Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1 / Or, Memoirs of the Life and Character of Henry the Fifth, as Prince of Wales and King of England

by James Endell Tyler

CHAPTER XIII.

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 (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, 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 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.

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. 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]

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 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 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]

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 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 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 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 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.

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 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 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 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.

But whilst, as we have seen, there had arisen much discontent 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 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 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 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 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."

"Then came they home with great thanks and reward,
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,
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 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 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.

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 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 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."

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 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 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.

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 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 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."

Stowe then reports that after Christmas the King called a 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 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 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 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 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]

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] 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.