Page 13 of The White Rose of Langley

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  THE GARDEN OF GOD.

  I'm kneeling at the threshold, aweary, faint, and sore; I'm waiting for the dawning, for the opening of the door; I'm waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and come To the glory of His presence, the gladness of His home.

  A weary path I've travelled, mid darkness, storm, and strife, Bearing many a burden, contending for my life; But now the morn is breaking,--my toil will soon be o'er; I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is at the door.

  O Lord, I wait Thy pleasure! Thy time and way are best: But I'm wasted, worn, and weary:--my Father, bid me rest!

  _Dr Alexander_.

  The full glory of summer had come at last. Over Southampton Water brokea cloudless August day. The musical cries of the sailors who were atwork on the Saint Mary, the James, and the Catherine, in the offing--preparing for the King's voyage to France--came pleasantly from thedistance. From the country farms, girls with baskets poised on theirheads, filled with market produce, came into the crowded sea-port town,where the whole Court awaited a fair wind. There was no wind from anyquarter that day. Earth and sea and sky presented a dead calm: and theonly place which was not calm was the heart of fallen man. For a fewsteps from the busy gates and the crowded market is Southampton Green,and there, draped in mourning, stands the scaffold, and beside it thestate headsman.

  All the Court are gathered here. It is a break in the monotony ofexistence--the tiresome dead level of waiting for the wind to change.

  The first victim is brought out. Trembling and timidly he comes--HenryLe Scrope of Upsal, the luckless husband of the Duchess Dowager of York,Treasurer of the Household, only a few days since in the highest favour.He was arrested, tried, and sentenced in twenty-four hours, just a weekbefore. No voice pleads for poor Scrope,--a simple, single-minded man,who never made an enemy till now. He dies to-day--"on suspicion ofbeing suspected" of high treason.

  The block and the axe are wiped clean of Scrope's blood, and theheadsman stands waiting for the Sheriff to bring the second victim.

  He comes forward calmly, with quiet dignity; a stately, fair-hairedman,--ready to die, because ready to meet God. And we know the face ofRichard of Conisborough, the finest and purest character of the royalline, the fairest bud of the White Rose. He has little wish to livelonger. Life was stripped of its flowers for him four years ago, whenhe heard the earth cast on the coffin of his pale desert flower. She isin Heaven; and Christ is in Heaven; and Heaven is better than earth. Sowhat matter, though the passage be low and dark which leads up to thegate of the Garden of God? Yet this is no easy nor honourable death todie. No easy death to a man of high sense of chivalrous honour; nolight burden, thus to be led forth before the multitude, to a death ofshame,--on his part undeserved. Perhaps men will know some day howlittle he deserved it. At any rate, God knows. And whatever shamefulend be decreed for the servant, it can never surpass that of the Master.The utmost that any child of God can suffer for Christ, can never equalwhat Christ has suffered for him.

  And so, calm in mien, willing in heart, Richard of Conisborough wentthrough the dark passage, to the Garden of God. But if ever a judicialmurder were committed in this world, it was done that day on SouthamptonGreen, when the blood of the Lollard Prince dyed the dust of thescaffold.

  The accusation brought against the victims was high treason. Theindictment bore falsehood on its face by going too far. It asserted,not only that they had conspired to raise March to the throne--whichmight perhaps have been believed; but also that they had plotted theassassination of King Henry--which no one who knew them could believe;that March, taken into their counsels, had asked for an hour to considerthe matter, and had then gone straight to the King and revealed theplot--which no one who knew March could believe. The whole accusationwas a tissue of improbabilities and inconsistencies. No evidence wasoffered; the conclusion was foregone from the beginning. So they diedon Southampton Green.

  Perhaps Henry's heart failed him at the last moment. For some reason,Richard of Conisborough was spared the last and worst ignominy of atraitor's death--the exposure of the severed head on some city gate.Henry allowed his remains to receive quiet and honourable burial.

  The next day a decree was passed, pardoning March for all crimes andoffences. The only offence which he had ever committed against theHouse of Lancaster was his own existence; and for that he could scarcelybe held responsible, either in law or equity. But can we say as muchfor the offence against God and man which he committed on that sixth ofAugust, when he suffered himself to be dragged to the judge's bench, onwhich he sat with others to condemn the husband of that sister Anne whohad been his all but mother?

  We shall see no more of Edmund Mortimer. He ended life as he began it--as much like a vegetable as a human being could well make himself. FewMortimers attained old age, nor did he. He died in his thirty-fourthyear, issueless and unwept; and Richard Duke of York, the son of AnneMortimer and Richard of Conisborough, succeeded to the White Rose's"heritage of woe."

  A week after the execution, the King sailed for Harfleur.

  The campaign was short, for those days of long campaigns; but pestilenceraged among the troops, and cut off some of the finest men. The Earl ofSuffolk died before they left Harfleur, and ere they reached Picardy,the Earl of Arundel. But the King pressed onward, till on the night ofthe 24th of October, he encamped, ready to give battle, near the littlevillage of Azincour, to be thenceforward for ever famous, under itsEnglish name of Agincourt.

  The army was in a very sober mood. The night was spent quietly, by themore careless in sleep, by the more thoughtful in prayer. The Duke ofYork was among the former; the King among the latter. Henry is said tohave wrestled earnestly with God that no sins of his might be rememberedagainst him, to lead to the discomfiture of his army. There was needfor the entreaty. Perchance, had he slept that night, some such ghostlyvisions, born of his own conscience, might have disturbed his sleep, asthose which troubled one of his successors on the eve of Bosworth Field.

  When morning came, and the King was at breakfast with his brother PrinceHumphrey, the Duke of York presented himself with a request that hemight be permitted to lead the vanguard.

  Humphrey, who was of a sarcastic turn of mind, amused himself by a fewjokes on the obesity of the royal applicant; but the request wasgranted, and York rode off well pleased.

  "Stand thou at my stirrup, Calverley," said York to his squire. "I castno doubt thou wilt win this day thy spurs; and for me, I look to comeoff covered with glory."

  "How many yards of glory shall it take to cover his Grace?" whisperedone of the irreverent varlets behind them.

  "Howsoe'er, little matter," pursued the Duke. "I can scantly go higherthan I am: wherefore howso I leave the field, little reck I."

  Hugh Calverley looked up earnestly at his master.

  "Sir Duke," he said, "hath it come into your Grace's mind that no lessyourself than your servants may leave this field dead corpses?"

  "Tut, man! croak not," said York. "I have no intent to leave it otherthan alive--thou canst do as it list thee."

  Two months had elapsed since that August evening when, terrified by hisbrother's sudden and violent death, Edward Duke of York had dictated hiswill in terms of such abject penitence. The effect of that terror waswearing away. The unseen world, which had come very near, receded intothe far distance; and the visible world returned to its usualprominence. And York's aim had always been, not "so to pass throughthings temporal that he lost not the things eternal," but so to passtowards things eternal that he lost not the things temporal. His ownchoice proved his heaviest punishment: "for he in his life-time receivedhis good things."

  It was a terrible battle which that day witnessed at Agincourt. In onequarter of the field Prince Humphrey lay half dead upon the sward; whenthe King, riding up and recognising his brother, sprang from his saddle,took his stand over the prostrate body, and waving his good battle-axein his strong f
irm hand, kept the enemy at bay, and saved his brother'slife. In another direction, a sudden charge of the French pressed alittle band of English officers and men close together, till not one inthe inner ranks could move hand or foot--crushed them closer, closer, asif the object had been to compress them into a consolidated mass. Atlast help came, the French were beaten off, and the living wall was freeto separate into its component atoms of human bodies. But as it did so,from the interior of the mass one man fell to the ground, dead. No oneneeded to ask who it was. The royal fleurs-de-lis and lions on thesurcoat, with an escocheon of pretence bearing the arms of Leon andCastilla--the princely coronet surrounding the helmet--were enough totell the tale. Other men might come alive out of the fight ofAgincourt, but Edward Duke of York would only leave it a corpse.

  He stands on the page of history, a beacon for all time. No man livingin his day better knew the way of righteousness; no man living took lesscare to walk in it. During the later years of his life, it seemed as ifthat dread Divine decree might have gone forth, most awful even ofDivine decrees--"Let him alone." He had refused to be troubled withGod, and the penalty was that God would not be troubled with him: Hewould not force His salvation on this unwilling soul. And now, when"behind, he heard Time's iron gates close faintly," it was too late forrenewing to repentance. He that was unholy must be unholy still.Verily, he had his reward.

  The end of the struggle was now approaching. On every side the Frenchwere hemmed in and beaten down. Prince Humphrey had been earned to theroyal tent, but the King was still in the field--here, there, andeverywhere, as nearly ubiquitous as a man could be--riding from point topoint, and now and then engaging in single-handed skirmish. A Frencharcher, waiting for an opportunity to distinguish himself, levelled hiscrossbow at the royal warrior, while he remained for a momentstationary. In another second the victory of Agincourt would have beenturned into a defeat, and probably a panic. But at the critical instanta squire flung himself before the King, and received the shaft intendedfor his Sovereign. He fell, but uttered no word.

  "Truly, a gallant deed, Master Squire!" cried Henry. "Whatso be yourname, rise a knight banneret."

  "The squire will arise no more, Sire," said the voice of the Earl ofHuntingdon behind him. "Your Highness' grace hath come too late; he isdead."

  "In good sooth, I am sorry therefor," returned the King. "Never saw Ibraver deed, ne better done. Well! if he leave son or widow, they mayreceive our grace in his guerdon. Who is he? Ho, archer! thou bearestour cousin of York his livery, and so doth this squire. Win hither--unlace his helm, and give us to wit if thou know him."

  And when the helm was unlaced, and the archer had recognised the deadface, they knew that the Lollard squire, Hugh Calverley, had saved thelife of the persecutor at the cost of his own.

  He had spoken the simple truth. He could not fight, but he could die.He could not write his name upon the world's roll of glory, but he coulddo God's will.

  The public opinion of earth accounts this a mean and unworthy object.The public opinion of Heaven is probably of a different character.

  Nothing was to be done for widow or child, for Hugh Calverley leftneither. He was no ascetic; he was merely a man who thought first ofhow he might please the Lord, and who felt himself least fettered bysingle life. So there was no love in his heart but the love of Christ,and nothing on earth that he desired in comparison of Him.

