Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1

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

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28

[Footnote 62: See Archaeologia, 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.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28