perhaps than any other) an apology might be expected
for this work, is, that it has freely tested by the standard of (p. vi)
truth those delineations of Henry's character which have contributed
to immortalize our great historical dramatist. The Author, indeed, is
willing to confess that he would gladly have withdrawn from the task
of assaying the substantial accuracy and soundness of Shakspeare's
historical and biographical views, could he have done so safely and
without a compromise of principle. He would have avoided such an
inquiry, not only in deference to the acknowledged rule which does not
suffer a poet to be fettered by the rigid shackles of unbending facts;
but from a disinclination also to interfere, even in appearance, with
the full and free enjoyment of those exquisite scenes of humour, wit,
and nature, in which Henry is the hero, and his "riotous, reckless
companions" are subordinate in dramatical excellence only to himself.
The Author may also not unwillingly grant, that (with the majority of
those who give a tone to the "form and pressure" of the age)
Shakspeare has done more to invest the character of Henry with a
never-dying interest beyond the lot of ordinary monarchs, than the
bare records of historical verity could ever have effected. Still he
feels that he had no alternative. He must either have ascertained the
historical worth of those scenic representations, or have suffered to
remain in their full force the deep and prevalent impressions, as to
Henry's principles and conduct, which owe, if not their origin, yet,
at least, much of their universality and vividness, to Shakspeare. (p. vii)
The poet is dear, and our early associations are dear; and pleasures
often tasted without satiety are dear: but to every rightly balanced
mind Truth will be dearer than all.
* * * * *
It must nevertheless be here intimated, that these volumes are neither
exclusively, nor yet especially, designed for the antiquarian student.
The Author has indeed sought for genuine information at every
fountain-head accessible to him; but he has prepared the result of his
researches for the use (he would trust, for the improvement as well as
the gratification,) of the general reader. And whilst he has not
consciously omitted any essential reference, he has guarded against
interrupting the course of his narrative by an unnecessary accumulation
of authorities. He is, however, compelled to confess that he rises
from this very limited sphere of inquiry under an impression, which
grew stronger and deeper as his work advanced, that, before a history
of our country can be produced worthy of a place among the records of
mankind, the still hidden treasures of the metropolis and of our
universities, together with the stores which are known to exist in
foreign libraries, must be studied with far more of devoted care and
zealous perseverance than have hitherto been bestowed upon them. That
the honest and able student, however unwearied in zeal and industry,
may be supplied with the indispensable means of verifying what (p. viii)
tradition has delivered down, enucleating difficulties, rectifying
mistakes, reconciling apparent inconsistencies, clearing up doubts,
and removing that mass of confusion and error under which the truth
often now lies buried,--our national history must be made a subject of
national interest. It is a maxim of our law, and the constant practice
of our courts of justice, never to admit evidence unless it be the
best which under the circumstances can be obtained. Were this principle
of jurisprudence recognised and adopted in historical criticism, the
student would carefully ascend to the first witnesses of every period,
on whom modern writers (however eloquent or sagacious) must depend for
their information. How lamentably devoid of authority and credit is
the work of the most popular and celebrated of our modern English
historians in consequence of his unhappy neglect of this fundamental
principle, will be made palpably evident by the instances which could
not be left unnoticed even within the narrow range of these Memoirs.
And the Author is generally persuaded that, without a far more
comprehensive and intimate acquaintance with original documents than
our writers have possessed, or apparently have thought it their duty
to cultivate, error will continue to be propagated as heretofore; and
our annals will abound with surmises and misrepresentations, instead
of being the guardian depositories of historical verity. Only by the
acknowledgment and application of the principle here advocated will (p. ix)
England be supplied with those monuments of our race, those
"POSSESSIONS FOR EVER," as the Prince of Historians[1] once named
them, which may instruct the world in the philosophy of moral cause
and effect, exhibit honestly and clearly the natural workings of the
human heart, and diffuse through the mass of our fellow-creatures a
practical assurance that piety, justice, and charity form the only
sure groundwork of a people's glory and happiness; while religious and
moral depravity in a nation, no less than in an individual, leads,
(tardily it may be and remotely, but by ultimate and inevitable
consequence,) to failure and degradation.
[Footnote 1: Thucydides.]
In those portions of his work which have a more immediate bearing upon
religious principles and conduct, the Author has not adopted the most
exciting mode of discussing the various subjects which have naturally
fallen under his review. Party spirit, though it seldom fails to
engender a more absorbing interest for the time, and often clothes a
subject with an importance not its own, will find in these pages no
response to its sentiments, under whatever character it may give
utterance to them. In these departments of his inquiry, to himself far
the most interesting, (and many such there are, especially in the
second volume,) the Author trusts that he has been guided by the
Apostolical maxim of "SPEAKING THE TRUTH IN LOVE." He has not
willingly advanced a single sentiment which should unnecessarily (p. x)
cause pain to any individual or to any class of men; he has not been
tempted by morbid delicacy or fear to suppress or disguise his view of
the very TRUTH.
The reader will readily perceive that, with reference to the foreign
and domestic policy of our country,--the advances of civilization,--the
manners of private life, as well in the higher as in the more
humble grades of society,--the state of literature,--the progress of
the English constitution,--the condition and discipline of the army,
which Henry greatly improved,--and the rise and progress of the royal
navy, of which he was virtually the founder, many topics are either
purposely avoided, or only incidentally and cursorily noticed. To one
point especially (a subject in itself most animating and uplifting,
and intimately interwoven with the period embraced by these Memoirs,)
he would have rejoiced to devote a far greater portion of his book,
had it been compatible with the immediate design of his
undertaking;--THE PROMISE AND THE DAWN OF THE REFORMATION.
* * * * *
However the value of his labours may be ultimately appreciated, the
Author confidently trusts that their publication can do no disservice
to the cause of truth, of sound morality, and of pure religion. He
would hope, indeed, that in one point at least the power of an (p. xi)
example of pernicious tendency might be weakened by the issue of his
investigation. If the results of these inquiries be acquiesced in as
sound and just, no young man can be encouraged by Henry's example (as
it is feared many, especially in the higher classes, have been
encouraged,) in early habits of moral delinquency, with the intention
of extricating himself in time from the dominion of his passions, and
of becoming, like Henry, in after-life a pattern of religion and
virtue, "the mirror of every grace and excellence." The divine, the
moralist, and the historian know that authenticated instances of such
sudden moral revolutions in character are very rare,--exceptions to
the general rule; and among those exceptions we cannot be justified in
numbering Henry of Monmouth.
He was bold and merciful and kind, but he was no libertine, in his
youth; he was brave and generous and just, but he was no persecutor,
in his manhood. On the throne he upheld the royal authority with
mingled energy and mildness, and he approved himself to his subjects
as a wise and beneficent King; in his private individual capacity he
was a bountiful and considerate, though strict and firm master, a warm
and sincere friend, a faithful and loving husband. He passed through
life under the habitual sense of an overruling Providence; and, in his
premature death, he left us the example of a Christian's patient and
pious resignation to the Divine Will. As long as he lived, he was (p. xii)
an object of the most ardent and enthusiastic admiration, confidence,
and love; and, whilst the English monarchy shall remain among the
unforgotten things on earth, his memory will be honoured, and his name
will be enrolled among the NOBLE and the GOOD.
TABLE OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS, (p. xiii)
IN THEIR CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.
[*] Those years, months, or days, respectively, to which an
asterisk is attached, are not considered to have been so fully
ascertained as the other dates.
1340* Feb.* John of Gaunt born.
1340} Earl of Northumberland, Hotspur's father, born,
1341} before Nov. 19, 1341.
1359 May 19, John of Gaunt married to Blanche.
1358} Owyn Glyndowr born, before Sept. 3, 1359.
1359}
1366 April 6, Henry Bolinbroke born.
1365} May 20,* Henry Percy (Hotspur) born before 30th Oct. 1366.
1366}
1367 Jan. Richard II. born at Bourdeaux.
1369* Blanche, wife of John of Gaunt died.
1371* John of Gaunt married Constance.
1376 June 8, Edward the Black Prince died.
1377 June 21, King Edward III. died.
1378 Nov. Hotspur first bore arms at Berwick.
1381 Bolinbroke nearly slain by the rioters.
1382 Richard II. married to Queen Anne.
1384 Dec. 31, Wickliffe's death.
1386* Bolinbroke married Mary Bohun.
1387 John of Gaunt went to Spain.
1387* Aug. 9,* HENRY born at MONMOUTH.
1388 Hotspur taken prisoner by the Scots.
1388 Thomas Duke of Clarence born.
1389 Nov. 9, Isabel, Richard II.'s wife, born.
1389* Nov.* John of Gaunt returned from Spain. (p. xiv)
1389* John Duke of Bedford born.
1390* Humfrey Duke of Gloucester born.
1390} Bolinbroke visited Barbary.
1391}
1392} Bolinbroke visited Prussia and the Holy Sepulchre.
1393}
1394* Mary, HENRY's mother, died.
1394* Constance, John of Gaunt's wife, died.
1394 June 7, Anne, Richard II.'s Queen, died.
1396 John of Gaunt recalled from Acquitaine by Richard II.
1396 John of Gaunt married Katharine Swynford.
1397 Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury, banished.
1397 Sept. 29, Bolinbroke created Duke of Hereford.
1397* John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, banished.
1397 Nov. 4, Richard II. married to Isabel.
1398* Henry of Monmouth resided in Oxford.
1398 July 14, Henry Beaufort consecrated Bishop of Lincoln.
1398 Sept. 16, Bolinbroke and Norfolk at Coventry.
1398 Bolinbroke banished.
1399 Feb. 3, John of Gaunt died.
1399 May 29, Richard II. sailed for Ireland.
1399 June 23, HENRY of Monmouth knighted.
1399 June 28, News of Bolinbroke's designs reached London.
1399 July 4, Bolinbroke landed at Ravenspur.
1399 August, HENRY shut up in Trym Castle.
1399 August, Richard landed at Milford.
1399 Aug. 14, Richard fell into Bolinbroke's hands.
1399 August, Bolinbroke sent to Ireland for HENRY.
1399 August, Death of the young Duke of Gloucester.
1399 Sept. 1, Bolinbroke brought Richard captive to London.
1399 Oct. 1, Richard's resignation of the crown read in Parliament.
1399 Oct. 13, Bolinbroke crowned as Henry IV. (p. xv)
1399 Oct. 15, HENRY created PRINCE of Wales.
1400 Jan. 4, Conspiracy against the King at Windsor.
1400* Feb. 14,* Richard II. died at Pontefract.
1400* Oct. 25,* Chaucer died.
1400 June Henry IV. proceeded to Scotland.
1400 June 23, Lord Grey of Ruthyn's letter to HENRY.
1400 Sept. 19, First proclamation against the Welsh.
1400 Owyn Glyndowr in open rebellion.
1401 HENRY in Wales, before April 10.
1401 April 10, Hotspur's first Letter.
1401* Sept. 13,* KATHARINE, HENRY's Queen, born.
1401* Nov. 11,* Restoration of Isabel.
1402 April 3, Henry IV. espoused to Joan of Navarre.
1402 June 12,* Edmund Mortimer taken prisoner.
1432 Sept. 14, Battle of Homildon.
1402* Nov. 30,* Edmund Mortimer married to a daughter of Owyn Glyndowr.
1403 March 7, HENRY appointed Lieutenant of Wales.
1403* May 30, HENRY's Letter to the Council.
1403 July 21, Battle of Shrewsbury.
1404 May 10, Glyndowr dated "the fourth year of our Principality."
1404 June 10, Welsh with Frenchmen overran Archenfield.
1404 June 25, HENRY's letter to his father.
1404 Oct. 6, Parliament at Coventry.
1405 Feb. 20, Sons of the Earl of March stolen from Windsor.
1405 March 1, Crown settled on HENRY and his brothers.
1405 March 11, Battle of Grosmont.
1405 May, Revolt of the Earl of Northumberland and Bardolf.
1405 June 8, Scrope, Archbishop of York, beheaded.
1406 June 7, Testimony of the Commons to HENRY's excellences.
1406* June 29,* Isabel married to Angouleme.
1407* Nov. 1,* HENRY went to Scotland.
1408 Feb. 28,* Earl of Northumberland, Hotspur's father, fell (p. xvi)
in battle.
1408 July 8, HENRY in London, as President of the Council.
1409 Feb. 1, HENRY, Guardian of the Earl of March.
1409 Feb. 28, HENRY, Warden of Cinque Ports and Constable of Dover.
1409* Sept. 13,* Death of Isabel, Richard II.'s widow.
1410 March 5, Warrant for the burning of Badby.
1410 March 18, HENRY, Captain of Calais.
1410 June 16, HENRY sate as President of the Council.
1410 June 18, Dº. dº.
1410 June 19, Dº. dº.
1410 June 23, Affray in Eastcheap, by the Lords Thomas and John,
his brothers.
1410 July 22, HENRY, as President.
1410 July 29, Dº.
1410 July 30, Dº.
1411 March 19, HENRY with his father at Lambeth.
1411 August,* Duke of Burgundy obtained succour.
1411 Nov. 3, Parliament opened.
1411 Nov. 10, Battle of St. Cloud.
1412 May 18, Treaty with the Duke of Orleans.
1412* June 30,* HENRY came to London attended by "Lords and Gentils."
1412 July 9, The Lord Thomas created Duke of Clarence.
1412* Sept. 23,* He came again with "a huge people."
1413 Feb. 3, Parliament opened.
1413 March 20, Henry IV. died.
1413 April 9, HENRY V. CROWNED.
1413 May 15, Parliament at Westminster.
1413 June 26, Convocation of the Clergy.
1413 Lord Cobham cited.
1413 Lord Cobham escaped from the Tower.
1414 Jan. 10, Affair of St. Giles' Field.
1414 April 20, Parliament at Leicester.
1414 HENRY founded Sion and Shene.
1414 Council of Constance.
1415 May 4, The Council of Constance condemned Wickliffe's (p. xvii)
memory, and commanded the exhumation of his bones.
1415 July 6, John Huss condemned.
1415 July 20, Conspiracy at Southampton.
1415 Aug. 11, HENRY sailed for Normandy.
1415 Sept. 15, Death of Bishop of Norwich in the camp.
1415 Sept. 22, Surrender of Harfleur.
1415 Clayton and Gurmyn burnt for heresy.
1415 Oct. 25, Battle of AGINCOURT.
1415 Nov. 16, HENRY returned to England.
1415 Nov. 22, Thanksgiving in London.
1416 April 29, Emperor Sigismund visited England.
1416 May 30, Jerome of Prague burnt.
1416 Aug. 15, League signed by HENRY and Sigismund.
1417 July 23, HENRY's second expedition.
1417 Sept. 4, Surrender of Caen.
1417 Dec. Execution of Lord Cobham.
1418 July 1, Rouen besieged.
1419 Jan. 19, Rouen taken.
1419 May 30, HENRY and KATHARINE first met.
1419* July 7, HENRY's letter concerning Oriel College.
1420 May 30, HENRY and Katharine married.
1420 July, Katharine lodged in the camp before Melun.
1420 HENRY and Katharine, with the King and Queen of
France, entered Paris.
1421 Jan 31, HENRY and Katharine arrived in England.
1421 Feb 23, Katharine crowned in Westminster.
1421 March 23, They passed their Easter at Leicester.
{Between}
1421 {March &} They travelled through the greater part of England.
{May, }
1421 March 23, Death of the Duke of Clarence.
1421 May 26, Taylor condemned to imprisonment for heresy.
1421 June 1, HENRY left London on his third expedition.
1421 June 10, HENRY landed at Calais. (p. xviii)
1421 Oct. 6, Siege of Meaux began, and lasted till the April
following.
1421 Dec. 6, HENRY's son born at Windsor.
1422 May 21, Katharine landed at Harfleur.
1422 HENRY met her at the Bois de Vincennes.
1422 They entered Paris together.
1422 Aug. HENRY left Katharine at Senlis.
1422 Aug. 31, DEATH of HENRY.
1423 March 1, William Taylor burnt for heresy.
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. (p. xix)
CHAPTER I.
1387-1398.
Henry of Monmouth's Parents. -- Time and place of his Birth. -- John
of Gaunt and Blanche of Lancaster. -- Henry Bolinbroke. -- Monmouth
Castle. -- Henry's infancy and childhood. -- His education. --
Residence in Oxford. -- Bolinbroke's Banishment. Page 1
CHAPTER II.
1398-1399.
Henry taken into the care of Richard. -- Death of John of Gaunt. --
Henry knighted by Richard in Ireland. -- His person and manners. --
News of Bolinbroke's landing and hostile measures reaches Ireland. --
Indecision and delay of Richard. -- He shuts up Henry and the young
Duke of Gloucester in Trym Castle. -- Reflections on the fate of these
two Cousins -- of Bolinbroke -- of Richard -- and of the widowed
Duchess of Gloucester. Page 32
CHAPTER III. (p. xx)
1398-1399.
Proceedings of Bolinbroke from his Interview with Archbishop Arundel,
in Paris, to his making King Richard his prisoner. -- Conduct of
Richard from the news of Bolinbroke's landing. -- Treachery of
Northumberland. -- Richard taken by Bolinbroke to London. Page 52
CHAPTER IV.
1399-1400.
Richard resigns the Crown. -- Bolinbroke elected King. -- Henry of
Monmouth created Prince of Wales. -- Plot to murder the King. -- Death
of Richard. -- Friendship between him and Henry. -- Proposals for a
Marriage between Henry and Isabel, Richard's Widow. -- Henry applies
for an Establishment. -- Hostile movement of the Scots. -- Tradition,
that young Henry marched against them, doubted. Page 68
CHAPTER V.
1400-1401.
The Welsh Rebellion. -- Owyn Glyndowr. -- His former Life. -- Dispute
with Lord Grey of Ruthyn. -- That Lord's Letter to Prince Henry. --
Hotspur. -- His Testimony to Henry's presence in Wales, -- to his
Mercy and his Prowess. -- Henry's Despatch to the Privy Council. Page 88
CHAPTER VI. (p. xxi)
1403.
Glyndowr joined by Welsh Students of Oxford. -- Takes Lord Grey
prisoner. -- Hotspur's further Despatches. -- He quits Wales. --
Reflections on the eventful Life and premature Death of Isabel,
Richard's Widow. -- Glyndowr disposed to come to terms. -- The King's
Expeditions towards Wales abortive. -- Marriage proposed between Henry
and Katharine of Norway. -- The King marries Joan of Navarre. Page 108
CHAPTER VII.
1402-1403.
Glyndowr's vigorous Measures. -- Slaughter of Herefordshire Men. --
Mortimer taken prisoner. -- He joins Glyndowr. -- Henry implores
Succours, -- Pawns his Plate to support his Men. -- The King's
Testimony to his Son's conduct. -- The King, at Burton-on-Trent, hears
of the Rebellion of the Percies. Page 129
CHAPTER VIII.
1403.
