[Transcriber's note: Obvious printer's errors have been corrected. The original spelling has been retained.
Different spelling as been kept, e.g.:
- Ruisseauville and Ruissauville
- Azincour and Azincourt, etc ...
Some words on page 94 were partly unclear / illegible.
- Page 249: ii. vol. changed to vol. ii.
- Page 412: The anchor for the footnote 305 was missing and has been added.]
Great seal of Owen Glyndowr as Prince of Wales
HENRY OF MONMOUTH:
OR,
MEMOIRS
OF THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF
HENRY THE FIFTH,
AS
PRINCE OF WALES AND KING OF ENGLAND.
BY J. ENDELL TYLER, B.D.
RECTOR OF ST. GILES IN THE FIELDS.
"Go, call up Cheshire and Lancashire,
And Derby hills, that are so free;
But neither married man, nor widow's son;
No widow's curse shall go with me."
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET,
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
1838.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,
Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
CHAPTER XVII.
1413-1414.
CHAPTER XVIII.
1414-1417.
CHAPTER XIX.
1414.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
1415.
CHAPTER XXII.
1415.
CHAPTER XXIII.
1415.
CHAPTER XXIV.
1415-1417.
CHAPTER XXV.
1418-1419.
CHAPTER XXVI.
1419-1420.
CHAPTER XXVII.
1419-1420.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
1421-1422.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
1413.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
APPENDIX.
No. I. [Ballad of Agincourt.]
II. [Siege of Rouen.]
III. [Authenticity of the Manuscripts—Sloane 1776, and Reg. 13, c. 1.]
MEMOIRS
OF
HENRY OF MONMOUTH.
CHAPTER XVII.
henry of monmouth's accession. — national rejoicings. — his profound sense of the awfulness of the charge devolved upon him. — coronation. — first parliament. — habits of business. — he removes the remains of richard to westminster. — redeems the son of hotspur, and restores him to his forfeited honours and estates. — generous conduct towards the earl of march. — parliament at leicester. — enactments against lollards. — henry's foundations at shene and sion.
1413-1414.
HENRY, KING.
Henry IV. died at Westminster on Monday, March 20, 1413, and Henry of Monmouth's proclamation bears date on the morrow, March 21.[1] Never perhaps was the accession of any prince to the throne of a kingdom hailed with a more general or enthusiastic welcome. If serious minds had entertained forebodings of evil from his reign, (as we believe they had not,) all feelings seem to have been absorbed in one burst of gladness. Both houses of parliament offered to swear allegiance to him before he was crowned: a testimony of confidence and affection never (it is said) before tendered to any English monarch.[2] This prevalence of joyous anticipations from the accession of their young King could not have sprung from any change of conduct or of principle then first made known. Those who charge Henry most unsparingly represent his conversion as having begun only at his father's hour of dissolution. But, before that father breathed his last, the people of England were ready to welcome most heartily his son, such as he was then, without, as it should seem, either hearing of, or wishing for, any change. His principles and his conduct as a ruler had been put to the test during the time he had presided at the council-board; and the people only desired in their new King a continuance of the same wisdom, valour, justice, integrity, and kind-heartedness, which had so much endeared him to the nation as their Prince. In his subjects there appears to have been room for nothing but exultation; in the new King himself widely different feelings prevailed. Ever, as it should seem, under an awful practical sense, as well of the Almighty's presence and providence and majesty, as of his own responsibility and unworthiness, Henry seems to have been suddenly oppressed by the increased solemnity and weight of the new duties which he found himself now called upon to discharge. The scene of his father's death-bed, (carried off, as that monarch was, in the very meridian of life, by a lingering loathsome disease,) and the dying injunctions of that father, may doubtless have added much to the acuteness and the depth of his feelings at that time. And whether he be deemed to have been the licentious, reckless rioter which some writers have been anxious to describe, or whether we regard him as a sincere believer, comparing his past life (though neither licentious nor reckless) with the perfectness of the divine law, the retrospect might well depress him with a consciousness of his own unworthiness, and of his total inability to perform the work which he saw before him, without the strength and guidance of divine grace. For that strength and that guidance, we are assured, he prayed, and laboured, and watched with all the intenseness and perseverance of an humble faithful Christian. Those who are familiar with the expressions of a contrite soul, will fully understand the sentiments recorded of Henry of Monmouth at this season of his self-humiliation, and the dedication of himself to God, and may yet be far from discovering in them conclusive arguments in proof of his having passed his youth in habits of gross violation of religious and moral principle. We have already quoted the assertions of his biographer, that day and night he sought pardon for the past, and grace for the future, to enable him to bend his heart in faith and obedience to the Sovereign of all. And even during the splendour and rejoicings of his coronation he appeared to withdraw his mind entirely from the greatness of his worldly state, thus forced upon him, and to fix his thoughts on the King of kings.[3]
But he never seems for a day to have been drawn aside by his private devotions from the full discharge of the practical duties of his new station. On the Wednesday he issued summonses for a parliament to meet within three weeks of Easter. On Friday the 7th of April, he was conducted to the Tower by a large body of men of London, who went on horseback to attend him. The next day he was accompanied back to Westminster, with every demonstration of loyalty and devotedness to his person, by a great concourse of lords and knights, many of whom he had created on the preceding evening. On the following morning, being Passion Sunday, April 9th,[4] he was crowned with much[5] magnificence in Westminster Abbey.[6]
One of the first acts of a sovereign in England at that time was to re-appoint the judges who were in office at the demise of his predecessor, or to constitute new ones in their stead. Among other changes, we find Hankford appointed as Chief Justice in the room of Gascoyne, at least within ten days of the King's accession. For any observation which this fact may suggest, so contrary to those histories which repeat tales instead of seeking for the truth in ancient records, we must refer to the chapter in which we have already examined the credibility of the alleged insult offered by Prince Henry to a Judge on the bench of justice.[7]
The first parliament of Henry V. met in the Painted Chamber at Westminster, on Monday, 15th of May. The King was on his throne; but the Bishop of Winchester, his uncle, then Chancellor of England, opened the business of the session. On this, as on many similar occasions, the chancellor, generally a prelate, addressed the assembled states in an oration, half speech and half sermon, upon a passage of Scripture selected as a text. On the opening of this parliament, the chancellor informed the peers and the commons that the King's purpose in calling them together as the Great Council of the nation was threefold:—First, he was desirous of supporting the throne,—"his high and royal estate;" secondly, he was bent on maintaining the law and good government within his realm; and thirdly, he desired to cherish the friends and to resist the enemies of his kingdom. It is remarkable that no mention is made in this parliament at all on the part of the King, or his chancellor, of either heresy or Lollardism. The speaker refers to some tumults, especially at Cirencester, where the populace appear to have attacked the abbey; complaints also were made against the conduct of ordinaries, and some strong enactments were passed against the usurpations of Rome, to which reference will again be made: but not a word in answer to these complaints would lead to the inference that the spirit of persecution was then in the ascendant. It was not till the last day of April 1414, after the affair of St. Giles' Field, that the statute against the Lollards was passed at Leicester.[8] The chancellor at that subsequent period speaks of their treasonable designs to destroy the King having been lately discovered and discomfited; and the record expressly declares that the ordinance was made with the consent and at the prayer of the commons.
But though neither the King nor his council gave any indication, in his first parliament, of a desire to interfere with men's consciences in matters of religion, the churchmen were by no means slumbering at their post. Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury, convened a council of the bishops and clergy, who met by adjournment, in full numbers, at St. Paul's, on the 26th of June 1413;[9] and adopted most rigorous measures for the extirpation of heresy, levelled professedly with a more especial aim against the ringleader of Lollardism, as he was called, the valiant and unfortunate Lord Cobham. On these proceedings we purpose to dwell separately in another part of this work; and, in addition to what we shall there allege, little needs be observed here by way of anticipation. In leaving the subject, however, as far as Henry V.'s character is concerned, it may not be out of place to remark, that historical facts, so far from stamping on him the mark of a religious persecutor, prove that it required all the united efforts of the clergy and laity to induce him to put the existing laws in force against those who were bold enough to dissent from the Romish faith. So far from his "having watched the Lollards as his greatest enemies," so far from "having listened to every calumny which the zeal and hatred of the hierarchy could invent or propagate against the unfortunate followers of Wickliff," (the conduct and disposition ascribed to him by Milner,) we have sufficient proof of the dissatisfaction of the church with him in this respect; and their repeated attempts to excite him to more vigorous measures against the rising and spreading sect. By a minute of council, May 27, 1415, we find that, whilst preparing for his expedition to France, he is reminded to instruct the archbishops and bishops to take measures, each within his respective diocese, to resist the malice of the Lollards. The King merely answered, that he had given the subject in charge to his chancellor; and we are assured that Dr. Thomas Walden,[10] one of the most learned and powerful divines of the day, but very violent in his opposition to the new doctrines, openly inveighed against Henry for his great negligence in regard to the duty of punishing heretics.[11] To his religious sentiments we must again refer in the sequel, and also as the course of events may successively suggest any observations on that head.
When Henry IV. ascended the throne, parliament prayed that the Prince might not leave the realm, but remain in England as the anchor of the people's hopes; and, soon after his own accession,[12] Henry V. is advised by his council to remain near London, that he might receive prompt intelligence of whatever might arise in any quarter, and be able to take immediate steps for the safety of the commonweal. He seems to have carried with him even from his earliest youth, wherever he went, a peculiar talent of exciting confidence in every one. Whether in the field of battle, or the chamber of council,—whether as the young Prince, just initiated in affairs of war and government, or as the experienced captain and statesman,—his contemporaries looked to him as a kind of guardian spirit, to protect them from harm, and lead them onward to good success. No despondency, nor even misgivings, show themselves in the agents of any enterprise in which he was personally engaged. The prodigious effects of these feelings in the English towards their prince were displayed in their full strength, perhaps, at the battle of Agincourt; but similar results are equally, though not so strikingly, visible in many other passages of his life.
Among the various causes to which historians have been accustomed to attribute the general anticipations of good from Henry's reign, which pervaded all classes, is the appointment of Gascoyne to the high station of Chief Justice immediately upon his ascending the throne. But we have already seen that, however gladly an eulogist would seize on such an exalted instance of magnanimity and noble generosity, the truth of history forbids our even admitting its probability in this place. Henry certainly did not re-appoint Gascoyne. But, whilst we cannot admit the tradition which would mark the true character of Henry's mind by his behaviour to the Chief Justice, there is not wanting many an authentic record which would amply account for his almost unprecedented popularity at the very commencement of his reign. Among these we must not omit to notice the resolution which he put in practice of retiring for an hour or more every day, after his early dinner, to receive petitions from any of his subjects, however humble,[13] who would appeal to him for his royal interposition; to examine and consider the several cases patiently; and to redress real grievances. Indeed, numberless little occurrences meet us on every side, which seem to indicate very clearly that he loved the right and hated iniquity; and that he was never more happy than whilst engaged in deeds of justice, mercy, and charity. He seems to have received the golden law for his rule, "See that they who are in need and necessity have right;" and to have rejoiced in keeping that law himself, and compelling all within the sphere of his authority and influence to observe it also.
Another incident recorded of Henry of Monmouth at this period, strongly marking the kindness and generosity and nobleness of his mind, was the removal of the remains of Richard II. from Langley to Westminster. Without implying any consciousness, or even suspicion of guilt, on the part of his father as to Richard's death, we may easily suppose Henry to have regarded the deposition of that monarch as an act of violence, justifiable only on the ground of extreme necessity: he might have considered him as an injured man, by whose fall his father and himself had been raised to the throne. Instead of allowing his name and his mortal remains to be buried in oblivion, (with the chance moreover of raising again in men's minds fresh doubts and surmises of his own title to the throne, for he was not Richard's right heir,) Henry resolved to pay all the respect in his power to the memory of the friend of his youth, and by the only means at his command to make a sort of reparation for the indignities to which the royal corpse had been exposed. He caused the body to be brought in solemn funeral state to Westminster, and there to be buried,[14] with all the honour and circumstance accustomed to be paid to the earthly remains of royalty, by the side of his former Queen, Anne, in the tomb prepared by Richard for her and for himself. The diligent investigator will discover many such incidents recorded of Henry V; some of a more public and important nature than others, but all combining to stamp on his name in broad and indelible letters the character of a truly high-minded, generous, grateful, warm-hearted man.
Another instance of the same feeling, carried, perhaps, in one point a step further in generosity and Christian principle, was evinced in his conduct towards the son of Sir Henry Percy, Hotspur, the former antagonist of his house. This young nobleman had been carried by his friends into Scotland, for safe keeping, on the breaking out of his grandfather's (Northumberland's) rebellion; and was detained there, as some say, in concealment, till Henry V. made known his determination to restore him to his title and estates. The Scots, who were in possession of his person, kept him as a prisoner and hostage; and although Henry might have considered a foreign land the best home for the son of the enemy of his family, yet so bent was he on effecting the noble design of reinstating him in all which his father's and his grandfather's treason had forfeited, that he consented to exchange for him a noble Scot, who had been detained in England for thirteen years. Mordak of Fife, son and heir of the Duke of Albany, had been taken prisoner at the battle of Homildon Hill, in 1402, (it is curious to remark,) by Hotspur, and his father Northumberland; and now Henry V. exchanges this personage for Hotspur's son, the heir of Northumberland. This youth was only an infant when his father fell at the battle of Shrewsbury; his mother was Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Edmund Mortimer,[15] Earl of March: and thus a king, under the circumstances of Henry, but with a less noble mind, might have regarded him with jealousy on both sides of his parentage, and been glad (without exposing himself to the charge of any positive act of harshness) to allow him to remain in a foreign country deprived of his honours and his estates. But Henry's spirit soared above these considerations; and, in the orphan of a generous rival, he saw only a fit object on whom to exercise his generosity and Christian charity. A negotiation was carried on between Henry and some who represented young Percy; care being taken to ascertain the identity of the person who should be offered in exchange for Mordak. After certain prescribed oaths were taken, and pledges given, and the payment of a stipulated sum, 10,000l., the young man was invited to come to Henry's court with all speed.
There seems to have intervened some considerable impediment to this proposed exchange.[16] The commission to John Hull and William Chancellor to convey Mordak to the north bears date 21st of May; and yet instructions for a negotiation with his father, the Duke of Albany, then Regent of Scotland, for the exchange, were issued to Sir Ralph Evre and others, as late as the 10th of the following December. At the parliament, however, held March 16, 1416, Henry Percy, in the presence of the King himself, does homage for his lands and honours. And, before Henry's death, the Pell Rolls record payments to this Earl of Northumberland, appointed guardian of Berwick and the East March, as regularly as, in the early part of Henry IV.'s reign, issues had been made to his father Hotspur, and his grandfather, the aged Earl, for the execution of the same duties. The lands of the Percies, on their attainder, were confiscated, and given to the King's brother, the Duke of Bedford; to whom, on restoring his lands and honours to the young Earl, Henry made an annual compensation in part at least for the loss.[17]
Another example of generous behaviour in the young King towards those whom he had in his power, and of whom less noble minds would have entertained suspicion and jealousy, is seen in his conduct towards the Earl of March.[18] This young nobleman, by the law of primogeniture, was rightful heir to the throne; being descended from Lionel Duke of Clarence, third son of Edward III. And so much was he a cause of apprehension and uneasiness to Henry IV. and his council, that it was thought necessary to keep him in close custody, and also near the person of the King, whenever the court removed towards the borders of the kingdom. It was in the name of this young man that his uncle Edmund Mortimer excited all his tenantry and dependents to join Owyn Glyndowr in rebellion against Henry IV; and on all occasions the malcontents of the whole country, supposing Richard to be dead, held forth the Earl of March as their liege sovereign. Henry V. could not have been charged with unwarrantable suspicions or severity, had he continued the same system of watchfulness over this formidable personage, which had been observed under the reign of his predecessor. Provided only that he treated him with kindness, few would have wondered or complained if he had still kept him as a prisoner on parole.[19] But Henry, to whose guardianship, whilst Prince of Wales, the young Earl had been intrusted, was no sooner seated on the throne, than he admitted this young man into a full share of his confidence; not with the suspicion of a rival, nor with the fear of an enemy, but with the openness of an acknowledged and kind master towards a trustworthy and devoted servant. The references to him which are found in the authentic records of that time (and they are not a few) all tend to establish this point.[20] Henry immediately gave him, on his coming of age, full and free possession of all his manors, castles, lands, advowsons, and honours; and seems to have had him continually in his retinue as a companion and friend. On one occasion we may suppose that Henry's suspicions and apprehensions of danger from the young Earl must have been roused; and yet we find him still continued in his confidence, and still left without any restraint or estrangement. When the conspiracy against Henry was discovered at Southampton, the Earl of Cambridge, (as we shall see more in detail hereafter,) in his letter of confession, declares it to have been the intention of the conspirators to carry the Earl of March into Wales, and to proclaim him as their lawful king. How far the young Earl was privy to this conspiracy, or to what extent he was "art and part" in it, does not distinctly appear. An expression, indeed, in the early part of the Earl of Cambridge's letter, "Having the Earl of March by his own consent, and by the assent of myself," should seem to imply that he was by no means ignorant of the plans of the conspirators, nor averse to them. How far, moreover, Henry thought him guilty, is matter of doubt; but certain it is, that he deemed it necessary to have the King's pardon regularly signed in the usual manner for all treasons, felonies, and misdemeanors. The instrument bears date August 7, 1415, at Southampton. This document, however, by no means proves his guilt: on many occasions such patents of pardon were granted to prevent malicious and vexatious prosecutions. Nevertheless, at all events, it shows that Henry's thoughts must have been especially drawn to the relative circumstances under which himself and the Earl of March were placed; and yet he continued to behave towards him with the same confidence and friendship as before. Two years afterwards, Henry appointed him his lieutenant at sea, with full powers; yet so as not to supersede the privileges and authority of the high admiral, the Duke of Exeter.[21] The following year, in the summer, he was made lieutenant and guardian-general of all Normandy; and in the December of the same year he was commissioned to receive the homage and oaths of all in that country who owed suit and service to the King. He fought side by side with Henry at the field of Agincourt; and there seems to have grown stronger and riper between them a spirit of friendship and mutual confidence.[22]
These are a few among the many examples upon record of the generous and noble spirit of Henry; whilst history may be challenged to bring forward any instances of cruelty or oppression to neutralize them. Sir Matthew Hale confessed that he could never discover any act of public injustice and tyranny during the Lancastrian sway; and the inquirer into Henry of Monmouth's character may be emboldened to declare, that he can discover no act of wanton severity, or cruelty, or unkindness in his life. The case of the prisoners in the day and on the field of Agincourt, the fate of Lord Cobham, and the wars in France, require each a separate examination; and in our inquiry we must not forget the kind, and gentle, and compassionate spirit which appears to breathe so naturally and uniformly from his heart: on the other hand, we must not suffer ourselves to be betrayed into such a full reliance on his character for mercy, as would lead us to give a blind implicit sanction to all his deeds of arms. In our estimate of his character, moreover, as indicated by his conduct previously to his first invasion of France, and during his struggles and conquests there, it is quite as necessary for us to bear in mind the tone, and temper, and standard of political and moral government which prevailed in his age, as it is essential for us, when we would estimate his religious character, to recollect what were in that age throughout Christendom the acknowledged principles of the church in communion with the see of Rome.
On Monday, April 30, 1414, Henry met his parliament at Leicester.[23] Why it was not held at Westminster, we have no positive reasons assigned in history;[24] and the suggestion of some, that the enactments there made against the Lollards were too hateful to be passed at the metropolis, is scarcely reasonable.[25] The Bishop of Winchester, as Chancellor, set forth in very strong language the treasonable practices lately discovered and discomfited; and the parliament enacted a very severe law against all disturbers of the peace of the realm and of the unity of the church. It is generally said that the reading of the Bible in English was forbidden in this session under very severe penalties; but no such enactment seems to have been recorded. The prelates, however, were the judges of what heresy was; and to study the Holy Scriptures in the vernacular language might well have seemed to them a very dangerous practice; to be checked, therefore, with a strong hand. The judges, and other state officers, were directed to take an oath to exert themselves for the suppression of Lollardism.