  And on earth he had no guerdon. Even the royal words of praise he didnot live to hear. But on the other side of the dark river passed soquickly, there were the garland of honour, and the palm of victory, andthe King's "Well done, good and faithful servant!" Verily, also, he hadhis reward.

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  The autumn was passing into winter before the news reached Constanceeither of the battle of Agincourt or of the murder on Southampton Green.At first she was utterly crushed and prostrated. The old legal leaven,so hard to work out of the human conscience, wrought upon her withtenfold force, and she declared that God was against her, and waswreaking His wrath upon her for the lie which she had told in denyingthe validity of her marriage. Was it not evidently so? she asked. HadHe not first bereft her of her darling, the precious boy whom her sinhad preserved to her? And now not only Edward, but the favouritebrother, Dickon, were gone likewise. Herself, her stepmother, herwidowed sisters-in-law [Note 1], and the two little children of Richard,were alone left of the House of York. The news of Edward's death shebore with comparative equanimity: it was the sudden and dreadful end ofRichard which so completely overpowered her.

  "Hold thy peace, Maude!" she said mournfully, in answer to Maude'stender efforts to console her. "God is against me and all mine House.We have sinned; or rather, _I_ have sinned,--and have thus brought downsorrow and mourning upon the hearts that were dearest to me. I owe adebt; and it must needs be paid, even to the uttermost farthing."

  "But, dear my Lady," urged Maude, not holding her peace asrequested,--"what do you, to pay so much as one farthing of that debt?Christ our Lord hath taken the same upon Him. A debt cannot be twicepaid."

  "I do verily trust," she said humbly, "that He hath paid for me the debteternal; yet is there a debt earthly, and this is for my paying."

  "Never a whit!" cried Maude earnestly. "Dear my Lady, not one cross[farthing] thereof! That which we suffer at the hand of our Father isnot debt, but discipline; the chastising of the son, not the work wrungby lash from the slave. `The children are free.'"

  "Ay, free from the curse and the second death," she said, stilldespondingly; "but from pains and penalties of sin in this life, Maude,not freed. An' I cut mine hand with yonder knife, God shall not healthe wound by miracle because I am His child."

  Maude felt that the illustration was true, but she was not sure that itwas apposite, neither was she convinced that her own view was mistaken.She glanced at Sir Ademar de Milford, who sat on the settle, studyingthe works of Saint Augustine, as if to ask him to answer for her.Ademar was no longer the family confessor, for the family had given overconfessing; but Archbishop Chichele, professing himself satisfied of hisorthodoxy, had revoked the now useless writ of excommunication, and thepriest had resumed his duties as chaplain. Ademar laid down his book inanswer to the appealing glance from Maude's eyes.

  "Lady," he said, "how much, I pray you, is owing to your Grace from theyoung ladies your daughters, for food and lodging?"

  "Owing from my little maids!" exclaimed Constance.

  "That is it which I would know," replied Ademar gravely.

  "From my little maids!" she repeated in astonishment.

  "It is written, Madam, in His book, that as one whom his mothercomforteth, He comforteth us. Wherefore, seeing that the comfort yourGrace looketh for at His hands is to have you afore the reeve forpayment of your debts, it setteth me to think that you shall needs useyour children likewise."

  "Never!" cried Constance emphatically. "And so say I, Lady," returnedAdemar significantly. "But, Sir Ademar, God doth chastise Hischildren!"

  "Truly so, Madam, as you yours. But I marvel which is the moresufferer--yourself or the child."

  He spoke pointedly, for only the day before Isabel had chosen to be verynaughty, and had imperatively required correction, which he knew hadcost far more to Constance to administer than to her refractory child toreceive.

  "Then, Sir Ademar, you do think He suffereth when He chastiseth us?" sheasked, her voice faltering a little. "I cannot think, Dame, that Heloveth the rod. Only He loveth too well the child to leave himuncorrected."

  "O, Sir Ademar!" she cried suddenly--"I do trust He shall not find needto try me yet again through these childre! I am so feared I should failand fall. Ah me! weak and wretched woman that I am,--I could not bearto see these two forced from me! God help and pardon me; but me fearethif it should come to this yet again, I would do anything to keep them!"

  "The Lord can heal the waters, Lady, ere He fetch you to dri
nk them."

  "He did not this draught aforetime," she said sadly.

  "Maybe," replied Ademar, "because He saw that your Ladyship's disorderneeded a bitter medicine."

  There was a respite for just one year. But ever after the news of herbrother Richard's death, Constance drooped and pined; and when the freshstorm broke, it found her an invalid almost confined to her bed. Itbegan with a strong manifesto from Archbishop Chichele against theLollards. Then came a harshly-worded order for all landed proprietorsin the Marches of South Wales to reside on their estates and "keep offthe rebels." One of these was specially directed to Constance LeDespenser.

  But who were the rebels? Owain Glyndwr had died twelve months before.It could not mean him; and there was only one person whom it could mean.It meant Lord Cobham, still in hiding, whom Lord Powys was in the fieldto capture, and on whose head a rich reward was set. The authoritieswere trembling in fear of a second outbreak under his guidance. Bertramgave the missive to Maude, who carried it to Constance. Disobediencewas to be visited by penalty; and how it was likely to be punished inher case, Constance knew only too well. She received it with a moan ofanguish.

  "My little maids! my little, little maids!"

  She said no more: she only grew worse and weaker.

  Then Lord Powys, in search for the "rebels," marched up and demandedaid. He was answered by silence: and he marched on and away, helped byno hand or voice in Cardiff Castle.

  "I must give them up!" Constance whispered to Maude, in accents sohopelessly mournful that it wrung her tender heart to hear them. "Icannot give Him up!"

  For just then, in the eyes of every Lollard, to follow Lord Cobham wasequivalent to following Christ.

  Weaker and weaker she grew now; always confined to bed; worse from dayto day.

  And at last, on the 28th of November, 1416, the ominous horn soundedwithout the moat, and the Sheriff of the county, armed with all thepower of the law, entered the Castle of Cardiff, to call the Lady LeDespenser to account for her repeated and contumacious neglect of theroyal command.

  "Lady mine," said Maude, tenderly, kneeling by her, "the Sheriff ishere."

  "It is come, then!" replied Constance very quietly. "Bring my littlemaids to me. Let me kiss them once more ere they tear them away fromme. God help me to bear the rest!"

  She kissed them both, and blessed them fervently, bidding them "be goodmaids and serve God." Then she lay back again in the bed, and softlyturned her face to the wall so that the intruders would not see it.

  "The Sheriff may enter in," she said in a low voice. "Lord, I have leftall, and have followed Thee!"

  Does it seem a small matter for which to sacrifice all? The balances ofthe Sanctuary are not used with weights of earth.

  The Sheriff came in. Maude stood up boldly, indignantly, and demandedto know wherefore he had come. The answer was what she expected.

  "To seize the persons of the Lady Le Despenser and her daughters,accused of disobedience to the law, and perverse contumacy, in that shedid deny to aid with money and men the search for one John Oldcastle, aprison-breaker convict of heresy and sedition."

  "Is he taken?" said Bertram almost involuntarily.

  "Nay, not so yet; but the good Lord Powys is now a-hunting after him.He that shall take him shall net a thousand marks thereby, and twentymarks by the year further."

  Maude drew a long sigh.

  "Much good do they him!" exclaimed Bertram ironically.

  Maude went back to the bed and spoke to her mistress.

  "Lady, heard you what he said?"

  There was no answer, and Maude spoke again. Still the silence wasunbroken. She touched the shoulder, and yet no response.

  "An' it like you, Madam, you must arise and come with me," said theSheriff bluntly, as Maude bent over the sufferer. Then, with a lowmoan, she sank on her knees by the bedside, and a cry which was not allbitterness broke from her.

  "`And thus hath Christ unwemmed kept Custance'!"

  "What matter, wife?" said Bertram in a tone of sudden apprehension.

  "No matter any more!" replied Maude, lifting her white face. "MasterSheriff, she was dying ere you came to prison her,--on a sendel thread[a linen cloth of the finest quality] hung her life: but ere you touchedher, God snapped yon thread, and set her free."

  Ay, what matter?--though they seized on the poor relic of mortalitywhich had once been Constance Le Despenser?--though the mean vengeancewas taken of leaving her coffin unburied for four dreary years? "Afterthat, they had no more that they could do." It was only the witheredleaves that were left in their hands; the White Rose was free.

  "What shall become of the young ladies, Master Sheriff?"

  "Nay," growled the surly official, "the hen being departed, I lacknought of the chicks. They may go whither it list them; only thisCastle and all therein is confiscate."

  Maude turned to Isabel, now a tall statuesque maiden of sixteen years.

  "I shall send to my Lord, of force," she answered coldly, "and desirethat he come and fetch me hence."

  "And your sister, the Lady Alianora?"

  The child was kneeling by the side of her dead mother, wrapped inunutterable grief. Isabel cast a contemptuous glance upon her.

  "No sister of mine!" she said in the same tone. "I cannot be burdenedwith nameless childre."

  For an instant Maude's indignation rose above both her discretion andher sorrow. She cried--"Girl, God pardon you those cruel words!"--butthen with a strong effort she bridled her tongue, and sitting down bythe bed, drew the sobbing child's head upon her bosom.

  "My poor homeless darling! doth none want thee, my dove?--not even thineown mother's daughter?--Bertram, good husband, thou wilt not let[hinder] me?--Sweet, come then with us, and be our daughter--to whombeside thee God hath given none. Meseemeth as though He now saith,`Take this child and nurse it for Me.' Lord, so be it!"

  At the end of those four years, men's revenge was satiated, andpermission was given for the funeral of the unburied coffin. But theylaid her, as they had laid her son, far from the scene of her home, andfrom the graves of her beloved. The long unused royal vault in theBenedictine Abbey of Reading, in which the latest burial had taken placenearly two hundred years before, was opened to receive its last tenant.There she sleeps calmly, waiting for the resurrection morning.

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  Three historical tableaux will complete the story.

  First, a quiet little village home, where a knight and his wife arecalmly passing the later half of life. The knight was rendered uselessfor battle some years ago by a severe wound, resulting in permanentlameness. In the chimney-corner, distaff in hand, sits the dame,--asmall, slight woman, with gentle dark eyes, and a meek, lovingexpression, which will make her face lovely to the close of life.Opposite to her, occupied with another distaff, is a tall, fair, queenlygirl, who can surely be no daughter of the dame. By the knight's chair,in hunting costume, stands a young man with a very open, pleasantcountenance, who is evidently pleading for some favour which the knightand dame are a little reluctant to grant.

