done. The answers of the judges to the ques- | Henry of Bolingbroke, now Duke of Hereford, tions put at Nottingham, which had then been and Mowbray, now Duke of Norfolk, were the punished as acts of high treason, were now pro- only two that remained of the five appellants of nounced to be just and legal. It was declared 1386. To all outward appearance they enjoyed high treason to attempt to repeal or overturn the favour and confidence of the king; but they any judgment now passed; and the issue male of both knew that their original sin had never been all the persons who had been condemned were forgiven. The Duke of Norfolk seems to have declared for ever incapable of sitting in parlia- been the more alarmed or the more communicament or holding office in council. "These violent tive of the two. Overtaking the Duke of Hereordinances, as if the precedent they were then ford, who was riding on the road between Windoverturning had not shielded itself with the same sor and London, in the month of December, sanction, were sworn to by parliament upon the during the recess of parliament, Mowbray said, cross of Canterbury, and confirmed by a national "We are about to be ruined." Henry of Bolingoath, with the penalty of excommunication de- broke asked, "For what?" and Mowbray said, nounced against its infringers.' Before this "For the affair of Radcot Bridge." "How can obsequious parliament separated, it set the dan- that be after his pardon and declaration in parlia gerous precedent of granting the king a subsidy, ment?" "He will annul that pardon," said Mowfor life, upon wool; and a commission was granted bray," and our fate will be like that of others before for twelve peers and six commoners to sit after us." And then he went on to assure Hereford that the dissolution, and examine and determine cer- there was no trust to be put in Richard's promises tain matters as to them should seem best. These or oaths, or demonstrations of affection, and that eighteen commissioners usurped the entire rights he knew of a certainty that he and his minions of the legislature: they imposed a perpetual oath were then compassing the deaths of the Dukes of on prelates and lords, to be taken before obtain- Lancaster, Hereford, Albemarle, and Exeter, the ing possession of their estates, that they would Marquis of Dorset, and of himself. Henry then maintain the statutes and ordinances made by said, "If such be the case, we can never trust them;" this parliament, or afterwards by the lords and to which Mowbray rejoined, "So it is, and though knights having power committed to them by the they may not be able to do it now, they will consame; and they declared it to be high treason to trive to destroy us in our houses ten years hence.” disobey any of their ordinances. Thus, with the vote of a revenue for life, and with the power of parliament notoriously usurped by a junto of his creatures, Richard became as absolute as he could wish. "In those days," says Froissart, "there was none so great in England that durst speak against anything that the king did. He had a council suitable to his fancies, who exhorted him to do what he list: he kept in his wages 10,000 archers, who watched over him day and night." This high and absolute bearing was, however, of short duration. The people were soon disgusted with Richard, who appeared only to crave power and money that he might lavish them on his minions, and indulge himself in an indolent and luxurious life.

A general murmur was soon raised against the late parliament: people said that it had not been freely chosen; that it had with bad faith and barbarity revoked former pardons and connived at illegal exactions; that it had been a party to the shameful impunity of the murderers of Gloucester; and that it had assisted the king in destroying the liberties of the kingdom. Matters were approaching this state when the mutual distrusts of two great noblemen, and the fears they both entertained of the cunning and vindictive spirit of the king, hurried on the catastrophe.

1 IIallam, Middle Ages.

This reign, as abounding in dark and treacherous transactions, is rich in historical doubts. It is not clear how this conversation was reported to Richard, but the damning suspicion rests upon Henry of Bolingbroke. When parliament met after the recess, in the month of January, 1398, Hereford was called upon by the king to relate what had passed between the Duke of Norfolk and himself; and then Hereford rose and presented in writing the whole of the conversation. Norfolk did not attend in parliament, but he surrendered on proclamation, called Henry of Lancaster a liar and false traitor, and threw down his gauntlet. Richard ordered both parties into custody, and instead of submitting the case to parliament, referred it to a court of chivalry, which, after many delays, awarded that wager of battle should be joined at Coventry, on the 16th of September. As the time approached, Richard was heard to say, "Now I shall have peace from henceforward;" but, on the appointed day, when the combatants were in the lists, and had couched their lances, throwing down his warder between them, he took the battle into his own hands. After consulting with the committee of parliament-the base eighteen-to the bewilderment of all men, he condemned Hereford to banishment for ten years, and Norfolk for life. Here

2 Rot. Parl. This is the account which Hereford gave in parliament.

a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and died broken-hearted at Venice.

