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TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF BICHARD FITZALAN.
He was again asked whether he would deny that he had made any such rade with the persons before named, and that in company of them he entered not armed unto the King's presence against the King's will and pleasure. To this he answered he could not deny it, but that he so did.
Then the speaker, Sir Johr Bushie, with open mouth besought that judgment might be had against such a traitor; and "your faithful commons," said he to the King, “ ask and require that so it may be done.” The Earl, turning his head aside, quietly said to him, “ Not the King's faithful commons ” require this, “ but thou, and what thou art I know.” Then the eight appellants standing on the other side, cast their gloves at him, and in prosecuting their appeal—which already had been read-offered to fight with him, man to man, to justify the same. “ Then," said the Earl, “ if I were at libertie, and that it might so stande with the pleasure of my sovereign, I would not refuse to prove you all liars in this behalfe.”
Then spake the Duke of Lancaster, saying to him, “What have you further to say to the points laid before you?” He answered, that of the King's grace he had his letters of general pardon, which he required to have allowed. Then the duke told him that the pardon was revoked by the prelates and noblemen in Parliament; and therefore willed him to make some other answer.
The Earl told him again that he had another pardon under the King's great seal, granted him long after the King's own motion, which also he required to have allowed. The Duke told him that the same was likewise revoked. After this, when the Earl had nothing more to say for himself, the Duke pronounced judgment against him as in cases of treason is used.
But after he had made an end, and paused a little, he said, “ The King our sovereign lord of his mercy and grace, because thou art of his blood, and one of the Peers of the realm, hath remitted all other pains, saving the last that is to say, the beheading, and so thou shalt only lose thy head;"—and forthwith he was had away, and led through London, unto the Tower-hill. There went with him to see the execution done, six great lords, of whom there were three earls, Nottingham, that had married his daughter; Kent, that was his daughter's son; and Huntington, being mounted on great horses, with a great company of armed men, and the fierce bands of the Cheshiremen, furnished with axes, swords, bows and arrows, marching before and behind him, who only in this parliament had licence to bear weapon, as some have written. When he should depart the palace, he desired that his hands might be loosed to dispose of such money as he had in his purse, betwixt that place and Charing Cross. This was permitted; and so he gave such money as he had in alms with his own hands, but his arms were still bound behind hiin.
When he came to the Tower-hill, the noblemen that were about him moved him right earnestly to acknowledge his treason against the king. But he in no wise would do so; but maintained that he was never traitor in word nor deed; and herewith perceiving the Earls of Nottingham and Kent, that stood by with other noblemen, busy to further the execution, and being, as ye have heard, of kin, and allied to him, he spake to them, and said, “ Truly it would have beseemed you rather to have been absent, than here at this business. But the time will come ere it be long, when as many shall marvel at your misfortune as do now at mine." After this, forgiving the executioner, he besought him not to torment him long, but to strike off his head at one blow, and feeling the edge of the sword, whether it was sharp enough or not, he said, “It is very well, do that thou hast to do quickly,"—and so kneeling down, the executioner with one stroke, strake off his head. “Then returned they that were at the execution and shewed the kinge merily of the death of the erle ; but although the kinge was then merry and glad that the dede was done, yet after exceedingly vexed was he in his dremes.” The Earl's body was buried, together with his head, in the church of the Augustine Friars in Bread-street, within the city of London.
The death of this earl * was much lamented among the people, considering his sudden fall and miserable end, whereas, not long before among all the noblemen of this land, there was none more esteemed; so noble and valiant he was that all men spake honour of him.
After his death, as the fame went, the king was sore vexed in his sleep with horrible dreams, imagining that he saw this earl appear unto him, threatening him, and putting him in horrible fear, as if he had said with the poet to King Richard
“ Nunc quoque factorum venio memor umbra tuorum,
In sequor et vultus ossea forma tuos.”—
With which visions being sore troubled in sleep, he cursed the day that ever he knew the earl. And he was the more unquiet, because he heard it reported that the common people took the earl for a martyr, insomuch that some came to visit the place of his sepulture, for the opinion they had conceived of his holiness. And, when it was bruited abroad, as for a miracle, that his head should be grown to his body again, the tenth day after his burial; the king sent about ten of the clock in the night certain of the nobi.
* “ The constancy of this Earl's courage,” says action, encreased the envy of his death upon his Speed, “ as well as his arraignement, passage, and his persecutors. That he was a traitor either in execution, in which he did not discolour the honour word or deed, he utterly did deny, and died in that of his blood with any degenerous word, look, or denial."-Speed, 739.
NIGHT SCENE. — FITZALAN'S TOMB
lity to see his body taken up, that he might be certified of the truth. Which done, and perceiving it was a fable, he commanded the friars to take down his arms, that were set up about the place of his burial, and to cover the grare, so as it should not be perceived where he was buried.
In less than two years, however, King Richard himself was a captive in the hands of his subjects Young Arundel and the son of the late Duke of Gloucester were appointed his keepers. “Here,” said Lancaster, as he delivered * Richard into their custody t, “ here is the king; he was the murderer of your fathers; I expect you to be answerable for his safety."
