Whilst we remark that in these several accounts no allusion whatever is made to any opposition to his father on the part of the Prince, or any sign of displeasure on the part of the King in this particular point of his conduct, the simple facts are decidedly against the supposition of any such unsatisfactory proceeding. In February 1412, more than three months after the Earl of Arundel's dismissal by the Duke of Burgundy, the King was still engaged in negociations with that Duke: nor was it till three months after that,—not till May 18th,—that the final treaty between the King and the Duke of Orleans was signed.[266] And it is very remarkable that, within two days, the Prince[267] himself, as well as his three brothers, in the (p. 273) presence of their father, solemnly undertook to be parties to that treaty, and to abide faithfully by its provisions.

[Footnote 266: The King had issued a proclamation at Canterbury, addressed to all sheriffs, and to the Captain also of Calais, forbidding his subjects of any condition or degree whatsoever to interfere in this foreign quarrel. April 10, 1412.]

[Footnote 267: Rymer Foed.]

We are compelled, then, to infer, that there is no evidence whatever of Prince Henry having acted in this affair in contravention of his father's will. He very probably used his influence to persuade the King, and was successful. And as to the application having been made to him by the Duke of Burgundy, and not to the King, we must bear in mind that, at this period, it was to him that even his brother Thomas presented his petition, and not to his father; and that the Pope sent his commendatory letters to him, and not to the King.[268]

[Footnote 268: On February 9th, in the third year of his pontificate (1413), Pope John recommends John Bremor to the kind offices of the Prince; and, on the kalends of March (1st of March), the same pontiff sent Dr. Richard Derham with a message to him by word of mouth.]

The French historians, though their attention has naturally been drawn to the introduction of English auxiliaries into the land of France, rather than to the authority by which they were commissioned, enable us to acquiesce with increased satisfaction in the conclusion to which we have arrived. Whether contemporary or modern,[269] they seem all to have considered the original mission of Lord Arundel and the troops under his command as the act of King Henry IV. himself.[270] They inform us, moreover, that, on the arrival in England of the (p. 274) subsequent embassy of the Duke of Burgundy, so late as March 1412,[271] his representatives were received with every mark of respect and cordiality, not only by the Prince, but by the King also, and his other sons. They lead us also to infer that, when the confederate French princes made their application for succours "to the King and his second son,"[272] the Prince withheld his concurrence from the change of conduct adopted by his father, and endeavoured to the utmost of his power to prevent the contemplated expedition under the Duke of Clarence from being carried into effect. A comparison of these authors with our own undisputed documents supplies a very intelligible and consistent view of the whole transaction; and so far from representing Henry of Monmouth as an undutiful son, obstinately bent on pursuing his own career, reckless of his father's wishes, bears incidental testimony both to his steadiness of purpose, and to his unwillingness to act in opposition to his father. In conjunction with the King he originally espoused the cause of Burgundy, and was afterwards averse from deserting their ally. He was anxious also to dissuade his father from adopting that vacillating policy on which he saw him bent. But within two days after the King had irrevocably taken his final resolve, and had joined himself to the Duke of Orleans, and the other confederated princes by a league, offensive and defensive, against the Duke of Burgundy, instead of persevering in his (p. 275) opposition to that measure, or defying his father's authority, within two days he made himself a party to that league, and pledged his faith to observe it.

[Footnote 269: M. Petitot.]

[Footnote 270: Jean Le Fevre, Morice, Lobineau.]

[Footnote 271: Monstrelet.]

[Footnote 272: Laboureur.]

Although Prince Henry seems to have had little to do with these continental expeditions beyond the first mission of Lord Arundel and his forces, yet it is impossible not to suspect (as the French at the time anticipated) that this decided interference, on the part of England, with the affairs of France, may have been a prelude to the enterprise of the next reign. Who can say that the battle and victory at St. Cloud passed away without any influence on the course of events which made Henry V. heir to the King of France?

We must not leave the mention of this battle without repeating the testimony borne by the chroniclers of the day to the courage and humanity of the English, though we lament, at the same time, the act of cruelty on the part of the French, with which the character of our forefathers stands in such strong contrast. When the victory was won, the Duke of Burgundy, with the usual ferocity of civil warfare, commanded his officers to put their prisoners to death. The English generals resisted this sanguinary mandate,[273] declaring they would die with their captives rather than see them murdered; at the (p. 276) same time forming their men in battle-array to support, with their lives, their noble resolution.

[Footnote 273: Hardyng has thus recorded this gratifying exhibition of generous feeling and noble resolve on the part of the English:

"He commanded then eche capitayn His prisoners to kill them in certayn. To which, Gilbert Umfreuile, Erle of Kyme, Answered for all his fellowes and their men, They should all die together at a tyme Ere theyr prisoners so shulde be slayn then; And, with that, took the field as folk did ken, With all theyr men and all theyr prysoners, To die with them, as worship it requires. He said they were not come thyther as bouchers To kyll the folke in market or in feire, Nor them to sell; but, as arms requires, Them to gouern without any dispeyre." Hardyng's Chron.]

It was about the Feast of the Assumption (August 25) that the King sent his son Thomas Duke of Clarence[274] to aid the Duke of Orleans against the Duke of Burgundy: "many persons," says Walsingham, "wondering what could be the sudden change, that in so short a (p. 277) space of time the English should support two opposite contending parties." The Duke of Orleans failed to join them in time, and the English committed many depredations as in an enemy's country. At last, the two generals meeting, the Duke of Orleans consented to pay a large sum to the Duke of Clarence on condition that the English should evacuate the country: and the Earl of Angouleme[275] was given as a hostage for the due payment of the stipulated sum. The Duke of Clarence did not return to England till after his father's death.

[Footnote 274: There is some discrepancy in the accounts of the time of Clarence's departure. The Chronicle of London puts it nearly a month earlier than Walsingham: "And then rode Thomas, the King's son, Duke of Clarence, and with him the Duke of York, and Beauford, then Earl of Dorset, towards [South] Hampton with a great retinue of people; and on Tuesday rode the Earl's brother of Oxenford, and on the Wednesday rode the Earl of Oxenford; and they all lay at Hampton, and abode in the wynde till on the Thursday, the 1st day of August. The which Thursday, Friday, and Saturday they passed out of the haven XIIII ships,—were driven back on Sunday,—and after landed at St. Fasters, near Hagges, in Normandy."]

[Footnote 275: In the "Additional Charters," now in the British Museum, purchased of the Baron de Joursanvault, we find letters patent from Charles VI, reciting that, by his permission, a treaty had been made with the Duke of Clarence and other English, who agreed to evacuate the country without making war; the Duke of Orleans giving to them the Earl of Angouleme as a hostage, for whose ransom the Duke was put to vast charges. Letters also are preserved from the Duke to his chancellor, reciting that a large sum was to be paid to the English, and in particular a hundred crowns of gold were to be paid to John Seurmaistre, chancellor of the Duke of Clarence, who was going to Rome on the affairs of the Duke of Clarence. This bears date, Blois, Nov. 20, 1412. His mission to Rome was, no doubt, to negociate for the dispensation necessary to enable the Duke to marry his uncle's widow. In the March of the next year, the same document acquaints us with the present of a head-dress from the Duke of Orleans to that lady, then Duchess of Clarence.]



CHAPTER XIII. (p. 278)

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.

1412-1413.

Two other accusations brought against the fair fame of Henry of Monmouth in reference to his conduct in the very year before his accession to the throne, must be now carefully weighed. The first, indeed, is fully refuted by the selfsame page of our records which contains it: the second, unless some new light could be thrown upon this dark and mysterious page of his life, can scarcely have failed to make an unfavourable impression on the minds of every one whose heart has ever felt the bond of filial duty and affection.

With regard to the first accusation, we cannot do better than quote the words of the antiquary who has first brought both the calumnious charge and its refutation to light. "The general impression (p. 279) (says that writer) which exists respecting the character of Henry V, and especially whilst Prince of Wales, is so opposed to the idea that he could possibly be suspected of a pecuniary fraud, that it excites surprise that he should have been accused of appropriating to his own use the money which he had received for the payment of his soldiers. In the Minutes of the Council, between July and September 1412, the following entry occurs: 'Because my lord the Prince, Captain of the town of Calais, is slandered in the said town and elsewhere, that he should have received many large sums of money for the payment of his soldiers, and that those sums have not been distributed among them, the contrary is proved by two rolls of paper being in the council, and sent by my said lord the Prince; it is ordered that letters be issued under the privy seal, explanatory of the fact respecting the Prince in that matter.'"

