THE CHARGES AGAINST PRINCE HENRY
The appointment of the Prince in February 1408–9 to the office of
Constable of Dover and Keeper of the Cinque Ports has already been
mentioned. A little more than a year afterwards--that is, on March
18th, 1409–10--the King, having the “fullest confidence in the
circumspection and fidelity of his most dear son, Henry, Prince of
Wales,” appointed him for the space of twelve years Captain of the town
of Calais. Thenceforward his time was divided between his duties at
these places and in London, where he is found in frequent attendance
at Councils. In the Acts of the Privy Council and other records there
is preserved a continuous history of his public life. The details are
of little or no importance; but the impression left by the whole is
that the Prince was taking a leading part in the administration of
affairs, foreign and domestic. The theory of the Constitution, as it
is now understood and carried into practice, excludes the possibility
of any such action on the part of the heir-apparent to the throne.
The system on which the machine is worked is a government by party,
and from party it is held to be necessary that he should stand aloof.
The Sovereign, though the powers assigned to him by the Constitution
have virtually fallen into abeyance, still has a very considerable
share in the management of affairs; but the functions of the Prince
of Wales are purely social. Things were very different in the days of
personal government. The King’s Ministers were not the representatives
of the majority in Parliament, but friends and counsellors of his
own choice, often, of course, his own kinsmen. Edward the First had
been the support of his feeble father, and the Third Edward had had
an able lieutenant in the Black Prince. All that is recorded in
authentic documents about Prince Henry tends to make us believe that
his behaviour as successor to the crown resembled that of those great
predecessors in his place. There is nothing, on the other hand, to
suggest a comparison with the dissolute heir of the first Edward, whose
frivolous conduct and unseemly intimacies have nevertheless, by some
strange caprice of tradition, been transferred to our hero.
It will be sufficient to give a few only of the many occasions on which
the Prince’s name is mentioned. It will be seen that they indicate,
more or less plainly, the confidence and affection existing between him
and his father.
To be in command both at Dover and Calais, while still retaining the
lieutenantship of Wales, was manifestly to be in a position of great
trust. Not less significant in another way was his appointment (dated
February 1st, 1408–9) as guardian of the young Earl of March and his
brother, two most important persons as representing a rival claim to
the throne. The general opinion of his character may be indicated by
the fact that when, in compliance with a request from the Commons,
the Lords before appointed to be of the King’s Council were again
declared, all of them took the oath to do justice excepting the Prince
of Wales, who for his rank was excused that ceremony.
In the course of the year 1411 we find grants of money made to the
Prince for operations to be carried on at Calais and for the defence
of Wales. In the October of that year the King makes him a present of
twenty hogsheads of red wine from Gascony. It should be mentioned that
in the previous year he had received from the King a grant for life of
the palace of Coldharbour, in the parish of Hayes in Middlesex.
On November 2nd in this year Parliament met and sat for six weeks. In
the course of the session the Speaker, in the name of the Commons,
prayed the King to thank the Prince and the other Lords of the Council
for their great labour and diligence, and declared the opinion of
the House that the said Lords had done their duty, according to
their promise, well and loyally. The Prince and his colleagues were
present, and kneeling declared by the mouth of the Prince that they had
endeavoured so to act. Thereupon the King thanked them. On the last
day of the Parliament the Speaker recommended the Queen, the Prince,
and the King’s younger son to the King, and asked for the advancement
of their estates. To this recommendation the King returned the usual
gracious answer.
There is nothing particularly remarkable in these proceedings; but they
indicate the existence of harmony and good feeling between the King,
his heir, and the House of Commons, and there is certainly nothing to
support the allegations that have now to be considered.
In a chronicle the date of which cannot be fixed, but which was
certainly not contemporary with the events which it professes to
narrate, it is stated that in the Parliament of 1411 the Prince desired
of the King that he should resign the kingdom, as being incapable by
reason of ill-health of performing its duties, that the King refused to
do so, and that thereupon the Prince and his counsellors withdrew from
the Parliament.
In another chronicle, also of uncertain date, written by a monk of the
Abbey of Malmsbury, it is stated that in the thirteenth year of King
Henry the Fourth “a convention was made between Henry Beaufort, Bishop
of Winchester, and almost all the Lords that one of them should speak
to the King, desiring that he should resign the crown and permit his
eldest son to be crowned, seeing that he was so horribly afflicted by
leprosy; and that this being told to the King, he, being unwilling so
to resign his crown, by the advice of some of his Lords rode through a
great part of England, notwithstanding the said leprosy.”