Again and again are we reminded, through the few years of Henry's reign, that the cause of liberty was progressive; and any encroachments of the royal prerogative upon the liberties of the Commons were restrained and corrected, with the free consent and full approbation of the King. A petition in English, presented to him in this parliament, in many respects a curious document, with the King's answer, bears testimony to the same point. "Our sovereign lord,—your humble and true lieges that been come for the commons of your land, beseech unto your right righteousness, that so as it hath ever been their liberty and freedom that there should be no statute nor law made otherwise than they gave their assent thereto, considering that the commons of your land (the which is and ever hath been a member of your parliament) been as well assenters as petitioners, that from this time forward, by complaint of the commons of any mischief asking remedy by mouth of their Speaker, or else by petition written, that there never be no law made thereupon, and engrossed as statute and law, neither by addition, neither by diminution, by no manner of term or terms, the which should change the sentence and the intent asked by the Speaker's mouth, or the petitions before said, given up in writing without assent of the aforesaid commons." To this petition the following answer was made: "The King, of his grace especial, granteth, that from henceforth nothing be enacted to the petitions of his commons that be contrary to their asking, whereby they should be bound without their assent; saving alway to our liege lord his real prerogative to grant or deny what him lust of their petitions and askings aforesaid."
This parliament was adjourned from Leicester, and re-assembled at Westminster on the Octaves of St. Martin, 18th November 1414. The most gratifying record of this great council of the realm is that which informs us of the restoration of Henry Percy to his estates and honours. The most important subject to which the thoughts of the peers and commons were drawn was the King's determination to recover his rights in the realm of France.
The motives which influenced Henry to undertake this extraordinary step can be known only to the Searcher of hearts. Some writers, in their excessive zeal for Protestantism, anxiously bent on stamping upon Henry the character of an ambitious tyrant and a religious persecutor, employ no measured language in their condemnation of his designs against France. Milner thus gives his summary of the proceedings of this reign at home and abroad. "Henry Chicheley, now Archbishop of Canterbury, continued at the head of that see from February 1414, to April 1443. This man deserves to be called the firebrand of the age in which he lived. To subserve the purposes of his own pride and tyranny, he engaged King Henry in his famous contest with France, by which a prodigious carnage was made of the human race, and the most dreadful miseries were brought upon both kingdoms. But Henry was a soldier, and understood the art of war, though perfectly ignorant of religion; and that ardour of spirit, which in youth[26] had spent itself in vicious indulgences, was now employed under the management of Chicheley in desolating France by one of the most unjust wars ever waged by ambition, and in furnishing for vulgar minds matter of declamation on the valour of the English nation. While this scene was carrying on in France, the Archbishop at home, partly by exile, partly by forced abjurations, and partly by the flames, domineered over the Lollards, and almost effaced the vestiges of godliness in the kingdom."
These are very hard words, much more readily written than justified. Such sentences of condemnation require a much clearer insight into the workings of the human heart than falls to the lot of any human being to possess, when he would examine into the motives of a fellow-mortal. It is very easy by one sweeping clause to denounce the war as unjust, and to ascribe it to the ambition of Henry, reckless of human suffering. But truth requires us to weigh the whole matter far more patiently, and to substitute evidence in the place of assumptions, and argument instead of declamation. And it is impossible for the biographer of Henry V. to carry his reader with him through the scenes of his preparation for the struggle with France, and his conduct in the several campaigns which chiefly engaged from this time till his death all the energies of his mind and body, without recalling somewhat in detail the circumstances of Henry's position at this time. This, however, will require also a brief review of the state of France through some previous years of her internal discords and misery. Reserving them for another chapter, there are some circumstances of a more private and domestic character which it might be well for us first to mention in this place.
That Henry was habitually under the influence of strong religious feelings, though his views of Christian doctrine partook much of the general superstition of the age, is evident; and one of the first acts of his government was to satisfy his own conscience, and to give full testimony to the church of his piety, and zeal, and devotedness, by founding three religious houses. When, exactly a century later, Richard Fox, Bishop of Winchester, communicated to his friend, Hugh Oldham, Bishop of Exeter, his intention of founding a monastery, his friend, instead of giving him encouragement to proceed with his plan, remonstrated with him on the folly of building houses, and providing a maintenance for monks, who would live in idleness, unprofitable to themselves and to society;[27] urging him at the same time rather to found a college for the encouragement of sound learning: and the College of Corpus Christi in Oxford owes its existence, humanly speaking, to that sound admonition. Perhaps, had Henry V. been fortunate enough to meet with so able and honest an adviser, Oxford might have had within its walls now another nursery of religion and learning,—a monument of his piety and of his love for whatever was commendable and of good report. Our Oxford chronicles record his expressed intention both to reform the statutes of the University, and also to found an establishment within the castle walls, annexing to it all the alien priories in England for its endowment, in which efficient provision should be made for the instruction of youth in all the best literature of the age.[28] Had he first resolved to found his college, and reserved his religious houses for later years, his work might still have been flourishing at this day, and might have yet continued to flourish till the hand of spoliation and refined barbarism shall be strong and bold enough (should ever such a calamity visit our native land) to wrest these seminaries of Christian principles and sound learning from the friends of religion, and order, and peace. As it is, Henry's establishments survived him little more than a century; and the lands which he had destined to support them passed away into other hands, and were alienated from religious purposes altogether.
The sites which Henry selected for his establishments were, one at Shene, in Surrey; the other at Sion, in the manor of Isleworth, on the Thames.
The terms of the foundation-charters of these religious houses, their rules, and circumstances, and possessions, it does not fall within the plan of this work to specify in detail. The brothers and sisters admitted into these asylums appear to have been bound by very strict rules of self-denial and poverty.
The monastery at Shene, built on the site of Richard II.'s palace, which he never would enter after the loss of his wife Anne, who died there, and which on that account he utterly destroyed, was called "The House of Jesus of Bethlehem," and was dedicated "to the honour, and glory, and exaltation of the name of Jesus most dear;" Henry expressing in the foundation-charter, among sentiments less worthy of an enlightened Christian, and savouring of the superstition of those days, that he founded the institution in pious gratitude for the blessings of time and of eternity, which flow only from Him.
The house of Sion in Isleworth, or Mount Sion, as it is called in the Pope's bull of confirmation, was dedicated "to the honour, praise, and glory of the Trinity most High, of the Virgin Mary, of the Disciples and Apostles of God, of all Saints, and especially of the most holy Bridget." This house was suppressed by Henry VIII; when the nuns fled from their native country, and took refuge, first in Zealand, then at Mechlin, whence they removed to Rouen; at last, fifteen reached Lisbon in 1594. The history of this little company of sisters is very remarkable and interesting. In Lisbon they were well received, and were afterwards supported by royal bounty, as well as by the benevolence of individuals. They seem to have settled there peaceably, and to have lived in their own house, and to have had their own church, for more than fifty years. In 1651 their house and church were both burnt to the ground; but, through the beneficence of the pious, they had the happiness of seeing them restored. In 1755 this little community suffered in common with the other unfortunate inhabitants of Lisbon, and seem to have lost their all in the earthquake. In their distress they cast their eyes to the land of their fathers, and applied for the charity of their countrymen. There is something very affecting in the language of the petition by which our countrywomen in their calamity sought to excite the sympathy, and obtain the benevolent aid, of their fellow-Christians at home.
We, the underwritten, and company, having on the 1st of November last suffered such irreparable losses and damage by the dreadful earthquake and fire which destroyed this city and other parts of the kingdom, that we have neither house nor sanctuary left us wherein to retire; nor even the necessaries of life, it being out of the power of our friends and benefactors here to relieve us, they all having undergone the same misfortune and disaster. So that we see no other means of establishing ourselves than by applying to the nobility, ladies, and gentlemen of our dear country, humbly imploring your tender compassion and pious charity; that, so being assisted and succoured from your bountiful hands, we may for the present subsist under our deplorable misfortune, and in time retrieve so much of our losses as to be able to continue always to pray for the prosperity and conservation of our benefactors.
Augustus Sulyard, Eliz. Hodgeskin,
Peter Willcock. Frances Huddleston,
Cath. Baldwin,
Winifred Hill.
Sion House, Lisbon,
May 25, 1756.
Through another fifty years, the little band, still keeping up the succession by novices from England, remained in the land of their refuge; till, in 1810, nine of them, the majority, it is said, of the survivors, fled from the horrors of war to their native island; and their convent, whose founder was Henry, the greatest general of his age, became the barracks of English soldiers under Wellington, the greatest general of the present day. On their first return they lived in a small house in Walworth; and in 1825, the remainder, now advanced in years and reduced to two or three in number, were still living in the vicinity of the Potteries in Staffordshire,—the last remnant of an English convent dissolved in the time of Henry VIII. There are at this time mulberry-trees growing at Sion House, one of the Duke of Northumberland's[29] mansions, which are believed, not only to have been living, but to have borne fruit, in the time of the monastery.[30]
Henry seems to have had much at heart the intellectual, moral, and religious improvement of those who might be admitted to a share of his bounty in these establishments. The Pell Rolls record a payment "of 100l. part only of a larger sum, to the prior and convent of Mount Grace, for books and other things to be supplied by them to his new foundation at Sion."[31] Whether the prior and brethren of Mount Grace had duplicates, or were mere agents, or parted with their own stock to meet the wishes of their King, the record does not tell.
CHAPTER XVIII.
state of the church. — henry a sincere christian, but no bigot. — degraded state of religion. — council of constance. — henry's representatives zealous promoters of reform. — hallam, bishop of salisbury, avowed enemy of the popedom. — richard ulleston: primitive views of clerical duties. — walden, his own chaplain, accuses henry of remissness in the extirpation of heresy. — forester's letter to the king. — henry beaufort's unhappy interference. — petition from oxford. — henry's personal exertions in the business of reform. — reflections on the then apparent dawn of the reformation.
1414-1417.
Some writers, (taking a very narrow and prejudiced view of the affairs of the age to which our thoughts are directed in these Memoirs, and of the agents employed in those transactions,) when they tell us, that Henry was so devotedly attached to the church, and so zealous a friend of her ministers, that he was called the Prince of Priests, would have us believe that he "entirely resigned his understanding to the guidance of the clergy." But his principles and his conduct in ecclesiastical matters have been misunderstood, and very unfairly exaggerated and distorted. That Henry was a sincere believer in the religion of the Cross is unquestionable; and that, in common with the large body of believers through Christendom, he had been bred up in the baneful error of identifying the Catholic church of Christ with the see of Rome, is in some points of view equally evident: but that he was a supporter of the Pope against the rights of the church in England and other his dominions, or was an upholder of the abuses which had then overspread the whole garden of Christ's heritage, so far from being established by evidence, is inconsistent with the testimony of facts. The usurpations of the Romish see called for resistance,[32] and Henry to a certain extent resisted them. The abuses in the church needed reformation, and Henry showed that he possessed the spirit of a real reformer, bent on the correction of what was wrong, but uncompromising in his maintenance of the religion which he embraced in his heart. He gave proof of a spirit more Catholic than Roman, more Apostolic than Papal.
In his very first parliament strong enactments were passed forbidding ecclesiastics to receive bishoprics and benefices from Rome, on pain of forfeiture and exile. And on complaints being made against the ordinaries, Henry's answer is very characteristic of his principles of church reform: "I will direct the bishops to remedy these evils themselves; and, if they fail, then I will myself take the matter into my own hands."
He had been little more than half a year on the throne,[33] when he sent a peremptory mandate to the bishops of Aquitain, that they should on no account obey any provision from the court of Rome, by which preferment would be given to an enemy of England. And in the following month, Dec. 11, 1413, Henry issued a prohibition, forbidding John Bremore, clerk, whom the Pope had recommended to him when Prince of Wales, to return to the court of Rome for the purpose of carrying on mischievous designs against the King and his people, under a penalty of 100l. And among his own bishops, countenanced and confidentially employed by himself, were found men who protested honestly and decidedly against the tyranny and corruption of Rome, and were as zealously bent on restoring the church to the purity of its better days, as were those martyrs to the truth who in the middle of the next century sealed their testimony by their blood. To what extent Henry V. must be regarded as having given a fair promise that, had he lived, he would have devoted the energies of his mind to work out such an effective reformation as would have satisfied the majority of the people in England, and left little in that way for his successors to do, every one must determine for himself. In forming our judgment, however, we must take into account, not only what he actually did, but also whatever the tone, and temper, and turn of his mind (from such intimations as we may be enabled to glean scattered up and down through his life) might seem to have justified persons in anticipating. It would be vain to build any theory on what might have happened had the course of Providence in Henry's destinies been different: and yet we may without presumption express a belief that, had his life been spared, and had he found himself seated in peace and security on the united throne of England and France, instead of exhausting his resources, his powers of body and mind, and his time, in a fruitless crusade to the Holy Land, (by which he certainly once purposed to vindicate the honour of his Redeemer's name,) he might have concentrated all his vast energies on the internal reformation of the church itself. Instead of leaving her then large possessions for the hand of the future spoiler, he might have effectually provided for their full employment in the religious education of the whole people, and in the maintenance of a well-educated, pious, and zealous body of clergy, restored to their pastoral duties and devoted to the ministry. That the church needed a vigorous and thorough, but honest and friendly reform,—not the confiscation of her property to personal aggrandizement and secular purposes, but the re-adjustment of what had degenerated from its original intention,—is proved by evidence most painfully conclusive. Indeed, the enormities which had grown up, and which were defended and cherished by the agents of Rome, far exceed both in number and magnitude the present general opinion with regard to those times. The Conventual system[34] had well nigh destroyed the efficiency of parochial ministrations: what was intended for the support of the pastor, was withdrawn to uphold the dignity and luxury of the monastery; parsonage houses were left to fall to decay, and hirelings of a very inferior class were employed on a miserable pittance to discharge their perfunctory duties as they might. "Provisions" from Rome had exempted so large a proportion of the spirituality from episcopal jurisdiction, that, even had all the bishops been appointed on the principle of professional excellence, their power of restoring discipline would have been lamentably deficient. But in their appointment was evinced the most reckless prostitution of their sacred order. Not only was the selection of bishops made without reference to personal merit and individual fitness, whilst regard was had chiefly to high connexions and the interests of the Papacy; but even children were made bishops, and the richest dignities of the church were heaped upon them: foreigners unacquainted with the language of the people were thrust into offices, for the due discharge of the duties of which a knowledge of the vernacular language was absolutely necessary. The courts ecclesiastical ground down the clergy by shameless extortions; whilst appeals to Rome put a complete bar against any suit for justice. Their luxury and excesses, their pride and overbearing presumption, their devotedness to secular pursuits, the rapacious aggrandizement of themselves and their connexions, and the total abandonment of their spiritual duties in the cure of souls, coupled with an ignorance almost incredible, had brought the large body of the clergy into great disrepute, and had filled sincere Christians (whether lay or clerical, for there were many exceptions among the clergy themselves) with an ardent longing for a thorough and efficient reformation. It is true that their indignation was chiefly roused by the prostitution of the property of the church, and its alienation from the holy purposes for which the church was endowed; and that gross neglect of discipline rather than errors in doctrine called into life the spirit of reformation: but even in points of faith we perceive in many clear signs of a genuine love of Evangelical and Catholic truth; among whom we are not without evidence sufficient to justify us in numbering the subject of these Memoirs. Henry of Monmouth, whilst he adhered constantly to the faith of his fathers, yet manifested a sincere desire to become more perfectly acquainted with the truth of the Gospel; and spared no pains, even during his career of war and victory, in providing himself with the assistance of those teachers who had the reputation of preaching the Gospel most sincerely and efficiently. Henry's, indeed, was not the religion which would substitute in the scale of Christian duties punctuality of attendance on frequent preaching for the higher and nobler exercises of adoration. Many an unobtrusive incident intimates that his soul took chief delight in communing with God by acts of confession, and prayer, and praise. He seems to have imbibed the same spirit which in a brother-monarch once gave utterance to expressions no less valuable in the matter of sound theology, than exquisitely beautiful in their conception:[35] "I had rather pass an hour in conversation with my friend than hear twenty discourses in his praise." And yet Henry delighted also in hearing Heaven's message of reconciliation faithfully expounded, and enforced home.
Whilst, for example, he was pursuing his conquests in Normandy, the report no sooner reached him of a preacher named Vincentius, (who was labouring zealously in the cause of Christ in various parts of Brittany, and who was said by his earnest and affectionate preaching to have converted many to the Lord their God,) than Henry sent for him, and took great delight in hearing his faithful expositions of the word of truth and life. And we have good reason for believing that the consolations of the pure doctrines of the Gospel, as a guardian angel ministering the cup of Heaven, attended him through life and in death.
There is no intimation dropped by historians, nor is it intended in these Memoirs to intimate, that Henry's eyes were opened to the doctrinal errors of the church of Rome. But there are circumstances well worthy of consideration before we pronounce definitively on that point. When we bear in mind that, in those days, prayers and vows were habitually made to the Virgin for success, and, after any prosperous issue of the supplicants' exertions in war or peace, offerings of thanksgiving were addressed to her as the giver of victory and of every blessing; and whilst, at the same time, we find in Henry of Monmouth's letters and words no acknowledgment of any help but God's only; the question may be fairly entertained, whether he had not imbibed some portion of the pure light of Gospel truth on this very important article of Christian faith. The Author is well aware of the words at the close of his Will, referred to hereafter; and is very far from saying that he should be surprised to find other instances of a similar character. Still Henry's silence as to the power and assistance of the Virgin, the absence of prayer to her in his devotions, many of which are especially recorded; the absence of praise to her after victory and success, though he was very far from taking praise to himself, always ascribing it to God Almighty only, may seem to justify the suggestion of an inquiry into this point.
For a knowledge of the degraded state to which the church had sunk, and her inefficiency as the guardian and dispenser of religious truth, we are not left to the vague representations of declaimers, or the heated exaggerations of those by whom everything savouring of Rome is held in abomination. The preambles of the laws which were intended to cure the evils, bear the most direct and full evidence of their existence and extent. One parliamentary document, after prefacing that "Benefices were founded for the honour of God, the good of the founders, the government and relief of the parishioners, and the advancement of the clergy," then states "that the spiritual patrons, the regular clergy throughout the whole realm, mischievously appropriate to themselves the said benefices, and lamentably cast to the ground the houses and buildings, and cruelly take away and destroy divine service, hospitality, and other works of charity, which used to be performed in the said benefices to the poor and distressed; that they exclude and ever debar the clergymen from promotion, and privately convey the treasure of the realm in great sums to the court of Rome,—to the confusion of their own souls, the grievous desolation of the parishioners[36] and the whole country, the ultimate ruin of the clergy, the great impoverishment of the realm, and the irrecoverable ruin of the holy church of England."[37]
A case argued before the judges in the time of Henry IV, very interesting in itself, and closely connected in many points with the subject of this chapter, is recorded in the Year Books. The argument arose on a writ of Quare impedit, directed against Halomm (Hallam) Bishop of Salisbury and Chichel (Chicheley) Bishop of St. David's, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. The question at issue regarded the voidance of a prebend in the church of Salisbury, caused by Chicheley being created Bishop of St. David's, who held that prebend, to which he had been presented by Richard Medford, a former Bishop of Sarum. Against the King's claim of right of presentation to the void prebend, the defendants answered that the Pope had granted to Chicheley licence to enjoy all the preferments which he held before, together with his bishopric. For the King's right it was pleaded, that the creation of Chicheley took place whilst the temporalities of Sarum were in the hands of the King, on the translation of Hallam from York to Sarum;[38] but the question at length turned virtually upon the power of the see of Rome to dispense with the laws of England.
In the first sitting (Mich. 11 Henry IV.—i.e. 1409), Horton for the defendants alleged, "We continued in possession of the prebend after Richard Hallam had received the temporalities from the hands of the King. Subsequently to which, and before we were created Bishop of St. David's, our Saint Peter the Apostle, reciting by his bulls that we were elected Bishop of St. David's, granted us licence to enjoy all our other benefices." On which, Thirning, Justice, observed, "The grant of the Apostle in this case cannot change the law of the land." To which Hankford (who proved himself throughout the most zealous supporter of the omnipotence of the Popedom) merely replied, "The Pope can do all things;" his use of the Latin words evidently showing that he was quoting a dictum,—"Papa omnia potest." After some discussion, and a reference to former precedents chiefly alleged by Hankford, Thirning rejoins very significantly, "That was in ancient times, and I will not raise the question as to the power of the Apostle; but I cannot see how he by his bulls can change the law of England."[39] In the third deliberation, Culpeper says, "The intention of the statute is now to be considered; and I conceive that it was made to protect the King and other patrons in their rights, and to restrain the encroachment of the Apostle which he makes against the law." On the third discussion, Till argued, "Since by the law of the land the creation of a bishop causes a voidance in fact of a benefice before held, and by such voidance the title of presentation or collation accrues to the patron, I say that the Apostle can by no grant beforehand oust the patron of his right, and restrain the title which ought to accrue to him upon such creation: for if so, he ought to restrain and change the course of inheritance by the law of the land; and that he cannot do, no more than if the King wished to give or grant to a man that he should hold his lands after he has entered upon a monastic life, and professed; for such grant would be contrary to the common law of the land, and therefore would be altogether void. So also in this case." To this argument Horton replied, among other points, "I take it that the Apostle may grant to a man to hold three bishoprics at a time;" in which Hankford agreed, "provided it were with the consent of the patrons." On which Skeene observed, "If the Pope made such a grant, the King might retain the temporalities in his own hands, if he wished it." To this observation, Hankford, among many other things, said, "The Apostle can in many cases change the course of the law of the land, and prevent the occurrence of that which ought to follow." The same judge, pressing again the argument on which he had before relied, asks, "What say ye? suppose the Apostle, before a man becomes a professed monk, grants him a dispensation to hold his benefices after his profession?"—"I say," replied Hill, "that in such a case he cannot deprive me of my right of patronage."