Although it may excite our wonder that the character of Henry of Monmouth should have been assailed for appropriating to other purposes money received for the payment of his troops, yet such an acquaintance with the exhausted state of the treasury of England at that day, as even these pages afford, will diminish the surprise.[276] The probability is, that, of the "large sums" voted by parliament, (p. 280) a very small proportion only was immediately forthcoming; and that, as in Wales, so in Calais, he could with great difficulty gather from that exhausted source enough from time to time to keep his men together. Persons not acquainted with this fact, hearing of the large sums voted, might naturally suspect that there was not altogether fair and upright dealing. However, the above extract is the only document known on the subject; and the same sentence which records the "slander," contains also his acquittal. He had forwarded his debtor and creditor account in two rolls, and by them it was proved that the slander was unfounded; and a writ of privy seal declaring his innocence was immediately issued. The fact is, that, at that very time, there was due to the Prince for Calais no less a sum than 8689l. 12s.; besides the sum of 1200l. due for the wages of sixty men-at-arms and one hundred and twenty archers, who were still living at Kymmere and Bala for the safeguard of Wales; whilst the council at the same time declared, that they knew not how to raise the money for the wages of the men who were with the Prince. The affairs of Calais seem to have fallen into some confusion before the Prince was appointed Captain, as the Minutes of Council speak of the ancient debts incurred whilst the Earl of Somerset was captain, as well as the more recent expenses; and record that Robert Thorley, the treasurer, and Richard Clitherowe, victualler, were charged to come, with (p. 281) their accounts written out, on the morrow of All Souls next ensuing, specifying the persons to whom the several sums were paid, and the dates of payment. The King, also, in a council at Merton, on October 21st, orders certain changes to be made in the mode of collecting the duties on skins and wools; "to the intent that my lord the Prince, as Captain of the town of Calais, may the more readily receive payment of the arrears due to him and his soldiers, living there for the safeguard of the said town." We have seen that, in Wales, the Prince was driven by necessity to pawn the few jewels in his possession, in order to pay the soldiers under him; and, as Captain of Calais, he appears to have had a great difficulty in obtaining payment of the sums assigned to him.[277] No one can any longer wonder that the soldiers were not paid, or that their complaints should offer themselves in the form of accusation. The Prince stands entirely free from blame, and clear of all suspicion of misdoing.

[Footnote 276: The Prince's appointment (when he took charge of the town) is dated March 18, 1410, which was the Tuesday before Easter; at which time there was due a debt, incurred before Henry had anything whatever to do with Calais, of not less than 9000l.—Minutes of Council, 30th July 1410.]

[Footnote 277: Within a year of the Prince's accession to the throne, the Pell Rolls, January 27, 1414, record the payment of 826l. 13s. 4d. to the Bishop of Winchester, lent to the King when he was Prince of Wales.]

Though these causes are of themselves more than enough to account for the depressed state of Henry of Monmouth's finances; yet there was another drain, the pecuniary difficulties of his father, which, though hitherto unnoticed, must not be suppressed in these Memoirs. (p. 282) It is not necessary more than to refer to the causes of the pecuniary difficulties of Henry IV; as the public and authentic documents of his reign suggest a suspicion of want of economy in his more domestic expenditure, and leave no doubt as to the extent to which he endeavoured to meet his increasing wants by loans from spiritual and municipal bodies, as well as from individuals. Among others, his son Henry's name occurs, not once or twice, but repeatedly. Whilst some loans, with reference to the then value of money, must be considered large; others cannot fail to excite surprise from the smallness of their amount.[278]

[Footnote 278: Pell Rolls, 9 Hen. IV. 17th July, &c.]

* * * * *

A charge, however, more vitally affecting Henry's character than any other by which it has ever been assailed, requires now a patient and thorough investigation. The groundwork, indeed, upon which the accusation is built, is of great antiquity, though the superstructure is of very recent date. Were it sufficient for a biographer, who would deal uprightly, merely to contradict the evidence by demonstrating its inconsistency with indisputable facts, the business of refutation in this instance would be brief, as the accusation breaks down in every particular, from whatever point of view we may examine it. But the province of these Memoirs must not be so confined. To establish the truth in these points satisfactorily, as well as to place clearly (p. 283) before the mind the total inadequacy of the evidence to substantiate the charge, will require a more full and detailed examination of the value of the Manuscript on which the charge is made to rest, than could be conveniently introduced into the body of this narrative. The whole is therefore reserved for the Appendix; and to a careful, dispassionate weighing of the arguments there adduced, the reader is earnestly invited.

But the Author, as he has above intimated, does not think his duty would be performed were he merely to prove that the charge against Henry is altogether untenable upon the evidence adduced; though that is all which the accusation so unsparingly now in these late years brought against him requires or deserves. The very allusion to such an offence as undutiful, unfilial conduct in one whose life is otherwise an example of obedience, respect, and affection towards his father, requires the biographer to take up the province of inquisitor, and ascertain what ground there may be, independently of that inadequate evidence alleged by others, for believing Henry to have once at least, and for a time, forgotten the duties of a son; or what proceedings, not involving his guilt, might have given rise to the unfounded rumour, and of what satisfactory explanation they may admit.

The charge is this: That, in the parliament held in November 1411, Prince Henry desired of his father the resignation of his crown, on the plea that the malady under which the King was suffering (p. 284) would not allow him to rule any longer for the honour and welfare of the kingdom. On the King's firm and peremptory refusal, the Prince, greatly offended, withdrew from the court, and formed an overwhelming party of his own among the nobility and gentry of the land, "associating them to his dominion in homage and pay." Such is the statement made (not indeed in the form of an accusation, but merely as one of the occurrences of the year,) in the manuscript above referred to. The modern comment upon this text would probably never have been made, if the writer had given more time and patient investigation to the subject; and now, were such a suppression compatible with the thorough sifting of Henry's character and conduct, the quotation of it might well have been spared in these pages. A few words, however, on that comment, and recently renewed charge, seem indispensable. "The King's subsequent death (such are the words of the modern historian) prevented the final explosion of this unfilial conduct, which, as thus stated, deserves the denomination of an unnatural rebellion; and shows that the dissolute companion of Falstaff was not the gay and thoughtless youth which his dramatic representation exhibits to us, but that, amid his vicious gaieties, he could cherish feelings which too much resemble the unprincipled ambition of a Catilinarian temper."[279]

[Footnote 279: Turner's History.]

These are hard words; and, if deserved, must condemn Henry of Monmouth. That they are not deserved; that he was not guilty of this offence (p. 285) against God and his father; that the page which records it condemns itself, and is contradictory to our undisputed public records; that the manuscript which contains the charge carries with it no authority whatever; and that the inference which has lately been fastened upon the original report is altogether inconsistent with the acknowledged facts of the case, are points which the Author believes he has established beyond further controversy in the Appendix; and to that dissertation he again with confidence refers the reader. But every reader whose verdict is worth receiving, will agree that our abhorrence of a crime should only increase our care and circumspection that no innocent person stand charged with it. If Henry were guilty, his character must remain branded with an indelible stain, in the estimation of every parent and every child, incomparably more disgraceful than those "vicious gaieties" with which poets and historiographers have delighted to stamp his memory.—At a time when disease was paralysing all a father's powers of body and mind, and hurrying him prematurely to the grave, that a first-born son, instead of devoting himself, and all his heart, and all his faculties, to his parent; strengthening his feeble hands, supporting his faltering steps, guiding his erring counsels, bearing his heavy burden, protecting him from the machinations of the malicious and designing, cheering his drooping spirits, making (as far as in him lay) his (p. 286) last days on earth days of peace, and comfort, and calm preparation for the change to which he was hastening;—instead of this, that a son, who had always professed respect and affection for his father, should thrust the most painful thorn of all into the side of a sinking, broken down, dying man, is so abhorrent from every feeling, not only of a truly noble and generous spirit, but of mere ordinary humanity,—is so utterly "unprincipled," "unfilial," and "unnatural,"—that though in such a case we might hope, after a life of sincere Christian penitence, the stain might have been removed from his conscience; yet, in the estimation of the wise and good, he could never have obtained the name of "the most excellent and most gracious flower of Christian chivalry."

