And with that Gregory XII was once more Angelo Corrario. Where there had been three popes there now was only one.
*
The French ambassadors came before Henry, in response to his command; they bowed and knelt before him. There too were the archbishop of Canterbury, Chancellor Beaufort and many other lords.12 The king addressed them directly and coldly on the subject of justice: how his kingdom of France had been withheld from him.
As soon as he had finished, Archbishop Boisratier, the count of Vendôme and the seigneur d’Ivry stepped forward and showed Henry the letters of credence that they had been given by the king of France. Henry kindly and courteously asked them to expand on the theme. So the archbishop of Bourges spoke as follows:
To the honour of Jesus Christ, king of kings, I declare here that our serene king – having by your letters the assurance and certainty that you desire peace and an alliance by way of a marriage between you and his illustrious daughter, my lady Katherine, and knowing the fine qualities that distinguish your person – has himself a vital desire to conclude this peace and to establish, by way of kinship and justice, a lasting alliance between you in the interests of both kingdoms. We have been charged, if we find you well disposed to this accommodation, to offer you a further five towns, seven counties and many lordships, which you have been proposed before: the town, the castle and all the lordship of Limoges, including two populous towns, Limoges and Tulle, and by further addition another 50,000 crowns of gold on top of the 800,000 crowns that have been promised for the dowry of Madame Katherine.13
It seemed to the French ambassadors that the king was pleased with this offer. He answered them that he would reflect on it at greater length, and would reply to them on Saturday. With that they were ushered out; the interview was over.
As the ambassadors left the chamber they met Jean Fusoris, who had been waiting there. He did not have permission to enter the rooms where the ambassadors of the two kingdoms met, but he had waited outside the door each day, hoping to meet Richard Courtenay. The bishop had been doing his best to avoid him, but now he came up to him and greeted him in a kindly way. ‘You are most welcome, Master Jean,’ he said. They talked further, and Fusoris asked for the money that Courtenay still owed him. Courtenay told him to come back in the morning.14
Friday 5th
Fusoris went to Wolvesey Castle next morning, accompanied by two esquires. He looked for Bishop Courtenay. The man was nowhere to be found. Fusoris then enquired of Courtenay’s whereabouts from a doctor of theology he encountered – who was probably Edmund Lacy, the dean of the royal chapel at Windsor. Lacy informed him that he was a little late; the privy council was already sitting and Richard Courtenay would be with the king. But they would not be long; would Master Fusoris care to have some wine while he waited? The esquires declined but Fusoris said yes, and spent some time chatting to Lacy. They talked about exchanging students – two from France studying in England and two from England in France – and they agreed that such a scheme depended very much on whether peace could be achieved. Dr Lacy asked about astrology and wondered whether there were many astrologers in Paris. Fusoris responded that there were many amateurs but few professionals, as it was not a science that paid great rewards. At this Lacy took out a sextant he had with him, which was marked with the revolutions of the heavens since the king’s birth. Fusoris refused to touch it, on account of the likelihood of war between their countries; not only were the negotiations going badly, he had seen a herald in Winchester wearing the livery of the duke of Burgundy.15 No doubt he suspected that Henry might agree a treaty with John the Fearless, and the two of them jointly attack France. Lacy did not press the matter but said instead how much he would have liked to spend some time in Paris, maybe a year or two. It might have been possible ‘if only your ambassadors had come sooner,’ he added, with the obvious implication that the advanced state of military preparations meant that peace was no longer a possibility. Then he paused and reflected that perhaps he was being too negative; maybe an English embassy might achieve some significant breakthrough after Henry had actually taken his army across the Channel?