ford went no further than France: Norfolk made | rapid was his course that he reached the Severn not long after on the same day as the regent. The Duke of On the death of York had discovered before this that he could the Duke of Lancaster, which happened about place no reliance on his troops: and probably his three months after the exile of his son Here- resentment for the murder of his brother Glouford, Richard seized his immense estates and cester was greater than his affection for his kept them, notwithstanding his having, before nephew Richard. Henry of Bolingbroke was Hereford's departure out of England, granted him also his nephew, and when he agreed to meet letters-patent, permitting him to appoint attor- that master-mind in a secret conference, the effect neys to represent him and take possession of his was inevitable. York joined his forces to those lawful inheritance.' But now there was no law of Henry, and helped him to take Bristol Castle. in the land except what proceeded from the Three members of the standing committee of will of Richard, who, after ridding himself, as eighteen, the Earl of Wiltshire, Bussy, and Green, he fancied, for ever, of the two great peers, set were found in the castle, and executed without no limits to his despotism. He raised money by trial. Henry then marched towards Chester, forced loans; he coerced the judges, and in order but York stopped at Bristol. to obtain fines, he outlawed seventeen counties by one stroke of the pen, alleging that they had favoured his enemies in the affair of Radcot Bridge. He was told by some friends that the country was in a ferment, and that plots aud conspiracies were forming against him; but the infatuated man chose this very moment for leaving England. In the end of the month of May, 1399, he sailed from Milford Haven with a splendid fleet. He took the field against the Irish on the 20th of June, and a fortnight after, his cousin, the Duke of Hereford, landed at Ravenspur in Yorkshire. The duke had not escaped from France without difficulty, and all the retinue he brought with him consisted of the exiled Archbishop of Canterbury, the son of the late Earl of Arundel, fifteen knights and men-atarms, and a few servants.

But the wily Henry was strong in the affections of the people: and both he and the archbishop had many personal friends among the nobles. As soon as he landed, he was joined by the Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland; and as he declared that he only came for the estates belonging to his father, he was speedily reinforced by many who did not foresee, and who, at that stage, would not have approved, his full and daring scheme. He marched with rapidity towards the capital, and arrived there at the head of 60,000 men. His uncle, the Duke of York, quitted the city before his approach, and, as regent of the kingdom during Richard's absence, raised the royal standard at St. Alban's. The Londoners received Hereford as a deliverer. A general panic prevailed among the creatures of Richard, some of whom shut themselves up in Bristol Castle. The Duke of York, with such forces as he could collect, moved towards the west, there to await the arrival of Richard. After staying a few days in London, Henry marched in the same direction, and so

1 Rot. Parl.; Rymer.

For three weeks Richard remained ignorant of all that was passing. Contrary winds and storms are made to bear the blame of this omission, but it is probable that some of the messengers had proved unfaithful. When he received the astounding intelligence, his first remark was, that he sorely regretted not having put Henry to death, as he might have done. From Dublin he despatched the Earl of Salisbury with part of his forces, and then he repaired himself to Waterford, with the intention of crossing over with the rest. Salisbury landed at Conway, and was reinforced by the Welsh; but the king did not appear so soon as was expected, and the earl was soon deserted by his whole army, both Welsh and English. A few days after, when Richard at last arrived at Milford Haven, he was stunned by bad news of every kind; and on the second day after his landing, the few thousands of troops which he had brought with him deserted him almost to a man. At midnight, disguised as a priest, and accompanied only by his two halfbrothers, Sir Stephen Scroop, his chancellor, the Bishop of Carlisle, and nine other individuals, he fled to Conway, to seek refuge in the strong castle there. At Conway he found the Earl of Salisbury and about one hundred men, who, it appears, had already consumed the slender stock of provisions laid up in the fortress. Richard then despatched his two half-brothers to Chester, Henry's head-quarters, to ascertain what were his intentions. Henry put them under arrest. Soon after sending them, Richard rode to the castles of Beaumaris and Caernarvon: they were both bare of provisions, and he returned in despair to Conway Castle. A romantic and touching story is usually told, on the faith of two anonymous manuscripts, according to which Richard was lured from his stronghold by the ingenious treachery of the Earl of Northumberland; but we are inclined to believe that famine

2 Walsingham.

drove him from Conway Castle, and that, in a | Northumberland, two justices, two doctors of hopeless state, he surrendered to Northumber-laws, with many others, ecclesiastics and laymen,

CONWAY CASTLE.-Drawn by J. S. Prout, from his sketch on the spot.