Although for the real merits of the question, as far as relates to the manuscript, we refer to the argument in the Appendix; and although, if the foundation of original documents be withdrawn, it matters little to the investigator of the truth what superstructure modern writers have hastily run up; yet such a positive assertion as that "the King's subsequent death prevented the final explosion of this unfilial conduct and unnatural rebellion" of the Prince, who cherished "feelings resembling the unprincipled ambition of a Catilinarian temper," does seem to call for a few words before we proceed with the narrative. It is difficult to say whether the confused views of the manuscript, or of its modern commentator, be the greater. The (p. 287) manuscript, (to mention here only one specimen of its confusion,) in the very page which contains the accusing passage, represents the expedition to France in the summer of 1411; the battle of St. Cloud, which was fought November 10, of the same year; the expedition under the Duke of Clarence, which was undertaken after Midsummer 1412; and the return of the Duke and his forces to England, which was not till the spring of 1413, as having all taken place in the thirteenth year of Henry IV. And the commentator who tells us that the King's death prevented the final explosion of Henry's unfilial conduct, by confounding (as the manuscript had also done) the parliament in November 1411, with the parliament in February 1413, has entirely overlooked the facts which give a direct contradiction to his statement. The King's death did not occur till March 1413, more than a year and a quarter after the parliament ended in which the Prince is said to have been guilty of this act. The session of that parliament began on the 3rd of November, and broke up on the 20th of December; and the King, nearly half a year after its dissolution, declares his fixed[280] purpose, in order to avoid the spilling of human blood, to go in his own (p. 288) person to the Duchy of Guienne, and vindicate his rights with all possible speed."[281] Surely the web of his father's life left Henry no lack of time and opportunity for the execution of any measures which the most reckless ambition could devise, or the most "Catilinarian" temper sanction. But, leaving this ill-advised statement without further observation, it remains for us to proceed with our narrative, entirely free from any apprehensions or misgivings that our researches and reflections may tend only to elucidate the character of one who, in the midst of splendid sins, would sacrifice his own father to unbounded, reckless ambition, and unprincipled self-aggrandizement.

[Footnote 280: This resolution of the King is embodied in his letter to the Burgomasters of Ghent, &c. dated May 16, 1412; in which he tells them that the Dukes of Berry, Orleans, and Bourbon had offered to surrender to him such lands of his as they held in the Duchy of Guienne, and to assist him in recovering the remainder. He prays the Burgomasters not to impede him in his designs.]

[Footnote 281: On the 18th of April 1412, a warrant was issued to press sailors for the King's intended voyage.]

* * * * *

Henry of Monmouth had now for a long time been virtually in possession of the royal authority. He was not only President of the Council, but his name is united with the King's when both are present; and everything seems to have proceeded smoothly, with the best feelings of mutual confidence and kindness between himself, his father, and his brothers. Whether the King's own inclination, uninfluenced by the representations of his parliament, would have led him to put the reins of government into his son's hand, or whether he was induced by the complaints (p. 289) and urgent suggestions of the council (of which many broad and deep vestiges remain on record) to transfer the executive and legislative functions of the royal prerogative to a son in whom the people had entire confidence, may admit of much doubt. Probably both causes, his own increasing infirmities, and his people's dissatisfaction at the mismanagement of the court, expressed in no covert language, co-operated in producing that result. Hardyng (as he first wrote on this subject) would lead us to adopt the former view:

"The King fell sick then, each day more and more; Wherefore the Prince he made (as it was seen) Chief of Council, to ease him of his sore; Who to the Duke of Burgoyne sent, I ween;"

whilst the petitions presented to him, and some subsequent events which must hereafter be noticed, make us suspect that the behaviour of the Commons might have hastened his resolution.

At the close of the year, (from recounting the transactions of which this serious charge against Henry's character induced us to digress,) the parliament met in the first week in November. It was to have been opened on the morrow of All Souls, (November 3, 1411,) but the peers and commoners were so tardy in their arrival, that the King postponed his meeting the parliament till the next day. In those times, the monarch seems to have been in the habit of attending the (p. 290) parliamentary deliberations, and receiving the petitions, and taking part generally in the proceedings in person. Through this session Henry IV. was repeatedly present; and the Prince alone, of all his sons, appears to have attended also. Towards the close of this parliament, (the very parliament in which the alleged unfilial conduct of the Prince is represented to have occurred,) proceedings are recorded, which, though referred to in the Appendix for the sake of the argument, seem to require notice here also in the way of narration.

"Also, on Monday the last day of November, the said Speaker, in the name of the Commons, prayed the King to thank my lord the Prince, the Bishops of Winchester, of Durham, and others, who were assigned by the King to be of his council in the last parliament, for their great labour and diligence. For, as it appears to the said Commons, my lord the Prince, and the other lords, have well and loyally done their duty according to their promise in that parliament.[282] And upon that, my lord the Prince, kneeling, with the other lords, declared by the mouth of my lord the Prince how they had taken pains and diligence and labours, according to their promise, and the charge given them in parliament, to their skill and knowledge. This the King remembered well, and (p. 291) thanked them most graciously. And he said besides, that 'he was well assured, if they had possessed larger means than they had, in the manner it had been spoken by the mouth of my lord the Prince at the time the King charged them to be of his council in the said parliament, they would have done their duty to effect more good than was done, in divers parts, for the defence, honour, good, and profit of him and his kingdom.' And our lord the King also said, that he felt very contented with their good and loyal diligence, counsel, and duty, for the time they had been of his council." This took place about a month after the Parliament had first met, and within less than three weeks of its termination. On the very last day of this same parliament, "the Speaker recommending the persons of the Queen, of the Prince, and of other the King's sons, prayeth the advancement of their estates. For which the King giveth hearty thanks." The question unavoidably forces itself upon the mind of every one.—Could such a transaction as that, by which the fair fame of the Prince is attempted to be destroyed for ever, have taken place in this parliament? It may be deemed superfluous to add, that, though the records of this parliament are very full and minute, not the most distant allusion occurs to any such conduct of the Prince.

[Footnote 282: Sir Robert Cotton, in his Abridgement of the Rolls of Parliament, seems to think (though without assigning any reason) that the "thanks were for well employing the treasure granted in the last parliament."]

But whilst, as we have seen, there had arisen much discontent (p. 292) among the people with regard to the royal expenditure and the government of the King's household, the King in his turn had entertained feelings of dissatisfaction towards his parliament; in consequence, no doubt, of the plain and unreserved manner in which they had given utterance to their sentiments. When two parties are thus on the eve of a rupture, there never are wanting spirits of a temper (from the mere love of evil, or in the hope of benefiting themselves,) to foment the rising discord, and fan the smoking fuel into a flame. Such was the case in this instance, and such (as we shall soon see) was the case also in a course of proceedings far more closely united with the immediate subject of these Memoirs. On the same day, the last of the parliament, the Lords and Commons, addressing the King by petition, express their grief at the circulation of a report that he was offended on account of some matters done in this and the last parliament; and they pray him "to declare that he considers each and every of those in the estates of parliament to be loyal and faithful subjects," which petition the King of his especial grace in full parliament granted. This submission on the part of the parliament, and its gracious acceptance by the King, seem to have allayed, at least for a time, all hostile feeling between them.