The wine was finished and Fusoris joined his friends waiting in the hall of the castle. A little while later he saw Bishop Courtenay leaving the great chamber and walking down to the chapel to sing Mass. Fusoris followed him into the chapel, and while the bishop prepared the altar for the service Fusoris asked him again for his money. Bishop Courtenay explained that he would have sent it sooner but he could not find a reliable enough messenger to take it to Paris. But he assured the tenacious old Frenchman that he would give him what he owed him, but that he had not a penny with him at that time. He asked whether Fusoris had brought any gifts for the king? Fusoris said he had brought an astrolabe and some copies of tracts that he had discussed with Courtenay in Paris. Hearing this, Courtenay asked him to bring them to him the following morning at Mass, when he would present them to the king. In fact, he and Henry had often talked about Fusoris, he said, and suggested that Fusoris might like to meet the king.16
Some idea of what the king and the council had been discussing can be gained from the patent letters issued as ‘by the king’ from Winchester today. Legal cases were being prepared by royal officers in the court of the exchequer against the duke of York for monies owed by him in respect of his custody of the Channel Islands and the alien priories there: Henry ordered these to be dropped, and pardoned his cousin everything he owed the exchequer. He ordered that two men whom he had pardoned for murder in the first year of his reign, and who had subsequently been detained by royal officers, should be released. And a shipbuilder called William Godey was commissioned to take boards, timber, iron, pitch, tar, carpenters and smiths for making a new ship for the king. Given the advanced stage of proceedings, this must have been a ship for use in a future campaign.17 But why Henry was looking so far ahead at this precise juncture, when he was running short of money and there was no guarantee he would survive this forthcoming expedition, is a mystery. Perhaps it was simply that Godey’s services were now available.
Finally, a commission was sent ‘from the king’ to Sir Gilbert Talbot empowering him to draw up a treaty with Owen Glendower. Just in case the Welshman saw an opportunity to rise for one last time while Henry was out of the country, a process of negotiation should be started, to persuade Glendower that he had more to gain by being loyal to Henry than by fighting a guerrilla war against him.18
*
In Constance, the emperor sent Lord Wenceslas of Dubá, Lord John of Chlum and four bishops to the prison cell in the Franciscan Friary. It fell to Lord John, Hus’s closest friend at Constance, to do the talking.
Look, Master Jan, we are laymen and do not know how to counsel you. Therefore see if you feel that you are guilty in anyway of what you have been charged with. Do not fear to be instructed therein, and to recant. But if you do not feel guilty of those things with which you have been charged, then follow your conscience. Under no circumstances do anything against your conscience, or lie in the sight of God, but rather be steadfast until death in what you know to be the truth.
At this Jan Hus began to weep. But he replied,
Lord John, be sure that if I knew that I had written or preached anything erroneous against the law and against the Holy Catholic Church, I would humbly desire to recant – as God is my witness. I have always desired to be shown better and more relevant scripture than my own teachings and writings.
One of the bishops there could not restrain himself. ‘Do you claim that you are wiser than the whole council?’
Turning to him, Hus responded: ‘I do not claim to be wiser than the whole council; but, I pray, give me one member of the council who would instruct me by better and more relevant scripture, and I am ready instantly to recant!’
‘See how obstinate he is in his heresy!’ declared the bishop triumphantly. And with that exclamation they led Hus back into his cell and locked the door.19
When they had gone
, Hus began to write his last letters.20 He addressed one to his friends in Constance, and another to his friends back home in Bohemia. He gave his last remaining possessions away to those who had stood by him. And then he wrote his very last letter, addressed ‘to the entire Christian world’. In this he tried to give a synopsis of his trial. He repeated the words he had used before: ‘I had supposed that in this council would be greater reverence, piety and discipline’. The letter was never finished. But it did not matter. He would address the entire Christian world the following day.
Saturday 6th
It was John Wycliffe who was dealt with first by the council of Constance. The first forty-five heretical articles to be identified were execrated once more, and then another 260 were likewise dealt with. Any memory or memorial of him was condemned. And then it was time for Hus.