  "Sir Bertram, not one word would she hear me, but bade me betake medirectly unto yourself. So here behold me to beseech your gentleness infavour of my suit."

  "Lord de Audley," said the knight, quietly, "this is not the first timeby many that I have heard of your name, neither of your goodness. Youseek to wed my daughter. But I would have you well aware that she hathno portion: and what, I pray you, shall all your friends and lovers sayunto your wedding of a poor knight's portionless daughter?"

  "Say! Let them say as they list!" cried the young man. "For portion, Ido account Mistress Nell portion and lineage in herself. And they besorry friends of mine that desire not my best welfare. Her do I love,and only her will I wed."

  Bertram looked across at his wife with a smile.

  "Must we tell him, Dame?"

  "I think we may, husband."


  "Then know, Lord James de Audley, that you have asked more than youwist. This maid is no daughter of mine. Wedding her, you should wednot Nell Lyngern, a poor knight's daughter; but the Lady Alianora deHoland, Countess of Kent, of the royal line, whose mother was daughterunto a son of King Edward. Now what say you?"

  The young man's face changed painfully.

  "Sir, I thank you," he said in a low voice. "I am no man fit to matewith the blood royal. Lady Countess, I cry you mercy for mine ignoranceand mine unwisdom."

  "Tarry yet a moment, Lord de Audley," said Bertram, smiling again; forthe girl's colour came and went, the distaff trembled in her hand, andher eyes sought his with a look of troubled entreaty. "Well, Nell?--speak out, maiden mine!"

  "Father!" she said in an agitated voice, "he loved Nell Lyngern!"

  "Come, Lord James," said Bertram, laughing, "methinks you be not goingempty away. God bless you, man and maid!--only, good knight and true,see thou leave not to love Nell Lyngern."

  The picture fades away, and another comes on the scene.

  The bar of the House of Lords. Peers in their Parliament robes fill allthe benches, and at their head sits the Regent,--Prince Humphrey, Dukeof Gloucester, the representative Rationalist of the fifteenth century.He was no Papist, for he disliked and despised Romish superstitions; yetno Lollard, for he was utterly incapable of receiving the things of theSpirit of God. Henry the Fifth now lies entombed at Westminster, and onthe throne is his little son of nine years old, for whom his uncleHumphrey reigns and rules. There comes forward to the bar afair-haired, stately woman, robed in the ermine and velvet of acountess. She is asked to state her name and her business. The replycomes in a clear voice.

  "My name is Alianora Touchet, Lady de Audley; and I am the only daughterand heir of Sir Edmund de Holand, sometime Earl of Kent, and of Custancehis wife, daughter unto Sir Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. I claimthe lands and coronets of this my father--the earldom of Kent, and thebarony of Wake de Lydel."

  Her evidences are received and examined. The case shall be considered,and the petitioner shall receive her answer that day month. She bowsand retires.

  And then down from her eyrie, like a vengeful eagle, swoops the oldDuchess Joan of York--the sister of Kent, the step-mother of Constance--who has two passions to gratify, her hatred to the memory of the one,and her desire to retain her share of the estates of the other. Shedraws up her answer to the claim,--astutely disappearing into thebackground, and pushing forward her simpler sister Margaret, entirelygoverned by her influence, as the prominent objector. She forgetsnothing. She urges the assent and consent of Henry the Fourth to themarriage of Lucia, the presence of Constance at the ceremony, and everypoint which can give weight to her objection. She prays, therefore--orMargaret does for her--that the claim of the aforesaid Alianora may beadjudged invalid, and the earldom of Kent extinct.

  Lady Audley reappears on the day appointed. It is the same scene again,with Duke Humphrey as president; who informs her, with calm judicialimpartiality, that her petition is rejected, her claim disallowed, andher name branded with the bar sinister for ever. But as she leaves thebar, denied and humiliated, her hand is drawn gently into another hand,and a voice softly asks her--"Am not I better to thee than tencoronets?"

  And so they pass away.

  The second dissolving view has disappeared; and the last slowly growsbefore our sight.

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  A dungeon in the Tower of London. There is only a solitary prisoner,--aman of fifty years of age, moderate in stature, but very slightly built,with hands and feet which would be small even in a woman. His face hasnever been handsome; there are deep furrows in the forehead, andsomething more than time has turned the brown hair grey, and given tothe strongly-marked features that pensive, weary look, which hiscountenance always wears when in repose. Ask his name of his gaolers,and they will say it is "Sir Henry of Lancaster, the usurper;" but askit of himself, and a momentary flash lights up the sunken eyes as heanswers, "I am the King."

  Neither Pharisee nor Sadducee is Henry the Sixth. He is not a Lollard,simply because he never knew what Lollardism was. During his reign itlay dormant--the old Wycliffite plant violently uprooted, the newLutheran shoots not yet visible above the ground. He was one of thevery few men divinely taught without ostensible human agency,--withinwhom God is pleased to dwell by His Spirit at an age so early that thedawn of the heavenly instinct cannot be perceived. From the follies,the cruelties, and the iniquities of Romanism he shrank with thatHeaven-born instinct; and by the dim flickering light which he had, hewalked with God. His way led over very rough ground, full of ruggedstones, on which his weary feet were bruised and torn. But it was theway Home.

  And now, to-night, on the 22nd of May, 1471, the prisoner is very wornand weary. He sits with a book before him--a small square volume, inilluminated Latin, with delicately-wrought borders, and occasionalfull-page illuminations; a Psalter, which came into his hands from thoseof another prisoner in like case with himself, for the book oncebelonged to Richard of Bordeaux [Note 2]. He turns slowly over theleaves, now and then reading a sentence aloud:--sentences all of whichindicate a longing for home and rest.

  "`My soul is also sore vexed; but Thou, O Lord, how long?'

  "`Lord, how long wilt Thou look on? Rescue my soul from theirdestructions, mine only one from the lions.'

  "`And now, Lord, what wait I for?'

  "`Who shall give me wings like a dove?--and I will flee away, and be atrest!'" [Vulgate version].

  At last the prisoner closed the book, and spoke in his own words to hisheavenly Friend--the only friend whom he had in all the world, exceptthe wife who was a helpless prisoner like himself.

  "Lord God, Thy will be done! Grant unto me patience to await Thy time;but, O fair Father, I lack rest!"

  And just as his voice ceased, the heavy door rolled back, and themessenger of rest came in.

  He did not look like a messenger of rest. But all God's messengers arenot angels. And there was little indeed of the angel in this man'scomposition. His figure would have been tall but for a deformity whichhis enemies called a hump back, and his friends merely an overgrownshoulder; and his face would have been handsome but for its morose,scowling expression, which by no means betokened an amiable character.

  The two cousins stood and looked at each other. The prisoner was thegrandson of Henry of Bolingbroke, and the visitor was the grandson ofRichard of Conisborough.

  There were a few words on each side--contemptuous taunts, and sharpaccusations, on the one side,--low, patient replies on the other. Thencame a gleam of something flashing in the dim light, and the dagger ofthe visitor was sheathed in the pale prisoner's heart.

  At rest, at last: safe, and saved, and with God.

  It was a cruel, brutal, cold-blooded murder. But was it nothing else?Was there in it no operation of those Divine wheels which "grind slowly,yet exceeding small?"--no visitation, by Him to whom vengeancebelongeth, of the sins of the guilty fathers upon the guiltless son--vengeance for the broken heart of Richard of Bordeaux, for the judicialmurder of Richard of Conisborough, for the dreary imprisoned girlhood ofAnne Mortimer, and--last, not least--for the long, slow years of moraltorture, ending with the bitter cup forced into the dying hand of theWhite Rose of Langley?

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------

  Note 1. Richard of Conisborough married secondly, and probably chieflywith the view of securing a mother for his children, Maude Clifford, adaughter of the great Lollard House of Clifford of Cumberland. Shesurvived him many years.

  Note 2. The Psalter is still extant, in the British Museum: Cott. Ms.Domit. A. xvii.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

  HISTORICAL APPENDIX.

  The condensed biographical sketches which follow, of such persons asfigure principally in the story, will help to show to those who wish toread it intelligently, how m
uch of it is genuine history. They will seethat the tale is mainly constructed on a succession of hypotheses, butthat every hypothesis rests on a substratum of fact, however slender,and in many cases on careful weighing and comparison of a number offacts together. Some of these conjectures are perhaps the only oneswhich will fully and satisfactorily account for the sequence of events.For convenience of reference, the names are arranged in alphabeticalorder.

  ARUNDEL, THOMAS DE, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.

  Third son of Richard the Copped Hat, ninth Earl of Arundel, and Alianoraof Lancaster; born 1352-3. Bishop of Ely, 1374; translated to York, ofwhich see consecrated Archbishop, April 3rd, 1388, on the expulsion ofArchbishop Neville. In 1390 he joined with Archbishop Courtenay ofCanterbury in refusing assent to statutes passed in restraint of thePope's prerogative. In the winter of 1394-5 he went over to Irelandwith the special purpose of exciting King Richard's jealousy andsuspicion against the political Lollards, after having for two yearsprofessed to favour them himself. He was translated to Canterbury onthe death of Courtenay, and consecrated Archbishop, January 11th, 1397.On September 19th of the same year, Arundel was commanded to keep hishouse; and the day after was solemnly impeached by the House of Commonsof high treason, "he having in the eleventh year of the King [1387-8]counselled the said Duke [Thomas of Gloucester] and Earl [Richard ofArundel, his brother], to take on themselves royal power." (_Rot.Pari_, iii. 353.) The Commons entreated on the 25th that the Archbishopmight be banished. The decree of banishment was issued, and he wasordered to sail from Dover, on the 29th of that month. His see wasdeclared vacant, and Roger Walden was elected Archbishop in his stead.But Arundel came back, landing at Ravenspur with Henry of Bolingbroke,July 4th, 1399; and Roger Walden sank into such instant and completeoblivion that some well-informed writers have dogmatically asserted thatthere never was an Archbishop of that name. In October, 1404, Arundelsignalised himself by a violent quarrel with the Speaker in fullParliament. He issued his rigid "constitution" against the Lollards in1409; and he was the principal agent in the persecution of Lord Cobham.He died February 20th, 1414, lingering for a few days after a paralyticstroke, as stated in the story. His age was 61. The mantle of thiscleverest man of his day--clever for evil--descended, a hundred yearslater, upon Stephen Gardiner. Any believer in transmigration could feelno doubt that the soul of the one man inhabited the other.

