CHAPTER XXIII.

[Illustration: 1_298_edward5.jpg EDWARD V.]

EDWARD V. AND RICHARD III.

{1483.} During the latter years of Edward IV., the nation having in

a great measure forgotten the bloody feuds between the two roses, and

peaceably acquiescing in the established government, was agitated only

by some court intrigues, which, being restrained by the authority of the

king, seemed nowise to endanger the public tranquillity. These intrigues

arose from the perpetual rivalship between two parties; one consisting

of the queen and her relations, particularly the earl of Rivers, her

brother, and the marquis of Dorset, her son; the other composed of the

ancient nobility, who envied the sudden growth and unlimited credit of

that aspiring family.[*]

* Sir Thomas More. p. 481.

At the head of this latter party was the duke of Buckingham, a man of

very noble birth, of ample possessions, of great alliances, of shining

parts; who, though he had married the queen’s sister, was too haughty to

act in subserviency to her inclinations, and aimed rather at maintaining

an independent influence and authority. Lord Hastings, the chamberlain,

was another leader of the same party; and as this nobleman had, by his

bravery and activity, as well as by his approved fidelity, acquired the

confidence and favor of his master, he had been able, though with some

difficulty, to support himself against the credit of the queen.

The lords Howard and Stanley maintained a connection with these

two noblemen, and brought a considerable accession of influence and

reputation to their party. All the other barons, who had no particular

dependence on the queen, adhered to the same interest; and the people

in general, from their natural envy against the prevailing power, bore

great favor to the cause of these noblemen.

But Edward knew that, though he himself had been able to overawe those

rival factions, many disorders might arise from their contests during

the minority of his son; and he therefore took care, in his last

illness, to summon together several of the leaders on both sides, and

by composing their ancient quarrels, to provide, as far as possible,

for the future tranquillity of the government. After expressing his

intentions, that his brother, the duke of Glocester, then absent in

the north, should be intrusted with the regency, he recommended to them

peace and unanimity during the tender years of his son; represented to

them the dangers which must attend the continuance of their animosities;

and engaged them to embrace each other with all the appearance of the

most cordial reconciliation. But this temporary or feigned agreement

lasted no longer than the king’s life; he had no sooner expired,

than the jealousies of the parties broke out afresh; and each of them

applied, by separate messages, to the duke of Glocester, and endeavored

to acquire his favor and friendship.

This prince, during his brother’s reign, had endeavored to live on good

terms with both parties; and his high birth, his extensive abilities,

and his great services, had enabled him to support himself without

falling into a dependence on either. But the new situation of affairs,

when the supreme power was devolved upon him, immediately changed

his measures; and he secretly determined to preserve no longer that

neutrality which he had hitherto maintained. His exorbitant ambition,

unrestrained by any principle either of justice or humanity; made him

carry his views to the possession of the crown itself; and as this

object could not be attained without the ruin of the queen and her

family, he fell, without hesitation, into concert with the opposite

party. But being sensible that the most profound dissimulation was

requisite for effecting his criminal purposes, he redoubled his

professions of zeal and attachment to that princess; and he gained such

credit with her as to influence her conduct in a point which, as it was

of the utmost importance, was violently disputed between the opposite

factions.

The young king, at the time of his father’s death, resided in the Castle

of Ludlow, on the borders of Wales; whither he had been sent, that

the influence of his presence might overawe the Welsh, and restore the

tranquillity of that country, which had been disturbed by some late

commotions. His person was committed to the care of his uncle, the earl

of Rivers, the most accomplished nobleman in England, who, having united

an uncommon taste for literature[*] to great abilities in business

and valor in the field was entitled by his talents, still more than by

nearness of blood, to direct the education of the young monarch. The

queen, anxious to preserve that ascendant over her son which she had

long maintained over her husband, wrote to the earl of Rivers, that he

should levy a body of forces, in order to escort the king to London, to

protect him during his coronation, and to keep him from falling into the

hands of their enemies.[**] The opposite faction, sensible that Edward

was now of an age when great advantages could be made of his name and

countenance, and was approaching to the age when he would be legally

entitled to exert in person his authority, foresaw that the tendency of

this measure was to perpetuate their subjection under their rivals;

and they vehemently opposed a resolution which they represented as the

signal for renewing a civil war in the kingdom. Lord Hastings threatened

to depart instantly to his government of Calais:[**] the other nobles

seemed resolute to oppose force by force: and as the duke of Glocester,

on pretence of pacifying the quarrel, had declared against all

appearance of an armed power, which might be dangerous, and was nowise

necessary; the queen, trusting to the sincerity of his friendship,

and overawed by so violent an opposition, recalled her orders to her

brother, and desired him to bring up no greater retinue than should be

necessary to support the state and dignity of the young sovereign.[***]

* This nobleman first introduced the noble art of printing

into England. Caxton was recommended by him to the patronage

of Edward IV. See Catalogue of Royal and Noble Authors.

** Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 564, 565.

*** Sir Thomas More, p. 483.

The duke of Glocester, meanwhile, set out from York, attended by a

numerous train of the northern gentry. When he reached Northampton,

he was joined by the duke of Buckingham, who was also attended by a

splendid retinue; and as he heard that the king was hourly expected on

that road, he resolved to await his arrival, under color of conducting

him thence in person to London. The earl of Rivers, apprehensive that

the place would be too narrow to contain so many attendants, sent his

pupil forward by another road to Stony Stratford; and came himself to

Northampton, in order to apologize for this measure, and to pay his

respects to the duke of Glocester. He was received with the greatest

appearance of cordiality: he passed the evening an an amicable manner

with Glocester and Buckingham: he proceeded on the road with them next

day to join the king: but as he was entering Stony Stratford, he was

arrested by orders from the duke of Glocester:[*] Sir Richard Gray, one

of the queen’s sons, was at the same time put under a guard, together

with Sir Thomas Vaughan, who possessed a considerable office in the

king’s household; and all the prisoners were instantly conducted

to Pomfret. Glocester approached the young prince with the greatest

demonstrations of respect; and endeavored to satisfy him with regard

to the violence committed on his uncle and brother: but Edward, much

attached to these near relations, by whom he had been tenderly

educated, was not such a master of dissimulation as to conceal his

displeasure.[**]

The people, however, were extremely rejoiced at this revolution; and the

duke was received in London with the loudest acclamations: but the queen

no sooner received intelligence of her brother’s imprisonment, than she

foresaw that Glocester’s violence would not stop there, and that her

own ruin, if not that of all her children, was finally determined.

She therefore fled into the sanctuary of Westminster, attended by the

marquis of Dorset; and she carried thither the five princesses, together

with the duke of York.[***]

* Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 564, 565.

** Sir Thomas More.

*** Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 565.

She trusted that the ecclesiastical privileges, which had formerly,

during the total ruin of her husband and family, given her protection

against the fury of the Lancastrian faction, would not now be violated

by her brother-in-law, while her son was on the throne; and she resolved

to await there the return of better fortune. But Glocester, anxious to

have the duke of York in his power, proposed to take him by force

from the sanctuary; and he represented to the privy council both

the indignity put upon the government by the queen’s ill-grounded

apprehensions, and the necessity of the young prince’s appearance at

the ensuing coronation of his brother. It was further urged, that

ecclesiastical privileges were originally intended only to give

protection to unhappy men persecuted for their debts or crimes; and were

entirely useless to a person who, by reason of his tender age, could lie

under the burden of neither, and who, for the same reason, was

utterly incapable of claiming security from any sanctuary. But the two

archbishops, Cardinal Bourchier, the primate, and Rotherhand, archbishop

of York, protesting against the sacrilege of this measure, it was agreed

that they should first endeavor to bring the queen to compliance by

persuasion, before any violence should be employed against her. These

prelates were persons of known integrity and honor; and being themselves

entirely persuaded of the duke’s good intentions, they employed every

argument, accompanied with earnest entreaties, exhortations, and

assurances, to bring her over to the same opinion. She long continued

obstinate, and insisted that the duke of York, by living in the

sanctuary, was not only secure himself, but gave security to the king,

whose life no one would dare to attempt while his successor and avenger

remained in safety. But finding that none supported her in these

sentiments, and that force, in case of refusal, was threatened by the

council, she at last complied, and produced her son to the two prelates.

She was here on a sudden struck with a kind of presage of his future

fate: she tenderly embraced him; she bedewed him with her tears; and

bidding him an eternal adieu, delivered him, with many expressions of

regret and reluctance, into their custody.[*]

The duke of Glocester, being the nearest male of the royal family

capable of exercising the government, seemed entitled, by the customs of

the realm, to the office of protector; and the council, not waiting for

the consent of parliament, made no scruple of investing him with that

high dignity.[**]

* Sir Thomas More, p. 491.

