Accordingly he appeared in full Parliament, and laid this statement before them; but it contained so much which would naturally incense the king, that he went to Richard the next day, and, throwing himself on his knees before him, once more craved his pardon, declaring that, when he took part formerly in measures against the king, he did not know that he was doing wrong, but that now he knew it, and implored forgiveness for it. All this anxiety showed that he was conscious of having entered into the very conspiracies which he was now endeavouring to throw off upon others.
Richard, with his usual smooth duplicity, once more assured him before the whole Parliament of his entire pardon, and promised him great favour. But Richard had, no doubt, already made up his mind as to what he would do. He had here strong hold on his turbulent and disaffected nobles, and he never let such advantages escape him. The great object, therefore, of obtaining a committee of men devoted to him, in whom were concentrated all the powers of Parliament, was to deal with these two nobles, who were dangerous to the solidity of his throne.
To this convenient committee, this sort of pocket Parliament, Richard referred the decision of the cause between them. Norfolk, aware of danger, had not appeared in his place in Parliament; but he was summoned by proclamation, and, on surrender, was brought before Richard at Oswaldster. There he boldly declared his innocence, and denounced the whole of Hereford's story as false, "the lies of a false traitor."
Richard had them now in his power, and ordered them both into custody. He proceeded to Bristol, where his little pocket Parliament went on exercising all the functions and authority of the real Parliament; and Richard caused them to enact that their statutes were of equal authority with those of a full Parliament, and should take the same effect; that all prelates before taking possession of their sees, all tenants of the Crown before receiving possession of their lands, should take an oath to observe the enactments of this junto as perfectly as those of Parliament itself, and that any person attempting to alter or revoke them should be guilty of treason. No more absolute independence of Parliament was ever assumed in this country. The violations of the constitution for which Charles I. afterwards lost his head were not more outrageous than these.
The controversy between Hereford and Norfolk, it was decreed by this committee, should be referred to a high court of chivalry, which was appointed to take place at Windsor on the 29th of April. As Hereford here persisted in the charge, and Norfolk as stoutly denied it, and as no witnesses could be brought, the court determined that the decision of the question should be made by wager of battle, which was to take place at Coventry on the 16th of September.
There, at the moment that the two antagonists were on the point of running a tilt at each other, the king threw down his warder, and the earl marshal stayed the combat. The king then pronounced sentence of banishment upon them both, which, he informed them, was the judgment of the council. Hereford was exiled for ten years, Norfolk for life. It is clear, from the greater severity of the sentence of Norfolk, that the charges of Hereford had told against him. He was pronounced guilty of having, on his own confession, endeavoured to excite dissensions amongst the great lords, and of having secretly opposed the repeal of the acts of Gloucester's Parliament. Richard took precautions to prevent the malcontents associating abroad so as to plot treason. The Duke of Norfolk was commanded to go on pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and after that to reside only in Germany, Hungary, or Bohemia; and neither of the dukes was to hold any communication with the banished Archbishop of Canterbury at any time during their exile.
Hereford, a man of consummate command of his temper, cool, calculating, and as unprincipled as he was ambitious, appeared to submit to this extraordinary, and, by all, unexpected, sentence, with so much humility that he obtained from Richard various benefits which a more openly indignant man would have lost. In the first place, the king, touched by his submission, promised to shorten the term of his exile five years. He acceded to Hereford's request that letters patent should be granted to both the banished lords to appoint attorneys to take possession of any inheritances which might fall to them during their absence, though they could not be there to perform homage or swear fealty. This request has been pronounced by some historians a mysterious one; but there is no mystery about it. John of Gaunt, Hereford's father, was now old and infirm, and not likely to live long. He had so lost all that high and swelling spirit which distinguished him through a long life, that he had consented to sign the royal acts against his own family—that for the attainder of his brother Gloucester, and now for the banishment of his own son. If he died while his son was abroad under sentence of banishment, all his vast estates would pass to the Crown in default of the performance of the necessary feudal conditions of tenure. Hereford, aware of this, endeavoured to guard against it by this royal engagement, and, probably, that his design might not be too obvious, was a party to the extension of the favour to his opponent. We shall presently see that Hereford's precaution did not prevent Richard seizing on Lancaster's estates, as that sagacious nobleman feared; but it gave Hereford a grand plea for his return to vindicate his usurped rights.
The two banished dukes took their departure. Richard, to soften still more the mind of Hereford, sent to him at Calais a present of 1,000 marks. The unfortunate Norfolk, after his pilgrimage, returned, and died of a broken heart at Venice. And we may here notice what became of the exiled Archbishop of Canterbury. After residing some time in France, the Pope appointed him to the see of St. Andrews in Scotland. This step was taken at the request of Richard, who flattered himself that he had thus rendered a troublesome adversary harmless.
Richard now imagined that he had reached the summit of uncontrollable power. With his taxes secured for life, instead of being compelled every year to come to Parliament to solicit their renewal, and to be called to account by the Commons for their expenditure; with his obsequious little pocket Parliament and council ready to decree any measure that he willed, however unjust and unconstitutional; and with a standing body of 10,000 archers, maintained out of those foolishly-conceded life-long supplies, Richard was, in fact, an absolute monarch. Froissart says, no man, however great, dared speak against anything that he did. He had lopped off or driven away the most powerful of his nobles and kinsmen; and he now raised money by forced loans. He compelled the judges to expound the law at his pleasure. He forced the unhappy adherents of Gloucester to purchase and re-purchase charters of pardon; and, to obtain plenty of fines and amercements, he at one stroke outlawed seventeen counties, on the charge of having favoured his enemies at the battle of Radcot Bridge. He could accuse both sides at pleasure of being his enemies; for, while he had secretly commissioned the Duke of Ireland to take up arms, Gloucester and Hereford were ostensibly maintaining the royal cause.
The money thus extorted from his groaning subjects was spent with reckless extravagance. We have already spoken of the prodigal licence and swarming numbers of his court. That of Edward III. had been esteemed very magnificent, but this of Richard far eclipsed it; and the chroniclers describe with wonder the gorgeous furniture and equipages, the feasts and pageants of this court, which had not the martial glory to make it tolerable to the people which Edward's had. It is said that the number of tailors, cloth merchants, cooks, jewellers, and retainers in costly liveries, was something inconceivable.