  CAMBRIDGE, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, EARL OF ("DICKON").

  Third and youngest child of Edmund Duke of York and his first wifeIsabel of Castilla: born at Conisborough Castle, Yorkshire, whence,according to the custom of his time, he was usually known as Richard ofConisborough. The only record extant of his father's visiting thecastle is a charter dated thence, September 11th, 1376. (_Rot. Pat_.50 E. III, Part 2.) This is probably therefore about the time ofRichard's birth. He was left in England with his sister during theeighteen months (May, 1381, to October, 1382) which his parents spent inPortugal. His mother, dying in 1393, bequeathed him to the care of KingRichard the Second, who had been his godfather, though the King was onlynine years older than his godson and namesake; and she constituted hisMajesty her residuary legatee in trust for her son, desiring that hewould allow him 500 marks annually for life. This sum would beequivalent now to about 6,500 pounds per annum. So long as King Richardwas in power, the money was paid faithfully, 100 from the issues of theCounty of York, and 233 pounds 6 shillings 8 pence from the Exchequer.(Lansd. _Ms_. 860, A, folio 274; Nicolas' _Test. Vet_, i. 134; _Rot.Pat_. 16 R. II, Part 3.) During the sanguinary struggles between KingRichard and his cousin Henry the Fourth, nothing is seen of Richard ofConisborough. He was not with the King in Ireland nor at Conway,neither does he appear in Henry's suite. He probably kept himself veryquiet. When his brother and sister were imprisoned in 1405 for theattempted rescue of the Mortimers, no suspicion fell on Richard.Whether he was really concerned in the plot can only be guessed. In1406 he was chosen to escort the Princess Philippa to Denmark, and onaccount of his poverty a grant was made to cover his expenses. Thepoverty was no great wonder, for though a show of confirming his royalgodfather's grant had been made, yet practically poor Richard's incomewas reduced to 40 pounds per annum. (_Rot. Pat_. 1 H. IV, Part 3;_Rot. Ex, Pose_, 3 H. V.) He was probably created, or allowed toassume the title of, Earl of Cambridge, which really appertained to hisbrother, only a short time before his death; for up to December 5th,1414, he is styled in the state papers Richard of York. The accusationsbrought against him, by which he was done to death, were so absurdlyimprobable as to be incredible. It was asserted that Charles the Sixthof France had sent over "a hundred thousand in gold," (which probablymeans crowns) to Richard Earl of Cambridge, Henry Lord Scrope of Upsal,and Sir Thomas Grey de Wark, urging them to betray Henry the Fifth intohis hands, or murder him before he should arrive in Normandy; thatthereupon the trio conspired to lead March into Wales (a simplerepetition of Constance's defeated attempt), and to proclaim him King,if King Richard were dead--which Henry the Fifth perfectly well knew hewas, and so did the accused trio; that they carried into Wales thebanner and crown of Spain, for the purpose of crowning March, the saidarticles being pawned to the Earl of Cambridge--which crown had inreality been bequeathed by the Infanta Isabel to her son Edward, and indefault of his issue to Richard, and had never been in possession of theHouse of Lancaster at all; that they had sent to Scotland for twopersonators of King Richard, Trumpington and another (probably JohnMaudeleyn) whom they intended to pass off to the people as KingRichard--which is in itself a contradiction to the charge of setting upMarch as King. Cambridge and Scrope pleaded their peerage. Acommission was issued, August 5th, 1415, by which their judges wereappointed--Thomas Duke of Clarence, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester(brothers of the King), Thomas Earl of Dorset (the King's half-brother),who sat as proxy of Edward Duke of York; Edmund Earl of March, the veryman whom they were accused of making King; and fourteen other peers.Neither Cambridge nor Scrope was allowed to speak in his own defence.Sentence was passed at once, and they were beheaded the day following onSouthampton Green. There is no evidence that Richard had conspired forany purpose; the whole affair was apparently a mere pretext to be rid ofhim. In character, Richard seems to have been noble and honourable,with a slight taint of his father's indecision: there is no portrait ofhim known. The traces of Lollardism are very slight, but I think theymay be fairly considered "proven;" and if this be the case, it fullyaccounts for the acrimony with which he was hunted to death. His agewhen he died was about 39. Richard of Conisborough was twice married;his wives were--1. Anne, eldest child of Roger Mortimer, fifth Earl ofMarch, and his wife Alianora de Holand; born about 1390; very likelyimprisoned in Windsor Castle with her brothers on the usurpation ofHenry the Fourth, 1400; released, if so, with her sister Alianora, andboth provided for by the King (being described as "_omnibus suisparentibus et amicis destitutis_"), and all fiefs of their mothergranted to them, May 13th, 1406 (_Rot. Pat_. 7 H. IV, Part 2);married, probably, 1408; most likely died in childbed, September1410-11, aged about 20 years. 2. Maude, only daughter of Thomas, LordClifford of Cumberland (one of the two most uncompromisingly Lollardhouses in the kingdom) and his wife Elizabeth de Ros of Hamlake; bornprobably about 1390, married, 1412-15; married, secondly, John Neville,sixth and last Lord Latimer of Danby; died without issue, August 26,1446 (_Inq. Post Mortem_ 25 H. VI, 21), aged about 56. The childrenof Richard of Conisborough (both by Anne Mortimer) were:--1. Isabel,born about 1409, married (1) to Thomas Grey de Wark (son of the mancondemned with her father), before February 18, 1412 (_Rot. Pat_. 13 H.IV, Part 2); (2) her second cousin, Henry Bourchier, Earl of Essex andCount of Eu; died (leaving issue by second marriage) October 2nd, 1484,aged about 75. (_Inq. Post Mortem_ 2 R. III, 53.) 2. Richard, Dukeof York and Albemarle, Earl of Cambridge, Lord of Teviotdale andHolderness: born September 21st, 1410 or 1411 (more likely the earlieryear. (_Inq. Post Mortem_ 11 H. VI, 39, _Anna Comitissa Marchia_; 3H. VI, 32, _Edmundi Comitis Marchice_; 3 H. V, 45,
_Edmundi DudsEbor_; 12 H. VI, 43, _Johanna Ducissa Ebor_.) He afterwards set up hisclaims against the House of Lancaster, which were brought to asuccessful issue by his sons, though he himself never was King. Marriedabout 1438, Cicely Neville, daughter of Ralph, first Earl ofWestmoreland and his wife Joan Beaufort; called the Rose of Raby.Beheaded after the battle of Wakefield, December 30th, 1460 (_Inq. PostMortem_ 18 E. IV, 60), aged 50; buried at Pomfret, 1466; Fotheringay,1476.

  DESPENSER, CONSTANCE PLANTAGENET, LADY LE, COUNTESS OF GLOUCESTER.