The Rebellion of the Percies, -- Its Origin. -- Letters of Hotspur and
the Earl of Northumberland. -- Tripartite Indenture between the
Percies, Owyn, and Mortimer. -- Doubts as to its Authenticity. --
Hotspur hastens from the North. -- The King's decisive conduct. -- He
forms a junction with the Prince. -- "Sorry Battle of Shrewsbury." --
Great Inaccuracy of David Hume. -- Hardyng's Duplicity. -- Manifesto
of the Percies probably a Forgery. -- Glyndowr's Absence from the
Battle involves neither Breach of Faith nor Neglect of Duty. --
Circumstances preceding the Battle. -- Of the Battle itself. -- Its
immediate consequences. Page 141
CHAPTER IX. (p. xxii)
1403-1404.
The Prince commissioned to receive the Rebels into allegiance. -- The
King summons Northumberland. -- Hotspur's Corpse disinterred. -- The
Reason. -- Glyndowr's French Auxiliaries. -- He styles himself "Prince
of Wales." -- Devastation of the Border Counties. -- Henry's Letters
to the King, and to the Council. -- Testimony of him by the County of
Hereford. -- His famous Letter from Hereford. -- Battle of Grosmont.
Page 178
CHAPTER X.
1405-1406.
Rebellion of Northumberland and Bardolf. -- Execution of the
Archbishop of York. -- Wonderful Activity and Resolution of the King.
-- Deplorable state of the Revenue. -- Testimony borne by Parliament
to the Prince's Character. -- The Prince present at the Council-board.
-- He is only occasionally in Wales, and remains for the most part in
London. Page 207
CHAPTER XI.
1407-1409.
Prince Henry's Expedition to Scotland, and Success. -- Thanks
presented to him by Parliament. -- His generous Testimony to the Duke
of York. -- Is first named as President of the Council. -- Returns to
Wales. -- Is appointed Warden of the Cinque Ports and Constable of
Dover. -- Welsh Rebellion dwindles and dies. -- Owyn Glyndowr's
Character and Circumstances; his Reverses and Trials. -- His Bright
Points undervalued. -- The unfavourable side of his Conduct unjustly
darkened by Historians. -- Reflections on his Last Days. -- Fac-simile
of his Seals as Prince of Wales. Page 232
CHAPTER XII. (p. xxiii)
1409-1412.
Reputed Differences between Henry and his Father examined. -- He is
made Captain of Calais. -- His Residence at Coldharbour. -- Presides
at the Council-board. -- Cordiality still visible between him and his
Father. -- Affray in East-Cheap. -- No mention of Henry's presence.
--Projected Marriage between Henry and a Daughter of Burgundy. --
Charge against Henry for acting in opposition to his Father in the
Quarrel of the Dukes of Burgundy and Orleans unfounded. Page 252
CHAPTER XIII.
1412-1413.
Unfounded Charge against Henry of Peculation. -- Still more serious
Accusation of a cruel attempt to dethrone his diseased Father. -- The
Question fully examined. -- Probably a serious though temporary
Misunderstanding at this time between the King and his Son. -- Henry's
Conduct filial, open, and merciful. -- The "Chamber" or the "Crown
Scene." -- Death of Henry the Fourth. Page 278
CHAPTER XIV.
Henry of Monmouth's Character. -- Unfairness of Modern Writers. --
Walsingham examined. -- Testimony of his Father, -- of Hotspur, -- of
the Parliament, -- of the English and Welsh Counties, -- of
Contemporary Chroniclers. -- No one single act of Immorality alleged
against him. -- No intimation of his Extravagance, or Injustice, or
Riot, or Licentiousness, in Wales, London, or Calais. -- Direct
Testimony to the opposite Virtues. -- Lydgate. -- Occleve. Page 313
CHAPTER XV. (p. xxiv)
Shakspeare. -- The Author's reluctance to test the Scenes of the
Poet's Dramas by Matters of Fact. -- Necessity of so doing. -- Hotspur
in Shakspeare the first to bear evidence to Henry's reckless
Profligacy; -- The Hotspur of History the first who testifies to his
Character for Valour, and Mercy, and Faithfulness in his Duties. --
Anachronisms of Shakspeare. -- Hotspur's Age. -- The Capture of
Mortimer. -- Battle of Homildon. -- Field of Shrewsbury. -- Archbishop
Scrope's Death. Page 337
CHAPTER XVI.
Story of Prince Henry and the Chief Justice, first found in the Work
of Sir Thomas Elyot, published nearly a century and a half
subsequently to the supposed transaction. -- Sir John Hawkins -- Hall
-- Hume. -- No allusion to the circumstance in the Early Chroniclers.
-- Dispute as to the Judge. -- Various Claimants of the distinction.
-- Gascoyne -- Hankford -- Hody -- Markham. -- Some interesting
particulars with regard to Gascoyne, lately discovered and verified.
-- Improbability of the entire Story. Page 358
APPENDIX.
No. 1. Owyn Glyndowr 385
2. Lydgate 394
3. Occleve 401
MEMOIRS OF HENRY OF MONMOUTH. (p. 001)
CHAPTER I.
HENRY OF MONMOUTH'S PARENTS. -- TIME AND PLACE OF HIS BIRTH. -- JOHN
OF GAUNT AND BLANCHE OF LANCASTER. -- HENRY BOLINBROKE. -- MONMOUTH
CASTLE. -- HENRY'S INFANCY AND CHILDHOOD. -- HIS EDUCATION. --
RESIDENCE IN OXFORD. -- BOLINBROKE'S BANISHMENT.
1387-1398.
Henry the Fifth was the son of Henry of Bolinbroke and Mary daughter
of Humfrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford. No direct and positive evidence
has yet been discovered to fix with unerring accuracy the day or the
place of his birth. If however we assume the statement of the
chroniclers[2] to be true, that he was born at Monmouth on the ninth
day of August in the year 1387,[3] history supplies many ascertained
facts not only consistent with that hypothesis, but in (p. 002)
confirmation of it; whilst none are found to throw upon it the faintest
shade of improbability. At first sight it might perhaps appear strange
that the exact time of the birth as well of Henry of Monmouth, as of
his father, two successive kings of England, should even yet remain
the subject of conjecture, tradition, and inference; whilst the day
and place of the birth of Henry VI. is matter of historical record. A
single reflection, however, on the circumstances of their respective
births, renders the absence of all precise testimony in the one case
natural; whilst it would have been altogether unintelligible in the
other. When Henry of Bolinbroke and Henry of Monmouth were born, their
fathers were subjects, and nothing of national interest was at the
time associated with their appearance in the world; at Henry of
Windsor's birth he was the acknowledged heir to the throne both of
England and of France.
[Footnote 2: Monomothi in Wallia natus v. Id.
Aug.--Pauli Jov. Ang. Reg. Chron.; William of
Worcester, &c.]
[Footnote 3: At the foot of the Wardrobe Account of
Henry Earl of Derby from 30th September 1387 to
30th September 1388, (and unfortunately no account
of the Duke of Lancaster's expenses is as yet found
extant before that very year,) an item occurs of
341_l._ 12_s._ 5_d._, paid 24th September 1386, for
the household expenses of the Earl and his family
at Monmouth. This proves that his father made the
castle of Monmouth his residence within less than a
year of the date assigned for Henry's birth.]
To what extent Henry of Monmouth's future character and conduct were,
under Providence, affected by the circumstances of his family and its
several members, it would perhaps be less philosophical than
presumptuous to define. But, that those circumstances were (p. 003)
peculiarly calculated to influence him in his principles and views and
actions, will be acknowledged by every one who becomes acquainted with
them, and who is at the same time in the least degree conversant with
the growth and workings of the human mind. It must, therefore, fall
within the province of the inquiry instituted in these pages, to take
a brief review of the domestic history of Henry's family through the
years of his childhood and early youth.
John, surnamed "of Gaunt," from Ghent or Gand in Flanders, the place
of his birth, was the fourth son of King Edward the Third. At a very
early age he married Blanche, daughter and heiress of Henry
Plantagenet, Duke of Lancaster, great-grandson of Henry the Third.[4]
The time of his marriage with Blanche,[5] though recorded with
sufficient precision, is indeed comparatively of little consequence;
whilst the date of their son Henry's birth, from the influence which
the age of a father may have on the destinies of his child, becomes
matter of much importance to those who take any interest in the (p. 004)
history of their grandson, Henry of Monmouth. On this point it has
been already intimated that no conclusive evidence is directly upon
record. The principal facts, however, which enable us to draw an
inference of high probability, are associated with so pleasing and so
exemplary a custom, though now indeed fallen into great desuetude
among us, that to review them compensates for any disappointment which
might be felt from the want of absolute certainty in the issue of our
research. It was Henry of Bolinbroke's custom[6] every year on the
Feast of the Lord's Supper, that is, on the Thursday before Easter, to
clothe as many poor persons as equalled the number of years which he
had completed on the preceding birthday; and by examining the accounts
still preserved in the archives of the Duchy of Lancaster, the details
of which would be altogether uninteresting in this place, we are led
to infer that Henry Bolinbroke was born on the 4th of April 1366.
Blanche, his mother, survived the birth of Bolinbroke probably not
more than three years. Whether this lady found in John of Gaunt a
faithful and loving husband, or whether his libertinism caused her to
pass her short life in disappointment and sorrow, no authentic
document enables us to pronounce. It is, however, impossible to close
our eyes against the painful fact, that Catherine Swynford, who (p. 005)
was the partner of his guilt during the life of his second wife,
Constance, had been an inmate of his family, as the confidential
attendant on his wife Blanche, and the governess of her daughters,
Philippa and Elizabeth of Lancaster. That he afterwards, by a life of
abandoned profligacy, disgraced the religion which he professed, is,
unhappily, put beyond conjecture or vague rumour. Though we cannot
infer from any expenses about her funeral and her memory, that Blanche
was the sole object of his affections, (the most lavish costliness at
the tomb of the departed too often being only in proportion to the
unkindness shown to the living,) yet it may be worth observing, that
in 1372 we find an entry in the account, of 20_l._ paid to two
chaplains (together with the expenses of the altar) to say masses for
her soul. He was then already[7] married to his second wife,
Constance, daughter of Peter the Cruel, King of Castile. By this lady,
whom he often calls "the Queen," he appears to have had only one
child, married, it is said, to Henry III. King of Castile.[8]
Constance, the mother, is represented to have been one of the most (p. 006)
amiable and exemplary persons of the age, "above other women innocent
and devout;" and from her husband she deserved treatment far different
from what it was her unhappy lot to experience. But however severe
were her sufferings, she probably concealed them within her own
breast: and she neither left her husband nor abandoned her duties in
disgust. It is indeed possible, though in the highest degree
improbable, that whilst his unprincipled conduct was too notorious to
be concealed from others, she was not herself made fully acquainted
with his infidelity towards her. At all events we may indulge in the
belief that she proved to her husband's only legitimate son, Henry (p. 007)
of Bolinbroke, a kind and watchful mother.
[Footnote 4: His wife's sister, Matilda, married to
William, Duke of Holland and Zealand, dying without
issue, John of Gaunt succeeded to the undivided
estates and honours of the late duke.]
[Footnote 5: Froissart reports that Henry
Bolinbroke was a handsome young man; and declares
that he never saw two such noble dames, nor ever
should were he to live a thousand years, so good,
liberal, and courteous, as his mother the Lady
Blanche, and "the late Queen of England," Philippa
of Hainault, wife of Edward the Third. These were
the mother, and the consort of John of Gaunt.]
[Footnote 6: For this fact and the several items by
which it is substantiated, the Author is indebted
to the kindness and antiquarian researches of
William Hardy, Esq. of the Duchy of Lancaster
office. These accounts begin to date from September
30th 1381.]
[Footnote 7: In 1387 the Duke of Lancaster,
accompanied by Constance and a numerous retinue,
went to Spain to claim his wife's rights; and he
succeeded in obtaining from the King of Spain very
large sums in hand, and hostages for the payment of
10,000_l._ annually to himself and his duchess for
life. Wals. Neust. 544.]
[Footnote 8: There is an order, dated June 6th,
1372, to lodge two pipes of good wine in Kenilworth
Priory, and to hasten with all speed Dame Ilote,
the midwife, to the Queen Constance at Hertford on
horse or in carriage as should be best for her
ease. The same person attended the late Duchess
Blanche.
The Author has lately discovered on the Pell Rolls
a payment, dated 21st February 1373, which refers
to the birth of a daughter, and at the same time
informs us that his future wife was then probably a
member of his household. "To Catherine Swynford
twenty marks for announcing to the King (Richard
the Second) the birth of a daughter of the Queen of
Spain, consort of John, King of Castile and Leon,
and Duke of Lancaster."
The marriage of John of Gaunt with Catherine
Swynford took place only the second year after the
death of Constance, and seems to have excited among
the nobility equal surprise and disgust. "The great
ladies of England, (as Stowe reports,) as the
Duchess of Gloucester, &c. disdained that she
should be matched with the Duke of Lancaster, and
by that means accounted second person in the realm,
and be preferred in room before them."
King Richard however made her a handsome present of
a ring, at the same time that he presented one to
Henry, Earl of Derby, (Henry IV.) and another to
Lady Beauchamp. Pell Rolls.]
At that period of our history, persons married at a much earlier age
than is usually the case among us now; and the espousals of young
people often preceded for some years the period of quitting their
parents' home, and living together, as man and wife. In the year 1381
Henry, at that time only fifteen years of age, was espoused[9] to his
future wife, Mary Bohun, daughter of the Earl of Hereford, who had (p. 008)
then not reached her twelfth year. These espousals were in those days
accompanied by the religious service of matrimony, and the bride
assumed the title of her espoused husband.[10]
[Footnote 9: In this same year Bolinbroke's life
was put into imminent peril during the insurrection
headed by Wat Tiler. The rebels broke into the
Tower of London, though it was defended by some
brave knights and soldiers; seized and murdered the
Archbishop and others; and, carrying the heads of
their victims on pikes, proceeded in a state of
fury to John of Gaunt's palace at the Savoy, which
they utterly destroyed and burnt to the ground.
Gaunt himself was in the North: but his son
Bolinbroke was in the Tower of London, and owed his
life to the interposition of one John Ferrour of
Southwark. This is a fact not generally known to
historians; and since the document which records
it, bears testimony to Bolinbroke's spirit of
gratitude, it will not be thought out of place to
allude to it here. This same John Ferrour, with Sir
Thomas Blount and others, was tried in the Castle
of Oxford for high treason, in the first year of
Henry IV. Blount and the others were condemned and
executed; but to John Ferrour a free pardon, dated
Monday after the Epiphany, was given, "our Lord the
King remembering that in the reign of Richard the
Second, during the insurrection of the Counties of
Essex and Kent, the said John saved the King's life
in the midst of that commonalty, in a wonderful and
kind manner, whence the King happily remains alive
unto this day. For since every good whatever
naturally and of right requires another good in
return, the King of his especial grace freely
pardons the said John." Plac. Cor. in Cast. Oxon.]
[Footnote 10: Thus, in a warrant, dated 6th March
1381, an order is given by the Duke for payment to
a Goldsmith in London, of 10_l._ 18_s._ for a
present made by our dear daughter Philippa, to our
very dear daughter Mary, Countess of Derby, on the
day of her marriage; and also "40 shillings for as
many pence put upon the book on the day of the
espousals of our much beloved son, the Earl of
Derby." Eight marks are ordered to be paid for "a
ruby given by us to our very dear daughter Mary:"
13_s._ 4_d._ for the offering at the mass. Ten
marks from us to the King's minstrels being there
on the same day; and ten marks to four minstrels of
our brother the Earl of Cambridge being there; and
fifty marks to the officers of our cousin, the
Countess of Hereford! On the 31st of January
following, the Duke lays himself under a bond to
pay to "Dame Bohun, Countess of Hereford, her
mother, the sum of one hundred marks annually, for
the charge and cost of his daughter-in-law, Mary,
Countess of Derby, until the said Mary shall attain
the full age of fourteen years."]
We shall probably not be in error, if we fix the period of the
Countess of Derby leaving her mother's for her husband's roof
somewhere in the year 1386, when he was twenty, and she sixteen years
old; and we are not without reason for believing that they made
Monmouth Castle their home.
Some modern writers affirm that this was the favourite residence of
John of Gaunt's family: but it is very questionable whether from
having themselves experienced the beauty and loveliness of the spot,
they have not been unconsciously tempted to venture this assertion (p. 009)
without historical evidence. Monmouth is indeed situated in one of the
fairest and loveliest valleys within the four seas of Britain. Near
its centre, on a rising ground between the river Monnow (from which
the town derives its name) and the Wye and not far from their
confluence, the ruins of the Castle are still visible. The poet Gray
looked over it from the side of the Kymin Hill, when he described the
scene before him as "the delight of his eyes, and the very seat of
pleasure." With his testimony, unbiassed as it was by local
attachment, it would be unwise to mingle the feelings of affection
entertained by one whose earliest associations, "redolent of joy and
youth," can scarcely rescue his judgment from the suspicion of
partiality. At that time John of Gaunt's estates and princely mansions
studded, at various distances, the whole land of England from its
northern border to the southern coast. And whether he allowed Henry of
Bolinbroke to select for himself from the ample pages of his rent-roll
the spot to which he would take his bride, or whether he assigned it
of his own choice to his son as the fairest of his possessions; or
whether any other cause determined the place of Henry the Fifth's
birth, we have no reasonable ground for doubting that he was born in
the Castle of Monmouth, on the 9th of August 1387.
Of Monmouth Castle, the dwindling ruins are now very scanty, and in
point of architecture present nothing worthy of an antiquary's (p. 010)
research. They are washed by the streams of the Monnow, and are
embosomed in gardens and orchards, clothing the knoll on which they
stand; the aspect of the southern walls, and the rocky character of
the soil admirably adapting them for the growth of the vine, and the
ripening of its fruits. In the memory of some old inhabitants, who
were not gathered to their fathers when the Author could first take an
interest in such things, and who often amused his childhood with tales
of former days, the remains of the Hall of Justice were still
traceable within the narrowed pile; and the crumbling bench on which
the Justices of the Circuit once sate, was often usurped by the boys
in their mock trials of judge and jury. Somewhat more than half a
century ago, a gentleman whose garden reached to one of the last
remaining towers, had reason to be thankful for a marked interposition
in his behalf of the protecting hand of Providence. He was enjoying
himself on a summer's evening in an alcove built under the shelter and
shade of the castle, when a gust of wind blew out the candle by his
side, just at the time when he felt disposed to replenish and rekindle
his pipe. He went consequently with the lantern in his hand towards
his house, intending to renew his evening's recreation; but he had
scarcely reached the door when the wall fell, burying his retreat, and
the entire slope, with its shrubs and flowers and fruits, under one
mass of ruin.