The prayer of the parliament to the King, that he would express his own and the nation's thanks to the Prince and the other members of his council, has been thought to imply some suspicion on their part (p. 293) that the royal favour was withdrawn from the Prince, that the King was jealous of his influence, and was therefore backward in publicly acknowledging his obligations to his son. Be this as it may, two points seem to press themselves on our notice here:—first, that up to the May of the following year, 1412, no appearance is discoverable of any coolness or alienation of regard and confidence between the Prince and the King;—the second point is, that it is scarcely possible to read the disjointed records of the intervening months between the spring of that year and the next winter, without a strong suspicion suggesting itself, that the cordial harmony with which the royal father and his son had lived was unhappily interrupted for a time, and that misunderstandings and jealousies had been fostered to separate them. The subject is one of lively interest, and, though involved in much mystery, must not be disposed of without investigation; and, whilst we claim at the hands of others to "set down nought in malice," we must "nothing extenuate," nor allow any apprehension of consequences to suppress or soften the very truth. The Author feels himself bound to state not only the mere details of facts from which inferences might be drawn, but to offer unreservedly his own opinion, formed upon a patient research, and an honest weighing of whatever evidence he may have found. The results of his inquiries, after (p. 294) looking at the point in all the bearings in which his own reflections or the suggestions of others have placed it, is this:

Henry of Monmouth was assigned on the 12th of May 1407, with the consent of the council, to remain about the person of the King, that he might devote himself more constantly to the public service; probably the declining health of the King even then made such a measure desirable. From the hour when the Prince became president of the council, his influence through every rank of society naturally grew very rapidly, and extended to every branch of the executive government. Petitions were presented to him by name, not only by inferior applicants, but even by his brothers. Letters of recommendation were addressed to him by foreigners; and, in more than one instance, his interest was sought even by the Pope himself. When the King was personally present in the council, the record states, that the business was conducted "in the presence of the King, and of his son the Prince." The father retained the name, the son exercised the powers of sovereign. Such pre-eminence, as long as human nature remains the same, will give offence to some, and will engender envyings and jealousies and oppositions: nor was the Prince suffered long to enjoy his high station unmolested. Who were the persons more especially engaged in the unkind office of severing the father from his son, is matter of conjecture; so is also the immediate cause and occasion of their disunion. One of the oldest chroniclers[283] would induce us to believe that a (p. 295) temporary estrangement was effected in consequence of some malicious detractors having misrepresented the Prince's conduct with reference to the Dukes of Burgundy and Orleans. Some may suspect that the appointment of his brother Thomas to take the command of the troops in the expedition to Guienne, when their father's increasing malady prevented him from putting into execution his design of conducting that campaign in person, might have given umbrage to the Prince, and led to an open rupture. And undoubtedly it would have been only natural, had the Prince felt that, in return for all his labours and his devoted exertions in the field and at the council-board, the honourable post of commanding the armament to Guienne should have been assigned to him as the representative of his diseased parent.[284] But, perhaps, this was not in his thoughts at all. Certainly no (p. 296) trace in our histories or public documents is discoverable of any coolness or distance[285] prevailing afterwards between himself and his brother Thomas, as though he regarded him as a rival and supplanter. Hardyng (the two editions of whose poem, brought out at distant times, and under different auspices, in many cases give a very different colouring to the same transaction,) represents the time of the Prince's dismissal from the council, and the temporary quarrel between him and his father, to have followed soon after the return of the English soldiers sent to aid the Duke of Burgundy. His second edition, however, paints in more unfavourable colours the opposition of the Prince to his father, and sinks that voluntary return to filial obedience and regard which his first edition had described in expressions implying praise. In the Lansdowne manuscript, or first edition, an original marginal note directs the reader to observe "How the King and the Prince fell at great discord, and soon accorded."

[Footnote 283: Elmham.]

[Footnote 284: It may, moreover, be very fairly conjectured that the presence of the Prince at home was regarded by the people as far too important at this time to admit of his leaving the kingdom on such an expedition. It will be remembered that one of the first requests made by the parliament on the accession of his father was, that the Prince's life, and the welfare of the nation, might not be hazarded by his departure out of the kingdom; and subsequently, on his own accession, one of the first recommendations of his council was that he would remain in or near London. It is very probable that a similar wish might have interposed, had he, and not his brother, been commissioned to conduct the expedition to Guienne. Calais was so identified with the kingdom of England that his residence there is no exception to the rule.]

[Footnote 285: In the Sloane manuscript, indeed, we are told that on a pecuniary dispute arising between Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, and Thomas Duke of Clarence, with reference to the will of the late Duke of Exeter, brother of the Bishop, who was his executor, and whose widow the Duke of Clarence had married, the Prince took part with the Bishop, and so the Duke of Clarence failed of obtaining his full demand.]

"Then came they home with great thanks and reward, (p. 297) So, of the Duke of Burgoyne without fail. Soon after then (befel it afterward) The Prince was then discharged of counsaile. His brother Thomas then, for the King's availe, Was in his stead then set by ordinance, For which the Prince and he fell at distance. With whom the King took part, in great sickness, Again[st] the Prince with all his excellence. But with a rety of lords and soberness The Prince came into his magnificence Obey, and hole with all benevolence Unto the King, and fully were accord Of all matters of which they were discord."

In his later publication, the same writer gives a very different colouring to the whole proceeding on the part of the Prince; robbing him of his hearty good-will towards reconciliation, and representing his return to a right understanding with his father as the result rather of defeat and compulsion; but this was at a time when the star of the house of Lancaster had set, and when the house of York was in the ascendant.

"The King discharged the Prince from his counsail, And set my lord Sir Thomas in his stead Chief of council, for the King's more avail. For which the Prince, of wrath and wilful head, Again[st] him made debate and froward head; With whom the King took part, and held the field To time the Prince unto the King him yield."

Either of these representations of Hardyng will fully account for Shakspeare's

"Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, (p. 298) Which by thy younger brother is supplied:"[286]

though the poet, by fixing the interview between Henry and his father before the battle of Shrewsbury, has made the expulsion of the Prince from the council precede his original admission into it by four years, and his withdrawal from it by at least eight or nine years. It must here be remarked, that no historical document records the presence of Thomas Duke of Clarence as a member of the council-board: though, at the same time, the records in which we might have expected to find his presence registered, by observing a similar silence with regard to the Prince, seem to leave little doubt that Henry had ceased to attend the board a year before his father's death. Some strong though obscure passages, moreover, in the Chronicles of the time, would go far to suggest the probability of a demonstration of his power and (p. 299) influence through the country having actually taken place on the part of the Prince. Thus the Chronicle of London records, that "on the last day of June the Prince came to London with much people and gentles, and remained in the Bishop of Durham's house till July 11th. And the King, who was then at St. John's house, removed to the Bishop of London's palace, and thence to his house at Rotherhithe."[287] But the Chronicle suggests no reason for these movements and ambiguous proceedings. Thus, too, on the 23rd of September, the mere fact is stated that "Prince Henry came to the council with a huge people," supplying no clue as to the meaning and intention of the concourse. It cannot, moreover, escape observation, that, though the King held a council at Rotherhithe on the 8th and on the 10th of July, the Prince was not present: on the 9th, also, when his brother Thomas was (p. 300) created Duke of Clarence and Earl of Albemarle, though the Bishop of Durham, at whose house the Prince was staying, witnessed the creation, the Prince was not himself one of the witnesses. This circumstance, indeed may be so interpreted as to remove all idea of open hostility prevailing at that time between the King and the Prince. The prelate, it may fairly be supposed, would scarcely have been a welcome attendant at Rotherhithe, if he were showing all kind and free hospitality to a rebellious son, who was acting at that very time in menacing defiance of his father, and evincing by the demonstration of his numerous and powerful friends the fixed purpose of avenging himself for whatever insults he might believe himself to have received from the court party.

[Footnote 286: A passage which the Author has lately discovered in the Pell Roll, 18th February 1412, will not admit of any other interpretation than that the Prince, at the date of payment, had ceased to be of the King's especial council. Members of that board (as appears by various entries) were paid for their attendance. In the Easter Roll, for example, of the previous year, payment on that ground "to the King's brother, the Bishop of Winchester," is recorded. The payment to the Prince is thus registered: "To Henry Prince of Wales 1000 marks,—666l. 13s. 4d.—ordered by the King to be paid in consideration of the labours, costs, and charges sustained by him at the time when he was of the council of our lord himself the King,"—"tempore quo fuit de consilio ipsius Domini Regis."]

[Footnote 287: Perhaps more importance than the reality would warrant has been attached to the circumstance that the King on this occasion went to Rotherhithe, as though he withdrew from his son for safety to so unwonted and retired a place. It was not unusual for Henry IV. to hold his council at Rotherhithe. A year before this muster of the Prince's friends, the instructions given to the Earl of Arundel and others on their embassy to treat with the Duke of Burgundy for a marriage between his daughter and the Prince were signed by the King at Rotherhithe. In these instructions the Prince is mentioned throughout as though he and his father were inseparably united in the issue of the proceeding. "Till the report be made to the King and his very dear son the Prince." "Our lord the King is well disposed, and his very dear son my lord the Prince, to send aid." And Hugh Mortimer, one of the ambassadors, was chamberlain to the Prince.]

