Shakespeare's Kings (19 page)

It
seems
extraordinary,
in
retrospect,
that
the
Duke
of
Lancaster
should have
been
allowed
to
leave
the
country
with
a
sizeable
army
at
precisely the
moment
that
a
huge
French
army
was
gathering
at
Sluys
for
an invasion
from
across
the
Channel.
As
the
summer
took
its
course
all the
coastal
towns
of
the
south-east
were
put
on
the
alert,
with
orders to
repair
their
walls
as
necessary
and
to
keep
a
close
watch
for
anything untoward
at
sea.
But
September
came
and
went
without
any
attempt at
a
landing,
and
by
the
time
Parliament
met
at
Westminster
on
i October
it
was
clear
that
none
could
be
expected
that
year
and
that,
in the
words
of
one
recent
historian,
'the
luxury
of
a
domestic
crisis might
safely
be
enjoyed'.
¹
Tension,
nevertheless,
was
running
high,
and tempers
were
correspondingly
short
—
particularly
after
the
Chancellor
* Michael
de
la
Pole,
now
Earl
of
Suffolk,
had
demanded
yet
another huge
subsidy
for
the
defence
of
the
realm.
High
taxation
is
always unpopular;
a
scapegoat
had
to
be
found
somewhere,
and
Suffolk
was held
responsible
for
all
England's
misfortunes.
Lords
and
Commons together
sent
a
delegation
to
the
King
in
his
Palace
of
Eltham
²
calling for
the
Chancellor's
dismissal,
together
with
that
of
the
Treasurer,
John Fordham,
Bishop
of
Durham.
The
message
may
have
been
a
trifle peremptory,
but
the
delegates
were
certainly
not
prepared
for
the
King's reply.
At
Parliament's
request,
he
told
them,
he
would
not
remove
a scullion
from
his
kitchen.

It
was
a
characteristically
foolish
reaction:
Richard
had
antagonized the
estates
unnecessarily,
while
in
no
way
deflecting
them
from
their purpose.
They
could
hardly
have
expected
him
to
obey
their
subsequent summons
to
appear
before
them
in
person,
but
eventually
a
compromise was
reached,
the
King
agreeing
to
receive
a
deputation
of
forty
knights at
Eltham
to
hear
their
complaints.
He
would
certainly
have
found
the forty
easier
to
deal
with
than
the
two
who
finally
came
in
their
stead: his
uncle
the
Duke
of
Gloucester,
and
the
latter's
close
friend
and associate
Thomas
Arundel,
Bishop
of
Ely,
brother
of
the
hated
Earl Richard.
Such
men
were
not
to
be
intimidated;
and
Gloucester
in particular
-
now
thirty-one
and
twelve
years
older
than
the
King
-
had no
intention
of
allowing
himself
to
be
pushed
aside
by
the
arrogant
and

effeminate
young
striplings
with
whom
his
nephew
chose
to
surround himself.
His
anger
had
been
further
increased
a
day
or
two
previously when
Richard
had,
in
his
eyes,
cheapened
his
own
rece
ntly
acquired title
by
making
Robert
de
Vere
Duke
of
Ireland
-
dukedoms,
as
the King
very
well
knew,
being
normally
reserved
for
princes
of
the
blood. Making
it
clear
from
the
outset
that
he
spoke
not
just
for
himself
but on
behalf
of
Lords
and
Commons
alike,
Gloucester
reminded
the
King that
he
was
legally
obliged
to
summon
Parliament
once
a
year
and
to be
present
himself
at
its
deliberations;
if
he
were
not,
it
would
be
invalid and
its
members
could
disperse
after
forty
days.
Richard
at
first
tried
to bluster.
Accusing
his
uncle
of
plotting
a
rebellion,
he
threatened
to
call his
kinsman,
the
King
of
France,
to
his
aid
-
to
which
Gloucester merely
pointed
out
that
if
he
were
to
do
so,
Charles
would
seize
the opportunity
to
destroy
not
the
King's
enemies,
but
the
King
himself. If
Richard
wished
to
keep
his
crown,
he
must
mend
his
ways.
Not only
must
he
dismiss
Suffolk
and
Fordham;
he
must
drastically
reduce taxation,
rid
his
court
of
his
vain,
vapid
and
insanely
extravagant henchmen
and
govern
as
a
responsible
monarch
should.
If
he
did
not, Parliament
had
a
remedy
in
its
own
hands,
sanctified
'by
ancient
statute and
recent
precedent'.

Gloucester
was
bluffing:
there
was
in
fact
no
statute
authorizing the
deposition
of
a
King,
and
Edward
II's
dethronement
had
been unconstitutional.
But
the
precedent,
legal
or
not,
was
plain
enough, and
those
last
two
words
had
their
effect.
It
was
only
sixty
years
since the
King's
great-grandfather
Edward
II,
having
been
found
manife
stly
unfit
to
rule,
had
been
forcibly
removed
from
his
throne.
He
too
had been
brought
low
by
his
favourites,
and
Richard
had
no
desire
to follow
in
the
same
path.
Sullenly
he
returned
to
Westminster,
attended Parliament
on
23
October
and
dismissed
Suffolk
and
Fordham,
replacing them
with
the
Bishops
of
Ely
and
Hereford
respectively.
Suffolk
was impeached,
but
the
seven
charges
against
him
were
so
trivial
as
to
be almost
derisory,
four
of
them
being
dismissed
and
the
other
three
upheld only
on
technicalities.
His
nominal
prison
sentence
was
served
at Windsor
Castle
,
and
was
soon
forgotten
altogether.

So
far
the
King
had
escaped
comparatively
li
ghtly
;
but
worse
was
to follow.
On
20
November
1386
Parliament
appointed
'a
Great
and Continual
Council',
with
the
declared
object
of
getting
rid
of
the favourites
once
and
for
all,
reforming
the
administration
and
taking whatever
measures
might
be
thought
necessary
against
the
enemy.
Its composition
was
in
fact
moderate
enough.
Of
its
fourteen
commissioners
only
three
—
Gloucester
and
the
two
Arundels
—
were implacably
opposed
to
the
King;
the
Archbishop
of
York,
Alexander Nevill,
was
a
committed
royalist,
and
the
other
ten
were
reasonable men
with
whom
accommodation
should
not
have
been
difficult.
Far more
worrying
was
the
extent
of
its
powers.
It
had
full
control
over the
great
and
privy
seals
and
everything
relating
to
finance;
the
King, moreover,
was
forced
to
swear
that
he
would
abide
by
all
its
ordinances, even
if
voted
by
a
bare
majority,
and
that
he
would
immediately denounce
anyone
who
advised
him
to
move
against
it.
There
was
one small
consolation:
the
Council
had
been
empowered
to
act
for
twelve months
only.
If
Richard
had
agreed
to
accept
it
with
a
good
grace, there
is
every
likelihood
that
it
would
have
dissolved
itself
when
its term
was
completed.