The question at issue was found to be so difficult of solution, and the judges viewed the law of the case in such opposite lights, that it was argued and debated between them by adjournment in four several terms; at length the advocates of the Pope's omnipotence gave way, and judgment was given for the Crown.[40]
Among many memorable facts recorded by the Year Book during the progress of this cause, most persons probably will regard with interest the resistance made by the Crown, at this period, against the encroachments of the Pope,—the boundless power, ecclesiastical and political, assumed and exercised by the pontiff, and conceded to him in England,—and, at the same time, the spirit which shows itself on the part of some of our judges to vindicate the supremacy of the law of England over the alleged omnipotence of the court of Rome. The great difference of opinion also as to the power of the Pope, expressed by the members of the judicial bench, cannot fail to interest every Englishman, whether lawyer or not; whilst the terms in which some of the judges speak of the encroachments of the Apostolic see, against which the legislature of England had deemed it necessary to enact some stringent laws, are not a little remarkable. But to Protestants of the present day, perhaps the most surprising feature of all may appear to be the title ascribed to the Pope by the judges, whilst publicly and solemnly dispensing the laws of the country. They do not speak of him as the Pope, except once in the citation of a Latin dictum; nor do they refer to him as a sovereign pontiff exercising the delegated authority of the chief Apostle, and representing him in the church militant on earth: they do not give him the title of "successor to St. Peter," or "our father filling the Apostolic chair:"—they speak of him throughout in direct terms as "the Apostle;" and in some passages they even call him "Saint Peter," and "our Saint Peter" the Apostle.[41] It is however very curious, in tracing the argument in this cause, to lay the strong terms employed by the advocates of the Pope's paramount authority side by side with the striking expressions used by others of those high functionaries on the supremacy of the English law, and the inability of the Apostolic see in the plenitude of its power to change or dispense with the common or statute law of the realm.
Abuses such as we have referred to in the previous sections of this chapter prevailed everywhere, and called loudly for vigorous measures to rectify them. At the same period the church through Christendom was distracted and torn by contending factions, each supporting a pontiff of its own.
To put an end to these disgraceful and unhappy feuds, as destructive of the peace of Europe as they were hurtful to the cause of true religion, and to effect a full reformation in the church, the Council of Constance was professedly convened. That synod was summoned nominally by Pope John XXIII, but in reality by the united voice of the sovereigns of Europe, especially at the instance of the Emperor Sigismund himself. It falls not within the province of these Memoirs to record the proceedings of that council, either in extinguishing the flame of discord within the pale of the church, or in kindling the sadder flame of persecution[42] against all who dared to think for themselves in a matter peculiarly their own, or in its lamentable forgetfulness of the abuses for the correction of which it was mainly convened. The records of the Council of Constance, however, abound in matters of interest in connection with the immediate and professed object of this work. We infer from them that Henry V. was then taking a lead in religious matters, and, whilst he was anxious to resist the overbearing tyranny of Rome, he was at the same time bent on making the religious establishment within his own kingdom an efficient means of conveying to all his subjects the blessings of the Gospel; he was an honest reformer of abuses, but, at the same time, the conscientious and uncompromising supporter of the religion of his fathers.
It was on the 20th of October 1414, that Robert Hallam, Bishop of Salisbury, the Bishops of Bath and Hereford, the Abbot of Westminster, the Prior of Worcester, Lord Warwick, and others, were commissioned by Henry to proceed to Constance, and as his representatives[43] to treat about the reformation of the universal church; or, as the Pell Rolls speak, "for the salvation of Christian souls." Another body of commissioners was subsequently sent, when not less than four hundred Englishmen went in company of the embassy, among whom were reckoned two archbishops, seven bishops, and many other lords and gentlemen. Of those who were first commissioned by Henry, Robert Hallam (or Allam) was most strenuous in urging the work of reformation before and above all other matters with which they had to do. The Cardinals were equally urgent to have the election of Pope first settled, and then to proceed afterwards to the question of reformation. The Bishop of Salisbury, acting, doubtless, with the full approbation, it may be at the immediate suggestion of Henry, was instant, in season and out of season, in forcing the work of reformation on the Council. He was called the Emperor's right hand, so entirely did he and Sigismund co-operate for this purpose. Indeed, the English generally appear at first to have been among the principal promoters of reform, and, as long as Hallam lived, to have pursued it zealously; but on his death[44] they were much less noted for the same zeal. Previously, however, to that event, a great schism arose among the English at Constance, and the authority of the bishops was much disregarded. To remedy these disorders, Henry wrote a peremptory letter (18 July 1417), commanding all his people to be obedient to the bishops, and to abstain from all factious conduct; enjoining them, on pain of forfeiting their goods, either to behave in a manner becoming his subjects, or to return home; directing also, that, in all differences of opinion, the minority should conform to the decision of the majority.
Bishop Hallam entertained a most rooted antipathy to the Pope and the Popedom; and he once gave expression to his sentiments so freely and unreservedly to the Pope himself, that his Holiness complained grievously of him to the Emperor: but Sigismund was himself too heartily bent on reforming the abuses of the Popedom to chide the zeal and freedom of the English prelate. On one occasion the Bishop maintained that a General Council was superior to the Pope (a doctrine subsequently recognised, but then, as it should seem, new and bold); on another he is reported to have gone so far as to affirm that the Pope, for his enormities, deserved to be burnt alive. Bishop Hallam[45] was by no means singular either in the sentiments which he entertained with regard to the corruptions of the Romish Church "in its head and its members," and the imperative necessity of an universal reform, or in the unreserved boldness and plainness with which he published those sentiments. The whole of Christendom rang with loud and bitter complaints against the avarice, the sensuality, the overreaching and overbearing tyranny, the total degeneracy and worthlessness of the Popes, the Cardinals, and the religious orders; but in no place were the protests against such deplorable corruptions more unsparingly uttered than at the Council of Constance itself: and among those who willingly offered themselves to testify, in their Saviour's name, against such a prostitution of his blessed Gospel to the purposes of worldly ambition, such gross depravity and total neglect of duty, the names of many of our own countrymen are recorded. These pillars of the church, these lights in the midst of darkness, seem indeed to have entertained sentiments, as to the duties and responsibilities of the Christian priesthood, worthy of the purest age. Some of their recorded doctrines are truly edifying, and find a response in some of the best episcopal charges and admonitions of the Protestant church at the present day.
Among these excellent men, Dr. Richard Ullerston, of Oxford, seems to have taken a most primitive view of the duties of a Christian bishop. He wrote a treatise in 1408, by way of memorial for Bishop Hallam, his friend, who urged him to the work, when that uncompromising reformer went to the Council of Pisa. At the close of a long and powerful exhortation to provide for the due execution by the Popes of their own ministerial duties, and for the restoration of discipline in the church, he thus expresses himself: "Things being thus restored to their right order, and all abuses being cut away, the Pope will employ himself, agreeably to the duties of his charge, in procuring peace for Christians, not only by praying, but by preaching the Gospel himself, and sending everywhere good preachers, who by their doctrine and example might urge on princes and people throughout the world their several duties, and who might make a holy war upon the passions of mankind, rooting up those sensual desires which, according to St. James, are the source of wars and divisions in the church and in the state." This treatise was published in Germany about the year 1700, from a manuscript in Trinity College, Cambridge; and may be found at the end of Van der Hardt's work on the Council of Constance. It consists chiefly of petitions for the remedy of abuses, and is full from beginning to end of the true spirit of genuine evangelical religion. Dr. Ullerston remained in uninterrupted and perfect communion with the church of Rome; and yet no Protestant, who ever suffered at the stake for his opposition to her, could have more faithfully exposed the practical grievances under which Christendom then mourned in consequence of her dereliction of duty, whilst she assumed to herself all supreme authority, and paralyzed the efforts of national churches to remedy the crying evils of the time. The heads of Ullerston's petitions abound with salutary suggestions; by many of the items we are apprised of the grievances then chiefly complained of, or the departments in which those grievances were found.
1. On the election of a Pope.
2. On the suppression of simony.
3. On the exaltation of the law of Christ above all human authority.
4. Against appropriations, i. e. assigning the proceeds of parochial cures to monasteries.
5. On appointing only fit persons to ecclesiastical stations.
6. Against exemptions of monasteries and individuals from episcopal jurisdiction.
7. Against dispensations,—those, among others, by which benefices and bishoprics were given to children.
8. Against pluralities.
9. Against appeals to Rome.
10. Against the abuse of privileges.
11. Against the clergy devoting themselves to secular affairs.
12. Against the prerogatives of chanters[46] and other officers in the houses of the great.
13. Generally against extortions.
14. Against excessive expenses in the persons and the families of the clergy.
15. For a provision for more efficient divine service in parishes.
16. For the restoration of peace through Christendom.
In his reflections on these points there is so much sound sense and genuine affection for true religion, such an ardent desire pervades them of promoting the ends for which alone an establishment can be justified on warrant of Scripture, or is in itself desirable,—the salvation of souls through Christ for ever,—that, had it not been out of place, the Author would have gladly transcribed a great part of Dr. Ullerston's sentiments into these pages. His suggestions savour throughout of genuine piety and true practical wisdom.
To Ullerston must be added Walter Dysse, who was commissioned by Pope Boniface IX. to proceed to Spain, Portugal, and Aquitain, to preach a crusade against the infidels. He was a most deadly enemy to the followers of Wicliffe, and a devoted friend to the court of Rome; yet he could not pass over in silence the cause of the divisions and corruptions of the church, nor the means of their effectual reformation.
But, perhaps, among all those whom the history of this Council records as zealous promoters of a real reformation within the church itself, our more immediate object in these Memoirs would require us to make especial mention of Thomas Walden, because he was one of Henry of Monmouth's own chaplains,[47] and was employed by him not only in domestic concerns, but in foreign embassies.[48] He was called the Netter, from the expertness and success with which he caught and mastered his antagonists in argument. He was present at the Council of Pisa as well as of Constance. He proved himself throughout a most bitter persecutor of heretics; and (as Van der Hardt expresses himself) the less imbued he was with any affection towards the disciples of Huss, or influenced by it, so much the more sincere a censor was he of the ecclesiastical corruptions of his time. He was bent on reforming the abuses of the church with a strong hand, and so far the wishes of his royal master coincided with his own; but he could not prevail upon the King to go hand-in-hand with him in persecuting the heretics. Walden was bold enough, in his mistaken zeal, to charge Henry with a culpable remissness in what was then too generally supposed to be the duty of a Christian sovereign.[49]
A communication made personally to Henry from Constance, in the beginning of the year 1417,[50] deserves in this place our especial attention. The letter, written by John Forester,[51] may perhaps be considered a fair specimen of correspondence between Englishmen of education at that period. As a vehicle of information on the real state of feeling in England with regard to the church of Rome, it is very interesting. It is, moreover, impossible to read it without inferring that, in the opinion of the writer at least, and of those in whose behalf he wrote, Henry's earnest desire was to reform the abuses of the church, and to render churchmen zealous servants of the Gospel.
JOHN FORESTER'S LETTER FROM CONSTANCE TO HENRY V.
"My sovereign liege Lord, and most redoubted Prince Christian to me on earth. I recommend me unto your high royal and imperial Majesty with all manner [of] honours, worships, grace, and goodnesses. My most glorious Lord, liketh you to wit, that the Wednesday, the third hour after noon, or near thereto, the seven and twentieth day of January, your brother['s] gracious person the King of Rome entered the city of Constance with your livery of the Collar about his neck,—a glad sight for all your liege men to see,—with a solemn procession of all estates, both of Cardinals of all nations, and your Lords in their best array with all your nation. He received your Lords graciously, with right good cheer. Of all the worshipful men of your nation he touched their hands, [and theirs] only, in all the great press. And then went my Lord of Salisbury [Hallam] before heartily to the place of the general Council, where that royal King should rest; and he entered into the pulpit where the Cardinal Candacence,[52] chief of the nation of France, and your especial enemy also, had purposed to have made the first collation[53] before the King,[54] in worship of the French nation. But my Lord of Salisbury kept possession, in worship of you and your nation; and he made there a right good collation that pleased the King right well: and forasmuch as the King was fasting at that hour, then would no man occupy him more that day; but on the morn (my liege Lord) liketh you to wit, that at nine of the bell all your ambassadors, with all your nation in their best array, went to worship him in his palace, and that he gave them glad and gracious audience. There my Lord of Chester, the president of your nation, had his words to him in such a wise that it was worship to him and all our nation; and soon after this they took their leave of him. And on the morrow he sends after them again at ten of the clock. There he received them again every man by hand. Then he made a collation to our nation, and he thanked them especially that they had been so loving, trusty, and true to his nation in his absence. Also, he rehearsed there how the brotherhood [friendship] began between him and my Lord your father; and how it is now so continued and knit for you and your successors, with the grace of God, for ever. And he told them so great worship of your royal person, and such of all my Lords your brethren; and then of the governance of holy church, divine service, ornaments, and all state thereof, kept as though it were in Paradise, in comparison with any place that he ever came in before; so that from the highest unto the lowest he commended your glorious and gracious person, your realm, and your good governance. And then my Lord of Chester, our president, in the name of all our nation (as belongeth to his office) rehearsed compendiously, and in a gentle wise, all that ever the Emperor had said; and gave him an answer to every point so good and so reasonable, in so short avisement, that he has got him the thanks of your nation for ever. And also, sovereign liege Lord, as I may understand, my Lords of Salisbury and Chester are fully disposed, by the consent of all your other ambassadors, to suive [pursue] the reformation in the church, in the head and the members, having no regard to no benefices[55] that they have, rather than it should be left undone. And of this I doubt me nought that these two lords will abide hard and nigh, always by the good advice and deliberation of your brother the King of Rome. Moreover, liketh you to wit, that on Sunday, the last day of January, your brother, the King of Rome, wore the gown of the Garters, with your collar, openly at the high mass; and he was lereth [learned] that the Duke of Beyer and the borough-grave should eat with my Lord of London the same day, and he said he would eat with them. Other tidings be there none, but, as it is said, the ambassadors of Spain should be here in Constance within a few days. And, on Candlemas eve, came letters from the French King, commanding to his nation to put out the ambassadors of the Duke of Burgundy from their nation; also, as it is said openly, that the foresaid French King hath sent to the city of Genoa, and forwarded a great sum of gold to [hire[56]] wage great ships and galleys, to destroy your ordinance and your navy of England. And further, the day of making this letter, Master Philip Moyar entered Constance in good health, thanked be God! The which God, of his gracious goodness, keep your high, honourable, and gracious person in his pleasance, and send you sovereignty and victory of all your enemies. Written at Constance, the second day of February,
"By your poor, true, and continual
"Orator,[57]
"John Forester."
It is curious to remark that, on the very Sunday before this letter was written, the English bishops caused a sort of pious comedy to be acted in the presence of the Emperor Sigismund. It was one of those mysteries, as they were called, which had so long mingled religious instruction (of a very questionable character) with amusement. The fruits of these exhibitions were probably very equivocal in that age in England, as they are on the Continent at this day. The Germans consider this play, which was the representation of the Nativity,[58] the Massacre of the Innocents, and the Visit of the Magi, as the first introduction of that sort of dramatic performance into their country. The English had caused a rehearsal to be performed before the authorities of the place three or four times previously, in order to make the actors perfect for their imperial audience.
About half a year after the date of this letter to Henry, his uncle, Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, reached Constance in the garb of a pilgrim, on his journey to the Holy Land. His safe-conduct is dated July 21, 1417. His arrival at Constance was very prejudicial to the cause of the reform of the church. The struggle then was between the imperial party (to which the English were closely attached) and the Cardinals, whether the Pope should be first elected, or whether the reformations in the church should take precedence of his election. Henry Beaufort, to whom all parties seem to have paid the utmost deference, suggested the expediency of first electing the Pope; the Cardinals pledging themselves, that done, to proceed forthwith to the reformation. His advice was followed, and the result must have been a disappointment to all sincere Christians: a death-blow was given to the hopes which had been entertained of a reform in ecclesiastical affairs to be effected by that Council. No sooner was Pope Martin V. elected, than both himself and the Cardinals frustrated every attempt to secure a sound reformation; and, after sitting three years and six months, the Council was dissolved.
The records of this Council of Constance bear incidentally most valuable evidence to the warm interest taken by Henry in everything over which he had any control, and in which he could beneficially employ his power and influence. They prove, moreover, that whilst he was a sincere promoter of a sound and wholesome reformation, and most zealously attached to the religion in which he had been brought up, and in which he was a conscientious believer, he was no persecutor. Though our souls are harrowed up by the unchristian proceedings against John Huss and Jerome of Prague, (and, could truth allow it, we would gladly wipe away so black a stain from the annals of ages and nations called Christian,) it is a source of great satisfaction to find that the name of Henry of Monmouth is not at all mixed up with those deeds of blood: we find him neither encouraging nor approving them. Not one shadow of suspicion is suggested that the persecuting spirit, which in that Council displayed itself so outrageously and inhumanly, found any thoughts in his breast responsive to its cruel aspirations. We know, indeed, that Thomas Walden, his priest and chaplain, was actuated by the spirit of persecution towards the Lollards; but we are equally assured that, so far from being countenanced and encouraged by his master in acts of persecuting bigotry, he did not scruple openly in public, and solemnly in a sermon, to charge him with a want of zeal in extirpating the enemies of the church. From such a witness the testimony so borne to the charity and moderation of Henry of Monmouth is very valuable and satisfactory; abundantly outweighing all the declamation of modern enthusiastic censors. Henry was a reformer,—he could not be persuaded to become a persecutor.[59]
Henry's reputation for having at heart the correction of all abuses in the church, encouraged the University of Oxford to present to him a petition, setting forth a multitude of corrupt practices which were a disgrace to the Christian religion in England; and praying him, since God had raised him up to such an exalted place in the church, to put forth his power in effecting a reformation.[60] This document, preserved in Corpus Christi College in Oxford, abounds in topics of deep and lively interest; it marks the fearful extent to which the corrupt practices in the church had been fostered by Rome, the ardent desire entertained in England for a reformation so early as the commencement of the fifteenth century, and Henry's anxiety to bring about such a reform in the discipline of the church as might safely be adopted without giving countenance and encouragement to the Lollards, against whom the University seems at this time to have been decidedly hostile.
The points to which Oxford then solicited Henry to direct his especial care, were partly such as are no longer of general interest among us, (excepting so far as they remind us of the mass of evils from which the Reformation rescued us,) and partly such as must be interesting to Christians of every age.
Among the former grievances were reckoned the Pope's unlimited creation of cardinals, all to be supported out of the revenues of the church; the excessive grants of indulgences, by which persons were encouraged in licentiousness; the privileges and exemptions and scandalous immorality of the monks. The petitioners complained bitterly that though the church of England would not admit persons into sacred orders who were unfit and unworthy, yet the court of Rome would repeatedly recognise such as lawful ministers.
Among the latter evils were the non-residence of incumbents, the inadequacy of the stipends of curates, and the commendams of bishops. The petitioners prayed, that whereas a great number both of regulars and seculars who were presumptuous and ignorant were ordained, a decree might be passed that all before ordination should be strictly examined; and that a remedy should be provided against simony.[61] They petitioned, also, that foreigners who could not speak English should have no cures in England; and they complained of the practice of patrons exacting from the priests whom they nominated to a benefice a pledge that they would not sue for an augmentation of their stipend, were it never so small. They closed their petition by praying that all bishops who were remiss in punishing heresy, and extirpating Lollardy, might be deposed; and that all magistrates and officers should be bound by their oath to aid in its extirpation.[62]
Henry, deeply lamenting the gross abuses referred to in this petition, implored the Pope to suffer them to be redressed. His Holiness agreed to certain constitutions, by which, if fully acted upon, most of the evils complained of would have been rectified. The Pope, however, begged Henry in return to abrogate all the laws which had been enacted in England to the prejudice of Rome; but the King declared his inability to meet the wishes of his Holiness.
The extent to which the abuse of the Pope's[63] authority had been connived at in this country,—a state of things which naturally indisposed him towards any change for the better,—may be inferred from two facts: that he (in defiance of the statutes of Edward III. and Richard II.) had by his own authority created thirteen bishops in the province of Canterbury in two years; and had appointed his nephew, Prospero Colonna, a boy of only fourteen years of age, Archdeacon of Canterbury, with fourteen benefices in England.