waited on the king in the Tower, who there, according to the reporters, made, "with a cheerful countenance," a formal renunciation of the crown, acknow. ledged his unfitness for government, and gave his royal ring to his cousin Henry. Whether all this passed as thus stated by the triumphant party of Lancaster is of little consequence, and Henry was too sagacious to rest his title to the crown upon what could never be considered in any other light than that of a compulsory resignation. On Tuesday,

ing met in Westminster Hall, the resignation of Richard was read. All the members then stood up, and signified their acceptance of it. Thirtythree articles of impeachment against Richard were afterwards read, and being declared guilty on every charge, his deposition was pronounced. Thus a deposition was added to an act of abdication."

land. At the castle of Flint, Henry of Boling- | the 30th day of September, the parliament havbroke met him and bent his knee, as to his sovereign. "Fair cousin of Lancaster," said Richard, uncovering his head, "you are right welcome." "My lord," answered Henry, "I am come somewhat before my time; but I will tell you the reason. Your people complain that you have ruled them harshly for twenty-two years: but, if it please God, I will help you to rule them better." The fallen king replied, "Fair cousin, since it pleaseth you, it pleaseth me well." The trumpets then sounded to horse, and, mounted on a miserable hackney, Richard rode a prisoner to Chester. No one appeared to pity his fate. At Lichfield, while on the way from Chester to the capital, the king eluded the vigilance of his guards, and escaped out of a window; but he was retaken, and from that time treated with greater severity, and on their arrival in London he was thrown into the Tower. While at Chester, writs were issued in Richard's name for the meeting of parliament on the 29th of Sept. On the day of that meeting, a deputation of lords and commons, which included the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Earl of

1 This castle, one of the finest in Britain, was founded in 1284 by Edward I. It is in form nearly a parallelogram, extending along the verge of a precipitous rock on the south-east side of the town: two of the sides are within the town walls, the third overhangs the estuary of the Conway, and the fourth a small stream tributary to the Conway. The walls are of from 12 ft. to 15 ft. in thickness, and are flanked on the town sides by four great circular embattled towers, with turrets rising from them. The grand entrance was from the west towards the town, and there was an access from the river by an advanced work, and a narrow flight of steps cut in the rock. The interior consists of two courts. The great hall measures 130 ft. in length, 82 ft. in breadth, and about 30 ft. in height; but its extent can only be gathered from fragments of its ruin, and few vestiges of the other apartments can be traced. When most of the other

As soon as eight commissioners had proclaimed the sentence of deposition, Henry approached the throne, and having solemnly crossed himself, said, "In the name of God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I, Henry of Lancaster, challenge this realm of England, because I am descended by right line of blood from the good lord, King Henry III., and through that right, God of his grace hath sent me, with help of my kin and of my friends, to recover it; the which realm was in point to be undone for default of government and undoing of the good laws." He knelt for a few minutes in prayer on the steps, and then was seated on the throne by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York.'

castles in Wales were dismantled by the parliament, this noble edifice was respected; but the roof and floors were afterwards removed by the Earl of Conway, to whom, after the Restoration, it was granted. A large breach at the base of one of the towers has been made by the town's-people undermining it when digging for slates. Other parts of the castle are greatly damaged by the same practice.

2 From the Harleian MS. 1319, a History of the Deposition of Richard II., in French verse, professing to be "composed by a French gentleman of mark, who was in the suite of the said king, with permission of the King of France." The whole of the poem is printed in the Archeologia, with an English translation, and ample explanatory notes, by the Rev. John Webb, M.A., F.A.S., rector of Tretire, in Herefordshire.

3 Rot. Parl.; Knyght.; Brady.

CHAPTER VIII.-HISTORY OF RELIGION.

A.D. 1216-1399.

Resistance to the Papacy commenced throughout Europe-Encroachments of the Roman pontiffs in England-The kingdon drained of its wealth by foreign ecclesiastics-Power of dispensation assumed by the popes-Monasteries and monastic orders-Crusades-They are succeeded by the Inquisition-State of the English church in the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I.--Restraints laid upon ecclesiastical jurisdiction-Prohibitions upon Papal bulls, and sending money to Rome-Progress of religious liberty-Preaching of Wyckliffe-Its effect in loosening the Papal rule-His doctrines-His writings-His translation of the Scriptures-His death-Persecution of his ashes,

(1) DOMINICAN AND (2) FRANCISCAN FRIAR.-Dugdale's Monasticon.

established in 1223. Of many other orders which soon sprung up in imitation of these, and which carried still farther the principle of poverty and abnegation, none took a lasting root in England except the Carmelites or White Friars, and the Augustines. These mendicant orders were filled by youths and men drawn from the poorer classes of society; they had no lands, but begged from door to door for the food they ate and for the money which purchased their coarse dress, and