LA PRINSE ET MORT DU ROY RICHART D'ANGLETERRE

[fo. 2r.] Figure I: Creton makes obeisance to Jean de Montaigu, the first owner of H.

§1 Lines 1–68. Creton arrives in England and accompanies King Richard to Ireland.

When cold Winter has taken his leave¹ and Spring clothes the world in green again, and when bushes and flowers bloom in profusion in the fields, and birds sing sweetly for joy, you can hear the song of the nightingale which makes the hearts of lovers happy and carefree.

Five days before the first day of May,² when every man should cast aside sorrow and sadness, a knight³ whom I dearly loved, said tenderly to me,

‘My friend, I fondly beg that you will willingly accompany me to England; I wish to go there, and that right soon.’

[fo. 2v.] I replied,

‘Sire, fear not, you may command me, I am ready to bend my will to yours.’

The knight thanked me one hundredfold, saying,

‘Brother, we should certainly leave soon; for certain we should make haste.’

This was in the year fourteen hundred less one, that full of joy we left Paris, riding all day long, without delay until we came to London. There we took lodging one Wednesday, in time for our repast. Many a knight could be seen leaving the town, for good King Richard had set out with the Steward;⁴ he rode hard, for his aim was to cross the salty sea,⁵ on account of the troubles and vexations that his mortal foes in Ireland had caused him. They had killed many of his closest friends,⁶ which meant that the King would never rest until [fo. 3r.] he had taken ample vengeance on McMurrough,⁷ who calls himself king and lord of Ireland (where there is scarcely any meadow or open land).

Therefore the King urges his men to press forward, so that it can soon be reported that he is come to the port of Milford Haven which is richly provisioned. There we remained in joy and pleasure for ten whole days awaiting a north wind that we might depart. The sound of many minstrels playing trumpets day and night could be heard, men-at-arms coming from all parts to load the ships with bread and wine, cows and calves, salt meat and many casks of water, and to hoist fine horses on board; no man failed to prepare his baggage. Good King Richard took leave of the ladies⁸ and set off in fine array on the eleventh day.

§2 Lines 69–120. Richard arrives in Waterford and moves on to Kilkenny.

Then without further delay the sailors hoisted sail, with such address that within two days we could see the tower of Waterford⁹ [fo. 3v.] in Ireland. The people I saw were ill-favoured and wretched; some were ragged, others girt with a rope, some lived in holes in the ground, others in hovels. They were made to carry great burdens and to wade into the water up to their waists for the speedy unloading of the barges,¹⁰ as the King and his men were already in the town, where he was well received by the common people and the merchants.

Six days later the King and his Englishmen took to the field.¹¹ They rode in closed ranks, bold and unafraid, as far as Kilkenny, eighty miles¹² into the country and close to the enemy. There the King and his friends spent fourteen days awaiting reinforcement from the earl of Rutland,¹³ who henceforth led a life of evil doing and deceit.

On setting out every man was victualled as well as he could be with bread, wine and wheat. Very early in the morning of St John's Eve¹⁴ [fo. 4r.] the King set out, heading straight for McMurrough, who refused to bend the knee to him, rather did he declare himself rightful king of Ireland and said that war would dog Richard's steps; he would defend his country with his last breath, Richard was wrong to want to wrest it from him. Thereupon the King set out to hunt him through the rocky, barren places, for he lived in the woods. He lived that way in all seasons and had with him – it was said – 3,000 men, so bold and resourceful that I never saw the like before; it seemed to me that they had very little fear of the English.

§3 Lines 121–184. Henry of Monmouth is knighted. The Irish refuse to join battle; Richard attempts to burn them out.

The king's entire army drew up in good order where the tall trees began and every man made himself ready, for at that moment they thought that they would join battle. However, the Irish kept out of sight at this time; I know this to be true. Then the King commanded that everything round about should be burned, [fo. 4v.] the decision was taken that everything should be set alight, to lessen the grip of the Irish; many villages and houses were burned.

While this was being done, the King – who bears leopards¹⁵ on his arms – had the men drawn up in ranks, and pennons and standards hoisted. Then with great good will and without unpleasantness he had the son of the duke of Lancaster¹⁶ sent for; he was a fine, handsome young man. Thereupon he made him a knight,¹⁷ saying to him,

‘Fair cousin, may you henceforth be valiant and brave, for you will be of little worth if you do not fight and win.’

[fo. 5r.] Figure II: King Richard knights Henry of Monmouth.

To heap more honours on him and to increase his well-being and pleasure, in order that he might remember this day for a long time to come, the King created more knights, eight or ten of them, but as to their names,¹⁸ I truly know nothing. I was not much concerned with them or anything about them, considering that Grief, Torment and Care had entirely taken up residence in my heart, and that Regret had robbed me of Joy; why this was, I would never say. Thus did I ride with them and watch everything they did, so that [fo. 5v.] in time to come I could relate what happened, and how cold-hearted high treason soon ensued, as you will hear.¹⁹

But before that you will hear of the victory enjoyed by the King who remained with his men, encamped in tents facing the woods. Everyone was preparing to move on, when two thousand and five hundred good men living thereabouts came to cut down the trees, both tall and low-growing, for there were no roads; no one, no matter how many bold and brave men he had, could ever get through, so dangerous are the woods. And do you know that in many places the woods are so deep that, if a man does not take care to watch where he steps, he will sink in up to his waist or be swallowed up altogether? For this reason none can catch the Irish, it is their refuge.

§4 Lines 185–320. The Irish harass the English troops who endure starvation. McMurrough's uncle pleads for mercy and the earl of Gloucester is sent to parley with McMurrough.

Thus we got through the woods cautiously, as the Irish were very afraid of our arrows. They screamed and shouted so loudly that I think [fo. 6r.] you would have heard them a good league off. They were almost beside themselves with anguish on account of the archers who were often face to face with them. The Irish made many attacks on the vanguard and dealt out so many blows with their spears that they struck right through coats of mail and plates of armour. They killed many of the English when they went foraging, without waiting for the standard to be raised,²⁰ for the native horses speed more swiftly over hill and vale than does a leaping stag. This is why they inflicted great harm on the King's men; his brave design was to subdue into servitude such men, who were little more than savages.

And then McMurrough's own craven uncle came one day to beg mercy from the King and to fall at his feet; he had a halter round his neck and bore a naked spear,²¹ there were many others wearing this livery, naked, barefoot, unkempt and close to death. [fo. 6v.] When the King saw them he was minded to be merciful, saying,

‘Friends, in short I pardon the injuries which you have done me, provided that every man swears that henceforth he will be true to me.’

Willingly they all grant his demand. When this had been done, he sent to McMurrough – who claimed to be king of Ireland (where there are many woods and little open land) – saying that if he were to come to him, a rope around his neck, like his uncle, he would grant him clemency and give him land and castles in another part of the country. McMurrough told the King's messengers that he would not comply, not for all the gold here or overseas, rather he would carry war and torment to him. He knew very well that the English had scarcely a thing to eat, for even if one were to go mad in the attempt, one would not have found a pennyworth of food to buy, unless one had brought it along.

The army had to remain like this for eleven days, without finding anything [fo. 7r.] except a little oats, and not much of that, for the horses, who were often bedded in the fields, frozen in the wind and rain; many died of hunger, men too, big and small. You could not begin to comprehend the suffering endured by the English, who failed to get the better of McMurrough; he made them suffer greatly again from starvation. One day I saw for certain sure that four or six men had only one loaf between them; some men ate no bread for five whole days. Which men were these? Knights and squires. As for myself I would rather have been penniless in Poitiers or Paris, for in that place was no Delight or Laughter, but in their stead Hardship, Suffering and Danger; Grief took the honoured place of Joy.

The army would not have stayed there any longer for anything, but then three ships rode the waves from Dublin, where there was abundance of supplies and food.

[fo. 7v.] Figure III: Three ships arrive from Dublin.

Men fought to get hold of some of it, they jumped into the water as if it were straw. Everyone paid out his penny or his halfpenny, some on drink, others on food; everything was plundered without delay. More than a thousand men were drunk that day, seeing that the wines were from Alsace and also from Spain, a fine country; there were many punches and blows traded.

Nevertheless the King set out early the next morning directly towards Dublin, ignoring the harassment from the enemy. [fo. 8r.] Then McMurrough sent to the King a beggar, who announced that McMurrough wanted to be his friend and to plead for mercy with clasped hands; also that the King should send to him a loyal and trustworthy lord to negotiate peace, so that their enmity, which for long had been pitiless, might be brought to an end. This news gladdened many hearts in the King's army, for everyone wanted peace. He asked his Council for their advice, and what would be the best thing to do. They quickly agreed that, considering his good name and reputation, the earl of Gloucester²² – an honourable man – should go and should spell out to McMurrough the great injury he has done to the King and what this amounts to. Gloucester took his leave of the King and led off the rearguard, of which he was captain. There were 200 lancers – I tell you – and 1,000 archers, I never saw better. I went with them, for I wanted to see²³ [fo. 8v.] the prestige, estate, strength and power of McMurrough, and how the earl would do his duty to find peace.

§5 Lines 321–388. The meeting between Gloucester and McMurrough.

I saw McMurrough ride down the hillside between two woods, quite some way from the sea, and there were a great number of Irishmen with him, more than I can reckon. He had a very fine horse, with neither saddle nor pommel, which they said had cost him 400 cows, there being little money in that country; for this reason they are accustomed just to barter with animals. The horse galloped more swiftly downhill than ever did I see any hare, stag, sheep or other animal, I tell you this for certain. In McMurrough's right hand he carried a spear which was long and stout and which he could launch with telling effect; you can see his portrait painted right here, just the way he looked.²⁴

[fo. 9r.] Figure IV: McMurrough gallops downhill out of the woods.

But his people were held back in front of the wood, like a look-out. The meeting between the two of them took place near a stream. There stood McMurrough, a fine-looking man: he was tall and very quick on his feet; as you can see he was strong, fierce and war-like, and a man of action. He and the earl talked about the situation; the earl said how McMurrough had several times inflicted harm and mischief on the King, and how all those had forsworn their oath who cruelly killed the noble earl of March²⁵ without benefit of law. [fo. 9v.] They then talked on and repeated what had been said, but came to no agreement; their leave-taking was short and abrupt.

They went their separate ways, and the earl went back to King Richard, for he was very impatient to tell him what he has done and his innermost thoughts: how all McMurrough wants is to treat for mercy, being assured beforehand that he will be pardoned unconditionally, without any other punishment or imprisonment, or otherwise he will never make peace for as long as he lives; and will resolve to get the upper hand, if he wants to.

These words were not pleasing to the King, whose face paled with anger, it seemed to me. In great wrath he swore by St Edward²⁶ that he would never leave Ireland until he captured him, dead or alive. Alas! He knew nothing of the great harm and deadly actions that were being directed against him by those from whom he expected support at all times. [fo. 10r.] And Fortune, who rules the world contrariwise, intended to cut short his course, turning his joy into grief in a very short time.

§6 Lines 389–624. Richard advances on Dublin. The earl of Rutland arrives. Six weeks of bad weather ensue, then news of Henry Lancaster's invasion is received. Salisbury is sent to Conway, Creton goes too.

The army struck camp without delay, for nothing worth a fig could be found to eat there at that time. Thus we marched directly to Dublin,²⁷ a fine town situated by the sea. There was such an abundance of goods and gear that throughout the King's army, it was said, no flesh nor fish was henceforth expensive, no bread, wheat, nor wine, nor other provision. I know full well that there were more than 30,000 men there; all their misfortunes were quite forgotten, and their great suffering also. We were there for more than two weeks, as happy as fish in water. Dublin was the foremost town in Ireland for provisions.

The King could not forget McMurrough. He had three parties of his men made up to hunt for him. He urged them [fo. 10v.] to do their utmost, saying that he would willingly give 100 marks of fine gold to whoever captures him – everyone bears this in mind, as it sounds very good – and should they be unable to catch him, Jesus granting him health, when autumn comes and the trees are stripped of leaves, the King will have all the woods, great and small, burned down; thus will McMurrough be caught – I think – and not otherwise.

On this very day²⁸ the false earl of Rutland arrived with his men in one hundred barges fitted out nobly for war. At this time he was Constable of England and duke of Aumale (where he has fine estates). He could ask anything he wanted of the King for – so help me God – there was no man in the world whom he loved more: brother, uncle or cousin, young or old. The King was very joyful and heartened at his coming. Several times he asked him:

‘Constable, where have you tarried so long? Why have you not come to us sooner?’

[fo. 11r.] He made his excuses boldly in front of everyone. The King was happy because he was humble and gentle towards him, even although he had done the opposite of what he said he had done, which earned him many curses.

Thus²⁹ did we spend six weeks³⁰ in Dublin in transports of delight, without hearing reliable news from England, for no matter what risks were run, shipping could not make port safely. The wind was so unfavourable from all directions and the storms at sea so violent³¹ that I thought Our Lord was angry with the King, for meanwhile the duke³² captured the greater part of England so unaccountably that I never heard of anything worse in my life; you will hear the tale, provided I do not wander off the point.

A little later the sea was calmed. When it pleased the King who governs all down here, there came a barge which drew tears from many eyes. Those on board related to the King how the duke had had his Treasurer³³ executed [fo. 11v.] and how, when he first arrived on his estates, he had the noble Archbishop of Canterbury³⁴ preach to people, saying,

‘ “Good people, listen all to me. You know how the King unjustly and without cause banished³⁵ your lord Henry; for this reason I have won a judgement from the Holy Father, who is our benefactor: all those who help him – be certain of this – will have remission of all the sins with which they have been sullied since the time of their baptism. And here is the papal bull³⁶ that the Pope in the holy city of Rome has sent me for you all, good friends.

[fo. 12r.] Figure V: The Archbishop of Canterbury, holding the papal bull, preaches from the pulpit.

Help him then to defeat his enemies and you will be with those who are in Paradise when you die.”

‘Then you could have seen young and old, weak and strong, start to murmur and with one accord, with no heed to right or wrong, rise up in rebellion, thinking that what they had been told was the truth. They all believed it to be true, for such people have scarcely any sense or knowledge. The archbishop thought up this scheme because no one dared to join the rebellion, for everyone feared your anger, dear Sire. [fo. 12v.] When the sermon was finished they started fleeing to the duke, to overthrow and destroy you and ravage your country in several ways: capturing towns and castles in his name, subjecting young and old to his sway; certainly nothing that can be carried away is left for the poor. For God's sake, make haste, Sire, to thwart his criminal plans, that is my advice.’

The King's face grew pale with anger and he said:

‘Come here, my friends. Good God, does this man intend to take my country from me?’

He had the young men and elders of his Council brought together to decide on the best response to these events. They agreed one Saturday to set sail the following Monday without any further delay. When the duke of Aumale³⁷ heard that they were to leave, an evil thought entered his mind: he decided secretly that if he could, he would arrange otherwise.