From this castle, tradition says, that being a sickly child, Henry (p. 011)
was taken to Courtfield, at the distance of six or seven miles from
Monmouth, to be nursed there. That tradition is doubtless very ancient;
and the cradle itself in which Henry is said to have been rocked, was
shown there till within these few years, when it was sold, and taken
from the house. It has since changed hands, if it be any longer in
existence. The local traditions, indeed, in the neighbourhood of
Courtfield and Goodrich are almost universally mingled with the very
natural mistake that, when Henry of Monmouth was born, his father was
king; and so far a shade of improbability may be supposed to invest
them all alike; yet the variety of them in that one district, and the
total absence of any stories relative to the same event on every other
side of Monmouth, should seem to countenance a belief that some real
foundation existed for the broad and general features of these
traditionary tales. Thus, though the account acquiesced in by some
writers, that the Marchioness of Salisbury was Henry of Monmouth's
nurse at Courtfield, may have originated in an officious anxiety to
supply an infant prince with a nurse suitable to his royal birth;
still, probably, that appendage would not have been annexed to a story
utterly without foundation, and consequently throws no incredibility
on the fact that the eldest son of the young Earl of Derby was nursed
at Courtfield. Thus, too, though the recorded salutation of the
ferryman of Goodrich congratulates his Majesty on the birth of a (p. 012)
noble prince, as the King was hastening from his court and palace of
Windsor to his castle of Monmouth; yet the unstationary habits of
Bolingbroke, his love of journeyings and travels, and his restlessness
at home, render it very probable that he was absent from Monmouth even
when the hour of perilous anxiety was approaching; and thus on his
return homeward (perhaps too from Richard's court at Windsor) the
first tidings of the safety of his Countess and the birth of the young
lord may have saluted him as he crossed the Wye at Goodrich Ferry. So
again in the little village of Cruse, lying between the church and the
castle of Goodrich, the cottagers still tell, from father to son, as
they have told for centuries over their winter's hearth, how the
herald, hurrying from Monmouth to Goodrich fast as whip and spur could
urge his steed onward, with the tidings of the Prince of Wales' birth,
fell headlong, (the horse dropping under him in the short, steep, and
rugged lane leading to the ravine, beyond which the castle stands,)
and was killed on the spot. No doubt the idea of its being the news of
a prince's birth, that was thus posted on, has added, in the
imagination of the villagers, to the horse's fleetness and the
breathless impetuosity of the messenger; but it is very probable that
the news of the young lord's birth, heir to the dukedom of Lancaster,
should have been hastened from the castle of Monmouth to Goodrich;
and there is no solid reason for discrediting the story. (p. 013)
Still, beyond tradition, there is no evidence at all to fix the young
lord either at Courtfield, or indeed at Monmouth, for any period
subsequently to his birth. On the contrary, several items of expense
in the "Wardrobe account of Henry, Earl of Derby," would induce us to
infer either that the tradition is unfounded, or that at the utmost
the infant lord was nursed at Courtfield only for a few months. In
that account[11] we find an entry of a charge for a "_long gown_" for
the young lord Henry; and also the payment of 2_l._ to a midwife for
her attendance on the Countess during her confinement at the birth of
the young lord Thomas, the gift of the Earl, "_at London_". By this
document it is proved that Henry's younger brother, the future Duke of
Clarence, was born before October 1388, and that some time in the
preceding year Henry was himself still in the long robes of an infant;
and that the family had removed from Monmouth to London. In the
Wardrobe expenses of the Countess for the same year, we find several
items of sums defrayed for the clothes of the young lords Henry and
Thomas together, but no allusion whatever to the brothers being
separate: one entry,[12] fixing Thomas and his nurse at Kenilworth
soon after his birth, leaves no ground for supposing that his (p. 014)
elder brother was either at Monmouth or at Courtfield. It may be
matter of disappointment and of surprise that Henry's name does not
occur in connexion with the place of his birth in any single
contemporary document now known. The fact, however, is so. But whilst
the place of Henry's nursing is thus left in uncertainty, the name of
his nurse--in itself a matter not of the slightest importance--is made
known to us not only in the Wardrobe account of his mother, but also
by a gratifying circumstance, which bears direct testimony to his own
kind and grateful, and considerate and liberal mind. Her name was
Johanna Waring; on whom, very shortly after he ascended the throne, he
settled an annuity of 20_l._ "in consideration of good service done to
him in former days."[13]
[Footnote 11: Between 30th Sept. 1387 and 1st Oct.
1388.]
[Footnote 12: An item of five yards of cloth for
the bed of the nurse of Thomas at Kenilworth; and
an ell of canvass for his cradle.]
[Footnote 13: This is one of those incidents,
occurring now and then, the discovery of which
repays the antiquary or the biographer for wading,
with toilsome search, through a confused mass of
uninteresting details, and often encourages him to
persevere when he begins to feel weary and
disappointed.]
Very few incidents are recorded which can throw light upon Henry's
childhood, and for those few we are indebted chiefly to the dry
details of account-books. In these many particular items of expense
occur relative as well to Henry as to his brothers; which, probably,
would differ very little from those of other young noblemen of England
at that period of her history. The records of the Duchy of Lancaster
provide us with a very scanty supply of such particulars as convey (p. 015)
any interesting information on the circumstances and occupations and
amusements of Henry of Monmouth. From these records, however, we learn
that he was attacked by some complaint, probably both sudden and
dangerous, in the spring of 1395; for among the receiver's accounts is
found the charge of "6_s._ 8_d._ for Thomas Pye, and a horse hired at
London, March 18th, to carry him to Leicester with all speed, on
account of the illness of the young lord Henry." In the year 1397,
when he was just ten years old, a few entries occur, somewhat
interesting, as intimations of his boyish pursuits. Such are the
charge of "8_d._ paid by the hands of Adam Garston for harpstrings
purchased for the harp of the young lord Henry," and "12_d._ to
Stephen Furbour for a new scabbard of a sword for young lord Henry,"
and "1_s._ 6_d._ for three-fourths of an ounce of tissue of black silk
bought at London of Margaret Stranson for a sword of young lord
Henry." Whilst we cannot but be sometimes amused by the minuteness
with which the expenditure of the smallest sum in so large an
establishment as John of Gaunt's is detailed, these little incidents
prepare us for the statement given of Henry's early youth by the
chroniclers,--that he was fond both of minstrelsy and of military
exercises.
The same dry pages, however, assure us that his more severe studies
were not neglected. In the accounts for the year ending February 1396,
we find a charge of "4_s._ for seven books of Grammar contained (p. 016)
in one volume, and bought at London for the young Lord Henry." The
receiver-general's record informs us of the name of the lord Humfrey's
tutor;[14] but who was appointed to instruct the young lord Henry does
not appear; nor can we tell how soon he was put under the guidance of
Henry Beaufort. If, as we have reason to believe, he had that
celebrated man as his instructor, or at least the superintendent of
his studies, in Oxford so early as 1399, we may not, perhaps, be
mistaken in conjecturing, that even this volume of Grammar was first
learned under the direction of the future Cardinal.
[Footnote 14: "Thomæ Rothwell informanti Humfridum
filium Domini Regis pro salario suo de termino
Paschæ, 13_s._ 4_d._"--1 Hen. IV.]
Scanty as are the materials from which we must weave our opinion with
regard to the first years of Henry of Monmouth, they are sufficient to
suggest many reflections upon the advantages as well as the
unfavourable circumstances which attended him: We must first, however,
revert to a few more particulars relative to his family and its chief
members.
His father, who was then about twenty-four years of age, certainly
left England[15] between the 6th of May 1390 and the 30th of April (p. 017)
1391, and proceeded to Barbary. During his absence his Countess was
delivered of Humfrey, his fourth son. Between the summers of 1392 and
1393 he undertook a journey to Prussia, and to the Holy Sepulchre.
[Footnote 15: The treasurer's account, during the
Earl's absence, contains some items which remove
all doubt from this statement: among others, 20_l._
to Lancaster the herald, on Nov. 5, going toward
England; and in the same month, to three
"persuivantes," being with the Earl, eight nobles;
and to a certain English sailor, carrying the news
of the birth of Humfrey, son of my lord, 13_s._
4_d._]
The next year visited Henry with one of the most severe losses which
can befall a youth of his age. His mother,[16] then only twenty-four
years old, having given birth to four sons and two daughters, was
taken away from the anxious cares and comforts of her earthly career,
in the very prime of life.[17] Nor was this the only bereavement which
befell the family at this time. Constance, the second wife of John of
Gaunt, a lady to whose religious and moral worth the strongest and
warmest testimony is borne by the chroniclers of the time; and who
might (had it so pleased the Disposer of all things) have watched (p. 018)
over the education of her husband's grandchildren, was also this same
year removed from them to her rest: they were both buried at
Leicester, then one of the chief residences of the family.
[Footnote 16: King Richard II, the Duke of
Lancaster, and his son, Henry of Bolinbroke, became
widowers in the same year.]
[Footnote 17: That Henry cherished the memory of
his mother with filial tenderness, may be inferred
from the circumstance that only two months after he
succeeded to the throne, and had the means and the
opportunity of testifying his grateful remembrance
of her, we find money paid "in advance to William
Goodyere for newly devising and making an image in
likeness of the Mother of the present lord the
King, ornamented with diverse arms of the kings of
England, and placed over the tomb of the said
king's mother, within the King's College at
Leicester, where she is buried and entombed."--Pell
Rolls, May 20, 1413.]
The mind cannot contemplate the case of either of these ladies without
feelings of pity rather than of envy. They were both nobly born, and
nobly married; and yet the elder was joined to a man, who, to say the
very least, shared his love for her with another; and the younger,
though requiring, every year of her married state, all the attention
and comfort and support of an affectionate husband, yet was more than
once left to experience a temporary widowhood. And if we withdraw our
thoughts from those of whom this family was then deprived, there is
little to lessen our estimate of their loss, when we think of those
whom they left behind. Henry's maternal grandmother, indeed, the
Countess of Hereford, survived her daughter many years; and we are not
without an intimation that she at least interested herself in her
grandson's welfare. In his will, dated 1415, he bequeaths to Thomas,
Bishop of Durham, "the missal and portiphorium[18] which we had of the
gift of our dear grandmother, the Countess of Hereford."[19] We may
fairly infer from this circumstance that Henry had at least one (p. 019)
near relation both able and willing to guide him in the right way. How
far opportunities were afforded her of exercising her maternal
feelings towards him, cannot now be ascertained; and with the
exception of this noble lady, there is no other to whom we can turn
with entire satisfaction, when we contemplate the salutary effects
either of precept or example in the case of Henry of Monmouth.
[Footnote 18: The portiphorium was a breviary,
containing directions as to the services of the
church.]
[Footnote 19: He bequeaths also, in the same will,
"to Joan, Countess of Hereford, our dear
grandmother, a gold cyphus." This lady, however,
died before Henry. In the Pell Rolls we find the
payment of "442_l._ 17_s._ 5_d._ to Robert Darcy
and others, executors of Joan de Bohun, late
Countess of Hereford, on account of live and dead
stock belonging to her, February 27, 1421."]
His father indeed was a gallant young knight, often distinguishing
himself at justs and tournaments;[20] of an active, ardent and
enterprising spirit; nor is any imputation against his moral character
found recorded. But we have no ground for believing, that he devoted
much of his time and thoughts to the education of his children.
[Footnote 20: Soon after Henry IV's accession, the
Pell Rolls, May 8, 1401, record the payment of
"10_l._ to Bertolf Vander Eure, who fenced with the
present lord the King with the long sword, and was
hurt in the neck by the said lord the King." The
Chronicle of London for 1386 says "there were
joustes at Smithfield. There bare him well Sir
Harry of Derby, the Duke's son of Lancaster."]
Henry Beaufort, the natural son of John of Gaunt, a person of
commanding talent, and of considerable attainments for that age,
whilst there is no reason to believe him to have been that abandoned
worldling whose eyes finally closed in black despair without a (p. 020)
hope of Heaven, yet was not the individual to whose training a
Christian parent would willingly intrust the education of his child.
And in John of Gaunt[21] himself, little perhaps can be discovered
either in principle, or judgment, or conduct, which his grandson could
imitate with religious and moral profit. Thus we find Henry of
Monmouth in his childhood labouring under many disadvantages. Still
our knowledge of the domestic arrangements and private circumstances
of his family is confessedly very limited; and it would be unwise to
conclude that there were no mitigating causes in operation, nor any
advantages to put as a counterpoise into the opposite scale. He may
have been under the guidance and tuition of a good Christian and (p. 021)
well-informed man; he may have been surrounded by companions whose
acquaintance would be a blessing. But this is all conjecture; and
probably the question is now beyond the reach of any satisfactory
solution.
[Footnote 21: The Author would gladly have
presented to the reader a different portrait of the
religious and moral character of "Old John of
Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster;" but a careful
examination of the testimony of his enemies and of
his eulogists, as well as of the authentic
documents of his own household, seems to leave no
other alternative, short of the sacrifice of truth.
Godwin, in his Life of Chaucer, has undertaken his
defence, but on such unsound principles of morality
as must be reprobated by every true lover of
Religion and Virtue. The same domestic register of
the Duchy which records the wages paid to the
adulteress, and the duke's losses by gambling,
proves (as many other family accounts would prove)
that no fortune however princely can supply the
unbounded demands of profligacy and dissipation.
Even John of Gaunt, with his immense possessions,
was driven to borrow money. This fact is
accompanied in the record by the curious
circumstance, that an order is given for the
employment of three or four stout yeomen, because
of the danger of the road, to guard the bearers of
a loan made by the Earl of Arundel to the Duke, and
sent from Shrewsbury to London.]
With regard to the next step also in young Henry's progress towards
manhood, we equally depend upon tradition for the views which we may
be induced to take: still it is a tradition in which we shall probably
acquiesce without great danger of error. He is said to have been sent
to Oxford, and to have studied in "The Queen's College" under the
tuition of Henry Beaufort, his paternal uncle, then Chancellor of the
University. No document is known to exist among the archives of the
College or of the University, which can throw any light on this point;
except that the fact has been established of Henry Beaufort having
been admitted a member of Queen's College, and of his having been
chancellor of the university only for the year 1398.
This extraordinary man was consecrated Bishop of Lincoln, July 14,
1398, as appears by the Episcopal Register of that See; after which he
did not reside in Oxford. If therefore Henry of Monmouth studied under
him in that university, it must have been through the spring and
summer of that year, the eleventh of his age. And on this we may rely
as the most probable fact. Certainly in the old buildings of Queen's
College, a chamber used to be pointed out by successive generations as
Henry the Fifth's. It stood over the gateway opposite to St. (p. 022)
Edmund's Hall. A portrait of him in painted glass, commemorative of
the circumstance, was seen in the window, with an inscription (as it
should seem of comparatively recent date) in Latin:
To record the fact for ever.
The Emperor of Britain,
The Triumphant Lord of France,
The Conqueror of his enemies and of himself,
Henry V.
Of this little chamber,
Once the great Inhabitant.[22]
[Footnote 22: Fuller in his Church History, having
informed us that Henry's chamber over the College
gate was then inhabited by the historian's friend
Thomas Barlow, adds "His picture remaineth there to
this day in _brass_".]
It may be observed that in the tender age of Henry involved in this
supposition, there is nothing in the least calculated to throw a shade
of improbability on this uniform tradition. Many in those days became
members of the university at the time of life when they would now be
sent to school.[23] And possibly we shall be most right in supposing
that Henry (though perhaps without himself being enrolled among the
regular academics) lived with his uncle, then chancellor, and studied
under his superintendence. There is nothing on record (hitherto (p. 023)
discovered) in the slightest degree inconsistent with this view;
whereas if we were inclined to adopt the representation of some (on
what authority it does not appear) that Henry was sent to Oxford soon
after his father ascended the throne, many and serious difficulties
would present themselves. In the first place his uncle, who was
legitimated only the year before, was prematurely made Bishop of
Lincoln by the Pope, through the interest of John of Gaunt, in the
year 1398, and never resided in Oxford afterwards. How old he was at
his consecration, has not yet been satisfactorily established;
conjecture would lead us to regard him as a few years only (perhaps
ten or twelve) older than his nephew. Otterbourne tells us that he was
made Bishop[24] when yet a boy.
[Footnote 23: Those who were designed for the
military profession were compelled to bear arms,
and go to the field at the age of fifteen:
consequently the little education they received was
confined to their boyhood.]
[Footnote 24: "Admodum parvo."]
In the next place we can scarcely discover six months in Henry's life
after his uncle's consecration, through which we can with equal
probability suppose him to have passed his time in Oxford. It is next
to certain that before the following October term, he had been removed
into King Richard's palace, carefully watched (as we shall see
hereafter); whilst in the spring of the following year, 1399, he was
unquestionably obliged to accompany that monarch in his expedition to
Ireland. Shortly after his return, in the autumn of that year, on his
father's accession to the throne, he was created Prince of Wales; and
through the following spring the probability is strong that his father
was too anxiously engaged in negotiating a marriage between him (p. 024)
and a daughter of the French King, and too deeply interested in
providing for him an adequate establishment in the metropolis, to take
any measures for improving and cultivating his mind in the university.
Independently of which we may be fully assured that had he become a
student of the University of Oxford as Prince of Wales, it would not
have been left to chance, to deliver his name down to after-ages: the
archives of the University would have furnished direct and
contemporary evidence of so remarkable a fact; and the College would
have with pride enrolled him at the time among its members: as the boy
of the Earl of Derby, or the Duke of Hereford, living with his uncle,
there is nothing[25] in the omission of his name inconsistent with our
hypothesis. At all events, whatever evidence exists of Henry having
resided under any circumstances in Oxford, fixes him there under the
tuition of the future Cardinal; and that well-known personage is
proved not to have resided there subsequently to his appointment to
the see[26] of Lincoln, in the summer of 1398.[27]
[Footnote 25: On the 29th of the preceding
September 1397, Richard II. "with the consent of
the prelates, lords and commons in parliament
assembled," created Bolinbroke, then Earl of Derby,
Duke of Hereford, with a royal gift of forty marks
by the year, to him and his heirs for ever. Pell
Rolls. Pasc. 22 R. II. April 15.]
[Footnote 26: The Lincoln register (for a copy of
which the Author is indebted to the present Bishop)
dates the commencement of the year of Henry
Beaufort's consecration from July 14, 1398.]
[Footnote 27: It is a curious fact, not generally
known, that Henry IV. in the _first_ year of his
reign took possession of all the property of the
Provost and Fellows of Queen's College (on the
ground of mismanagement), and appointed the
Chancellor, the Chief Justice, the Master of the
Rolls, and others, guardians of the College. This
is scarcely consistent with the supposition of his
son being resident there at the time, or of his
selecting that college for him afterwards.]
