a lively memory of the arbitrary fact, Richard's political conduct was not much to complain of. But his personal character was rapidly deteriorating. He lived in a continual course of feasting and dissipation, and thus wasted the funds he had received with the queen, and the resources derived from his people.
Amongst the principal favourites of this time were his half-brother, the murderer, Sir John Holland, who had been on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in penance for his crimes, and now was dignified with the title of the Earl of Huntingdon, as his brother was of the Earl of Kent.
Through the hands of these men all favours and honours passed, and we cannot suppose that their conversations and counsels were very good for him. His household was on a most ruinous scale, consisting, it is said, of not less than 10,000 persons, and the riot and follies carried on there excited great disgust.
All these matters were carefully noted by the discontented Duke of Gloucester, still more morose from the king's refusal of his daughter, on the plea of her being too near akin. Gloucester, during the whole marriage visit to France, did not conceal his hostility to the alliance. It was in vain that the king made him rich presents to win his good-will. He was still sullen, morose, and destitute of all courtesy, returning the attentions of the nobles with abrupt and curt answers, so that they said amongst themselves, if ever Gloucester could stir up a war he would.
On his return home after the marriage, he disdained to cultivate the friendship of his nephew. On the contrary, he did everything possible to excite faction and mischief. He never attended the council except for the purpose of thwarting its proceedings. He came late, departed early, and while present treated the king with the most insolent air of superiority, often throwing out remarks, that he might hear them, on his conduct as effeminate and unlike that of his great ancestors. He talked in this manner to the warriors of the late reign, drawing comparisons between their days and deeds and the present.
These acts produced murmurs everywhere. The Commons, on the meeting of Parliament, presented a Bill to the Lords, proposing the regulation of the king's household, complaining especially that so many bishops who had lordships of their own, and so many ladies with their servants, were always at the palace, and supported at the public cost. Richard, indignant at this bold measure, demanded who was the author of it; and it is curious that it turned out to be one Sir Thomas Haxey, a clergyman, proving that the clergy at that time sat in Parliament, and the complaint itself that the bishops of those days were not averso to life, however gay, at a royal palace. Haxey was threatened with death, but was spared at the entreaty of the bishops—the very class he had complained of; but an Act was immediately passed by the submissive Parliament, that whoever again should make any such motion in the Commons, or should in any way attempt to reform the royal conduct, rule, or authority, should be held to be a traitor.
This only strengthened the hands of Gloucester. He was eagerly listened to by all classes. The knights and barons were influenced by his representations of the glories won in the late reigns, and of the ease with which the wealth of France might be won by the superiority of their English valour. The people seized eagerly on the same ideas; all combined to echo the charges of the pusillanimity of the king, and to applaud Gloucester as the greatest of patriots, and the champion of the British honour and advancement. His great abilities, his affable manners, his vast wealth, and his royal blood, all were placed in the scale against the voluptuous king, and made a profound impression.
It is asserted by Froissart that Gloucester did not confine himself to seditious language, but had actually proposed to his nephew, Roger Mortimer, the Earl of March, whom Richard had declared his successor, to give him immediate possession of the throne; and when that nobleman declined the offer, had laid a plan with his two brothers, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Earls of Arundel and Warwick, to depose Richard.
Whether this last assertion be true or not, the temper and conduct of Gloucester now became such as naturally excited the resentment of Richard. He appeared at first only desirous to got him out of the way: for which purpose he gave him permission to join the Christians who were fighting against the infidels in Prussia; but, though he set out, he returned in a few days, saying he had been driven back by a tempest. He then appointed him governor of Ireland; but Gloucester made no attempt to go over and assume that office.
This conduct of the Duke of Gloucester at length wore out the patience of Richard. He remembered vividly his past offences: he saw no means of dissipating his obstinate contempt and hostility. His favourites, with whom Gloucester kept no terms, urged him to severe measures; and the court of France, which he had insulted by his sullen aversion, and which beheld in him an avowed enemy to its peace and its alliance, strongly stimulated the king to provide for his own safety and that of his queen, by depriving the traitorous prince of his power to carry out his designs.
No sooner did Richard resolve to follow this advice than he put his resolve into execution. He invited the Earl of Warwick to dinner, and then, being off his guard, he had him arrested at the house of the chancellor, near Temple Bar, and committed to the Tower. The primate was made use of to bring his brother, the Earl of Arundel, to a private interview with the king, who instantly arrested him and sent him to Carisbrook Castle. But perhaps the most revolting of these insidious modes of seizure was that of the Duke of Gloucester himself. Richard, while intending to sacrifice his uncle's life, did not hesitate to make a visit to him at his castle of Pleshy, in Essex, where Gloucester, coming forth with his wife and daughter to meet him, without any suspicion, according to the account of the rolls of Parliament, "domino regi cum processiono solemni humiliter occurrontem," he caused him to be seized and hurried on board a vessel by the earl marshal, and conveyed to Calais. It is said by contemporary chroniclers that, while this was doing, Richard was conversing in a friendly guise with the duchess. Froissart says Richard was kindly entertained, requested Gloucester to accompany him to London, and had him seized on the way. This does not appear probable if the parliamentary rolls are correct. But in any case the manner of the thing was treacherous, and unworthy of a great monarch. The sudden disappearance of the duke alarmed all his