During the first five years of Henry the Fourth, young Arundel, among other services, shared with his sovereign the reverses which attended his invasion of the Welsh frontier, and his campaign against Owen Glendower.—But at length the scenes of the camp gave place to domestic festivities ; and his approaching marriage with Donna Béatrice, daughter of John the First, king of Portugal, was publicly announced. Great preparations were made to receive the bride with all the honours due to her beauty and station; the royal palace and the earl's ancestral castle were sumptuously fitted up for her reception. She left Portugal with a splendid retinue, made a prosperous voyage, and arrived in London in the middle of November. On the twenty-sixth of the same month the solemnity took place in the Royal Chapel, where, in the presence of the King and Queen, Donna Béatrice gave her hand to the young Earl of Arundel.
“ In the form and manner as you have heard did Duke Henry take King Richard, his lord. The duke led him straight to the Castle, which is fair and strong, and caused him to be lodged in the dungeon. And then he gave him in keeping to the son of the Duke of Gloucester, Humphrey Plantagenet; and Thomas Fitzalan, the son of the Earl
of Arundel; who hated him more than any man in the world, because King Richard had put their fathers to death,”—French Metrical History, deposition of King Richard, Archæologia, vol. xx. 173. By the Rev. John Webb, M.A.; also Dallaway,
+ Froissart, vol. ii. 295. Dallaway, 139.
Their subsequent arrival at Arundel, and the rejoicings which there met the royal bride, may be better imagined than described. All that could add to the splendour of the gala was ingeniously arranged and displayed; and on her triumphant entry under the old Norman gateway of her husband's castle, Donna Béatrice might well confess that “the castled heights of Algarva were not so beautiful as the verdant hills, and embattled towers, of Arundel.”
Among the personal exploits by which his brief career was subsequently distinguished, is the following.—During the excitement which prevailed in France in consequence of the murder of the Duke of Orleans, “the author of that assassination, Charles Duke of Burgundy, now taking the alarm, applied to the English monarch for assistance." His request was instantly complied with; for Henry had “private motives which prompted him in this instance.”
Arundel, at the head of a strong body of archers and men-at-arms,
was despatched to join the Burgundian leader, whom he met at Arras; and thence directing their march upon the capital, arrived on the twentythird of October. The first point of attack was St. Cloud, where Arundel took charge of the assault, and marching his men to the bridge which here crosses the Seine, carried it by storm; took possession of the town with severe loss to the enemy, and returned with numerous prisoners, immense booty, and the thanks of the Burgundian chief.
The same Earl was also present at the siege of Harfleur, in the subsequent reign; and under both sovereigns held many distinguished posts of high trust and honour. But returning from the last campaign in ill health, he died at his paternal seat of Arundel, where a magnificent monument, quartered with the royal arms of Portugal, attests his virtues and patriotic services.
Of John Fitzalan, the eighth Earl, the public services and achievements, “ during the French wars," are not sufficiently prominent to demand any special notice in these pages; but John Fitzalan, the ninth Earl, is justly celebrated for his abilities both as a soldier and a senator.
In the grand tournament * which took place in the French capital in honour of the coronation of Henry the Fifth, the English monarch, there was a brilliant display of all that was most dazzling to the eye, and daring to the imagination. But at the close of the scenes in which the pride and prowess of chivalry were never more strikingly exemplified, Arundelt and the Comte de St. Pol, grand master of the household, were acknowledged to have carried away the prize from every competitor [.
* “ The next day after the coronation, were The French historians bear ample testimony kepte triumphant joustes and tourneys, in which the to his prowess:-“ Le Comte d'Arondelle, Anglais Erle of Arondelle and the Bâtard de St Pol, by de grande réputation, se mit en campagne pour the judgement of the ladyes, wanne the prize."- prendre des places sur les Français.”--Dallaway, Ilolinshed.
† Monstrelet, vii. 51. quoting Montfaucon, t. iii. 309.
AFFAIR OF GERBEROI. — JOHN FITZALAN.
Four years later, an event occurred which was destined to close his military career and carry him off in the blaze of his fame.” This happened in an attack upon the old castle of Gerberoi, near Beauvais, during the operations of the English army in Picardy.
Leaving Gournay at midnight, the Earl arrived in eight hours with the advanced guard in sight of the towers of Gerberoi. But in his impatience to reduce the fortress, he had miscalculated the strength of its walls and garrison, with the experience of its veteran commandant La Hire, and his own diminutive force. “ The enemy,” says Holinshed, “perceiving that his horses were weary and his archers not yet come up, determined to set upon him before the arrival of his footmen, which they knew to be a mile behind.” As soon as he came in sight the gates were suddenly thrown open, and three thousand troops rushing upon the handful of men under his command, threw them into confusion. An unequal conflict ensued-struck with panic, and pressed by an overwhelming majority, the rout of the English became general. Arundel, with a few undaunted followers, who had sworn to share his glory or his grave,
up his position in "a little close ” or corner of a field, where his rear was under cover of a strong hedge, threw up a hasty fortification of pointed stakes, and thus protected, kept the enemy at bay. But other and more powerful means of annoyance were at hand. La Hire ordered three culverins to be brought from the castle, and planted in front of the “ forlorn hope.” The first shot told sadly upon the members of this intrepid band;