f Gaunt, a strong political Lollard, was never a
religious one in his life; while King Richard, who decidedly leaned to
them in religion, disliked their politics exceedingly. In fact, it was
rather the fervent, energetic, practical reformers who took up with such
aims; while those among them who walked quietly with God let the matter
alone. Hugh Calverley had been drawn into these questions rather by
circumstances than choice. While he was emphatically one that "sighed
and that cried for all the abominations that were done in the midst of"
his Israel, he was sagacious enough to know that even from his own point
of view, the abolition of the hierarchy, or the suppression of the
monastic orders, were no more than lopping off branches, while the root
remained.

It was perfectly true that Henry the Fifth seriously contemplated the
policy of disendowment, which Parliament had in vain suggested to his
father. And it continued to be true for some six months longer. The
clue has not yet been discovered to the mysterious and sudden change
which at that date came over, not only the policy, but the whole
character of Henry of Monmouth. Up to that date he had himself been
something very like a political Lollard; ever after it he was fervently
orthodox. The suddenness of the change was not less remarkable than its
completeness. It took place about the first of October, 1413; and it
exactly coincides in date with a visit from Archbishop Arundel, to urge
upon the reluctant King the apprehension of his friend Lord Cobham.
Whatever may have been the means of the alteration, there can be but
little question as to who was the agent.

The King's confirmation of grants to his cousin Constance occurred
before this ominous date; and, revoking the last penalty inflicted, it
restored her son to her custody. Richard therefore came home in July,
where he remained until September. His attendance was then commanded at
Court, and he left Cardiff accordingly.

"Farewell, Madam!" he said brightly, as his mother gave him her farewell
kiss and blessing. "God allowing, I trust to be at home again ere
Christmas; and from London I will seek to bring your Grace and my
sisters some gear of pleasance."

"Farewell, my Dickon!" said Constance, lovingly. "Have a care of
thyself, fair son. Remember, thou art now my dearest treasure."

"No fear, sweet Lady!"

So he sailed off, waving his hand or his cap from the boat, so long as
he could be see