** Hist. Croyl. Cont, p. 566.

The general prejudice entertained by the nobility against the queen and

her kindred, occasioned this precipitation and irregularity; and no

one foresaw any danger to the succession, much less to the lives of the

young princes, from a measure so obvious and so natural. Besides

that the duke had hitherto been able to cover, by the most profound

dissimulation, his fierce and savage nature, the numerous issue of

Edward, together with the two children of Clarence, seemed to be an

eternal obstacle to his ambition; and it appeared equally impracticable

for him to destroy so many persons possessed of a preferable title, and

imprudent to exclude them. But a man who had abandoned all principles of

honor and humanity, was soon carried by his predominant passion beyond

the reach of fear or precaution; and Glocester, having so far succeeded

in his views, no longer hesitated in removing the other obstructions

which lay between him and the throne. The death of the earl of Rivers,

and of the other prisoners detained in Pomfret, was first determined;

and he easily obtained the consent of the duke of Buckingham, as well as

of Lord Hastings, to this violent and sanguinary measure. However easy

it was, in those times, to procure a sentence against the most innocent

person, it appeared still more easy to despatch an enemy without any

trial or form of process; and orders were accordingly issued to Sir

Richard Ratcliffe, a proper instrument in the hands of this tyrant,

to cut off the heads of the prisoners. The protector then assailed the

fidelity of Buckingham by all the arguments capable of swaying a vicious

mind, which knew no motive of action but interest and ambition. He

represented that the execution of persons so nearly related to the king,

whom that prince so openly professed to love, and whose fate he so much

resented, would never pass unpunished; and all the actors in that scene

were bound in prudence to prevent the effects of his future vengeance:

that it would be impossible to keep the queen forever at a distance from

her son, and equally impossible to prevent her from instilling into

his tender mind the thoughts of retaliating, by like executions, the

sanguinary insults committed on her family: that the only method of

obviating these mischiefs was to put the sceptre in the hands of a

man of whose friendship the duke might be assured, and whose years

and experience taught him to pay respect to merit and to the rights of

ancient nobility: and that the same necessity which had carried them so

far in resisting the usurpation of these intruders, must justify them

in attempting further innovations, and in making, by national consent,

a new settlement of the succession. To these reasons he added the offers

of great private advantages to the duke of Buckingham; and he easily

obtained from him a promise of supporting him in all his enterprises.

The duke of Glocester, knowing the importance of gaining Lord Hastings,

sounded at a distance his sentiments, by means of Catesby, a lawyer, who

lived in great intimacy with that nobleman; but found him impregnable

in his allegiance and fidelity to the children of Edward, who had ever

honored him with his friendship.[*] He saw, therefore, that there were

no longer any measures to be kept with him; and he determined to

ruin utterly the man whom he despaired of engaging to concur in

his usurpation. On the very day when Rivers, Gray, and Vaughan were

executed, or rather murdered, at Poinfret by the advice of Hastings,

the protector summoned a council in the Tower; whither that nobleman,

suspecting no design against him, repaired without hesitation.

* Sir Thomas More. p. 493.

The duke of Glocester was capable of committing the most bloody and

treacherous murders with the utmost coolness and indifference. On taking

his place at the council-table, he appeared in the easiest and most

jovial humor imaginable. He seemed to indulge himself in familiar

conversation with the counsellors, before they should enter on business,

and having paid some compliments to Morton, bishop of Ely, on the good

and early strawberries which he raised in his garden at Holborn,

he begged the favor of having a dish of them, which that prelate

immediately despatched a servant to bring to him. The protector then

left the council, as if called away by some other business; but soon

after returning with an angry and inflamed countenance, he asked them,

what punishment those deserved that had plotted against his life,

who was so nearly related to the king, and was intrusted with the

administration of government. Hastings replied, that they merited the

punishment of traitors. “These traitors,” cried the protector, “are the

sorceress, my brother’s wife, and Jane Shore, his mistress, with others

their associates: see to what a condition they have reduced me by their

incantations and witchcraft:” upon which he laid bare his arm, all

shrivelled and decayed. But the counsellors, who knew that this

infirmity had attended him from his birth, looked on each other with

amazement; and, above all, Lord Hastings, who, as he had since Edward’s

death engaged in an intrigue with Jane Shore,[*] [20] was naturally

anxious concerning the issue of these extraordinary proceedings.

* See note T, at the end of the volume.

“Certainly, my lord,” said he, “if they be guilty of these crimes, they

deserve the severest punishment.” “And do you reply to me,” exclaimed

the protector, “with your ifs and your ands? You are the chief abettor

of that witch, Shore: you are yourself a traitor; and I swear by St.

Paul, that I will not dine before your head be brought me,” He struck

the table with his hand: armed men rushed in at the signal: the

counsellors were thrown into the utmost consternation: and one of the

guards, as if by accident or mistake, aimed a blow with a pole-axe

at Lord Stanley, who, aware of the danger, slunk under the table; and

though he saved his life, he received a severe wound in the head, in the

protector’s presence. Hastings was seized, was hurried away, and

instantly beheaded on a timber-log, which lay in the court of the

Tower.[*] Two hours after, a proclamation, well penned, and fairly

written, was read to the citizens of London, enumerating his offenses,

and apologizing to them, from the suddenness of the discovery, for the

sudden execution of that nobleman, who was very popular among them; but

the saying of a merchant was much talked of on the occasion, who

remarked, that the proclamation was certainly drawn by the spirit of

prophecy.[**]

* Hist Croyl. Cont. p. 566.

** Sir Thomas More, p. 496.

Lord Stanley, the archbishop of York, the bishop of Ely, and other

counsellors, were committed prisoners in different chambers of the

Tower; and the protector, in order to carry on the farce of his

accusations, ordered the goods of Jane Shore to be seized; and he

summoned her to answer before the council for sorcery and witchcraft.

But as no proofs, which could be received even in that ignorant age,

were produced against her, he directed her to be tried in the spiritual

court for her adulteries and lewdness; and she did penance in a white

sheet in St. Paul’s, before the whole people. This lady was born

of reputable parents in London, was well educated, and married to a

substantial citizen; but unhappily views of interest, more than the

maid’s inclinations, had been consulted in the match, and her mind,

though framed for virtue, had proved unable to resist the allurements

of Edward, who solicited her favors. But while seduced from her duty by

this gay and amorous monarch, she still made herself respectable by

her other virtues; and the ascendant which her charms and vivacity

long maintained over him, was all employed in acts of beneficence

and humanity. She was still forward to oppose calumny, to protect the

oppressed, to relieve the indigent; and her good offices, the genuine

dictates of her heart, never waited the solicitation of presents, or

the hopes of reciprocal services. But she lived not only to feel the

bitterness of shame imposed on her by this tyrant, but to experience,

in old age and poverty, the ingratitude of those courtiers who had long

solicited her friendship, and been protected by her credit. No one,

among the great multitudes whom she had obliged, had the humanity to

bring her consolation or relief; she languished out her life in solitude

and indigence; and amidst a court inured to the most atrocious crimes,

the frail ties of this woman justified all violations of friendship

towards her, and all neglect of former obligations.

These acts of violence, exercised against all the nearest connections

of the late king, prognosticated the severest fate to his defenceless

children; and after the murder of Hastings, the protector no longer made

a secret of his intentions to usurp the crown. The licentious life

of Edward, who was not restrained in his pleasures either by honor or

prudence, afforded a pretence for declaring his marriage with the queen

invalid, and all his posterity illegitimate. It was asserted that,

before espousing the lady Elizabeth Gray, he had paid court to the lady

Eleanor Talbot, daughter of the earl of Shrewsbury; and being repulsed

by the virtue of that lady, he was obliged, ere he could gratify his

desires, to consent to a private marriage, without any witnesses, by

Stillington, bishop of Bath, who afterwards divulged the secret.[*]

* Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 567. Comines. Sir Thomas More, p.

482.

It was also maintained that the act of attainder passed against the duke

of Clarence, had virtually incapacitated his children from succeeding

to the crown; and these two families being set aside, the protector

remained the only true and legitimate heir of the house of York. But

as it would be difficult, if not impossible, to prove the preceding

marriage of the late king, and as the rule which excludes the heirs of

an attainted blood from private successions was never extended to the

crown, the protector resolved to make use of another plea, still more

shameful and scandalous. His partisans were taught to maintain, that

both Edward IV. and the duke of Clarence were illegitimate; that the

duchess of York had received different lovers into her bed, who were the

fathers of these children, that, their resemblance to those gallants

was a sufficient proof of their spurious birth; and that the duke

of Glocester alone, of all her sons, appeared by his features and

countenance to be the true offspring of the duke of York. Nothing can

be imagined more impudent than this assertion, which threw so foul an

imputation on his own mother, a princess of irreproachable virtue,

and then alive; yet the place chosen for first promulgating it was the

pulpit, before a large congregation, and in the protector’s presence.

Dr. Shaw was appointed to preach in St. Paul’s; and having chosen this

passage for his text “Bastards lips shall not thrive,” he enlarged on

all the topics which could discredit the birth of Edward IV., the duke

of Clarence, and of all their children. He then broke out in a panegyric

on the duke of Glocester; and exclaimed, “Behold this excellent prince,

the express image of his noble father, the genuine descendant of the

house of York; bearing no less in the virtues of his mind than in the

features of his countenance the character of the gallant Richard, once

your hero and favorite: he alone is entitled to your allegiance: he must

deliver you from the dominion of all intruders: he alone can restore the

lost glory and honor of the nation.” It was previously concerted, that

as the doctor should pronounce these words, the duke of Glocester should

enter the church; and it was expected that the audience would cry out,

“God save King Richard;” which would immediately have been laid hold of

as a popular consent, and interpreted to be the voice of the nation;

but by a ridiculous mistake, worthy of the whole scene, the duke did not

appear till after this exclamation was already recited by the preacher.