Equally in the dark do our records leave us as to the persons who were the fomentors of this breach between father and son. The oldest historians intimate that there were mischief-makers, whose malicious designs were for a time successful. Subsequent events (referred to hereafter in these volumes) compel us to entertain a strong suspicion that the Queen (Johanna) was at the head of a party resolved, if possible, to check the growing and absorbing interest of her son-in-law in the national council, to diminish his power, and tarnish his honour.[288] Be this as it may, there are, to be placed in the (p. 301) opposite scale, facts at which we have already slightly glanced, seeming to imply that things were going on smoothly between Henry and his father, even through that brief interval of time about which alone any doubts can be reasonably entertained. A Minute of the Council, apparently between the July and September of this year (1412), records that "it is the King's pleasure for my lord the Prince[289] to have payment on an assignment for the wages of his men still in his pay in Wales:" and on the 21st of October, in a council at Merton, "the (p. 302) King wills that the treasurer of Calais shall not interfere with any receipt or payments henceforward till otherwise advised; and that the treasurer of England shall receive all the monies arising from the third part of the subsidy on wools, to be paid by him from time to time at his discretion to the treasurer of Calais, with such intent that my lord the Prince, Captain of the town of Calais, might the more readily receive payment of what is in arrear to him and his soldiers living with him, according to the agreement; and also for the increase of his soldiers by the ordinance of the King beyond the number comprised in that agreement."

[Footnote 288: Who were the inferior agents in this ungracious and mischievous proceeding we have not discovered. Perhaps, however, the Author would not be justified in suppressing a suspicion which has forced itself on his mind, that, among those who entertained no kind feeling towards the Prince, was Richard Kyngeston, then late Archdeacon of Hereford, for a long time employed in the King's household, and through whose administration the expenses seem to have swollen very much; to control which was one of the principal causes for the appointment of the Prince, the Bishop of Winchester, and others, to be members of the especial council of the King. This suspicion was first suggested by the absence of all allusion to the Prince in the Archdeacon's letters to the King from Hereford in the early years of the Welsh rebellion, though Henry was close at hand; and the very ambiguous expression, "Trust ye nought to no lieutenant," when the Prince himself was virtually, if not already by indenture, Lieutenant of Wales.]

[Footnote 289: We have already seen that in the month of May the Prince in his own person (with his brothers) ratifies the league entered into between the King and the Dukes of Orleans, Berry, and Bourbon. Jean le Fevre dates it May 8th, 1412.]

On the whole of this extraordinary and mysterious passage of Henry of Monmouth's life, the Author must confess that it will be no surprise to him to find (with a mass of other matter more voluminous and important than we may now anticipate) new evidence affecting Henry's character, probably to his utter exculpation, possibly to his disadvantage, yet forthcoming from the countless treasures of unpublished records. Meanwhile, he can now, after a patient examination of all the books and manuscripts, original documents and subsequent histories, with which it has been his lot to meet, only return a verdict upon the evidence before him. And the inferences in which alone he has been able satisfactorily to acquiesce, are these:—First, that, after the Prince had for some time been most (p. 303) active and indefatigable President of the Council; he ceased to retain that office in consequence of a misunderstanding between himself and his father, fostered by some persons whose interest or malicious pleasure instigated them to so unworthy an expedient: Secondly, that after a demonstration of his strength in the affections and devotedness of the people, for the purpose (not of acting with violence or intimidation towards the King,[290] but) of convincing his enemies that the machinations of jealousy and detraction would (p. 304) have no power permanently to blast his reputation, and crush his influence, the alienation was soon happily terminated by the frank and filial conduct of the Prince, who as anxiously sought a full reconciliation as his father willingly conceded it: Thirdly, that, through the last months of his life, the King was free from all uneasiness and disquietude on that ground; and that the illness which terminated his earthly career, instead of being aggravated by the Prince's undutiful demeanour, was lightened by his affectionate attendance; and the dying monarch was comforted by the tender offices of his son.

[Footnote 290: Among the conjectures which may suggest themselves as to the possible origin of the manuscripts' charge, that the Prince sought to obtain from his father a resignation of his crown, it might not be unreasonably surmised, nor would the supposition reflect unfavourably at all on Henry's character, that, finding his father to be in the hands of unworthy persons, preying upon his fortune, misdirecting his counsels, rendering the monarch personally unpopular, and bringing the monarchy itself into disrepute, (of all which evils there is strong evidence,) the Prince might have urged on his father the necessity of again intrusting the management of the public weal (which disease had incapacitated him from conducting himself) to the hands of the same counsellors who had before served him and the realm to the acknowledged profit and honour of both. The Prince might, influenced only by the most honest, and upright, and affectionate motives, have professed his willingness to undertake the duties again from which he had (with his colleagues) been as it should seem causelessly discharged. And such a proceeding on his part might easily have been so misrepresented as to constitute the charge contained in the manuscript. The representations of Elmham, to which we have already briefly referred, and which are confirmed by other early writers, are so express with reference to these points, that they seem to require something more than a mere reference in this place. "When his father was suffering under the torture of a grievous sickness, the Prince endeavoured with filial devotedness to meet his wishes in every possible way; and notwithstanding the biting detraction and manifold accusations of some, which (according to the prevalence of common opinion) made efforts to diminish the kind feeling of the father towards his son, the Prince himself, by means of his own most affectionate kindness, succeeded finally in securing with his father favour, grace, and blessing, though those envious persons still resisted it."—Cum idem pater gravissimis aegritudinis incommodis torqueretur, eidem juxta omnem possibilitatem, totis conatibus, filiali obsequio obedivit, et non obstante quorundam detractatione mordaci et accusatione multiplici quae (prout vulgaris opinio cecinit) paterni favoris in filium moliebantur decrementa, ipse invidis renitentibus, suae piissimae benignitatis mediis, apud patrem, favorem, gratiam et benedictionem finaliter consequi merebatur.]

On the whole (allowing for inaccuracies as well of addition as of omission, which, though incapable of any specific correction, must perhaps exist in so detailed a narrative,) we shall not be far (p. 305) from the truth if we accept in its general outline the relation of this event as we find it in Stowe.

"Henry, the Prince, offended with certain of his father's family, who were said to sow discord between the father and the son, wrote unto all the parts of the realm, endeavouring himself to refute all the practices and imaginations of such detractors and slanderous people; and, to make the matter more manifest to the world, he came to the King, his father, about the Feast of Peter and Paul, with such a number of his friends and wellwishers, as a greater had not been seen in those days. He was straightway admitted to his father's presence, of whom this one thing he besought of him, that if such as had accused him might be convicted of unjust accusation, they might be punished, not according to their deserts, but yet, after their lies were proved, they might somewhat taste of that which they had meant, although not to the uttermost. The which request the King seemed to grant; but he told him that he must tarry a parliament, that such might be tried and punished by judgment of their peers."[291] Stowe refers to the work ascribed to Otterbourne, the sentiments of which he faithfully represents, and then proceeds with the further narrative. "The King had entertained suspicions in consequence of the Prince's excesses, and the great recourse of people unto him, of which his court (p. 306) was at all times more abundant than his father's, that he would presume to usurp the crown; so that, in consequence of this suspicious jealousy, he withdrew in part his affection and singular love from the Prince.[292] He was accompanied by a large body of lords and gentlemen; but those he would not suffer to advance beyond the fire in the hall, in order to remove all suspicion from his father of any intention to overawe or intimidate him. As soon as the Prince had declared to his father that his life was not so desirable to him that he would wish to live one day to his father's displeasure, and that he coveted not so much his own life as his father's pleasure and welfare, the King embraced the Prince, and with tears addressed him: 'My right dear and heartily beloved son, it is of truth that I had you partly suspect, and, as I now perceive, undeserved on your part. I will have you no longer in distrust for any reports that shall be made unto me. And thereof I assure you upon my honour.' Thus, by his great wisdom, was the wrongful imagination of his father's hate utterly avoided, and himself restored to the King's former grace and favour."

[Footnote 291: Stowe's Annals.]

