the crown when I have never had any, and that you know well?’ ‘Monseigneur,’ replied the Prince,‘just as you have held it and defended it by the sword, so will I defend it all my life.’ Then said the king,‘Do with it as it seemeth good to thee.’”
CHAPTER X
HENRY V
HENRY V. (1387-1422)
From the engraving by Greatbach of the picture at Windsor Castle.
On the night of his father’s funeral, the new King remained in the Abbey. He spent that night in confessing and praying at the cell of the anchorite which was outside the Chapel of Saint Catherine where are now the Little Cloisters. Stanley calls this the Conversion of Henry. That is because Stanley believed all that has been written about the youth of Henry—about his wild days, and his wild companions. But this Prince never existed except in the later popular imagination. That is to say, it has been clearly proved that he was so much occupied in Wales and elsewhere during his youth and early manhood that there was small opportunity for wild revels in London. It must be owned that there has been a persistent tradition of a stormy time in youth, but it seems as if the popular imagination had confused Henry with Edward II. Holinshed, for instance, quotes one:
Ille inter juvenes paulo lascivior ante, Defuncto genitore, gravis constansque repente Moribus ablegat corruptis regis ab aula Assuetos socios, et nugatoribus acrem Poenam (si quisquam sua tecta reviserit) addit, Atque ita mutatus facit omnia principe digna, Ingenio magno post consultoribus usus, etc. (Vol. iii.)
However this may be, Henry was always open to the influences of religion. He was crowned on 9th April, Passion Sunday. The coronation was marred by a heavy thunderstorm with torrents of rain, so that men’s hearts failed them for fear, thinking of what evil things this portent might mean. In the end it was recognised as foreshadowing trouble for the French.
His first act was the removal of King Richard’s body to Westminster with great pomp and state. He was probably induced to perform this pious act by the desire to dissociate himself and his father from any connection with the deposed King’s death. He then, being urged thereto by Archbishop Arundel, arrested Sir John Oldcastle, but first sent for him and caused him to explain his faith and teaching. This Sir John did, declaring the King, and not the Archbishop at all, to be his supreme judge, and offering to purge himself in battle or to bring a hundred knights or esquires for his purgation. The King, however, being advised by his Council, handed him over to be tried by the Spiritual Courts. The trial was held first in St. Paul’s Cathedral, and next in the Hall of the Dominicans. The verdict of the Archbishop was, of course, that Oldcastle was a heretic. He was sent back to the Tower, whence he managed to escape. And then occurred the mysterious plot, which one cannot avoid concluding was no more a plot than any fabricated by Titus Oates. What really happened was this. Sir Roger Acton, a knight “of great wit and possessions,” one John Browne, an esquire, and one John Beverley, Priest, and some others were reported to the King to be gathered together in armour near St. Giles Church. It was also said that they expected reinforcements in large numbers from the City: Holinshed says 50,000 were expected; Walsingham puts the number at 5000. The time of year was soon after Christmas. The King caused the City gates to be closed, then he repaired to Westminster and there getting together a sufficient force, rode out to St. Giles where he found the people assembling at midnight, and falling upon them, either killed or took them all prisoners. Possibly the leaders proposed a Lollard demonstration, armed, no doubt, because every one carried arms for every occasion; certainly, next day the arrest of suspected persons began: in a short time the City prisons were full: those who appeared to be the leaders were tried, some for heresy by the clergy, and some for high treason at the Guildhall. In the end twenty-nine were either hanged or burned, the latter, for the greater terror, gallows and all.
This so-called rising gave an occasion for a more severe statute against the Lollards by which the secular power, no longer contented with carrying out the sentences of the ecclesiastical courts, undertook the initiative against heretics. This points to some kind of panic. Perhaps the clergy had realised the full danger of the Lollard movement. Early in 1415 Henry sent an offer of pardon to Oldcastle if he would make submission. He refused, perhaps distrusting the promise, and, according to Walsingham, prepared for an insurrection as soon as the King should have gone to France. But the King went to France not troubling about Oldcastle: and there was no rising. Probably, therefore, Walsingham imagined or invented this motive. The fires of martyrdom were lit again that same day. Witness the letter written by the Mayor or Aldermen to the King, touching the trial and execution of John Cleydon. The man was a currier by trade: he had in his possession a number of heretical books, for which he was tried by Archbishop Chichele in St. Paul’s on 17th August 1415. The king being then in France, the Mayor himself gave evidence against the prisoner, who was sentenced to be burned with all his books. The case was deemed of sufficient importance to demand a special letter to the King, of which the following is the important part:—
“Forasmuch as the King of all might and the Lord of Heaven, who of late graciously taught your hands to fight, and has guided your feet to battle, has now, during your absence, placed in our hands certain persons who not only were enemies of Him and of your dignity, but also, in so far as they might be, were subverters of the whole of your realm: men commonly known as “Lollards” who for long time have laboured for the subversion of the whole Catholic Faith and of Holy Church, the lessening of public worship, and the destruction of your realm, as also the perpetration of very many other enormities horrible to hear: the same persons, in accordance with the requirements of law, we have unto the Reverend Commissaries of Reverend Father in Christ, and Lord, Richard, by Divine permission, the Lord Bishop of London, by indenture caused to be delivered. Whereupon one John Cleydone, by name, the arch parent of this heretical depravity, was by the most reverend Father in Christ, and Lord, Henry, by Divine permission, the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury, Primate of all your realm and other Bishops, his brethren, as well as very many Professors of Holy Scripture and Doctors of Laws, in accordance with the canonical sanctions, by sentence in this behalf lawfully pronounced, as being a person relapsed into heresy, which before had been by him abjured, left in the hands of the secular Court: for the execution of whose body, and the entire destruction of all such enemies, with all diligence, to the utmost of our power we shall be assisting.” (Riley’s Memorials, p. 617.)
We may perhaps see in this letter the desire of the City Fathers to clear themselves from any suspicion of Lollardy. The worthy citizens did not desire a reform in church doctrine so much as a return to simple measures and holy living.
SHIPS AT LA ROCHELLE, 1372
From Froissart’s Chronicles.
For two years Oldcastle led a wandering life with a few companions. He was once nearly taken at St. Albans, where the Abbot’s servants heard of him and went out to arrest him. He got away, but some of his servants were caught: and they found books of devotion upon them in which the painted heads of the Saints had been scraped off: the names of the Virgin and of the saints had been blotted: and divers writings had been made up and down the page in derogation of honour paid to the Virgin and to the Saints. These books were displayed at Paul’s Cross to illustrate the extreme wickedness of Lollardy. At length Sir John Oldcastle was taken by Sir Edward Charlton, Lord of Powis. So much importance was attached to the capture that Charlton received a reward of 1000 marks. There does not appear to have been the slightest grounds for representing this great and noble man, a hundred and fifty years in advance of his age, as a traitor, a conspirator, or in any sense hostile to the King. He was free for two years to work his conspiracies and he refrained. But he was always active in disseminating Lollard teaching. In 1417 he was hung on a gallows by chains, and was, it is said, slowly burned to death, at St. Giles, close to the south end of the present Tottenham Court Road. Like so many martyrs, like Latimer, like Cranmer, like Ridley, he was sustained through the fiery torment by the steadfast faith