What were Henry's studies in Oxford, whether, like Ingulphus some (p. 025)
centuries before, he drank to his fill of "Aristotle's[28] Philosophy
and Cicero's Rhetoric," or whether his mind was chiefly directed to
the scholastic theology so prevalent in his day, it were fruitless (p. 026)
to inquire. His uncle (as we have already intimated) seems to have
been a person of some learning, an excellent man of business, and in
the command of a ready eloquence. In establishing his positions (p. 027)
before the parliament, we find him not only quoting from the Bible,
(often, it must be acknowledged, without any strict propriety of
application,) but also citing facts from ancient Grecian history. We
may, however, safely conclude that the Chancellor of Oxford confined
himself to the general superintendence of his nephew's education,
intrusting the details to others more competent to instruct him in the
various branches of literature. It is very probable that to some
arrangement of that kind Henry was indebted for his acquaintance with
such excellent men as his friends John Carpenter of Oriel, and Thomas
Rodman, or Rodburn, of Merton.[29]
[Footnote 28: The Author trusts to be pardoned, if
he suffers these conjectures on Henry's studies in
Oxford to tempt him to digress in this note further
than the strict rules of unity might approve. They
brought a lively image to his mind of the
occupations and confessions of one of the earliest
known sons of Alma Mater. Perhaps Ingulphus is the
first upon record who, having laid the foundation
of his learning at Westminster, proceeded for its
further cultivation to Oxford. From the
biographical sketch of his own life, we learn that
he was born of English parents and a native of the
fair city of London. Whilst a schoolboy at
Westminster, he was so happy as to have interested
in his behalf Egitha, daughter of Earl Godwin, and
queen of Edward the Confessor. He describes his
patroness as a lady of great beauty, well versed in
literature, of most pure chastity and exalted moral
feeling, together with pious humbleness of mind,
tainted by no spot of her father's or her brother's
barbarism, but mild and modest, honest and
faithful, and the enemy of no human being. In
confirmation of his estimate of her excellence, he
quotes a Latin verse current in his day, not very
complimentary to her sire: "As a thorn is the
parent of the rose, so was Godwin of Egitha." I
have often seen her (he continues) when I have been
visiting my father in the palace. Many a time, as
she met me on my return from school, would she
examine me in my scholarship and verses; and
turning with the most perfect familiarity from the
solidity of grammar to the playfulness of logic, in
which she was well skilled, when she had caught me
and held me fast by some subtle chain, she would
always direct her maid to give me three or four
pieces of money, and sending me off to the royal
refectory would dismiss me after my refreshment."
It is possible that many of our fair countrywomen
in the highest ranks now, are not aware that, more
than eight hundred years ago, their fair and noble
predecessors could play with a Westminster scholar
in grammar, verses, and logic. Egitha left behind
her an example of high religious, moral, and
literary worth, by imitating which, not perhaps in
its literal application, but certainly in its
spirit, the noble born among us will best uphold
and adorn their high station. Ingulphus (in the
very front of whose work the Author thinks he sees
the stamp of raciness and originality, though he
cannot here enter into the question of its
genuineness) tells us then, how he made proficiency
beyond many of his equals in mastering the
doctrines of Aristotle, and covered himself to the
very ankles in Cicero's Rhetoric. But, alas, for
the vanity of human nature! His confession here
might well suggest reflections of practical wisdom
to many a young man who may be tempted, as was
Ingulphus, in the university or the wide world, to
neglect and despise his father's roof and his
father's person, after success in the world may
have raised him in society above the humble station
of his birth,--a station from which perhaps the
very struggles and privations of that parent
himself may have enabled him to emerge. "Growing up
a young man (he says) I felt a sort of disdainful
loathing at the straitened and lowly circumstances
of my parents, and desired to leave my paternal
hearth, hankering after the halls of kings and of
the great, and daily longing more and more to array
myself in the gayest and most luxurious costume."
Ingulphus lived to repent, and to be ashamed of his
weakness and folly.]
[Footnote 29: John Carpenter. This learned and good
man could not have been much, if at all, Henry's
senior. He was made Bishop of Worcester (not as
Goodwin says by Henry V. but) in the year 1443. He
died in 1476; so that if he was in Oxford when we
suppose Henry to have studied there and to have
been only his equal in age, he would have been
nearly ninety when he died. Thomas Rodman was an
eminent astronomer as well as a learned divine, of
Merton College. He was not promoted to a bishopric
till two years after Henry's death.
Among other learned and pious men who were much
esteemed by Henry, we find especially mentioned
Robert Mascall, confessor to his father, and
Stephen Partington. The latter was a very popular
preacher, whom some of the nobility invited to
court. Henry, delighted with his eloquence, treated
him with favour and affectionate regard, and
advanced him to the see of St. David's. Robert
Mascall was of the order of Friars Carmelites. In
1402 he was ordered to be continually about the
King's person, for the advantage and health of his
soul. Two years afterwards he was advanced to the
see of Hereford. Pell Rolls.]
But whatever course of study was chalked out for him, and through (p. 028)
however long or short a period before the summer of 1398, or under
what guides soever he pursued it, it is impossible to read his
letters, and reflect on what is authentically recorded of him, without
being involuntarily impressed by an assurance that he had imbibed a
very considerable knowledge of Holy Scripture, even beyond the young
men of his day. His conduct also in after-life would prepare us for
the testimony borne to him by chroniclers, that "he held in great
veneration such as surpassed in learning and virtue." Still, whilst we
regret that history throws no fuller light on the early days of Henry
of Monmouth, we cannot but hope that in the hidden treasures of
manuscripts hereafter to be again brought into the light of day, much
may be yet ascertained on satisfactory evidence; and we must leave the
subject to those more favoured times.[30]
[Footnote 30: Many ancient documents (of the
existence of which in past years, often not very
remote, there can be no doubt,) now, unhappily for
those who would bring the truth to light, are in a
state of abeyance or of perdition. To mention only
one example; the work of Peter Basset, who was
chamberlain to Henry V. and attended him in his
wars, referred to by Goodwin, and reported to be in
the library of the College of Arms, is no longer in
existence; at least it has disappeared and not a
trace of it can be found there.]
But whilst doubts may still be thought to hang over the exact time and
the duration of Henry's academical pursuits, it is matter of (p. 029)
historical certainty, that an event took place in the autumn of 1398,
which turned the whole stream of his life into an entirely new
channel, and led him by a very brief course to the inheritance of the
throne of England. His father, hitherto known as the Earl of Derby,
was created Duke of Hereford by King Richard II. Very shortly after
his creation, he stated openly in parliament[31] that the Duke of
Norfolk, whilst they were riding together between Brentford and
London, had assured him of the King's intention to get rid of them
both, and also of the Duke of Lancaster with other noblemen, of whose
designs against his throne or person he was apprehensive. The Duke of
Norfolk denied the charge, and a trial of battle was appointed to
decide the merits of the question. The King, doubting probably the
effect on himself of the issue of that wager of battle, postponed the
day from time to time. At length he fixed finally upon the 16th of
September, and summoned the two noblemen to redeem their pledges at
Coventry. Very splendid preparations had been made for the struggle;
and the whole kingdom shewed the most anxious interest in the result.
On the day appointed, the Lord High Constable and the Lord High
Marshal of England, with a very great company, and splendidly arrayed,
first entered the lists. About the hour of prime the Duke of Hereford
appeared at the barriers on a white courser, barbed with blue and (p. 030)
green velvet, sumptuously embroidered with swans and antelopes[32] of
goldsmith's work,[33] and armed at all points. The King himself soon
after entered with great pomp, attended by the peers of the realm, and
above ten thousand men in arms to prevent any tumult. The Duke of
Norfolk then came on a steed "barbed with crimson velvet embroidered
with mulberry-trees and lions of silver." At the proclamation of the
herald, Hereford sprang upon his horse, and advanced six or seven
paces to meet his adversary. The king upon this suddenly threw down
his warder, and commanded the spears to be taken from the combatants,
and that they should resume their chairs of state. He then ordered
proclamation to be made that the Duke of Hereford had honourably[34]
fulfilled his duty; and yet, without assigning any reason, he
immediately sentenced him to be banished for ten years: at the same
time he condemned the Duke of Norfolk to perpetual exile, adding also
the confiscation of his property, except only one thousand pounds by
the year. This act of tyranny towards Bolinbroke,[35] contrary, (p. 031)
as the chroniclers say, to the known laws and customs of the realm, as
well as to the principles of common justice, led by direct consequence
to the subversion of Richard's throne, and probably to his premature
death.
[Footnote 31: Rot. Parl. 21 Rich. II. & Rot. Cart.]
[Footnote 32: It is curious to find that when Henry
V. met his intended bride Katharine of France, the
tent prepared for him by her mother the Queen, was
composed of blue and green velvet, and embroidered
with the figures of antelopes.]
[Footnote 33: The Duke of Hereford's armour was
exceedingly costly and splendid. He had sent to
Italy to procure it on purpose for that day; he
spared no expense in its preparation; and it was
forwarded to him by the Duke of Milan.]
[Footnote 34: "Rex proclamari fecit quod Dux
Herefordiæ debitum suum honorificè
adimplesset."--Wals. 356.]
[Footnote 35: The "Chronicle of London" asserts
that Richard sought and obtained from the Pope of
Rome a confirmation of his statutes and ordinances
made at this time.]
Whilst however the people sympathized with the Duke of Hereford, and
reproached the King for his rashness, as impolitic as it was
iniquitous, they seemed to view in the sentence of the Duke of
Norfolk, the visitation of divine justice avenging on his head the
cruel murder of the Duke of Gloucester. It was remarked (says
Walsingham) that the sentence was passed on him by Richard on the very
same day of the year on which, only one twelvemonth before, he had
caused that unhappy prince to be suffocated in Calais.
CHAPTER II. (p. 032)
HENRY TAKEN INTO THE CARE OF RICHARD. -- DEATH OF JOHN OF GAUNT. --
HENRY KNIGHTED BY RICHARD IN IRELAND. -- HIS PERSON AND MANNERS. --
NEWS OF BOLINBROKE'S LANDING AND HOSTILE MEASURES REACHES
IRELAND.--INDECISION AND DELAY OF RICHARD. -- HE SHUTS UP HENRY AND
THE YOUNG DUKE OF GLOUCESTER IN TRYM CASTLE. -- REFLECTIONS ON THE
FATE OF THESE TWO COUSINS -- OF BOLINBROKE -- RICHARD -- AND THE
WIDOWED DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER.
1398-1399.
The first years of Henry of Monmouth fall, in part at least, as we
have seen, within the province of conjecture rather than of authentic
history: and the facts for reasonable conjecture to work upon are much
more scanty with regard to this royal child, than we find to be the
case with many persons far less renowned, and still further removed
from our day. But from the date of his father's banishment, very few
months in any one year elapse without supplying some clue, which
enables us to trace him step by step through the whole career of his
eventful life, to the very last day and hour of his mortal existence.
His father's exile dates from October 13, 1398, when Henry had just
concluded his eleventh year. Whether up to that time he had been (p. 033)
living chiefly in his father's house, or with his grandfather John of
Gaunt, or with his maternal grandmother, or with his uncle Henry
Beaufort either at Oxford or elsewhere, we have no positive evidence.
John of Gaunt did not die till the 3rd of the following February, and
he would, doubtless, have taken his grandson under his especial care,
at all events on his father's banishment, probably assigning Henry
Beaufort to be his tutor and governor. But when Richard sentenced
Henry of Bolinbroke, he was too sensible of his own injustice, and too
much alive, in this instance at least, to his own danger, to suffer
Henry of Monmouth to remain at large. One of the most ancient, and
most widely adopted principles of tyranny, pronounces the man "to be a
fool, who when he makes away with a father, leaves the son in power to
avenge his parent's wrongs." Accordingly Richard took immediate
possession of the persons both of the son of the murdered Duke of
Gloucester, and of Henry of Monmouth, of whose relatives, as the
chroniclers say, he had reason to be especially afraid.
John of Gaunt, we may conclude, now disabled as he was, by those
infirmities[36] which hastened him to the grave[37] more rapidly than
the mere progress of calm decay, could exert no effectual means (p. 034)
either of sheltering his son from the unjust tyrant who sentenced him
to ten years banishment from his native land, or of rescuing his
grandson from the close custody of the same oppressor. Still the very
name of that renowned duke must have put some restraint upon his royal
nephew. The lion had yet life, and might put forth one dying effort,
if the oppression were carried past his endurance; and it might have
been thought well to let him linger and slumber on, till nature should
have struggled with him finally. We find, consequently, that though
before Bolinbroke's departure from England Richard had remitted four
years of his banishment, as a sort of peace-offering perhaps to John
of Gaunt, no sooner was that formidable person dead, than Richard,
throwing off all semblance of moderation, exiled Bolinbroke for life,
and seized and confiscated his property.[38]
[Footnote 36: See the Remains of Thomas Gascoyne, a
contemporary writer. Brit. Mus. 2 I. d. p. 530.]
[Footnote 37: John of Gaunt died on the 3rd of
February 1399, at the house of the Bishop of Ely in
Holborn. Will. Worc.]
[Footnote 38: Two candelabra which belonged to
Henry Duke of Lancaster, were presented by Richard
to the abbot and convent of Westminster, 30th June
1399.--Pell Rolls. He also granted to Catherine
Swynford, the late duke's widow, some of the
possessions which she had enjoyed before, but which
had fallen into the king's hands by the
confiscation of the present duke's property.--Pat.
22 Ric. II. Froissart expressly says, that Richard
confiscated Bolinbroke's estates, and divided them
among his own favourites. He acquaints us,
moreover, with an act of cruel persecution and
enmity on the part of Richard, which must have
rendered Bolinbroke's exile far more galling, and
have exasperated him far more bitterly against his
persecutor. Richard, says Froissart, sent Lord
Salisbury over to France on express purpose to
break off the contemplated marriage between
Bolinbroke and the daughter of the Duke of Berry,
in the presence of the French court calling him a
false and wicked traitor. Ed. 1574. Vol. iv. p.
290.]
Though Richard behaved towards Bolinbroke with such reckless (p. 035)
injustice, he does not appear to have been forgetful of his wants
during his exile. Within two months of the date of his banishment the
Pell Rolls record payment (14 November 1398) "of a thousand marks to
the Duke of Hereford, of the King's gift, for the aid and support of
himself, and the supply of his wants, on his retirement from England
to parts beyond the seas assigned for his sojourn." And on the 20th of
the following June payment is recorded of "1586_l._ 13_s._ 4_d._ part
of the 2000_l._ which the king had granted to him, to be advanced
annually at the usual times." But this was a poor compensation for the
honours and princely possessions of the Dukedom of Lancaster, and the
comforts of his home. No wonder if he were often found, as historians
tell, in deep depression of spirits, whilst he thought of "his four
brave boys, and two lovely daughters," now doubly orphans.
The plan of this work does not admit of any detailed enumeration of
the exactions, nor of any minute inquiry into the violence and
reckless tyranny of Richard. It cannot be doubted that a long series
of oppressive measures at this time alienated the affections of many
of his subjects, and exposed his person and his throne to the (p. 036)
attacks of proud and powerful, as well as injured and insulted
enemies. His conduct appears to evince little short of infatuation. He
was determined to act the part of a tyrant with a high hand, and he
defied the consequences of his rashness. He had stopped his ears to
sounds which must have warned him of dangers setting thick around him
from every side; and he had wilfully closed his eyes, and refused to
look towards the precipice whither he was every day hastening.[39] He
rushed on, despising the danger, till he fell once, and for ever. The
murder of the Duke of Gloucester, involving on the part of the king
one of the most base and cold-hearted pieces of treachery ever
recorded of any ruthless tyrant, had filled the whole realm with
indignation; and chroniclers do not hesitate to affirm that Richard
would have been then deposed and destroyed, had it not been for the
interposition of John of Gaunt; and now the eldest son of that very
man, who alone had sheltered him from his people's vengeance, Richard
banishes for ever without cause, confiscating his princely estates,
and pursuing him with bitter and insulting vengeance even in his
exile.
[Footnote 39: The chroniclers give us an idea of
expense in Richard both about his person, his
houses, and his presents, which exceeds belief.
Both the Monk of Evesham and the author of the
Sloane Manuscript speak of a single robe which cost
thirty thousand marks.]
If his own reason had not warned him beforehand against such (p. 037)
self-destroying acts of iniquity and violence, yet the signs of the
popular feeling which followed them, would have recalled any but an
infatuated man to a sense of the danger into which he was plunging.
When Henry of Bolinbroke left London for his exile, forty thousand
persons are said to have been in the streets lamenting his fate; and
the mayor, accompanied by a large body of the higher class of
citizens, attended him on his way as far as Dartford; and some never
left him till they saw him embark at Dover.[40] But to all these clear
and strong indications of the tone and temper of his subjects, Richard
was obstinately blind and deaf. If he heard and saw them, he hardened
himself against the only practical influence which they were
calculated to produce. Setting the approaching political storm, and
every moral peril, at defiance, he quitted England just as though he
were leaving behind him contented and devoted subjects.
[Footnote 40: Froissart tells us that Bolinbroke
was much beloved in London. He represents also his
reception in France to have been most cordial;
every city opening its gates to welcome him.--See
Froissart, vol. iv. p. 280.]
Having assigned Wallingford Castle for the residence of his Queen
Isabel, he departed for Ireland about the 18th of May; but did not set
sail from Milford Haven till the 29th; he reached Waterford on the
last day of the month. Though Richard[41] was prompted solely by (p. 038)
reasons of policy and by a regard to his own safety to take with him
to Ireland Henry of Monmouth, (together with Humphrey, son of the
murdered Duke of Gloucester,) we should do him great injustice were we
to suppose that he treated him as an enemy.[42] On the contrary, we
have reason to believe that he behaved towards him with great kindness
and respect.[43]
[Footnote 41: Froissart says that Richard sent
expressly both to Northumberland and Hotspur,
requiring their attendance in his expedition to
Ireland; that they both refused; and that he
banished them the realm. Vol. iv. p. 295.]
[Footnote 42: March 5, 1399, the Pell Rolls record
the payment of "10_l._ to Henry, son of the Duke of
Hereford, in part payment of 500_l._ yearly, which
our present lord the King has granted to be paid
him at the Exchequer during pleasure." Twenty
pounds also were paid to him on the 21st of the
preceding February.]
[Footnote 43: Whether as a measure of security, or
on a principle of kind considerateness for Henry of
Monmouth, when Richard left England he took with
him Henry Beaufort, (Pat. p. 3. 22 Ric. II, n.
11.): though it is curious to remark that when on
his return to England he left Henry of Monmouth in
Trym Castle, we find Henry Beaufort in the company
of Richard.]
About midsummer the king advanced towards the country and strong-holds
of Macmore, his most formidable antagonist. On the opening of that
campaign he conferred upon young Henry the order of knighthood;[44]
and wishing to signalize this mark of the royal favour with unusual
celebrity, he conferred on that day the same distinction (expressly
in honour of Henry) upon ten others his companions in arms. The (p. 039)
particulars of this transaction, and the details of the entire
campaign against the Wild Irish, as they were called, are recorded in
a metrical history by a Frenchman named Creton, who was an eye-witness
of the whole affair. This gentleman had accepted the invitation of a
countryman of his own, a knight, to accompany him to England. On their
arrival in London they found the king himself in the very act of
starting for Ireland, and thither they went in his company as
amateurs.