The doctor was therefore obliged to repeat his rhetorical figure out

of its proper place: the audience, less from the absurd conduct of

the discourse than from their detestation of these proceedings, kept

a profound silence: and the protector and his preacher were equally

abashed at the ill success of their stratagem.

But the duke was too far advanced to recede from his criminal and

ambitious purpose. A new expedient was tried to work on the people.

The mayor, who was brother to Dr. Shaw, and entirely in the protector’s

interests, called an assembly of the citizens; where the duke of

Buckingham, who possessed some talents for eloquence, harangued them on

the protector’s title to the crown, and displayed those numerous virtues

of which he pretended that prince was possessed. He next asked them

whether they would have the duke for king; and then stopped, in

expectation of hearing the cry, “God save King Richard.” He was

surprised to observe them silent; and turning about to the mayor, asked

him the reason. The mayor replied, that perhaps they did not understand

him. Buckingham then repeated his discourse with some variation.

enforced the same topics, asked the same question, and was received with

the same silence. “I now see the cause,” said the mayor; “the citizens

are not accustomed to be harangued by any but their recorder; and know

not how to answer a person of your grace’s quality.” The recorder,

Fitz-Williams, was then commanded to repeat the substance of the duke’s

speech; but the man, who was averse to the office, took care, throughout

his whole discourse, to have it understood that he spoke nothing of

himself, and that he only conveyed to them the sense of the duke

of Buckingham. Still the audience kept a profound silence. “This is

wonderful obstinacy,” cried the duke: “express your meaning, my friends,

one way or other: when we apply to you on this occasion, it is merely

from the regard which we bear to you. The lords and commons have

sufficient authority, without your consent, to appoint a king: but I

require you here to declare, in plain terms, whether or not you will

have the duke of Glocester for your sovereign.” After all these

efforts, some of the meanest apprentices, incited by the protector’s and

Buckingham’s servants, raised a feeble cry, “God save King Richard:” [*]

the sentiments of the nation were now sufficiently declared: the voice

of the people was the voice of God: and Buckingham, with the mayor,

hastened to Baynard’s Castle, where the protector then resided, that

they might make him a tender of the crown.

* Sir Thomas More, p. 496.

When Richard was told that a great multitude was in the court, he

refused to appear to them, and pretended to be apprehensive for his

personal safety; a circumstance taken notice of by Buckingham, who

observed to the citizens that the prince was ignorant of the whole

design. At last he was persuaded to step forth, but he still kept

at some distance; and he asked the meaning of their intrusion and

importunity. Buckingham told him that the nation was resolved to have

him for king: the protector declared his purpose of maintaining his

loyalty to the present sovereign, and exhorted them to adhere to the

same resolution. He was told that the people had determined to have

another prince; and if he rejected their unanimous voice, they must look

out for one who would be more compliant. This argument was too powerful

to be resisted: he was prevailed on to accept of the crown: and he

thenceforth acted as legitimate and rightful sovereign.

This ridiculous force was soon after followed by a scene truly tragical;

the murder of the two young princes. Richard gave orders to Sir Robert

Brakenbury, constable of the Tower, to put his nephews to death; but

this gentleman, who had sentiments of honor, refused to have any hand

in the infamous office. The tyrant then sent for Sir James Tyrrel,

who promised obedience: and he ordered Brakenbury to resign to this

gentleman the keys and government of the Tower for one night. Tyrre,

choosing three associates, Slater, Dighton, and Forest, came in the

night-time to the door of the chamber where the princes were lodged; and

sending in the assassins he bade them execute their commission, while he

himself staid without. They found the young princes in bed, and fallen

into a profound sleep. After suffocating them with the bolster and

pillows, they showed their naked bodies to Tyrrel, who ordered them to

be buried at the foot of the stairs, deep in the ground, under a heap of

stones.[*] These circumstances were all confessed by the actors in the

following reign; and they were never punished for the crime; probably

because Henry, whose maxims of government were extremely arbitrary,

desired to establish it as a principle, that the commands of the

reigning sovereign ought to justify every enormity in those who paid

obedience to them. But there is one circumstance not so easy to be

accounted for: it is pretended that Richard, displeased with the

indecent manner of burying his nephews, whom he had murdered, gave his

chaplain orders to dig up the bodies, and to inter them in consecrated

ground; and as the man died soon after, the place of their burial

remained unknown, and the bodies could never be found by any search

which Henry could make for them. Yet in the reign of Charles II., when

there was occasion to remove some stones and to dig in the very spot

which was mentioned as the place of their first interment, the bones of

two persons were there found, which by their size exactly corresponded

to the age of Edward and his brother: they were concluded with certainty

to be the remains of those princes, and were interred under a marble

monument by orders of King Charles.[**] Perhaps Richard’s chaplain had

died before he found an opportunity of executing his master’s commands;

and the bodies being supposed to be already removed, a diligent search

was not made for them by Henry in the place where they had been buried.

* Sir Thomas More, p. 501.

** Kennet, p. 551.

CHAPTER XXIII.

[Illustration: 1_301_richard3.jpg RICHARD III.]

RICHARD III.

{1483.} The first acts of Richard’s administration were to bestow

rewards on those who had assisted him in usurping the crown, and to gain

by favors those who, he thought, were best able to support his future

government. Thomas Lord Howard was created duke of Norfolk; Sir Thomas

Howard, his son, earl of Surrey; Lord Lovel, a viscount by the same

name; even Lord Stanley was set at liberty, and made steward of the

household. This nobleman had become obnoxious by his first opposition

to Richard’s views, and also by his marrying the countess dowager of

Richmond, heir of the Somerset family; but sensible of the necessity of

submitting to the present government, he feigned such zeal for Richard’s

service, that he was received into favor, and even found means to be

intrusted with the most important commands by that politic and jealous

tyrant.

But the person who, both from the greatness of his services and the

power and splendor of his family, was best entitled to favors under

the new government, was the duke of Buckingham; and Richard seemed

determined to spare no pains or bounty in securing him to his interests.

Buckingham was descended from a daughter of Thomas of Woodstock, duke

of Glocester, uncle to Richard II.; and by this pedigree he not only

was allied to the royal family, but had claims for dignities as well as

estates of a very extensive nature. The duke of Glocester, and Henry,

earl of Derby, afterwards Henry IV. had married the two daughters and

coheirs of Bohun, earl of Hereford, one of the greatest of the ancient

barons, whose immense property came thus to be divided into two shares.

One was inherited by the family of Buckingham; the other was united to

the crown by the house of Lancaster, and, after the attainder of that

royal line, was seized, as legally devolved to them, by the sovereigns

of the house of York. The duke of Buckingham laid hold of the present

opportunity, and claimed the restitution of that portion of the Hereford

estate which had escheated to the crown, as well as of the great office

of constable, which had long continued by inheritance in his ancestors

of that family. Richard readily complied with these demands, which

were probably the price stipulated to Buckingham for his assistance in

promoting the usurpation. That nobleman was invested with the office of

constable; he received a grant of the estate of Hereford;[*] many other

dignities and honors were conferred upon him; and the king thought

himself sure of preserving the fidelity of a man whose interests seemed

so closely connected with those of the present government.

* Dugdale’s Baron. vol. i. p. 168, 169.

But it was impossible that friendship could long remain inviolate

between two men of such corrupt minds as Richard and the duke of

Buckingham. Historians ascribe their first rupture to the king’s refusal

of making restitution of the Hereford estate; but it is certain from

records, that he passed a grant for that purpose, and that the full

demands of Buckingham were satisfied in this particular. Perhaps Richard

was soon sensible of the danger which might ensue from conferring

such an immense property on a man of so turbulent a disposition, and

afterwards raised difficulties about the execution of his own grant:

perhaps he refused some other demands of Buckingham, whom he found

it impossible to gratify for his past services: perhaps he resolved,

according to the usual maxim of politicians, to seize the first

opportunity of ruining this powerful subject, who had been the principal

instrument of his own elevation; and the discovery of this intention

begat the first discontent in the duke of Buckingham. However this may

be, it is certain that the duke, soon after Richard’s accession, began

to form a conspiracy against the government, and attempted to overthrow

that usurpation which he himself had so zealously contributed to

establish.

Never was there in any country a usurpation more flagrant than that

of Richard, or more repugnant to every principle of justice and public

interest. His claim was entirely founded on impudent allegations, never

attempted to be proved; some of them incapable of proof, and all of

their implying scandalous reflections on his own family, and on the

persons with whom he was the most nearly connected. His title was never

acknowledged by any national assembly, scarcely even by the lowest

populace to whom he appealed; and it had become prevalent merely for

want of some person of distinction, who might stand forth against him,

and give a voice to those sentiments of general detestation which arose

in every bosom. Were men disposed to pardon these violations of public

right, the sense of private and domestic duty, which is not to be

effaced in the most barbarous times, must have, begotten an abhorrence

against him; and have represented the murder of the young and innocent

princes, his nephews, with whose protection he had been intrusted,

in the most odious colors imaginable. To endure such a bloody usurper

seemed to draw disgrace upon the nation, and to be attended with

immediate danger to every individual who was distinguished by birth,

merit, or services. Such was become the general voice of the people;

all parties were united in the same sentiments; and the Lancastrians, so

long oppressed, and of late so much discredited, felt their blasted

hopes again revive, and anxiously expected the consequences of these

extraordinary events. The duke of Buckingham, whose family had been

devoted to that interest, and who, by his mother, a daughter of Edmund,

duke of Somerset, was allied to the house of Lancaster, was easily

induced to espouse the cause of this party, and to endeavor the

restoring of it to its ancient superiority. Morton, bishop of Ely, a

zealous Lancastrian, whom the king had imprisoned, and had afterwards

committed to the custody of Buckingham, encouraged these sentiments;

and by his exhortations the duke cast his eye towards the young earl of

Richmond, as the only person who could free the nation from the tyranny

of the present usurper.[*]

* Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 568.