He came in private to the King to undo [fo. 13r.] what all the others had done, saying,

‘Sire, may it please you, I have never heard such bad faith. Do not make haste to depart, it would be much better to take time to gather shipping, for we do not have a hundred barges.³⁸ How can we set out, considering that in the sea here are rocks like mountains, and the sea-bed is dangerous? Come, it would be much better to send the earl of Salisbury³⁹ over there. He will hold the field against the duke and carry battle to him; he will have all the Welsh to fight him. Meanwhile we will go by land to Waterford. There you will send for shipping from all ports, so that, weak and strong, all your army can make the crossing. You will soon see your enemies captured and killed or defeated; be assured and confident of this.’

The King believed him more than all his friends, the other advice was completely overthrown by his.

[fo. 13v.] This displeased some of the elders who loved the King sincerely. They said:

‘Delay in our situation is not a good idea, dear Sire.’

Nothing that was said to him did any good, his true friends found no cause to rejoice, their hearts were full of sorrow and anger. Without further discussion the King had the earl of Salisbury sent for and said,

‘Cousin, you must cross to England and challenge the duke's mad undertaking, his men must be put to death or captured. Find out how he has stirred up my country and raised it against me.’

The earl replied,

‘Sire, by my faith I shall do this, so that – I believe – you will soon hear of the fighting, or I will die in the attempt.’

‘This I know, cousin,’ said the King. ‘And I will make haste to come across as soon as I can, for I shall have no rest so long as the false traitor⁴⁰ who has played such a trick on me remains alive. [fo. 14r.] If I can hold him in my grasp, I will make him die such a death that they will talk about it as far away as Turkey⁴¹ for years to come.’

The earl soon had his men and vessels made ready to depart. He took his loyal leave of the King and begged him to follow as soon as possible. The King swore on holy relics that he would set sail within six days,⁴² whatever happened. Then the earl, who was very eager to set out to fight for the cause of King Richard, begged me to cross with him to provide diversion and singing and I agreed willingly; my companion and I sailed over the sea with him.

Now it happened that the earl landed at Conway,⁴³ a fine strong town, I tell you;

[fo. 14v.] Figure VI: Salisbury's ships arrive at Conway.

it was in Wales. There we learned of the duke's cruel behaviour, such as was unheard of anywhere. They told us that he had already taken the greater part of England, and captured towns and castles, dismissed office-holders and made new appointments everywhere in his own name; all those who displeased him he had had killed, without granting pardon as a lord should.

§7 Lines 625–76. Salisbury raises 40,000 Welshmen and men of Cheshire for the King.

When the earl heard these bad tidings, it was no surprise that he was struck with fear, [fo. 15r.] for the duke had already managed to win over most of the English nobles; we were told that he had 60,000 men eager to fight. The earl immediately called to arms the Welsh and the men of Cheshire: he said how all good men, archers and others, if they valued their life, should rally to him in support of King Richard, who loved them dearly. They were eager to do this, thinking for sure that the King had arrived at Conway. I know for certain that within four days⁴⁴ there were 40,000 men drilling and mustering in the fields; they all sincerely wanted to fight against the enemies of King Richard, who was valiant and brave all his life long.

Then the earl, filled with great grief and distress, rode out to meet them, swearing in the name of Jesus, who hung on the Cross for us, that within three days he would grasp the duke and his supporters so tightly in his power that they would no longer go around sacking the country. [fo. 15v.] A little later the earl found his men gathered together in the fields. He addressed them, saying,

‘Good people, let us take pains to avenge King Richard before he comes, that he might forever be pleased with us. As for me, I do not intend to take my ease or rest until I have done my utmost against those who are so wicked and cruel towards him. Let us leave this place and carry the fight to them. God will help us if we work hard to attack them, for our belief is that every man must maintain what is right all his life long; God expressly commands us in several places to do this.’

§8 Lines 677–708. Having learned that Richard is not at Conway, the Welsh refuse to fight.

On hearing that the King was not there, the Welsh were all disheartened and afraid and many whispered one to the other: they thought that the King had died and feared the awful cruelty of the duke of Lancaster and his men. [fo. 16r.] They were not happy with the earl, and said:

‘Sire, you may be sure that we will advance no further at the present time, since the King is not here. And would you know why? Here is the duke who subjects all to his will. This fills us with fear and dread, for we believe that the King is dead, since he did not arrive with you. Had he been here – by fair means or foul – each one of us would have been eager to fight his enemies, but for now we will not advance with you.’

The earl almost lost his wits, so great was his wrath. He wept hot tears, it was most distressing to see his plight.

‘Alas!’ he said. ‘What shame is mine today. Death, come to me, tarry not, strike me down; I hate my life. Alas! The King will think that I have betrayed him.’

§9 Lines 709–52. The Welsh desert Salisbury.

Lamenting thus, he said:

‘My friends, may Jesus Christ forgive you, come with me – I beg you – and we will hold the field [fo. 16v.] for King Richard who will be here within four and a half days. He told me when I left Ireland that he would set sail before the end of the week; he swore this on his life.⁴⁵ Messeigneurs – I beg you – let us be diligent.’

It was to no avail. They remained faint-hearted and dejected. Many of them wanted to flee to join the duke, as they feared for their lives, but the earl kept them fourteen days in the field, awaiting the arrival of King Richard. The earl kept saying to himself:

‘It seems to me, my lord, that your delay means that you will keep no part of England. God in Paradise, what can this mean? I believe you have been betrayed, since I hear no news of you in word or deed. Alas! These men are afraid, they fear the duke's enmity. They will leave me; they are an unknowing and ignorant people.’

[fo. 17r.] Thus did the good earl turn things over in his mind in the field as he rode along with these men, who very shortly all deserted him; some went directly to the duke, others returned to Wales. Thus they left the earl alone in the field with only his own men, who were fewer than one hundred, I think. He made great lamentation, saying sorrowfully,

‘We should retreat, for our affairs are going very badly.’

§10 Lines 753–824. Salisbury withdraws on Conway. Richard arrives at Milford Haven; dressed as a priest he leaves his army and rides to Conway.

Thus does the earl hate himself, for he can plainly see that he has neither killed nor captured the duke's men; his heart fills with deep shame. Without further delay the enemy advanced, for they had learned that the earl had mustered his forces to attack them in strength. The duke was happy at this: he wanted nothing so much as to go to war against those who would defend or serve King Richard. He made his way as directly as he could towards the earl, who retreated on Conway, [fo. 17v.] full of grief, fear and despair. This made me very sad, for I loved him dearly, because he sincerely loved the French, and in all he did was modest, gentle and chivalrous,⁴⁶ and had the reputation of being loyal at all times and a worthy man. He dispensed generous and liberal gifts, was bold and fierce as a lion, wrote ballades and songs, rondeaux and lais; and yet he was a lay person. Nevertheless all his actions were so full of grace that to my mind no fellow countryman ever had so many God-given gifts as he. May his soul for ever be with the saints in Paradise, for he was thereafter foully killed,⁴⁷ suffering a martyr's death, while he loyally upheld what was righteous and true; you will hear how, if God spares me.

But before that I want to tell you about the arrival of King Richard, which was too long delayed, for he waited 18 days⁴⁸ after our departure from Ireland; [fo. 18r.] this was very great foolishness. May Jesus Christ curse in mind and body the man who contrived this,⁴⁹ for well did he show his love for the King who loved him so.

The King issued orders throughout his army for the barges and ships to be loaded up and for all men capable of bearing arms to embark.

Figure VII: King Richard's fleet leaves for Wales, one of the ships bearing his sunburst badge on her sail.

Thus King Richard crossed the sea⁵⁰ in a short time, for the weather was fine and clear and the wind favourable, so that he arrived at Milford Haven within two days. He did not linger there, in the light of the weeping and wailing of the poor people and the intense grief that everyone felt. [fo. 18v.] Then he decided that he would leave his army, at midnight without saying a word, accompanied by only a few people, for he did not want to attract attention. He dressed right there in a borrowed garment, like a poor priest;⁵¹ he was afraid of being recognized by his enemies. Alas! He thought that the earl [of Salisbury] was still holding the field with his men; thus, sad and melancholy, he rode swiftly towards him.

§11 Lines 825–56. Those who rode with Richard from Milford Haven to Conway are named.

Now you should know the names of the friends who were with him as he rode: I saw there the duke of Exeter⁵² – his brother – and also the good duke of Surrey⁵³ who was loyal and true to the end; the fearless earl of Gloucester⁵⁴ was with them.

There were three bishops, two of whom did not behave with integrity, and you will hear how; but first I want to tell you their names. One was bishop of St David's⁵⁵ and the other bishop of Carlisle; he was the least bad of them, for he never sought to flee the King or change sides, [fo. 19r.] whatever was said to him. The third was bishop of Lincoln;⁵⁶ he would not give a rotten pear for what they did, for he was brother german to the duke [of Lancaster] and thought that he could always make his peace with him.

Of laymen there were two knights, gracious and noble, well versed in arms: the first was called Stephen Scrope,⁵⁷ the other Ferriby,⁵⁸ who was young and dashing. Also with them was Janico,⁵⁹ who was said to be a first-rate soldier, undertaking great feats of arms, so people said.

§12 Lines 857–944. Richard and Salisbury meet at Conway, where the King learns that he has no army in Wales.

Thus the King went off that very night with just 13 companions. He rode hard for he wanted to meet up quickly with the earl of Salisbury: humiliated and ashamed, the earl considered himself worthless, because the duke overthrows all obstacles in his path, wherever he goes.

The King rode unrecognized and so hard that he arrived at Conway (where there are many slate roofs) at day-break.⁶⁰

[fo. 19v.] Figure VIII: King Richard, in black cowl, meets Salisbury and other companions at Conway.

When the King and the earl met there was great sorrow instead of joy: tears, laments and sighs, groans and grief went on and on. It was certainly most distressing to see their faces and how they behaved when they met.

The earl's face was pale with fatigue. He told the King how badly things had gone for him, how he had mustered his troops when he landed in England,⁶¹ and how he had immediately called up the men of Cheshire, the Manxmen and the Welsh; they all wanted to destroy their enemies. [fo. 20r.]

‘There were forty thousand of them gathered together. I repeated to them time and again,

‘ “Friends, let us advance. The King has sent me here to lead you. Rest assured that I will never leave you until I die.”

‘But I could not prevail upon them, for when he saw his chance, everyone left; some went to the duke, others came in this direction. Because they did not see you right here, they thought that you were surely dead across the surging sea. Thus I remained alone in the field where I had held them for almost two weeks. Alas! He who kept you back in Ireland has very little love for you. All is lost, unless God, who hung on the Cross, intervenes; for sure I believe that money has betrayed us.’

The King's sorrow was so great that you would not have believed a third, or a fourth, part of it, however loyal you were. His mortal suffering and his anger were no small matter, and he said over and over again:

‘Sweet and glorious God – who hung on the Cross for us – if I have sinned greatly against Thee, [fo. 20v.] I clasp my hands and beg for mercy. Grant not that I lose my country and my life at the hands of these disloyal and jealous traitors who would drive me

out and disinherit me.

‘Alas! I know not what they want of me; to the best of my ability I have supported justice and the law. I truly appeal to our sovereign King, who sits on high and sees afar, that my poor heart wants everyone who is alive now, has been, and is to come, to know what is in my mind and what I want. If I have been merciless and inflexible in maintaining the law, that is only right, for the King must be resolute and decisive and remain steadfast; he must punish wrong-doers and remain fair at all times. Alas! Because I have followed these principles to the best of my ability for three, nay eight and ten years,⁶² these people persecute me. Gracious God, I promise Thee truly and respectfully that, as well as I could, I never allowed harm to be done to anyone who did not deserve it. [fo. 21r.] Have mercy on me, poor, wretched King, for I know for sure that I am undone if Thou dost not help me now.’

§13 Lines 945–1028. Rutland engineers the defection of Richard's army from Milford Haven; the men plunder the King's treasure as they leave. The English are robbed in turn by the Welsh.

Now I will tell you how the Constable,⁶³ who commanded the King's army, wrongfully went off without waiting for him and took all his men with him. This was a great sin, for no one esteemed him henceforth. This is not surprising, since up until now no man of noble rank had done such a thing as wanting to overthrow his rightful lord.

As the Constable schemed to fulfil his aim, on the very night that the King left the port at midnight, disquiet and commotion arose in the ranks, and men cried out:

‘The King is fleeing without saying a word.’

The Constable was overjoyed at this, for really he had not been able to find a way to leave. But when he saw that the army was in turmoil, he said loudly enough for everyone to hear:

‘Let us go, we are all doomed since Monseigneur had fled to save himself.’

[fo. 21v.] He swiftly had trumpets sounded and commanded that every man should be ready to leave immediately, since he does not know if the King is coming back.

Then there was incredible uproar, ships were discharged and carts loaded; everyone soon got his baggage ready for going away. The King's treasure⁶⁴ was all carried off: gowns, jewels, fine gold and shining silver, many good horses of foreign breed, many precious stones of great worth, many splendid cloaks and many whole ermine furs, much splendid foreign cloth of gold, and many lengths of cramoisy.

Sir Thomas Percy⁶⁵ was absolute master over all these things. He was the King's Steward – in French that is maître d'hôtel – and had served the King for many years. The Constable and he put their heads together. A short time later they [all] went from there and headed straight through Wales, but the Welsh saw their treacherous behaviour and [fo. 22r.] accosted them in strength, one thousand here, two thousand there. They shouted out repeatedly:

‘Wretched traitors, by God's will you will advance no further here and you will give up all the jewels that you are carrying off as booty, for the King did not give them to you.’

Thus were the English plundered by the Welsh. They took back the baggage and all the armour, gold and silver, jewels, precious stones and cloth of gold. Then were the English maddened and in torment, for a thousand of them were stripped of their clothing⁶⁶ and sent to the duke wearing only their doublets, a white stick in their hands and nothing on their feet; moreover the man who was not better equipped than this had to say whence he came and where he was going, and pay his due – willy-nilly – or be killed. And if you think this is too hard to believe, it is not, for the Welsh were of one mind, having pity for the great wrong and outrage that the English had meted out to the King. Alas! What were the English thinking? God will pay them back one day, for if someone knowingly does wrong to another, [fo. 22v.] it is commonly seen that God will dole him out great punishment, for God is powerful over all who are, and have been.

§14 Lines 1029–1172. The English are harassed by the Welsh; Rutland joins Henry Lancaster. Richard sends the dukes of Exeter and Surrey from Conway to treat with Lancaster at Chester.