Before we leave this subject, we cannot but record an instance (mentioned by Walsingham) of Henry's personal exertions in reforming abuses. He had received complaints against the Benedictine monks of certain grievous corruptions; and, attended only by four persons, he went into the midst of a full assembly of that order. The meeting consisted of sixty abbots and priors of convents, and more than three hundred monks, who were all assembled in the Chapter-house of Westminster. After a speech from the Bishop of Exeter, (one of those who accompanied him,) Henry himself addressed them at great length. He reminded them of the ancient piety of the monks, and the devotion of his predecessors and others in founding and endowing monasteries; he expatiated on the negligence and remissness in the discharge of their sacred duties, which, he said, had become notorious in their times; and he then exhibited certain articles according to which he required them to reform themselves; earnestly entreating them to recover the ancient spirit of religion which they had lost, and habitually to pray for the King, the country, and the church; assuring them that, if they followed his directions, they needed fear none of their enemies.
That Henry V, though earnestly desirous of a sound reform in the discipline of the church, and the lives and ministrations of the clergy, did never lay the axe to the root of the evil, cannot be denied. Perhaps he was disheartened by the total failure of the united efforts of himself and Sigismund, with their honest and zealous adherents, at Constance. Perhaps he resolved to wait till, at the close of his continental campaigns, in the enjoyment of peace at home and abroad, he might be able to devote his concentrated exertions to an object of such paramount importance. Perhaps the ambition of his uncle Henry Beaufort, who evidently was looking for personal aggrandizement in wealth and dignity, and who had given so decided and unhappy a turn in the council of Constance in favour of the Pope's party, might have devised some means for seducing his nephew's ardent thoughts into another channel. To whatever cause we may be disposed to attribute it, the reality is, that Henry V, when he died, had not effected reform on any comprehensive scale in his own realm; nor had he given any decided blow to the dominion and the corruptions of the church of Rome. His short life was a career of wars and victories.
It pleased the Almighty, in his inscrutable wisdom, to bring about the reformation of the church in his own way, by his own means, and at his own appointed time. We recognise his hand in the blessing which we have inherited, and are thankful.
CHAPTER XIX.
wars with france. — causes which influenced henry. — summary of the affairs of france from the time of edward iii. — reflections on henry's title. — affairs of france from henry's resolution to claim his "dormant rights," and "rightful heritage," to his invasion of normandy. — negociations. — his right denied by the french. — parliament votes him supplies.
1414.
WARS WITH FRANCE.
It falls not within the province of these Memoirs to justify the proceedings of Henry of Monmouth with regard to France, by an examination into the soundness of his claims, and the abstract principles on which he and his subjects and advisers rested them. But it is incumbent on any one who would estimate his character uprightly, to weigh the considerations by which he was influenced in the undertaking, neither according to our present standard, nor independently of all the circumstances of the age in which he lived, and the sentiments then generally prevalent among men of education and reputed probity.
Historians have generally represented it as an established fact that the clergy, especially the Archbishop of Canterbury, alarmed at the bold and urgent call of the Commons upon the King to seize the church patrimony, and from its proceeds apply whatever was required by the exigencies of the state, hit upon the expedient of stimulating him to claim France as his inheritance; thus withdrawing his mind from a measure so fatal to their interests. Though the evidence on which such a tradition rests is by no means satisfactory, we may perhaps receive it as probable. That the Commons were clamorous for the confiscation of the ecclesiastical revenues, and that the clergy voluntarily voted a very large subsidy to aid the King in prosecuting his alleged rights on the Continent, are matters of historical certainty. That the ecclesiastics, moreover, originally suggested to him the design of reviving his dormant claim to an inheritance in the fair realm of France, and then fostered the thought, and justified the undertaking by argument, and pledged their priestly word for the righteousness of his cause, is doubtless no unreasonable supposition. Still the clergy do not appear to have been in the least more eager in the scheme, or more anxious to protect themselves and their revenues from spoliation by such a scheme, than were the laity enthusiastically bent on a harvest of national glory and aggrandizement from its success.[64] In a word, the King himself, the nobles, and the people, all seem to have been equally determined to engage in the enterprise, and to support each other in the resolution that it was not only practicable, but most fully justifiable by the laws of God and man.
That Henry's high spirit predisposed him to listen with readiness and satisfaction to the suggestions of his subjects in this behalf, we may well believe; but that he would have been driven by a dominant ambition to engage in a war of conquest against the acknowledged principles of justice, his character, firmly established by undeniable proofs of a private as well as a public nature, forbids us to admit. It must never be forgotten that those persons who were then universally regarded as the best and safest interpreters of law, human and divine, assured him, on his solemn appeal to them for their judgment,[65] that the cause in which he was embarking was just; and, as many incidents in the sequel establish, he did embark in it without any doubts or misgivings, without the slightest scruple of conscience; on the contrary, with a full confidence in the entire righteousness of his cause, and a most unbounded reliance on the arm of the God of Justice for success.
The facts which laid the groundwork for his enterprising spirit to build upon are very interesting; and, though they may perhaps belong rather to general history than to Memoirs of Henry of Monmouth, yet a brief review of them might seem altogether indispensable in this place.
"The preference given by the States-General to Philip of Valois above Edward III, when he laid claim to the crown of France, led to that disastrous war, the prominent incidents of which are familiar to every one at all acquainted with the history of that time. Edward gained a naval victory over the French, and conquered Philip at Cressy, and possessed himself of Calais, which gave him an entrance into France at all times. After some interval, Edward the Black Prince, his son, gained the famous battle of Poictiers; where King John, son and successor of Philip of Valois, was taken prisoner. Whilst that monarch was a captive in England, Edward entered France at the head of one hundred thousand men, and marched to the very gates of Paris. This successful invasion led to the treaty of Bretigny. By the terms of that peace, Edward recovered all those ancient dependencies of Guienne which had been wrested from his ancestors. These provinces had fallen to the Kings of England by the marriage of Eleanor, heiress of Guienne, with Henry II; but, from the time of John (Lackland) and Henry III, Philip Augustus and St. Lewis, Kings of France, had so shorn that vast territory, that nothing remained to England except Bourdeaux, Bayonne, and Gascony. Besides, by the same treaty, Edward secured Montreuil and Ponthieu, Calais and Guienne; and all these possessions were ceded to him in full sovereignty without any suit or homage due to France. Finally, he stipulated for the sum of three millions of golden crowns as the ransom of King John. On his side, he consented to forego all right and claim which he might have on the crown of France. Especially he renounced all title to Normandy and other places, which were said to be the heritage of his ancestors, and to all the sovereignty of Brittany. This treaty was solemnly executed by King John, and observed during his life, except as to the ransom, two-thirds of which remained undischarged at his death. But Charles V, his son and successor, finding this peace very disadvantageous to France, though he had himself been a party to it, and had sworn to observe its conditions, broke it on very frivolous grounds. He declared war against Edward, and in a very few years recovered all that had been ceded to England by the treaty of Bretigny, except Calais, Bayonne, Bourdeaux, and part of Guienne. This second war was interrupted by a truce, which continued till the death of Edward III. in 1377. During the reign of Richard II, and the remainder of Charles V.'s life, and the first years of Charles VI, war and peace followed each other in mutual succession, without any important or decided advantage on either side. At last, Richard II. and Charles VI. concluded a truce for twenty-eight years, which was ratified by the marriage of Richard with Isabel, Charles's daughter. From the deposition of Richard to the death of Henry IV, notwithstanding frequent violations of the truce, both sides maintained that it still subsisted. Such was the state of the two crowns when Henry of Monmouth mounted the throne. France having broken the peace of Bretigny, and maintaining that the treaty was void, evidently the Kings of England were reinstated in all their rights which they had before that peace. On this principle, immediately after the disclaimer of that peace on the part of France, Edward III. resumed the title of King of France, which he had laid aside; and his successors assumed it also. Since the commencement of the war which followed the treaty of Bretigny there never had been peace between the two crowns, but only truces, which do not affect the rights of the parties. It is evident, therefore, that, when he ascended the throne, Henry V. found himself under precisely the same circumstances in point of right in which his great grandfather, Edward III, was eighty years before, when he commenced the first war. Besides this, Henry had to allege a solemn treaty, which, after it had been unequivocally acted upon, France broke on a most trifling pretext."
Such is the representation made by the author of the Abrégé Historique[66] of the affairs of England; and the Author is desirous of transferring into his pages this clear and candid statement the rather because it is written by a foreigner, who seems to have viewed the transaction with enlightened and unprejudiced eyes.
More modern writers, indeed, would teach us to deem it "unnecessary for them to comment on the absurdity of Henry's claim to the French crown in right of his descent from Isabella wife of Edward II. For futile as her son Edward's (III.) pretensions were, Henry's were still less reasonable, as the Earl of March was in 1415 the heir of those persons."[67]
The fact on which this reasoning rests is undoubtedly true, and yet considerations connected with that claim require to be entertained, and weighed without haste and without prejudice; and the truth itself warns us not to dismiss the point so summarily. Henry (it must never be forgotten) had been bred up in the belief that Richard II. had in the most full and unreserved manner, by his act of resignation, yielded all his rights into the hands of the people of England, and that those rights had been as fully and unreservedly conferred by the nation on Henry's father. Whatever rights, moreover, the Earl of March possessed as lineal heir to the crown, he had, as far as his own personal interest was concerned, over and over again, not merely by a passive acquiescence, but by repeated voluntary acts, virtually resigned, and made over to Henry as actual King; and, lastly, it is clear that Henry's claim was always by himself and by the nation rested on the ground of his being King of England, and, ipso facto, as such, heir of all his predecessors Kings of England.
On these grounds, and with such an opening offered to his ardent mind by the distracted state of the realm of France, Henry resolved to prefer his claim; negociating first for its amicable concession, and, if unsuccessful in negociation, then pursuing it in the field of battle. This appears to have been his determination from the first; but from the first he seems also to have contemplated the probability of failure by treaty; for, from the first intimation of his designs, he and his subjects were steadily engaged in making every preparation[68] for a vigorous invasion of France.
In this part of our treatise a brief outline is required of the proceedings between the resolution first taken by Henry, and his appearance in arms on French land; nor can we satisfactorily pass on without taking a succinct view of the internal state of that kingdom at the time of Henry's original claim and subsequent invasion.
SUMMARY OF THE AFFAIRS OF FRANCE.
Charles V, surnamed the Wise, died in 1380.[69] He left to succeed him his son Charles VI, twelve years of age; and he appointed his three brothers to govern the kingdom during the minority,—Lewis, Duke of Anjou, John, Duke of Berry, and Philip, Duke of Burgundy, who by their ambition and rivalry threw the whole realm into confusion. Charles V. left also another son, called the Duke of Orleans, who in his time contributed to the general confusion no less than his uncles. Through the first days of Charles's (VI.) reign, the three regents, differing in every other point, agreed only in burdening the nation with taxes; a circumstance which bred great discontent, and prepared the people for separating into different factions whenever an opportunity might occur.
The Duke of Anjou quitted France in 1381, to take possession of his kingdom of Sicily. The King was of age to be his own master, according to the will of his father, at fourteen; yet his uncles governed both his estate and his person till he was twenty. In 1385, he was married to Isabella, daughter of Stephen, Duke of Bavaria.
In 1388, Charles assumed the reins of government, discharging his uncles, and keeping about his person his brother, the Duke of Orleans, then seventeen, and his maternal uncle the Duke of Bourbon.
The Duke of Burgundy could not endure to see the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon govern the kingdom in the name of the King; and in 1391 he succeeded in causing the Estates-General to transfer the government to him under the pretext of aiding his nephew to bear the burden of the state. Probably the King had already shown symptoms of that imbecility which afterwards incapacitated him altogether for managing the affairs of his kingdom. In 1395 his malady increased in violence; and for some time the Queen his wife, the Dukes of Orleans, Berry, Burgundy, and Bourbon, each struggled hard to retain the reins of government in their own hands. At length the Dukes of Orleans and Burgundy formed two opposite parties; under the banners of which, as well the members of the court, as the subjects of the kingdom at large, arranged themselves in hostile ranks. Queen Isabella joined the Duke of Orleans. The Duke of Berry fluctuated between the two factions, and had great difficulty in preventing them from coming to extremities. In these struggles the two chiefs were so equal, and so determined not to yield either to the other, that they left the government to the council of the King. The Duke of Burgundy withdrew to the Netherlands, where he was master of the earldoms of Flanders and Artois, and the duchy of Brabant: there he died in 1403, leaving his son John to succeed him, who became Duke of Burgundy and Count of Flanders and Artois. His brothers shared the residue of their father's inheritance.
Whilst the new Duke of Burgundy was employed in arranging his own affairs, the Queen and the Duke of Orleans conducted the government; but with little satisfaction to the people, who found themselves grievously oppressed by taxation. Meanwhile, the Duke of Burgundy married his son Philip, Earl of Charolois, to Michelle, the King's daughter; and one of his daughters was also espoused to the Dauphin, Louis, then only nine years of age.
Some time afterwards, Charles VI. finding himself in one of his intervals of mental health, and hearing complaints from all sides against his Queen and the Duke of Orleans, convened an assembly of nobles to deliberate on a remedy; and commanded the presence of the Duke of Burgundy. On his approach, the Queen and the Duke of Orleans withdrew, taking with them the young Dauphin. The Duke of Burgundy followed, and overtook them; and rescued the Dauphin from their custody. This was a source of open rupture between those princes. There followed, indeed, an outward show of reconciliation; but their mutual hatred was deadly still. In 1407 the Duke of Burgundy caused the Duke of Orleans to be assassinated. He was bold enough to profess himself the author of the murder, and powerful enough to shield himself from any punishment, and to procure letters of free pardon. Next year he was obliged to visit his own territory, and in his absence his enemies caused the bill of amnesty to be reversed.
Meantime, the Duke gained a victory over the troops of Liege, and marched at the head of four thousand horsemen direct upon Paris. The Queen withdrew at his approach, taking the King with her to Tours; and, finding herself unable to cope with her antagonist, she consented to an accommodation. The King received Burgundy, and reconciled him in appearance to the Duke of Orleans, son of the murdered Duke. After this, the Duke of Burgundy remained master of the government, and of the person of the King.
It will be remembered that, in 1411, a powerful league was formed in Guienne against the Duke of Burgundy, by the Dukes of Berry, Orleans, Alençon, and the Count of Armagnac, who was governor of Languedoc and father-in-law to the Duke of Berry; and who, being the chief conductor of the whole affair, gave the name of Armagnacs to the party in general opposed to Burgundy.[70] At the beginning, the Duke of Burgundy, having received succours from Henry IV. of England, gained a great advantage over his opponents. Subsequently, the Armagnacs, obtaining considerable assistance from the same King, forced the Duke of Burgundy, who was besieging them in Bourges, to make peace; one condition of which, however, being that no one of those chiefs should return to the court, the Duke of Burgundy still remained master of the King's person. In this state of triumph on the part of the Duke of Burgundy, and of depression of the Armagnacs, another opponent arose against the Duke, of whom he seems to have been previously under no apprehension,—the Dauphin himself, his son-in-law, then only sixteen years of age. This prince, persuaded that during his father's illness the government could of right belong to no one but himself, resolved to secure his own. He gained over the governor of the Bastille, and seized that fortress. The Parisians flew to arms at the secret instigation of the Duke of Burgundy. A surgeon, named John of Troyes, at the head of ten or twelve thousand men, forced the gates of the Dauphin's palace; and, carrying off the chief friends of that prince, lodged them in prison.
These events took place at the opening of the year 1413, whilst Henry IV. was labouring under the malady of which he died. Henry V. succeeded to the throne, March 20th of that year. At the end of April, the malcontents of Paris, all of the Burgundian faction, committed various excesses, and compelled both the King and the Dauphin to wear the white cap, the badge of their party. The Dauphin[71] betook himself at last to the Armagnacs, of whom many lived in Paris, grievously oppressed by the government of the Duke of Burgundy; and he planned his scheme so well, and so secretly, that at the beginning of September he found thirty thousand men in Paris ready to support him. By his sudden and vigorous efforts he struck terror into the opposite faction, who abandoned the Bastille and other places in their possession, and thought of nothing but their own personal safety. The Duke of Burgundy himself withdrew to Flanders. The Dauphin, however, gained no permanent advantage from this success; for the King, in one of his favourable intervals, immediately seized the reins of government, and called his nephew the young Duke of Orleans to his counsels. This youth induced the King to issue very violent decrees against the Duke of Burgundy, and to execute a great number of his partisans.
Such was the state of affairs in France when Henry of Monmouth first resolved to prosecute his claims in that kingdom. The Duke of Burgundy lost no time in endeavouring to secure the assistance of so powerful an ally; as we find by the many safe-conducts dated before the Duke's expulsion from Paris, which did not take place till September. Whether Henry had, before these embassies from the Duke of Burgundy, formed any design of claiming his supposed rights in France, or not, the Duke's negociations must have strongly impressed him with the distracted state of that country, and with an opening offered to the enterprising spirit of any powerful neighbour who would promptly and vigorously seize upon that opportunity of invading France.
"Although[72] several negociations had taken place between September 1413, and the January following, for the purpose of prolonging the subsisting truce between England and France, it was not until January 28, 1414, that ambassadors were appointed to treat of peace. From the engagement then made, that Henry would not propose marriage to any other woman than Katharine, daughter of the King of France, until after the 1st of the ensuing May, (which term was extended from the 18th of June to the 1st of August, and afterwards to the 2nd of February 1415,) it is evident that a marriage with that princess was to form one of the conditions of the treaty. But the first intimation of a claim to the crown of France is in a commission, dated May 1, 1414, by which the Bishop of Durham, Richard Lord Grey, and others, were instructed to negociate that alliance, and the restitution of such of their sovereign's rights as were withheld by Charles. The principal claim was no less than the crown and kingdom of France. Concession to this demand, however, being at once declared impossible, the English ambassadors waived it, without prejudice nevertheless to Henry's rights. They then demanded the sovereignty of the duchies of Normandy and Touraine, the earldom of Anjou, the duchy of Brittany, the earldom of Flanders, with all other parts of the duchy of Aquitain, the territories which had been ceded to Edward III. by the treaty of Bretigny, and the lands between the Somme and Graveline; to be held by Henry and his heirs, without any claim of superiority on the part of Charles or his successors. To these demands were added the cession of the county of Provence, and payment of the arrears of the ransom of King John, amounting to one million six hundred thousand crowns. It was also intimated that the marriage with Katharine could not take place, unless a firm peace were also established with France, and that two millions of crowns would be expected as her dower.
On March 14, 1415, the French ministers denied Henry's right to any part of the dominion of their master; but, to avoid extremities, they offered to cede the counties of Angouleme and Bayonne, with various other territories. They said that Provence, not being among Charles's lordships, was not withheld by him. With respect to the arrears of ransom, they thought that, having offered so much to extend the possessions of England, with a view of securing peace, the claim ought to be withdrawn. Touching the marriage, which had been so frequently discussed, though the Kings of France had been accustomed to give much less with their daughters than six hundred thousand crowns, which sum the Duke of Berry had offered with her in the preceding August, yet that it should be enlarged to eight hundred thousand crowns, besides her jewels and apparel, and the expense of sending the princess in a suitable manner to the place where she might be delivered to Henry. But as the English ambassadors said they were not permitted to prolong their stay in France, and had no authority to vary their demands, Charles engaged to send an embassy to England to conclude the treaty.
During the progress of these protracted negociations Henry grew dissatisfied; and either from impatience, or with a view of awing France into submission, issued writs of 26th September 1414, for a parliament to be held at Westminster after the Octaves of St. Martin, 18th November following. On that day parliament met; and the session was opened at the command of the King by Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, then Chancellor. In a long harangue he informed the assembly, that their King (who was present in person) had resolved to recover his inheritance, which had been so long and unjustly kept from him and his progenitors, Kings of England; and that, for this purpose, many things were necessary. Taking for his theme the text, "Whilst we have time, let us do good," he pointed out, with more pedantry than eloquence, that for every natural thing there were two seasons; and that just as for the tree there was one time to bud, to flower, and to bring forth fruit, and another time through which it was left to repose, so was there given to man a time for peace, and a time for war and labour: that the King, considering the value of peace and tranquillity which this kingdom then enjoyed, and also the justice of his present quarrel, (considerations most necessary for every prince who had to encounter enemies abroad,) deemed that the proper time had arrived for the accomplishment of his purpose. But, to attain this great and honourable object, three things, he said, were wanted; namely, wise and faithful counsel from his vassals, strong and true support from his people, and a copious subsidy from his subjects; which each of them would readily grant, because the more their prince's dominions were extended, the less would their burdens become; and, these things being performed, great honour and glory would necessarily ensue.