[Footnote 44: In 1379, his grandfather John of
Gaunt required aid of his tenants towards making
his eldest son, Henry of Bolinbroke, a knight.]
This writer thus describes[45] the courteous act and pledge of
friendship bestowed by Richard on his youthful companion and prisoner,
recording, with some interesting circumstances, the very words of
knightly and royal admonition with which the distinguished honour was
conferred. "Early on a summer's morning, the vigil of St. John, the
King marched directly to Macmore[46], who would neither submit, (p. 040)
nor obey him in any way, but affirmed that he was himself the rightful
king of Ireland, and that he would never cease from war and the
defence of his country till death. Then the King prepared to go into
the depths of the deserts in search of him. For his abode is in the
woods, where he is accustomed to dwell at all seasons; and he had with
him, according to report, 3000 hardy men. Wilder people I never saw;
they did not appear to be much dismayed at the English. The whole host
were assembled at the entrance of the deep woods; and every one put
himself right well in his array: for it was thought for the time that
we should have battle; but I know that the Irish did not show
themselves on this occasion. Orders were then given by the King that
every thing around should be set fire to. Many a village and house
were then consumed. While this was going on, the King, who bears
leopards in his arms, caused a space to be cleared on all sides, and
pennon and standards to be quickly hoisted. Afterwards, out of true
and entire affection, he sent for the son of the Duke of Lancaster, a
_fair young and handsome bachelor_,[47] and knighted him, saying, 'My
fair cousin, henceforth be gallant and bold, for, unless you conquer,
you will have little name for valour.' And for his greater honour and
satisfaction, to the end that it might be better imprinted on his
memory, he made eight or ten other knights; but indeed I do not (p. 041)
know what their names were, for I took little heed about the matter,
seeing that melancholy, uneasiness and care had formed, and altogether
chosen my heart for their abode, and anxiety had dispossessed me of
joy."
[Footnote 45: M. Creton's Metrical History is
translated from a beautifully illuminated copy, in
the British Museum, by the Rev. John Webb, who has
enriched it with many valuable notes and
dissertations, historical, biographical, &c. It
forms part of the twentieth volume of the
Archæologia. M. Creton confesses himself to have
been thrown into a terrible panic on the approach
of danger, more than once: and probably he was in
higher esteem in the hall among the guests for his
minstrelsy and song, than in the battle-field for
his prowess.]
[Footnote 46: The sons of this Irish chief,
Macmore, or Macmorgh, or Mac Murchard, were
hostages in England, May 3, 1399.--Pell Rolls.]
[Footnote 47: The term _bachelor_ signified, in the
language of chivalry, a young gentleman not yet
knighted.]
The English suffered much from hunger and fatigue during this
expedition in search of the archrebel, and after many fruitless
attempts to reduce him, reached Dublin, where all their sufferings
were forgotten in the plenty and pleasures of that "good city."
* * * * *
The day on which Richard conferred upon Henry so distinguished a mark
of his regard and friendship, offering the first occasion on which any
reference is made to his personal appearance and bodily constitution,
the present may, perhaps, be deemed an appropriate place for recording
what we may have been able to glean in that department of biographical
memoir with which few, probably, are inclined to dispense.
M. Creton, in his account of this memorable knighthood, represents
Henry as "a handsome young bachelor," then in his twelfth year; and
very little further, of a specific character, is recorded by his
immediate contemporaries. The chroniclers next in succession describe
him as a man of "a spare make, tall, and well-proportioned,"
"exceeding," says Stow, "the ordinary stature of men;" beautiful (p. 042)
of visage, his bones small: nevertheless he was of marvellous strength,
pliant and passing swift of limb; and so trained was he to feats of
agility by discipline and exercise, that with one or two of his lords
he could, on foot, readily give chase to a deer without hounds, bow,
or sling, and catch the fleetest of the herd. By the period of his
early youth he must have outgrown the weakness and sickliness of his
childhood, or he could never have endured the fatigues of body and
mind to which he was exposed through his almost incessant campaigns
from his fourteenth to his twentieth year. These hardships, nevertheless,
may have been all the while sowing the seeds of that fatal disease
which at the last carried him so prematurely from the labours, and
vexations, and honours of this world.[48]
[Footnote 48: Fuller, in his Church History, thus
speaks of him, mingling with his description,
however, the verification of the proverb, "An ill
youth may make a good man," a maxim far less true
(though far more popular) than one of at least
equally remote origin, "Like sapling, like oak." He
was "one of a strong and active body, neither
shrinking in cold nor slothful in heat, going
commonly with his head uncovered; the wearing of
armour was no more cumbersome to him than a cloak.
He never shrunk at a wound, nor turned away his
nose for ill savour, nor closed his eyes for smoke
or dust; in diet, none less dainty or more
moderate; his sleep very short, but sound;
fortunate in fight, and commendable in all his
actions."]
With regard to his habits of social intercourse, his powers of
conversation, the disposition and bent of his mind when he mingled (p. 043)
with others, whether in the seasons of public business, or the more
private hours of retirement and relaxation, (whilst the never-ending
tales of his dissipation among his unthrifty reckless playmates are
reserved for a separate inquiry,) a few words only will suffice in
this place. In addition to the testimony of later authors, the records
of contemporaneous antiquity, sometimes by direct allusion to him,
sometimes incidentally and as it were undesignedly, lead us to infer
that he was a distinguished example of affability and courteousness;
still not usually a man of many words; clear in his own conception of
the subject of conversation or debate, and ready in conveying it to
others, yet peculiarly modest and unassuming in maintaining his
opinion, listening with so natural an ease and deference, and kindness
to the sentiments and remarks and arguments of others, as to draw into
a close and warm personal attachment to himself those who had the
happiness to be on terms of familiarity with him. Certainly the
unanimous voice of Parliament ascribed to him, when engaged in the
deeper and graver discussions involving the interests and welfare of
the state, qualities corresponding in every particular with these
representations of individual chroniclers. The glowing, living
language of Shakspeare seems only to have recommended by becoming and
graceful ornament, what had its existence really and substantially in
truth.
Hear him but reason in divinity, (p. 044)
And, all-admiring, with an inward wish
You would desire the King were made a prelate:
Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs,
You would say, it hath been all-in-all his study:
List his discourse in war, and you shall hear
A fearful battle render'd you in music:
Turn him to any cause of policy,
The Gordian knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter; that, when he speaks,
The air, a charter'd libertine, is still,
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears,
To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences.
Soon after Richard reached Dublin, the Duke of Albemarle, Constable of
England, arrived with a large fleet, and with forces all ready for a
campaign: but he came too late for any good purpose, and better had it
been for Richard had he never come at all. His advice was the king's
ruin. Richard with his army passed full six weeks in Dublin, in the
free enjoyment of ease and pleasure, altogether ignorant of the
terrible reverse which awaited him. In consequence of the
uninterrupted prevalence of adverse winds, his self-indulgence was
undisturbed by the news which the first change of weather was destined
to bring. Through the whole of this momentous crisis the weather was
so boisterous that no vessel dared to brave the tempest. On the return
of a quiet sea, a barge arrived at Dublin upon a Saturday, laden with
the appalling tidings that Henry, Duke of Lancaster, had returned from
exile and was carrying all before him; supported by Richard's (p. 045)
most powerful subjects, now in open rebellion against his authority;
and encouraged by the Archbishop, who in the Pope's name preached
plenary absolution and a place in paradise to all who would assist the
duke to recover his just rights from his unjust sovereign. The King
grew pale at this news, and instantly resolved to return to England on
the Monday following. But the Duke of Albemarle advised that unhappy
monarch, fatally for his interests, to remain in Ireland till his
whole navy could be gathered; and in the mean time[49] to send over
the Earl of Salisbury. That nobleman departed forthwith, (Richard
solemnly promising to put to sea in six days,) and landed at Conway,
"the strongest and fairest town in Wales."
[Footnote 49: M. Creton, the author of the Metrical
History, acceded to the earnest request of the Earl
of Salisbury to accompany him, for the sake of his
minstrelsy and song. From the day of his departure
from Dublin his knowledge of public affairs, as far
as they are immediately connected with Henry of
Monmouth, ceases almost, if not altogether. He must
no longer be followed implicitly; whatever he
relates of the intervening circumstances till
Richard himself came to Conway, he must have
derived from hearsay. In one circumstance too
afterwards he must have been mistaken, when he says
the Duke of Lancaster committed Richard at Chester
to the safe keeping of _the son of the Duke of
Gloucester_ and the son of the Earl of Arundel, at
least if Humfrey be the young man he means. Stow
and others follow him here, but, as it should seem,
unadvisedly.]
Either before the Earl of Salisbury's departure, or as is the more
probable, towards the last of those eighteen days through which (p. 046)
afterwards, to the ruin of his cause, Richard wasted his time (the
only time left him) in Ireland, he sent for Henry of Monmouth, and
upbraided him with his father's treason. Otterbourne minutely records
the conversation which is said then to have passed between them.
"Henry, my child," said the King, "see what your father has done to
me. He has actually invaded my land as an enemy, and, as if in regular
warfare, has taken captive and put to death my liege subjects without
mercy and pity. Indeed, child, for you individually I am very sorry,
because for this unhappy proceeding of your father you must perhaps be
deprived of your inheritance." 'To whom Henry, though a boy, replied
in no boyish manner,' "In truth, my gracious king and lord, I am
sincerely grieved by these tidings; and, as I conceive, you are fully
assured of my innocence in this proceeding of my father."--"I know,"
replied the King, "that the crime which your father has perpetrated
does not attach at all to you; and therefore I hold you excused of it
altogether."
Soon after this interview the unfortunate Richard set off from Dublin
to return to his kingdom, which was now passing rapidly into other
hands: but his two youthful captives, Henry of Monmouth, and Humfrey,
son of the late Duke of Gloucester, he caused to be shut up in the
safe keeping of the castle of Trym.[50] From that day, which must have
been somewhere about the 20th of August, till the following (p. 047)
October,[51] when he was created Prince of Wales in a full assembly of
the nobles and commons of England, we have no direct mention made of
Henry of Monmouth. That much of the intervening time was a season of
doubt and anxiety and distress to him, we have every reason to
believe. Though he had been previously detained as a hostage, yet he
had been treated with great kindness; and Richard, probably inspiring
him with feelings of confidence and attachment towards himself, had
led him to forget his father's enemy and oppressor in his own personal
benefactor and friend. Richard had now left him and his cousin (a
youth doubly related to him) as prisoners in a solitary castle far
from their friends, and in the custody of men at whose hands they
could not anticipate what treatment they might receive. How long they
remained in this state of close and, as they might well deem it,
perilous confinement, we do not learn. Probably the Duke of Lancaster,
on hearing of Richard's departure from Dublin, sent off immediately to
release the two captive youths; or at the latest, as soon as he had
the unhappy king within his power. On the one hand it may be (p. 048)
argued that had Henry of Monmouth joined his father before the
cavalcade reached London, so remarkable a circumstance would have been
noticed by the French author, who accompanied them the whole way. On
the other hand we learn from the Pell Rolls that a ship was sent from
Chester to conduct him to London, though the payment of a debt does
not fix the date at which it was incurred.[52] We may be assured no
time was lost by the Duke, by those whom he employed, or by his son;
at all events that Henry was restored to his father at Chester (a
circumstance which would be implied had Richard there been consigned
to the custody of young Humphrey), is not at all in evidence. The far
more reasonable inference from what is recorded is, that Humphrey, his
young fellow-prisoner and companion, and near relative and friend, was
snatched from him by sudden death at the very time when Providence
seemed to have opened to him a joyous return to liberty and to his
widowed mother. There is no reason to doubt that the news of Richard's
captivity, and the Duke of Lancaster's success, reached the two
friends whilst prisoners in Trym Castle; nor that they were both
released, and embarked together for England. Where they were when (p. 049)
the hand of death separated them is not certainly known. The general
tradition is, that poor Humphrey had no sooner left the Irish coast
than he was seized by a fever, or by the plague, which carried him off
before the ship could reach England. But whether he landed or not,
whether he had joined the Duke or not before the fatal malady attacked
him, there is no doubt that his death followed hard upon his release.
His mother, the widowed duchess of his murdered father, who had
moreover never been allowed the solace of her child's company, now
bereft of husband and son, could bear up against her affliction no
longer. On hearing of her desolate state, excessive grief overwhelmed
her; and she fell sick and died.[53]
[Footnote 50: The castle of Trym, though described
by Walsingham as a strong fort, was in so
dilapidated a state, that, in 1402, the council, in
taking the King's pleasure about its repairs,
represent it as on the point of falling into
ruins.]
[Footnote 51: M. Creton expressly states that Henry
IV. made Henry of Monmouth Prince of Wales on the
day of his election to the throne, the first
Wednesday in October; but in this he is not borne
out by authority.]
[Footnote 52: 1401, March 5, "To Henry Dryhurst of
West Chester, payment for the freightage of a ship
to Dublin: also for sailing to the same place and
back again, to conduct the lord the Prince, the
King's son, from Ireland to England; together with
the furniture of a chapel and ornaments of the
same, which belonged to King Richard."]
[Footnote 53: Her death took place on the 3rd
October 1399, four days after the accession of
Henry IV. On the 6th of the preceding May the Pell
Rolls record payment of the residue of 155_l._
11_s._ 8_d._ to Alianore de Bohun, Duchess of
Gloucester, for the maintenance of a master, twelve
chaplains, and eight clerks, appointed to perform
divine service in the College of Plecy.]
It is impossible to contemplate these two youthful relatives setting
out from the prison doors full of joy, and happy auguries, and mutual
congratulations, in health and spirits, panting for their dearest
friends,--one going to a princedom, and a throne, and a brilliant
career of victories, the other to disease and death,--without being
impressed with the wonderful acts of an inscrutable Providence, with
the ignorance and weakness of man, and with the resistless will (p. 050)
of the merciful Ruler of man's destinies. Even had young Humphrey
foreseen his dissolution, then so nigh at hand, as the gates of Trym
Castle opened for their release, he might well have addressed his
companion in words once used by the prince of Grecian philosophers at
the close of his defence before the court who condemned him. "And now
we are going, I indeed to death, you to life; to which of the two is
the better fate assigned is known only to God!"[54]
[Footnote 54: Socrates, in his Defence before his
Judges.]
Since this page was first written, the Author has been led to examine
the Pell Rolls;[55] and he is induced to confess that, independently
of the full confirmation afforded by those original documents to
numberless facts referred to in these Memoirs, many an interesting
train of thought is suggested by the inspection of them. The bare and
dry entries of one single roll at the period now under consideration,
bring with them to his mind associations of a truly affecting,
serious, and solemn character. The very last roll of Richard II. by
the merest details of expenditure records the payment of sums made by
that unhappy monarch to Bolinbroke, then in exile, expatriated by his
unjust and wanton decree; to Humphrey, the orphan son of the late (p. 051)
murdered Duke of Gloucester; to Henry of Monmouth his cousin, both
then in Richard's safe keeping; and to Eleanor, the widowed mother of
Humphrey, and maternal aunt of Henry. Can any event paint in deeper
and stronger colouring the vicissitudes and reverses of mortality,
"the changes and chances" of our life on earth? Before the scribe had
filled the next half-year's roll, (now lying with it side by side, and
speaking like a monitor from the grave to high and low, rich and poor,
prince and peasant alike,)--of those five persons, Richard had lost
both his crown and his life; Bolinbroke had mounted the throne from
which Richard had fallen; Henry of Monmouth had been created Prince of
Wales, and was hailed as heir apparent to that throne; his cousin
Humphrey, once the companion of his imprisonment, and the sharer of
his anticipations of good or ill, had been carried off from this world
by death at the very time of his release; and the broken-hearted
Eleanor, (the root and the branch of her happiness now gone for ever,)
unable to bear up against her sorrows, had sunk under their weight
into her grave![56]
[Footnote 55: May 2nd & 6th, 1399, payments are
recorded to both these boys of different sums to
purchase dresses, and coat-armour, &c. preparatory
to their voyage to Ireland in company with the
King.]
[Footnote 56: Perhaps the sentiments of this
afflicted noble lady's will may be little more than
words of course; but, coming from her as they did a
few days only before the news of her son's death
paralyzed her whole frame, they appear peculiarly
appropriate: "Observing and considering the
mischances and uncertainties of this changeable and
transitory world." The will bears date August 9,
1399.]
CHAPTER III. (p. 052)
PROCEEDINGS OF BOLINBROKE FROM HIS INTERVIEW WITH ARCHBISHOP ARUNDEL,
IN PARIS, TO HIS MAKING KING RICHARD HIS PRISONER. -- CONDUCT OF
RICHARD FROM THE NEWS OF BOLINBROKE'S LANDING. -- TREACHERY OF
NORTHUMBERLAND. -- RICHARD TAKEN BY BOLINBROKE TO LONDON.
1398-1399.
Whether Henry of Monmouth met his father and the cavalcade at Chester,
or joined them on their road to London, or followed them thither;
whether he witnessed on the way the humiliation and melancholy of his
friend, and the triumphant exaltation of his father, or not; every
step taken by either of those two chieftains through the eventful
weeks which intervened between King Richard making the youth a knight
in the wilds of Ireland, and King Henry creating him Prince of Wales
in the face of the nation at Westminster, bears immediately upon his
destinies. And the whole complicated tissue of circumstances then in
progress is so inseparably connected with him both individually and as
the future monarch of England, that a brief review of the proceedings
as well of the falling as of the rising antagonist seems (p. 053)
indispensable in this place.
* * * * *
Henry Bolinbroke (having now, by the death of John of Gaunt,[57]
succeeded to the dukedom of Lancaster,) found himself, during his
exile, far from being the only victim of Richard's rash despotism; nor
the only one determined to try, if necessary, and when occasion should
offer, by strength of hand to recover their lost country, together
with their property and their homes. Indeed, others proved to have (p. 054)
been far more forward in that bold measure than himself. Whilst he was
in Paris[58], he received by the hands of Arundel, Archbishop of
Canterbury, an invitation to return, and set up his standard in their
native land. Arundel,[59] himself one of Richard's victims, had been
banished two years before the Duke, by a sentence which confiscated[60]
all his property. He made his way, we are told, to Valenciennes in the
disguise of a pilgrim, and, proceeding to Paris, obtained an interview
with Henry; whom he found at first less sanguine perhaps, and less (p. 055)
ready for so desperate an undertaking, than he expected. The Duke for
some time remained, apparently, absorbed in deep thought, as he leaned
on a window overlooking a garden; and at length replied that he would
consult his friends. Their advice, seconding the appeal of the Archbishop,
prevailed upon Henry to prepare for the hazardous enterprise; in which
success might indeed be rewarded with the crown of England, over and
above the recovery of his own vast possessions, but in which defeat
must lead inevitably to ruin. He left Paris for Brittany; and sailing
from one of its ports with three ships, having in his company only
fifteen lances or knights, he made for the English coast.[61] About
the 4th of July he came to shore at the spot where of old time had (p. 056)
stood the decayed town of Ravenspur. Landing boldly though with such a
handful of men, he was soon joined by the Percies, and other powerful
leaders; and so eagerly did the people flock to him as their deliverer
from a headstrong reckless despot, that in a short time he numbered as
his followers sixty thousand men, who had staked their property, their
liberty, and their lives, on the same die. The most probable account
of his proceedings up to his return to Chester, immediately before the
unfortunate Richard fell into his hands, is the following, for which
we are chiefly indebted to the translator of the "Metrical
History."[62]
[Footnote 57: Froissart relates, in a very lively
manner, how the English nobility amused themselves
in devising the probable schemes by which
Bolinbroke might dispose of himself during his
exile. "He is young, said they, and he has already
travelled enough, in Prussia, and to the Holy
Sepulchre, and St. Katharine: he will now take
other journeys to cheat the time. Go where he will,
he will be at home; he has friends in every
country."
