purse containing, also, various letters patent, to Sir Nicholas Bonde, by him. to be kept till the chancellor's arrival.
Three weeks were spent in performing the obsequies of the late king, and in preparing for the coronation of the present. This took place on the 16th of July. On that day Richard rose at an early hour, and attended matins and mass in his private chapel in Westminster. The procession assembled in the great hall, the passage from which to the abbey church had been carpeted with scarlet cloth. The prelates, abbots, and clergy led the way, followed by the officers of state, and last came the king, a canopy of sky-blue silk, supported on spears of silver, being borne above him by the barons of the Cinque Ports. While the litany was chanted the young prince lay prostrate before the altar, whence he was conducted to his throne, raised on a platform in the middle of the nave. When he had taken the customary oath, the archbishop, accompanied by the marshals, explained to the people the obligations of his oath, and inquired whether they were willing to have Richard for their king. The reply was a loud and universal acclamation; whereupon he was anointed, crowned, and invested with all the insignia of royalty. To this followed a solemn mass, and at the offertory he descended and presented on the altar bread, wine, and a mark of gold; after which he returned to his throne and received the homage of his royal uncles, his earls and barons.
Sir John Dymoke attended as champion with his two esquires, and the lord steward, the constable, and marshal rode up and down the hall on their chargers to maintain order.
By all this weight of ceremony the poor youth was completely exhausted, and had to be borne in a litter to his own apartment. This to a speculative mind might have presented an omen, too truly realised, that he would not possess vigour to bear him to the end of his natural term of sovereignty. After he was sufficiently restored, he again returned to the great hall, where he created four earls and nine knights, and then partook of a sumptuous banquet, which was again followed by a ball, minstrelsy, and the usual boisterous festivities of the age.
Everything, in fact, was done which could tend to inspire the boy-king with an idea of that absolute greatness which had been already sufficiently instilled into his mind from very infancy by his mother, his uncles, and his courtiers. For such things kings afterwards pay a suitable compensation. The same ideas, the same accomplishments, the same spirit of despotism were afterwards imprinted on the nascent mind of Charles I., and with the same results. Never before had such base laudation, such creeping prostrations, been practised in this country. Both courtiers and dignitaries of the church used the same language of grovelling sycophancy towards the unsuspecting youth; and little could he dream that, while they were lauding his wisdom and royal virtues, they were preparing for him the execrations of his people and the loss of his throne and life. It has been justly said that for much of what came afterwards to pass these vile flatterers were really answerable. While, therefore, passing judgment on the follies and the crimes of kings, we should never forget that they have been made what they are by the mercenary courtiers who perpetually throng about thrones. At this moment the youthful Richard was the idol of every class in the nation; the beauty of his person and the memory of his father surrounding him with a halo of popular favour, through which the gloom of after years could make no way.
The day after the coronation the prelates and barons met in council to arrange the form of government during the king's minority. They avoided appointing a regency, as is supposed, that they might not have to elect the Duke of Lancaster, the celebrated John of Gaunt, the king's uncle, who had long been suspected of aspiring to the crown. They therefore chose nine councillors, consisting of three bishops, two earls, two baronets, and two knights, to assist the chancellor and the treasurer. Not one of the king's uncles was included, not even the Earl of Cambridge, afterwards made Duke of York, who was indolent and of slight capacity, and therefore not much to be feared; nor the Earl of Buckingham, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, who was bold and turbulent, but much more popular than either of his brothers. Contrary to general expectation, Lancaster appeared to acquiesce in the arrangement without a murmur, and retired with all his attendants to his castle of Kenilworth, as if about to devote himself to the pursuits of private life. But he had taken care to secure the appointment of some of his stanch cavaliers in the council, and, in reality, he and his brothers were the real ruling powers in the state. Amongst the leading members of the council were the Bishops of London, Carlisle, and Salisbury, the Earls of March and Stafford, Sir Richard Devereux, and Sir Hugh Segrave. The Commons had acquired now so much consideration and boldness, that they petitioned the king on this occasion to be admitted to assist the barons in nominating the royal council during the minority; which, though it was not complied with, received a civil answer. They, moreover, represented the necessity of their being summoned every year, as entitled by the law of Edward III., and before they dissolved they appointed two citizens as treasurers to receive and disburse the moneys granted by them to the crown. These treasurers were John Phillpot and William Walworth, citizens of London.
The Commons did not conceal their suspicions of the Duke of Lancaster. They uttered very plain language regarding him, and this language did not fail to rouse his ire. When the Archbishop of Canterbury recommended Richard to the affections of his people, and called on Parliament to assist in advising how the enemies of the realm might best be opposed, the Commons replied that they could not themselves venture to answer so important a question, but begged to have the aid of twelve peers, naming the Duke of Lancaster expressly as "my lord of Spain."
The moment that the king had assented to this he arose, bent his knee to the king, and said, with much anger, that the Commons had no claim to advice from him. They had charged him with nothing short of treason—he, the son of a king, and one of the first lords of the realm; a man of a family not only closely allied to the throne, but noted for its faith and loyalty; that it would be marvellous indeed if he, with more than any other subject in the kingdom to lose, should be found a traitor. He resented the imputation indignantly; called on his accusers to stand forth, and declared that he would meet