This is how the English were attacked by the Welsh, who showed them no mercy; they were routed and rode in groups of ten, twenty, forty or a hundred. They had to leave the treasure, for countless Welshmen emerged from the mountains, and things went very badly for them, since out of two or three roads, they had chosen the most dangerous and the narrowest. God made them happy to go that way where there were great heaps of rocks and stones, so that they found it difficult to ride. This was told me a week later.⁶⁷

Thus the English lost all their booty, seeing that the Welsh, who were bold, daring, strong and high-spirited men of action, followed hot on their heels; certainly to my mind this was a very good thing. I do not know where the English then retreated or made tracks to, but I tell you that [fo. 23r.] within a month I saw the Constable in duke Henry's army. The lord Percy, formerly Steward of noble King Richard, was there too, wearing the duke's badge.⁶⁸ Also I was told that they had come directly and as fast as they could to him, along with five hundred other naked men whom the Welsh had stripped to their doublets and beaten, as you have heard already, if you remember.

Now I will tell you about the King⁶⁹ who remained at Conway weeping tears of dismay. He said,

‘My lords, in the name of God in Paradise, counsel me, for it is in time of need that a man often sees who his friends are.’

The duke of Exeter spoke first, for he was the King's brother, saying that the best thing would be to send with all speed to the duke to find out what he wants to do, or what is his wish.

‘Why does he want to seize your kingdom, your person and your treasure and does he want to be [fo. 23v.] King of England and her sovereign lord, Prince of Wales and lord of Chester?’

Thus spoke the noble duke of Exeter to his brother.

‘And he should be told that he was banished⁷⁰ with his father's approval, so that he should consider carefully what he is going to do. It would be a great disgrace for all time if his rightful King were overthrown by him or his actions; he would never outlive such shame all the days of his life. He should be told that all living kings, nobles and knights would hate him, and rightfully so, and that over all the world he would be called the veritable Mirror of Treason if he sought to destroy and overthrow his lord. He should follow the example of his father who all his life long was virtuous and honourable, only ever wanting to be loyal to you and abhor treachery.

‘All these things should be told him: that his family had never been accused [fo. 24r.] of any treason or violent crime – it would be a very bad thing if he disgraced his lineage by his present conduct – that God hates and despises the man who supports treachery in any form – that is our law, taught us by Holy Church – and that the duke can enter into possession of his estates again,⁷¹ provided that he at least comes and begs mercy of you for your honour's sake. If he will not consent to come, someone who is able must give you different advice; if it pleases you, this is what he will be told. Let us consider who will go to him, for we should make haste, with no further delay, if you agree with what I have said. On the other hand if someone can offer better advice, let him give it for Our Lord God's sake, for there should be no bias amongst us; we are few in number and the duke is merciless and cruel – as you can see – and ill-disposed towards us.’

Then the King replied piteously:

‘Brother you speak the truth, you have found a good solution. [fo. 24v.] As for me, I do not think we could have taken better counsel. Cousins and loyal friends, every one of you must say what he thinks, I beg you, for God's sake, as our honour and our lives are at stake. May Jesus Christ curse duke Henry who mortally hates us and does us great wrong. Now let us consider whether we are in agreement and if everyone will agree with this.’

Then they all said:

‘Yes, for there is no better course of action in the world. If someone is suffering, he has to seek a cure; if he acts before the time is right, there is a danger that he will die or the suffering remain.’

Thus – as I tell you – they agreed there and then to send someone to duke Henry.

Now it came about that the duke of Exeter was chosen by them, for no better man could have been found to speak so wisely nor deal with such an important matter. The good King had his cousin – [fo. 25r] the duke of Surrey⁷² – go with him. In the morning they took leave of the King, who earnestly begged them to take the shortest route and to relate to duke Henry⁷³ all that you have heard spoken of here, so that they can win from him submission or peace.

Figure IX: Exeter and Surrey ride out on their embassy to Lancaster.

§15 Lines 1173–1244. Richard remains at Conway with a small retinue. Creton discourses on Fortune and her role in men's lives.

Thus they left the King, but had little opportunity to return, for duke Henry kept a tight hold of them, as you will hear [fo. 25v.] later.

Bathed in tears, the King remained at Conway, where he had with him only two or three of his closest friends;⁷⁴ they were sad, downhearted and in distress. The courtly earl of Salisbury was there and the tall and upright bishop of Carlisle, and with them was Ferriby who was not unthreatened, for the duke hated him; I do not know why, but Ferriby feared him greatly, to my mind. With them was another of their good friends, whom I heard called Sir Stephen Scrope; I often saw him with the King in those days. My companion and I were there too; we all feared greatly for our safety, as we were right to do, as you can see.⁷⁵ And I want you to know in truth that neither our number nor our strength was great, and certainly there were only sixteen of us all included, nobles and others.

Now see the distress, suffering and pain – considering his might, wealth and high standing – of King Richard, who was such a great lord. He was beset by injustice and treachery, [fo. 26r.] and by Fortune,⁷⁶ who at all times has the strength and sway to undo those whom she wants to, like a cruel and powerful ruler who is also very fickle and impetuous; for she is so merciless that she never had any wish to stop acting like this. And when she wants to work according to her nature, which is often bad for some people, one simply has to put up with it – for good or ill – as no one can resist what she wants to hand out. She makes some laugh, others sing, and then tumbles them back down into distress and anguish. Sometimes like a hypocrite she calls herself a mother, but then is cruel and malevolent; she does not consider whether a man be king or prince, it is all one to her. I reveal her to be like this, for she has allowed one of the most powerful kings in Christendom – as everyone says – to keep from among all his possessions, only a scanty measure. She sets one man up and pulls the other down; her way of working is capricious. There is nothing good in her, and thus the man [fo. 26v.] who is wise and resolved to stand firm, would pay no heed to her foolish and fluctuating virtues, for we came completely naked into the world⁷⁷ – poor, wretched and quite destitute – and we will return to the earth, be we prince, king, earl or whoever.

§16 Lines 1245–1292. Richard learns of Rutland's defection and the theft of his treasure.

I do not want to talk any more about Fortune at the moment, for a wise man would only want her gifts in moderation. I want to come now to the end of the story of King Richard who, humiliated by Fortune and betrayed, was alone at Conway – as I have already said – full of sadness, grief and dismay.

He and the earl [of Salisbury] said⁷⁸ – for I know this well – that they should send to the men whom the King had left the day before yesterday⁷⁹ at the port [of Milford Haven], for them to come straight there without delay. However, by chance a messenger arrived who stopped someone going, for he told the King what the Constable⁸⁰ had done, [fo. 27r.] which did not paint him in a good light, considering that the messenger said without a lie that he appeared to be disloyal to him. As soon as the King had left Milford Haven and the Constable had heard of this, he left there, and the Steward had no wish to stay behind.

‘Rather did he have all your treasure which remained on board ship packed up, and then they [all] went away. But the Welsh, who were strong and bold, followed hot on their heels; they re-captured all your treasure and killed very many of the English. Those who escaped went straight to the duke; thus in truth it is told me, dear Sire.’

When the King had let him tell everything he had to say, you may know that he did not feel like laughing, for on all sides affliction and suffering came at him in a steady stream.

‘Virgin Mary,⁸¹ sovereign Queen, who bore Jesus without sin,’ thus said the King, ‘Fortune deals very severely with me.’

§17 Lines 1293–1316. Richard deplores the treachery of those who have betrayed him.

[fo. 27v.] Then he said,

‘Earl of Salisbury, how shall we deal with the duke and his people, who have the power to treat us so cruelly? Alas! They have failed in their duty to us if this man is telling the truth, given that we have always strived to behave well towards them all. And if their loyalty is suspect, God will see that and know how to punish the sinner's transgression; He is the true judge. For I know that when the Flood comes and He sits in judgement, evil-doers will find no protection or deliverance, rather will they reap what they have sown and will be condemned out of God's own mouth into everlasting Hell; that is our Law. Therefore we place our trust entirely in Him; it is often said that when arms speak, the laws are silent.’⁸²

Then the earl said,

‘By my faith, Monseigneur, you speak the truth.’

§18 Lines 1317–1388. Richard moves from Conway to Beaumaris to Caernarvon.

Then they agreed that they would remain no longer at Conway, for they were very afraid, and rightly so. [fo. 28r.] They went directly to Beaumaris,⁸³ which was ten miles from Conway – it is a castle that could not be taken in two years, providing always that there was enough food and also a stout garrison – one of its sides faces the fields, the other the sea; St Edward had it built, so I heard it said by the English.

The King decided not to remain long there, rather he felt that he and his people would be safer at Caernarvon.⁸⁴ The town and castle are very fine and well fortified; on one side there are ample woods for hunting, on the other the mighty sea. There the King stayed, his face often losing all colour as he bewailed his cruel fate and cursed the hour and the day that he ever crossed the salty sea to Ireland, repeating often,

‘Gracious Virgin Mary, help me, I beg you for mercy, for never have I deserved [fo. 28v.] to be hounded thus by the duke or by my own people, who have for no reason grown to hate me and falsely betrayed me, as you can see. Alas! And when the true story is known in sweet France, certainly I hope that the heart of my father-in-law⁸⁵ will be gripped with bitter pain, for it will be a great insult to him – and to all mortal kings – on account of the outrage, torment and reduced state I am in; I am deserted by those who have always been with me. Now they have turned against me, I know not why. Alas! Such bad faith will be held against them for all time, for as long as the world remains and the waters continue to roll; these past events count against them grievously.

‘God in the Highest, who died on the Cross for us, may the beams of Thy radiant eyes shine upon me, for none other than Thou canst [fo. 29r.] help me at this pass. And if I have to lose my country or my life, I will have to take it in good part if that is the will of Dame Fortune, for everything must happen as she commands.’

Thus did King Richard repeat these words, sighing piteously, so that I shed tears more than a hundred times; there is no beating heart so hard nor so obdurate that would not have wept, considering the attacks made upon him.

§19 Lines 1389–1436. Richard returns from Caernarvon to Conway; his regrets for Queen Isabella.

Yet there was worse to come, for there were no provisions in his castles to which he had withdrawn and only straw for a bed. He slept there four or six nights, really you would not have found a halfpennyworth of food or anything else there. Certainly I dare not recount the King's great distress; he did not remain long at Caernarvon, for he had little rest there, in the light of his suffering and penury.

He returned to Conway. He missed his wife greatly, saying,

‘My beloved [fo. 29v.] wife,⁸⁶ may Jesus Christ curse the man who has separated us so shamefully; he has no love for us. I expire with grief, my fair sister, my bride and my heart's desire, when I cannot feast my eyes on you. There is such pain and grief in my heart that I am often near to despair. Alas! Isabella, virtuous daughter of France, you were wont to be my joy, my hope and my comfort.

‘Now I can see that through the work of Fortune, who has killed many a man, I must part from you to our great disadvantage. Thus my heart grieves with such intense pain that I am in danger of expiring at any moment – and this is not surprising considering that I have fallen so low from so great a height – and of losing my joy, my comfort and my wife. I can see that no one hesitates to wound or betray me. Alas! Everyone attacks or abuses me. God, [fo. 30r.] who is in His Heaven above, be praised.’

Thus said the King, weeping piteously, for he could do no more at that time.

§20 Lines 1437–1512. Exeter delivers Richard's message to Lancaster at Chester.

Now I shall tell you how the duke dealt with the King's brother, who went to him along with the duke of Surrey, who loved King Richard steadfastly, so much so that he endured great suffering and met an ignoble death hereafter,⁸⁷ as you will soon hear, if God spares me.

The two dukes rode all day long until they came to Chester, which the duke [of Lancaster] had captured without fighting, through his skill and judgement; they both entered. They were accompanied by very many people, who thought that they were unwilling to serve the King, and had come to beg mercy of Henry, duke of Lancaster; but it was great folly to think so, for they would not have abandoned the King for all the gold in England.

They were led swiftly to duke Henry, directly to the castle (which was skilfully built); he had great joy and gladness in his heart when he saw them. [fo. 30v.] He pretended⁸⁸ to give them a very warm welcome, and then said to the duke of Exeter:

‘Now, brother-in-law,⁸⁹ without demur, I beg you, give me your news.’

‘Brother-in-law, the news is not good for Monseigneur; it is bad and uncertain, which makes me anguished and despondent.’

Figure X: Exeter and Surrey make obeisance to Lancaster at Chester.

Then he told him most seriously all that you have heard already when they left the King: [fo. 31r.] that it will be a very great wrong if he betrays his loyalty to his lord in this manner, and that he was banished at the request and with the consent of his own father – he should think carefully about all these things – and how all mortal kings will be shamed and insulted by his behaviour, and that he will be hated by his friends; that all who love honour, loyalty, virtue and worthy deeds will be his enemies. He will bring great shame on his lineage for all time to come if he commits such an outrage, considering that he ought to be a wise and moderate lord: but if it happens that his rightful King is disinherited – either by his resignation or by use of force – he will be compared to Ganelon,⁹⁰ who in his day committed many acts of treason, which led to the deaths of many good knights; he should therefore for God's sake beware of this comparison. He will get back his estates and his wealth, provided that he henceforth does his duty, and the King will gladly pardon [fo. 31v.] all the wrongs that he has done him.

Thus did the duke of Exeter tell him what he had to say and dared to talk quite boldly to him, for he had married Lancaster's sister and thus was of his family. The noble duke of Exeter added:

‘I beg you, brother-in-law, grant us your swift response, wholly or in part, for Monseigneur awaits us, and he is not in a good situation.’

§21 Lines 1513–1544. Lancaster refuses to let Exeter and Surrey return to Richard.

Then said duke Henry:

‘You have explained everything to me very well, but you will not go back today, nor yet in a week's time, if Christ grants me health and joy. It would not be sensible for me to send you straight back, you are not paid messengers,⁹¹ and Monseigneur was not wise in sending you here. Could he not find other messengers apart from the two of you? It is not very clever to send here men of such eminent rank.’

Thus did the duke stand in their way, but his brother-in-law kept urging him to grant them leave to go, [fo. 32r.] saying,

‘Sire, the King may think that it is treason that keeps us here; we will never in our lives be able to survive such shame. Therefore, in God's name, we beg you with true love, brother-in-law, let us go, for honour's sake, lest disgrace attach itself to us.’

Then said the duke (who was as bold as a lion):

‘Do not speak any more of this, brother-in-law; when the time is right we will send you back to the King. And keep away from me, for I swear to you by my faith that however much you bother me, you will not escape from me within a month.’

§22 Lines 1545–1764. The castle of Holt is surrendered to Lancaster. The Archbishop of Canterbury suggests a ruse to capture Richard and the earl of Northumberland is sent to Conway to carry it out; the castles of Flint and Rhuddlan surrender to him. Richard suspects that Exeter has met with trouble.

Thus did the two dukes remain with sorrow in their hearts, considering that duke Henry was angry with them at that time. They wanted to be with the King, who remains alone with no one to help him. Thus they both often weep, but they just had to put up with everything, heartache and joy. Duke Henry made them separate: he made his brother-in-law – the duke of Exeter – stay with him, [fo. 32v.] and he had the good duke of Surrey imprisoned in Chester Castle (where there are many fine windows and many high walls. It reminded me of the castle of Namur⁹² when I saw it, it is so high and forbidding); the duke did not feel very safe there, and rightly so.