[Footnote 292: How far we ought to believe the strange story about the Prince visiting his father in a mountebank's disguise, and praying the King to stab him with a dagger which he presented to him, is very problematical. There is much about it, and its circumstances, which gives it the air of great incredibility. Stowe here assumes, without good ground, that the suspicions of the King were excited by Henry's excesses.]

Stowe then reports that after Christmas the King called a (p. 307) parliament (on the morrow of the Purification, February 3,) to the end of which he did not survive. During his illness, which became much worse from about Christmas, he gave most excellent advice to Henry; the particulars of which, as recorded by Stowe, are probably more the fruits of the writer's imagination than the faithful transcript of any recorded sentiments. Still the possibility of their having existed in documents since lost, may perhaps be deemed a sufficient reason for assigning to them a place in this work.

"'My dear and well-beloved son, I beseech thee, and upon my blessing charge thee, that, like as thou hast said, so thou minister justice equally, and in no wise suffer them that be oppressed long to call upon thee for justice; but redress oppressions, and indifferently and without delay: for no persuasion of flatterers, nor of them that be partial, or such as have their hands replenished with gifts, defer not justice till to-morrow if that thou mayest do justice this day, lest peradventure God do justice on thee in the mean time, and take from thee thine authority. Remember that the wealth of thy body and thy soul and of thy realm resteth in the execution of justice: and do not thy justice so that thou be called a tyrant; but use thyself in the middle way between justice and mercy in those things that belong to thee. And between parties do justice truly, to the consolation of thy poor subjects that suffer injuries, and to the punishment of (p. 308) them that be extortioners and doers of oppression, that others thereby may take example; and in thus doing thou shalt obtain the favour of God, and the love and fear of thy subjects; and therefore also thou shalt have thy realm more in tranquillity and rest, which shall be occasion of great prosperity within thy realm, which Englishmen naturally do desire; for, so long as they have wealth and riches, so long shalt thou have obeisance; and, when they be poor, then they be always ready at every motion to make insurrections, and it causeth them to rebel against their sovereign lord; for the nature of them is such rather to fear losing of their goods and worldly substance, than the jeopardy of their lives. And if thou thus keep them in subjection, mixed with love and fear, thou shalt have the most peaceable and fertile country, and the most loving, faithful, and manly people of the world; which shall be cause of no small fear to thine adversaries. My son, when it shall please God to call me to the way decreed for every worldly creature, to thee, as my son and heir, I must leave my crown and my realm; which I advise thee not to take vainly, and as a man elate in pride, and rejoiced in worldly honour; but think that thou art more oppressed with charge to purvey for every person within the realm, than exalted by vain honour of the world. Thou shalt be exalted unto the crown for the wealth and conservation of the realm, and not for thy singular commodity and avail. My son, thou (p. 309) shalt be a minister unto thy realm, to keep it in tranquillity and to defend it. Like as the heart in the midst of the body is principal and chief thing, and serveth to covet and desire that thing that is most necessary to every of thy members; so, my son, thou shalt be amongst thy people as chief and principal of them, to minister, imagine, and acquire those things that may be most beneficial unto them. And then thy people shall be obedient unto thee, to aid and succour thee, and in all things to accomplish thy commandments, like as thy ministers labour every one in his office to acquire and get that thing that thy heart desireth: and as thy heart is of no force, and impotent, without the aid of thy members, so without thy people thy reign is nothing. My son, thou shalt fear and dread God above all things; and thou shalt love, honour, and worship him with all thy heart: thou shalt attribute and ascribe to him all things wherein thou seest thyself to be well fortunate, be it victory of thine enemies, love of thy friends, obedience of thy subjects, strength and activeness of body, honour, riches, or fruitful generations, or any other thing, whatever it be, that chanceth to thy pleasure. Thou shalt not imagine that any such thing should fortune to thee by thine act, nor by thy desert; but thou shalt think that all cometh only of the goodness of the Lord. Thus shalt thou with all thine heart praise, honour, and thank God for all his benefits that he giveth unto thee. And in thyself eschew (p. 310) all vainglory and elation of heart, following the wholesome counsel of the Psalmist, which saith, 'Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us! but unto thy name give the praise!' These, and many other admonitions and doctrines, this victorious King gave unto this noble Prince his son, who with effect followed the same after the death of his father, whereby he obtained grace of our Lord to attain to great victories, and many glorious and incredible conquests, through the help and succour of our Lord, whereof he was never destitute."

* * * * *

For the exquisitely beautiful picture of Shakspeare, called by some 'The Chamber Scene,' by others 'The Crown Scene,' the materials probably were gathered from Monstrelet, whose narrative is the only evidence we now have of the incident. That narrative, indeed, is not contradicted by any other account; still its authenticity is very questionable. It is, perhaps, impossible not to entertain a suspicion that a French writer would, without much enquiry, admit an anecdote by which Henry IV. is made to disclaim all title to the English throne, and, by immediate consequence, all title to the English possessions in the fair realm of France. It is also improbable either that Henry IV. would have uttered this sentiment in the presence of a witness, or that his son would have made it known to others. Monstrelet's anecdote, nevertheless, being the source of so inimitable a (p. 311) scene as Shakspeare has drawn from it, deserves a place here: "The King's attendant, not perceiving him to breathe, concluded he was dead, and covered his face with a cloth. The crown was then upon a cushion near the bed. The Prince, believing his father to be dead, took away the crown. Shortly after, the King uttered a groan, and revived; and, missing his crown, sent for his son, and asked why he had removed it. The Prince mentioned his supposition that his father had died. The King gave a deep sigh, and said, 'My fair son, what right have you to it? you knew I had none.'—'My lord,' replied Henry, 'as you have held it by right of your sword, it is my intent to hold and defend it the same during my life.' The King answered, 'Well, all as you see best; I leave all things to God, and pray that he will have mercy on me.' Shortly after, without uttering another word, he expired."[293]

[Footnote 293: Monstrelet, viii.]

Henry IV. expired on Monday, March 20, 1413; and his remains were taken to Canterbury, and there interred near the grave of his first wife. Clement Maidstone[294] testifies to his having heard a man swear to his father, that he threw the body into the Thames between Barking and Gravesend; but, on a late investigation, under the superintendence of members of the cathedral, the body was found still to be in the coffin, proving the falsehood of this foolish story.[295] (p. 312) The funeral was celebrated with great solemnity; and Henry V. attended in person to assist in paying this last homage of respect to the earthly remains of his sovereign and father.

[Footnote 294: Anglia Sacra, vol. ii. p. 371.]

[Footnote 295: Archaeologia.]



CHAPTER XIV. (p. 313)

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.

The hour of his father's death having been fixed upon as the date of Henry's reputed conversion from a career of thoughtless dissipation and reckless profligacy to a life of religion and virtue, this may appear to be the most suitable place for a calm review of his previous character and conduct.

In the very threshold of our inquiry, perhaps the most remarkable circumstance to be observed is this, that whilst the charges now so unsparingly and unfeelingly brought against his character, rest solely on the vague, general, and indefinite assertions of writers, (many of whom appear to aim at exalting his repentance into somewhat approaching a miraculous conversion,) no one single act of violence,[296] intemperance, injustice, immorality, or even (p. 314) levity of any kind, religious or moral, is placed upon record. Either sweeping and railing accusations are alleged, unsubstantiated by proof or argument; or else his subsequent repentance is cited to bear testimony to his former misdoings. Thus one writer asserts;[297] "This monarch, in the former part of his life, was remarkable for dissipation and extravagance of conduct; in the latter, he became the slave of the popedom. Voluptuousness, ambition, superstition, each in their turn had the ascendant in this extraordinary character." Thus does another sum up the whole question in one short note:[298] "The assertions of his reformation are so express, that the fact cannot be justly questioned without doubting all history; and, if there were reformation, there must have been previous errors."[299]

[Footnote 296: The story of the Chief Justice, &c. will be examined separately and at length. The charge from Calais of peculation (we have already seen) brought with it its own refutation: whilst the evidence on which alone the charge against him of undutiful conduct towards his father rests is proved to be altogether devoid of credit.]

[Footnote 297: Milner, Church History, Cent. XV.]

[Footnote 298: Turner, History of England, book ii. ch. x.]

