Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1

J >> J. Endell Tyler >> Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1

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[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
Herefordiae debitum suum honorifice
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
Archaeologia. 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]

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