Six miles from the town there was another castle called Holt,⁹³ perched high on a rock. The duke of Lancaster approached it at the head of his army. The people inside were so afraid that they did not know what to do, even although they knew for sure that the duke could not lay a finger on them, for the castle is so strong and solid that I do not think it could have been taken by force in ten years, considering the rock on which it was sited and that there was a very stout garrison of good men. There were a hundred choice men-of-arms installed within by King Richard, but they failed [fo. 33r.] to guard the narrow entrance passage where one had to ascend carefully, step by step. Wretched and afraid, they surrendered it to the duke, who was very happy to enter, for there were more than one hundred thousand marks sterling in gold which King Richard had amassed in that place. There was also a great store of other precious things: by St Mor, I heard it said that the total there was worth an estimated two hundred thousand marks in gold; duke Henry had it all taken away with him.

Thus was Holt surrendered – as I tell you – and all King Richard's treasure stolen, and yet there were artillery pieces defending it, and provisions – bread, wine, sweet water and cattle – enough for six years. Such people were not worth a straw, for without joining battle or putting up a defence they immediately gave it up to duke Henry; please God that he would have had them all hanged.

He did not want to linger there, but rather returned [fo. 33v.] directly to Chester, where he summoned all the members of his Council and asked each man to say what seemed to be the best way to proceed.

The Archbishop of Canterbury replied before anyone else and said:

‘My lords, King Richard has retreated to Wales, where there are many perilous mountains, which waggons and baggage cannot traverse. On the other side is the sea (where many sardines⁹⁴ can be caught); you cannot get your army near him. You should send someone to him to swear and promise that you want lasting peace between you, provided that he pledges to call a Parliament where the malefactors – those who had his uncles⁹⁵ put to death – will be punished; thus you will be henceforth good friends and you will humbly beg mercy of him. And he should set a suitable date in some place where everyone – clerk or lay, knight, priest or nun – can see him. [fo. 34r.] Otherwise you will not be able to capture him, since whatever we do he can set sail at any time to escape, for I have heard it said that he has had shipping impressed at Conway. Thus my advice is that you need to reflect on this; now say what you think, Messeigneurs and friends.’

Then everyone said:

‘By God in Paradise, I never heard better advice than his.’

Then duke Henry said:

‘The old earl of Northumberland⁹⁶ – my cousin – will be a good mediator and accomplish this. I command him to set out very early tomorrow⁹⁷ morning and not to return for whatever reason until he brings the King, by fair means or foul. He should have with him 400 lancers and one thousand archers, who will do their job well, for more than anything else I wish to capture him.’

Then he said to the earl:

‘Cousin, have a care to depart and accomplish your task, for you can give me no greater pleasure [fo. 34v.] in the world. In the name of God, make haste, and I shall stay at Chester until you return or I hear news of you that makes my heart swell with joy.’

‘God grant that my news may be such,’ said the earl. ‘By sound judgement or trick, I shall bring him.’

Thus the earl left without delay. He took the most direct route to Conway, worrying how he can capture the King. He and his men rode hard until they arrived at a very strong castle called Flint.⁹⁸ He demanded that those within surrender it to him in the name of duke Henry, or they will all be killed without clemency or pardon. Fearing for their lives, they opened the gate to him; he had King Richard's people ejected and set a large portion of his own men to guard it. It was in this castle called Flint that the King was captured, as you will hear tell later.

Now Northumberland had his men make haste, and went directly from there to Rhuddlan,⁹⁹ where he found the going rough and difficult, with many hills and large boulders. [fo. 35r.] He passed through them as well as he could, to his great satisfaction. He sent to the constable¹⁰⁰ of the castle, who was an old knight, to tell him that the castle should immediately be surrendered to him in the duke's name, or he will be hanged without mercy along with all the others there: truly they will not escape the sting of death, not for all the treasure in the kingdom, if they do not yield the castle. Thus does the earl threaten the constable of the castle, whose face was pale with fright, for he had held the castle and its entrance in the King's name for many a day. It is very strongly defended, considering that the salty sea comes up into the ditches, and also it is perched very high on a rock; the walls are stout and wide and fortified with fat towers.¹⁰¹ But the old keeper was so afraid that he handed over the keys like a coward; and yet King Richard had begged him most courteously [fo. 35v.] to defend it, since it was very richly supplied with wine and wheat, for he had been there recently, and I with him.¹⁰² Thereupon the constable of the castle pledged to the earl that he would surrender it to him, in the name of duke Henry, on condition that he remain governor for life; the earl agreed.

Now it was just ten miles¹⁰³ of quite straight road to Conway where the King remained in sorrow and dismay. He knew nothing about the earl's approach, but repeated to himself:

‘I know not what this means; glorious God, creator of my life, what can have happened to my brother Exeter? A week ago he went to Chester to reconcile the duke and me; now he has not been able to come back. In truth I believe that they have met with trouble and distress. I know not what to think or say.’

Thus did the King suffer greatly, considering the misfortunes that came upon him thick and fast; nevertheless [fo. 36r.] he rendered thanks to Almighty God.

Now it is right that you know the truth about Northumberland and how he schemed to capture King Richard, for he knew perfectly well that if the King guesses that he has come in strength, he will absolutely refuse to leave his castles.

§23 Lines 1765–1916. Northumberland leaves most of his men behind as an ambush to capture the King and goes forward with a small party to outline Lancaster's terms to Richard.

He had his men split into two groups behind some boulders, bristling with catapults. They were keen and willing to capture the King as though he were a treacherous tyrant. Alas! Such people! What were they thinking of, when they had held him in great esteem as their rightful lord for twenty-two years, and now wanted to depose and ruin him? It is my view that this is such a cardinal error that they should, for all time, be considered most wicked, and fresh chronicles should be written so that people could see, in greater detail, what they had done and how unworthy they were. Then the earl, who was wise and astute, said to his men:

‘Guard well this pass, and I will go across the river with five others, [fo. 36v.] and please God, before tomorrow morning I will say such things to the King – in prose or rhyme – that unless he is a man of steel, I think he will be flushed out; but on pain of death do not move until you see the King or me¹⁰⁴ returning.’

Thus they arranged themselves in good order and the earl went off quietly to Conway to fulfil his pledge.

There is an arm of the sea in front of the town¹⁰⁵ and when the earl got there he sent a herald to King Richard to ask if it were his pleasure that he be granted safe-conduct to come across to tell him how the duke wants to be reconciled with him. Then the herald crossed the water and found the King in the castle on high,¹⁰⁶ engulfed in sadness. He said eagerly to him:

‘Sire, the honourable earl of Northumberland has sent me here, to tell you how duke Henry wants to have a genuine and speedy peace between you. [fo. 37r.] For the true state of affairs to emerge you will grant him, if you please, safe-conduct and permission to come here, for otherwise he will not dare to set out.’

Then Salisbury, who was there, told King Richard that it would be a good plan to have the earl come there on his own. Then the King said out loud to the herald¹⁰⁷ in his own tongue, that he willingly grants passage to the earl of Northumberland (who was wise and astute). The herald rendered thanks one hundredfold to the King. He descended from the lofty castle, and crossed the water to where the earl had awaited him impatiently. He related to him how King Richard granted him safe-conduct kindly and willingly and begged him to make haste.

Then the earl climbed into a boat and crossed the water. He found King Richard in the castle, the earl of Salisbury and the bishop of Carlisle with him also. He said to the King,

‘Sire, duke Henry has sent me here

[fo. 37v.] Figure XI: Northumberland makes obeisance to King Richard at Conway.

so that there may be peace between the two of you, and that you be henceforth good friends. If it please you, Sire, and if I may be heard, I will tell you what he asks and will tell no lie: that you will be a true judge and have all those whom I shall name here come on the appointed day to Westminster, in the name of justice, to attend the Parliament that you two will cause to be held in good faith: [fo. 38r.] and that the duke will be reinstated as High Steward,¹⁰⁸ as the duke his father had been and all his kin, for more than 100 years. I will name those who will await judgement; it is time, if you please, Sire.’

‘Yes, for I wish to know who they are.’

‘Sire, know in truth that your brother¹⁰⁹ is the first. The second has not done his duty, it is the duke of Surrey who is in fact imprisoned and locked up in the castle of Chester; I know not how he has offended duke Henry. The others are the earl of Salisbury and the bishop of Carlisle. The fifth – as I understood – I have heard named Monseigneur Maudelyn.¹¹⁰ These men conspired to advise you to have your uncle¹¹¹ killed most treacherously. If they deny this, they must await the judgement of your Parliament, where you will be crowned King and lord in high estate, [fo. 38v.] and duke Henry will be there impartially as High Steward.¹¹² Those who have sinned or been traitors will be punished; this is what Monseigneur has decided. Certainly, dear Sire, he has no wish to inflict suffering except for good reason.

‘I want to say something else to you: you should swiftly name a day, for well do I know that that is the duke's greatest wish. He wants only his estates and what is his, he wants nothing of yours, for you are his sole and rightful King, and he reproaches himself for the great wrong he has done you through the evil counsel of the Enemy,¹¹³ who never rests or sleeps. Rather is he ever on the watch to place temptation in Man's way; he put him up to all this. Thus for the sake of God – who suffered the supreme agony on the Cross for us – show kindness to Monseigneur, who is downcast and in distress, and spare him your wrath this time, [fo. 39r.] and he will most humbly beg mercy of you, on his knees. After this, you will make your way together to London, peacefully like men of the cloth, or if you want to make your own way, you will do so; and then Parliament will be summoned throughout the land.

§24 Lines 1917–2004. Northumberland withdraws and Richard tells his companions that he will pretend to agree to Lancaster's terms.

‘You can be certain sure of this. I will swear on the body of our Lord Jesus Christ, consecrated by priestly hand, that duke Henry will most willingly observe everything that I have said, for he pledged it to me on the Host¹¹⁴ when I took my leave of him lately. Now consider, Sire, what you would do, for I have tarried long.’

Then King Richard said carefully to him:

‘Northumberland, just step aside and before long you will have our reply, so that you can leave soon.’

Then you could have seen Northumberland's party draw away from them. The King and his companions discussed in detail what they had heard the earl recount; at length the King [fo. 39v.] said:

‘Messeigneurs, we will give him what he wants, for upon my soul I can see no other way out. All is lost, you can see that as well as I, but I swear to you that the duke will meet a painful and certain death for this, whatever I promise him, considering the outrage and affront that he has caused us. And assuredly no Parliament will be held at Westminster to discuss his demands, for I love you with such a tender heart that were I to die for it, I would not let you appear in Parliament for the duke to have his way with you. For well do I know that he would make you suffer great torment and you would be in mortal danger, considering that some men are spreading false charges against you. Have no fear, despite them you will always be my closest friends, for I have found you loyal and true, without malice.

‘I tell you furthermore that I will enlist the Welshmen and have them gather in secret so that we can find them when we want them, [fo. 40r.] after we have talked to duke Henry. Then we will make our way through Wales, and if he asks why, we will tell him that there is not a halfpenny worth of provisions out there; his troops have laid waste the country. “In order that¹¹⁵ we do not run out of food, let us go that way, if you give your assent.” This is what we will say to him and I think that he will easily agree; the earl has told us so.

‘And when we have come upon our men, we will unfurl our banners in the wind and attack the duke with all speed and with all our strength. For I swear on my life that when they see my colours, they will be filled with such remorse – considering the wrong they have done me – that half of those who have gone over to him will abandon him and come to us, since a noble heart cannot be found lacking. They will remember that they should hold me as their rightful lord as long as I live; then you will see them come straight to us. [fo. 40v.] You know that we are in the right; God will help us, if we all believe. If we are not as many on our side as they, they will then – please God – be keen to join battle, and if it turns out that they are defeated, they will be put to death; I shall have some of them flayed alive. I would not spare them for all the gold in the land, if it pleases God that I stay alive and keep my health.’

§25 Lines 2005–2076. Northumberland swears on the Host that Lancaster's terms are as they have been related to Richard.

This is what the King said to them, and the others all agreed, saying,

‘Sire, let the earl of Northumberland be sent for, and let us have him swear right away the oath as he offered before; if he does so, we will go along with everything he has said.’

Thus without more ado, the earl was summoned and the King said to him:

‘Northumberland, the duke sent you here to make peace between the two of us. If you swear on the Host, which we will have consecrated, that everything you have said is true, [fo. 41r.] with no falsehood about it, and that the duke will honour our agreement as a noble lord should, then we will agree to your terms. For well do I know that you are an honourable man, and would not perjure yourself for the sake of finery, jewels or gifts, for the man who wittingly breaks his oath will know only shame and affront as long as he lives; and at the last he will die in great torment.’

Then the earl replied:

‘Monseigneur, have the Host consecrated, and I will swear that there is no falsehood here, and that the duke will honour our agreement, as you have heard me say.’

All of them devoutly heard Mass. Then the earl, without offering any objection, swore on the Host. Alas! His blood ought to have boiled, for he knew the opposite

[fo. 41v.] Figure XII: Northumberland kneels before the Host.

to be true. Nevertheless he swore the oath – as you have heard me say – to fulfil his own wish and keep his promise to the duke who had sent him to the King. Thus did the two of them agree: one laid a wicked scheme, and the other was even worse. But the King did the lesser wrong, for it is often said,‘When arms speak, the laws are silent’,¹¹⁶ and he did not swear an oath as the earl did: [fo. 42r.] he will die in supreme disgrace, unless he repents before God, for what he did is worse than all other sins, it seems to me; to my mind, what he did is like nothing else you can ever hear of. And therefore, the man who treads a straight path lives and reigns in great prosperity and peace until Death comes, whom we all expect at any time; the great are undone and the poor gobbled up. Nothing can withstand his blows, he leaves a very bad taste in one's mouth. Now please God that Death carries us off in such a way that in Heaven we may see His face and His beaming eyes, and may He be benevolent and well disposed towards us on the Last Day.

§26 Lines 2077–2136. Richard leaves Conway for Rhuddlan.

To return to our main story: the earl begged the King to make haste, saying,

‘Sire, let us ride, I beg you, for well do I know that the duke is most anxious to learn that we have peace.’

Alas! The King had no inkling of the harm or the earl's wish [fo. 42v.] to deceive him in the manner laid out before you here. The King said to him:

‘It is time to set out, whenever you will, but I command you to go on ahead to Rhuddlan, and have dinner prepared there.’

‘It is as you wish,’ the earl replied, and set off; King Richard followed soon after him.

The earl rode hard until he caught sight of all his men behind the boulders,¹¹⁷ and then he was well pleased, for he could see that they were taking care to guard the defile. He told them all that had happened and how he had schemed, and that the King will soon be upon them. They were all full of joy at this, for their desire to capture their lord was very great.