[Footnote 299: Rapin, who follows Hall, and gives no better authority, tells us that Prince Henry's court was the receptacle of libertines, debauchees, buffoons, parasites, and the like. The question naturally suggests itself, "Ought not such a writer as Rapin to have sought for some evidence to support this assertion?" Had he sought diligently, and reported honestly, such a sentence as this could never have fallen from his pen. Carte gives a very different view of Henry of Monmouth's court; and a view, as many believe, far nearer the truth. "It was crowded," he says, "by the nobles and great men of the land, when his father's court was comparatively deserted."]

The expressions of Walsingham, (being the same in his History, (p. 315) and in the work called "Ypodigma Neustriae," or "A Sketch of Normandy," which he dedicated to Henry V. himself,) are considered by some persons to have laid an insurmountable barrier in the way of those who would remove from Henry's "brow," as Prince, "the stain" of "wildness, riot, and dishonour." And, doubtless, no one who would discharge the office of an upright judge or an honest witness, would either suppress or gloss over the passage which is supposed to present these formidable difficulties, or withdraw from the balance a particle of the full weight which might appear after examination to belong to that passage as its own. In our inquiry, however, we must be upon our guard against the fallacy in which too many writers, when handling this question, have indulged by arguing in a circle. We must not first say, Walsingham bears testimony to Henry's early depravity, therefore we must believe him to have been guilty; and then conclude, because tradition fixes delinquency on Henry's early days, therefore Walsingham's passage can admit only of that interpretation which fixes the guilt upon him. Let Walsingham's text be fairly sifted upon its own merits; and then, whatever shall appear to have been his (p. 316) meaning of an adverse nature, let that be added to the evidence against Henry; and let the whole be put into the scale, and weighed against whatever may be alleged in refutation of the charges with which his memory has been assailed. It would be the result then of a morbid deference to the opinions of others, rather than the judgment of his own reasoning, were the Author to withhold his persuasion that more importance has been assigned to Walsingham's words than a full and unbiassed scrutiny into their real bearing would sanction. To the judgment of each individually must this branch of evidence, no less than the entire question of Henry's moral character, be left. A transcript of Walsingham's words, as they appear in the printed editions of his History and in the "Ypodigma Neustriae,"[300] will be found at the foot of the page.[301] The following is probably (p. 317) as close a rendering of the original, as the strangely metaphorical, and in some cases the obscure expressions of Walsingham will bear. "On which day [of Henry's coronation] there was a very severe storm of snow, all persons marvelling at the roughness of the weather. Some considered the disturbance of the atmosphere as portending the new King's destiny to be cold in action, severe in discipline and in the exercise of the royal functions; others, forming a milder estimate of the person of the King, interpreted this inclemency of the sky as the best omen, namely, that the King himself would cause the colds and snows of vices to fall in his reign, and the mild fruits of (p. 318) virtues to spring up; so that, with practical truth, it might be said by his subjects, 'The winter is past, the rain is over and gone.' For verily, as soon as he was initiated with the chaplet of royalty, he suddenly was changed into another man, studying rectitude, modesty, and gravity, [or propriety, moderation, and steadiness,] desiring to exercise every class of virtue without omitting any; whose manners and conduct were an example to persons of every condition in life, as well of the clergy as of the laity."

[Footnote 300: The Author has searched in vain for any contemporary manuscript of Walsingham's "Ypodigma Neustriae." There is a copy in the British Museum, written up to a certain point on vellum; the latter part, containing these sentences, is on paper, and of comparatively a very recent date, transcribed, as the Author thinks, not from a previous MS. of the Ypodigma, but from a copy of the History. His ground for this inference is the circumstance that the interpolation in the History, as to Edmund Mortimer's death, which is not found in the printed editions of the Ypodigma, occurs in this MS. The MS. on vellum, preserved in the Heralds' College, is a copy of the History, transcribed, as the Author conceives, by a very ignorant copyist. The same interpolation of "Obiit" occurs here also; and, instead of calling the person spoken of Edmund Mortimer, it has "Edmundus mortifer." The Author was very desirous of comparing the original copy of Walsingham's Ypodigma, as dedicated to Henry V, with subsequent transcripts or versions. He entertains a strong suspicion that the sentences here commented upon were not in the original; but, in the absence of the means of ascertaining the matter of fact, he reasons upon them as though they were actually submitted to the eye of Henry himself.]

[Footnote 301: "Quo die fuit tempestas nivis maxima, cunctis admirantibus de temporis asperitate; quibusdam novelli Regis fatis impingentibus aeris turbulentiam, velut ipse futurus esset in agendis frigidus, in regimine regnoque severus. Aliis mitius de persona Regis sapientibus, et hanc aeris intemperiem interpretantibus omen optimum, quod ipse videlicet nives et frigora vitiorum faceret in regno cadere, et serenos virtutum fructus emergere; ut posset effectualiter a suis dici subditis, 'Jam enim hyems transiit, imber abiit et recessit.' Qui revera, mox ut initiatus est regni infulis, repente mutatus est in virum alterum, honestati, modestiae, ac gravitati studens, nullum virtutum genus omittens quod non cuperet exercere. Cujus mores et gestus omni conditioni, tam religiosorum quam laicorum, in exempla fuere."]

Unquestionably, from these expressions an inference may be drawn fairly, and without harshness or exaggeration, that the "changed man" had been in times past negligent of some important branches of moral duty; vehement, hasty, and impetuous in his general proceedings; and not considering in his pursuits their fitness for his station and place; in a word, guilty of moral delinquencies immediately opposed to the virtues enumerated. On the other hand, by specifying those three moral qualities, (in which this passage is interpreted to imply that Henry's life had undergone a sudden and total change,—rectitude, modesty, and steadiness,) Walsingham appears to have selected exactly those identical points, for Henry's full possession of which the parliament of England had felicitated his father; and which, either separately, or in combination with other excellencies, continued to be ascribed to him at various times, as occasion offered, even to (p. 319) a period within a few months of his accession to the throne. Never did a young man receive from his contemporaries more unequivocal testimony to the practical exercise in his person of propriety, modesty, and perseverance, than Henry of Monmouth received before he became King.

It may be said, and with perfect fairness, that the testimony of parliament to his virtues so early as the year 1406 leaves a most important chasm in a young man's life, during which he might have fallen from his integrity, and have rapidly formed habits of the opposite vices. But through that period no expressions occur in history which even by implication involve any degeneracy, any change from good to bad. On the contrary, to his zeal and steadiness, and perseverance and integrity, such incidental testimony is borne from time to time as would of itself leave a very different impression on the mind from that which Walsingham's words in their usual acceptation would convey; whilst no allusion whatever is discernible to any habits or practices contrary to the principles of religious and moral self-government. Indeed, it has been, not without reason, doubted whether, in the absence of more positive testimony, such sudden changes, first from good to bad, and then from bad to good, be not in themselves improbable.

On the whole, whilst each must be freely left to pronounce his own verdict, it is here humbly but sincerely suggested that (p. 320) Walsingham's words fairly admit of an interpretation more in accordance with the view of Henry's moral worth generally adopted in these Memoirs; namely, that his character rose suddenly with the occasion; that new energies were called into action by his new duties; that his moral and intellectual powers kept on a level with his elevation to so high a dignity, and with such an increase of power and influence; and that he continued to excite the admiration of the world by improving rapidly in every excellence, as his awful sense of the momentous responsibility he then for the first time felt imposed upon him grew in strength and intenseness. He became "another, a new man," by giving himself up with all his soul to his new duties as sovereign; and by cultivating with practical devotedness those virtues which might render him (and which, as Walsingham says, did actually render him) a bright and shining example to every class of his subjects.[302]

[Footnote 302: Hardyng uses this expression:

"A new man made in all good regimence."]

Undoubtedly most of the subsequent chroniclers not only speak of his reformation, but broadly state that he had given himself very great licence in self-gratification, and therefore needed to be reformed. Before Shakspeare's day, the reports adopted by our historiographers had fully justified him in his representation of Henry's early courses; and, since his time, few writers have considered it their duty to verify the exquisite traits of his pencil, or examine (p. 321) the evidence on which he rested.

"His addiction was to courses vain; His companies unlettered, rude, and shallow; His hours filled up with riots, banquets, sports; And never noted in him any study, Any retirement, any sequestration From open haunts and popularity."