  Only daughter of Edmund Duke of York and his wife Isabel of Castilla;most likely born at Langley, in or about 1374. On the 16th of April,1378, the marriage of Edward, son and heir of Edward late Lord LeDespenser, was granted to her father for her benefit. (_Rot. Pat_. 1R. II, Part 5.) But the infant bridegroom was dead on the 30th of Mayfollowing, and his brother Thomas was evidently substituted in hisstead. (_Rot. Pat_. 1 R. II, Part 6.) Thomas and Constance weremarried before the 7th of November, 1379, as on that day her uncle, Johnof Gaunt, paid 22 pounds 0 shillings 4 pence for his wedding present tothe bride, a silver-gilt cup and ewer on a stand, and he speaks of themarriage as then past (_Register of John Duke of Lancaster_, ii, folio19, _b_.) Constance remained in England during the absence of herparents in Portugal, 1381-2. Eighty marks per annum were granted to herfrom the Despenser lands, January 14th, 1384. When she took up herresidence at Cardiff with her husband is uncertain; but there is everyprobability that it was not till after the death of her mother, inFebruary, 1393, and very likely not till after her father's secondmarriage, about the following October. The approximate date may begiven as 1394-5. Two pardons are recorded of persons accused of murder,June 22nd, 1395, and April 27th, 1396, "at the request of our belovedkinswoman the Countess of Gloucester." There was no Countess ofGloucester at the time, for Constance had not yet attained that title.The words _may_ be slips of the scribe's pen for the Duchess ofGloucester. It was not until September 29th, 1397, that Thomas LeDespenser was created Earl of Gloucester. There is no evidence to showthe presence of Constance in London during the stormy period of hercousin Henry's usurpation; she seems to have remained at Cardiff. Onthe 22nd of February, 1400, about six weeks after her husband's murder,a grant of 60 pounds per annum was made to the King's son, John Duke ofBedford, out of the issues of her lands (_Rot Pat._ 1 H. IV, Part 8);but on the 3rd of March, the custody of her son Richard was granted toher, and 30 pounds worth of gold and silver of her late husband's goodsin the hands of the Mayor of Bristol. (_Ibidem_, Part 6.) Moreover, onthe 19th of February, a concession was made to her of eleven manors, twotowns, two castles, two lordships, and other lands (_Ibidem_, Part 5);followed by a grant of "the price of certain vessels of silver,brooches, jewels, and other goods" which had belonged to her husband.(_Rot. Ex, Pasc_, 1 H. IV.) In 1404 she was restored to her dower byAct of Parliament. (_Inq. Post. Mortem_ 4 H. V 52.) When and whereshe met with her second husband can only be guessed; for that EdmundEarl of Kent was really her second husband I think there is thestrongest reason to believe. His sisters afterwards chose to deny themarriage; it was their interest to do so, for had the legitimacy of hischild been established, they would have been obliged to resign to herher father's estates, which, as his presumptive heirs, they hadinherited. Their excessive anxiety to prove her illegitimate, thepersecution which Constance subsequently underwent, the resolutedetermination of Henry the Fourth that Kent should marry Lucia, and theremarkable coincidence of time between Constance's imprisonment andLucia's marriage, go far to show that the marriage (though perhapsclandestine) was genuine, as alleged by Alianora; and I cannot avoid astrong conviction that a great deal of this hate and persecution weredue to the fact that Constance was actually or suspectedly a Lollard.The denials of Kent's sisters may be attributed to their wish to retainhis estates; while as for his nephews and nieces, who nominally joinedin the petition, they could only know what they were told; for JoyceLady Tibetot, the eldest of the group, was only three years old at thedeath of Kent. But to what cause can be attributed the violentdetermination of Henry the Fourth? If it be supposed that he wished tobenefit and advance Kent, how did he do it by preventing hisacknowledged marriage with a well-dowered Princess of England?--or if tolower him, how was this done by purchasing for him, at the cost of70,000 florins, the hand of a foreign Princess? Beside this, Henryshowed throughout that while he had no mercy for Constance, he was onthe best possible terms with Kent. Modern writers are altogether atfault on the subject, most of them alleging that Constance's daughterAlianora was born before her marriage with Thomas Le Despenser; whereasit is shown by the Register that when Le Despenser and Constance weremarried, the latter was only four or five years old, while Kent was noteven born. The rescue of the Mortimers comes in to complicate matters;but what shall be said, from the point of view of some writers, whosubmit that the whole was a mere pretext to imprison Constance and herbrother, that the Mortimers were never stolen away at all, or that thereal agents remained undiscovered, and that Constance's allegedconfession is a pure fiction from beginning to end? One thing is plain:there was evidently _some_ reason in the mind of the King why Kent mustnot openly marry Constance: and knowing Henry's character, and Kent'scharacter as well, I can see none that suits all the facts of the case,unless Constance were one of the hated and proscribed Lollards. Themarriage of Constance and Kent, if it really occurred, of which I cannotfeel the least doubt, must have taken place between 1401 and 1404inclusive. It was about February, 1405, that (if this part of the storybe true) she broke into Windsor Castle and carried off the youngMortimers, by means of false keys; and she and they had nearly reachedWales when they were recaptured. She was tried before Parliament.Henry the Fourth's records (but he was an atrocious falsifier of statepapers) tell us that she confessed that her brother Edward had been herinstigator; and that he had attempted, the Christmas before, to scalethe walls of Eltham Palace, and assassinate or at least imprison KingHenry. This may or may not be true. What is undoubtedly true is thatEdward and Constance were arrested and imprisoned; the latter inKenilworth Castle, whither she was taken at a cost of 10 pounds, incharge of Elmingo Leget (_Rot. Ex, Michs_, 6 H. IV); and that all theestates, goods, and chattels of both were seized by the Crown.(_Ibidem_.) But Kent remained in favour. The length of time which mustnecessarily have elapsed shows that no sooner was Constance safely shutup than Henry began negotiating with his old friend, Galeazzo Visconti,for the hand of his beautiful cousin Lucia as the bride of Kent. Whenall was arranged, but not sooner, in November he presented himself atKenilworth. (_Rot. Pat_, 7 H. IV, Part i.) What means were taken totorture his unhappy cousin into compliance with his iron will can onlybe conjectured. She did at last consent to disown her marriage, unlessthe facts alleged in the petition of Kent's sisters are fictions. OnJanuary 19th, 1406, "all the goods that belonged to the said Constance,in the custody of the Treasurer of our Household, and were lately seisedin our hands for certain causes," were munificently granted to her "ofour gift." (_Ibidem_.) On the 24th of the same month, Kent and Luciawere married, and--if his sisters may be believed--Constance waspresent. (_Rot. Pari_, iv. 375.) And on the 18th of June following,all the lands and tenements of Thomas Le Despenser were restored to hiswidow. (_Rot. Pat_, 7 H. IV, Part 2.) In May, 1412, she had againoffended; for her son was taken from her, and his custody and marriagewere granted to trustees, one of whom was his uncle, Edward Duke ofYork. (_Ibidem_, 13 H. IV, Part 2.) No more is heard of her until theaccession of Henry the Fifth, when the immediate favour shown to herconfirms the suspicion that her offence was in some way connected withpolitical, if not religious, Lollardism. On the 18th of July, 1413, theyoung King confirmed _all_ his father's grants to Constance (_Ibidem_, 1H. V, Part 3), which concession restored her boy to her custody. Butwhen Henry the Fifth turned against Lollardism, he turned against hiscousin with it. All the Despenser lands were granted to her brotherEdward for life, April 16th, 1414, in compensation for the loss which heh
ad sustained by Richard Le Despenser's death (_Ibidem_, 2 H. V, Part1); the truth being that the grant to him in 1412 had been cancelled bythe subsequent concession to his sister, so that he had sustained noloss at all. Troubles came thickly upon Constance now. The sudden andviolent deaths of her brothers, within three months of each other, musthave been no slight shock to her; and shortly after that she was againunder royal displeasure. The nature of her offence is matter forconjecture. We only know with certainty that she died on the 28th ofNovember, 1416, aged about 42 (_Inq. Post Mortem_, 4 H. V 52); andthat she died under a dark cloud of royal wrath, which was manifested bythe withholding of permission for honourable burial for four years.Constance was interred in Reading Abbey, in 1420. No portrait of her isknown. Her character appears to have been as I have represented it--warm-hearted, impulsive, and eager, but wayward and obstinate. Herchildren were four in number; three by her first marriage, who were:--1.Richard, born at Cardiff, November 30th, 1396. On the 23rd of May,1412, he was removed from his mother's keeping, and his custody andmarriage were granted, "at the request of Edward Duke of York," to tentrustees: Archbishop Arundel, Thomas Bishop of Durham, Edward Duke ofYork, Sir John Pelham, Robert Tirwhit, Robert W yntryngham, clerk, JohnBokeland, clerk, Thomas Walwayn, Henry Bracy, and John Adam. They werecharged with the custody of "all lands whatsoever now inherited by thesaid Richard, and in our hands, or any lands that may or can descend tohim; and all that since the death of Thomas his father, for whatsoevercause or pretext, has been seized by us." More comprehensive termscould scarcely be used. Richard's marriage took place immediately underthis grant. The bride chosen by the trustees was Alianora, seconddaughter of Ralph Neville, first Earl of Westmoreland, by his secondwife Joan Beaufort, half-sister of King Henry. On the accession ofHenry the Fifth, March 20th, 1413, this grant was revoked, and Richardrestored to his mother. He survived his return home only six months,dying at Merton Abbey, Surrey--to all appearance unexpectedly--October6th, 1413, aged nearly 17. How he came to be at Merton is an unsolvedquestion; for it looks as if he were in Arundel's keeping still, and asif the concession to Constance had remained ineffectual. Hischild-widow re-married Henry Percy, second Earl of Northumberland, andbecame the mother of a large family.--2. Elizabeth, born and died atCardiff, probably in 1398.--3. Isabel, born at Cardiff, "on the feastof the Seven Holy Sleepers," July 10th, 1400; baptised in the Church ofSaint Mary in that town, the same day, by Thomas Bishop of Llandaff(_Prob. at. dicta Isabella_, 2 H. V 23); married (1) July 10th, 1411,Richard Beauchamp, Earl of Worcester (2) 1422--4, his cousin, RichardNeville, Earl of Warwick; died December 26th, 1439, aged 39 (_Inq.Post. Mortem_ 18 H. VI 3), leaving issue by both marriages; buried inTewkesbury Abbey. (_Harl. Ms_. 154, folio 31.);--The fourth and lastwas the unfortunate, disinherited Alianora, born between 1402 and 1405,both inclusive, and most likely, at Kenilworth, in 1405; married (dateunknown) James Touchet, Lord Audley of Heleigh; date of death, portrait,and character unknown: left issue. In 1430 she claimed the coronet andestates of her father, alleging herself to be the legitimate daughter ofEdmund Earl of Kent, and Constance his wife. A counter-petition waspresented by Joan Duchess of York, Constance's step-mother; MargaretDuchess of Clarence, her sister (and contrary to all mediaeval usage,the younger sister is named first); and five nephews and nieces, all ofwhom were unborn or in the cradle when the events referred to tookplace. The sisters of Kent pleaded that "never any espousals were hadne solemnised in deed betwixt the said Edmund and Custance; but that thesaid Edmund, _by the ordinance, will, and agreement of the full nobleLord late King Henry the Fourth_, that God rest, after great, notable,and _long_ ambassad' had and sent unto the Duke of Melane for marriageto be had betwixt the said Edmund and Luce, sister to the said Duke ofMilan, took to wife and openly and solemnly wedded the said Luce atLondon, living and then and there present the said Custance, notclaiming the said Edmund unto her husband, ne any dower of his landsafter his decease. The said espousals so had and solemnised betwixt thesaid Edmund and Luce continued withouten any interruption of the saidCustance, or any oyer during the life of the said Edmund." These ladieswere very wrathful against the "subtlety, imagined process, privy labourand coloured means" whereby certain persons had been so wicked as todepose that the said Alianora was born "in espousals had and solemnisedbetween Edmund and Custance," particularly considering that "the saidsuppliants" were "none of them warned" of her intention to appear andmake her claim. (_Rot. Pari_. IV. 375-6.) The passage in Italics,when viewed with the surrounding circumstances, told as much, if notmore, in Alianora's favour, as against her. And it did not please theDuchess Joan to mention a few other little circumstances, which it wasmore convenient than just to leave out of the account. The fact that itwas not the first time that Henry had applied to Galeazzo for assistancein what is expressively termed "dirty work" (Froissart, book iv chapter94); that Constance, however willing to protest against the projectedmarriage of Edmund and Lucia, had been physically unable, being aprisoner in Kenilworth Castle; that she had been set free just in timeto appear at the wedding (if she did appear); and that the bundle ofgrants to her, dated about the same time, suspiciously point to apurchase of her consent:--such facts as these, it was more convenient toleave in the background. The petitions were received by Humphrey Dukeof Gloucester, a Gallio who cared for none of these things, whose crueltreatment of his own hapless wife shows that no chivalrous feeling couldactuate him, and no desire to right a wronged woman influence his acts;but who probably was not desirous to blacken the memory of his father,and had no wish to disturb his brother's wife in the enjoyment of Kent'sestates. So the answer returned to Joan's petition was--"_Soit faitcomme il est desire_"--an answer fatal to the hopes the claim, and thebirthright, of the unfortunate Alianora.

  DESPENSER, ELIZABETH LE, BARONESS OF CARDIFF.

