Shakespeare's Kings (24 page)

duch
.
But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, One flourishing branch of his most royal root, Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt, Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe.

king richard ii

It
was
not
altogether
surprising
that,
for
well
over
a
year
after
the dissolution
of
the
Merciless
Parliament,
Richard
should
have
maintained an
uncharacteristically
low
profile.
His
innocence
had
been
proclaimed; but
he
had
been
badly
frightened
and
had
been
taught,
it
was
hoped, a
sharp
lesson.
He
conscientiously
performed
the
duties
expected
of him;
presided
over
another
parliament
held
at
Cambridge
in
the
autumn; made
no
protest
when
Gloucester,
Arundel
and
their
friends
took
over the
direction
of
the
government;
and
allowed
himself
only
one
furious and
understandable
outburst,
when
it
was
reported
to
him
that
the
Scots under
James,
Earl
of
Douglas,
had
once
again
crossed
the
border
and
on 5
August
1388
at
Otterburn
-
or
Chevy
Chase
-
between
Jedburgh
and Newcastle,
had
virtually
destroyed
an
English
army,
taking
prisoner Henry
Percy
(Shakespeare's
Harry
Hotspur),
its
commander.
Of
personal initiative
he
showed
no
sign
-
until,
on
3
May
1389,
he
quietl
y
and unprovocatively
informed
the
Council
that,
since
he
was
now
fully
of age
with
the
mistakes
of
his
youth
far
behind
him,
he
intended
henceforth to
rule
as
a
monarch
should,
and
as
his
grandfather
had
ruled
before
him.

It
says
much
for
the
improvement
in
the
domestic
situation
during the
previous
year
that
this
announcement
occasioned
little
concern to
those
who
heard
it.
Richard
was
by
now
four
months
past
his twenty-second
birthday;
he
could
not
be
kept
on
a
leading-rein
for
ever.
No
objections
were
raised.
Arundel
made
preparations
to
go crusading
in
Palestine,
while
Derby
and
Gloucester
preferred
the
company
of
the
Teutonic
Knights
in
Prussia.
Warwick
retired
to
his
estates. Meanwhile
the
sheriffs
throughout
the
land
were
instructed
to
make public
proclamations
to
the
effect
that
the
King
had
now
personally assumed
responsibility
for
government,
while
emphasizing
that
this would
be
administered
as
before
through
his
Council,
the
leading members
of
which
were
now
William
of
Wykeham,
Bishop
of
Winchester,
as
Chancellor;
Thomas
Brantingham,
Bishop
of
Exeter,
as Treasurer;
and
Edmund
Stafford,
Chancellor
of
Oxford
University
and Dean
of
York,
who
was
now
appointed
Keeper
of
the
Privy
Seal.

But
Ri
chard
had
not
altogether
regained
his
self-confidence;
he needed
further
support
of
the
kind
which
could
come
only
from
his own
family,
and
his
thoughts
inevitably
turned
towards
his
uncle,
John of
Gaunt.
Gaunt's
Spanish
campaign
had
been
only
a
modified
success. He
had
succeeded
in
marrying
off
his
elder
daughter
Philippa
to
King John
I
of
Portugal
and
his
younger,
Catherine
-
now
Catalina
-
to
the future
King
Henry
III
of
Castile,
from
whom
he
had
received
an indemnity
of
£100,000
and
an
annual
pension
of
£6,000
in
token
of his
renunciation
of
his
claims
to
that
kingdom;
but
he
had
achieved
no throne
for
himself,
and
no
permanent
peace
between
Castile
and
Aragon on
the
one
hand
and
England
on
the
other.
In
1387
he
had
left Spain
for
Gascony,
where
he
was
doubdess
kept
fully
informed
of
the disturbing
developments
at
home;
but
his
eldest
son's
identification with
the
Appellants
had
persuaded
him
-
probably
rightly
-
to
remain abroad
until
the
crisis
was
over.
Even
then
he
might
well
have
elected to
stay
in
France,
had
he
not
received
an
urgent
appeal
from
his
nephew to
return.
He
landed
in
England
in
November
13
89,
and
was
welcomed with
open
arms.
All
past
differences
were
forgotten:
henceforth
John stood
at
the
King's
right
hand.

Richard
was
now
steadily
strengthening
his
own
position;
one
fear, however,
continued
to
disturb
him.
He
could
not
forget
the
veiled threat
made
to
him
by
his
uncle
three
years
before,
the
reminder
of
the deposition
of
his
great-grandfather
Edward
II
and
the
warning
that
he himself
might
suffer
a
similar
fate.
In
the
autumn
of
1390
we
find him
at
Gloucester,
where
Edward
was
buried,
arranging
for
perpetual devotions
at
his
shrine
and
seeking
confirmation
of
the
miracles
that were
said
to
have
taken
place
there
-
a
necessary
preliminary
before submitting
to
the
Pope
a
request
for
his
canonization.
A
year
later
he extracted
from
Parliament
a
guarantee
that
he
would
be
'as
free
in
his regality,
liberty
and
royal
dignity
as
any
of
his
noble
progenitors
.
.
. notwithstanding
any
former
statute
or
ordinance
to
the
contrary,
notably in
the
time
of
King
Edward
the
Second
who
lies
at
Gloucester
.
.
.
and that
if
any
statute
was
made
in
the
time
of
the
said
King
Edward,
in derogation
of
the
liberty
and
franchise
of
the
Crown,
it
should
be annulled.'