Then the King left Conway to go to Rhuddlan. He crossed the broad stretch of water then rode four miles further on until he ascended the boulders¹¹⁸ where the earl [and his men] were hidden. [fo. 43r.] The King was astounded when he saw them, saying,

‘I am betrayed! What can this mean? God in Paradise, help me.’

Then they were recognized by their pennons which were seen fluttering, and the King said,

‘I think it is the earl, who got us to agree by swearing an oath.’

Then were they all plunged into bitter fear: I would rather have been in France, for I saw them close to despair, and rightly so. It was no surprise that they were all in anguish, for even had they fled, none could have escaped there, but would have been taken or captured.

If you listen to me, I will tell you how the King had come so close to Northumberland's men that it was much further to return to the town than to descend the boulders; the sea beat upon them and on the other side the way was impassable due to the rocky ground.

§27 Lines 2137–2204. Richard falls into Northumberland's ambush and is brought by him to Rhuddlan.

Thus they had to carry on, come what may, or be killed amongst the press of the earl's men who were wearing chain-mail, as you can see.¹¹⁹ [fo. 43v.] Then the King gave way to such grief that I felt sorry for his plight. He kept saying:

‘Blessed God, what distress and affliction come upon me! Now I can see clearly that this man is taking me to the duke, who has little love for us. Virgin Mary, sovereign Queen, pity me, for in truth I know that I am lost if you do not keep me safe.’

Thus spoke the King, who had no power there, for we numbered only twenty or twenty-two, it seemed to me.

Everyone descended the steep boulders; this displeased the King greatly, and he kept saying to Salisbury:¹²⁰

‘Now I can see that I am dead and done for, since duke Henry hates me very much. Alas! Why did we believe the earl's word? Certainly it was very foolish of us. But it is too late; may Jesus – in whom I believe – help us.’

As he spoke we had to come within a bowshot of Northumberland's men. Then the earl came and kneeled down,¹²¹

[fo. 44r.] Figure XIII: King Richard is ambushed by Northumberland.

saying to the King:

‘Be not displeased, my rightful Lord, I was coming to fetch you for your better safety, since the countryside is unsettled because of the fighting, as you know.’

Then said the King:

‘I would have gone without all the men whom you have brought here; it seems to me that this is not what you promised me. You told me that you had been sent with five others. In the name of God in Paradise, you have behaved very badly, [fo. 44v.] considering the oath that you swore. It seems that you, who have made this move here, are lacking in loyalty. Know you that I shall return to Conway, which I left today.’

Then the earl said:

‘Monseigneur, you accuse me of dishonour, but I swear to you on the body of Jesus who died on the Cross for all of us, since you are held here by me, I shall take you to duke Henry as directly as I can, for I want you to know that I promised him ten days ago that I would bring you.’

Then he had bread and wine brought and offered them himself to the King, who dared not refuse the earl's commands, considering his strong position. Then they remounted and made their way directly to Rhuddlan; they dined excellently in that strong castle.

§28 Lines 2205–2268. Northumberland takes Richard to Flint. The King apostrophizes Queen Isabella and her father, Charles VI of France.

After dinner Northumberland (who was most assiduous) ordered a man to ride straight to Chester, [fo. 45r.] for duke Henry was there, awaiting the earl amidst the throng of his men. He was greatly apprehensive about the long delay, for he knew nothing about what the earl had done: that he and his men were bringing the King from Rhuddlan.

Immediately after dinner, without further delay, we dropped down to Flint, which had been surrendered to the duke without a fight. It was in this castle that he came the next day to capture King Richard and all those who were with him, as you will hear in a very short time. Alas! You can well imagine the King's lamentations that night when he was alone, for he had plenty to lament about, considering that he could see his enemies on all sides eager to deal him a tyrant's death. That night he loudly grieved for his wife – the daughter of the King of France – saying:

‘My sweetheart,¹²² my sister, I bid you farewell. It is on account of my love for you that I have come to this pass, for never did I deserve to be so foully undone [fo. 45v.] by my subjects. But if it be Christ's pleasure that I should die, may He lead my soul into Paradise, for I can no longer escape or flee.

‘Alas! Father-in-law – King of France – I shall never see you again. I leave you your daughter amongst these wicked and dishonest people; this almost fills me with despair, for she was my joy and my delight. Please God that you will swiftly seek revenge once you know what has happened, lest reproaches be heaped upon you. The matter concerns you; may you attend to it soon. Alas! I have no ships, men or money to enable me to send a messenger to you just now. Were I still at Conway I would go to you. Now it is too late. Alas! Why did we believe Northumberland who has handed us over to the wolves? I fear that we will all die, for these people are pitiless; may God confound them, body and soul.’

Thus spoke King Richard to Salisbury, [fo. 46r.] who expressed great sorrow – I never saw greater – and the bishop of Carlisle also. None of the others slept at all that night.

§29 Lines 2269–2295. Northumberland apprises Lancaster of Richard's presence at Flint. Creton informs his readers that he will now change to writing in prose.

Overnight Northumberland reported to duke Henry that he was bringing the King; the messenger arrived at Chester just as day broke. He told duke Henry all that had happened with King Richard, who was presently at Flint. The duke's heart leapt with joy at the news, and rightly so, for that was what he wanted most in the whole world. His army was camped out all over the fields around Chester. Then he had it announced that each man should immediately make ready to go where he led; the English had many trumpets sounded.

Now, I will tell you about the King's capture, without having to find words that rhyme. And in order better to render the words spoken when the two of them met – for I recall them perfectly well, it seems to me – I will convey them in prose, for it seems that sometimes we add too many words [fo. 46v.] to what we are writing about. Now may it please God, who made us in His likeness, to punish all those who committed this outrage.

§30 Lancaster leaves Chester and descends on Flint with his army.

In this part [you will hear of] the sorrow and suffering endured by King Richard, who was in the castle of Flint awaiting the arrival of the duke of Lancaster.

He left Chester on Tuesday 22 August 1399¹²³ with all his army, estimated by several knights and squires at more than 100,000 men, arrayed for battle and riding along the seashore,¹²⁴ full of joy and pleasure and eager for the capture of their natural and rightful lord, King Richard.

On the said Tuesday he got up early, attended by suffering, sadness and sorrow: by lamentations, tears and groans. He heard Mass very devoutly, as a good Christian should, with his true friends the earl of Salisbury, the bishop of Carlisle, Sir Stephen Scrope and one other knight named Ferriby; they all refused to abandon or desert the King, whatever hardship or ill fortune befell him. Also with them was the son of the countess of Salisbury¹²⁵ whom King Richard had knighted in Ireland along with the eldest son of the duke of Lancaster and several others, as I have told you in the first part of this work.

There too was Janico,¹²⁶ a Gascon squire, who certainly demonstrated the true love [fo. 47r.] he bore King Richard, for despite threats from knights or squires, or any request whatever, he would not take off the badge of his lord the King – the hart¹²⁷ – saying:

‘God forbid that for any man I take off the badge of my rightful lord, unless he himself tells me to.’

And so it was that the duke of Lancaster heard about it and had him taken in shame and disgrace to Chester Castle, where he expected from day to day to lose his head, for that was what people were generally saying. And yet he did not die – as I heard since – but I can assure you that he was the last man in England wearing the badge of King Richard. Thus did he truly show that he would not change sides lightly, nor was he of the English race.

As for their race and character,¹²⁸ they do change sides lightly, always ranging themselves with the strongest and most powerful, without regard to right, law, reason or justice. And this is not only nowadays, but they have deposed and killed their king and lord several times,¹²⁹ as you can learn from various chronicles and histories.

In order not to digress too much from the matter I am discussing, I do not wish to write further about their character and condition for now, but to return to King Richard. Having heard Mass, he climbed up onto the castle walls, which are wide and broad, and watched the duke of Lancaster coming along the seashore¹³⁰ with all his men, wonderfully great in number, expressing such joy and satisfaction that you could hear within the castle the sound of their instruments: [fo. 47v.] horns, bugles and trumpets. And then the King commended himself to the blessed protection of Our Lord and all the saints in Paradise, saying:

§31 Richard foresees his coming death.

‘Alas! Now I can see that the end of my days draws near, since I must be delivered into the hands of my enemies, who mortally hate me, without my deserving it. Earl of Northumberland, you should certainly be hugely afraid that Our Lord God will take revenge for the sin you committed when you so shamefully forswore Him to draw us from Conway, where we were completely safe. May God now repay you for this.’

§32 Lancaster takes Richard into his custody at Flint. He guarantees the safety of Creton and his companion.

Thus spoke King Richard to the earl of Salisbury, the bishop of Carlisle and the two knights – Sir Stephen Scrope and Ferriby – weeping softly on the castle walls and giving vent to great sorrow; certainly I believe that no one in this mortal world – be he Jew or Saracen – having seen the five of them together, would not have been filled with pity and compassion.

Lamenting thus, they saw a great number of men leaving duke Henry's army and spurring on towards the castle to find out what King Richard was doing. In this first party were the Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Thomas Percy and the earl of Rutland,¹³¹ from whom duke Henry had taken the office of Constable of England and the duchy of Aumale, which he had previously held of King Richard. But I firmly believe that he did this under a pretext and to throw sand in people's eyes, lest they think Rutland knew anything about the affair or the betrayal, rather than otherwise.

And yet I know not whether he did have any inkling of it, but [fo. 48r.] I do know for sure that he and Sir Thomas Percy, who had been the King's Steward – that is to say in French grant maistre d'ostel – left the port of Milford Haven and took with them the King's men and his treasure, of which they were robbed in Wales, as I told you previously.¹³² They joined the duke – as it appears – for they were among the first coming to the castle of Flint, wearing duke Henry's badge,¹³³ not the hart.

The archbishop entered first and the others after him; they climbed up to the keep. Then the King came down from the walls and they made most humble obeisance, kneeling before him. The King made them rise to their feet and drew the archbishop aside; they spoke together for a long time. I know not what they said, but the earl of Salisbury told me later that the archbishop had comforted the King most tenderly, saying that he should not be afraid and that no bodily harm would befall him. At this point the earl of Rutland spoke no word to the King, rather kept as far from him as he could, as though he were ashamed to be seen in his presence.

The party remounted and returned to duke Henry, who was coming up fast, for between the town of Chester and the castle of Flint there are only ten short miles¹³⁴ – round about five French leagues, or so – and there is no hedge or bush between the two, but merely the seashore¹³⁵ and the high rocks and boulders on the other side. And know for sure that they made a fine sight, for they were very well arrayed and so great in number, that it seems to me I had never seen so many men together. The principal commander of duke Henry's army was Sir Henry Percy¹³⁶ [fo. 48v.] whom they say is the foremost knight of England.

The King climbed back up onto the walls and saw that the army was only two bowshots from the castle. Then he lamented loudly again – and the others with him – uttering many heart-rending regrets for his wife, Isabella of France. He praised Our Lord Jesus Christ, saying,

‘Dear Lord God, I commend myself to Thy blessed protection and beg that Thou wilt forgive me all my sins, since it is Thy pleasure that I be delivered into the hands of mine enemies. If they kill me, I will accept my death with meekness, as Thou didst for the sake of us all.’

As he thus spoke, the army approached the castle and surrounded it in fine array, as far as the waters permitted. Then the earl of Northumberland went up to duke Henry, who was assembled with his men at the foot of the castle rock. They conferred for a considerable time and decided that the duke would not enter the castle until the King had dined, because he was fasting; thus the earl returned to the castle. When the table was prepared, the King sat down to dinner and had the bishop of Carlisle, the earl of Salisbury and the two knights – Sir Stephen Scrope and Ferriby – sit down, saying thus:

‘My good, true and loyal friends, since you are in mortal danger for being loyal, be seated with me.’

Meanwhile a great number of knights, squires and archers detached themselves from duke Henry's army and came to the castle, eager to see their King, not for any good that they wished him, but on account of their great desire to put him to death. They went to see him dine and gave it to be understood [fo. 49r.] throughout the castle that, as soon as the duke came, all those who were with the King – bar none – would lose their heads; and they said furthermore that they knew not whether the King would be spared or not.

When this news was heard, fear struck into everyone's heart, for Nature teaches every creature to fear death above all things. As for me, I do not think that I was ever so afraid as I was then, considering the utter contempt they showed and their total disregard for law, right or loyalty. And because Nature compelled me to fear death, my companion and I approached Lancaster Herald, who had come to the castle along with a great number of men to see the King. I begged him that for the love of Our Lord he would help us save our lives, and that he would please take us to duke Henry, his master; he replied that he would do so most willingly.

The King sat a very long time at table, not that he ate much, but because he knew well that as soon as he had eaten, the duke would come to fetch him to take him away or to have him killed; also he was left a long time at table because he was fasting for Our Lady.¹³⁷ After he had dined, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the earl of Northumberland went to fetch the duke of Lancaster, who left his men splendidly arrayed in front of the castle and came to the King, with nine or eleven of the greatest lords who were of his company.

[fo. 49v.] At the entrance to the castle, Lancaster Herald took us to the duke. Kneeling before him, the said herald told him in English that we were French, that the King [of France] had sent us to Ireland with King Richard, as a diversion and to see the country, and that for God's sake he wished to have our lives spared. Then replied the duke to us in French:

‘Be not afraid of anything you see, my sons,¹³⁸ but stay close to me and I will keep you safe.’

This reply fell most joyfully on our ears.

Then the duke entered the castle, wearing all his armour except for his helmet, as you can see in this picture.¹³⁹ Then the King, who had dined in the keep, was made to come down and meet duke Henry who, as soon as he caught sight of him, bowed low to the ground; as they approached one another he bowed a second time, with his hat in his hand. And then the King took off his cowl and spoke first, addressing the duke thus:

[fo. 50r.] Figure XIV: Lancaster makes obeisance to King Richard at Flint.

§33 Lancaster meets the King at Flint; their exact words are reported.

‘Fair cousin of Lancaster, you are most welcome.’

Then duke Henry replied, bowing low to the ground:

‘Monseigneur, I have come sooner than you asked; I will tell you the reason why. Your people regularly say that for twenty or twenty-two years you have ruled them very badly and with an iron hand, such that they are not happy. But please God I will help you to govern them better than they have been ruled in the past.’

Then King Richard replied:

‘Fair cousin of Lancaster, since that is your wish, it is our wish too.’

And know for sure [fo. 50v.] that these are the very words that they exchanged with nothing taken out or added, for I heard them quite clearly. Also the earl of Salisbury repeated them to me in French, along with another old knight – one of duke Henry's councillors – who told me as we were riding to Chester that Merlin and Bede¹⁴⁰ had foretold in their lifetime the capture and death of the King; were I in his castle he would show me their prophecy as I had seen it happening. He said:

§34 The prophecy of Merlin and Bede.