Henry, earl of Richmond, was at this time detained in a kind of

honorable custody by the duke of Brittany; and his descent, which seemed

to give him some pretensions to the crown, had been a great object of

jealousy both in the late and in the present reign. John, the first duke

of Somerset who was grandson of John of Gaunt, by a spurious branch but

legitimated by act of parliament, had left only one daughter, Margaret;

and his younger brother, Edmund, had succeeded him in his titles, and in

a considerable part of his fortune. Margaret had espoused Edmund, earl

of Richmond, half brother of Henry VI., and son of Sir Owen Tudor and

Catharine of France, relict of Henry V., and she bore him only one

son, who received the name of Henry, and who, after his father’s death,

inherited the honors and fortune of Richmond. His mother, being a widow,

had espoused in second marriage Sir Henry Stafford, uncle to Buckingham,

and after the death of that gentleman, had married Lord Stanley; but had

no children by either of these husbands; and her son Henry was thus, in

the event of her death, the sole heir of all her fortunes. But this was

not the most considerable advantage which he had reason to expect from

her succession: he would represent the elder branch of the house of

Somerset; he would inherit all the title of that family to the crown;

and though its claim, while any legitimate branch subsisted of the house

of Lancaster, had always been much disregarded, the zeal of faction,

after the death of Henry VI., and the murder of Prince Edward,

immediately conferred a weight and consideration upon it.

Edward IV., finding that all the Lancastrians had turned their attention

towards the young earl of Richmond as the object of their hopes, thought

him also worthy of his attention; and pursued him into his retreat in

Brittany, whither his uncle, the earl of Pembroke, had carried him,

after the battle of Tewkesbury, so fatal to his party. He applied to

Francis II., duke of Brittany, who was his ally; a weak, but a good

prince; and urged him to deliver up this fugitive, who might be the

source of future disturbances in England; but the duke, averse to so

dishonorable a proposal, would only consent that, for the security

of Edward, the young nobleman should be detained in custody; and he

received an annual pension from England for the safe keeping or the

subsistence of his prisoner. But towards the end of Edward’s reign, when

the kingdom was menaced with a war both from France and Scotland, the

anxieties of the English court with regard to Henry were much increased;

and Edward made a new proposal to the duke, which covered, under the

fairest appearances, the most bloody and treacherous intentions. He

pretended that he was desirous of gaining his enemy, and of uniting

him to his own family by a marriage with his daughter Elizabeth; and he

solicited to have him sent over to England, in order to execute a scheme

which would redound so much to his advantage. These pretences, seconded,

as is supposed, by bribes to Peter Landais, a corrupt minister, by

whom the duke was entirely governed, gained credit with the court of

Brittany: Henry was delivered into the hands of the English agents,

he was ready to embark; when a suspicion of Edward’s real design was

suggested to the duke, who recalled his orders, and thus saved the

unhappy youth from the imminent danger which hung over him.

These symptoms of continued jealousy in the reigning family of England,

both seemed to give some authority to Henry’s pretensions, and made him

the object of general favor and compassion, on account of the dangers

and persecutions to which he was exposed. The universal detestation of

Richard’s conduct turned still more the attention of the nation towards

Henry; and as all the descendants of the house of York were either women

or minors, he seemed to be the only person from whom the nation

could expect the expulsion of the odious and bloody tyrant. But

notwithstanding these circumstances, which were so favorable to him,

Buckingham and the bishop of Ely well knew that there would still be

many obstacles in his way to the throne; and that, though the nation had

been much divided between Henry VI. and the duke of York, while present

possession and hereditary right stood in opposition to each other,

yet as soon as these titles were united in Edward IV., the bulk of the

people had come over to the reigning family; and the Lancastrians had

extremely decayed, both in numbers and in authority. It was therefore

suggested by Morton, and readily assented to by the duke, that the only

means of overturning the present usurpation, was to unite the opposite

factions, by contracting a marriage between the earl of Richmond and the

princess Elizabeth, eldest daughter of King Edward, and thereby blending

together the opposite pretensions of their families, which had so long

been the source of public disorders and convulsions. They were sensible,

that the people were extremely desirous of repose after so many bloody

and destructive commotions; that both Yorkists and Lancastrians, who now

lay equally under oppression, would embrace this scheme with ardor; and

that the prospect of reconciling the two parties, which was in itself

so desirable an end, would, when added to the general hatred against

the present government, render their cause absolutely invincible. In

consequence of these views, the prelate, by means of Reginald Bray,

steward to the countess of Rich-* *mond, first opened the project of

such a union to that lady; and the plan appeared so advantageous for her

son, and at the same time so likely to succeed, that it admitted not of

the least hesitation. Dr. Lewis, a Welsh physician, who had access to

the queen dowager in her sanctuary, carried the proposals to her, and

found that revenge for the murder of her brother and of her three sons,

apprehensions for her surviving family, and indignation against her

confinement, easily overcame all her prejudices against the house of

Lancaster, and procured her approbation of a marriage, to which the age

and birth, as well as the present situation of the parties, seemed so

naturally to invite them. She secretly borrowed a sum of money in

the city, sent it over to the earl of Richmond, required his oath to

celebrate the marriage as soon as he should arrive in England, advised

him to levy as many foreign forces as possible, and promised to join

him on his first appearance, with all the friends and partisans of her

family.

The plan being thus laid upon the solid foundations of good sense and

sound policy, it was secretly communicated to the principal persons of

both parties in all the counties of England; and a wonderful alacrity

appeared in every order of men to forward its success and completion.

But it was impossible that so extensive a conspiracy could be conducted

in so secret a manner, as entirely to escape the jealous and vigilant

eye of Richard; and he soon received intelligence, that his enemies,

headed by the duke of Buckingham, were forming some design against

his authority. He immediately put himself in a posture of defence,

by levying troops in the north; and he summoned the duke to appear at

court, in such terms as seemed to promise him a renewal of their

former amity. But that nobleman, well acquainted with the barbarity and

treachery of Richard, replied only by taking arms in Wales, and giving

the signal to his accomplices for a general insurrection in all parts of

England. But at that very time there happened to fall such heavy rains,

so incessant and continued, as exceeded any known in the memory of man;

and the Severn, with the other rivers in that neighborhood, swelled to

a height which rendered them impassable, and prevented Buckingham from

marching into the heart of England to join his associates. The Welshmen,

partly moved by superstition at this extraordinary event, partly

distressed by famine in their camp, fell off from him; and Buckingham,

finding himself deserted by his followers, put on a disguise, and took

shelter in the house of Banister, an old servant of his family. But

being detected in his retreat, he was brought to the king at Salisbury;

and was instantly executed, according to the summary method practised

in that age.[*] The other conspirators, who took arms in four different

places, at Exeter, at Salisbury, it Newbury, and at Maidstone, hearing

of the duke of Buckingham’s misfortunes, despaired of success, and

immediately dispersed themselves.

The marquis of Dorset and the bishop of Ely made their escape beyond

sea; many others were equally fortunate; several fell into Richard’s

hands, of whom he made some examples. His executions seem not to have

been remarkably severe; though we are told of one gentleman, William

Colingbourne, who suffered under color of this rebellion, but in reality

for a distich of quibbling verses which he had composed against Richard

and his ministers.[*]

* Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 568.

The lines were--

“The Rat, the Cat, and Lovel that Dog,

Rule all England under the Hog;”

The earl of Richmond, in concert with his friends, had set sail from St.

Malo’s, carrying on board a body of five thousand men, levied in foreign

parts; but his fleet being at first driven back by a storm, he appeared

not on the coast of England till after the dispersion of all his

friends; and he found himself obliged to return to the court of

Brittany.

{1484.} The king, every where triumphant, and fortified by this

unsuccessful attempt to dethrone him, ventured at last to summon a

parliament; a measure which his crimes and flagrant usurpation had

induced him hitherto to decline. Though it was natural that the

parliament, in a contest of national parties, should always adhere to

the victor, he seems to have apprehended, lest his title, founded on

no principle, and supported by no party, might be rejected by that

assembly. But his enemies being now at his feet, the parliament had no

choice left but to recognize his authority, and acknowledge his right

to the crown. His only son, Edward, then a youth of twelve years of age,

was created prince of Wales: the duties of tonnage and poundage were

granted to the king for life; and Richard, in order to reconcile the

nation to his government, passed some popular laws, particularly one

alluding to the names of Ratcliffe and Catesby; and to Richard’s arms,

which were a boar, against the late practice of extorting money on

pretence of benevolence.