The archbishop of Riga led him into the cathedral. The emperor was there, wearing his crown, and so were a crowd of prelates. In the middle of them all was a table and a pedestal where the vestments and chasuble were arranged for the purpose of unfrocking him. Hus fell to his knees when he saw the table and pedestal, and stayed there a long time, praying silently. As he knelt there the bishop of Lodi went up into the pulpit and preached a sermon about heresy, stressing how heresy does so much harm to the Church, tearing it to pieces, and how it is the duty of kings to eradicate any and all such heresies.
After the sermon, the charges against Hus were read out. He heard, stopped praying and stood up. He tried to reply but he was forced to be silent. ‘I beseech you, for God’s sake!’ implored Hus. But he was forbidden to speak. He fell to his knees and began praying again.
They began the unfrocking ceremony. Seven bishops forced him to his feet and adorned him in the vestments of the priesthood as if he was about to celebrate Mass. They took no notice as he called out ‘My Lord Jesus Christ was mocked in a white garment when he was led from Herod to Pilate!’ They led him up onto the table, and put a chalice in his hand. Standing there, in tears, facing the multitude of priests, he declared, ‘These bishops exhort me to recant and abjure. But I fear to do so, lest I be a liar in the sight of the Lord, and also lest I offend my own conscience and the truth of God.’
Taken down from the table, the bishops began to unfrock him. They took the chalice from him, declaring, ‘O cursed Judas, because you have abandoned the counsel of peace and have counselled with the Jews we take away from you this cup of redemption!’
‘I trust in the Lord God Almighty,’ Hus replied, ‘for whom I patiently bear this vilification. He will not take from me the cup of redemption, but I firmly hope that I will drink from it today, in his kingdom!’
They cursed him with every holy garment they took from him. And when he stood in just his gown and black coat they took a pair of scissors and obliterated his tonsure, removing most of his hair. They placed a paper mitre on his head, which bore the images of two devils and the word, heresiarch, shouting ‘we commit your soul to the Devil!’
‘And I commit it to the most merciful Lord Jesus Christ, who bore a much heavier and harsher crown of thorns!’ replied Hus.
They led him out of the cathedral and delivered him into the hands of the executioners. His books were being burned nearby, the smoke drifting across the city. Crowds had gathered to watch him go, and more now arrived, accompanying him through the streets. The emperor and authorities had foreseen this, and there were more than a thousand guards ready. Hus sang psalms as he was led along, and called out ‘Have mercy on me, oh God!’
So many people were crowding around Hus that, to avoid the masses, the guards had to force them back from the bridge out of the city. Once across, Hus’s executioners led him off the road that led to Gottleiben Castle and around the edge of a meadow beside the road, to the place where the stake was. Two wagon loads of straw and brushwood stood ready. People in the crowd following started shouting that he should have a confessor before he died but a mounted priest, wearing a green suit with a red silk lining, shouted back that he had been excommunicated, and deserved no confessor.
More people were flocking to the place of execution. Soldiers started running towards Hus, lest matters get out of hand. Ulrich Richental, who was an eyewitness, estimated that there were three thousand armed men there. He was standing near as Hus approached the stake; Richental saw him fall to his knees and scream to Christ for mercy. At the place of execution he was offered a confession on the condition that he recant. ‘I am no mortal sinner!’ he yelled, terrified. So they proceeded.
Hus was tied to the stake with ropes, his hands being tied behind his back. He was made to stand on a stool, and a sooty chain fastened around his neck. The executioners took brushwood and straw from the wagons and piled it around him. They scattered a little pitch over it, and lit the fire.
Hus began to sing. ‘Christ thou son of the living God, have mercy on us.’ As he sang the wind caught the flames and the smoke and flames began to rise into his face, and for those who saw him it seemed his lips were moving but they could hear nothing. Soon they heard not singing but the cries and screams of excruciating pain, as the fire burned his gown and his skin. The executioners piled on more straw and brushwood. And so he died.
