And
what,
it
may
be
asked,
of
John
of
Gaunt
himself?
The
Duke
of Lancaster
remained
a
powerful
figure
—
in
the
nature
of
things
he
could hardly
have
been
anything
else.
His
diplomatic
mission
to
Scotland
had kept
him
out
of
the
way
during
the
Peasants'
Revolt,
and
its
notable
if modest
success
1
had
served
in
some
degree
at
least
to
diminish
his chronic
unpopularity;
the
attacks
on
his
property
during
the
insurrection had
also
gained
him
a
certain
amount
of
sympathy
among
the
people. He
was,
however,
once
again
looking
towards
Spain,
where
the
recent death
of
Don
Enrique
of
Trastamara
-
who
in
1368
had
succeeded John's
father-in-law
Pedro
the
Cruel
on
the
throne
of
Castile
2
-
had revived
all
his
old
hopes
of
claiming
the
crown
for
himself.
Accordingly, when
Parliament
reassembledin
the
spring
of
1382,
he
appeared
before the
Commons
to
seek
a
guarantee
for
a
loan
of
£60,000
to
equip
the necessary
army.
When
this
proposal
was
rejected
he
put
forward
another: that
the
King
himself
should
lead
an
expeditionary
force
to
France
to teach
young
Charles
VI
a
lesson.
Once
such
a
force
was
in
Gascony,
as he
well
knew;
there
would
be
little
difficulty
in
taking
it
across
the frontier
into
Castile.
Again,
Parliament
was
unenthusiastic.
One
more opportunity
arose
the
following
October,
when
the
Bishop
of
Hereford suggested
two
alternative
ways
of
dealing
with
England's
enemies abroad:
either
the
proposed
Spanish
expedition
-
which
could
now
be dignified
with
the
title
of
crusade,
the
new
Castilian
King,
Juan
I, having
given
his
support
to
Clement
VII
as
Pope
-
or
another
crusade
1.
He had succeeded in negotiating a form of truce with
Scotland
, lasting to 2
February 1383.
2.
See pp. 44-5.
against
the
Clementists
in
France
and
Flanders,
to
be
led
by
Henry Despenser,
Bishop
of
Norwich.
For
a
moment
it
looked
as
though
Gaunt
was
to
have
his
way
after all;
unfortunately
for
him,
it
was
at
this
very
moment
that
a
French army
invaded
Flanders,
invested
Ypres
and
Bruges-where
it
impounded all
the
goods
of
the
local
English
merchants
—
and
brought
the
wool trade,
one
of
the
principal
sources
of
royal
revenue,
to
a
virtual
standstill. O
nce
again
a
French
invasion
of
England
seemed
a
strong
possibility. John
of
Gaunt
and
the
Castilian
schismatics
were
forgotten;
all
eyes turned
to
the
Bishop
of
Norwich.
From
the
outset,
Despenser
had determined
that
his
would
be
a
real
crusade,
fighting
under
the
auspices of
the
Church
and
financed
by
contributions
from
the
faithful.
It
was launched
in
an
atmosphere
of
almost
hysterical
enthusiasm:
Pope
Urban had
declared
a
plenary
indulgence
for
everyone
who
contributed,
and it
seemed
that
all
the
ladies
in
the
land
were
flinging
their
gold,
silver and
jewels
into
the
Bishop's
coffers.
Henry
Despenser
was
a
brave
man
and,
having
served
in
Italy
under the
papal
banner,
was
not
without
military
experience;
he
had,
however, never
commanded
an
army
in
the
field
and
was
totally
unfit
for
the task
with
which
he
had
been
entrusted.
Ignoring
a
last-minute
attempt by
the
King
to
recall
him,
he
embarked
at
Sandwich
on
16
May
1383, landed
at
Calais
and
pressed
forward
into
Flanders,
where
he
joined
up with
the
Flemish
forces
early
in
June.
At
this
point
his
most
sensible course
would
have
been
to
march
on
Bruges,
a
relatively
easy
target; instead,
he
decided
to
besiege
Ypres
-
a
project
which,
since
his
army possessed
virtually
no
siege
equipment,
was
doomed
from
the
start. Many
of
his
more
recent
recruits,
untrained
and
interested
only
in plunder,
quickly
tired
of
the
siege
and
deserted;
and
when
at
the beginning
of
August
word
reached
him
that
Philip
of
Burgundy
was on
the
march
with
a
large
army,
he
gave
the
signal
to
retreat.
His crusade
had
achieved
precisely
nothing
except
the
discredit
of
the Church,
in
whose
name
vast
numbers
of
marauding
thugs
had
pillaged and
plundered
their
way
through
a
friendly
country.
No
one
was surprised
when,
that
same
autumn,
Chancellor
de
la
Pole
announced the
impeachment
of
the
Bishop
and
his
captains.
Despenser
was
deprived of
his
temporal
possessions,
though
they
were
returned
to
him
two years
later;
the
captains
—
several
of
whom
had
accepted
bribes
from the
French,
but
who
had
actually
fought
a
courageous
rearguard
action to
cover
his
precipitate
retreat
-
were
sentenced
to
unexpectedly
short terms
of
imprisonment.
All,
perhaps,
were
luckier
than
they
deserved.