‘There will be a king in England who will reign between 20 and 22 years in great majesty and power. He will be allied and connected to the people of France; the said king will be undone in the north of the country, in a three-cornered place.’

The knight told me that thus it was written in a book of his.

He identified the three-cornered place as the town of Conway, and in this he was right, for I can tell you that it is triangular, as if it had been measured exactly. The King was completely undone in the said town of Conway, for the earl of Northumberland drew him out – as you have already heard – by means of the agreement that he made with him; since then the King was powerless.

Thus did the said knight hold this prophecy to be true and lent it great credence, for their character is such in their country that they believe wholeheartedly in prophecies, ghosts and spells and have great recourse to them. But it seems to me that this is not a good thing, but is rather a great lapse of faith.

§35 Richard leaves Flint in Lancaster's custody.

[fo. 51r.] As you have heard, duke Henry came to the castle and spoke to the King, to the bishop of Carlisle and to the two knights – Sir Stephen Scrope and Ferriby – but he did not speak to the earl of Salisbury. Rather did he have a knight say to him:

‘Earl of Salisbury,¹⁴¹ you can be sure that, for as much as you would not consent to speak to Monseigneur the duke of Lancaster when he and you were in Paris last Christmas, he will not speak to you.’

Then the earl of Salisbury was very afraid and his heart filled with dread, for he could see¹⁴² that the duke mortally hated him.

Duke Henry said in a fierce and merciless voice:

‘Bring the King's horses.’

And then two sorry nags, scarcely worth 40 francs, were brought to him. The King mounted on one and the earl of Salisbury on the other. Everyone got on horseback and we left the castle of Flint around two hours after midday.

§36 Richard is taken to Chester by Lancaster. From now on Creton is forbidden to speak to him.

Duke Henry captured King Richard, his lord – in the way that you have heard – and brought him with great rejoicing to Chester, whence he had set off that morning. And you should know that you could scarcely have heard the voice of God thundering, on account of the great noise and crashing sounds made by their instruments – horns, bugles and trumpets – so much so that they made the whole seashore resound.

Thus did the duke enter the town of Chester and the common people bowed down low before him, praising Our Lord; they called after their King, as if to mock him. The duke took him straight to the castle, which is very fine and strong, and made him take up his quarters in the keep. Then he handed him into the custody of the sons of the duke of Gloucester¹⁴³ [fo. 51v.] and the earl of Arundel, who hated him more than any man alive, for King Richard had had their fathers killed. There the King saw his brother – the duke of Exeter – but neither dared nor was able to speak to him.

Soon afterwards the duke sat down to dinner and had the Archbishop of Canterbury sit above him; below him at some distance were seated the duke of Exeter – brother to King Richard – the earl of Westmorland,¹⁴⁴ the earl of Rutland, the earl of Northumberland and Sir Thomas Percy. All these were seated at duke Henry's table, and the King remained in the tower with his close friends, the earl of Salisbury, the bishop of Carlisle and the two knights. And from that time onwards we were not able to see him, except out in the country as we rode. And we were forbidden to speak to him any more or to any of the others.

§37 Lancaster sets off from Chester to take Richard to London. At Lichfield Richard attempts unsuccessfully to escape.

Duke Henry remained three days at Chester and held a great Council. They decided that since the King had been captured he had too many men, and thirty to forty thousand men¹⁴⁵ would be enough to take the King to London; otherwise the country would be quite devastated, since it had been extensively despoiled when they came. Thus the duke had most of his men withdraw, and left Chester on the fourth day after the King's capture, and took the direct road to London.

He arrived at Lichfield¹⁴⁶ – a very pretty little town – and there poor King Richard attempted to escape from them by night; he slid down into a garden through the window of a stout tower where he had been lodged. But I think that it was not Our Lord's will [fo. 52r.] that he escape, for he was seen and very roughly cast back into the tower. And from then on – at all hours of the night – ten or twelve armed men guarded him without sleeping.

§38 A deputation from London demands that Richard be summarily executed. He and Lancaster continue via Coventry and St Albans. Near London, Lancaster hands the King over to the mayor and a large number of liverymen.

Now it came about that the citizens of London¹⁴⁷ heard the news of the capture of their rightful lord – King Richard – and set out in most prestigious company; that is to say that five or six of the greatest merchants – governors of the city – rode out as fast as they could to meet duke Henry. And you may know that I heard it said by several knights and squires that, as soon as they met the duke they demanded on behalf of the citizens of London that King Richard – their rightful lord – and all those who were captured with him should be beheaded, without being taken on any further. Duke Henry would not grant this request and excused himself as reasonably as he could, saying,

‘Messeigneurs, we would be in deep disgrace for all time if we put the King to death like that. But we will take him to London and there he will be judged by Parliament.’

The duke left Lichfield and rode on with all his army until he came to Coventry, which is a very fair town. But before they could arrive there, the Welsh¹⁴⁸ inflicted great injury and mischief on him, killing and robbing many of his men. Sometimes they set the English quarters on fire; certainly this filled me with great joy. The English were not able to capture any of them, except by chance. And when they could catch [fo. 52v.] any of them, they tied them with ropes to the tails of their horses and dragged them along the rough and stony roads; thus did they inflict a cruel and painful death on them.

The duke crossed their hills as quickly and as best he could; he reached the town of Coventry and stayed two days there. Then he moved on to St Albans, a very fine town with a beautiful abbey, and thence straight to London.¹⁴⁹ When he was about five or six miles from the city, the mayor accompanied by a very great number of liverymen¹⁵⁰ – each trade arrayed in their particular striped garments, and bearing arms – came to meet duke Henry, with great numbers of instruments and trumpets playing, and manifesting great joy and pleasure; a sword was borne in front of the mayor, as before the King.

When they met, they greeted the King and then duke Henry; they made much greater reverence to him than to the King, shouting out in their own tongue in an awesome voice:

‘Long live the good duke of Lancaster!’

And they said one to the other that God had revealed a miracle to them when He sent them the said duke, and how he had conquered all of England in less than a month; and that the man who could prevail like that ought to be King. And for this they most devoutly praised and thanked Our Lord, saying that it was His will, for otherwise the duke could not have done it. These foolish and credulous men also said that he would conquer a large part of [fo. 53r.] the world, and were already comparing him to Alexander the Great.¹⁵¹

As they thus talked and cast their minds forward, they came to within two miles of the city, and there the whole company stopped, all together. Then said duke Henry to the liverymen of London in a ringing voice:

‘Messeigneurs, here is your King. Make up your minds what you want to do with him.’

And they replied loudly:

‘We want him to be taken to Westminster.’

Thus he handed him over to them. At that point the duke reminded me of Pilate,¹⁵² who had Our Lord Jesus Christ scourged at the stake and then led before the multitude of the Jews, saying,

‘Messeigneurs, here is your King.’

And they replied:

‘Let Him be crucified.’

Then did Pilate wash his hands and say:

‘I am innocent of the blood of this just man’ and handed Our Lord over to them. In the same way did duke Henry behave when he handed over his rightful lord to the liverymen of London so that, should they have him killed, he could say:

‘I am innocent of this deed.’

[fo. 53v.] Figure XV: Lancaster hands King Richard over to the liverymen of London.

§39 King Richard is taken to Westminster. Lancaster goes to St Paul's and then to St John's Priory, Clerkenwell.

Thus did the liverymen of London take their King to Westminster.¹⁵³ The duke went round the city to enter by the main gate, in order to pass along their great thoroughfare called Cheapside. He entered the city at the hour of Vespers and came directly to St Paul's. The people shouted after him in the streets: ‘Long live the good duke of Lancaster!’

And they called blessings down upon him in their own tongue, expressing such great joy and exultation that I believe they would not have voiced greater had Our Lord God descended amongst them.

The duke dismounted at St Paul's and went to pray, fully armed, at the high altar. Then he turned away to his father's tomb,¹⁵⁴ which is quite near the said altar; you should know that it is a very richly ornamented sepulchre. There he wept most bitterly, as he had not seen it since [fo. 54r.] his father had been laid in it.

He remained five or six days at St Paul's, then left and went to St John's Priory,¹⁵⁵ a hospice of the Knights’ Templar, which is outside the city of London.

§40 Creton and his companion return to France.

When we had seen and thought about these things, which filled my heart with grief and pain, and also since I was eager to leave their country, my companion and I went to duke Henry and begged him to grant us safe-conduct to come back to France; this he did right willingly.

Thus we left duke Henry and rode until we came to Dover. We crossed the sea and arrived at Calais, where we scarcely lingered, for I was most anxious to reach France.

And then shortly afterwards, considering their rebellions, wickedness, betrayals and mockery of their rightful lord – King Richard – I wrote a ballade, which begins thus:

§41 Lines 2296–2334. Imprecatory ballade, cursing Lancaster.

Oh, Henry, who for the present are the ruler of the land of King Richard, who was so powerful, whom you cast aside and expelled and whose treasure you stole and took for yourself, who are the image of treachery. Now everyone knows that never was man so falsely betrayed as you betrayed your King; you cannot hide this. You had him condemned in an arbitrary ruling; for this, on the Last Day you will forfeit body and soul.

For falsely and furtively, being banished, [fo. 54v.] you stole his country without issuing a challenge. It certainly seems to me that this was not a worthy thing for you to do, considering that he was abroad fighting his enemies in Ireland, where he received many painful blows from the Irish, who are as fierce as lions. He knighted your eldest son.¹⁵⁶ Alas! You forgot to reward him. This is a great sin of which the whole world holds you guilty; for this, on the Last Day you will forfeit body and soul.

For you did not keep faith with him, as you had sworn and promised to do, when treacherously and in the name of reconciliation you sent to him Northumberland, who swore on the Host that you would be his friend. Therefore before the time was right the King left his castles and quietly made his way towards you. Alas! You carried him off in shame and humiliation; for this, on the Last Day you will forfeit body and soul.

Princes and kings, knights and barons, French, Flemings, Germans and Bretons ought to attack you immediately, for you have committed the most horrid crime of any man: this is an ignoble distinction for you; for this, on the Last Day you will forfeit body and soul.

§42 Lines 2335–2361. Creton rails against the English.

[fo. 55r.] When I had finished my ballade I was no longer so very sick as I had been, and angry at the great injury that I had seen the English do: overthrowing their lord like traitors and usurpers; please God, may every tyrant work swiftly for their destruction. I think this would win salvation for all those who quickly and eagerly attacked them. For they are so steeped in evil, in falsehood and in wrong – in word and deed – that I firmly believe that there is no race beneath the heavens that is like theirs, considering their actions, which are not worthy or virtuous according to law and justice. But if I err in saying this, forgive me, for I have seen the evil in them that makes me speak so.

§43 Lines 2362–2376. Back in France, Creton expresses a wish to know how events concluded.

[fo. 55v.] As you have heard, I had returned from their country quite short of money and finery, and I often thought that – at whatever cost – I needed to know the end of the business that they had started, concerning their King whom they were holding in shameful imprisonment at Westminster; this redounded to their discredit, and always will, for as long as they live. Certainly they will never have any honour, at least among faithful people, considering their very many acts of wrongdoing.

§44 Lines 2377–2412. Creton meets a clerk returned from England, who takes up Richard's story.

Thus I remained a long time in Paris, ignorant of what they were doing with their lord and King, whom they held imprisoned in shame and suffering for many a long day – this was a great crime – until a clerk whom duke Henry had taken with him when he left Paris, returned, sad and dejected, on account of the great wickedness he had witnessed there. He had remembered it all quite clearly, for he related it to me when he came back from there, [fo. 56r.] saying that he would not accept all the wealth in England, were he obliged to spend his life there in return, so great is the English hatred of the French.

Then he told me how they had most wrongfully imprisoned their King at Westminster, when duke Henry arrived latterly in London. The duke went directly to St Paul's and then to St John's, a Templar hospice a short way outside the walls. It was his pleasure to remain there a full two weeks,¹⁵⁷ without leaving; then he went off to his estates in the county of Hereford. This is what the clerk told me; he was there and could observe all their disloyal deeds and conduct.

§45 Lines 2413–2424. The date is to be set for the Deposition Parliament.

The duke remained in the said county for three weeks and then came back to London, for the commons had summoned him. Then he was told that the date for Parliament should be set. This pleased [fo. 56v.] duke Henry greatly and he readily agreed; it was his dearest wish, for he knew perfectly well that the King would be deposed and that he would be made King.

§46 Lines 2425–2444. The Deposition Parliament meets.

Duke Henry had his men called to attend, and they were swift to obey. I am profoundly amazed that God could suffer the evil that was in their thoughts.

As I heard it, it was on the first Wednesday of October¹⁵⁸ that they all gathered. Alas! King Richard had few friends in that company, for they all wanted to depose him without delay. So they did, but I truly believe that they will pay dearly for it, as the righteous Judge in Heaven above, familiar with their words and deeds, will punish them in time, even if they meet with no other punishment.

[fo. 57r.] Figure XVI: The Deposition Parliament. The empty throne, with Lords Spiritual on the left and Lords Temporal on the right.

§47 Lines 2445–2478. Those present at the Deposition Parliament.

Thus there gathered on an evil day at Westminster, outside the city of London – this was no lie – firstly all the prelates: archbishops and bishops. Alas! What were they thinking? What was in their hearts? They must have been mad to agree to such a Parliament.

After the dukes in the first rank were marquesses, earls and knights: squires, archers and several degrees of men, who were neither great-hearted nor high-minded, [fo. 57v.] but false and disloyal traitors; there were so many of them that I hardly dare tell you. First to enter the hall were leading citizens who had previously – as I heard – had the throne made ready in magnificent state, for they hoped to elect another King; this they did, to their shame, as you will hear later.

Seated round the throne and near to it were the prelates, more than six in number. On the other side all the lords – of high, middle and lesser rank – were seated in fine order; never did I hear tell of such.

§48 Lines 2479–2528. Creton names the peers present at the Deposition Parliament

Duke Henry was seated foremost, and nearest to him the duke of York,¹⁵⁹ his cousin – who was not well disposed towards his nephew, King Richard. Next on the same side sat the duke of Aumale¹⁶⁰ – son of the duke of York – [fo. 58r.] and then the good duke of Surrey,¹⁶¹ who remained loyal and true. Next to him sat the duke of Exeter, who could not have been happy, since he could see in front of him the means of deposing the King, his brother german; this was the will of everyone there that day.

Also on this side was one named the Marquess¹⁶² – he was lord of extensive lands – and then the earl of Arundel¹⁶³ (who was young and fleet of foot.) The earl of Norfolk¹⁶⁴ was not left out of the tally, neither was the earl of March.¹⁶⁵ From another region came one who was the earl of Stafford,¹⁶⁶ who did not like being at peace with his lord, King Richard. Also seated on this side was a peer whom I heard called earl and baron Pembroke,¹⁶⁷ and right near him sat the earl of Salisbury, who remained loyal to the end, so much did he bear a tender love for the King; [fo. 58v.] the earl of Umestat¹⁶⁸ was there, so I heard.