All the historical confirmation of this allegation that exists lies
in the fact that sixteen years afterwards the Bishop, being on his
trial for high treason, was accused of having stirred up the King,
when Prince of Wales, to endeavour to bring about the resignation of
his father. No evidence was offered in support of the charge, and the
Bishop was acquitted. This acquittal is not a conclusive proof of the
prelate’s innocence, for the trial was a political move on the part of
the faction opposed to him, and the result would naturally follow the
event of the struggle. The charge must have represented some kind of
popular belief. It is probable, or at least not impossible, that at
some time during these two years of Henry the Fourth’s life there was a
feeling that the functions of government were not efficiently performed
by him, and that they might with advantage be handed over to his heir.
The Prince may have shared this feeling, but there is nothing to prove
that he did. In the absence of all evidence we may conclude that he did
not show it by any overt act.
One part of the story is indeed conclusively disproved by testimony
that cannot be gainsaid. The King did not ride over a great part of
England to show his people that he was not disabled by the leprosy. We
know that on June 12th, 1411, he was at the Abbey of Stratford, that he
returned thence to his palace at Westminster on that day, and that he
was never afterwards absent for a whole day from that residence.
In a proclamation dated February 3rd, 1411–12, the King addresses his
heir as “his most dear son, Henry, Prince of Wales.” The language is
formal; but, so far as it goes, it indicates continued confidence and
affection on the part of the King. This, it will be observed, was a
few weeks after the session of Parliament in which, as is alleged, the
Prince endeavoured to oust his father from power.
One piece of contemporary evidence, however, must not be neglected.
Monstrelet writes thus (i. 101):
“He (Henry IV) was so sorely oppressed at the latter end of his
sickness, that those who attended him, not perceiving him to
breathe, concluded that he was dead, and covered his face with a
cloth. It was the custom in that country, whenever the King was
ill, to place the royal crown on a cushion beside his bed, and for
his successor to take it at his death. The Prince of Wales, being
informed by the attendants that his father was dead, had carried
away the crown; but, shortly after, the King uttered a groan,
and his face was uncovered, when, on looking for the crown, he
asked what had become of it? His attendants replied that ‘my lord
the Prince had taken it away.’ He bade them send for the Prince,
and, at his entrance, the King asked him why he had carried away
the crown. ‘My lord,’ answered the Prince, ‘your attendants here
present affirmed to me that you were dead; and as your crown and
kingdom belong to me as your eldest son, after your decease, I
had taken it away.’ The King gave a deep sigh, and said, ‘My fair
son, what right have you to it? for you well know I had none.’ ‘My
lord,’ replied the Prince, ‘as you have held it by the right of
your sword, it is my intent to hold and defend it the same during
my life,’ The King answered, ‘Well, act as you see best; I leave
all things to God, and pray that He will have mercy on me.’”
Shakespeare has used the story for the scene with which every one is
familiar; but he has used it in a different sense from that in which
it is told. The dramatist’s purpose was to heighten the contrast
between the Prince, reckless, selfish, greedy of power, and the King,
changed by his elevation into a model of wisdom, thoughtfulness, and
moderation. The chronicler, who is manifestly a Yorkist partisan,
introduces it to enforce the dying King’s supposed confession of his
wrongful tenure of the crown. There is no hint of the father charging
the son with a greedy grasping at power. Dr. Lingard seems right in
suggesting that the story was a fiction of the partisans of the Earl of
March. It has a very improbable look, and is supported by nothing that
we know of the manner of the King’s death.
There remains, however, a certain residuum of evidence which makes
it not altogether improbable that during the last year of Henry the
Fourth’s life there was some disturbance of the harmony between him
and his eldest son.
Thomas Hardyng wrote in 1465 a metrical life of Henry the Fifth, which
is known as _Versus Rhythmici in laudem Henrici Quinti_. In this we
find the following lines:
“The King discharged the Prince from his counsail,
And set my lord Sir Thomas in his stead,
Chief of the council for the King’s more avail;
For which the Prince, of wrath and wilful head,
Again him made debate and froward tread,
With whom the King took part and held the field,
To time the Prince unto the King him yield.”