Let the investigator who is resolved not to yield an implicit and blind assent to vague assertion, however positive, and how often soever repeated, well and truly try for himself the issue by evidence, and trace Henry from his boyhood; let him search with unsparing diligence and jealous scrutiny through every authentic document relating to him; let his steps be followed into the marches, the towns, the valleys, and the mountains of Wales; let him be watched narrowly month after month during his residence in London, or wherever he happened to be staying with the court, or in Calais during his captaincy there; and not a single hint occurs of any one irregularity.[303] The research will bring to light no single expression savouring of impiety, dissoluteness, carelessness, (p. 322) or even levity.

[Footnote 303: The Author having heard of a reported arrest of the Prince at Coventry for a riot, with his two brothers, in 1412, took great pains to investigate the authenticity of the record. It is found in a manuscript of a date not earlier than James I; whilst the more ancient writings of the place are entirely silent on the subject. The best local antiquaries, after having carefully examined the question, have reported the whole story to the Author as apocryphal.]

Testimony, on the other hand, ample and repeated, as we have already seen in these pages, is borne to his valour, and unremitting exertions and industry; to his firmness of purpose, his integrity his filial duty and affection; his high-mindedness (in the best sense of the word), his generous spirit, his humanity, his habits of mind, so unsuspecting as to expose him often to the over-reaching designs of the crafty and the unprincipled, his pious trust in Providence, and habitual piety and devotion. To these, and other excellences in his moral compound, his father,[304] and his father's antagonist, (p. 323) Hotspur, the assembled parliament of England, the common people of Wales, the gentlemen of distant counties, contemporary chroniclers, (combined with the public records of the kingdom and the internal evidence of his own letters,) bear direct and unstinted witness. From the first despatch of Hotspur to the last vote of thanks in parliament, there is a chain of testimonies (detailed in their chronological order in previous chapters of this work) very seldom equalled in the case of so young a man, and, through so long a period, perhaps never surpassed. And yet, though he was through the whole of that time the constant object of observation, and the subject of men's thoughts and words, no complaint of any neglect of duty arrests our notice, nor is there even an insinuation thrown out of any excess, indiscretion, or extravagance whatever. Not a word from the tongue of friend or foe, of accuser or apologist, would induce us to suspect that anything wrong was stifled or kept back. There are complaints of the extravagant expenditure of his father, and recommendations of retrenchment and economy in the King's household; but never on any occasion, (even when the Prince is most urgent and importunate for supplies of money, offering the most favourable and inviting opportunity for remonstrance or remark), is there the slightest (p. 324) innuendo either from the King, the Lords of the council, or the Commons in parliament, that he expended the least sum unnecessarily.[305] No improper channel of expense, public or private, domestic or personal, is glanced at; nothing is objected to in his establishment; no item is recommended to be abolished or curtailed; no change of conduct is hinted at as desirable. And yet subsequent writers speak with one accord of his reformation; "and reformation implies previous errors." After examining whatever documents concerning him the most diligent research could discover, the Author is compelled to report as his unbiassed and deliberate judgment, that the character with which Henry of Monmouth's name has been stamped for profligacy and dissipation, is founded, not on the evidence of facts, but on the vagueness of tradition. Still such is the tradition, and it must stand for its due value. And if we allow tradition to tell us of his faults, we must in common fairness receive from the same tradition the fullness of his reformation; if we give credence to one who reports both his guilt and his penitence, we must record both accounts or neither. Before, however, we repeat what tradition has delivered (p. 325) down as to Henry's conduct and behaviour immediately upon his father's death, it may be well for us to review some of those testimonies to his character, his principles, and his conduct, which incidentally (but not on that account less acceptably or less satisfactorily) offer themselves to our notice, scattered up and down through the pages of former days.

[Footnote 304: It is not within the province of these Memoirs to record the Will of Henry IV, or to comment upon its provisions. There is, however, one sentence in it, a reference to which cannot be out of place here. In the year 1408, 21st January, a Will, which to the day of his death he never revoked, contains this sentence written in English: "And for to execute this testament well and truly, for the great trust that I have of my son the Prince, I ordain and make him my executor of my testament aforesaid, calling to him such as him thinketh in his discretion that can and will labour to the soonest speed of my will comprehended in this my testament. And to fulfil all things aforesaid truly, I charge my aforesaid son on my blessing." It may deserve consideration whether this clause in a father's last Will, never revoked, be consistent with the idea of his having expelled the son of whom he thus speaks from his council, and banished him his presence; and whether it may not fairly be put in the opposite scale against the vague and unsubstantial assertions of the Prince's recklessness, and his father's alienation from him. It must at the same time be borne in mind that the Will was made before the time usually selected as the period of their estrangement. The Will, nevertheless, was not revoked nor altered in this particular.]

[Footnote 305: In a fragment of the records of a council, 6 May 1421, among other former debts not provided for, such as "ancient debts for Harfleur and Calais," occurs one item, "Debts of Henry IV;" and another, "Debts of the King, whilst he was Prince." We have seen that he was more than once compelled to borrow money on his plate and jewels to pay the King's soldiers.]

* * * * *

Were we to draw an inference from the summary way in which many modern authors have cut short the question with regard to Henry of Monmouth's character as Prince of Wales, we should conclude that all the evidence was on one side; that, whilst "it is unfair to distinguished merit to dwell on the blemishes which it has regretted and reformed," still no doubt can be entertained of his having, "from a too early initiation into military life, stooped to practise irregularities between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five."[306] Whereas the fact is, that no allusion to such irregularities is made where we might have expected to find it; and that, independently of those more formal proofs to the contrary which are embodied in these pages, and to which we have above briefly referred, contemporary writers and undisputed documents supply us with materials for judging of his temper of mind and early habit,—the character, in short, with which those who had the best (p. 326) opportunities of knowing him, were wont to associate his name.

[Footnote 306: Turner.]

All accounts agree in reporting him to have been devotedly fond of music. As the household expenses of his father informed us, he played upon the harp before he was ten years old; nor does he seem ever to have lost the habit of deriving gratification from the same art. It were easy to represent him prostituting this love of minstrelsy in the haunts of Eastcheap, and enjoying "through the sweetest morsel of the night" the songs of impurity in reckless Bacchanalian revels, self-condemned indeed, and therefore to be judged by others leniently:

"I feel me much to blame So idly to profane the precious time:"[307]

but nevertheless guilty of profaning the sacred art of music in the midst of worthless companions, and in the very sinks of low and dissolute profligacy. This it were easy to do, and this has been done. But history lends no countenance to such representations. The chroniclers, who refer again and again to his fondness for music, tell us that it showed itself in him under very different associations. "He delighted (as Stowe records) in songs, metres, and musical instruments; insomuch that in his chapel, among his private prayers he used our Lord's prayer, certain psalms of David, with divers hymns and canticles, all which I have seen translated into English metre (p. 327) by John Lydgate, Monk of Bury." In this view we are strongly confirmed by several items of expense specified in the Pell Rolls, which record sums paid to organists and singers sent over for the use of Henry's chapel whilst he was in France; but this, being subsequent to his supposed conversion, cannot be alleged in evidence on the point at issue.[308] It only shows that his early acquired love of music never deserted him.

[Footnote 307: Second Part of Henry IV, act ii. sc 4.]

[Footnote 308: Pell Rolls, 7 Hen. V. 28th Oct.—D. 22nd Nov.]

In this place, moreover, we cannot refrain from anticipating, what might perhaps have been reserved with equal propriety to a subsequent page, that the same dry details of the Pell Rolls[309] enable us to infer with satisfaction that Henry made his love of minstrelsy contribute to the gratification of himself and the partner of his joys and cares, supplying an intimation of domestic habits and conjugal satisfaction, without which a life passed in the splendour of royalty must be irksome, and blessed with which the cottage of the poor man possesses the most enviable treasure. Whether in their home at Windsor, or during their happy progress through England in the halls of York and Chester, or in the tented ground on the banks of the Seine before Melun, our imagination has solid foundation to build (p. 328) upon when we picture to ourselves Henry and his beloved princess passing innocently and happily, in minstrelsy and song, some of the hours spared from the appeals of justice, the exigencies of the state, or the marshalling of the battle-field.