The paper mitre on Hus’s head did not burn straightaway, according to Richental, so the executioners knocked it off into the flames with a stick. They had orders to ensure that no trace of him remained. No artefact of his had been removed in the cathedral: everything he wore on the day of his death was to be obliterated with him. His purse, his coat, his clothes, his belt – even his knives. And the full extent of this order became clear as the flames died down. The executioners knocked his charred flesh into the fire, and broke the bones with clubs so that they would be burned more thoroughly. As the fire died down they found his skull, dragged it out, and smashed it open with their clubs. The pieces they threw back into the flames.21
The ashes were guarded. When cold enough, they were gathered up and cast into the Rhine. The very determination to remove Hus entirely from physical existence – like the will to eliminate any memory of Wycliffe – shows how seriously the council regarded him. The first great battle of the year 1415 was over; and although Jan Hus had lost his life, the cause for which he fought had a new martyr and was immeasurably stronger. Christendom was never the same again.
*
Fusoris went to Wolvesey Castle next morning with his servant, Jean du Berle, taking the astrolabe and astrological tracts that he had mentioned to Courtenay. The French ambassadors were still with the king when he arrived, and he waited in the hall. Eventually the meeting broke up and the king and all the negotiators, including Courtenay, came down the stairs from the great chamber and went into the chapel. Fusoris followed them, and heard Courtenay celebrate Mass. When it was over, Courtenay signalled to him to approach, and led him to the king’s pew.
‘My lord,’ said Courtenay, ‘this is Master Jean Fusoris, that I spoke of, who, thinking there would be a treaty of peace, has brought with him a composition for your solid sphere, another for an instrument wherein may be seen the motions of the planets, their conjunctions, oppositions and aspects, together with a figure of the heavens at all hours, a small astrolabe and a practical guide on how to use it, and a sextant that he offers to your majesty.’
‘Thank you,’ said the king in Latin, as Fusoris – on one knee – produced the articles and passed them to the bishop one by one. ‘Grans merci,’ he added afterwards.
‘I hope they are pleasing to you, serene prince,’ replied Fusoris, in French.
The king said nothing more but Courtenay told Fusoris he was invited to dine with them.22
This tendency to say very little was Henry’s usual manner. However, today he was particularly disinclined to make small talk with a visiting French astrologer. The negotiations had to be brought to a close. He had recalled the French ambassadors to the palace for the final day of negotiations and had delivered his verdict on their offer made on Thursday. He wanted the ambas
sadors to tell him exactly when he could expect Princess Katherine to be delivered to him with her jewels and 850,000 crowns, and when the towns and lands would be delivered to him. He declared he was happy with these terms on one condition – that the ambassadors agree a truce to last fifty years. Of course he knew well that the ambassadors had no authority to agree this term – so he would send his own ambassadors to Paris to put the proposal to the king of France while the French ambassadors remained here in England. Much lively debate had followed this. Henry Beaufort had insisted the girl be handed over with the money and jewels on St Andrew’s Day (30 November). The French objected, on the grounds that it would be impossible to gather all the money by then. And they maintained they could not agree to the fifty-year truce because they had insufficient authority, and they could not assure the king of the terms on which he was to hold these new lands. He wanted full sovereignty and the French ambassadors would not say exactly on what basis the offer was made.23 At this point they broke to attend Mass and then eat dinner.
After dinner Courtenay came up to Fusoris and shook his hand. The final stage of the embassy now had to take place. Courtenay informed Fusoris that there would be no deal, no peace treaty and no marriage. He expressed his regret, for he believed that had the French envoys come sooner then the whole matter could have been settled. In this way he once more turned reality around to suggest it was all the fault of the French. Fusoris objected that, regarding the marriage, that was the fault of the English, for the usual amount of money had been offered – and more besides. It was Henry’s obstinacy and his excessive demands for the peace that were to blame. Courtenay replied that, no, Henry was a good, wise man. He was chaste and pure – the bishop was sure that he had not slept with a woman since becoming king. But what did Fusoris think of him, now he had met him?
1415: Henry V's Year of Glory Page 32