Hardyng was born in 1378, and he must therefore have been in very
advanced age when he wrote his _Versus Rhythmici_. More than half a
century, too, had passed since the time of which he was writing. These
considerations, however, scarcely impair the value of his testimony.
The memory of an old man is commonly tenacious of things that belong
to his early life; nor can we, on the other hand, find a probable
origin for so circumstantial a story in the fancies of dotage. There is
possibly more weight in the argument that there is no mention of any
such occurrence in the chronicle which Hardyng wrote some thirty years
before the composition of his _Versus Rhythmici_. But the chronicle was
written while the house of Lancaster was still in undisputed possession
of the throne, and, being doubtless intended for the perusal of Henry
the Sixth, who must have been about attaining his majority when it was
finished; it is quite possible that the writer may have suppressed the
mention of a family quarrel. But in later times he attached himself to
the house of York, and his chronicle is supposed to have been rewritten
at the instance of Richard, Duke of York, killed at Wakefield. In
1465 Edward the Fourth was, to all appearance, firmly seated on the
throne. Praises of a great national hero, such as was Henry the Fifth,
would not be unwelcome; but there would be no motive for tenderness
in writing the family history. It must be allowed that, on the whole,
Hardyng’s testimony has a certain weight.
Then comes the question--Is it confirmed by any other evidence?
There is an entry in the Pell Rolls, under the date February 18th,
1411–12, which records the payment to the Prince of a thousand marks
in consideration of the labours, costs, and charges sustained by him
“quo tempore fuit de consilio ipsius Domini Regis.” The words may mean,
according to the sense which we may put on _fuit_, “for the time during
which he _has been_ of the King’s Council” or “for the time during
which _he was_,” etc. It has been argued that if the latter sense had
been intended _erat_ would have been used instead of _fuit_. It may be
allowed that the signification of _erat_ would not have been ambiguous.
It would have meant that he was at some former time and was not at the
time of writing. But _fuit_ may mean the same. It is often used as
a most emphatic præterite, as in the famous “_fuimus_ Troes, _fuit_
Ilium.” The Prince, too, it must be remembered, had been a member
of the Council at this time for more than eleven years. If he still
retained his seat in it, it is somewhat strange that now for the first
time the payment of compensation for his expenses and service appears.
The first impression left by the entry certainly is that the thousand
marks were a _solacium_ paid to him on ceasing to belong to it.[3]
A noticeable omission occurs in a writ issued on June 11th, 1412--that
is, about four months after the entry just discussed. The Prince is
described, without any affectionate or complimentary epithet, as the
“Captain of Calais.” It is possible that this omission may have been
unintentional: there are instances in which it occurs where it is
impossible to suppose that any kind of displeasure or angry feeling is
implied; and we certainly find an entry of May 1st in the same year in
which the usual terms of affection are employed.
If the Prince was removed from the Council or retired from it
voluntarily, his absence cannot have lasted long. His supposed
successor or substitute, Thomas, Duke of Clarence, left England to
take the command of the English forces in Aquitaine in July 1412, nor
did he return to this country till after his father’s death. It is
noticeable that there is no trace of the resentment which an elder
brother unjustly dispossessed might be supposed to feel for him who
had supplanted him. Henry, when he became king, retained the Duke of
Clarence in his command. In July a Council was held at which the means
of raising money for the expenses of the King, and for a force which
was apparently about to be got together to serve under the Prince,
were discussed. In the September of the same year the Prince, if we
may trust the author of the _Chronicle of London_, actually attended
a Council. Whether this be the case or no, it is certain that about
this time we find the Council deliberating about matters which closely
concerned the Prince’s character, and coming to a conclusion highly
favourable to him. He had been accused, it would seem, of keeping back
moneys that he had received for the payment of his soldiers. He had
now sent in two rolls of paper, giving particulars of his expenditure,
and the Council accordingly directed the issue of letters under the
Privy Seal which should set forth the true state of the case. A further
order was made at the same sitting of the Council for the payment
of a considerable sum of money on account of the wages of certain
men-at-arms who were stationed under the Prince’s command in Wales.
Very similar entries, which it is needless to give, are found under
date October 21st.
