It was in the hope that an English nobleman, residing in the country with a permanent right, and with almost regal power, might reduce the island to order, that Richard had made the Earl of Oxford Duke of Ireland, and granted to him and his heirs for ever all the lands which he should conquer from the native Irish, except such as they had retaken from the Crown or from former grantees. The hopes which had been entertained from this scheme were defeated by the king's feud with the barons, and by the attainder and banishment of Oxford.
Richard now set out to reduce the different factions, and restore order himself, at the head of 4,000 men-at-arms and 30,000 archers, and attended by the Duke of Gloucester and the Earls of Rutland and Nottingham. He landed at Waterford in October, 1394, and at the approach of so effective a force the most daring chieftains retired into their bogs and mountains. Such was the vigour with which Richard on this occasion prosecuted his object—no doubt finding a great relief to his mind in action—that very soon the Irish made terms of surrender, and the four principal kings, O'Neill, O'Brien, O'Conor, and McMurrough, came in and attended the king to Dublin, where they were, no doubt, much to the annoyance of their wild Irish habits, obliged to assume the outward smoothness of civilisation, most reluctantly induced to receive the honour of knighthood, to be arrayed in robes of state, and feasted in all decorum at the king's table.
The Irish chieftains, to the number of seventy-five, did homage, and agreed to the payment of a yearly tribute. Richard never on any occasion, not even in the Wat Tyler riots, displayed more energy and tact. He had all the qualities which should distinguish a monarch. He reformed the abuses of the Government, redressed grievances, enforced the laws, removed tyrannical officers, and thus reconciled the minds of the Irish, and re-established the English supremacy.
This good work was interrupted by a violent dispute between the Lollards and the Church at home. The Reformers had acquired much power, and, feeling their influence amongst the people, they prepared a sweeping petition to the Commons, containing many facts which were yet too strong for reception by the Government. They objected to the celibacy of the clergy, and complained that, by accepting offices under Government, and being ministers of state, and even generals, they were attempting to do the impossible thing—namely, to serve God and Mammon. They declared that by teaching transubstantiation they led to idolatry; that through the confessional they acquired a despotism over the people; by authorising war and criminal executions they opposed the law of Christ, which was one of love and mercy; and they even asserted that by licensing men to exercise the trade of goldsmiths and swordsmiths they violated the principles of the Gospel, which were those of simplicity and peace. Though no one was found hardy enough to present the petition abounding with doctrines which, though they had existed in the New Testament for nearly fourteen centuries, were still too new to the public for acceptance, yet the clergy were alarmed at this demonstration, and solicited the protection of the king, who severely reprimanded the leaders of the Lollards, and ordered all teachers of that persuasion to be expelled from the university of Oxford. Good Queen Anne was gone, and a new era, with new influences and fortunes, was at hand.
Richard now astonished the whole country by proposing to marry the eldest daughter of the King of France. The strong antipathy which the long and cruel wars had nourished between the two nations made them already regard each other as natural and hereditary enemies. Both the people of England and France, therefore, were surprised at this proposal, and averse from it. But the people are little consulted in any age in these matters; and the proposal, after some discussion at the French court, was well entertained. At the English court it was far from popular. The princes and barons looked on the French wars as the sources of fresh military glory and promotion. The Duke of Gloucester most of all expressed his opposition to it. He had more reasons than one. The first was, that he had a daughter whom he would fain see married to Richard. By this alliance he could calculate on his descendants succeeding to the throne of England, even if he could not himself usurp it. During the king's life, with his easy and pleasure-loving disposition, he could calculate on engrossing the real power of the State. Not less strange was his second reason. If the king allied himself to France, he would thus greatly strengthen his authority at home, and Gloucester was too far-seeing not to perceive that Richard, who never forgot an injury, would then be in a position to revenge himself on him for his past attempts to usurp the control over his nephew, and especially for the armed conspiracy which had destroyed his favourite ministers, and suspended his prerogative for twelve months. That this marriage was a matter entirely of policy was clear enough. The French princess was a mere child ten years of age. The preliminaries were, however, soon concluded, and the ceremony took place in 1396.
The conduct of Richard after this marriage was such as to lead the people the more sensibly to deplore the death of the good Queen Anne. Instead of the better spirit which had distinguished his latter years, instead of the wise and active conduct which he had displayed in Ireland while under the influence of a salutary sorrow, a light and thoughtless disposition had taken its place, as if a mere girlish wife had brought with her an atmosphere of trifling and frivolity. With the exception of his harsh treatment of the city a few years before, and the deprivation of its charter, which, though soon restored, had left a lively memory of the arbitrary fact, there was not much in Richard's political conduct to complain of. But his personal character was rapidly deteriorating. He lived in a continual course of feasting and dissipation, and thus wasted the funds he had received with the queen, and the resources derived from his people.
Amongst the principal favourites of this time were his half-brother, the murderer, Sir John Holland, who had been on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in penance for his crimes, and now was dignified with the title of the Earl of Huntingdon, as his brother was with that of the Earl of Kent. Through the hands of these men all favours and honours passed, and we cannot suppose that their conversations and counsels were very good for the king. His household was on a most ruinous scale, consisting, it is said, of not less than 10,000 persons, and the riot and follies carried on there excited great disgust.
All these matters were carefully noted by the discontented Duke of Gloucester, still more morose from the king's refusal of his daughter, on the plea of her being too near akin. It was in vain that the king made him rich presents to win his goodwill. He was still sullen, morose, and destitute of all courtesy, returning the attentions of the nobles with abrupt and curt answers, so that they said amongst themselves, if ever Gloucester could stir up a war he would.
At length Richard resolved to strike his long deferred blow. He invited the Earl of Warwick to dinner, and then, the latter being off his guard, he had him arrested at the house of the chancellor, near Temple Bar, and committed to the Tower. The primate was made use of to bring his brother, the Earl of Arundel, to a private interview with the king, who instantly arrested him and sent him to Carisbrooke Castle. But perhaps the most revolting of these insidious modes of arrest was that of the Duke of Gloucester himself. Richard, while intending to sacrifice his uncle's life, did not hesitate to pay him a visit at his castle of Pleshy, in Essex. Here Gloucester came forth with his wife and daughter to meet him, without any suspicion, and, according to the account of the rolls of Parliament, with a dutiful procession. The king caused him to be seized and hurried on board a vessel by the earl marshal, and conveyed to Calais. It is said by contemporary chroniclers that, while this was doing, Richard was conversing in a friendly guise with the duchess. Froissart says Richard was kindly entertained, requested Gloucester to accompany him to London, and had him seized on the way. This does not appear probable if the parliamentary rolls are correct. But in any case the manner of the thing was treacherous and unworthy of a great monarch.
The sudden disappearance of the duke alarmed all his friends and partisans, who believed that he was murdered, and they trembled for their own security. To pacify the public mind, Richard issued a proclamation, stating that these arrests had been made with the full assent of the Dukes of Lancaster and York, and of their sons and all the leading members of the council; that they were made, not on account of the transactions of the tenth and eleventh years of his reign, for which bills of indemnity had been given, but for recent offences; and that no one need be alarmed on account of participation in those past proceedings.