All the other measures of the king tended to the same object. Sensible

that the only circumstance which could give him security, was to gain

the confidence of the Yorkists, he paid court to the queen dowager with

such art and address, made such earnest protestations of his sincere

good-will and friendship, that this princess, tired of confinement, and

despairing of any success from her former projects, ventured to leave

her sanctuary, and to put herself and her daughters into the hands of

the tyrant. But he soon carried further his views for the establishment

of his throne. He had married Anne, the second daughter of the earl of

Warwick, and widow of Edward, prince of Wales, whom Richard himself had

murdered; but this princess having born him but one son, who died about

this time, he considered her as an invincible obstacle to the settlement

of his fortune, and he was believed to have carried her off by poison;

a crime for which the public could not be supposed to have any solid

proof, but which the usual tenor of his conduct made it reasonable to

suspect. He now thought it in his power to remove the chief perils which

threatened his government. The earl of Richmond, he knew, could never be

formidable but from his projected marriage with the princess Elizabeth,

the true heir of the crown; and he therefore intended, by means of a

papal dispensation, to espouse, himself, this princess, and thus to

unite in his own family their contending titles. The queen dowager,

eager to recover her lost authority, neither scrupled this alliance,

which was very unusual in England, and was regarded as incestuous, nor

felt any horror at marrying her daughter to the murderer of her three

sons and of her brother: she even joined so farther interests with those

of the usurper, that she wrote to all her partisans, and among the rest

to her son, the marquis of Dorset, desiring them to withdraw from

the earl of Richmond; an injury which the earl could never afterwards

forgive: the court of Rome was applied to for a dispensation: Richard

thought that he could easily defend himself during the interval, till

it arrived; and he had afterwards the agreeable prospect of a full and

secure settlement. He flattered himself that the English nation, seeing

all danger removed of a disputed succession, would then acquiesce under

the dominion of a prince who was of mature years, of great abilities,

and of a genius qualified for government; and that they would forgive

him all the crimes which he had committed in paving his way to the

throne.

But the crimes of Richard were so horrid and so shocking to humanity,

that the natural sentiments of men, without any political or public

views, were sufficient to render his government unstable; and every

person of probity and honor was earnest to prevent the sceptre from

being any longer polluted by that bloody and faithless hand which held

it. All the exiles flocked to the earl of Richmond in Brittany, and

exhorted him to hasten his attempt for a new invasion, and to prevent

the marriage of the princess Elizabeth, which must prove fatal to all

his hopes. The earl, sensible of the urgent necessity, but dreading

the treachery of Peter Landais, who had entered into a negotiation with

Richard for betraying him, was obliged to attend only to his present

safety; and he made his escape to the court of France. The ministers of

Charles VIII., who had now succeeded to the throne after the death

of his father, Lewis, gave him countenance and protection; and being

desirous of raising disturbance to Richard, they secretly encouraged the

earl in the levies which he made for the support of his enterprise upon

England. The earl of Oxford, whom Richard’s suspicions had thrown into

confinement, having made his escape, here joined Henry; and inflamed his

ardor for the attempt, by a favorable account which he brought of

the dispositions of the English nation, and their universal hatred of

Richard’s crimes and usurpation.

{1485.} The earl of Richmond set sail from Harfleur, in Normandy, with

a small army of about two thousand men; and after a navigation of six

days, he arrived at Milford Haven, in Wales, where he landed without

opposition. He directed his course to that part of the kingdom, in hopes

that the Welsh, who regarded him as their countryman, and who had been

already prepossessed in favor of his cause by means of the duke of

Buckingham, would join his standard, and enable him to make head against

the established government. Richard, who knew not in what quarter he

might expect the invader, had taken post at Nottingham, in the centre

of the kingdom; and having given commissions to different persons in the

several counties, whom he empowered to oppose his enemy, he purposed in

person to fly, on the first alarm, to the place exposed to danger. Sir

Rice ap Thomas and Sir Walter Herbert were intrusted with his authority

in Wales; but the former immediately deserted to Henry; the second

made but feeble opposition to him; and the earl, advancing towards

Shrewsbury, received every day some reënforcement from his partisans.

Sir Gilbert Talbot joined him with all the vassals and retainers of the

family of Shrewsbury: Sir Thomas Bourchier and Sir Walter Hungerford

brought their friends to share his fortunes; and the appearance of

men of distinction in his camp made already his cause wear a favorable

aspect.

But the danger to which Richard was chiefly exposed, proceeded not so

much from the zeal of his open enemies, as from the infidelity of his

pretended friends. Scarce any nobleman of distinction was sincerely

attached to his cause, except the duke of Norfolk; and all those who

feigned the most loyalty were only watching for an opportunity to betray

and desert him. But the persons of whom he entertained the greatest

suspicion, were Lord Stanley and his brother Sir William, whose

connections with the family of Richmond, notwithstanding their

professions of attachment to his person, were never entirely forgotten

or overlooked by him. When he empowered Lord Stanley to levy forces,

he still retained his eldest son, Lord Strange, as a pledge for his

fidelity; and that nobleman was, on this account, obliged to employ

great caution and reserve in his proceedings. He raised a powerful body

of his friends and retainers in Cheshire and Lancashire, but without

openly declaring himself: and though Henry had received secret

assurances of his friendly intentions, the armies on both sides knew

not what to infer from his equivocal behavior. The two rivals at last

approached each other, at Bosworth near Leicester; Henry at the head of

six thousand men, Richard with an army of above double the number; and

a decisive action was every hour expected between them. Stanley,

who commanded above seven thousand men, took care to post himself

at Atherstone, not far from the hostile camps; and he made such a

disposition as enabled him on occasion to join either party. Richard had

too much sagacity not to discover his intentions from these movements;

but he kept the secret from his own men for fear of discouraging them:

he took not immediate revenge on Stanley’s son, as some of his courtiers

advised him; because he hoped that so valuable a pledge would induce the

father to prolong still further his ambiguous conduct: and he hastened

to decide by arms the quarrel with his competitor; being certain that

a victory over the earl of Richmond would enable him to take simple

revenge on all his enemies, open and concealed.

The van of Richmond’s army, consisting of archers, was commanded by the

earl of Oxford: Sir Gilbert Talbot led the right wing; Sir John Savage

the left: the earl himself, accompanied by his uncle the earl of

Pembroke, placed himself in the main body. Richard also took post in his

main body, and intrusted the command of his van to the duke of Norfolk:

as his wings were never engaged, we have not learned the names of the

several commanders. Soon after the battle began, Lord Stanley, whose

conduct in this whole affair discovers great precaution and abilities,

appeared in the field, and declared for the earl of Richmond. This

measure, which was unexpected to the men, though not to their leaders,

had a proportional effect on both armies: it inspired unusual courage

into Henry’s soldiers; it threw Richard’s into dismay and confusion.

The intrepid tyrant, sensible of his desperate situation, cast his eye

around the field, and descrying his rival at no great distance, he drove

against him with fury, in hopes that either Henry’s death or his own

would decide the victory between them. He killed with his own hands Sir

William Brandon, standard-bearer to the earl: he dismounted Sir John

Cheyney: he was now within reach of Richmond himself, who declined

not the combat, when Sir William Stanley, breaking in with his troops,

surrounded Richard, who, fighting bravely to the last moment, was

overwhelmed by numbers, and perished by a fate too mild and honorable

for his multiplied and detestable enormities. His men every where sought

for safety by flight.

There fell in this battle about four thousand of the vanquished; and

among these the duke of Norfolk, Lord Ferrars of Chartley, Sir Richard

Ratcliffe, Sir Robert Piercy, and Sir Robert Brackenbury. The loss was

inconsiderable on the side of the victors. Sir William Catesby, a great

instrument of Richard’s crimes, was taken, and soon after beheaded, with

some others, at Leicester. The body of Richard was found in the field,

covered with dead enemies, and all besmeared with blood: it was thrown

carelessly across a horse; was carried to Leicester amidst the shouts of

the insulting spectators; and was interred in the Gray Friars’ church of

that place.

The historians who favor Richard (for even this tyrant has met with

partisans among the later writers) maintain, that he was well qualified

for government, had he legally obtained it; and that he committed no

crimes but such as were necessary to procure him possession of the

crown: but this is a poor apology, when it is confessed, that he was

ready to commit the most horrid crimes which appeared necessary for that

purpose; and it is certain, that all his courage and capacity, qualities

in which he really seems not to have been deficient, would never have

made compensation to the people for the danger of the precedent, and for

the contagious example of vice and murder exalted upon the throne. This

prince was of a small stature, humpbacked, and had a harsh, disagreeable

countenance; so that his body was in every particular no less deformed

than his mind.

*****

Thus have we pursued the history of England through a series of many

barbarous ages, till we have at last reached the dawn of civility

and science, and have the prospect, both of greater certainty in our

historical narrations, and of being able to present to the reader a

spectacle more worthy of his attention. The want of certainty, however,

and of circumstances, is not unlike to be complained of throughout

every period of this long narration. This island possesses many ancient

historians of good credit, as well as many historical monuments; and

it is rare, that the annals of so uncultivated a people as were the

English, as well as the other European nations after the decline of

Roman learning, have been transmitted to posterity so complete, and

with so little mixture of falsehood and of fable. This advantage we

owe entirely to the clergy of the church of Rome; who, founding their

authority on their superior knowledge, preserved the precious literature

of antiquity from a total extinction;[*] [21] and, under shelter of

their numerous privileges and immunities, acquired a security by means

of the superstition, which they would in vain have claimed from the

justice and humanity of those turbulent and licentious ages.