The same author tells us that forty thousand
persons accompanied him on his exile, not with
music and song, but with sighs and tears and
lamentations; and that on Gaunt's death the people
of England "spoke much and loudly of Derby's
return,--especially the Londoners, who loved him a
hundred times more than they did the King. The
Earl, he says, heard of the death of his father,
even before the King of France, though Richard had
posted off the event to that monarch as joyful
tidings. He put himself and his household in deep
mourning, and caused the funeral obsequies to be
solemnized with much grandeur. The King, the Duke
of Orleans, and very many nobles and prelates were
present at the solemnity, for the Earl was much
beloved by them all, and they deeply sympathized
with his grief, for he was an agreeable knight,
well-bred, courteous, and gentle to every one."]
[Footnote 58: Froissart gives also a very animated
description of the manner in which Bolinbroke was
received by the King of France on his first
arrival, and by the Dukes of Orleans, Brittany,
Burgundy, and Bourbon. The meeting, he says, was
joyous on both sides, and they entered Paris in
brilliant array: but Henry was nevertheless very
melancholy, being separated from his family,--four
sons and two daughters.
The author translated by Laboureur, states that
Richard no sooner heard of the welcome which
Bolinbroke met with in France than he sent over a
messenger, praying that court not to countenance
his traitors. He adds, that as soon as Lancaster
was dead, Richard regarded his written engagements
with no greater scruple than he had before observed
his promises by word of mouth.]
[Footnote 59: Leland says that the Archbishop
sojourned, during his exile, at Utrecht (Trajecti).
Froissart is certainly mistaken in relating that
the Londoners sent the Archbishop in a boat down
the Thames with a message to Bolinbroke. It is very
probable that they sent a messenger to the
Archbishop, and through him communicated with their
favourite.]
[Footnote 60: Officers were appointed, 16th October
1397, to seize all lands of Thomas Archbishop of
Canterbury, Thomas Duke of Gloucester, and other
lords.--Pell Rolls. Pat. 1 Hen. IV. m. 8, the
Archbishop's property is restored.]
[Footnote 61: Froissart, who seems to have obtained
very correct information of Bolinbroke's
proceedings up to the time of his embarking on the
French coast for England, but from that hour to
have been altogether misled as to his plans and
circumstances, relates that he left Paris under
colour of paying a visit to the Duke of Brittany;
that he went by the way of D'Estamps (one Guy de
Baigneux acting as his guide); that he stayed at
Blois eight days, where he received a most kind
answer in reply to his message to the Duke, who
gave him a cordial meeting at Nantes. The Duke
promised him a supply of vessels and men to protect
him in crossing the seas, and forwarded him with
all kind sympathy from one of his ports: "and,"
continues Froissart, "I have heard that it was
Vennes." It might have been, perhaps, during this
visit that Henry formed, or renewed, an
acquaintance with the Duchess, to whom, after the
Duke's death, in 1402, he made an offer of his
hand, and was accepted.]
[Footnote 62: See Archæologia, vol. xx. p. 61, note
'h.']
The Duke of Lancaster's first measures, upon his landing, are not very
accurately recorded by historians, nor do the accounts impress us with
an opinion that they had arisen out of any digested plan of operation.
But a comparison of the desultory information which is furnished
relative to them, with what may fairly be supposed to be most
advisable on his part, will, perhaps, show that they were the result
of good calculation. The following is offered as the outline of the
scheme. To secure to Henry a chance of success, it was in the first
instance necessary, not only that the most powerful nobles remaining
at home should join him, but that means should be devised for
detaining the King in Ireland. It would be expedient to try the
disposition of the people on the eastern coast, and that he should (p. 057)
select a spot for his descent, from which he could immediately put
himself in communication with his friends: Yorkshire afforded the
greatest facility. The wind which took Albemarle over into Ireland
must have been advantageous to Lancaster; and the tempestuous weather
which succeeded must have been equally in his favour. He landed at
Ravenspur, and marched to Doncaster, where the Percies and others came
down to him. Knaresborough and Pontefract were his own by inheritance.
Having thus gained a footing, he marched toward the south; and his
opponents withdrew from before him.[63] The council, consisting of the
Regent, Scroop, Bussy, Green, and Bagot, could interpose no obstacle,
and were driven by fear to Bristol. The Duke of York made some show of
resistance. Perhaps the others intended to make for Milford, and
thence to Ireland, or to await the King's arrival. Henry advanced to
Leicester and Kenilworth, both his own castles; and went through
Evesham to Gloucester and Berkeley. At Berkeley he came to an agreement
with the Duke of York, secured many of Richard's adherents, passed on
to Bristol, took the castle, slew three out of four of the unfortunate
ministers, and gained possession of a place entirely disaffected (p. 058)
to the King. From Bristol he directed his course back to Gloucester,
thence bearing westward to Ross and Hereford. Here he was joined by
the Bishop and Lord Mortimer;[64] and, passing through Leominster and
Ludlow, he moved onward,[65] increasing his forces as he advanced
towards Shrewsbury and Chester. In the mean time the plans of Albemarle
(if we acknowledge the reality of his alleged treason) were equally
successful. At all events Richard's course was most favourable for
Henry. Had he gone from Dublin to Chester, he might have anticipated
his enemy, and infused a spirit into his loyal subjects. But he came
southward whilst Henry was going northward; and, about the time that
Richard came on shore at Milford, Henry must have been at Chester,
surrounded by his friends, at the head of an immense force, master of
London, Bristol, and Chester, and of all the fortresses that had been
his own, or had belonged to Richard, within a triangle, the apex of
which is to be found in Bristol, the base extending from the mouth of
the Humber to that of the Dee.
[Footnote 63: Sir James Mackintosh seems to have
been mistaken in supposing that Bolinbroke visited
London on his first march southward. "His march
from London against the few advisers of Richard,
who had forfeited the hope of mercy, was a
triumphant procession."]
[Footnote 64: Monk of Evesham.]
[Footnote 65: He had many castles of his own in
that part of the country, as Monmouth, Grosmont,
Skenfrith, White Castle, &c.]
* * * * *
If in like manner we trace the steps of the misguided and infatuated
Richard, treacherous at once and betrayed, from the hour when the news
of Bolinbroke's hostile and successful measures reached him in (p. 059)
Dublin to the day when he fell powerless into the hands of his enemy,
we shall find much to reprehend; much to pity; little, perhaps
nothing, which can excite the faintest shadow of respect. When the
Earl of Salisbury left Ireland, Richard solemnly promised him that he
would himself put to sea in six days; and the Earl, whose conduct is
marked by devoted zeal and fidelity in the cause of his unfortunate
master, acted upon that pledge. But whether misled by the treacherous
suggestions of Albemarle, or following his own self-will or imbecility
of judgment, Richard allowed eighteen days to pass away before he
embarked, every hour of which was pregnant with most momentous
consequences to himself and his throne. He landed at length at Milford
Haven, and then had with him thirty-two thousand men; but in one night
desertions reduced this body to six thousand. It is said that, on the
morrow after his return, looking from his window on the field where
his forces were encamped overnight, he was panic-struck by the
smallness of the number that remained. After deliberation, he resolved
on starting in the night for Conway, disguised in the garb of a poor
priest of the Friars-Minor, and taking with him only thirteen or
fourteen friends. He so planned his journey as to reach Conway at
break of day, where he found the Earl of Salisbury no less dejected
than himself. That faithful adherent had taken effectual means, (p. 060)
on his first arrival in Wales, to collect an army of Cambrians and
Cheshiremen in sufficient strength, had the King joined them with his
forces, to offer a formidable resistance to Bolinbroke. But, at the
end of fourteen days, despairing of the King's arrival, they had
disbanded themselves, and were scattered over the country, or returned
to their own homes. On his clandestine departure also from Milford,
the wreck of his army, who till then had remained true, were entirely
dispersed: and his great treasure was plundered by the Welshmen, who
are said to have been indignant at the treachery of those who were
left in charge of it. Among many others, Sir Thomas Percy himself
escaped naked and wounded to the Duke of Lancaster.
* * * * *
The page of history which records the proceedings of the two hostile
parties, from the day of Richard's reaching Conway to the hour of his
falling into the hands of Henry, presents in every line transactions
stained with so much of falsehood and baseness, such revolting treachery
and deceit, such wilful deliberate perjury, that we would gladly pass
it over unread, or throw upon it the most cursory glance compatible
with a bare knowledge of the facts. But whilst the desperate wickedness
of the human heart is made to stand out through these transactions in
most frightful colours, and whilst we shudder at the wanton prostitution
of the most solemn ordinances of the Gospel, there so painfully (p. 061)
exemplified, the same page suggests to us topics of gratitude and of
admonition,--gratitude that we live in an age when these shameless
violations of moral and religious bonds would not be tolerated; and
admonition that the principles of integrity and righteousness can
alone exalt a people, or be consistent with sound policy. The truth of
history here stamps the king, the nobleman, the prelate, and the more
humble instruments of the deeds then done, with the indelible stain of
dishonour and falsehood, and a reckless violation of law human and
divine.
The King, believing his case to be desperate, implored his friends to
advise him what course to adopt. At their suggestion he sent off the
Dukes of Exeter and Surrey to remonstrate with Bolinbroke, and to
ascertain his real designs. Meanwhile he retired with his little party
of adherents, not more than sixteen in all, first to Beaumaris; then
to Caernarvon, where he stayed four or five days, living on the most
scanty supply of the coarsest food, and having nothing better to lie
upon than a bed of straw. Though this was a very secure place for him
to await the issue of the present course of events, yet, unable to
endure such privations any longer, he returned to Conway. Henry,
meanwhile, having reduced Holt Castle,[66] and possessed himself (p. 062)
of an immense treasure deposited there by Richard, was bent on
securing the person of that unhappy King. He consequently detained the
two Dukes in Chester Castle; and then, at the suggestion, it is said,
of Arundel, sent off the Earl of Northumberland with an injunction not
to return till either by truce or force he should bring back the King
with him. The Duke, attended by one thousand archers and four hundred
lances, advanced to Flint Castle, which forthwith surrendered to him.
From Flint he proceeded along a toilsome road over mountains and rocks
to Ruddlan, the gates of which were thrown open to him; when he
promised the aged castellan the enjoyment of his post there for life.
Richard knew nothing of these proceedings, and wondered at the absence
of his two noble messengers, who had started for Chester eight days
before. Northumberland, meanwhile, having left his men concealed in
ambush "under the rough and lofty cliffs of a rock," proceeded with
five or six only towards Conway. When he reached the arm[67] of the
sea which washes the walls of that fortress, he sent over a herald,
who immediately obtained permission for his approach. Northumberland,
having reached the royal presence, proposed that the King should
proceed with Bolinbroke amicably to London, and there hold a parliament,
and suffer certain individuals named to be put on their trial. (p. 063)
"I will swear," continued he, "on the body of our Lord, consecrated by
a priest's hand, that Duke Henry shall faithfully observe all that I
have said; for he solemnly pledged it to me on the sacrament when we
parted." Northumberland then withdrew from the royal presence, when
Richard thus immediately addressed his few counsellors: "Fair sirs, we
will grant it to him, for I see no other way. But I swear to you that,
whatever assurance I may give him, he shall be surely put to a bitter
death; and, doubt it not, no parliament shall be held at Westminster.
As soon as I have spoken with Henry, I will summon the men of Wales,
and make head against him; and, if he and his friends be discomfited,
they shall die: some of them I will flay alive." Richard had declared,
before he left Ireland, that if he could but once get Henry into his
power, he "would put him to death in such a manner as that it should
be spoken of long enough, even in Turkey." Northumberland was then
called in; and Richard assured him that, if he would swear upon the
Host, he would himself keep the agreement. "Sire," said the Earl, "let
the body of our Lord be consecrated. I will swear that there is no
deceit in this affair; and that the Duke will observe the whole as you
have heard me relate it here." Each of them heard mass with all
outward devotion, and the Earl took the oath. Never was a contract
made more solemnly, nor with a more fixed purpose on both sides (p. 064)
not to abide by its engagements: it is indeed a dark and painful page
of history. Upon this pledge of faith, mutually given, the King
readily agreed to start, sending the Earl on to prepare dinner at
Ruddlan. No sooner had he reached the top of the rock than he beheld
the Earl and his men below; and, being now made aware of the treachery
by which he had fallen, he sank into despair, and had recourse only to
unmanly lamentations. His company did not amount to more than
five-and-twenty, and retreat was impossible. His remonstrance with the
Earl as he charged him with perjury and treason availed nothing, and
he was compelled to proceed. They dined at Ruddlan, and in the
afternoon advanced to Flint Castle.[68] Northumberland lost no time in
apprising the Duke of the success of his enterprise. The messenger
arrived at Chester by break of day; and the Duke set off with his
army, consisting, it is said, of not less than one hundred thousand
men. After mass, Richard beheld the Duke's army approaching along the
sea-shore. "It was marvellously great, and showed such joy that the
sound and noise of their instruments, horns, buisines, and trumpets,
were heard even as far as the castle." The Duke sent forward the
Archbishop, with two or three more, who approached the King with
profound reverence. In this interview, the first which the King (p. 065)
had with Arundel since he banished him the realm and confiscated
his property, they conversed long together, and alone. Whether any
allusion was then made to the necessity of the King abdicating the
throne, must remain matter of conjecture. The Archbishop (as the Earl
of Salisbury reported) then comforted the King in a very gentle manner,
bidding him not to be alarmed, for no harm should happen to
his person.
[Footnote 66: Some think the castle then taken was
Beeston.]
[Footnote 67: Over this estuary is now thrown a
beautiful suspension-bridge, one of the ornaments
of North Wales.]
[Footnote 68: The author of the Metrical History
has certainly made a mistake here. He says, Duke
Henry started from Chester on Tuesday, August the
22nd; but in 1399 the 22nd day of August was on a
Friday.]
The Duke did not enter the castle till Richard had dined, for he was
fasting. At the table he protracted the repast as long as possible,
dreading what would follow. Dinner ended, he came down to meet the
Duke, who, as soon as he perceived him, bowed very low. The King took
off his bonnet, and first addressed Bolinbroke. The French writer
pledges himself to the words, for, as he says, he heard them
distinctly, and understood them well. "Fair cousin of Lancaster, you
be right welcome." Then Duke Henry replied, bowing very low to the
ground, "My lord, I am come sooner than you sent for me; the reason
whereof I will tell you. The common report of your people is, that you
have for the space of twenty years and more governed them very badly
and very rigorously; and they are not well contented therewith: but,
if it please our Lord, I will help you to govern them better." King
Richard answered, "Fair cousin, since it pleaseth you, it pleaseth me
well."
Upon this Henry, when the time of departure was come, knowing that (p. 066)
Richard was particularly fond of fine horses, is said to have called
out with a stern and savage voice, "Bring out the King's horses;" and
then _they brought him two little horses not worth forty francs_: the
King mounted one, and the Earl of Salisbury the other. If this statement
of the French author be accurate, Henry compelled his king to endure a
studied mortification, as uncalled for as it was galling. Starting
from Flint about two o'clock, they proceeded to Chester,[69] where the
Duke was received with much reverence, whilst the unhappy monarch was
exposed to the insults of the populace. He was immediately lodged in
the castle with his few friends, and committed to the safe keeping[70]
of his enemies. In Chester they remained three days,[71] and then set
out on the direct road for London. Their route lay through (p. 067)
Nantwich, Newcastle-under-Line, Stafford, Lichfield, Daventry, Dunstable,
and St. Alban's. Nothing worthy of notice occurred during the journey,
excepting that at Lichfield the captive monarch endeavoured to escape
at night, letting himself down into a garden from the window of a tower
in which they kept him. He was however discovered, and from that time
was watched most narrowly.
[Footnote 69: Great confusion and unnumbered deeds
of injustice and cruelty prevailed through the
kingdom between the landing of Bolinbroke and his
accession to the throne; some of these outrages
were, doubtless, of a political character, between
the partisans of Richard and the Duke, many others
the result of private revenge and rapine. To put a
stop to these enormities, Richard was advised
(perhaps the more meet expression would be
'compelled') to sign two proclamations, one dated
Chester, August 20; the other Lichfield, August 24.
In these he calls Bolinbroke his very dear
relative.]
[Footnote 70: The Metrical History says, Richard's
keepers were the son of the Duke of Gloucester, and
the son of the Earl of Arundel. The reasons for
doubting this have been already assigned. Humphrey
was probably at that time no longer numbered among
the living.]
[Footnote 71: The question naturally offers itself
here, Might not this delay have been occasioned by
Lancaster's desire not to start before Henry of
Monmouth had returned from Ireland, and joined
him?]
When they arrived within five or six miles of London, they were met by
various companies of the citizens, who carried Richard first to
Westminster, and next day to the Tower. Henry did not accompany him,
but turned aside to enter the city by the chief gate. Proceeding along
Cheapside to St. Paul's amidst the shouts of the people, he advanced
in full armour to the high altar; and, having offered his devotions
there, he turned to the tomb of his father and mother, at the sight of
which he was deeply affected. He lodged the first five or six days in
the Bishop's house; and, having passed another fortnight in the
hospital of St. John without Smithfield, he went to Hertford, where he
stayed three weeks. From that place he returned to meet the
parliament, which was to assemble in Westminster Hall on Wednesday the
first day of October.
CHAPTER IV. (p. 068)
RICHARD RESIGNS THE CROWN. -- BOLINBROKE ELECTED KING. -- HENRY OF
MONMOUTH CREATED PRINCE OF WALES. -- PLOT TO MURDER THE KING. -- DEATH
OF RICHARD. -- FRIENDSHIP BETWEEN HIM AND HENRY. -- PROPOSALS FOR A
MARRIAGE BETWEEN HENRY AND ISABELLA, RICHARD'S WIDOW. -- HENRY APPLIES
FOR AN ESTABLISHMENT. -- HOSTILE MOVEMENT OF THE SCOTS. -- TRADITION,
THAT YOUNG HENRY MARCHED AGAINST THEM, DOUBTED.