If, then, there was any disagreement between the King and his eldest
son, it must probably be referred to the earlier part of 1412. It is
easy to make conjectures about the cause, for indeed several causes are
possible or even probable, but difficult to find reasons for preferring
one conjecture to another. There may have been the ordinary jealousy
that is found so often between the possessor and the heir of power.
The elder Henry’s capacity may have begun to fail him, as his health
certainly failed, during the last years of his life. Dissatisfaction on
the side of the vigorous successor to the throne and suspicion on that
of its enfeebled holder would naturally follow. And the young Henry may
well have felt some personal annoyance at the tortuous policy which his
father persisted in following in French affairs. The King made a treaty
with the King of France in December 1410. No sooner was it proclaimed
than in the following March he began to negotiate with the Duke of
Burgundy, and concluded a truce with him in May. In the following year
an alliance, offensive and defensive, was made with the French Princes
who were acting on behalf of the then disabled King; and again, a month
after this, another treaty was concluded with the Duke of Burgundy.
The affairs of the Prince himself were one of the subjects dealt with
in these negotiations. Henry the Fourth was eager in the extreme to
strengthen his position by a matrimonial alliance with a royal family
of undoubted title. It was now a daughter of the French King, and now a
daughter of the Duke of Burgundy, who seemed to him a desirable bride
for the heir to his crown; and it is just possible that the young man,
who was quite capable of being resolute in such matters, did not wholly
approve of the diplomacy by which his father sought to dispose of him
in marriage.
It is possible that a curious story, previously referred to as bearing
on the question of Henry’s possible residence at Oxford, may belong to
this time of estrangement. It was on a New Year’s Day--the New Year’s
Day of 1411–12, if this conjecture be correct--that the Prince, finding
that his enemies had slandered him to his father, came to Westminster
Hall. Dressed, according to one version, in his old student’s gown,
with the needle and thread, still yearly presented to the members of
Eglesfield’s foundation, stuck in its collar, he advanced, leaving his
attendants clustered round the coal fire in the middle of the hall,
to the upper end where the King sat with his immediate attendants.
Saluting his father he begged for a private audience, and the King,
who was unable to walk, was carried into another room. Then the Prince
fell on his knees, and drawing his dagger from its sheath presented it
to his father, and begged him to plunge it into his heart if he thought
that there could be found there any feelings but those of affection and
loyalty. The chronicler Otterbourne tells a somewhat similar story, but
refers it to the June of this same year.
Another charge that has been brought against Henry may be traced in
the first place to John Stow, whose _Summary of the Chronicles of
England_ was published in 1570, and through him to Robert Fabyan, whose
_Chronicle_ was probably written early in the sixteenth century. Stow
writes:
“He (the Prince) lived somewhat insolently, insomuch that while
his father lived, being accompanied with some of his young lords
and gentlemen, he would wait in disguised array for his own
receivers and distress them of their money, and sometimes at such
enterprises both he and his companions were sorely beaten; and when
his receivers made to him their complaints how they were robbed in
their coming to him, he would give them their discharge of so much
money as they had lost, and besides that they should not depart
from him without great rewards for their trouble and vexation,
especially they should be rewarded that best had resisted him and
his company, and of whom he had received the greatest and most
strokes.”
Of Fabyan it is only necessary to say that he does not give any such
details, but says generally that the “King, before the death of his
father, applied himself unto all vice and insolency, and drew unto
him violent and wildly-disposed persons.” Stow, therefore, it will
be seen, improved upon Fabyan. Recent writers have improved upon Stow
by finding a cause for these lawless proceedings in Henry’s grinding
poverty. Poverty was doubtless the prevailing condition of both
father and son; but the King was as liberal to his heir as his means
permitted. The Prince had often, it is clear, money enough to advance
his soldiers’ pay, for we hear of sums repaid him on this account. The
story may be dismissed as a fable, or, if it has any foundation at all,
as the exaggerated report of a youthful freak.
A still more baseless invention is that the Prince and his wild
companions indulged in various extravagant doings at his manor of
Cheylesmore, near Coventry, and that on one occasion he and they were
taken into custody by the Mayor of Coventry. The legend cannot, it
seems, be traced beyond the latter part of the seventeenth century.
The other charges against Henry’s character may be more conveniently
considered in the next chapter.