* See note U, at the end of the volume

Nor is the spectacle altogether unentertaining and uninstructive, which

the history of those times presents to us. The view of human manners, in

all their variety of appearances, is both profitable and agreeable; and

if the aspect in some periods seem horrid and deformed, we may thence

learn to cherish with the greater anxiety that science and civility,

which has so close a connection with virtue and humanity, and which,

as it is a sovereign antidote against superstition, is also the most

effectual remedy against vice and disorders of every kind.

The rise, progress, perfection, and decline of art and science, are

curious objects of contemplation, and intimately connected with a

narration of civil transactions. The events of no particular period can

be fully accounted for, but by considering the degrees of advancement

which men have reached in those particulars.

Those who cast their eye on the general revolutions of society, will

find that, as almost all improvements of the human mind had reached

nearly to their state of perfection about the age of Augustus, there

was a sensible decline from that point or period; and men thenceforth

relapsed gradually into ignorance and barbarism. The unlimited extent

of the Roman empire, and the consequent despotism of its monarchs,

extinguished all emulation, debased the generous spirits of men,

and depressed that noble flame by which all the refined arts must be

cherished and enlivened. The military government, which soon succeeded,

rendered even the lives and properties of men insecure and precarious;

and proved destructive to those vulgar and more necessary arts of

agriculture, manufactures, and commerce; and, in the end, to the

military art and genius itself, by which alone the immense fabric of the

empire could be supported. The irruption of the barbarous nations which

soon followed, overwhelmed all human knowledge, which was already far

in its decline; and men sunk every age deeper into ignorance, stupidity,

and superstition; till the light of ancient science and history had very

nearly suffered a total extinction in all the European nations.

But there is a point of depression, as well as of exaltation, from which

human affairs naturally return in a contrary direction, and beyond which

they seldom pass either in their advancement or decline. The period in

which the people of Christendom were the lowest sunk in ignorance, and

consequently in disorders of every kind, may justly be fixed at the

eleventh century, about the age of William the Conqueror; and from that

era the sun of science, beginning to reascend, threw out many gleams of

light, which preceded the full morning when letters were revived in the

fifteenth century. The Danes and other northern people, who had so long

infested all the coasts, and even the island parts of Europe, by their

depredations, having now learned the arts of tillage and agriculture,

found a certain subsistence at home, and were no longer tempted to

desert their industry, in order to seek a precarious livelihood by

rapine and by the plunder of their neighbors. The feudal governments

also, among the more southern nations, were reduced to a kind of system;

and though that strange species of civil polity was ill fitted to insure

either liberty or tranquillity, it was preferable to the universal

license and disorder which had every where preceded it. But perhaps

there was no event which tended further to the improvement of the age,

than one which has not been much remarked, the accidental finding of

a copy of Justinian’s Pandects, about the year 1130, in the town of

Amalfi, in Italy.

The ecclesiastics, who had leisure, and some inclination to study,

immediately adopted with zeal this excellent system of jurisprudence,

and spread the knowledge of it throughout every part of Europe. Besides

the intrinsic merit of the performance, it was recommended to them by

its original connection with the imperial city of Rome, which, being the

seat of their religion, seemed to acquire a new lustre and authority by

the diffusion of its laws over the western world. In less than ten years

after the discovery of the Pandects, Vacarius, under the protection of

Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury, read public lectures of civil law in

the university of Oxford; and the clergy every where, by their example

as well as exhortation, were the means of diffusing the highest esteem

for this new science. That order of men, having large possessions to

defend, was in a manner necessitated to turn their studies towards the

law; and their properties being often endangered by the violence of the

princes and barons, it became their interest to enforce the observance

of general and equitable rules, from which alone they could receive

protection. As they possessed all the knowledge of the age, and were

alone acquainted with the habits of thinking, the practice as well as

science of the law fell mostly into their hands: and though the close

connection which, without any necessity, they formed between the canon

and civil law, begat a jealousy in the laity of England, and prevented

the Roman jurisprudence from becoming the municipal law of the country,

as was the case in many states of Europe, a great part of it was

secretly transferred into the practice of the courts of justice, and

the imitation of their neighbors made the English gradually endeavor

to raise their own law from its original state of rudeness and

imperfection.

It is easy to see what advantages Europe must have reaped by its

inheriting at once from the ancients so complete an art, which was

also so necessary for giving security to all other arts, and which by

refining, and still more by bestowing solidity on the judgment, served

as a model to further improvements. The sensible utility of the Roman

law, both to public and private interest, recommended the study of it,

at a time when the more exalted and speculative sciences carried no

charms with them; and thus the last branch of ancient literature which

remained uncorrupted, was happily the first transmitted to the modern

world. For it is remarkable, that in the decline of Roman learning,

when the philosophers were universally infected with superstition and

sophistry, and the poets and historians with barbarism, the lawyers, who

in other countries are seldom models of science or politeness, were yet

able, by the constant study and close imitation of their predecessors,

to maintain the same good sense in their decisions and reasonings, and

the same purity in their language and expression.

What bestowed an additional merit on the civil law, was the extreme

imperfection of that jurisprudence which preceded it among all the

European nations, especially among the Saxons or ancient English.

The absurdities which prevailed at that time in the administration of

justice, may be conceived from the authentic monuments which remain of

the ancient Saxon laws; where a pecuniary commutation was received for

every crime, where stated prices were fixed for men’s lives and members,

where private revenges were authorized for all injuries, where the use

of the ordeal, corsnet, and afterwards of the duel, was the received

method of proof, and where the judges were rustic freeholders, assembled

of a sudden, and deciding a cause from one debate or altercation of the

parties. Such a state of society was very little advanced beyond the

rude state of nature: violence universally prevailed, instead of general

and equitable maxims: the pretended liberty of the times was only an

incapacity of submitting to government: and men, not protected by law in

their lives and properties, sought shelter, by their personal servitude

and attachments, under some powerful chieftain, or by voluntary

combinations.

The gradual progress of improvement raised the Europeans somewhat above

this uncultivated state; and affairs, in this island particularly, took

early a turn which was more favorable to justice and to liberty. Civil

employments and occupations soon became honorable among the English: the

situation of that people rendered not the perpetual attention to wars so

necessary as among their neighbors, and all regard was not confined to

the military profession: the gentry, and even the nobility, began to

deem an acquaintance with the law a necessary part of education: they

were less diverted than afterwards from studies of this kind by other

sciences; and in the age of Henry VI., as we are told by Fortescue,

there were in the inns of court about two thousand students, most of

them men of honorable birth, who gave application to this branch of

civil knowledge: a circumstance which proves, that a considerable

progress was already made in the science of government, and which

prognosticated a still greater.

One chief advantage which resulted from the introduction and progress

of the arts, was the introduction and progress of freedom; and this

consequence affected men both in their personal and civil capacities.

If we consider the ancient state of Europe, we shall find, that the far

greater part of the society were every where bereaved of their personal

liberty, and lived entirely at the will of their masters. Every one that

was not noble, was a slave: the peasants were sold along with the land:

the few inhabitants of cities were not in a better condition: even the

gentry themselves were subjected to a long train of subordination under

the greater barons or chief vassals of the crown; who, though seemingly

placed in a high state of splendor, yet, having but a slender protection

from law, were exposed to every tempest of the state, and, by the

precarious condition in which they lived, paid dearly for the power

of oppressing and tyrannizing over their inferiors. The first incident

which broke in upon this violent system of government, was the practice,

begun in Italy, and imitated in France, of erecting communities

and corporations, endowed with privileges and a separate municipal

government, which gave them protection against the tyranny of the

barons, and which the prince himself deemed it prudent to respect.[*]

* There appear early symptoms of the jealousy entertained by

the barons against the progress of the arts, as destructive

of their licentious power. A law was enacted, 7 Kenry IV.

chap. 17, prohibiting any one who did not possess twenty

shillings a year in land from binding his sons apprentices

to any trade. They found already that the cities began to

drain the country of the laborers and husbandmen: and did

not foresee how much the increase of commerce would increase

the value of their estates. See further, Cotton, p. 179. The

kings, to encourage the boroughs, granted them this

privilege, that any villein who had lived a twelvemonth in

any corporation, and had been of the guild, should be

thenceforth regarded as free.

The relaxation of the feudal tenures, and an execution somewhat stricter

of the public law, bestowed an independence on vassals which was unknown

to their forefathers. And even the peasants themselves, though later

than other orders of the state, made their escape from those bonds of

villenage or slavery in which they had formerly been retained.

