The Star of Lancaster

Canterbury and the younger the Earl of Arundel whose father had been executed for treason.

It was natural that exiles should work together against a common enemy but the first thought that struck Henry was that his father John of Gaunt as Seneschal of England had been the one to pronounce sentence on the unfortunate Earl of Arundel—and how could he guess what the Arundels' feelings would be towards the son of John of Gaunt.

It soon became clear that past grievances must be forgotten. After all, although Henry had been a member of the court which had condemned the Earl of Arundel, he himself had not actually passed the fatal sentence; now they were all exiles from England and must join against the common enemy, Richard the King.

So Henry could draw comfort from the arrival of these two and in Paris they could discuss the fate which had overtaken them, through the misgovernment of Richard, and ponder as to what could be done about it.

The Archbishop had come from Rome where he had exhorted the Pope to request Richard to allow him to return, alas to no avail.

'One day,' he said, *I shall return. I am the Archbishop no matter whom the King should set up in my place.'

Henry agreed. It was comforting to have Englishmen of standing to share his fate. Oh yes indeed, let bygones be bygones. They had the future to think of.

Young Thomas Fitzalan the Earl of Arundel was the only surviving son of the executed Earl. He had been only sixteen when his father had died; it was not very long ago and he remembered it vividly. How could he forget? Not only had he lost his father, but the way of life to which he had been accustomed was drastically changed.

He told Henry what had happened to him. It had made him very bitter.

*My father's estates were confiscated. I had nothing ... nothing at all. The greatest misfortune of all was to be handed over to John Holland. Duke of Exeter now! He is greatly enriched but not through merit, simply because he is the King's half-brother. How I hate that man! He takes pleasure in humiliating those better than himself. Richard knows this and yet he goes on honouring him. He is unfit to move in noble circles. How he delighted in humiliating me. "You

would call yourself my lord Earl, would you?" he said to me. "Now your father has lost his head you would take his place, eh? Have a care that you do not follow too closely in his footsteps, my young brave." Then he took off his boots, threw them at me and bade me clean them. I was treated as a servant, I tell you. I'll have my revenge on Holland one day.'

Yes, it was comforting talk, and each day the exiled Archbishop cast aside more of his grievances against the House of Lancaster. The three of them talked often and earnestly about events in England. They could do nothing as yet, but when the opportunity came they would be ready.

One day the great Due de Berri, uncle of the King, called at the Hotel Clisson. He was affable and showed signs of friendship towards Henry. He too talked of affairs in England. He had his spies in that country and he knew that the King's conduct was finding less and less favour with his people.

'The English have a way of chastising their kings if they do not please them, is that not so?' The Due laughed. 'Mon Dieu, England came very near to having a King from France in the reign of John, remember? Henry the Third, Edward the Second ... they had their troubles. It could well be the same with Richard. And then ... Ah, but we look too far ahead.'

Such talk created great excitement in Henry; but he had learned not to betray his feelings. At what was Berri hinting? That Richard might fall and then ... and then ...

His next words made his thoughts quite clear. Tou are a widower. You lost your good Countess. You are too young a man to remain unmarried eh? Particularly in view of your position. I have a daughter. Marie is a pretty girl. Well, perhaps you would consider this. If you were agreeable, I should raise no objections.'

He was decidedly agreeable. He felt exultant. Berri could only believe that Richard's throne was tottering and—oh intoxicating thought—that he, Henry of Lancaster, had a chance of attaining it. Only such a hope and a good chance of its becoming a certainty could have brought Berri to this.

Henry replied quietly, for he was determined not to appear too eager and it might be dangerous to utter a word which could be used against him, that he had not thought of remarrying as yet. He had been devoted to his countess; her death had been a great shock from which he had not yet recovered. He had four fine boys and two daughters so he need not

worry at this stage about his heirs. But he appreciated the honour done to him and if the Due de Berri would give him a little time ...

*A little, my friend/ cried the Due, 'but not too much. A girl such as my daughter has many suitors as you can imagine. You will let me know your answer within the week.*

When he had left Henry considered this. Marriage into the royal house of France. Richard would be deeply disturbed and Henry would be delighted to put Richard into that state.

He discussed the matter with the Archbishop and the Earl of Arundel.

*It can only mean one thing,' said the Archbishop. 'They know something of what is happening in England. Richard's crown is becoming more and more insecurely fixed on his head. It may well be that we shall not be long exiled from our native land.'

*Then you think I should accept this offer of Berri's daughter?'

'Undoubtedly yes.*

*I will appear to hesitate. I do not want him to think I am over eager.'

The Arundels agreed that this was the best way and they were excited guessing what events had come to the ears of the Due de Berri.

A few days later John Montacute, Earl of Salisbury arrived in Paris. He had come on an embassy from Richard and spent a good deal of time with the King and the Due de Berri.

He did not visit the Hotel Clisson which was perhaps to be expected as Henry was in exile and Montacute was the King's messenger.

Henry meanwhile had decided to agree to the suggested marriage but when he called on the Due de Berri he was told that it was impossible for him to have an audience. As the Due had advised him that there must be no delay in agreeing to the marriage with his daughter and he must have known that this was the reason for Henry's call, this was decidedly odd.

During the weeks which followed the Due was extremely cool to Henry whose pride forbade him to demand an explanation.

Eventually he did get one, though not from the Due de Berri.

Berri had decided that he no longer wished to receive Henry into his family and he had come to this conclusion after the arrival from England of the Earl of Salisbury. It was obvious. Richard had heard of the suggested marriage, had determined to stop it, and had sent Salisbury to Paris for that purpose. No doubt he had given the Due de Berri an account of the shortcomings of Henry of Bolingbroke, and done so so successfully that Berri no longer sought the alliance. It might have been that he was so impressed by Richard's prompt action that he thought it would be no easy matter to push him from his throne and if that was the case, of what use was the marriage of his daughter to a pretender to the crown of England?

Henry was despondent and was to be even more so for the King of France himself sent for him and when he stood before him bade him be seated for he was forced to say something which was very painful to him.

*As you know,' he said, *I have a great regard for the House of Lancaster and have been happy to welcome you at my Court. However, I have heard word from King Richard that he regards my hospitality to you as an unfriendly act towards himself. He says that he will be very disturbed unless I ask you to leave.'