  Only daughter and heir of Bartholomew, fourth Baron Burghersh, by hisfirst wife Cicely de Weyland; and Baroness Burghersh in her own right.She was born probably about 1340, and brought up under the care of herstep-mother Margaret de Badlesmere. About 1360 or earlier, she marriedEdward Lord Le Despenser, who left her a widow November 11th, 1375. Herfamily numbered eight, of whom Edward, Hugh, and Cicely, died infants;Elizabeth married John de Arundel and William third Lord de La Zouche;Anne married Hugh Hastings and Thomas fourth Lord Morley; Margaretmarried Robert, fifth Lord Ferrers of Chartley; Philippa apparently diedunmarried; for Thomas, the youngest, see the next article. Elizabethstood sponsor in 1382 to Richard Neville, afterwards the second husbandof her grand-daughter Isabel. (_Prob. cet. dicti Ricardi_, 4 H. IV44.) The custody of her son Thomas was granted to her during hisminority (_Rot. Pat_. 11 R. II, Part 2.) She died "on the feast ofSaint Anne," July 26th, 1411, aged probably about 70. (_Ing. PostMortem_ 4 H. V 52, _Constancies Le Despenser_.) The inferences areslight which tend to show her Lollardism. The terms of her last willare decidedly Lollard; she was joined in the baptism of Richard Nevilleby Alice, widow of Sir Richard Stury; and she was niece of Joan, LadyMohun of Dunster--two of the most prominent Lollards of the period. LeDespenser was a Lollard house by tradition and inheritance. No portraitknown; character imaginary.

  DESPENSER, THOMAS LE, BARON OF CARDIFF, GLAMORGAN, AND MORGAN.

  Youngest of the eight children of Edward fourth Lord Le Despenser (aname sometimes mistakenly abbreviated to Spencer, for it is _ledepenseur_, "the spender,") and Elizabeth Baroness Burghersh. BornSeptember 21st or 22nd, 1373 (_Inq. Post Mortem_ 49 E. III ii. 46,_Edwardi Le Despenser_), and named after his father's younger brother.He was left fatherless when only two years old, November 11th, 1375.(_Ibidem_.) During his minority he was committed to the custody of hismother. (_Rot. Pat_. 11 R. II, Part 2.) In or about May, 1378, hebecame Lord Le Despenser by the death of his elder brother, Edward, andwas also substituted for him as bridegroom of the Princess Constance ofYork, whom he married between May 30th, 1378, and November 7th, 1379.(_Ibidem_, 1 R. II, Part 6; _Register of John of Gaunt_, II, folio 19,_b_.)
Shortly afterwards, February 16th, 1380, all the Despenser landswere granted to his father-in-law during his minority--an unusual step,for which there must have been some private reason in the mind of theRegent, Thomas Duke of Gloucester. We next hear of Le Despenser when alad of fifteen as at sea in the King's service, in the suite of the Earlof Arundel, and his mother was formally exonerated from allresponsibility concerning his custody until he should return. (_Rot.Pat_. 11 R. II, Part 2.) On the 20th of May, 1391, when eighteen, hereceived the royal licence to journey to Prussia--then a semi-civilisedand partly heathen country--with fifty persons, and the arms and goodsnecessary. (_Ibidem_ 14 R. II, Part 2.) He doubtless accompanied theKing to Ireland in September, 1394, since letters of attorney wereissued for him on the 10th of that month. (_Ibidem_, 18 R. II, Part1.) Two indentures show us that Le Despenser spent the autumn of 1395at Cardiff. (_Ibidem_, 1 H. IV, Parts 5, 8.) Certain manors which hadbelonged to the Duke of Gloucester and Earl of Warwick were granted toLe Despenser and Constance, September 28th, 1397. He is styled in thisgrant Earl of Gloucester, (_Ibidem_, 21 R. II, Part 1), though it wasnot until the day following that his creation took place. The custodyof the Castle of Gloucester was also granted to him for life; and themanors were conceded with a (then unusual) limitation to heirs male.The next day, September 29th, he was created Earl of Gloucester inWestminster Hall, "girded with sword, and a coronet set on his head bythe King in manner and form accustomed." (_Harl. Ms_. 298, folio 85.)Letters of attorney were issued April 16th, 1399, for the persons whoformed the King's suite in Ireland--Thomas Earl of Gloucester beingnamed third. The King was his guest on the journey, reaching Cardiffabout the 9th of May, and Morgan on the 11th. They embarked at MilfordHaven about the 27th, and were at Waterford on the 31st. But on thefourth of July Henry of Bolingbroke and Archbishop Arundel landed atRavenspur, and the King hurried back as soon as he heard of it, landingin Wales, and securing himself, as he hoped, first at Conway and then atFlint. According to Froissart, Aumerle and Le Despenser had remainedbehind in Bristol, and when they heard that the King was taken, theyretired to Heulle, a manor in Wales belonging to the latter. ButCreton, an eye-witness, expressly tells us that "the brave Earl ofGloucester" was with King Richard in Wales, and his indenture mentionedon the Patent Roll shows that he was in London in October. (Froissart's_Chronicles, book_ iv, _chapter_ 114; _Harl. Ms_. 1319; _Rot. Pat_, 1H. IV, Part 6.) It was on the 19th of August that King Richard and hisfaithful few were seized in the gorge of Gwrych. (_Harl. Ms_. 1319.)The route taken to London was by Chester, Nantwich, Newcastle, Stafford,Lichfield (where the King all but effected his escape), Coventry,Daventry, Northampton, Dunstable, Saint Albans, and Westminster,reaching the last place on the first of September. It is difficult tosay whether Le Despenser was present, or what part he took, at thecoronation of Henry the Fourth. According to Cretan's continuator, thecanopy was held by four dukes--York, Aumerle, Surrey (who accepted hispost very unwillingly), and Gloucester. There was no Duke of Gloucesterat this time. It might be supposed that Le Despenser, Earl ofGloucester, was meant, were it not that the writer more than onceintimates that there were four _dukes_ concerned. The probability isthat he mistook the name, and that the fourth duke was the only otherwhom it well could be, and who we know was present--Exeter. LeDespenser was still in London on the 27th of October. On the fourth ofJanuary, 1400, the six loyal friends met at Kingston, as detailed in thetext. The account there given is strictly accurate up to the point ofSurrey's death and the escape of the survivors from Cirencester, withthe simple exceptions that it is not stated who suggested firing thehotel, nor who executed it. From this point the main incidents aretrue:--the parting of Le Despenser and Salisbury near Berkeley Castle,the flight of the former to Cardiff, his escape (we are not told how)from officers sent to apprehend him, his adventure with the traitorousbargeman, imprisonment in Bristol Castle, seizure by the mob, andbeheading in the market-place. All chroniclers who name the incidentrecord that his death took place by no official sentence, but at thehands of the mob; and this is confirmed by his Inquisition, which statesthe day of death, not that of forfeiture--contrary to the custom withrespect to any person judicially condemned. In fact, Le Despenser neverwas attainted. He died January 13th, 1400 (_Inq. Post Mortem_ 1 H.IV, i. 2, _Tho. Le Despenser_), aged 27. The particulars of his burialare given in the text.

  HENRY THE FOURTH, KING OF ENGLAND.