It may appear strange that the progress of the arts, which seems, among

the Greeks and Romans, to have daily increased the number of slaves,

should, in later times, have proved so general a source of liberty; but

this difference in the events proceeded from a great difference in the

circumstances which attended those institutions. The ancient barons,

obliged to maintain themselves continually in a military posture, and

little emulous of elegance or splendor, employed not their villains

as domestic servants, much less as manufacturers; but composed their

retinue of freemen, whose military spirit rendered the chieftain

formidable to his neighbors, and who were ready to attend him in

every warlike enterprise. The villains were entirely occupied in the

cultivation of their master’s land, and paid their rents either in corn

and cattle, and other produce of the farm, or in servile offices, which

they performed about the baron’s family, and upon the farms which he

retained in his own possession. In proportion as agriculture improved

and money increased, it was found that these services, though extremely

burdensome to the villain, were of little advantage to the master;

and that the produce of a large estate could be much more conveniently

disposed of by the peasants themselves, who raised it, than by the

landlord or his bailiff, who were formerly accustomed to receive it. A

commutation was therefore made of rents for services, and of money-rents

for those in kind; and as men, in a subsequent age, discovered that

farms were better cultivated where the farmer enjoyed a security in

his possession, the practice of granting leases to the peasant began

to prevail, which entirely broke the bonds of servitude, already much

relaxed from the former practices. After this manner villenage went

gradually into disuse throughout the more civilized parts of Europe: the

interest of the master, as well as that of the slave, concurred in this

alteration. The latest laws which we find in England for enforcing or

regulating this species of servitude, were enacted in the reign of

Henry VII. And though the ancient statutes on this subject remain still

unrepealed by parliament, it appears that before the end of Elizabeth,

the distinction of villain and freeman was totally, though insensibly

abolished, and that no person remained in the state, to whom the former

laws could be applied.

Thus personal freedom became almost general in Europe; an advantage

which paved the way for the increase of political or civil liberty, and

which, even where it was not attended with this salutary effect, served

to give the members of the community some of the most considerable

advantages of it.

The constitution of the English government, ever since the invasion of

this island by the Saxons, may boast of this pre-eminence, that in no

age the will of the monarch was ever entirely absolute and uncontrolled;

but in other respects the balance of power has extremely shifted among

the several orders of the state; and this fabric has experienced the

same mutability that has attended all human institutions.

The ancient Saxons, like the other German nations, where each individual

was inured to arms, and where the independence of men was secured by

a great equality of possessions, seem to have admitted a considerable

mixture of democracy into their form of government, and to have been one

of the freest nations of which there remains any account in the records

of history. After this tribe was settled in England, especially after

the dissolution of the heptarchy, the great extent of the kingdom

produced a great inequality in property; and the balance seems to have

inclined to the side of aristocracy. The Norman conquest threw more

authority into the hands of the sovereign, which, however, admitted

of great control; though derived less from the general forms of the

constitution, which were inaccurate and irregular, than from the

independent power enjoyed by each baron in his particular district or

province. The establishment of the Great Charter exalted still higher

the aristocracy, imposed regular limits on royal power, and gradually

introduced some mixture of democracy into the constitution. But even

during this period, from the accession of Edward I. to the death of

Richard III., the condition of the commons was nowise eligible: a kind

of Polish aristocracy prevailed; and though the kings were limited, the

people were as yet far from being free. It required the authority almost

absolute of the sovereigns, which took place in the subsequent period,

to pull down those disorderly and licentious tyrants, who were equally

averse from peace and from freedom, and to establish that regular

execution of the laws, which, in a following age, enabled the people

to erect a regular and equitable plan of liberty. In each of

these successive alterations, the only rule of government which is

intelligible, or carries any authority with it, is the established

practice of the age, and the maxims of administration which are at that

time prevalent and universally assented to. Those who, from a pretended

respect to antiquity, appeal at every turn to an original plan of

the constitution, only cover their turbulent spirit and their private

ambition under the appearance of venerable forms; and whatever period

they pitch on for their model, they may still be carried back to a more

ancient period, where they will find the measures of power entirely

different, and where every circumstance, by reason of the greater

barbarity of the times, will appear still less worthy of imitation.

Above all, a civilized nation like the English, who have happily

established the most perfect and most accurate system of liberty that

was ever found compatible with government, ought to be cautious in

appealing to the practice of their ancestors, or regarding the maxims

of uncultivated ages as certain rules for their present conduct. An

acquaintance with the ancient periods of their government is

chiefly _useful_, by instructing them to cherish their present

constitution, from a comparison or contrast with the condition of

those distant times. And it is also _curious_, by showing them the

remote, and commonly faint and disfigured originals of the most finished

and most noble institutions, and by instructing them in the great

mixture of accident, which commonly concurs with a small ingredient of

wisdom and foresight, in erecting the complicated fabric of the most

perfect government.

NOTES.

[Footnote 1: NOTE A, p. 86. Rymer, vol. ii. p. 26, 845. There cannot

be the least question, that the homage usually paid by the kings of

Scotland was not for their crown, but for some other territory. The only

question remains, what that territory was. It was not always for the

earldom of Huntingdon, nor the honor of Penryth; because we find it

sometimes done at a time when these possessions were not in the hands of

the kings of Scotland. It is probable that the homage was performed in

general terms, without any particular specification of territory; and

this inaccuracy had proceeded either from some dispute between the

two kings about the territory and some opposite claims, which were

compromised by the general homage, or from the simplicity of the age,

which employed few words in every transaction. To prove this, we need

but look into the letter of King Richard, where he resigns the homage of

Scotland, reserving the usual homage. His words are, “Sæpedictus W.

Rex ligius homo noster deveniat de omnibus terris de quibus antecessores

sui antecessorum nostrorum ligii homines fuerunt, et nobis atque

hæredibus nostris fidelitatem jurarunt.” Rymer, vol. i. p. 65. These

general terms were probably copied from the usual form of the homage

itself.

It is no proof that the kings of Scotland possessed no lands or baronies

in England, because we cannot find them in the imperfect histories

and records of that age. For instance, it clearly appears from another

passage of this very letter of Richard, that the Scottish king held

lands both in the county of Huntingdon and elsewhere in England; though

the earldom of Huntingdon itself was then in the person of his brother

David; and we know at present of no other baronies which William held.

It cannot be expected that we should now be able to specify all his fees

which he either possessed or claimed in England; when it is probable

that the two monarchs themselves and their ministers would at that very

time have differed in the list: the Scottish king might possess some

to which his right was disputed; he might claim others which he did

not possess; and neither of the two kings was willing to resign his

pretensions by a particular enumeration.

A late author of great industry and learning, but full of prejudices,

and of no penetration, Mr. Carte, has taken advantage of the undefined

terms of the Scotch homage, and has pretended that it was done for

Lothian and Galloway: that is, all the territories of the country now

called Scotland, lying south of the Clyde and Forth. But to refute this

pretension at once, we need only consider, that if these territories

were held in fee of the English kings, there would, by the nature of the

feudal law as established in England, have been continual appeals from

them to the courts of the lord paramount; contrary to all the histories

and records of that age. We find that, as soon as Edward really

established his superiority, appeals immediately commenced from all

parts of Scotland: and that king, in his writ to the king’s bench,

considers them as a necessary consequence of the feudal tenure. Such

large territories also would have supplied a considerable part of the

English armies, which never could have escaped all the historians. Not

to mention that there is not any instance of a Scotch prisoner of

war being tried as a rebel, in the frequent hostilities between the

kingdoms, where the Scottish armies were chiefly filled from the

southern counties.

Mr. Carte’s notion with regard to Galloway, which comprehends, in the

language of that age, or rather in that of the preceding, most of the

south-west counties of Scotland; his notion, I say, rests on so slight a

foundation, that it scarcely merits being refuted. He will have it, (and

merely because he will have it,) that the Cumberland, yielded by King

Edmund to Malcolm I., meant not only the county in England of that name,

but all the territory northwards to the Clyde. But the case of Lothian

deserves some more consideration.

It is certain that, in very ancient language, Scotland means only the

country north of the Friths of Clyde and Forth. I shall not make a

parade of literature to prove it; because I do not find that this point

is disputed by the Scots themselves. The southern country was divided

into Galloway and Lothian; and the latter comprehended all the

south-east counties. This territory was certainly a part of the ancient

kingdom of Northumberland, and was entirely peopled by Saxons, who

afterwards received a great mixture of Danes among them. It appears from

all the English histories, that the whole kingdom of Northumberland paid

very little obedience to the Anglo-Saxon monarchs, who governed after

the dissolution of the heptarchy; and the northern and remote parts of

it seem to have fallen into a kind of anarchy, sometimes pillaged by

the Danes, sometimes joining them in their ravages upon other parts

of England. The kings of Scotland, lying nearer them, took at last

possession of the country, which had scarcely any government; and we are

told by Matthew of Westminster, (p. 193,) that King Edgar made a grant

of the territory to Kenneth III.; that is, he resigned claims which he

could not make effectual, without bestowing on them more trouble and

expense than they were worth: for these are the only grants of provinces

made by kings; and so ambitious and active a prince as Edgar would never

have made presents of any other kind. Though Matthew of Westminster’s

authority may appear small with regard to so remote a transaction,

yet we may admit it in this case, because Ordericus Vitalis, a good

authority, tells us, (p. 701,) that Malcolm acknowledged to William

Rufus, that the Conqueror had confirmed to him the former grant of

Lothian. But it follows not, because Edgar made this species of grant

to Kenneth, that therefore he exacted homage for that territory. Homage,

and all the rites of the feudal law, were very little known among

the Saxons; and we may also suppose, that the gla’n of Edgar was so

antiquated and weak, that, in resigning it, he made no very valuable

concession, and Kenneth might well refuse to hold, by so precarious a

tenure, a territory which he at present held by the sword. In short, no

author says he did homage for it.