1399-1400.
When the Parliament assembled in Westminster Hall on Wednesday,
October 1st, a deed of resignation of the crown, signed by the unhappy
Richard, and witnessed by various noblemen, was publicly read.
Whether, whilst a prisoner in the Tower, his own reflections on the
present desperate state of his affairs had persuaded him to sever
himself from the cares and dangers of a throne; whether he was
prevailed upon to take this view of his interests and his duty by the
honest and kind representations of his friends; or whether any degree
of violence by threat and intimidation, and alarming suggestions of
future evils had been applied, it would be fruitless to inquire. The
instrument indeed itself is couched in terms expressive of most (p. 069)
voluntary and unqualified self-abasement, containing, among others,
such expressions as these: "I do entirely, of my own accord, renounce
and totally resign all kingly dignity and majesty; purely, voluntarily,
simply, and absolutely." On the other hand, if we believe Hardyng,[72]
the Earl of Northumberland asserted in his hearing, that Richard was
forced to resign under fear of death. Probably from his first interview
with the Archbishop in Flint Castle, to the hour before he consented
to execute the deed, his mind had been gradually and incessantly
worked upon by various agents, and different means, short of actual
violence, for the purpose of inducing him to make, ostensibly at
least, a voluntary resignation. He seems more than once to have
received both from Arundel and from Bolinbroke himself an assurance of
personal safety; and he is said to have expressed a hope that "his
cousin would be a kind lord to him."
[Footnote 72: Hardyng's testimony must, on every
subject, be received with much caution. Confessedly
he was a sad example of a time-server; and was
skilled in giving facts a different colouring, just
as they would be the more welcome to those for
whose inspection he was writing. His version of the
same events, when presented to members of the house
of York, varies much from the original work, edited
when a Lancastrian was in the ascendant.]
The accounts which have reached us of the proceedings, from the hour
when Richard entered the Tower, to the day of his death, are by no
means uniform and consistent. The discrepancies however of the (p. 070)
various traditions neither involve any questions of great moment,
nor deeply affect the characters of those who were engaged in the
transactions. Of one point indeed we must make an exception, the cause
and circumstances of Richard's death; which, whether we look to Henry
of Monmouth's previous attachment to him, and the respect which he
industriously and cordially showed to the royal remains immediately
upon his becoming king himself; or whether we reflect on the vast
consequence, affecting Bolinbroke's character, involved in the
solution of that much-agitated question, may seem not only to justify,
but to call for, a distinct examination in these pages. The broad
facts, meanwhile, relative to the deposition of Richard and the
accession of Henry, are clear and indisputable; whilst some minor
details, which have excited discussions carried on in the spirit
rather of angry contention than of the simple love of truth, and which
do not bear immediately upon the objects of this work, may well be
omitted altogether.
After Richard had signed the deed of resignation, the steps were few
and easy which brought Henry of Bolinbroke to the throne. The
Parliament, either by acquiescence in his demand of the crown, or in
answer to the questions put by the Archbishop, elected Henry IV. to be
king, and denounced all as traitors who should gainsay his election
or dispute his right.[73] He was crowned on the Feast of St. (p. 071)
Edward, Monday, October 13, when his eldest son, Henry of Monmouth,
bore the principal sword of state; who, on the Wednesday following, by
assent of all the Estates of Parliament, was created Prince of Wales,
Duke of Cornwall, and Earl of Chester, and declared also to be heir to
the throne.[74] On this occasion his father caused him to be brought
into his presence as he sate upon the throne; and placing a gold
coronet, adorned with pearls, on his head, and a ring on his finger,
and delivering into his hand a golden rod, kissed him and blessed him.
Upon which the Duke of York conducted him to the place assigned to him
in right of his principality. The Estates swore "the same faith,
loyalty, aid, assistance, and fealty" to the Prince, as they had sworn
to his father. Much interest seems to have been excited by this
creation of Henry of Monmouth as Prince of Wales. On the 3rd of
November the "Commons pray that they may be entered on the record (p. 072)
at the election of the Prince." Their petition can scarcely be
interpreted as betraying a jealousy of the King's[75] right to create
a Prince of Wales independently of themselves; we must suppose it to
have originated in a desire to be recorded as parties to an act so
popular and national. At all events, in the then transition-state of
the royal authority, it was wise to combine the suffrages of all: and
the prayer of the Commons was granted. Another petition, presented on
the same day, acquaints us with the lively interest taken from the
very first by the nation at large in the safety and welfare of their
young Prince. They pray the King, "for-as-much as the Prince is of
tender age, that he may not pass forth from this realm: for we, the
Commons, are informed that the Scots are coming with a mighty hand;
and they of Ireland are purposed to elect a king among them, and
disdain to hold of you." This lively interest evinced thus early, and
in so remarkable a manner, by the Commons, in the safety and
well-being of Henry of Monmouth, seems never to have slackened at any
single period of his life, but to have grown still warmer and wider to
the very close of his career on earth. After the date of his creation
as Prince of Wales, history records but few facts relating to him,
either in his private or in his public capacity, till we find him (p. 073)
personally engaged in suppressing the Welsh rebellion; a point of
time, however, far less removed from the commencement of his princedom
than seems to have been generally assumed. In the same month,
(November 1399,) a negociation was set on foot, with the view of
bringing about a marriage between the Prince and one of the daughters
of the King of France. Since, however, he apparently took no part
whatever in the affair, the whole being a state-device to avoid the
restoration to France of Isabella's valuable paraphernalia; and since
the proposals of the treaty were for the marriage of a daughter of
France with the Prince, OR _any other of the King's children_; we need
not dwell on a proceeding which reflects no great credit on his
father, or his father's counsellors.[76] Not that the vague offers of
the negociation stamp the negociators with any especial disgrace. We
cannot read many pages of history without being apprised, sometimes by
painful instances, sometimes by circumstances rather ludicrous than
grave, that marriages were regarded as subjects of fair and honourable
negociation; but requiring no greater delicacy than nations would
observe in bargaining for a line of territory, or individuals in (p. 074)
the purchase and sale of an estate. The negociation, however, though
the Bishop of Durham and the Earl of Worcester, both able diplomatists,
were employed on the part of England, was eventually broken off; and
Isabella was reluctantly and tardily restored to France.
[Footnote 73: M. Creton says (and in this he is
followed by others) that the King, on the very day
of his accession, created his eldest son Prince of
Wales, who in that character stood on the right
hand of the King at the coronation, holding in his
hand a sword without any point, the emblem of peace
and mercy. But in this he seems to have been
partially mistaken. Henry was not created Prince of
Wales till after his father's coronation, and he
bore in right of the Duchy of Lancaster, and by
command of the King, the blunted sword called
Curtana, which belonged to Edward the
Confessor.--Rot. Serv.]
[Footnote 74: In the same Parliament he was
invested also with the titles of Duke of Acquitaine
and Duke of Lancaster.]
[Footnote 75: The Parliament had no voice in the
creation of a dignity. The Lords and Commons were
consulted on this occasion only out of courtesy by
the King.]
[Footnote 76: The proposal, of which Froissart has
left a graphic description, that Isabella, the
widow (if that be the proper designation of the
child who was the espoused wife) of Richard II,
should remain in England and be married to the
Prince of Wales, was not made till after Richard's
death.]
About the close of the present year, or the commencement of the
following (1400), the Prince makes a direct appeal to the council,[77]
that they would forthwith fulfil the expressed desire of his royal
father with reference to his princely state and condition in all
points. He requires them first of all to determine upon his place of
residence, and the sources of his income; and then to take especial
care that the King's officers, each in his own department and post of
duty, should fully and perfectly put into execution whatever orders
the council might give. "You are requested (says the memorial) to
consider how my lord the Prince is utterly destitute of every kind of
appointment relative to his household." The enumeration of his wants
specified in detail is somewhat curious: "that is to say, his
chapels,[78] chambers, halls, wardrobe, pantry, buttery, kitchen, (p. 075)
scullery, saucery, almonry, anointry, and generally all things requisite
for his establishment."
[Footnote 77: Minutes of Privy Council, vol. ii. p.
42.]
[Footnote 78: "Ses chapelles." Under this word were
included not only the place of prayer, but the
books, and vestments, and furniture, together with
the priests, and whatever else was necessary for
divine worship. Indeed, the word has often a still
wider signification. We shall see hereafter that
Henry was always attended by his chapel during his
campaigns in France.]
* * * * *
It has been already intimated in the Preface, that an examination
would be instituted in the course of this work into the correspondence
of Shakspeare's representations of Henry's character and conduct with
the real facts of history, and we will not here anticipate that
inquiry. Only it may be necessary to observe, as we pass on, that the
period of his life when the poet first describes him to be revelling
in the deepest and foulest sinks of riot and profligacy, as nearly as
possible corresponds with the date of this petition to the council to
supply him with a home.
It was in the very first week of the year 1400 that Henry IV.
discovered the treasonable plot, laid by the Lords Salisbury,
Huntingdon, and others, to assassinate him during some solemn justs
intended to be held at Oxford, professedly in honour of his accession.
The King was then at Windsor; and, immediately on receiving
information of the conspiracy, he returned secretly, but with all
speed, to London.[79] The defeat of these treasonable designs, and (p. 076)
the execution of the conspirators, are matter of general history; and,
as the name of the Prince does not occur even incidentally in any
accounts of the transaction, we need not dwell upon it. Probably he
was then living with his father under the superintendence of Henry
Beaufort, now Bishop of Winchester, from whom indeed up to this time
he seems to have been much less separated than from his parent. We
have already seen that, whether for the benefit of the "young bachelor,"
or, with an eye to his own security, unwilling to leave so able an
enemy behind, King Richard, when he took the boy Henry with him to
Ireland, caused his uncle and tutor (Henry Beaufort) to accompany him
also.[80] The probability also has been shown to approach demonstration
that his residence in Oxford could not have taken place at this time;
but that it preceded his father's banishment, rather than followed his
accession to the throne. Be this as it may, history (as far as it
appears) makes no direct mention of the young Prince Henry through the
spring of 1400.
[Footnote 79: Some chroniclers say, that the
conspiracy was made known to the Mayor of London,
who forthwith hastened to the King at Windsor, and
urged him to save himself and his children. The
same pages tell us that John Holland Earl of
Huntingdon was seized and beheaded in Essex by the
Dowager Countess of Hereford.--Sloane MS.]
[Footnote 80: Pat. p. 3, 22 Ric. II.]
Soon, however, after the conspiracy against his father's life had been
detected and frustrated, an event took place, already alluded to, which
must have filled the warm and affectionate heart of Henry with feelings
of sorrow and distress,--the premature death of Richard. That Henry
had formed a sincere attachment for Richard, and long cherished (p. 077)
his memory with gratitude for personal kindness, is unquestionable;
and doubtless it must have been a source of anxiety and vexation to
him that his father was accused in direct terms of having procured the
death of the deposed monarch. He probably was convinced that the
charge was an ungrounded calumny; yet, with his generous indignation
roused by the charge of so foul a crime, he must have mingled feelings
of increased regret at the miserable termination of his friend's life.
The name of Henry of Monmouth has never been associated with Richard's
except under circumstances which reflect credit on his own character.
The bitterest enemies of his house, who scrupled not to charge Henry
IV. with the wilful murder of his prisoner, have never sought to
implicate his son in the same guilt in the most remote degree, or even
by the gentlest whisper of insinuation. Whether Richard died in
consequence of any foul act at the hand of an enemy, or by the fatal
workings of a harassed mind and broken heart, or by self-imposed
abstinence from food, (for to every one of these, as well as to other
causes, has his death been severally attributed,) is a question
probably now beyond the reach of successful inquiry. The whole subject
has been examined by many able and, doubtless, unprejudiced persons;
but their verdicts are far from being in accordance with each other.
The general (though, as it should now seem, the mistaken) opinion
appears to be, that after Richard had been removed from the Tower (p. 078)
to Leeds Castle, and thence to other places of safe custody, and had
finally been lodged in Pontefract,[81] the partisans of Henry IV.
hastened his death. The Archbishop of York directly charged the King
with the foul crime of murder, which he as positively and indignantly
denied.[82] The minutes of the Privy Council have not been sufficiently
noticed by former writers on this event; and the reflections of the
Editor,[83] in his Preface, are so sensible and so immediately to the
point, that we may be contented in these pages to do little more than
record his sentiments.[84]
[Footnote 81: The Pell Rolls contain several
interesting entries connected with this subject.
Payment for a thousand masses to be said for the
soul of Richard, "whose body is buried in Langley."
(20th March, 1400.) Payment also for carrying the
body from Pomfret to London, &c.]
[Footnote 82: See Henry's answer to the Duke of
Orleans, as recorded by Monstrellet, in which he
solemnly appeals to God for the vindication of the
truth.]
[Footnote 83: Sir Harris Nicolas. "Proceedings and
Ordinances of the Privy Council of England."]
[Footnote 84: Mr. Tytler, in his History of
Scotland, maintains with much ingenuity the
paradoxical position, that Richard escaped from
Pontefract, made his way in disguise to the Western
Isles, was there recognised, and was conducted to
the Regent; that, taken into the safe keeping of
the government, and sick of the world and its
disappointments, he lived for many years in
Stirling Castle; and that he there died, and there
was buried. It falls not within the province of
these Memoirs to examine the facts and reasonings
by which that writer supports his theory, or to
weigh the value of the objections which have been
alleged against it. The Author, however, in
confessing that the result of his own inquiries is
opposed to the hypothesis of Richard's escape, and
that he acquiesces in the general tradition that he
died in Pontefract, cannot refrain from making one
remark. Whilst he is persuaded that Glyndowr, and
many others, believed that Richard was alive in
Scotland, yet he thinks it almost capable of
demonstration that Henry IV, with his sons and his
court, in England; and Charles VI, with his court
and clergy, and Isabella herself, and her second
husband, had no doubt whatever as to Richard's
death. If they had, if they were not fully assured
that he was no longer among the living, it is
difficult to understand Henry IV.'s proposals to
Charles VI. for a marriage between Isabella and one
of his sons; or how, on any other hypothesis than
the conviction of his death, the Earl of Angouleme,
afterwards Duke of Orleans, would have sought her
in marriage; how her father and his clergy could
have consented to her nuptials; or how she could
for a moment have entertained the thought of
becoming a bride again. She had not only been
betrothed to Richard, but had been with all
solemnity married to him by the Archbishop of
Canterbury in the face of the church; and she had
been crowned queen. Yet she was married to
Angouleme in 1406, and died in childbed in 1409.
Had she believed Richard to be still alive, she
would have been more inclined to follow the bidding
which Shakspeare puts into her husband's mouth at
their last farewell, than to have given her hand
before the altar to another:
"Hie thee to France,
And cloister thee in some religious house."
Froissart says expressly that the French resolved
to wage war with the English as long as they knew
Richard to be alive; but when certain news of his
death reached them, they were bent on the
restoration of Isabella.]
"Shortly after the attempt of the Earls of Kent, Salisbury, and (p. 079)
Huntingdon to restore Richard to the throne, a great council was held
for the consideration of many important matters. The first point was
'that if Richard the late king be alive, as some suppose he is, (p. 080)
it be ordained that he be well and securely guarded for the salvation
of the state of the King and of his kingdom.' On which subject the
council resolved, that it was necessary to speak to the King, that, in
case Richard the late king be still living, he be placed in security
agreeably to the law of the realm; but if he be dead, then that he be
openly showed to the people, that they may have knowledge thereof."
These minutes (observes Sir Harris Nicolas) appear to exonerate
Henry[85] from the generally received charge of having sent Sir Piers
Exton to Pontefract for the purpose of murdering his prisoner. Had
such been the fact, it is impossible to believe that one of Henry's
ministers would have gone through the farce of submitting the above
question to the council; or that the council would, with still greater
absurdity, have deliberated on the subject, and gravely expressed the
opinion which they offered to the King. A corpse, which was said to be
that of Richard, was publicly exhibited at St. Paul's by Henry's
direction, and he has been accused of substituting the body of some
other person; but these minutes prove that the idea of such an
exposure came from the council, and, at the moment when it was
suggested, they actually did not know whether Richard was dead or
alive, because they provided for either contingency. It is also (p. 081)
demonstrated by them that, so far from any violence or ill-treatment
being meditated in case he were living, the council merely recommended
that he should be placed in such security as might be approved by the
peers of the realm.[86] It must be observed that this new piece of
evidence, coupled with the fact that a corpse said to be the body of
Richard was exhibited shortly after the meeting of the council,
strongly supports the belief that he died about the 14th of February
1400, and that Henry and his council were innocent of having by unfair
means produced or accelerated his decease."
[Footnote 85: It is painful to hear the Church
historian, without any qualifying expression of
doubt or hope, call Henry IV. "the murderer of
Richard."--Milner, cent. xv.]
[Footnote 86: Froissart expressly says, that,
though often urged to it, Henry would never consent
to have Richard put to death.]
Such we may hope to have been the case: at all events, the purpose of
this work does not admit of any fuller investigation of the points at
issue. If Henry were accessory to Richard's death, (to use an
expression quoted as that unhappy king's own words,)[87] "it would be
a reproach to him for ever, so long as the world shall endure, or the
deep ocean be able to cast up tide or wave." It is, however,
satisfactory to find in these authentic documents evidence which seems
to justify us in adopting no other alternative than to return for
Bolinbroke a verdict of "Not guilty." The corpse[88] of Richard was
carried through the city of London to St. Paul's with much of religious
ceremony and solemn pomp, Henry himself as King bearing the pall, (p. 082)
"followed by all those of his blood in fair array." After it had been
inspected by multitudes, (Froissart[89] says by more than twenty
thousand,) it was buried at Langley, where Richard had built a Dominican
convent. Henry V, soon after his accession, removed the corpse to
Westminster Abbey, and, laid it by the side of Ann, Richard's former
queen, in the tomb which he had prepared for her and himself.[90]
[Footnote 87: See Archæologia, xx. 290.]
[Footnote 88: M. Creton.]
[Footnote 89: Froissart asserts that the corpse was
exposed in the street of Cheap to public inspection
for two hours, at the least.]