All the other earls, lords and the greatest of the land were of that assembly, all wishing and planning to elect another King: in fine array were the earls of Northumberland and Westmorland,¹⁶⁹ on their feet all day, and for the better accomplishment of the part they had to play, they often fell to their knees; I know not why.

§49 Lines 2529–2549. The Archbishop of Canterbury's sermon.

Then the Archbishop of Canterbury¹⁷⁰ stood up and preached before the people in Latin: Habuit Jacob benedictionem a patre suo,¹⁷¹ how Jacob had received the blessing instead of Esau, even though Esau was the elder son of Isaac; that is true. Alas! What a text for a sermon! He preached it in order to demonstrate, in conclusion, that King Richard should have no share [fo. 59r.] in the kingdom of England, and that the prince¹⁷² should have had the realm and the land. These people had completely forgotten that they had all – great and small – acknowledged King Richard as their rightful King and lord for twenty-two years; subsequently in an arbitrary judgement they deposed him by common accord.

§50 Lines 2550–2578. A document is read out which claims that Richard has resigned the throne.

When the archbishop had finished his sermon in Latin, a lawyer¹⁷³ who was also a notary and a very learned scholar got up and asked for silence. He began to read aloud a document which said that Richard – formerly King of England – had in another place, confessed, freely and without use of force, that he was neither capable nor worthy: wise, circumspect nor benevolent enough to rule; he wanted to relinquish the crown into the hands of another worthy man who was nobler and wiser than he. This is what they agreed to have been said – rightly or wrongly – [fo. 59v.] by King Richard, unlawfully imprisoned in London.

And then in this said Parliament the document was read before them all; the witnesses were bishops and abbots who swore – I know this well – that the document was completely genuine. Now look here! What testimony! No man ever heard such dishonesty.

§51 Lines 2579–2642. Lancaster is elected as the new King.

After the reading of the document all were silent. Then the archbishop got to his feet and continued his sermon, basing it on the aforesaid document; he spoke so loudly that he could be heard clearly:

‘Since King Richard – formerly King of England – in his own words and of his own free will has admitted and confessed that he is not fit, suitable nor wise enough to rule his kingdom, we should take thought and elect another King.’

Alas! Messeigneurs, what madness! [fo. 60r.] They were judge and one side of the argument. This was done neither legally nor loyally, for there were only three or four men there on the side of the former King; they would not have dared for anything to contradict what the others did and said. This was completely wrong, for they all concluded – great and small, without being of two or three opinions – that they wanted another King, who could do his duty better than King Richard had done.

When the archbishop had finished explaining in English what he wanted and what was in his heart, and the people had replied to what they had heard, he began to ask one by one:¹⁷⁴

‘Do you want the duke of York to be your King?’

They all replied:

‘No indeed.’

‘Would you then have his elder son, the duke of Aumale?’

‘Let no one talk to us any more of him,’ they replied in a loud voice.

Once again he asked: [fo. 60v.]

‘Do you want to have his younger son?’¹⁷⁵

‘Indeed no, in truth,’ they said.

He asked them about many others, but the people did not grasp at any of those he named. Then the archbishop stopped and was silent for a long time. Then he asked in a loud voice:

‘Do you want the duke of Lancaster?’

‘Yes! We want none other,’ they all replied, so loudly that – as it was told to me – it seemed a wonder to relate.

Afterwards they praised Jesus Christ, as it is contained in Holy Writ.

§52 Lines 2643–2660. The election of the new King is confirmed.

When the bishops and prelates, who omitted to do the right thing, along with the foremost lords – who forfeited their honour on the day of that election – heard the questions answered without dispute, they then like false and frenzied traitors, along with the others: knights, squires, villeins, archers and the whole body of the commons, said implacably [fo. 61r.] that the man who did not agree with them deserved to die.

And thus the spurious, false and wicked questions were asked three times; it will be held against them for ever as an evil sin.

§53 Lines 2661–2682. Lancaster accepts the crown.

Then they wrote these things down in documents: letters, charters and deeds, in the presence of all those in the hall, which was neither squalid nor dirty but very richly decorated in a fitting manner. The archbishops¹⁷⁶ rose together – it seemed to me – and went directly to the duke, who had now been elected by all the Commons. They both fell to their knees and said:

‘The great lords who are here, and also the prelates, in good order elect you and nominate you as King. Decide whether you accept.’

Then duke Henry who was on his knees at that moment, with sound judgement got up and said to them all that he accepted the crown, since it was God's will.

§54 Lines 2683–2748. Ceremonial of making Lancaster King. He ascends the throne.

[fo. 61v.] Then he himself questioned everyone¹⁷⁷ and asked if it was their will. They replied:

‘Yes, in truth,’ tremendously loudly.

This stirred him so much that he immediately accepted the crown of England.

The archbishops, both kneeling on the ground, took great pains to read aloud the rite and everything the new King was bound to observe. With many ceremonies and cultish practices they placed a cross upon his head and over his whole body, as the custom is there. Both archbishops kissed him and they then picked up the magnificent ring¹⁷⁸ worn by their Kings, with which it is their custom to marry their Kings; they say that this is the law. They both carried it to the Constable – Lord Percy,¹⁷⁹ a noble knight – [fo. 62r.] and when he had possession of the ring he showed it round to those present; then he kneeled down and placed the ring in marriage on the King's finger. But I would not give a farthing for this rite, since it was performed without law or justice; I am not saying that this would not be an honourable ceremony had it been done as it should be done. The Constable kissed the King on the lips as a proper conclusion to what they were doing; I know not what this means.

The two archbishops immediately came back to the King, who was splendidly attired, and led him by the arms to the richly decorated throne which stood near there. The King kneeled before it and prayed. Then like a second Solomon he addressed everyone there, most particularly the prelates [fo. 62v.] and then the great lords, in Latin and English.

When he had finished what he had to say, with no dissenting voice raised, he took his seat on the throne. Alas! King Richard was deprived of it for good, so much did they hate him; but please God, they will do the same to the one whom they have placed on it.

§55 Lines 2749–2772. The new Constable is confirmed in office.

He sat on the throne without speaking for a long time and made no sound, for everyone there was praying devoutly for the prosperity, authority, peace and health of the new King whom they had elected.

When everyone there had finished praying, the Constable, who was not yet established or confirmed in his office – where there should be no sin – was summoned publicly; he kneeled humbly before Henry and the lords. He was there elected [fo. 63r.] Constable by the greatest in the land without opposition, and then Henry gave into his hands the golden staff, which should incline him to worthy deeds at all times, if he intends to do his duty.

§56 Lines 2773–2794. High officers of state are elected.

Afterwards everyone there elected a new Marshal¹⁸⁰ and then they all in good form swore allegiance to Henry and paid homage to him. Afterwards they elected a very wise man as Chancellor,¹⁸¹ and having done this they installed the Keeper of the Privy Seal;¹⁸² they ended by filling a great number of other offices.

Next the archbishop rose to his feet and recited several Latin rites, urging them to pray loyally for the prosperity of the King and of his kingdom; he repeated this in English. When he finished what he had to say, they all of high and low degree sat down as one man.

§57 Lines 2795–2832. Lancaster's eldest son is made Prince of Wales. 13 October is set for the coronation of the new King.

[fo. 63v.] Then duke Henry got to his feet. His eldest son kneeled down humbly in front of him; he created him Prince of Wales¹⁸³ in the presence of everyone there, and granted him the land. But I think he will have to fight for it if he wants to possess it, for the Welsh would not recognize him as their lord at any price – I think – on account of the pain, the grief and the great disgrace that the English under his father had heaped on King Richard. Then everyone individually swore allegiance, loyalty, help and comfort to the said prince, as they had to the duke. He made his second son duke of Lancaster¹⁸⁴ unconditionally; everyone was very happy at that.

Afterwards all the prelates, dukes, princes, earls – it seems to me – and the whole body of the Commons bowed their heads before the duke with most profound reverence, as a sign of their submission to him. And then by common accord and without dispute – as I heard it said – [fo. 64r.] they chose as duke Henry's coronation day St Edward's day, 13 October; they were very impatient at such a long delay.

They did nothing else that day, except to say that anyone who does not greatly rejoice over the election will perhaps lose his head.

§58 Lines 2833–2932. Lancaster creates forty-five new knights. He is crowned and a feast follows.

As you have heard – and as he who heard the whole affair and what Parliament did related to me – the former King was deposed without justification, unlawfully and with no half measures; it will be held against them for ever as an evil sin.

When they had done the deed and deposed good King Richard and shut him up in their prison – and this was a great wrong – very early on the following Sunday nearest the coronation Henry summoned the greatest lords of England to come to the Court in London. And in order to win for himself praise and honour he dubbed a great number of knights in the presence of them all. Thus was it told me by him who was there, and who gave the number as [fo. 64v.] forty-five, neither more nor less; you can be sure – as he said – that his younger son¹⁸⁵ was the first. Then he had a mind to ride through London on this very day, without staying any longer at Court, and the new knights, well arrayed, all rode together with him.

Thus did that day pass and the Wednesday arrived when – as I told you before – he was to be crowned. So he was, and in order to celebrate the coronation more fully, four dukes ritually carried above his head a rich pall of cloth of gold. The duke of York was first and then the good duke of Surrey, who did not do it sincerely, for he loved King Richard and was always of his party, whatever they made him do. To complete their work of destruction, the duke of Aumale¹⁸⁶ was the third, who carried out the task willingly, for he was not loyal, as you will hear below; [fo. 65r.] the fourth knew what he was doing and was called the duke of Gloucester.¹⁸⁷ These four dukes – rightly or wrongly – by common assent bore the pall above their King, who was handsomely accoutred.

And when he was crowned King they returned to the Court where dinner was very richly prepared; this is how it was. After duke Henry the Archbishop of Canterbury was seated first at the royal table, have no fear of that. The duke occupied the very middle of the table which was conspicuously raised up two and a half feet higher than the two ends, as he who was present told me; he said that the middle part of the table was two arms’ lengths¹⁸⁸ long or more. Furthermore he told me that several new bishops, neither true nor loyal but unjustly appointed, were also sitting at the King's table.

His elder son, in fine array, who was made Prince of Wales, was holding in his hand [fo. 65v.] a sword for jousting; but I heard no man say what this means. He was on his father's right hand, and next to him was a knight who was holding the sceptre capped with a cross. To the left – as I believe – was the new Constable who displayed the Constable's sword in front of the table; it was meant for administering justice. But at that time neither the Constable nor his sword were functioning as they should, for without restraint and with neither rhyme nor reason, but full of wickedness, evil and disloyalty, they persisted in their behaviour, as their actions reveal.

§59 Lines 2933–2984. The feast continues and homage is paid to Henry. The King's Champion enters.

The new Marshal was there, standing in front of Henry and holding the royal sceptre; he was the earl of Westmorland. Next the earl of Warwick,¹⁸⁹ whom they hold in very high esteem, was bread-bearer for the day. The great cup-bearer was the earl of Arundel¹⁹⁰ (who is young and fleet of foot). The Marquis carved at dinner; that was how they arranged things.

[fo. 66r.] The duke of Aumale served him with wine, but before the duke's table was cleared, the Steward,¹⁹¹ the Marshal and the Constable rode into the hall; they remained there in front of the table until it was cleared. And to honour the duke even more, a knight called Thomas Dymock¹⁹² entered the hall on a mailed horse, well armed and ready for battle, and said: if there be any man – of high or low degree – who maintained that King Henry was not lord and rightful King of all England, then he challenged him to fight to the death. No man reacted to this. He rode three or four times around the hall, offering himself for combat, as he had said.

After dinner the greatest lords of England, without demur, together paid homage to duke Henry. But some there were who did not act [fo. 66v.] with a sincere heart, rather had they already plotted to kill him, since he had this day had himself wrongly crowned by force of arms. They planned to have a great feast day arranged this coming Christmas at Windsor Castle (which is very strong and fine).

§60 Lines 2985–3050. The plot to kill Henry.

Thus was the feast day arranged, but those who schemed to carry out their plot planned to joust against all-comers, of high and low degree: there was the good duke of Surrey, who was always loyal and true to his lord, King Richard; Salisbury was on his side. Those two organized the jousting against all-comers – and I esteem them much for this – so that under cover of the feast day they could bring in there many men-at-arms to achieve their ends: their dearest wish was to kill duke Henry as they had undertaken to do. But subsequently they were captured [fo. 67r.] and shamefully put to death, for the treacherous duke of Aumale¹⁹³ betrayed them, in which he did great wrong: he was of their party and had sworn faith and loyalty to them and that he would help in any way to make their plot succeed. The duke of Exeter also knew all about their plans and was in league with them; he had reason to be, as he was brother german to good King Richard, the former King whom they had unanimously deposed and deprived of the fair crown of England. Therefore no one should be surprised that they wanted to do their duty to place King Richard – who ought to be King of England for all of his life – back in possession of his kingdom and of his lands.

You will hear how the duke of Surrey and the earl of Salisbury, in order better to carry out their scheme in secret, laid their plans to ensure the success of their plot. They had big carts made and planned to place many men inside, [fo. 67v.] well equipped and well armed, who would be driven there covered up, as if they were suits of armour for the tourney, in order that they might more easily enter Windsor Castle, where the duke was said still to be. The men were commanded and told that as soon as they saw their masters, they should do their duty by killing those who were guarding the doors; and while they were doing that, their masters would hasten towards duke Henry and put him to death, without showing him any mercy.

§61 Lines 3051–3100. Rutland betrays the plot.

Their scheme was suspended at this point while Christmas approached, when the duke went to stay at Windsor to judge at the festivities that were going to take place. And then the duke of Surrey and the earl of Salisbury wrote a letter¹⁹⁴ which dealt solely with carrying out the plot. They had it taken to London by a trustworthy man, straight to the earl of Rutland,¹⁹⁵ (who was duke of Aumale at that time): begging him [fo. 68r.] to be ready to come to them to carry out their plot as they had vowed together; and that he bring all his men with him, so that should there be anyone ready to oppose them, they can kill them or capture and put them to death without delay.

But when the duke of Aumale saw in the letter the commands to which he was held by his promise and by his pledged word, he pretended to be very eager to set off at top speed to obey the summons that the lords had sent him. Alas! He was not without blame: he never will be, for he does not appear so, since he carried the lords’ letter to the old duke of York – his father – sparing the lords nothing. He knew for sure that the duke – his father – did not love them or King Richard; rather was he of duke Henry's party having sworn liege homage to him.

When the duke of York saw what was in the letter and what its aim was, he frowned angrily [fo. 68v.] and had a great number of men brought to him, saying,

‘Take my son to the King, so that he can relate to him the great crime that is planned against him; it was thought up in an evil hour.’