This address was not without effect, for the Commons, after electing Thomas Chaucer (son, as it is said, of the poet) for their Speaker, "granted the King, for the honour of God, and from the great love and affection which they bore towards their sovereign, two entire fifteenths and two entire tenths, for the defence of the kingdom of England and the safeguard of the seas."
CHAPTER XX.
modern triple charge against henry of falsehood, hypocrisy, and impiety. — futility of the charge, and utter failure of the evidence on which alone it is grounded. — he is urged by his people to vindicate the rights of his crown, himself having a conscientious conviction of the justice of his claim. — story of the tennis-balls. — preparations for invading france. — henry's will made at southampton. — charge of hypocrisy again grounded on the close of that testament. — its futility. — he despatches to the various powers of europe the grounds of his claim on france.
At this point of his work, the Author finds the painful duty devolved upon him of investigating a triple charge, now for the first time brought against Henry by a living writer. He must not shrink from the task, though he enter upon it with a consciousness that, if established, the charge must brand Henry's memory with indelible disgrace, whilst his acquittal may imply censure on his accuser.[73] He feels, nevertheless, that only one course is open for him to pursue; he must follow up the inquiry fully, fearlessly, and impartially, whatever may be the result; and, whether he looks to Henry or his accuser, he must adhere rigidly to the golden maxim, "Friends are dear, but truth is dearer!"
An Author,[74] then, to whom (as we gladly and gratefully acknowledge) we are largely indebted for many helps supplied to the biographer and historian, and from whom we have borrowed copiously in this part of our work, brings a wide and violent charge against Henry's character in those very points on which the general tenour and complexion of his whole life would lead us to regard him as of all least assailable. He charges him with falsehood, hypocrisy, and impiety. The groundwork on which he founds these accusations is a series of letters recorded in M. Le Laboureur's History of Charles VI. of France.
To ascertain more satisfactorily whether the charge is really substantiated, or whether it has been built upon an unsound foundation, we will first extract the whole passage as it stands in his work, "The Battle of Agincourt," and then sift the evidence which the writer alleges in support of so grave an imputation.
"On the 7th April, Henry is said to have addressed the King of France on the subject of his claims, and in reference to the embassy which Charles had signified his intention of sending to discuss them. No part[75] of the correspondence on this occasion occurs in the Fœdera, and it is very slightly alluded to by our historians. "To the first of those letters Charles replied on the 16th of April, and to the last on the 26th of that month; it is therefore evident that Henry did not wait for the answer to the first before the second was written. These documents occur in contemporary writers; and, as the internal evidence which they contain of being genuine is very strong, there is no cause to doubt their authenticity. Their most striking features are falsehood, hypocrisy, and impiety; for Henry's solemn assurance that he was not actuated by his own ambition, but by the wishes of his subjects, is rendered very doubtful by the fact that, on the day after the Chancellor had solicited supplies for the invasion of France, the Commons merely stated that they granted them for the defence of the realm, and the safety of the seas. The justice claimed was, that France should be dismembered of many important territories; and that, with the hand of Katharine, Henry should receive a sum as unprecedented as it was exorbitant. But this was not all, for his first demand was the crown of France itself; and it was not until he was convinced of the impossibility of such a concession, that he required those points to which his letters refer. If then there was falsehood in his assertion that his demands were dictated by the wishes of his people rather than by his own, there was hypocrisy in the assurances of his moderation and love of peace, and impiety in calling the Almighty to witness the sincerity of his protestation, and in profaning the holy writings by citing them on such an occasion. These letters, which were probably dictated by Cardinal Beaufort, are remarkable for the style in which they are written; in some places they approach nearly to eloquence, and they are throughout clear, nervous, and impressive."
In this threefold indictment, the first charge is "falsehood." The falsehood is made to consist in Henry's assertion, that he was stimulated to prosecute his claim by the wishes of his people; and the only evidence alleged to sustain this charge of falsehood, is the fact that parliament, in granting the supplies, so far from specifying that the grant was made for the purpose of recovering the King's rights in France, merely stated that it was "for the defence of the realm, and the safety of the seas."
Before a charge, fixing an indelible stain on the character of a fellow-creature, whether the individual were a king leading his armies to victory, or the humblest subject in his realm, were made on such grounds as these, it had been well,—well for the cause of truth, and well for the satisfaction of the accuser,—had the nature and force of the evidence adduced been first more carefully examined. The slightest acquaintance with the language of parliament at that time, and the most cursory comparison of the words of its members with their conduct, must satisfy every one that not a shadow of suspicion is suggested of any unwillingness on the part of the Commons to support the King in demanding his supposed rights, and vindicating them by arms. On the contrary, the very records of parliament themselves, which are cited to maintain against Henry the charge of falsehood, carry with them a full and perfect refutation of the accusation, complete in all its parts; and compel us to lament that it has been brought so hastily, unadvisedly, and inconsiderately. Our first point is to ascertain the force of those words in the grant alone cited to substantiate the charge of falsehood against Henry,—what meaning was attached to them by the Commons themselves. We shall find that the subsidy was granted in the usual formal words, "for the defence of the realm of England and so forth." In the first parliament of Henry for example, the subsidy is granted in these words: "To the honour of God, and for the great love and affection which your poor Commons of your realm of England have to you our dread sovereign Lord, for the good of the realm and its good governance in time to come, we have, with the consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, granted to you for defence of your realm of England," and so forth,—specifying a subsidy from wools and other merchandise; and then, in voting an entire fifteenth and a tenth, they add, "for the defence of the realm, and the safeguard of the seas." With precisely the same justice might it be argued in this case that the Commons would not vote the subsidy for "the support of the King's dignity and high estate," (though that was one of the especial grounds on which he appealed himself to the liberality of his parliament,) as it can be inferred, from the same words used in the parliament of 1415, that the Commons of England were not forward to promote the expedition to France. In that parallel case, however, we are quite sure the argument would be fallacious; because in the very same session they voted that the King's own allowance should take precedence of all other payments of annuities and other demands, to the amount of 10,000l. annually.
Another instance occurs in the parliament which met October 19, 1416, the King himself presiding: though the Chancellor, after referring with exultation to the victories of Harfleur, "the key of France," and of Agincourt, "where greatest part of the chivalry of France had fallen in battle," asks for new supplies for the express purpose of carrying on the wars in France; the Commons, in voting those supplies, as expressly state that they grant them "for the defence of your realm of England."
The same conclusion is warranted by the grants of 1417 and 1419; excepting that in these the Commons make the argument intended to support the charge against Henry's veracity still less tenable, by inserting a phrase which might seem to exclude the very object for which application for the subsidy was made. The application was made especially for the supplies necessary to carry on the war abroad; the Commons vote the subsidy "for the defence of the realm of England in especial."
But, to remove all possible doubt as to the true intent and meaning of the people of England in the grant in 1414 of two entire tenths and two entire fifteenths, we need only refer to the first act of the next parliament, which, after rehearsing the impossibility of the King effectually carrying on his wars abroad unless one tenth and one fifteenth made by the former parliament, payable on the 2nd of February, should be collected before that time, decrees that subsidy to be due and payable on the feast of St. Lucie in the next coming December. Nor is this all. The next act of this same parliament would of itself prove the utter futility of the charge against Henry, as far as that charge rests upon the evidence adduced. The parliament first state the necessity of supplying the King with more efficient means for pursuing his campaign in France, and then vote one entire tenth and one entire fifteenth,—for what? not for the purpose which they have expressly specified, but "for the defence of his said realm of England." The preamble, however, of this act shows so clearly what were the views and feelings of his subjects on this very point, as well as on the justice of his claim, that a transcript of it seems indispensable in this place.
"The Commons of the realm, in this present parliament assembled, considering that the King our sovereign lord, for the honour of God, and to avoid the shedding of human blood, hath caused various requests to be made to his adversary of France to have restitution of his inheritance according to right and justice;[76] and for that end there have been diverse treaties, as well here as beyond the sea, to his great costs; nevertheless he hath not, by such requests and treaties, obtained his said inheritance, nor any important part thereof: and since the King, neither by the revenues of his realm, nor by any previous grant of subsidy, hath had enough wherewith to pursue his right; yet, always trusting in God that in his just quarrel he shall be upheld and supported, of his own good courage hath undertaken an expedition into those parts, pawning his jewels to procure a supply of money, and in his own person hath passed over, and arrived at Harfleur, and laid siege to it and taken it, and holds it at present, having placed lords and many others there for its defence; and then of his excellent courage, with few people in regard to the power of France, he marched by land towards Calais, where, on his route, many dukes, earls, and other lords, with the power of the realm of France, to an exceeding great number, opposed him, and gave him battle; and God, of his grace, hath given victory to our King, to the honour and exaltation of his crown, of his own fair fame, the singular comfort of his faithful lieges, to the terror of all his enemies, and probably to the lasting profit of all his realm."
We may safely leave the issue to the verdict of any impartial mind. The argument drawn from the language of parliament to convict Henry of falsehood falls to the ground; it has no colour of reason in it; and no other argument is even alluded to by the accuser. It is, moreover, much to be regretted that the Editor of "The Battle of Agincourt," when he was translating so large a portion of the Chaplain's memoir, which with great reason he implicitly follows, had not begun the work of translation a few sentences only before its present commencement. Our countrymen would then have seen that, from whatever sources that Editor drew the evidence on which to build his triple charge of hypocrisy, falsehood, and impiety against Henry V, those who knew him best, and had the most ample opportunities of witnessing his character and conduct, expressed at least a very opposite opinion on the point at issue. The following are the genuine words of one who accompanied Henry from his native shores to France, was with him at the battle of Agincourt, and returned with him in safety to England. "Meanwhile, after the interchange of many solemn embassies between England and France, with a view to permanent peace, when the King found that very many negociations and most exact treaties had been carried on in vain, by reason that the council of France, clinging to their own will, which they adopted as their law, could be induced to peace by no just mean of equity, without immense injury to the crown of England, and perpetual disinheritance of some of the noblest portions of his right in that realm, though for the sake of peace he was ready to make great concessions, seeing no other remedy or means by which he could come to his right, had recourse to the sentence of the supreme judicature, and without blame sought to recover by the sword what the blameworthy and unjust violence of the French had struggled so long to usurp and keep.... He determined to regain the duchy of Normandy, which had for a long time been kept, against God and all justice, by the violence of the French."
There is, however, one declaration contained in the very volume from which these alleged letters of Henry are extracted, which makes the charge brought by the commentator on those letters still more surprising.[77] It is in that very volume positively asserted, with regard to the first rumour through France of Henry's intended invasion, that "his subjects had strongly remonstrated with him for his love of peace and rest, and his dislike of active measures, and had now insisted upon his undertaking the expedition."[78]
The charge of hypocrisy is made to rest "on Henry assuring the French monarch of his moderation and love of peace, whereas he must have been conscious that he was immoderate in his demands, and was not desirous of peace." To prove that his demands were immoderate, is not enough to sustain this accusation; to constitute him a hypocrite, he must himself have been conscious that his demands were immoderate. But how stands the probability? He was fully persuaded that the crown of France was his own; and he first demands the full surrender of his alleged rights. The Commons declare that what he sought was "the restitution of his inheritance according to right and justice," and testify that he "trusted in God for support in his just quarrel." He then, agreeably to the advice of his council,[79] (who acknowledge that what he sought to recover was "his righteous heritage, the redintegration of the old rights of his crown,") withdrawing his full demand, proposes other terms, unreasonable, no doubt, as we may view them now, but, if regarded as a substitute for the fair kingdom of France, far from stamping on Henry the brand of hypocrisy, when he made a profession of moderation and a love of peace.[80]
There remains the charge of impiety, which is made to rest on Henry having called the Almighty to witness a falsehood, and quoted Scripture in support of what he affirmed. It was undoubtedly too much the practice then, as unhappily it is now, for Christians, on trivial occasions, to appeal to Heaven, and to quote the sanction of Scripture in very questionable matters of worldly policy. But Henry does not appeal presumptuously, nor quote lightly; he appeals solemnly, and he quotes reverently, in a matter of very great importance to both kingdoms, and in a cause which he believed to be founded in right and justice. He appealed to Heaven to witness what he regarded as true. The page we have been examining accuses Henry of falsehood, hypocrisy, and impiety: the evidence of facts, and the testimony of his contemporaries, represent him to us in the character of an honest, undisguised, and pious King.
On Tuesday, April 16, Henry held a council at Westminster, at which the Chancellor, Henry Beaufort, briefly explained the proceedings of the great council, enumerating the causes which induced their King, in the name of God, to undertake in his own person an expedition for the recovery of his inheritance. On the next day the Chancellor informed the council that the King had appointed the Duke of Bedford to be lieutenant of England[81] during his absence; with the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of Winchester, and other prelates and lay lords to form his council.
As early as May 26, an order was issued to suspend the assizes through England during the King's absence, lest his lieges who accompanied him might be subjected to inconvenience and injustice. The defence of the country towards Scotland and Wales was provided for, and the rate of wages payable to his retinue and soldiers was fixed. Every duke was to receive 13s. 4d., every earl 6s. 8d., every baron 4s., and every knight 2s., every esquire being a man-at-arms 12d., every archer 6d. each day; whilst for every thirty men-at-arms a reward was assigned of one hundred marks a quarter; together with some other stipulations.
In the spring and summer the King issued[82] commissions to hire ships from Holland and Zealand; to press sailors to navigate his vessels; to provide workmen to make and repair bows; to procure carts and waggons for the conveyance of his stores; also a supply of masons, carpenters, and smiths, together with the materials of the respective trades. The sheriffs of different counties were ordered to buy cattle; and the sheriff of Hampshire was to cause bread to be baked, and ale to be brewed, at Winchester and Southampton, and the parts adjacent, for the use of the army.
The King not only thus took effective measures for the transport and supply of his forces, but commanded also the Archbishop and the other prelates to array the clergy for the defence of the kingdom at home during his absence. Every sheriff also was to proclaim that a nightly watch should be kept till All-Saints' Day; and no taverner was to allow any stranger to remain in his house more than one day and night, without knowledge of the cause of his delay; and all suspicious persons were to be committed to prison.
Though parliament had granted a liberal supply, the King, finding his expenses to exceed his means, made a direct and powerful appeal to all his loving subjects for a loan, with promise of repayment; and a considerable sum was raised in consequence of that appeal, but still not enough. He was, therefore, compelled to pawn his plate and jewels, (as he had done with his small stock in early youth during the Welsh rebellion,) and to have recourse to all expedients for raising the necessary sums. These expedients were often totally incompatible with our present notions of the royal dignity; but no intimation appears anywhere of the least unfair and dishonourable dealing on the part of the King. His appeals to the people much resembled those of Charles I, under still more urgent circumstances, in after ages.
A curious fact is recorded in the minutes of a council held May 25, 1415, respecting a demand for money from the companies of foreign merchants resident in London. They were summoned before the council, and informed that it was usual for merchants who traded in any other country than their own to lend the government such sums as they could bear, or else be committed to prison during pleasure. This custom was justified on the ground of many and great privileges secured to them in their traffic by the King's favour, from which they derived great wealth. Certain sums were demanded, and sufficient pledges of gold, silver, and jewels were offered; but the merchants of Florence, Venice, and Lucca [de Luk] refused to comply, and were committed to the custody of the warden of the Fleet Prison. From the merchants of Florence was required 1,200l., from those of Venice 1,000l., from those of Lucca 200l. These strong measures seem to have worked their intended effect, for all those guilds granted loans afterwards.
Having now effected every preparation in his power, the King passed through London, accompanied by the Mayor and citizens (who attended him as far as Kingston); and having made an offering at St. Paul's, and taken leave of his mother-in-law the Queen, he proceeded on his way towards Southampton, where all his ships and contingents were directed to await his arrival.
Reaching Winchester, he remained there for some days from June 26th, probably to give audience to the French ambassadors, who were presented to him on the 30th. The Archbishop of Bourges headed that embassy, and the Bishop of Winchester was Henry's representative and spokesman. Much of negociating and bartering ensued, and at first many conciliatory communications were made on both sides; the French yielding much, the English adhering to their original demands, or remitting little from them. At length, the reply of the Archbishop put an abrupt end to further discussion; and Henry commanded the ambassadors to depart, with a promise that he would soon follow them.
It is here again painful to read the unkind and unjustifiable language of the same author, whose triple charge against Henry's religious and moral character we have just investigated, when he describes the surprise of the French monarch and his court on the return of these ambassadors. "Until that moment," he says, "the French court, either cajoled by Henry's hypocrisy, or lulled into security by a mistaken estimate of his power, had neglected every means for resisting the storm which was about to burst upon their country." Henry stands convicted of no hypocrisy; and his accuser alleges no evidence on which an impartial mind would pronounce him guilty. It is curious as it is satisfactory to lay side by side with this unguarded calumny the version of the circumstances of that time, made by an unprejudiced foreigner, and a very sensible well-versed historian.[83] "France was then governed by the Dauphin Louis, a young and presumptuous prince, who had up to this point thought himself able to amuse Henry by feigned negociations. Nevertheless, the preparations going on in England having opened the eyes of his council, a resolution was taken to send to England twelve ambassadors, at the head of whom was the Archbishop of Bourges."
Several contemporary writers, as well as general tradition, state that, on occasion of one of the various embassies sent to and fro between the courts of London and Paris, the Dauphin, then about eighteen or nineteen years of age, sent an insulting present to Henry of a tun of tennis-balls, with a message full of contempt and scorn,[84] implying that a racket-court was a more fit place for him than a battle-field. It is well observed, that such an act of wilful provocation must have convinced both parties of the hopelessness of any attempts towards a pacific arrangement; and, since the negociations were carried on to the very last, some discredit has thence been attempted to be thrown on the story altogether. But it must be remembered (as the author of the Abrégé Historique justly remarks) that these negociations were continued, on the part of France, merely to gain time, and withdraw Henry from his purpose; whilst Henry, on the other side, by his renewed proposals for the hand of Katharine, (an union on which he appears from the first to have been heartily bent,) kept up in his enemies the hope that, to gain that object, he would ultimately relax from many of his original demands. Henry certainly afterwards challenged the Dauphin to single combat, as though he had a quarrel with him personally; and nothing can fairly be inferred against the truth of the tradition, from the silence in the challenge on the point of such an insult having been offered. On the whole, the evidence is decidedly in favour of the reality of the incident; whilst Henry's reported answer is very characteristic: "I will thank the Dauphin in person, and will carry him such tennis-balls as shall rattle his hall's roof about his ears." And they, says the contemporary chronicler,[85] were great gunstones for the Dauphin to play withal.
Anxious to proceed in our narrative without further allusion to such sweeping and unsupported charges, we must, nevertheless, here introduce (though reluctantly) the remarks which have been suffered to fall from the same pen, as its chief comment on the closing words of Henry's last Will, made at this time.[86] He signed that document at Southampton, July 24th, just three days after discovering the conspiracy of which we must soon speak. Probably a sense of the uncertainty of life, and the necessity of setting his house in order without delay, were impressed deeply upon him by that unhappy event. He felt not only that he had embarked in an enterprise the result of which was doubtful, in which at all events he must expose his life to numberless unforeseen perils; but that the thread of his mortal existence might at a moment be cut asunder by the hands of the very men to whom he looked for protection and victory. Compared with the wills of other princes and nobles of that day, there is nothing very remarkable in Henry's. From first to last it is tinctured with the superstitions of the corrupt form of our holy religion, then over-spreading England.[87]
The subscription to this testament is couched in these words: "This is my last Will subscribed with my own hand. R.H. Jesu Mercy and Gramercy Ladie Mary Help:" and on these words the same author makes this observation: "According to all the biographers of Henry, extraordinary piety was a leading trait in his character, from which feeling the addition to his Will appears to have arisen. It seems indeed difficult to reconcile the lawless ambition, much less the hypocrisy,[88] which Henry displayed in his negociations, with an obedience to the genuine dictates of Christianity; but as he rigidly observed every rite of the church, was bountiful towards its members, and uniformly ascribed success to the Almighty, it is not surprising that his contemporaries should have described him as eminently pious."
On this passage the biographer of Henry had rather that his readers should form their own comment, than that he should express the sentiments which he cannot but entertain: he invites, however, the lover of truth to compare this charge of lawless ambition and hypocrisy with the actual conduct of Henry at this very time.