[Footnote 90: A manuscript in the French King's
library (No. 8448) states that Sir Piers d'Exton
and seven other assassins entered the room to kill
him; but that Richard, pushing down the table,
darted into the midst of them, and, snatching a
battleaxe from one, laid four of them dead at his
feet, when Exton felled him with a blow at the back
of his head, and, as he was crying to God for
mercy, with another blow despatched him. This
account is supposed to be entirely disproved by the
fact that, when Richard's tomb was accidentally
laid open a few years ago in Westminster Abbey, the
head was carefully examined, and no marks of
violence whatever appeared on it. (See Archæologia,
vol. vi. p. 316, and vol. xx. p. 284.) On the other
hand, it is equally obvious to remark, that, if
Henry IV. did exhibit to the people the body of
another person for that of Richard, it was the
substituted body which was buried, first at Langley
and afterwards at Westminster. The absence,
consequently, of all marks of violence on that
body, till its identity with the corpse of Richard
is established, proves nothing. But surely there is
no reason to believe that any deception was
practised. There could have been no motive for such
fraud, and the strongest reasons must have existed
to dissuade Henry from adopting it. The only object
wished to be secured by the exposure of Richard's
corpse, (and it was exposed at all the chief places
between Pontefract and London,--at night after the
offices for the dead, in the morning after mass,)
was the removal of all doubt as to his being really
dead. The false rumours were, not that he was
murdered, but that he was alive. Among the
thousands who flocked to see him were doubtless
numbers of his friends and wellwishers, familiarly
acquainted with his features, many of whom, it is
thought, must have detected any imposture, and some
of whom would surely have been bold enough to
publish it. Still, on the other hand, it is
suggested that a very short lapse of time after
dissolution effects so material a change in a
corpse, that the most intimate of a man's friends
would often not be able to recognise a single
feature in his countenance. And certainly many of
Richard's friends remained unconvinced.]
Henry IV. had no sooner gained the throne of England, than he was made
to feel that he could retain possession of it only by unremitting
watchfulness, and by a vigorous overthrow of each successive (p. 083)
design of his enemies as it arose. In addition as well to the hostility
of France (whose monarch and people were grievously incensed by the
deposition of Richard), as to the restless warfare of the Scots, he
was compelled to provide against the more secret and more dangerous
machinations of his own subjects.[91] After the discovery and defeat
of the plot laid by the malcontent lords in the beginning of January
(1400), he first employed himself in making preparations to repress
the threatened aggressions of his northern neighbours. His council (p. 084)
had received news as early as the 9th of February of the intention of
the Scots to invade England; indeed, as far back as the preceding
November, the petition of the Commons informs us that they considered
war with Scotland inevitable. On this campaign Henry IV. resolved to
enter in his own person, and he left London for the North in the June
following. Our later historians seem not to have entertained any doubts
as to the accuracy of some early chroniclers, when they state that
Henry of Monmouth was sent on towards Scotland as his father's
representative, in command of the advanced guard, in the opening of
the summer[92] of 1400. Elmham states the general fact that Henry was
sent on with the first troops, but in the manuscript there is a
"Quære" in the margin in the same hand-writing. And the querist seems
to have had sufficient reasons for expressing his doubts as to the
accuracy of such a statement. The renown of the Prince as a youthful
warrior will easily account for any premature date assigned to his
earliest campaign; whilst the age of his father, who was seen at the
head of the invading army in Scotland, might perhaps have contributed
to a mistake. The King himself, at that time personally little known
among his subjects, was not more than thirty-four years old.[93] (p. 085)
Be this as it may, we have great reason to believe that Henry IV, when
he proceeded northward, left the Prince of Wales at home. In the first
place, we must remember that, among their primary and most solemn acts
after the King's coronation, the Commons, anticipating the certainty
of this expedition into Scotland, preferred to him a petition, praying
that the Prince by reason of his tender age might not go thither, "nor
elsewhere forth of the realm." The letter too of Lord Grey of Ruthyn,
to which we must hereafter refer, announcing the turbulent state of
Wales, and the necessity of suppressing its disorders with a stronger
hand, can best be explained on the supposition that the King was absent
at the date of that letter,[94] about Midsummer 1400, and that the
Prince was at home. Lord Grey addresses his letter to the Prince, and
not to the King; though the King, as well as the Prince, had commissioned
him to put down the rising disturbances in his neighbourhood.[95] Some,
perhaps, may think this intelligible on the ground that Lord Grey wrote
to Henry as Prince of Wales, and therefore more immediately (p. 086)
intrusted with the preservation of its peace. But his suggestion to
the Prince to take the advice of the King's council,--"with advice of
our liege lord his council,"--is scarcely consistent with the idea of
the King himself being at hand to give the necessary directions and a
"more plainer commission."
[Footnote 91: Chroniclers give an account of an
extraordinary instrument of death laid in Henry's
bed by some secret plotter against his life. The
Sloane Manuscript describes it as a machine like
the engine called the Caltrappe; and the Monk of
Evesham says that it was reported to have been laid
for Henry by one of Isabella's household.]
[Footnote 92: Modern writers have erroneously
referred to this year Monstrelet's account of Henry
of Monmouth's expedition to Scotland.]
[Footnote 93: A curious item in the Pell Rolls (14
December 1401) intimates that Henry IV. amused
himself with the sports of the field, and at the
same time tells us that such amusements were by no
means unexpensive in those days: "Sixteen pounds
paid by the King to Sir Thomas Erpyngham as the
price of a sparrow-hawk."]
[Footnote 94: June 14, he wrote to his council from
Clipstone in Nottinghamshire: July 4th, he was at
York.--Min. Council.]
[Footnote 95: "By our liege Lord his commandment,
and by yours."]
* * * * *
Be this however as it may: whether Henry of Monmouth's noviciate in
arms was passed on the Scotch borders, (for in Ireland, as the
companion of Richard, he had been merely a spectator,) or whether, as
the evidence seems to preponderate, we consider the chroniclers to
have antedated his first campaign, he was not allowed to remain long
without being personally engaged in a struggle of far greater magnitude
in itself, and of vastly more importance to the whole realm of England,
than any one could possibly infer from the brief and cursory references
made to it by the historians who are the most generally consulted by our
countrymen. The rebellion of Owyn Glyndowr[96] is despatched by Hume in
less than two octavo pages, though it once certainly struck a (p. 087)
panic into the very heart of England, and through the whole of Henry
IV.'s reign, more or less, involved a considerable portion of the
kingdom in great alarm; carrying devastation far and wide through some
of its fairest provinces; and at one period of the struggle, by the
succour of Henry's foreign and domestic enemies, with whom the Welsh
made common cause, threatening to wrest the sceptre itself from the
hands of that monarch. The part which his son Henry of Monmouth was
destined to take personally in resisting the progress of this rebellion,
and the evidence which the indisputable facts recorded of that protracted
contest bear to his character, (facts, most of which are comparatively
little known, and many of which are altogether new in history,) seem
to require at our hands a somewhat fuller investigation into the origin,
progress, and circumstances of this rebellion, than has hitherto been
undertaken by our chroniclers.
[Footnote 96: The name of this extraordinary man is
very variously spelt. His Christian name is either
Owyain, or Owen, or Owyn. On his surname the
original documents, as well as subsequent writers,
ring many changes: the etymology of the name is
undoubtedly The Glen of the waters of the Dee, or,
Of the black waters. The name consequently is
sometimes spelt Glyndwffrduy, and Glyndwrdu. In
general, however, it assumes the form in English
documents of Glendor, or Glyndowr: in Henry of
Monmouth's first letter it is Oweyn de Glyndourdy.
In these Memoirs the form generally adhered to is
Owyn Glyndowr. In the record of the Scrope and
Grosvenor controversy, Owyn's name is spelt
Glendore, whilst his brother Tuder's, who was
examined the same day, is written Glyndore.]
CHAPTER V. (p. 088)
THE WELSH REBELLION. -- OWYN GLYNDOWR. -- HIS FORMER LIFE. -- DISPUTE
WITH LORD GREY OF RUTHYN. -- THAT LORD'S LETTER TO PRINCE HENRY. --
HOTSPUR. -- HIS TESTIMONY TO HENRY'S PRESENCE IN WALES, -- TO HIS
MERCY AND HIS PROWESS. -- HENRY'S DESPATCH TO THE PRIVY COUNCIL.
1400-1401.
Previously to the accession of Henry IV, Wales had enjoyed, for nearly
seventy years, a season of comparative security and rest. During the
desperate struggles in the reign of Henry III, in which its inhabitants,
chiefly under their Prince Llewellin, fought so resolutely for their
freedom, many districts of the Principality, especially the border-lands,
had been rendered all but deserts. From this melancholy devastation
they had scarcely recovered, when Queen Isabella, wife of Edward II,
headed the rebel army against her own husband, who had taken refuge in
Glamorganshire; and carried with her the most dreadful of all national
scourges,--a sanguinary civil war. The whole country of South Wales,
we are told, was so miserably ravaged by these intestine horrors, (p. 089)
and the dearth consequent upon them was so excessive, that horses and
dogs became at last the ordinary food of the miserable survivors. From
the accession of Edward III, and throughout his long reign, Wales
seems to have enjoyed undisturbed tranquillity and repose. Its
oppressors were improving their fortunes, rapidly and largely, in
France, reaping a far more abundant harvest in her rich domains than
this impoverished land could have offered to their expectations.
Through the whole reign also of Richard II, we hear of no serious
calamity having befallen these ancient possessors of Britain. A
friendly intercourse seems at that time to have been formed between
the Principality and the kingdom at large; and a devoted attachment to
the person of the King appears to have sprung up generally among the
Welsh, and to have grown into maturity. We may thus consider the
natives of Wales to have enjoyed a longer period of rest and peace
than had fallen to their lot for centuries before, when the deposition
of Richard, who had taken refuge among their strongholds, and in
defence of whom they would have risked their property and their lives,
prepared them to follow any chieftain who would head his countrymen
against the present dynasty, and direct them in their struggle to
throw off the English, or rather, perhaps, the Lancastrian yoke.
The French writer to whom we have so often referred, M. Creton, (p. 090)
in describing the creation of Henry of Monmouth as Prince of Wales,
employs these remarkable words: "Then arose Duke Henry. His eldest
son, who humbly knelt before him, he made Prince of Wales, and gave
him the land; but I think he must conquer it if he will have it: for
in my opinion the Welsh would on no account allow him to be their
lord, for the sorrow, evil, and disgrace which the English, together
with his father, had brought upon King Richard." How correctly this
foreigner had formed an estimate of the feelings and principles of the
Welsh, will best appear from that portion of Henry's life on which we
are now entering. His prediction was fully verified by the event.
Henry of Monmouth was compelled to conquer Wales for himself; and in a
struggle, too, which lasted through an entire third part of his
eventful career.
* * * * *
In accounting for the origin of the civil war in Wales, historians
generally dwell on the injustice and insults committed by Lord Grey of
Ruthyn on Owyn Glyndowr, and the consequent determination of that
resolute chief to take vengeance for the wrongs by which he had been
goaded. Probably the far more correct view is to consider the Welsh at
large as altogether ready for revolt, and the conduct of Lord Grey as
having only instigated Owyn to put himself at their head; at all
events to accept the office of leader, to which, as we are told, his
countrymen[97] elected him. The train was already laid in the (p. 091)
unshaken fidelity of the Welsh to their deposed monarch, whom they
believed to be still alive[98] and in the deadly hatred against all
who had assisted Henry of Lancaster in his act of usurpation; the
spark was supplied by the resentment of a personal injury. His
countrymen were ripe for rebellion, and Owyn was equally ready to
direct their counsels, and to head them in the field of battle.
[Footnote 97: The proceedings of the Welsh, in
detail, at this time, are not found in any
contemporary documents, on the authenticity of
which we may rely. As to the general facts,
however, whether we draw them from the traditions
of the Welsh or the English chroniclers, no
reasonable doubt can be entertained. But the Author
cannot take upon himself the responsibility of
vouching for the truth of the biographical
particulars recorded of Owyn's early life and
adventures, or the measures which he adopted
previously to his breaking out into open revolt,
any more than he can undertake to establish by
proof the genealogy of that chieftain, and trace
him through Llewellin ap Jorwarth to Bleddyn ap
Cynfyn, or the third of the five royal tribes.]
[Footnote 98: It is curious, in point of history,
to observe for how very long a time rumours that
Richard was still alive were industriously spread,
and as greedily received. The royal proclamations
again and again denounced the authors of such false
rumours. In the rebellion of the Percies it was
asserted that Richard was still alive in the Castle
of Chester. In 1406 the Earl of Northumberland
(though he had charged Henry with the murder of
Richard), in his letter to the Duke of Orleans
states the alternative of his being still alive.
And even Sir John Oldcastle, in 1418, when before
the Parliament, protested that he never would
acknowledge that court so long as his liege lord,
Richard, was alive in Scotland.--See Archæologia,
vol. xx. p. 220.]
Owyn Glyndowr was no upstart adventurer. He was of an ancient (p. 092)
family, or rather, we must say, of princely extraction, being descended
from Llewellin ap Jorwarth Droyndon, Prince of Wales. We have reason to
conclude that he succeeded to large hereditary property. The exact time
of his birth is not known: most writers have placed it between 1349 and
1354; but it was probably later by five years than the latter of those
two dates.[99] This extraordinary man, whose unwearied zeal and
indomitable bravery, had they taken a different direction, would have
merited, humanly speaking, a better fate, was invested by the
superstitions of the times with a supernatural character. His vaunt to
Hotspur is not so much the offspring of Shakspeare's imagination, as
an echo to the popular opinions generally entertained of him:[100]
[Footnote 99: Owyn and his brother Tudor were both
examined at Chester, September 3, 1386, during the
controversy between the families of Scrope and
Grosvenor as to the arms of the latter; and it
appears from their own evidence that Owyn was born
before Sept. 3, 1359, and that his brother Tudor
(who was slain in the battle of Grosmont, or Mynydd
Pwl Melin) was three years younger. The record of
this controversy assigns to Owyn himself this
honourable title "Oweyn Sire [Lord] de Glendore del
age XXVII ans et pluis."]
[Footnote 100: Strange wonders, says Walsingham,
happened, as men reported, at the birth of this
man; for, the same night he was born, all his
father's horses were found to stand in blood up to
their bellies. It is curious to find both the
Sloane MS. and the Monk of Evesham pointing to the
fulfilment of this prophetic prodigy during the
battle in which Edmund Mortimer was taken, when the
bodies of the slain lay between the horses feet
rolling in blood.]
At my birth (p. 093)
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous in the frighted fields.
These signs have marked me extraordinary,
And all the courses of my life do show
I am not in the roll of common men.
1 HENRY IV. iii. 1.
Whether Owyn had persuaded himself to believe the fabulous stories
told of his birth; or whether for purposes of policy he merely
countenanced, in the midst of an ignorant and superstitious people,
what others had invented and spread; there is no doubt that even in
his lifetime he was supposed, not only within the borders of his
father-land, but even through England itself, to have intercourse with
the spirits of the invisible world, and through their agency to possess,
among other vague and indefinite powers, a supernatural influence over
the elements, and to have the winds and storms at his bidding. Absurd
as were the fables told concerning him, they exercised great influence
on his enemies as well as his friends; and few, perhaps, dreaded the
powers of his spell more than the King himself. Still, independently
of any aid from superstition, Glyndowr combined in his own person many
qualities fitting him for the prominent station which he acquired, and
which he so long maintained among his countrymen; and as the enemy of
Henry IV. he was one of a very numerous and powerful body, formed from
among the first persons of the whole realm. He received his (p. 094)
education in London, and studied in one of the Inns of Court. He
became afterwards an esquire of the body to King Richard; and he was
one of the few faithful subjects who remained in his suite till he was
taken prisoner in Flint Castle. After his master's fall he was for a
short time esquire to the Earl of Arundel, whose castle, situated in
the immediate neighbourhood of Glyndowrdy, was called Castel Dinas
Bran. Its ruins, with the hill on the crown of which it was built,
still form a most striking object near Llangollen, on the right of the
magnificent road leading from Shrewsbury to Bangor.
A few months only had elapsed after the deposition of Richard when
those occurrences took place which are said to have driven Glyndowr
into open revolt. He was residing on his estate, which lay contiguous
to the lands of Lord Grey of Ruthyn. That nobleman claimed and seized
some part of Owyn's property. Against this act of oppression Owyn
petitioned the Parliament, which sate early in 1400, praying for
redress. The Bishop of St. Asaph is said to have cautioned the
Parliament not to treat the Welshman with neglect, lest his countrymen
should espouse his cause and have recourse to arms. This advice was
disregarded, and Owyn's petition was dismissed in the most uncourteous
manner.[101]
[Footnote 101: Leland records the expressions of
contempt and insult with which the dismissal of
Owyn's petition was accompanied, and the advice of
the Bishop of St. Asaph scorned. "They said they
cared not for barefooted blackguards:"--"se de
scurris nudipedibus non curare." We cannot wonder
if their national pride was wounded by such
contumely.]
Another act of injustice and treachery on the part of Lord Grey (p. 095)
drove Owyn to take the desperate step either of raising the standard
of rebellion, or of joining his countrymen who had already raised it.
Lord Grey withheld the letter of summons for the Welsh chief to attend
the King in his expedition against Scotland, till it was too late for
him to join the rendezvous. Owyn excused himself on the shortness of
the notice; but Lord Grey reported him as disobedient. Aware that he
had incurred the King's displeasure, and could expect no mercy, since
his deadly foe had possession of the royal ear, Owyn put himself
boldly at the head of his rebellious countrymen, who almost unanimously
renounced their allegiance to the crown of England, and subsequently
acknowledged Owyn as their sovereign lord.
The Monk of Evesham, and the MS. Chronicle which used to be regarded
as the compilation of one of Henry V.'s chaplains, both preserved in
the British Museum, speak of the Welsh as having first risen in arms,
and as having afterwards elected Owyn for their chief. It is, however,
remarkable that no mention is made of Owyn Glyndowr in the King's
proclamations, or any public document till the spring of 1401. Probably
at first the proceedings, in which he took afterwards so (p. 096)
pre-eminent a part, resembled riotous outrages, breaking forth in entire
defiance of the law, but conducted neither on any preconcerted plan, nor
under the direction of any one leader.
Lord Grey's ancestors had received Ruthyn with a view to the protection
of the frontier; and on the first indication of the rebellious spirit
breaking out in acts of disorder and violence, both the King and the
Prince wrote separately to Lord Grey, reminding him of his duty to
disperse the rioters, and put down the insurgents. These mandates were
despatched probably in the beginning of June 1400, some days before
the King departed for the borders of Scotland. Lord Grey, in the
letter[102] to which we have above referred, supposing that the (p. 097)
King had already started on that expedition, returned an answer
only to the Prince, acknowledging the receipt of his and his father's
commands; but pleading the impossibility of executing them with
effect, unless the Prince, with the advice of the King's council,
would forward to him a commission with more ample powers, authorizing
him to lay hands on the insurgents in whatever part of the country
they might chance to be found; ordaining also that no lord's land
should be respected as a sanctuary to shield them from the law; and
that all the King's officers should be enjoined through the whole
territory to aid and assist in quelling the insurrection.[103]
[Footnote 102: Sir Henry Ellis, to whom we are
deeply indebted for his succinct and clear
statement of the events of these times, appears, in
his introductory remarks on Lord Grey's letter, to
have overlooked the date of Henry IV.'s departure
for Scotland. He says: "Upon Henry'
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