  Fourth and youngest son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, and hisfirst wife Blanche of Lancaster; born at Bolingbroke Castle (not, asusually stated, in 1366, but) April 3rd, 1367, the day of the battle ofNavareta, in which his father was engaged. (_Compotus Hugonis deWaterton_, Duchy of Lancaster Documents, folio 4,) In 1377 he wasattached to the suite of the young Prince of Wales, afterwards Richardthe Second. (_Comp. Will'i de Bughbrigg, Ibidem_.) His tutors wereThomas de Burton and William Montendre. (_Ibidem_.) In 1380 he wasmarried to Mary de Bohun, youngest daughter and co-heir of Humphrey,last Earl of Hereford, and his wife Joan de Arundel. The ages of brideand bridegroom were ten and thirteen. A gold ring with a ruby wasbought for the bridal, at a cost of eight marks; and for the making ofthis and another ring with a diamond, 28 shillings 8 pence was paid.The offering at mass was 13 shillings 4 pence, and 40 shillings were puton the book, to be appropriated by the little bride at the words, "Withall my worldly goods I thee endow." (_Register of John of Gaunt, II,folio 48, b_.) The allowance made to Henry by his father was 250 marksper annum--equivalent in modern times to about 850. He was not yettwenty when he became one of the five "Lords Appellants," who renouncedtheir homage at Huntingdon, December 10th, 1386. Having succeeded incompelling King Richard to swear that for twelve months he would notoppose them, towards the end of that time they assumed an openly hostileattitude. At the head of 40,000 men, they reached Hornsey Park,November 11th, 1387; but it was not till the 14th that Henry and hisfriend Nottingham joined the rest. On the 20th of December was theencounter between the Dukes of Gloucester and Ireland at Radcote Bridge.The Lords Appellants appeared before the City on the 26th, and encampedat Clerkenwell on the 27th. They next granted themselves 20,000 pounds.(_Rot. Pari_, iii. 248; _Issue Roll, Michs_, 14 R. II.) After theKing had recovered his power, May 3rd, 1389, Henry retired toKenilworth. (_Rot. Pat_. 22 R. II, part 3.) It was probably about1390 that he committed the atrocity of drawing his sword on the King inthe Queen's presence, for which he was sent into honourable banishment.His first journey abroad was to Barbary; but during 1391 we find him athome, at Bolingbroke and Peterborough. In 1392 he visited Prussia andthe Holy Land. A safe-conduct had to be obtained from the King ofFrance, in May. Two immense sums of money were lent him by his father--first 666 pounds 13 shillings 4 pence, and afterwards 1,333 pounds 6shillings 8 pence. Sir Thomas Erpyngham was his fellow-traveller. Hewas at Venice on December 4th (_Comp. Rob'ti de Whitteby_, 15-16 R.II, Duchy Documents, folios 18, 19), and there or at Milan, in thisjourney, he probably made the acquaintance of Galeazzo of Milan. Hiswife died July 4th, 1394, at Peterborough. On November 25th, 1395, atreaty was signed between the Dukes of Lancaster and Bretagne, by theprovisions of which Henry was to marry Marie of Bretagne, who afterwardsbecame his step-daughter. The treaty was not carried into effect; andMarie married Jean Duke of Alencon, June 26th, 1396. The five nobleconspirators met again, to renew their guilty attempts, at Arundel, July28th, 1397. Henry slipped out of discovery and penalty as is recordedin the story; and was created Duke of Hereford, with remainder only toheirs male, September 29th, 1397. A full pardon was granted to him,January 25th, 1398 (_Rot. Pat_. 21 R. II, Part 2.) His petitionimpeaching his former friend Norfolk was presented January 30th. Thetwo appeared at Windsor, April 28th, and were commanded the next day tosettle their quarrel by wager of battle. In the interim Henry visitedhis father at Pomfret. The combatants met on Gosford Green, September16th, and were separated by the King. Henry was allowed licence totravel October 3rd, for which sentence of banishment was substituted ont
he 13th. (_Rot. Pat_. 22 R. II, Part 1.) He took leave of the Kingat Eltham. The armour in which the duel was to be fought had been sentby Galeazzo of Milan, "out of his abundant love for the Earl," atHenry's request. (Froissart, book four, chapter 94.) Henry meant tohave gone to Hainault; but by his father's advice, he settled in Paris.(_Ibidem, chapters_ 96, 97.) Here he fell in love--such love as was inhim--with the beautiful Marie of Berri, whom he would have married hadnot the King interfered and prevented it. Henry never forgave Richardfor this step. On the 3rd of February, 1399, John of Gaunt died, andHenry became Duke of Lancaster. He landed at Ravenspur with ArchbishopArundel, July 4th, marching at once in open defiance of the Crown,though his own son was in the royal suite. Had Richard the Second beenthe weak and unscrupulous tyrant which modern writers represent him,that father and son would never have met again. On the 7th of JulyHenry reached Saint Albans, where, if not earlier, his uncle of York methim and went over to his side. Thence he marched to Oxford, where hisbrother of Dorset probably joined him. His march Londonward is given inthe last article. From the 3rd of September all the royal decrees bearthe significant words, "with the assent of our dearest cousin Henry Dukeof Lancaster." He commenced his reign on the 29th of September inreality, when he forced Richard to abdicate; but officially, on the 1stof October, 1399. His first regnal act was to grant to himself all the"honours of descent" derived from his father; in other words, to revokehis own attainder. He was crowned on the 13th of October. A yearlater, November 25th, 1400, Archbishop Arundel received him into thefraternity of Christ Church, Canterbury, which must have been an orderinstituted for those who remained "in the world," since a largeproportion of its brethren were married men. From this point there isno need to pursue Henry's history, further than with respect to suchitems of it as bear upon the narrative. In 1404 he refused the requestof the Commons that the superfluous revenues of the priesthood might beconfiscated, and the money applied to military affairs. At this time,it is said, one-third of all the estates in England was in the hands ofthe clergy. For the part that he took with regard to the marriage ofhis cousin Constance with Kent, see the article under the former name.He died of leprosy, at Westminster, March 20th, 1413, aged 46. Hissecond wife, by whom he had no issue, was Jeanne, daughter of Charlesthe Second, King of Navarre, and Jeanne of France; she survived himtwenty-four years. The children of Henry the Fourth, several of whomare mentioned in the story, were:--1. Henry the Fifth, born at MonmouthCastle, August 9th, 1387; married, at Troyes, Katherine, daughter ofCharles the Sixth, King of France, and Isabeau of Bavaria, June 3rd,1420; died at Vincennes, August 31st, 1422, aged 35.--2. Thomas Duke ofClarence, born in London, 1388 (probably in May); a "brother" ofCanterbury; married, 1412, Margaret de Holand, sister of Edmund Earl ofKent, and widow of John Marquis of Dorset; killed in the battle ofBaugi, March 29th, 1421, aged 33.--3. John Duke of Bedford, born 1389;married (1) Anne, daughter of Jean Sans Peur, Duke of Burgundy, atTroyes, April 17th, 1423; (2) Jaquette, daughter of a Count of SaintPol, at Therouenne, April, 1433; he died September 14th, 1435, aged46.--4. Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, born 1390, admitted a "brother"of Canterbury 1408; married (1) Jaqueline, Duchess of Holland andHainault, 1422, and repudiating her without any formal divorce, married(2) Alianora, daughter of Reginald Lord Cobham of Sterborough, about1428; murdered at Saint Edmund's Bury, by his uncle Cardinal Beaufort,February 23rd, 1447, aged 57.--5. Blanche, born at Peterborough, 1392;married, at Cologne, July, 1402, Ludwig of the Pfalz; died at Neustadt,May 22nd, 1409, aged 17.--6. Philippa, born at Peterborough, July,1394; married, at Lund, October 26th, 1406, Eric King of Denmark; diedat Wadstena, January 5th, 1430, aged 36.

  KENT, EDMUND DE HOLAND, 7TH AND LAST EARL.

  Probably _youngest_ son of Thomas De Holand, fifth Earl, and his wifeAlesia de Arundel; born at Brokenhurst, January 6th, 1382 (_Prob. cet.dicti. Edmundi_, 5 H. IV 38); baptised in Saint Thomas's Church,January 8th. (_Ibidem_.) In 1403 he guarded the King to Shrewsbury; in1404 he joined in the Duke of Clarence's expedition to Sluys; and Henrythe Fourth made him Lord High Admiral. He was received into thefraternity at Canterbury, May 8th, 1405, about two months after theimprisonment of Constance. About New Year's Day, 1406, "when he assumedhis arms," he made a grand tournament in Smithfield; the Earl of Moraychallenged him to single combat, and was triumphantly vanquished byKent. He appears to have lent himself with the most easy indifferenceto Henry the Fourth's scheme for getting rid of Constance. Theprobability is that he was tired of her, and was deeply in love withLucia. He was wounded in the head at the siege of Briac Castle,September 10th, 1408, and died after lingering five days. His body wasbrought over to England, and buried in Bourne Abbey, Lincolnshire.

  KENT, LUCIA VISCONTI, COUNTESS.

  Youngest child of Barnabb Visconti and Beatrice Scaligero (surnamedRegina for her pride), and cousin, not sister, of Galeazzo the Second,Duke of Milan. She was probably born about 1383, and was most likelystill in her cradle when in 1384 she was contracted with great pomp andceremony to Louis Duke of Anjou, afterwards King of Sicily. TheVisconti ladies were renowned for beauty, and Lucia's cousin Valentina,Duchess of Orleans, was one of the most renowned beauties of her day.Lucia was still in infancy when her father was deposed and imprisoned byhis nephew Gian Galeazzo, May 6th, 1385; and she lost her mother aboutthe same time. Louis of Anjou did not fulfil his contract, and Galeazzosold Lucia for 70,000 florins, as stated in the text. She was marriedto Earl Edmund at the Church of Saint Mary Overy, Southwark, January24th, 1406. After her husband's death Henry the Fourth tried to induceher to marry Thomas Beaufort, Earl of Dorset, his own half-brother. Itis commonly said that Lucia refused Dorset, and she certainly does notdescribe herself as Countess of Dorset, but only as Countess of Kent, inher will (printed in _Test. Vet_. i. 205). But she is twice styled byHenry "our dear sister Lucia" (March 16th and 28th, 1409--_Rot. Pat_.10 H. IV), which looks as if she did marry Dorset. Stow says that shemarried Sir Henry de Mortimer, and had a daughter Anne. However thismay be, in 1421 she was petitioning the Crown for aid on account of deeppoverty, caused by the overwhelming mass of debts left behind by Edmund,who died intestate. (_Rot. Pari_, iv. 143-5.) Nothing more is knownof her except the date of her death, April 14th, 1424, when aged about40. (_Inq. Post. Mortem_ 2 H. VI 35, _Lucitz Comitissae Kane_'.)She was buried in the Church of the Augustine Friars, London. (_Harl.Ms_ 544, folio 78.) The English mistook Lucia for Galeazzo's sister.

  MARCH, EDMUND MORTIMER, SIXTH AND LAST EARL.

  Eldest son of Roger, fifth Earl, and his wife Alianora de Holand; bornNovember 4th, 1391; imprisoned in Windsor Castle, about Christmas, 1399;stolen away by Constance Le Despenser, about February 14th, 1405;recaptured and again consigned to prison; bound with four others assurety for 70,000 florins, to be paid to Duke of Milan, January, 1406;marriage granted to Queen Jeanne of Navarre, February 24th, 1408 (_Rot.Pat_. 9 H. IV, Part 1), and afterwards sold by her to the Prince ofWales for 200 pounds (_Rot. Ex, Michs_, 1 H. V); apparently releasedon accession of Henry the Fifth, 1413; married, 1414-16, Anne, daughterof Edmund Earl of Stafford, and his wife Princess Anne of Gloucester;sat as judge on his brother-in-law's trial--with regard to whose crime,if the indictment were true, March must have been himself chiefwitness,--August 5th, 1415; received pardon for all offences, August7th. The next mention of him is that he was living in Ireland, July10th, 1424; and it was in Ireland, at Trim Castle, that he died, January19th, 1425, aged 33. He was buried at Stoke Clare. He left no issue,and his widow remarried John de Holand, Earl of Huntingdon. The lastmention of his brother Roger as living occurs on the Rolls, August 26th,1404; but we are told that he was one of the boys stolen by Constance inFebruary, 1405. After that nothing is heard of him but that he diedyoung; probably before his brother's release, as his age would then havebeen at least fifteen. His sister Alianora married Edward Courtenay,and died issueless.

  YORK, EDMUND PLANTAGENET, FIRST DUKE.