Whilst resident in the Abbey of Tichfield,[89] about ten miles from Southampton, he despatched to the Council of Constance, addressing himself chiefly to the Emperor Sigismund and the other princes assembled there, copies of the treaties between Henry IV. and the French court relative to the restoration of Aquitain to the English crown; remarking upon the wrong that was done to him by the gross violation of those treaties. This shows at all events that he was not conscious of being actuated by lawless ambition, or of acting the part of a hypocrite; it proves that he was desirous of having the merits of his quarrel with France examined and understood: and he seems to have felt an assurance that those who made themselves acquainted with the real grounds of his intended invasion would pronounce his quarrel to be just. Otherwise he would scarcely have gone out of his way to draw the eyes of assembled Europe, (not to the boldness of an enterprise, nor to the splendour of conquests, but) to a calm investigation of the righteousness of his cause.[90]
The words of his chaplain in recording this measure of Henry deserve a place here. Indeed, every page of contemporary history proves that the King himself had no misgivings as to the uprightness and justice of his cause, and was ready to refer the whole to the judgment of Christendom. "The King caused transcripts of all treaties to be forwarded to the general council, to the Emperor Sigismund and other Catholic princes, to the intent that all Christendom might know how great injuries the duplicity of the French had inflicted upon him, and that he was, reluctantly and against his will, compelled, as it were, to raise his standard against the rebels."[91]
Nor can we here omit to observe, (though it be anticipating what must hereafter be again referred to in the course of the history,) that the behaviour of the Emperor, when, in the spring of the following year, he made a personal voyage to England on purpose to visit Henry, and the solemn declaration of the Duke of Burgundy, (of whose sincerity, however, no one can speak without hesitation,) "that he had at first thought Henry unjust in his demands, but was at length convinced of their justice," show that in the estimation of contemporaries, and those neither churchmen nor his own subjects, who may be suspected of partiality, Henry's character deserved better than to be stamped with the imputation of "lawless ambition and hypocrisy." It is very easy for any one to charge a fellow-creature with immoral and unchristian motives; and it may carry with it the appearance of honest indignation, and of an heroic love of virtue, religion, and truth, when one can tear off the veil of conquest and martial glory from the individual, and expose his naked faults to pity, or contempt, or hatred. But a good judge, in forming his own estimate of the motives which may have given birth to acts which fall under his cognizance, or in guiding others to return a righteous verdict, will not consider the most ready method of solving a difficulty to be always the safest. Take for granted that Henry's conduct towards France is intelligible on the ground of lawless ambition and gross hypocrisy, (though there is no proof of either,) it is equally, at least, intelligible on the supposition of his full and undoubting conviction of his right to all he claimed. And just as open would any individual plaintiff be to the charge of hypocrisy, who, after having insisted upon his full rights, and given notice of trial, and collected his witnesses, should, on the very eve of the issue being tried, write to the defendant, urging him to yield, and avoid the expense and irritation of a protracted law-suit, offering at the same time a remission of some portion of his claim,—as Henry is in fairness chargeable with hypocrisy because he wrote to his "adversary of France," urging him to yield, and avoid the effusion of blood. On the very eve of his departure for the shores of Normandy, many facts and circumstances assure us that Henry acted under a full persuasion that he demanded of France only what was in strict justice his due when he laid claim to those territories and honours which had been so long withheld from the Kings of England, his predecessors. Facts are decidedly against the charge of hypocrisy; but, even were the facts doubtful, his general character for honesty, and openness, and manly straightforward dealing, (to which history bears abundant evidence,) would make the scale of justice preponderate in his favour.
In dismissing this subject, parallel with these modern accusations of Henry on the ground of "cajoling hypocrisy" we may lay the testimony borne by his contemporary, Walsingham,[92] to the unsuspecting simplicity of his mind, which exposed him to the overreaching designs of the unprincipled and crafty. In his Ypodigma Neustriæ, a work expressly written for the use and profit of Henry, and with a view of putting him upon his guard against the intrigues of foreign courts, he refers to his "innocence liable to be circumvented, and his noble character likely to be deceived, by the cunning craftiness and hypocritical fraud and false promises of his enemies."
CHAPTER XXI.
preparations for invading france. — reflections on the military and naval state of england. — mode of raising and supporting an army. — song of agincourt. — henry of monmouth the founder of the english royal navy. — custom of impressing vessels for the transporting of troops. — henry's exertions in ship-building. — gratitude due to him. — conspiracy at southampton. — prevalent delusion as to richard ii. — the earl of march. — henry's forces. — he sails for normandy.
1415.
PREPARATIONS FOR INVADING FRANCE.
It is impossible for us to revert with never so cursory a glance to the departure of Henry of Monmouth from his native shores at the head of an armament intended to recover his alleged rights in France, without finding various questions suggesting themselves, both on the mode adopted for raising and embodying the men, and for transporting the troops and military stores, and all the accompaniments of an invading army. The Kings of England had then no standing army, nor any permanent royal fleet.
In the present volume we have often seen that on an emergence, such as an irruption of the Scots, or the necessity of resisting the Welsh more effectually, the sheriffs of different counties were commanded to array the able-bodied men within their jurisdiction, and join the royal standard by an appointed day; and, no doubt, many a motley, and ill-favoured, and ill-appointed company were seen in the sheriff's train. We have also been reminded with how great difficulty even these musters could be collected, and kept together, and marched to the place of rendezvous; and how seldom could they be brought in time to join in the engagement for which they were destined. We have repeatedly also learned that the nobles who would recommend themselves to the royal favour, or espoused heartily the cause in which they were engaged, headed their own retainers to the field, and made themselves responsible for their maintenance and pay. In the present case we have reason to believe that the army consisted mainly of volunteers; at least, that the principal persons in rank and fortune joined the King's standard without compulsion. A very lively and enthusiastic interest in the success of his expedition prevailed through the whole country; and the nobles redeemed their pledge, without grudging, that they would aid him in their persons. The pay of the army was settled beforehand, at a fixed rate, from a duke downwards.[93]
Whether there is any foundation at all in fact for the tradition of Henry's resolution to take with him no married man or widow's son, the tradition itself bears such strong testimony to the general estimate of Henry's character for bravery at once and kindness of heart, that it would be unpardonable to omit every reference to it altogether. The song of Agincourt, in which it occurs, is unquestionably of ancient origin; probably written and sung within a very few years of the expedition.[94] Internal evidence would induce us to infer that it was composed before Henry's death, and just after his marriage with Katharine:
"The fairest flower in all France,
To the rose of England I give free."
The ballad, at all events, is among the earliest of our English songs, and was delivered down from father to son in the most distant parts of the kingdom, when very few of those who preserved the national poetry from oblivion could read. This circumstance easily accounts for the many various readings which are found in different copies now, whilst these in their turn tend to establish the antiquity of the song. The admirable simplicity and true natural beauty of the verse will justify its repetition here, though it has already appeared in our title-page, when it ascribes to Henry the combination of valour and high resolve, with merciful considerateness and tender feeling for others. Be the authority for this reported restriction, imposed by Henry on those who were commissioned to recruit soldiers for his expedition, what it may, (let it be founded in fact, or in the imagination of the writer,) it bears that testimony to Henry's character,[95] which the whole current of authentic documents tends fully to establish. He was brave, and he was merciful.
"Go! call up Cheshire and Lancashire,
And Derby hills,[96] which are so free;
But neither married man, nor widow's son,—
No widow's curse shall go with me."
Of the numbers who went with Henry to France various accounts are delivered down, and different calculations have been made. The song of Agincourt raises the sum of the "right good company" to "thirty thousand stout men and three:" and probably this total, embracing servants and attendants of every kind, is not at all an exaggeration of the number actually transported from England to Normandy; though, if by "stout men" we are to understand warriors able to handle the spear, the bow, the sword, and the battleaxe, we must not reckon them at more than one-third of that number.
The expedients which Henry found it necessary to adopt for the safe transportation of this armament, compel us to review, however briefly, the state and circumstances of English navigation at the period. The Author has already hazarded the opinion in his Preface, that Henry of Monmouth may with justice be regarded as the founder of the British navy; and he feels himself called upon to refer to some facts by which such a representation might seem to be countenanced. He gladly acknowledges that the idea was first suggested to him by the publication of Sir Henry Ellis; whilst every subsequent research, and every additional fact, have tended to confirm and illustrate the same view.[97]
Though few subjects are more interesting, or more deserve the attention of our fellow-countrymen, yet it is confessedly beyond the province of these Memoirs to enter at any length upon a dissertation on the naval affairs of Great Britain. Since, however, if satisfactorily established, the fact will recommend the hero of Agincourt to the grateful remembrance of his father-land in a department of national strength and glory in which few of us have probably hitherto felt indebted to him, it is hoped that these brief remarks may not be deemed out of place.
Unquestionably, many previous sovereigns of England had directed much of their thoughts to the maritime power of the country. From the time of Alfred himself, downwards, we may trace, at various intervals, evident marks of the measures adopted by our Kings and the legislature, and also by powerful individuals and merchant companies, to keep up a succession of sea-worthy vessels, and mariners to man them. Two hundred years before the date of Henry's expedition, as early as the year 1212, King John seems to have established a sort of dry covered dock at Portsmouth for the preservation of ships and their rigging during the winter. But the very instances to which appeals have been made by various writers, to prove the antiquity of the naval force of South Britain, tend by their testimony to confirm the opinions we are here disposed to adopt. In every successive reign, the annals of which supply any information on the subject, the evidence is clear that the rulers of England did not contemplate the establishment of a fleet belonging to the nation as its own property. The tenures, moreover, by which many maritime towns held their charters, whilst they evince the importance attached to this department of an island's political power, coincide altogether with the view we are taking. The obligation, for example, under which the Cinque Ports lay of furnishing, whenever required, fifty ships, manned each with twenty-four mariners, for fifteen days, enabled the monarch indeed to calculate, from the fulfilment of such stipulated engagements, on a certain supply, adequate, it may be, to meet the usual demand; but at the same time it implied that he had no fleet of his own on which he could rely. Whilst the limited extent to which ships could be supplied by the most rigid exaction of the terms of those tenures compelled the state, on any occasion when extraordinary efforts were requisite, to depend upon the varying and precarious supply produced by the system of impressment.[98]
When Henry ascended the throne, he found still in full operation this old system of our maritime proceedings. Whenever, as we have seen, an occasion required the transport of a considerable body of men from our havens, or forces to be embarked for the protection of our shores and of our merchants, in addition to the contingent, which could be exacted from various chartered towns, the King's government was obliged either to hire ships from foreign countries, or to lay forcible hands by way of impressment on the vessels of his own subjects. A few instances, more or less closely connected with the immediate subject of our present inquiry, will serve to illustrate that point.
When, for example, Henry's great grandfather Edward III. was preparing for the expedition, which he headed in person, intended to relieve Rochelle, his grandfather John of Gaunt, February 10, 1372, as we find by the records of the Duchy of Lancaster, commanded all his stewards in Wales to assist Walter de Wodeburgh, serjeant-at-arms, appointed by the King to arrest all ships of twenty tons' burden [and upwards?] for the passage of the King and his army to France, and to take sufficient security that they be all ready by the 1st of May either at Southampton, Portsmouth, Hamel in the Rys, or Hamel Stoke.
The records of the Privy Council (11 December, probably 1405,) supply us with an instance (one out of many) which shows, at the same time, the great injury which the public service sustained by this system, and the ruinous consequences which it was calculated to entail on the merchants and the owners of ships. Henry IV. had intended to proceed in person to Guienne; and for that purpose, with the advice of his council, had impressed all the ships westward. His voyage was deferred; but the ships were still, as they had been for a long time, under arrest. The masters had sent a deputation to him to implore some compensation for their great expenses,[99] and some means of support. Henry then wrote to the council, praying them [vous prions] to provide some help for these poor men; and to assure them that no long time would elapse before their services would be called for, since either himself or his representative would undertake the voyage. In the same letter he prayed the council also to write under his privy seal to the King of Portugal, to beg of him a supply of galleys, sufficient to enable him to resist the malice of his enemies the French, and to protect his land and his realm.
We must not suppose that the French monarch found himself under more favourable circumstances when he would prepare for any important affair on the sea. The same system of impressment and hiring was necessarily adopted in France. Thus we find, in 1417, when the French government resolved to make a powerful effort to crush the navy of England, the ships were first to be "hired, at a great sum of gold, from the state of Genoa." These mercenary vessels formed the fleet over which the Earl of Huntingdon gained a decided victory immediately before Henry's second expedition to France.
Thus, too, (not to cite any more examples,) no sooner had Henry determined to assert his rights on the Continent, and to enforce them by the sword, than he despatched ambassadors to Zealand and Holland to negociate with the Duke of Holland for a supply of ships; doubtless assured that all which he could impress or hire in all his ports would not be sufficient for the safe transport of his troops, and "their furniture of war." But Henry's ardent and commanding mind soon saw how powerful an engine, both of defence and of conquest, would be found in a permanent royal navy, and how indispensable such an establishment was to any insular sovereign who desired to provide for his country the means of offering a bold front against aggression, protecting herself from insult, maintaining her rights, and taking a lead among the surrounding powers. He resolved, therefore, not to depend upon the precarious and unsatisfactory expedients either of hiring vessels, which would never be his own, (in a market, too, where his enemy might forestal him, and where his necessities would enhance the price,) or of compelling his merchants to leave their trading, and minister to the emergence of the state, at their own inevitable loss, and not improbable ruin. His immediate determination was to spare neither labour nor expense in providing a navy of his own, such as would be ever ready at the sovereign's command to protect the coast, to sweep the seas of those hordes of pirates which then infested them, and to bear his forces with safety and credit to any distant shores. He thus thought he should best secure his own ports and provinces from foreign invasion; afford a safeguard to his own merchants, and to those traders who would traffic with his people; and generally make England a more formidable antagonist and a more respected neighbour.
This new line of policy he adopted very early in his reign. Whilst he was at Southampton, (at the date of this digression, on his first expedition to Normandy,) we find him superintending the building of various large ships: and, two years afterwards, when news reached him of the victory gained by his brother the Duke of Bedford over the French fleet off Harfleur, the tidings found him making the most effectual means for securing future victories; he was at Smalhithe in Kent, personally superintending the building of some ships to add to his own royal navy, then only in its infancy.[100]
Nor did he confine his labours in this great work to England; he employed also his Continental resources in forwarding the same object. A letter from one John Alcestre, from Bayonne,[101] informs us of a ship of very considerable dimensions then on the stocks at that port, for the building of which the mayor and "his consorts" had contracted with Henry. The vessel was one hundred and eighty-six feet in length from "the onmost end of the stem onto the post behind." "The stem" was in height ninety-six feet, and the keel was in length one hundred and twelve feet.
Henry appears also to have acquired the reputation in foreign countries of having a desire to possess large vessels of his own. An agent in Spain, for example, after informing one of the King's officers in England of his unsuccessful endeavour to cause to be seized for the King's use four armed galleys of Provence, expected to enter the port of Valencia, and which the King of Arragon's government had consented to arrest for Henry, but which disappointed them by not coming to land, mentions that two new carraks (a species of large transport vessel) were in building "at Bartholem," which the King might have if he pleased.
The high importance which Henry attached to these rising bulwarks of his country shows itself in various ways; in none more curious and striking than (a fact, it is presumed, new to history,) in the solemn religious ceremony with which they were consecrated before he committed them to the mighty waters. One of the highest order of the Christian ministry was employed, and similar devotions were performed at the dedication of one of the royal "great ships," as we should find in the consecration of a cathedral. They were called also by some of the holiest of all names ever uttered by Christians.[102] Thus, on the completion of the good ship the Grace-Dieu at Southampton, the "venerable father in Christ, the Bishop of Bangor,"[103] was commissioned by the King's council to proceed from London at the public expense to consecrate it.
When Henry of Monmouth died, the navy of England was doubtless yet in its infancy;[104] but it owed its existence as a permanent royal establishment to him. We cannot look back on that "day of small things" without feelings of admiration and gratitude; nor now that we seem, for a time at least, free from the danger of foreign invasion, must we forget that, in the late tremendous struggle which swept away the monarchies and the liberties of Europe in one resistless flood, to our navy, which had grown with the growth of our country, and strengthened with her strength, our native land may, under the blessing of Heaven, have been indebted for its continuance in freedom and independence. Of those wooden walls of Old England, as a royal establishment based on systematic principles, Henry of Monmouth was undoubtedly the founder.
Whilst Henry was engaged at Southampton in personally superintending the preparations for invading France, an event occurred well fitted to fill him equally with surprise, and indignation, and sorrow. A conspiracy against his crown and his life was brought to light, which had been formed by three in his company against whom he could have entertained no suspicions: Richard of York, whom he had created Earl of Cambridge; Henry Lord Scrope, the treasurer; and Sir Thomas Grey of Heton. The Rolls of Parliament, containing the authentic record of the proceedings consequent upon the discovery, and the original letters of the Earl of Cambridge, leave no question as to the designs of the conspirators. Some doubts may exist as to their motives: whether they were influenced singly by a generous resolution to restore the crown to its alleged rightful heir,[105] or by some less honourable and more selfish feeling;[106] whether by any offence taken against Henry, or, as it is alleged, by the vast bribe offered to them by the crown of France; or whether by more than one of these motives combined, must remain a matter of conjecture. We cannot, perhaps, be certified of the means by which Henry became acquainted with the plot, nor if, as we are told, he was informed of it by the Earl of March himself, can we ascertain beyond doubt how large or how small a share that nobleman had in the previous deliberations and resolutions of the conspirators. Whether he first consented to their design of setting him up as king, and then repented of so ungrateful an act towards one who had behaved to him with so much kindness and confidence, or whether he instantly took the resolve to nip this treason in the bud, no documents enable us to decide. If the Earl of Cambridge's confession be the truth, the Earl of March at one time was himself consenting to the plot.
On the 21st of July a commission was appointed, consisting of the Earl Marshal, two of the judges,[107] six lords, and Sir Thomas Erpingham, to try the conspirators: and the sheriff of the county was ordered to summon a jury, who assembled at Southampton on the 2nd of August, and found as their verdict, that, on the 20th of July, the Earl of Cambridge and Sir Thomas Grey had traitorously conspired to collect a body of armed men, to conduct Edmund Earl of March to the frontiers of Wales, and to proclaim him the rightful heir to the crown, in case Richard II. were actually dead, against the pretensions of the King, whom they intended to style "the Usurper of England;" that they purposed to destroy the King and his brothers, with other nobles of the land; and that Lord Scrope consented to the said treasonable designs, and concealed them from the King.
Lord Scrope denied having consented to the death of the King, or having had any communication with the other conspirators on that point; and he declared that he had communicated with them on the other points solely to possess himself of a knowledge of their designs in order to frustrate them. He then pleaded his peerage, and his right to be tried by his peers.
Sentence of death in the usual manner was passed upon Grey; but the King having, by a most rare instance of mercy in those days, remitted that part of the sentence which directed him to be drawn on a hurdle and hung, he was allowed to walk through the town to the Northgate, and was there immediately beheaded. On Monday, August 5, the Duke of Clarence presided in a court of the peers, who, having satisfied themselves by carefully examining the record of the conviction of the prisoners, Scrope and Cambridge, adjudged them to death. They were both executed within a few hours of this judgment. The head of Scrope was ordered to be affixed on one of the gates of York and the head of Grey to be stuck up at Newcastle upon Tyne, to mark the baseness of their ingratitude, who had enjoyed so closely the confidence and friendship of Henry.[108]
Nothing is recorded officially of any bribe from France, but the fact of "one million of gold" having been promised as the wages of their treason is asserted by historians. "These lords, for lucre of money," (to use the words of a manuscript[109] apparently contemporary with the event,) "had made promise to the Frenchmen to have slayne King Henry and all his worthy brethren by a false trayne [treason?] suddenly or they had beware. But Almighty God, of his great grace, held his holy hand over them, and saved them from this perilous meyne [band]. And for to have done this they received of the Frenchmen a million of gold, and that was there proved openly."
As to the guilt or innocence of the Earl of March himself, no proof can be drawn from the fact of his having obtained a full and free pardon[110] a few days after the event. "Such pardons" (as Dr. Lingard rightly observes) "were frequently solicited by the innocent as a measure of precaution to defeat the malice and prevent the accusations of their enemies." Sir Harris Nicolas indeed suggests, "that it would be difficult to show an instance in which they were granted in favour of a person who was not strongly suspected, or who had not purchased them at the expense of his accomplices." But it requires little more than a cursory glance at our authentic records to be assured that Dr. Lingard's view is the more correct. Take, for example, the pardon granted in 1412 to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and couched in almost the same words. There is indeed in this pardon a clause very different from the pardon of the Earl of March; but it is a difference which only tends to establish this point, that the pardons in many cases were formal, and altogether independent of the guilt or innocence of the party. The Archbishop (Arundel) is pardoned for all treasons, felonies, and so forth, excepting some outrageous crimes of which he was never suspected; and also provided he was not then lying in prison as a felon convict, or as an adherent to Owyn Glyndowr. Many such instances occur.[111]
On this sad subject two original letters are preserved, addressed to Henry by the Earl of Cambridge; they are found among the "Original Letters" published by Sir Henry Ellis, accompanied, as is usual[112] in his valuable collection, by a succinct and clear statement of such facts as may be necessary for their elucidation. The first contains the Earl's confession; whether written before or after his trial, is not evident. The second sues for mercy, probably after the jury had returned their verdict; it may be even after the sentence was passed by the peers, though a very short portion of a day elapsed between that sentence and his execution.