§62 Lines 3101–3130. Henry escapes.

The duke of Aumale left his father and went down hastily to Windsor; he gave his letter to duke Henry and revealed the whole plot to him. But the duke did not believe him, until that very day the mayor came with all speed from London and confirmed the plot from beginning to end.

When Henry heard this, he would not have waited there longer at any price. He quickly mounted on horseback for fear that he would be overthrown that day by his enemies. He set out on the road to London, he and the mayor with his men. They made great haste, but before they could arrive in London, those who wanted to kill him were already inside [fo. 69r.] Windsor Castle to carry out their plot. But when they discovered that the duke had left, they were very unhappy that they had not captured him and that he had thus escaped.

§63 Lines 3131–3158. The rebel lords move to Cirencester. They put it about that King Richard is free; his chaplain Maudelyn is to impersonate him.

They retreated from Windsor and went to Cirencester – a town that is quite near there – where they had a very large force of their men-at-arms: they all wanted to use their bodies and their weapons to restore King Richard, who in justice should be King for all of his life. They drew their men up in good order for riding; with them were many archers and they said that good King Richard had escaped from prison and was there with them.

To make this more believable they took along a chaplain, who resembled good King Richard so closely in face, body, actions and words that anyone seeing him would have testified that he was the former King; he was called Maudelyn.¹⁹⁶ [fo. 69v.] I saw him often in Ireland riding through woods and plains with King Richard, his master; never did I see such a handsome priest.

§64 Lines 3159–3222. The rebel lords attempt to rally the country for King Richard but are defeated in battle. Exeter, Surrey and Salisbury are executed.

They had the above-named Maudelyn dressed in kingly armour with his helmet sumptuously crowned, so that people would really think that the King was out of prison. They then intended to ride around the country to rally all the friends and allies of King Richard. Alas! They were too late, for without delay duke Henry, who wanted them dead, swiftly sent there so many men, that none of those whom he wished to capture escaped.

They did their bounden duty to fight them off for a long time, but there were a hundred or more men against ten, as I heard. Those fought like false and frenzied traitors until they gained the upper hand and captured all the rebel lords by force, which was a great shame, for they had to suffer bitter death, as you will hear tell. [fo. 70r.] First of all they beheaded the duke of Exeter, next the good duke of Surrey, who was always loyal and true, and then the earl of Salisbury was not forgotten in this tally; they had these three put to death shamefully and unlawfully.

Afterwards the heads were carried to London amid great rejoicing. They were nailed up on lances on London Bridge, high enough for them to be easily seen. But to tell you the truth, they did not leave the duke of Exeter's head there long; it only stayed there a day and a night, because he was married to duke Henry's sister.¹⁹⁷

Now may God, who suffered death to redeem sinners from the infernal agonies of hell, preserve their souls in heaven, for at all times they were worthy men, loyal and bold, in word, thought and deed; so much so that one could not find three such knights in all England today, for they remained faithful [fo. 70v.] and devoted unto death. But if they were mindful of God and His holy Passion, I understand and believe that they are in Paradise above, for their blood was shed as martyrs¹⁹⁸ loyally defending what was right in all respects.

§65 Lines 3223–3234. Richard is told the bad news.

Shortly afterwards good King Richard was told the whole truth of the sorrowful affair, which was distressing for him to hear, and that was no surprise. Weeping he then said,

‘Death, get ready to attack me, no one can help me any longer, since I have lost my friends. Sweetest God, who was hung on the Cross, have mercy on me, for I can live no longer like this.’

§66 Lines 3235–3266. Richard refuses to eat and dies.

When the King received this bad news, his heart filled so much with anger that, from that time onwards, he neither ate not drank, and thus it was that he died, so they say. But really I do not believe that this was so, since some men say that for sure he is still alive and well and [fo. 71r.] shut up in their prison – which is a great crime on their part – even although they had a dead man carried openly through London – this was no lie – with all the honour and ceremony due to a deceased King, saying that it was the body of King Richard, who had died.

Duke Henry made a pretence¹⁹⁹ of mourning, holding in front of him the pall covering the coffin. Behind him walked his kinsmen, in good array; they had no knowledge of King Richard or the crimes that they had committed against him. This will weigh on them in the presence of God on the Last Day, when He will condemn the wicked into the flames of hell which burn for ever.

§67 Lines 3267–3312. Richard's funeral.

As you hear tell, they carried the body directly to St Paul's in London, honourably and fittingly, as was appropriate for a King. But certainly I do not believe that it was the former King, rather do I believe that it was his chaplain Maudelyn, who resembled him so closely in appearance, breadth, height and build [fo. 71v.] that everyone firmly thought that it was good King Richard.

And if it was him, I pray earnestly and continually to our merciful and benevolent God that He may receive his soul in heaven above, for he hated all vice and evil, as I believe. I saw in him nothing but goodness and his Christian faith; I served him for seven²⁰⁰ months to the best of my ability, in order that I might in some way merit the gifts he had promised me.

Certainly he was only deposed and betrayed because he faithfully loved the King of France – his father-in-law – with a true heart, as much as any man alive. This was the root of their hatred, even although they alleged that in his folly he had had the dukes – his uncles²⁰¹ – foully murdered, and that he was neither wise nor capable enough to rule the kingdom. I could tell you plenty of other things that they say, but certainly I think I have told you [fo. 72r.] the truth as I understand it. If I had to surrender my soul, I would continue to think in this way; being a wicked and capricious race, they have a mortal hatred of the French, if only they dared to show it.

§68 Lines 3313–3405. Henry sends ambassadors to Charles VI: amongst other things he wants a marriage between Queen Isabella and the Prince of Wales.

The Commons crowned duke Henry after he had accomplished the greater part of what he wanted and deposed good King Richard. Then he appointed his official ambassadors and messengers (who were very wise) – clerks and laymen – and sent them to Calais bearing letters of credence to the King of France.

The bishop of Durham²⁰² was of their number – so I heard – and Sir Thomas Percy,²⁰³ who was happy to do his master's bidding; also Sir William Heron,²⁰⁴ who knew what he was doing. These three came across to justify the crime that their new King had committed against the King of France²⁰⁵ [fo. 72v.] who had showered him with such great honours when he was unhappily banished from England. The said ambassadors promptly sent a herald (who was wise, cunning and circumspect) to Paris to ask for their safe-conduct, for thus were they instructed by their master when they left.

The herald was made to leave Paris swiftly without a reply, a safe-conduct or a summons, for the King would not suffer them to come to negotiate with him. Rather did he send Master Pierre Blanchet²⁰⁶ and Henart de Kanbenart²⁰⁷ to them at Calais to find out what they wanted; these two travelled together. There the English ambassadors greeted them – it seems to me – with much reverence and courtesy, saying that there had been a great revolution in their country, and that they had chosen a new King following the decree and good advice of the Commons of England, without anyone finding fault with that.

Words could not express [fo. 73r.] the great affection that this King felt towards his cousin – the King of France – so tenderly did he love him and would continue to love him throughout his life; for as long as he lived he would be greatly attached to him, as he had received him most splendidly in his country.

‘And to nurture the love, well-being, peace and health of the two kingdoms this King would like a marriage to be arranged in France – so it seemed to us – between the Queen and his son, the Prince,²⁰⁸ and between him and another lady of royal blood who conquers his heart: thus great joy and many advantages could fall on the two kingdoms – certainly no Christian in this world could wish for more – and he would like a lasting peace to be announced throughout the two countries.’

But when they had delivered their message to the French, these latter replied, before [fo. 73v.] they left the place, saying:²⁰⁹

‘Messeigneurs, God forbid that we give one word in reply to this matter, for it is too important an affair. We are only instructed to report your request and what you say to the King of France, our master.’

§69 Lines 3406–3494. French ambassadors are sent to Boulogne to hear the English requests and to demand the return of Queen Isabella. She arrives at Calais on 25 July 1401.

Thus without saying another word the French messengers left the English, who once more showed them prodigious honour and reverence. They returned directly to France, to Paris where the King was; he was most anxious to know the English situation, and how they had deposed King Richard and put him to death.

The messengers made their report to the King in full Council, relating accurately the conduct of the English, and how they humbly begged for a safe-conduct. Then the Council very wisely agreed together – it seems to me – to send ambassadors of equal rank to hear their proposition [fo. 74r.] and what the English wanted. They should take pains to enquire about what the English had done; and the English should hand back the Queen with all speed, as they are obliged to do by their pledged word and the seals affixed to the documents drawn up when the marriage was arranged between King Richard and his wife. None of the French should be slow to petition them time and again, otherwise their behaviour will be wicked and disloyal and great harm will ensue in the two countries. They should have only one aim, and hide nothing that is right from the English; they should go directly without delay to Boulogne to hear and know what the English propose.

Thus in February the bishop of Chartres²¹⁰ left Paris first along with Monseigneur de Hugueville,²¹¹ stopping nowhere until they came to Boulogne; Master Pierre Blanchet²¹² was there, [fo. 74v.] also Master Gontier Col.²¹³ They had to put up with the rough and the smooth before they could win back the Queen, for in truth the English would make them no concessions, considering that the negotiations lasted twenty months before they repatriated the young Queen; they were always delaying until she would be twelve years old, so that her deeds and words, and anything they could have had her do, could never be undone. But they were entreated and petitioned so often by the French – showing them that they were very wrong to keep her, considering the agreement that was made on her marriage – that the English ordered her passage [to France].

On Tuesday 25 July around six o'clock in the morning, the Queen of England crossed from Dover to Calais; this was in the year 1401, as I understand. She was in splendid company, for she had with her some of the greatest ladies of England. When they had set foot on shore, [fo. 75r.] Hugueville who had crossed with her did not delay. Rather did he report immediately to the ambassadors at Boulogne what had happened, and how she had crossed over, and that the English intended to hand her back, as they had him understand.

§70 Lines 3495–3509. Queen Isabella moves from Calais to Leulingham.

On the following Sunday, the last day of July, without any more obstruction, the Queen left Calais with the English who could not find any more justifiable cause for delay, so much did the French petition them; they led her straight to Leulingham.²¹⁴ Right there she was met by those who were in the picture, that is the honest count of St Pol²¹⁵ – as everyone says – and with him the French ambassadors who had moved mountains to get her back.

§71 Lines 3510–3564. The handover of Isabella at Leulingham begins.

Near Leulingham the Queen entered an elegant pavilion that the English had erected in the valley. The high-born ladies of France approached, greatly wishing [fo. 75v.] to meet her. A little later – as it seems to me – they left there and everyone led the Queen to the chapel of Leulingham (which looks like everyone knows who has seen it).²¹⁶ And when she had come they made her enter, in the company of very few people: just the ambassadors of France and England, who had worked hard towards this.

When they were together in the chapel, a knight whom the English hold very dear – Sir Thomas Percy²¹⁷ – started speaking and said:

‘King Henry of England, my sovereign lord, wishing the fulfilment of his promise, has unconditionally and freely had the Queen of England brought here to hand her back to her father, the King of France; liberated, quit and free of all bonds of marriage and any other debt, [fo. 76r.] due, or commitment.’

Sir Thomas swore on the perdition of his soul that this was so, and furthermore that she was as pure and undefiled as on the day that she was taken in her litter to King Richard. And if there were anyone anywhere – king, duke, earl: Christian or non-believer: of high or low degree – who disputed this, Sir Thomas would straightway find an Englishman of equal rank to support his case; and would reveal the Queen's body²¹⁸ to the view of any appropriate judges, to show that she was as he said.

§72 Lines 3565–3601. The handover is completed and Isabella is back on French soil.

When he had had his say, the count of St Pol very smartly told him that – Jesus Christ be praised – they all firmly believed him without harbouring any doubts.

Then Sir Thomas Percy, weeping bitterly,²¹⁹ took the young Queen by the arms and handed her to the ambassadors there. And also they were given [fo. 76v.] certain letters of quittance which the French had promised; you should know that before the two sides left there, they shed most piteous tears. But when it came for her to leave the chapel, the Queen – whose heart shines with goodness – led out all the English ladies and gentlemen who were expressing their great sorrow in the French pavilions. They agreed to dine together; and so they did, as it seems to me. After the dinner the Queen called for a great quantity of very fine jewels and had them given to the noble English ladies and gentlemen who were weeping in great grief.

But the Queen comforted them and bade them farewell; then their lamentations broke out again when she had to take her leave.

§73 Lines 3602–3712. Isabella returns to Paris. Creton finishes by cursing the English; he wrote the Prinse et mort so that the truth of Richard's capture might be known.

The English and the French then parted, but I know it to be true that before the Queen of England was one league further on, [fo. 77r.] she came across my lord of Burgundy²²⁰ who had come from Boulogne to lay a secret ambush. The count of Nevers,²²¹ his elder son was there – you can all be sure of that – Monseigneur Antoine²²² was there too; there was also another great lord, the duke of Bourbon.²²³

They were accompanied by 500 lancers on foot, drawn up armed in the fields, so that if the English had changed their plans, or if they had thought to take the Queen away again – because of some dispute between the two sides – everyone would have done his duty to rescue her: and they would have charged the English through hills, plains and valleys until, despite them, the French would have taken the Queen forcibly back to her father, the King of France.

But I want you to see that they did not need to do this, for the English intended to restore [fo. 77v.] her out of England into her own country, with all the jewels she had in her possession when she left France after her marriage. She journeyed through France to Paris, where there were many tears shed and much joy on her arrival.

Now let us pray to God – who meekly let his naked body hang on the Cross to redeem sinners out of the hands of their false enemies in Hell – that He may take speedy revenge on the great evils, ingratitude, outrage and injustice committed by the foul English against their King and Queen; but let this be soon, for I swear in truth to you that I have a great desire to see it done, on account of the evil I have seen amongst them. If everyone knew what they want and how they hate the French, I think that within three months one would see many ships filled with provisions and supplies carrying battle to them, [fo. 78r.] for these are very wicked people, slow to do good; anyone can clearly see that.

If I have spoken too much about them in any way that causes offence, I humbly beg without bitterness to be pardoned. I swear by God and on my soul that to the best of my ability I have not laid at their door any wrongs that they have not committed, considering that I saw their actions for seven²²⁴ whole months and rode with them in diverse countries and places, in Ireland and England. And the good earl of Salisbury earnestly asked and begged me, when he was captured with King Richard, to spread abroad their crimes and disloyal treachery if I were able to return to France.

I gave him my faithful promise of my own free will, and for this reason I have taken pains to honour the vow I made him in the great distress and danger in which I left him; and also because I know [fo. 78v.] for sure that no one could have known the truth about the King's capture, and how he was falsely lured from his fine, strong Welsh castles through concord and negotiation with the earl of Northumberland, as I said before. And so I sincerely beg all who read to the end of this account which I wrote about the English and what they did, to pardon me if I made mistakes in versification, in rhyme or in my prose, for I am not skilled in them.

Amen.