  Sixth son (but fourth who reached manhood
) of Edward the Third andPhilippa of Hainault Born at Langley, June 5th, 1341; baptised byNicholas Abbot of Saint Albans; and committed to the care of Joan deOxenford, Agnes de La Marche, and Margery de Wyght. He was brought upin the nursery palace at Chilterne, or Children's Langley, Herts. Onthe 8th of February, 1362, ambassadors were appointed to contractmarriage between Edmund and Margaret Duchess of Burgundy. The marriagewas appointed to take place at Bruges, February 4th, 1365; but PopeUrban refused to grant a dispensation (urged by the King of France, whowanted the Princess for his son), and the negotiations came to nothing.Edmund was created Earl of Cambridge and Lord of Teviotdale, November14th, 1362. In 1366 his name appears in the marriage treaty of hisbrother Lionel with Violante Visconti of Milan, which provided thatEdmund should be substituted for Lionel if his brother died before themarriage. From 1369 to 1371 the Earl was on the Continent with hisbrothers, the Black Prince and the Duke of Lancaster. It was atRochefort, near Bordeaux, about November, 1369, that Edmund first sawhis future wife, the Infanta Isabel of Castilla; but he did not marryher until 1372. In 1374 he was Governor of Bretagne; Constable of Doverand Warden of the Cinque Ports, July 12th, 1376. At the coronation ofRichard the Second, July 16th, 1377, Edmund was second of the homagers,and walked next but one after the King. In May, 1381, he sailed forPortugal, accompanied by his wife and eldest son. Little was done inrespect of the errand on which he had gone--the furtherance of theInfanta's claims to Castilla; and he came back, disappointed, inOctober, 1382. He was created Duke of York, at Hoselow Lodge, August6th, 1385, "by cincture of sword and imposition of gold coronet on hishead." (_Harl. Ms. 298, folio_. 84, _b_.) A grant of 1000 pounds perannum was made to him on the 15th of November following. During thelong struggle between the various members of the Royal Family, Yorkalways sided with Gloucester, except when Lancaster was present. In1388 he was co-surety (with Gloucester, Derby, and others) for 5000borrowed from the Londoners for Gloucester's purposes. (_Rot. Pat_. 11R. II, _Part_ 2.) The King visited him at Langley, April 18th, 1389.About September, 1391, he and his brother of Lancaster concluded a trucewith France. His first wife died, and he married the second, in 1393.(See subsequent articles.) He was created Regent of England, for thefirst time, September 29th, 1394, during the King's first voyage toIreland. King Richard relieved him of this charge by returning homeabout May 11th, 1395. His second regency was from August 6th, 1396, toabout November 14th following. It was by the advice of Lancaster andYork--but the latter was really the mere echo of the former,--thatGloucester was arrested, August, 1397. Some of his brother Gloucester'slands were granted to York. After this, both York and Lancaster retiredfrom Court to their own country homes. In 1399, on the death ofLancaster, York was created Steward of England _pro tem_, "until HenryEarl of Derby shall sue for the same." (_Rot. Pat_. 22 R. II, _Part_2.) In May, 1399, he was created Regent for the third and last time.About the 7th of July he met, and at once went over to, his rebelliousand banished nephew, Henry of Lancaster. He was present at Henry theFourth's coronation, and remained a guest at Court for the rest of thatyear, where we find him several times during 1400. On November 25th,1400, he made his will; and in 1401 he was received into the fraternityat Canterbury. His last recorded visit to Court was on the opening ofParliament, January 20th, 1402; and on the following first of August hedied at Langley, aged 61. He was buried in the Church of the FriarsPredicants, Langley. Edmund was unquestionably a weak man, both incharacter and abilities: indeed, Froissart goes so far as to hint thathe was deficient in intellect. (Book four, chapter 73.) His being madeRegent by no means disproves this; for the post was chiefly honorary,and his brother Lionel had filled it when only seven years old. For hiswives see the later articles.

  YORK, EDWARD PLANTAGENET, SECOND DUKE.

  Eldest son of Edmund Duke of York and Isabel of Castilla; born probablyabout New Year's Day, 1373. He accompanied his parents to Portugal inMay, 1382, and was formally affianced to the Infanta Beatriz; but herfather subsequently broke off the engagement, by dispensation from thePope, and married her to the rival King of Castilla. King Richard wasdeeply attached to him, or perhaps rather to the ideal being whom hebelieved him to be. He granted him the stewardship of Bury, January22nd, 1390; created him Earl of Rutland, May 2nd, in the same year; gavehim the reversion of the Constableship of the Tower, January 27th, 13925employed him in embassy to France, February 26th, 1394, and again, July1395; created him Constable of England, July-12th, 1397, and Duke ofAumerle, September 29th, 1397. A grant was made to him from the landsof Archbishop Arundel, September 27th; and his patent as Constable ofthe Tower was renewed, October 30th. In May, 1399, he went with theKing to Ireland. When Lancaster's rebellion broke out, Aumerle merelywaited to make sure which was the winning side, and then went over tohis cousin Henry without a thought of the Sovereign who had styled him"brother," and had been the author of all his prosperity. In the midstof the tumult his patent as Constable of the Tower was once morerenewed, August 31st. At the coronation of Henry the Fourth, Aumerlewas one of the peers who held the canopy. He is named as one of thosewho requested the usurper to put the King to death. How he betrayed hisfriends at Maidenhead Bridge is recounted in the text. Henry the Fourthtrusted Aumerle as he trusted few others, in a manner incomprehensibleto any one acquainted with the character of either. On March 10th,1400, he pardoned Aumerle's debts; then he made him Lord Lieutenant ofIreland; and then Governor of Aquitaine. Edward became Duke of York byhis father's death, August 1st, 1402. The next escapade of thissingular individual was to address to Queen Jeanne a series of verses,painfully laboured, of which the first is the least uncouth, and eventhat halts in the rhyme.

  "Excellent Sovereign seemly to see, Proved prudence peerless of price, Bright blossom of benignity, Of figure fairest, and freshest of days!"

  It is evident that Nature never intended Edward for a poet. His nextadventure was a futile endeavour to scale the wall of Eltham Palace, andseize the King; and the third was his share in Constance's theft of theMortimers. He and his sister were both arrested, and all his lands,goods, and chattels confiscated. He was sent to Pevensey Castle, andthere placed in keeping of Sir John Stanley; but his imprisonment wasnot long, for on the fourth of November he was free and in London.Perhaps his experience was useful in curbing his plotting temper, for hekept very quiet after this, and we hear of him next engaged in a piousand orthodox manner, founding Fotheringay College. York did not sit onthe bench at his brother's trial; he had the grace to prefer a proxy inthe person of Dorset. He made his will August 22nd, 1415, wherein hestyled himself "of all sinners the most wicked;" desired to be buried atFotheringay, and ordered that the expenses of his funeral should notexceed 100 pounds. His death took place at Agincourt, October 25th,1415, in the manner described in the text; and his obsequies werecelebrated at London on the 1st of December. He married Philippa,daughter and co-heir of John Lord Mohun of Dunster, and his wife JoanBurghersh, one of the most eminent Lollards of her day. Philippa wasmarried (1) before March 6th, 1382 (_Reg. Joh'is Ducis Lanc, folio_ 60,_b_), to Walter, Lord Fitzwalter; (2) between 1386 and 1393, to Sir JohnGolafre; (3) after 1397, to Edward Duke of York; and according to someauthors (4) after 1415, to John Vescy. She died July 17th, 1431.(_Inq. Post Mortem_ 10 H. VI, 45; _Ph'ae. Ducissa Ebor_.)

  YORK, ISABEL OF CASTILLA, DUCHESS.

  Third and youngest daughter of Don Pedro the First, surnamed The Cruel,and Maria Padilla, whose marriage is usually considered a fiction bymodern writers, though Pedro himself solemnly affirmed it, and theirdaughters were treated as Princesses through life. Isabel was born atMorales or Tordesillas, in 1355. In 1365, when Don Pedro fled beforehis rebel brother, he was accompanied by his third wife, Juana, and histhree daughters, Beatriz, Constanga, and Isabel. They fled from Sevillato Bayonne, and did not return to Sevilla till 1368, after the victoryof Navareta. After the loss of the battle of Montiel and the murder oftheir father, in 1369, the Princesses were hastily taken again by theirguardi
ans to Bayonne. Constancy was married to John of Gaunt, Duke ofLancaster, at Rochefort, near Bordeaux, about November, 1369. Isabelremained with her sister, and accompanied her to England in 1371. In1372--between January 1st and April 30th--she married Edmund Earl ofCambridge, the brother of her sister's husband. It was at Hertford,March 1st, 1372, that John of Gaunt and Constanca assumed the titles ofKing and Queen of Leon and Castilla; and as sixteen months had thenelapsed since their own marriage, the probability seems to be that thisdate marks the marriage of Isabel, and the consent of her bridegroom tothe exclusive assumption of queenship by the elder sister. (The otherand really eldest sister, Beatriz, had become a nun.) Isabel is alludedto as Edmund's wife on April 30th, 1372. In May, 1381, she accompaniedher husband to Portugal, on an expedition undertaken with the object ofsecuring the recognition of herself and her sister as the true heirs ofCastilla. The expedition failed; and Isabel returned to England withher husband in October, 1382.

  Several pardons appear on the rolls, granted at the instance of Isabel.Dona Juana Fernandez, who appears in the story, was at first one of herdamsels, but in 1377 became Mistress of the Household. Isabel becameDuchess of York, August 6th, 1385. Her will was made December 6th,1389. A grant of 100 pounds was given to her, October 3rd, 1390, to payher debts; but notwithstanding this and further grants of money, she wasstill obliged to borrow 400 from her brother-in-law of Lancaster,January 25th, 1393. This was her last recorded act, for on the third ofFebruary she was dead. (_Rot. Ex. Michs_, 14 R. II; _CompotusSoberti de Whitteby_, 1392-3, _folio_ 19; _Rot. Pat_. 16 R. II, Part3.)--Much misconception exists as to the terms of her will. She isrepresented by some writers as having been driven to provide for her sonRichard by the purchase of the King's favour, having bequeathed all hergoods to his Majesty on a species of compulsion. The fact is that shebequeathed to him her son and her goods together, requesting him toprovide for the one from the proceeds of the other. She made the Kingsimply trustee for her boy, his own godson. And how much King Richardgained or lost by the transaction is set down in plain figures: for thejewels, etcetera, bequeathed by Isabel sold for 666 pounds 13 shillings4 pence--just two years' income of the annuity paid for seven years (therest of his reign) to Richard. (_Rot. Ex, Michs_, 17 R. II.) Themonastic chroniclers speak of Isabel in terms of unqualified contempt--particularly Walsingham, who invariably vilifies a Lollard. And thatshe was a Lollard few can doubt who read her will with attention.Possibly the entire accusation brought against her in early life is acalumny; possibly it is a fact. Many women that _were_ sinners havewashed Christ's feet with tears; and perhaps they will not be found thelowest in the kingdom of Heaven.

  YORK, JOAN DE HOLAND, DUCHESS.

  Second daughter of Thomas Earl of Kent and his wife Alesia de Arundel;sister of Thomas Duke of Surrey, Edmund Earl of Kent, and AlianoraCountess of March; born 1383, married (1) before November 4th, 1393,Edmund Duke of York; (2) William, Lord Willoughby de Eresby,--pardon forunlicenced marriage May 14th, 1409, but named as husband and wife, March26th, 1406; (3) before December 9th, 1410, Henry Lord Scrope of Upsal;(4) Henry de Vescy, Lord Bromflete--pardon for unlicenced marriage,August 14th, 1416. She died April 12th, 1434, aged 51--during theabsence of her husband at the Council of Basel--leaving no issue by anyof her marriages. Her character is shown in several small matters, butabove all in the rancour of her petition against Alianora de Audley, andthe deceit which prompted the putting forward of her younger sisterMargaret in her place. The indication in the story that the device forannulling Constance's marriage proceeded from Joan is suppositious, butby no means improbable.

 
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