It is curious to learn, from the first of these letters, that even down to the year of Henry's first expedition to France, the people were from time to time deluded by rumours that Richard II. was still alive. The Earl of Cambridge acknowledged that the conspirators intended to set up the Earl of March, "taking upon him the sovereignty of this land, if yonder man's person, which they call King Richard, had not been alive, as I wot well that he is not alive." He confessed, also, a guilty knowledge of a conspiracy to "bring in that person which they named King Richard, and Harry Percy out of Scotland, with a power of Scots."
Another very curious fact is alleged in this document, interesting in more points than one. It shows what a powerful engine in those days was the Confessional; and it proves also that, though Henry has been called the King of Priests, there were some of the sacred order in high station who were bent on his overthrow. Cambridge declares that both the Earl of March and his man Lusy had assured him that the Earl "was not shriven of a great while [had not attended the priests for the purposes of confession] without his confessors, on every occasion, putting him in penance to claim what they called his right." His confessors would not absolve him without imposing upon him, by way of penance, this condition, that he should claim his right to the crown.
LETTER OF CONFESSION FROM THE EARL OF CAMBRIDGE.
My most dreadful and sovereign liege Lord, like to your Highness to wit [please your Highness to know] touching the purpose cast against your high estate. Having the Earl of March, by his own assent, and by the assent of myself, whereof I most me repent of all worldly things; and by the accord of Lord Scrope and Sir Thomas Grey, to have had the aforesaid Earl in the land of Wales without your licence, taking upon him the sovereignty of this land, if yonder man's person, which they call King Richard, had not been alive, as I wot well that he is not alive;[113] for which point I put me wholly in your grace. And as for the form of a proclamation which should have been cried in the Earl's name as the heir to the crown of England against you, my liege Lord, called by untrue name Harry of Lancaster, usurper of England, to the intent to have made the more people to have drawn to him and from you; of the which cry Scrope knew not of as from me, but Grey did; having with the Earl a banner of the arms of England, having also the crown of Spain on a pallet, which, my liege Lord, is one of your weddys, for the which offence I put me wholly in your grace. And as for the purpose taken by Umfrevyle and Wederyngtoun for the bringing in of that person which they named King Richard, and Herry Percy, out of Scotland, with a power of Scots, and their power together seeming to them able to give you a battle, of the which intent Sir Thomas Grey wist of, but not Scrope as by me; of the which knowing I submit me wholly into your grace. And as for the taking of your castles in Wales, Davy Howell made me be host, so there were a stirring in the North; of the which point I put me wholly in your grace. And as touching the Earl of March and Lusy his man, they said me both, that the Earl was not shriven of a great while, but at all his confessors put him in penance to claim that they called his right, that would be that time that every iknew anything that ever to him longed.... [The MS. is here imperfect.] Of the which points and articles here before written, and of all other which now are not in my mind, but truly as often as any to my mind fallen I shall duly and truly certify you thereof; beseeching to you, my liege Lord, for His love that suffered passion on the Good Friday, so have ye compassion on me, your liege man; and if any of these persons, whose names are contained in this bill, holden contrary the substance of that I have written at this time, I shall be ready with the might of God to make it good, as ye, my liege Lord, will award me.
LETTER OF THE EARL OF CAMBRIDGE, SUING FOR MERCY.
My most dreadful and sovereign liege Lord, I, Richard York, your humble subject and very liege man, beseech you of grace of all manner offenses which I have done or assented to in any kind, by stirring of other folk egging me thereto, wherein I wot well I han ill offended to your Highness; beseeching you at the reverence of God, that you like to take me into the hands of your merciful and piteous grace, thinking ye well of your great goodness. My liege Lord, my full trust is that ye will have consideration, though that my person be of no value, your high goodness, where God hath set you in so high estate to every liege man that to you longeth plenteously to give grace, that you like to accept this mine simple request for the love of Our Lady and the blissful Holy Ghost, to whom I pray that they might your heart induce to all pity and grace for their high goodness.
Henry having taken every precaution for the preservation of his people at home, as well against foreign designs as against disturbers of the peace within the realm, left Porchester Castle on the 7th of August, with the intention of superintending in person the embarkation of his troops. This seems to have occupied him to the 10th, when he went on board the "Royal Trinity," and immediately gave signal for the ships to join him from the different stations in which they were awaiting his command. The fleet consisted of about thirteen hundred vessels of very different sizes, varying from twenty to three hundred tons' burden. Probably, reckoning servants, attendants of every kind, as well as fighting men, this fleet transported to the shores of France not less than thirty thousand persons. Of these there were only about two thousand five hundred men-at-arms, four thousand horse-archers, four thousand foot-archers, and one thousand gunners, miners, masons, smiths, with others. The whole amount of fighting men, according to this calculation, does not exceed eleven thousand five hundred. The expedition sailed with a favourable wind on Sunday, August 11, 1415.[114]
Every document, probably, now known relative to this expedition, has been examined by Sir Harris Nicolas; and to his able digest of the facts relating to this part of Henry's proceedings the reader is referred for the more minute details.
CHAPTER XXII.
henry crosses the sea: lands at clef de caus: lays siege to harfleur. — devoted attendance on his dying friend the bishop of norwich. — vast treasure falls into his hands on the surrender of harfleur. — he challenges the dauphin. — futile modern charge brought against him on that ground.
1415.
From this time Henry's is the life rather of a general than of a King. His successive battles, and sieges, and victories throw but occasionally more or new light on his character; and it is not within the limits of these Memoirs to describe his military achievements, or to enter upon a detailed examination of his campaigns, except so far only as the events elucidate his character, or as a knowledge of them may be necessary for a fuller acquaintance with his life. Many circumstances of this kind occur between the day when he quitted his port of Southampton, and the hour which terminated his brief but eventful career on earth. The enemies of his fair fame cite some one or other of those transactions to prove him a mass of ambition, superstition, and cruelty. It will be the reader's part to decide for himself whether the facts in evidence bear out those charges, or whether a more equitable judgment would not rather pronounce him to be a man who, in the midst of a most exciting and distracting career, never forgot the principles of piety, justice, and mercy. To attest his valour we need summon no evidence; though even in that point, which the universal voice of Europe had pronounced to be unassailable, his challenge to the Dauphin has been cited by one author as an act that must tarnish his character. The justness of the reflection we shall weigh hereafter. Of licentiousness after his accession to the throne his enemies themselves have never ventured to whisper a suspicion.
As Henry's fleet was leaving his native shores, two incidents are said to have occurred of opposite omen, such as in those days of superstition were wont to exercise powerful influence over the minds of men far removed from the lowest ranks of the people. Swans were seen swimming gaily and fearlessly around the ships, as if hailing them on their own watery element; and their appearance was noted as a happy and encouraging auspice. On the other hand, a fire broke out in one of the large ships before Henry sailed, which did considerable damage among the vessels, not without loss of many lives; and this was deemed an omen of such dire portent, that many of the King's followers would have dissuaded him from persevering in his expedition.
Henry's was a pious, but not a religiously timid or superstitious mind; and, unaffected by this incident, or the entreaties of his friends, he proceeded on his voyage forthwith, and on Friday, August 13, at five o'clock in the afternoon, he entered the mouth of the Seine, and anchored at a place called Clef de Caus,[115] between Honfleur and Harfleur, three miles from the latter town. He landed his forces without opposition; and, on coming on shore himself, he knelt down, and prayed to Almighty God to prosper his just cause.[116]
Henry resolved on laying siege to Harfleur, the inhabitants of which seemed equally determined to resist him. The siege of Harfleur, which commenced on Sunday, August 18, is described with great minuteness by several writers. His brother, the Duke of Clarence, appears to have held the most prominent place among Henry's officers; and much praise is ascribed to him for his prowess and military talent. Every mode of attack and defence then reckoned among martial tactics was carried out on both sides.
In addition, however, to the wonted privations and hardships of a protracted siege, the English host was visited by a violent disease, which spread rapidly through every grade of the army, unsparingly thinning its ranks and carrying off its officers, and threatening annihilation to the whole body. Whilst this calamity was raging at its height, and making dreadful havoc among the soldiery, an incident is recorded to have taken place, to which the mind gladly turns from the din and turmoil of the siege, and the devastations of that fatal scourge; and though the scene is itself the chamber of death, we cannot but feel a melancholy satisfaction in contemplating it for a while. An ecclesiastic, who was present in the camp, and in attendance on his royal master, records the anecdote in the most casual manner,[117] without a word of admiration or remark to call our attention to it, as though he were relating a circumstance of no unusual occurrence, and such merely as those who knew his master might hear of without surprise; whilst few pages of history bear to any monarch more beautiful and affecting evidence of habitual kindness of heart, pure sympathy with a suffering fellow-creature, and devoted fulfilment of the dearest offices of friendship. Whilst Richard Courtenay, Bishop of Norwich, one of the victims of the dysentery, was lingering in the agonies of death, we find Henry in the midst of his besieging army, at the height of a very severe struggle, war and disease raging on every side,—not in a council of his officers, planning the operations of to-morrow,—nor on his couch, giving his body and mind repose from the fatigues and excitement of his opening campaign,—but we see him on his knees at the death-bed of a dying minister of religion, joining in the offices of the church so long as the waning spirit could partake of its consolations; and then not commissioning others, however faithful representatives they might have been, to act in his stead, but by his own hands soothing the sufferings of the dying prelate, and striving to make the struggle of his latter moments less bitter. Had Henry visited the tent of the good Bishop when he first knew of his malady, and charged any of his numerous retinue to pay especial attention to his wants and comforts, it would have been regarded, at such an hour of pressing emergence, as an act worthy of a Christian King. But Henry, who in no department of his public duties ever willingly deputed to others what he could personally attend to himself, carried the same principle into the exercise of the charities of private life; and has here left a pattern of Christian sympathy and lowliness of mind, of genuine philanthropy, and the sincere affection of true friendship, worthy of prince and peasant alike to imitate. Bishop Courtenay is said to have been among Henry's chosen friends, recommended to him by the singular qualities of his head and his heart. He was a person (we are told) endowed with intellectual and moral excellences of a very high character; and Henry knew how to appreciate the value, and cultivate the friendship, of such a man. Having enjoyed the satisfaction and benefit of his society in life, now, when he was on the point of quitting this world for ever, Henry never withdrew from his bed; but, watching him with tender anxiety till the ministers of religion had solemnized the last rite according to the prevailing practice of the church in those days, even then, "in his own person," he continued to supply the wants of sinking mortality, "with his own hands[118] wiping the chilled feet" of his dying friend. The manuscript proceeds to say, that, when life was extinct, with pious regard for his memory, Henry caused his body to be conveyed to England, and to be honourably buried among the royal corpses in Westminster.
Three days after this prelate's death, on Wednesday, September 18th, an agreement to surrender on the following Sunday was entered into; the inhabitants of the town pledging themselves by a most solemn oath to abide by the terms of the agreement. The ceremony on this occasion must have had a very imposing effect. The King's chaplain, Benedict Bishop of Bangor, in his pontifical dress, carried the consecrated Host to the walls of the town, preceded by thirty-two chaplains, each in full canonicals, and attended by as many esquires, one of whom bore a lighted taper before each priest. As soon as the parties were sworn on the elements, the townsmen were assured that they need fear no acts of wrong or violence, for the King wished rather to preserve than to destroy his own territory.
On Sunday, September 22, the town was surrendered with much solemn state into Henry's hands. At the appointed hour, Henry, being dressed in the robes of royalty, ascended a throne erected under a silk pavilion on the top of the hill opposite to the town. All his peers and great men were assembled around him. "Our King"[119] (says a writer who was probably an eye-witness) "sat in his estate as royal as did ever any King; and, as it is said, there never was a Christian King so royal, neither so lordly, sat in his seat as did he." From this seat to the town a passage was formed by the English soldiers, through which the late governor, Sir Lionel Braquemont, the Lord de Gaucourt, and others, with the Host borne before them, attended by those who had sworn to observe the treaty, and by thirty-four of the chief inhabitants, passed to Henry's presence, "who forgave them their injustice in keeping his own town from him; and, having hospitably entertained them, dismissed them courteously." Thus fell into Henry's hand one of the most important towns of Normandy, after a siege of about thirty-six days, during which the zeal and valour of the assailants and the besieged were equally displayed.[120]
On the following day Henry entered the town, dismounting at the gate, and walking barefoot to St. Martin's church, in which he gave solemn thanks to God for his success. He then commanded all the women and children, and the disabled, to be separated from those who had sworn allegiance to him, as well as from those who, having refused that oath, were regarded as prisoners. The persons thus separated were next day sent out of the town, to the number of nearly two thousand, loudly lamenting their fate. They were escorted by the English; and all persons belonging to the church, and the women and children, had a present of five sous for their journey, and were permitted to dress themselves in their best apparel, and carry each a moderate bundle with them. It was forbidden to search the priests, and also the heads or the bosoms of the women. At St. Aubon, about four miles from Harfleur, they were entreated to refresh themselves with bread and cheese and wine; at Lislebone the Marshal Boucicault received them, and they were forwarded by water to Rouen. At Henry's invitation, many tradesmen and others came over from England, and became inhabitants of Harfleur; the King, with the desire of strengthening the place, having guaranteed, by a proclamation through England, a house of inheritance to all who would settle there.
About this time Henry sent a message to the Dauphin, challenging him to single combat, and so to decide the dreadful struggle in which the two kingdoms were engaged, without the further effusion of blood. Occasion has been taken to reflect on this act of Henry's, as a stain both on his personal valour and on his principles of justice: the first, because he was twenty-seven years old, and the Dauphin not twenty; the latter, because it were unjust "to expect that so important a stake should be hazarded on the result of such a meeting." To enhance Henry's guilt of cowardice, we are told that he challenged "a mere youth, of whose prowess or bodily strength there is not the slightest evidence, and who died in the December following." This is not the first time we have had occasion to remark on this same writer's injustice towards Henry's memory. Why mention the Dauphin's death in the following December, except to insinuate that Henry knew he was then in a weak state of bodily health? Of this, however, there is not the shadow of reason for suspecting Henry. On the contrary, the evidence tends to the directly opposite conclusion. The Dauphin died on the 25th December following; but so sudden was his decease, that a suspicion was excited of his having been poisoned. He had for a long time been actively engaged in heading one of the contending parties in France, and he is reported to have been a bold and presumptuous prince.[121] And, even a month after the battle of Agincourt, we find him, apparently in full strength both of body and mind, exercising the authority of the King, his father, in Paris; vigorously and effectually resisting the entrance of the Duke of Burgundy, who marched with his army direct to the gates of that city, determined to force for himself an entrance into it. And, on his father's relapsing into his malady, he vigorously seized the government, setting the Duke of Orleans at defiance, and carrying off the King, his father, ill as he was, to the siege of Arras.[122] Whether the difference of age between these two young warriors is so great as to justify such strong reflections on Henry's courage, must be left to the judgment of impartial minds. But, when the Dauphin is called a mere youth, it must be borne in mind that he was considerably older than Henry was when he headed his father's troops in Wales, or fought so gallantly in the field of Shrewsbury.
But we must not let this charge, affecting Henry's valour and justice, be dismissed without observing that not only did Henry believe, but it was the universal belief of the age, that "trial by battle" was a proper way of ending a dispute, and one acceptable to God: one in which the justice of the quarrel decided, more than the strength or skill of the combatants. We have proved that there could have been no grounds for Henry's supposing that he was sending a challenge to a youth enervated by sickness; and the difference of age alleged now, at length, in disparagement of Henry's valour, would have been scouted by all the good knights of Christendom, had it been pleaded as an apology for the Dauphin declining the challenge. Surely it indicates a conviction that the points in which the character of a man, famed for bravery and justice, is assailable, are few and unimportant, when such frivolous attacks as this are made on his fair fame.
Henry's challenge to the Dauphin may be thus translated:—
Henry, by the grace of God, King of France and England, Lord of Ireland, to the high and mighty Prince, the Dauphin of Vienne, our cousin, eldest son of the most mighty Prince, our cousin and adversary of France. Whereas, from reverence to God, and to avoid the shedding of human blood, we have many times and in many ways followed and sought for peace, and have not been able to possess it, yet our desire to secure it increases more and more; and well considering that our wars are followed by the death of men, the destruction of countries, the wailings of women and children, and so many evils generally as every good Christian must lament and pity, especially ourselves, whom this affair most affects, as it does, to take all pains and diligence to find every means within our knowledge to avoid the above-mentioned evils and distresses, and to acquire the grace of God and the praise of the world. And, since we have thought and advised, it has seemed to us, considering it has pleased God to visit our cousin with infirmity, that the remedy rests upon us and you. And to the end that every one might know that we withdraw not ourselves from it, nor from our part in it, we offer you to put our whole quarrel, with God's grace, between our person and yours. And if it should seem to you that you cannot agree to this, because of the interest which you conceive our cousin, your father, has in it, we declare to you in this our intention, that if you will entertain it, and engage in it, we are well pleased that our said cousin, for our reverence to God, and because he is a sacred person, shall have and enjoy all he has at present for the term of his life, whatever shall happen by the will of God between us and you, as it shall be agreed between his council, ours, and yours.
So that if God shall give us the victory, the crown of France with its appurtenances, as our right, shall be immediately rendered to us without difficulty after his decease. And to this all the lords and estates of France shall be bound, as it shall be agreed between us.
For it is better for us, cousin, thus to decide this war for ever between our two persons, than to suffer the misbelievers, by occasion of our wars, to destroy Christianity, our holy mother the church to remain in divisions, and the people of God to destroy one another. We pray much that you may have as strong a desire to avoid that, and to come to peace, and seek all means of finding it. And let us trust in God that no better way than this can be found. And, therefore, in discharge of our soul, and in charge of yours, if such great evils follow, we make to you the above offer.
Protesting ever that we make this offer for the honour and fear of God, and for the above causes, of our own motion, without our royal relations, councillors, and subjects daring in so high a matter to advise us. Nor can it at any time to come be urged to our prejudice, nor in prejudice of our good right and title which we have at present to the said crown with its appurtenances, nor to the good right and title which we now have to other our lands and heritages on this side the sea, nor to our heirs and successors, if this our offer does not take full effect between us and you in the manner aforesaid. Given under our privy seal, at our town of Harfleur, the 16th[123] day of September."
CHAPTER XXIII.
henry, with troops much weakened, leaves harfleur, fully purposed to make for calais, notwithstanding the threatened resistance of the french. — passes the field of cressy. — french resolved to engage. — night before the conflict. — FIELD of AGINCOURT. — slaughter of prisoners. — henry, his enemies themselves being judges, fully exculpated from every suspicion of cruelty or unchivalrous bearing. — he proceeds to calais. — thence to london. — reception by his subjects. — his modest and pious demeanour. — superstitious proceedings of the ecclesiastical authorities. — reflections. — songs of agincourt.
1415.
Immediately after the surrender of Harfleur, Henry held a council to deliberate on his future measures. All agreed that, as winter was fast approaching, the King and his army should return to England; but there arose a difference of opinion as to the manner of their return. Henry entertained an insuperable objection against returning by sea; and, notwithstanding all the dangers to which he must inevitably be exposed, he resolved to march through Normandy to his town of Calais. He wished to see with his own eyes, he said, the territories which were by right his own; adding, that he put full trust in God, in whose name he had engaged in this, as he certainly deemed it, his righteous cause. His army had been frightfully diminished by the dysentery; he was compelled to leave a portion of the remainder to garrison Harfleur; and, after the most impartial consideration, the number of fighting men with whom he could enter upon his perilous journey cannot be supposed to have exceeded 9000, whilst the strong probability is that the army consisted of little more than 6000. What portion of admiration for bravery, and what of blame for rashness, an unprejudiced mind would mingle together, when endeavouring to assign the just reward to Henry for his decision to make his way through the very heart of his enemy's country, himself so weak in resources, his enemy both so strong already, and gathering in overwhelming numbers from every side, is a problem of no easy solution. Probably we are very scantily provided with a knowledge of all his motives; and our praise or our censure might now be very different from what it would be, were we acquainted with all the circumstances of the case. How far he expected that the dissensions among the French would prevent them from uniting to offer him any formidable opposition, though not easy to answer, is a question not to be neglected. Especially might he have been influenced by the expectation that the French would not withdraw their forces from the interior, from fear of the Duke of Burgundy, who was ever on the watch to seize a favourable moment of attack. The fact is beyond doubt, that, having garrisoned Harfleur, he quitted that town about the 8th of October; leaving there all the heavy articles and carriages, with whatever would be an impediment to his progress, and conveying all the baggage of the army on horseback. Henry issued a proclamation, forbidding his soldiers, on pain of death, to be guilty of any kind of injustice or cruelty towards the inhabitants as they passed along.
The King of France had collected an army from all sides: he had more than 14,000 men-at-arms under valiant generals, with the greater part of whom he remained at Rouen, watching the motions of the English. On the 20th of October it was resolved in his council, by a large majority, that the English should be resisted in a regular and pitched battle. The King had received the celebrated standard, the Oriflamme, with much solemnity: and war had been declared by unfurling that consecrated ensign. There seemed at length to have spread through King and princes, and nobles and people alike, an enthusiastic spirit, determined to crush the invaders. The Dauphin himself could scarcely be prevailed upon to obey his father's injunctions, and to abstain from joining the army; his life being considered too precious to be exposed to such danger.
Henry meanwhile, after leaving Harfleur,[124] proceeded without any important interruption through Montevilliers, Fecamp, Arques, a town about four miles inland from Dieppe; and on Saturday, October 12, he passed about half a mile to the right of the town of Eu, where part of the French troops were quartered. These sallied out on the English in great numbers, and very fiercely, but were soon repulsed; and a treaty was agreed upon between Henry and the inhabitants, who supplied refreshments to his army. He was now informed that the French would offer him battle in a day or two, whilst he was passing the river Somme. Undaunted by these tidings, he resolved to advance; and to cross that river at Blanchetache, the very spot at which Edward III. had passed it before the battle of Cressy. The field of Cressy was only ten English miles in advance; and it may be safely inferred that the remembrance of the struggle and victory of that day filled both Henry himself and his men with additional zeal and resolution. By the false assurance of a prisoner,[125] that the passage there was defended by many noblemen with a strong force, Henry was induced to change his route, and to proceed up the Somme on its left bank. He reached Abbeville on Sunday the 13th of October; but, to his sad disappointment, he found all the bridges broken down, and the enemy stationed on the opposite bank to resist his passage. At this time Henry's situation was most perilous and dispiriting. His provisions were nearly exhausted,—the enemy had laid waste their own country to deprive his army of all sustenance; and no prospect was before them but famine at once, and annihilation from the overwhelming forces of the French. His army proceeded next day, and passed within a league of Amiens, and were much refreshed with plenty of provisions; wine was found in such abundance that the King was obliged to issue a proclamation prohibiting excess. On the Thursday they reached a plain near Corbie, from which town the French made a sally against them, but were repulsed after a brief but spirited engagement. Here John Bromley gallantly recovered the standard of Guienne, and for his valour was allowed to bear its figure for his crest. Here too Henry showed that, amidst all his perils and hardships, he was resolved to maintain the discipline of his army by inflicting the punishment denounced by his proclamation against violence or sacrilege. One of the soldiers was detected with a copper-gilt pix in his sleeve,[126] which he had stolen from a neighbouring church. Henry sentenced him forthwith to be hung, as a warning to all others not to offend with the hope of impunity.
Quitting Corbie, they passed close to Nesle on the 18th October; when Henry, on the point of laying waste that district, heard that a passage over the Somme was at length discovered. The French, meanwhile, had contented themselves with proceeding before him, and guarding the passages of the river. Whether the policy of allowing the English to exhaust their strength of body and mind be sufficient, or not, to account for their conduct, we have not evidence enough to pronounce decidedly; but, on many occasions, their abstinence from striking a blow seems otherwise almost inexplicable. Henry made now one of his most vigorous efforts to effect a passage; nothing, we are told, could exceed his own personal exertions.[127] The French had broken up the lanes leading to the fords, and thrown every obstacle in the way. However, nothing seemed able to resist his resolution; and in a few hours the whole of his army had crossed. Great was the joy of the English on having surmounted this formidable obstacle; and they now hoped to reach Calais without a battle. But on the following day two heralds came to announce to Henry the resolution of the French to give him battle, and to take vengeance on him for invading their country. Henry, without any change of countenance, with much gentleness replied, "All would be done according to the will of God." On the heralds then asking him by what route he proposed to proceed, "Straight to Calais" was the reply. He then advised them not to attempt to interrupt his march, but to avoid the shedding of Christian blood. The heralds fell down upon their knees as they first approached him; and on dismissing them, he gave them a hundred golden crowns. From the hour of these heralds departing, Henry and his men always wore their warrior-dress, in readiness for battle; and he spoke to his army with much tenderness and spirit, and evidently with a powerful effect. To his surprise, next morning none appeared to oppose him, and he proceeded on his journey. Many circumstances happened from day to day, and hour to hour, calculated to dispirit the English, by exciting an assurance that the French army was near, and waiting their own time to seize upon their prey; delaying only in order to make their utter demolition more certain. Henry's route probably was taken through Peronne, Albert, Bonnieres,[128] Frevent; and he reached the river Ternoise (called the River of Swords) without any remarkable occurrence. No sooner, however, had he passed the Ternoise, and mounted the hill not far from Maisoncelle, than a man came, breathless, and told the Duke of York that the enemy was approaching in countless numbers. Henry forthwith commanded the main body to halt, and setting spurs to his horse hastened to view the enemy, who seemed to him like an immense forest covering the whole country. Nothing dismayed, he ordered his troops to dismount and prepare for battle; animating them by his calm, intrepid bearing, and by his language of kindness and encouragement. The French, who were first seen as they were emerging from a valley a mile off in three columns, halted at the distance of about half a mile.
The English felt assured that they would be immediately attacked; and, as soon as they were drawn up in order of battle, they prepared for death. The greatest want then felt in the camp was the lack of priests,[129] every one being anxiously desirous of making confession and obtaining absolution. Henry's presence of mind, and noble soul, and pious trust, and intrepid spirit, showed themselves on this occasion in words which ought never to be forgotten. Sir Walter Hungerford having expressed his sorrow that they had not ten thousand of those gallant archers who would be most desirous of aiding their King in his hour of need, the King rebuked him, saying, "He spoke idly, for, as his hope was in God, in whom he trusted for victory, he would not, if he could, increase his forces even by a single person; for, if it was the pleasure of the Almighty, few as were his followers, they were sufficient to chastise the confidence of the enemy, who relied on their numbers."
About sun-set the French took up their quarters in the orchards and villages of Agincourt and Ruissauville. Henry, anxiously seeking lodgings for his exhausted soldiers, at length found in the village of Maisoncelle a better supply for their wants than they had met with since they left Harfleur; and a small hut afforded the King himself protection from the weather.[130] Before the English quitted their position to go to Maisoncelle, Henry permitted all his prisoners to depart, upon condition that if he gained the approaching battle, they should return and surrender themselves; but, if he were defeated, they should be released from their engagements. This night, through nearly the whole of which rain fell heavily, was passed by the two hostile armies, about one mile distant from each other, very differently, but not inconsistently with their relative circumstances. Both suffered severely from the weather as well as from fatigue; but whilst the French, anticipating an easy and sure victory, played at dice for their prisoners as their stake; the English, having prepared their weapons for the conflict, betook themselves to prayer, and the observance of the other ordinances of their religion.
At day-break, on Friday, October 25, the French drew up in order of battle, in three lines, on the plain of Agincourt, through which was the route to Calais. Of their numbers the accounts both of English and French writers vary exceedingly, and it is impossible to fix upon any amount with confidence; probably, however, at the very lowest calculation they were more than fifty thousand men.
Henry was up at break of day, and immediately attended mass. He then, mounted on a small grey horse, bearing on his coat the arms of France and England, and wearing a magnificent crown on his head, drew up his men in order of battle in an open field. His main body, consisting of men-at-arms, he commanded himself; the vanguard was committed, as a right wing, to the Duke of York at his own request; and the rear-guard was posted, as a left wing, under the command of the Lord Camois. The archers were placed between the wings in the form of a wedge, with their poles fixed before them as a protection against the cavalry. Henry then rode along the lines, and addressed them in a speech full of spirit, well fitted to inspire in his men enthusiastic ardour and devotedness. "Sir," was the reply, "we pray God to give you a good life, and victory over your enemies." At this juncture (we are told by one historian[131]) an attempt was made at negociation, but it failed; Henry, in the midst of all his present perils, insisting virtually on the same terms which he had offered when in safety within the realm of England.[132]
The King assigned to the gallant veteran, Sir Thomas Erpingham, a friend of Henry, no less venerable for his age than distinguished for his bravery and military skill, the honourable duty of arraying his host. He first calmly marshalled the troops, placing the archers foremost and the men-at-arms behind them; and then, riding in front of the line, exhorted his brother-warriors in the name of their prince to fight valiantly. A third time did this aged and fearless knight ride before the ranks which were stationed to receive the first shock of the enemy, and if possible to turn back the apparently resistless and overwhelming tide of battle; and then, having deliberately executed his commission to the full, he threw up into the air the truncheon which he held in his hand, shouting, "Now strike!" and, immediately dismounting, joined the King and his attendants, who were all on foot. When the soldiers saw the staff in the air, and heard the cry of the veteran, they raised such a tremendous shout as startled the enemy, and filled them with amazement.[133]
It was now approaching mid-day; when Henry, perceiving that the enemy would not commence the attack, but were waiting either for reinforcements, or in the hope of compelling him by want of provisions to surrender, issued the command, "Banners, advance!" His soldiers fell down instantly upon the ground prostrate, and implored the Almighty to succour them; each, as it is said, putting a morsel of earth into his mouth in remembrance of their mortality. They then rose, and advanced firmly towards the enemy, shouting, and with the sound of trumpets. The Constable of France commanded his advanced guard to meet them, who instantly obeyed, with the war-cry "Montjoye!" The battle commenced by a shower of arrows from the English, which did great execution. The French cavalry were immediately thrown into confusion, chiefly in consequence of the horses rushing on the pointed stakes which were fixed before the English archers, and, maddened with pain, turning upon their own ranks. The battle was then tremendously obstinate: at one time, the shock of the French body caused the English to give way; but it was only to rush again upon their enemies with a renewed and still more impetuous and desperate attack. Their charge, like a torrent of mighty waters, was resistless; and the archers, having exhausted their quivers, and betaking themselves to their swords and bills and hatchets, the slaughter among the ranks of the French was dreadful. The Duke of Alençon endeavoured in vain to rally his men, now giving way, and being worsted on every side; and, returning himself to the struggle, he fell in single combat with King Henry himself. Whilst the conflict was raging, Anthony, Duke of Brabant, came up with such of his forces as could keep pace with him in his rapid haste towards the field of battle, and instantly mingled in the thickest of the fight: he fell too; gallantly, but unsuccessfully, striving to stem the flood. The battle seemed now to be decided, when that event took place, which every one must lament, and which nothing but necessity could justify,—
THE SLAUGHTER OF THE PRISONERS AT AGINCOURT.
The name of Henry of Monmouth is inseparable from the Battle of Agincourt; and immeasurably better had it been for his fair fame had himself and his little army been crushed in that tremendous struggle, by the overwhelming chivalry of France, than that he should have stained that day of conquest and glory by an act of cruelty or vengeance. If any cause except palpable and inevitable necessity could be proved to have suggested the dreadful mandate for his soldiers to put their prisoners to the sword, his memory must be branded by a stigma which no personal courage, not a whole life devoted to deeds of arms, nor any unprecedented career of conquest, could obliterate. The charge of cruelty, however, like some other accusations, examined at length in these Memoirs, is of comparatively recent origin; and as in those former instances, so in this, our duty is to ascertain the facts from the best evidence, and dispassionately to draw our inference from those facts after an upright scrutiny and patient weighing of the whole question in all its bearings. Our abhorrence of the crime may well make us hesitate before we pronounce judgment against one to whose mercy and chivalrous honour his contemporaries bore willing and abundant testimony; the enormity of so dreadful an example compels us, in the name of humanity and of justice, not to screen the guilty. We may be wisely jealous of the bias and prejudice which his brilliant talents, and his life of patriotism and glory, may unconsciously communicate to our minds; we must be also upon our guard lest an excessive resolution to do justice, foster imperceptibly a morbid acquiescence in the condemnation of the accused.
The facts, then, as they are gleaned from those authors who wrote nearest to the time (two of whom, one French, the other English, were actually themselves present on the field of battle, and were eye-witnesses of some portion at least of the circumstances which they narrate,) seem to have been these, in their order and character.
At the close of one of the most desperate struggles ever recorded in the annals of ancient or modern warfare, whilst the enemy were in the act of quitting the field, but had not left it, the English were employing what remained of their well nigh exhausted strength in guarding their prisoners, and separating the living from the dead, who lay upon each other, heaps upon heaps, in one confused and indiscriminate mass. On a sudden a shout was raised, and reached Henry, that a fresh reinforcement[134] of the enemy in overwhelming numbers had attacked the baggage, and were advancing in battle-array against him. He was himself just released from the furious conflict in which, at the close of his almost unparalleled personal exertion, he engaged with the Duke of Alençon, and slew him on the spot. Precisely, also, at this juncture, the main body of the French who had been engaged in the battle, and were apparently retreating, were seen to be collecting in great numbers, and forming themselves into bodies, throughout the plain, with the purpose, as it appeared, of returning to the engagement.
To delay might have been the total sacrifice of himself and his gallant little band; to hesitate might have been death. Henry instantly, without a moment's interval, by sound of trumpet ordered his men to form themselves, and attack the body who were advancing upon his rear, and to put the prisoners to death, "lest they should rush upon his men during the fight." These mandates were obeyed.[135] The French reinforcement, advancing from the quarter where the baggage was stationed, no sooner felt a shower of arrows, and saw a body of men ready to give them battle, than they turned to flight; and instantly Henry, on seeing them run, stopped the slaughter of the prisoners, and made it known to all that he had had recourse to the measure only in self-defence. Henry, in order to prevent the recurrence of such a dreadful catastrophe, sent forthwith a herald to those companies of the enemy who were still lingering very suspiciously through the field, and charged them either to come to battle at once, or to withdraw from his sight; adding, that, should they array themselves afterwards to renew the battle, he would show no mercy, nor spare either fighting-men or prisoners.
Of the general accuracy of this statement of the facts little doubt can be entertained, though in the midst of the confusion of such a battle-field it would not be matter of surprise were some of the circumstances mistaken or exaggerated. In reflecting on this course of incidents, the thought forces itself upon our mind, that the mandate was given, not in cool blood, nor when there was time and opportunity for deliberation and for calculating upon the means and chances of safety, but upon the instant, on a sudden unexpected renewal of the engagement from a quarter from which no danger was anticipated; at a moment, too, when, just after the heat of the battle was passing over, the routed enemy were collecting again in great numbers in various parts of the field, with a view evidently of returning to the charge and crushing their conquerors; at a moment, too, when the English were scattered about, separating the living from the dead, and all was yet confusion and uncertainty. Another fact, as clearly and distinctly recorded as the original issuing of the mandate, is, that no sooner was the danger of the immediate and inevitable sacrifice of the lives of his men removed by the retreat of the assailants, than, without waiting for the dispersion of those menacing bodies then congregating around him, Henry instantly countermanded the order, and saved the remainder of the prisoners. The bare facts of the case, from first to last, admit of no other alternative than for our judgment to pronounce it to have been altogether an imperative inevitable act of self-preservation, without the sacrifice of any life, or the suffering of any human being, beyond the absolute and indispensable necessity of the case.
But, perhaps, the most striking and conclusive testimony in vindication of Henry's character on that day of slaughter and victory, is borne both by the silence and also by the expressed sentiments of the contemporary historians. This evidence deserves to be put more prominently forward than it has ever yet been. Indeed, as long as there was no charge of cruelty, or unnecessary violence, brought against his name in this particular, there was little need of alleging any evidence in his defence. It remained for modern writers, after a lapse of centuries, to stigmatize the command as an act of barbarity, and to represent it as having tarnished and stained the victory of him who gave it.[136] It is, however, a most remarkable and satisfactory circumstance that, of the contemporary historians, and those who followed most closely upon them, who have detailed the proceedings with more or less minuteness, and with a great variety though no inconsistency of circumstances, in whose views, moreover, all subsequent writers, with few exceptions, have unreservedly acquiesced, not one single individual is found to cast the slightest imputation on Henry for injustice or cruelty; while some, in their account of the battle, have not made the most distant allusion to the circumstance. All the earlier writers who refer to it appear, with one consent, to have considered the order as the result of dire and unavoidable necessity on the part of the English King. Not only so: whilst no one who witnessed the engagement, or lived at the time, ever threw the shadow of reproach or of complaint on Henry or his army, various writers, especially among the French historians, join in reprobating the unjustifiable conduct of those among the French troops who rendered the massacre inevitable, and cast on their own countrymen the entire responsibility and blame for the whole melancholy affair. Instead of any attempt to sully and tarnish the glory won by the English on that day, by pointing to their cruel and barbarous treatment of unarmed prisoners, they visit their own people with the very strongest terms of malediction, as the sole culpable origin and cause of the evil. And that these were not only the sentiments of the writers themselves, but were participated in by their countrymen at large, is evidenced by the record of a fact which has been generally overlooked. Those who were deemed guilty of thus exposing their countrymen to death, by unjustifiably renewing the attack when the conflict was acknowledged to be over, and after the French soldiery had given up the field, not only were exposed to disgrace in their characters, but suffered punishment also for the offence in their persons. Anticipating censure and severe handling as the consequences of their misconduct, they made valuable presents to such as they thought able to screen them; but so decided was the indignation and resentment of their countrymen, that the leaders of the offending parties were cast into prison, and suffered a long confinement, as the punishment for their misconduct on that day.
The inference, then, which the facts, as they are delivered by English and French writers, compel us to draw, coincides with the professed sentiments of all contemporaries. Those, on the one hand, who shared the glory and were proud of the day of Agincourt, and those, on the other, whose national pride, and wounded honour, and participation in the calamities poured that day upon the noblest families of France, and in the mourning spread far and wide throughout the land, caused them to abhor the very name of Agincourt, all sanction our adoption of that one inference: Henry did not stain his victory by any act of cruelty. His character comes out of the investigation untarnished by a suspicion of his having wantonly shed the blood of a single fellow-creature.
To enable the reader to judge for himself how far the view taken in the text is justified by the evidence, the Author has thought it desirable to cite from different writers, French as well as English, the passages at length in which they describe the transaction.
The Chaplain of Henry V, an eye-witness, who was himself stationed with the baggage, and whose account is contained in the fasciculus known as "MS. Sloane, 1776, p. 67," thus reports the transaction:
"When some of the enemy's foreranks were slain, those behind pressed over the dead, and others again falling on them were immediately put to death; and near Henry's banners so large was the pile of corpses, and of those who were thrown upon them, that the English stood on heaps which exceeded a man's height, and felled their adversaries below with swords and axes. And when, at length, for the space of two or three hours, that powerful body of the first ranks had been broken through and crushed to pieces, and the rest were forced to fly, our men began to move those heaps, and to separate the living from the dead. And behold, suddenly, with what angry dispensation of Providence it is not known, (nescitur in quâ irâ Dei,) a shout is made that the cavalry of the enemy in an overwhelming and fresh body were rallying, and forming themselves to attack our men, few in number, and worn out with fatigue. And the captives, without any respect of persons, (except the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, and certain other illustrious men, and a few besides,) were put the sword, to prevent their becoming our ruin in the approaching struggle. And, after a little while, the enemy, (by the Almighty's will,) having tasted the sharpness of our arrows, and seeing that our King was approaching them, left us a field of blood, with chariots and many other carriages filled with provisions and weapons, lances and bows."
Jean Le Fevre, Seigneur de St. Remy, who was also an eye-witness, being present in the English camp, records the event, and his own opinion of it, thus:
"Then there befel them a very great misfortune; for a large body of the rear-guard, in which were many French, Bretons, Gascons, and others, who had betaken themselves to flight, and had with them a large number of standards and flags, showed signs of an intention to fight, and were marching in order. When the English perceived them thus congregated, orders were given by the King of England for every one to slay his prisoners; but those who had taken them were unwilling to put them to death, because they had taken those only who could give a high ransom. On the King being apprised that they would not kill their prisoners, he gave in charge to a gentleman with two hundred archers to put them all to death. The order of the King was obeyed by this esquire, which was a lamentable affair; for all that body of French nobility were in cold blood cut and hewed, head and face,—a wonderful thing to see. That accursed band of Frenchmen, who thus caused that noble chivalry to be murdered, when they saw that the English were ready to receive them and give them battle, betook themselves to flight suddenly; and those who could, saved themselves; and the greater part of those who were on horseback saved themselves, but of them who were on foot the greater part were put to death."