The only color indeed of authority for Mr. Carte’s notion is, that

Matthew Fans, who wrote in the reign of Henry III., before Edward’s

claim of superiority was heard of, says that Alexander III. did homage

to Henry III. “pro Laudiano et aliis terris.” See p.555. This word seems

naturally to be interpreted Lothian. But, in the first place, Matthew

Paris’s testimony, though considerable, will not outweigh that of all

the other historians, who say that the Scotch homage was always done

for lands in England. Secondly, if the Scotch homage was done in general

terms, (as has been already proved,) it is no wonder that historians

should differ in their account of the object of it, since it is probable

the parties themselves were not fully agreed. Thirdly, there is reason

to think that Laudianum in Matthew Paris does not mean the Lothians, now

in Scotland. There appears to have been a territory which anciently

bore that or a similar name in the north of England. For (1.) the

Saxon Chronicle (p.197) says, that Malcolm Kenmure met William Rufus in

Lodene, in England. (2.) It is agreed by all historians, that Henry II.

only reconquered from Scotland the northern counties of Northumberland,

Cumberland, and Westmoreland. See Newbriggs, p.383. Wykes, p.30.

Hemingford, p.492, Yet the same country is called by other historians

Loidis, comitatus Lodonensis, or some such name. See M. Paris, p.68.

M. Westi p.247. Annal. Wayerl. p.159, and Diceto, p.531. (3.) This

last-mentioned author, when he speaks of Lothian in Scotland, calls it

Loheneis, (p.574,) though he had called the English territory Loidis.

I thought this long note necessary in order to correct Mr. Carte’s

mistake, an author whose diligence and industry has given light to many

passages of the more ancient English history.]

[Footnote 2: NOTE B, p.86. Rymer, vol. ii. p.543. It is remarkable that

the English chancellor spoke to the Scotch parliament in the French

tongue. This was also the language commonly made use of by all parties

on that occasion. I bid, passim. Some of the most considerable among the

Scotch, as well as almost all the English barons, were of French origin:

they valued themselves upon it; and pretended to despise the language

and manners of the island. It is difficult to account for the settlement

of so many French families in Scotland; the Bruces, Baliols, St.

Glairs, Montgomeries, Somervilles, Gordons, Frasers, Cummins; Colvilles,

Umfrevilles, Mowbrays, Hays, Maules, who were not supported there, as in

England, by the power of the sword. But the superiority of the

smallest civility and knowledge over total ignorance and barbarism, is

prodigious.]

[Footnote 3: NOTE C, p.91. See Rymer, vol. ii. p.533, where Edward

writes to the king’s bench to receive appeals from Scotland. He knew the

practice to be new and unusual; yet he establishes it as an infallible

consequence cf his superiority. We learn also from the same collection,

(p. 603,) that immediately upon receiving the homage, he changed the

style of his address to the Scotch king, whom he now calk “dilecto et

fideli,” instead of “fratri dilecto et fideli,” the appellation which he

had always before used to him. See p. 109, 124, 168, 280, 1064. This is

a certain proof that he himself was not deceived, as was scarcely indeed

possible, but that he was conscious of his usurpation. Yet he solemnly

swore afterwards to the justice of his pretensions, when he defended

them before Pope Boniface.]

[Footnote 4: NOTE D, p. 104. Throughout the reign of Edward I., the

assent of the commons is not once expressed in any of the enacting

clauses; nor in the reigns ensuing, till the 9 Edward III., nor in any

of the enacting clauses of 16 Richard II. Nay, even so low as Henry

VI., from the beginning till the eighth of his reign, the assent of the

commons is not once expressed in any enacting clause. See preface to

Ruffhead’s edit, of the Statutes, p. 7. If it should be asserted, that

the commons had really given their assent to these statutes, though

they are not expressly mentioned, this very omission, proceeding, if you

will, from carelessness, is a proof how little they were respected. The

commons were so little accustomed to transact public business, that

they had no speaker till after the parliament 6 Edward III. See Prynne’s

preface to Cotton’s Abridg.: not till the first of Richard II. in the

opinion of most antiquaries. The commons were very unwilling to meddle

in any state affairs, and commonly either referred themselves to the

lords, or desired a select committee of that house to assist them, as

appears from Cotton. 5 Edw. III. n. 5; 15 Edw. III. a. 17; 21 Edw. III.

n. 5; 47 Edw. III. n. 5; 50 Edw. III. n. 10; 51 Edw. III. n. 18; 1 Rich.

II. n. 12; 2 Rich. II. n. 12; 5 Rich. II. n 14; 2 parl. 6 Rich. II. n.

14; parl. 2, 6 Rich. II. n. 8, etc.]

[Footnote 5: NOTE E, p. 105. It was very agreeable to the maxims of all

the feudal governments, that every order of the state should give their

consent to the acts which more immediately concerned them; and as the

notion of a political system was not then so well understood, the other

orders of the state were often not consulted on these occasions. In

this reign, even the merchants, though no public body, granted the king

impositions on merchandise, because the first payments came out of their

pockets. They did the same in the reign of Edward III.; but the

commons had then observed that the people paid these duties, though the

merchants advanced them; and they therefore remonstrated against this

practice. Cotton’s Abridg. p. 39. The taxes imposed by the knights on

the counties were always lighter than those which the burgesses laid on

the boroughs; a presumption, that in voting those taxes the knights and

burgesses did not form the same house. See Chancellor West’s Inquiry

into the Manner of creating Peers, p. 8. But there are so many proofs,

that those two orders of representative were long separate, that it is

needless to insist on them. Mr. Carte, who had carefully consulted the

rolls of parliament, affirms, that they never appear to have been united

till the sixteenth of Edward III. See Hist. vol. ii. p,451. But it is

certain that this union was not even then final: in 1372, the burgesses

acted by themselves, and voted a tax after the knights were dismissed.

See Tyrrel, Hist, vol. iii. p. 754, from Rot. Claus. 46 Edward III.

n. 9. In 1376, they were the knights alone who passed a vote for

the removal of Alice Pierce from the king’s person, if we may credit

Walsingham, p. 189. There is an instance of a like kind in the reign

of Richard II. Cotton, p.193. The different taxes voted by those two

branches of the lower house, naturally kept them separate; but as their

petitions had mostly the same object, namely, the redress of grievances,

and the support of law and justice both against the crown and the

barons, this cause as naturally united them, and was the reason why they

at last joined in one house for the despatch of business. The barons had

few petitions. Their privileges were of more ancient date. Grievances

seldom affected them: they were themselves the chief oppressors. In

1333, the knights by themselves concurred with the bishops and barons in

advising the king to stay his journey into Ireland. Here was a petition

which regarded a matter of state, and was supposed to be above the

capacity of the burgesses. The knights, therefore, acted apart in this

petition. See Cotton, Abridg. p. 13. Chief baron Gilbert thinks, that

the reason why taxes always began with the commons or burgesses was,

that they were limited by the instructions of their boroughs. See Hist,

of the Exchequer, p. 37.]

[Footnote 5: NOTE F, p. 105. The chief argument from ancient authority,

for the opinion that the representatives of boroughs preceded the

forty-ninth of Henry in., is the famous petition of the borough of

St. Albans, first taken notice of by Selden, and then by Petyt, Brady,

Tyrrel, and others. In this petition, presented to the parliament in the

reign of Edward II., take town of St. Albans asserts, that though they

held “in capite” of the crown, and owed only, for all other service,

their attendance in parliament, yet the sheriff had omitted them in

his writs; whereas, both in the reign of the king’s father, and all his

predecessors, they had always sent members. Now, say the defenders of

this opinion, if the commencement of the house of commons were in Henry

III.’ reign, this expression could not have been used. But Hadox, in his

History of the Exchequer, (p. 522, 523, 524,) has endeavored, and with

great reason, to destroy the authority of this petition for the purpose

alleged. He asserts, first, that there was no such tenure in England

is that of holding by attendance in parliament, instead of all other

service. Secondly, that the borough of St. Albans never held of take

crown at all, but was always demesne land of the abbot. It is no wonder,

therefore, that a petition which advances two falsehoods, should contain

one historical mistake, which indeed amounts only to an inaccurate and

exaggerated expression; no strange matter in ignorant burgesses of that

age. Accordingly, St. Albans continued still to belong to the abbot. It

never held of the crown, call after the dissolution of the monasteries.

But the assurance of these petition *ers is remarkable. They wanted to

shake off the authority of their abbot, and to hold of the king; but

were unwilling to pay any services even to the crown; upon which they

framed this idle petition, which later writers have made the foundation

of so many inferences and conclusions. From the tenor of the petition it

appears, that there was a close connection between holding of the crown

and being represented in parliament. The latter had scarcely ever place

without the former; yet we learn from Tyrell’s Append. vol. iv. that

there were some instances to the contrary. It is not improbable that

Edward followed the roll of the earl of Leicester, who had summoned,

without distinction, all the considerable boroughs of the kingdom; among

which there might be some few that did not hold of the crown. Edward

also found it necessary to impose taxes on all the boroughs in the

kingdom, without distinction. This was a good expedient for augmenting

his revenue. We are not to imagine, because the house of commons have

since become of great importance, that the first summoning of them would

form any remarkable and striking epoch, and be generally known to

the people even seventy or eighty years after. So ignorant were the

generality of men in that age, that country burgesses would readily

imagine an innovation, seemingly so little material, to have existed

from time immemorial, because it was beyond their own memory, and

perhaps that of their fathers. Even the parliament in the reign of Henry

V. say, that Ireland had, from the beginning of time, been subject to

the crown of England. (See Brady.) And surely if any thing interests the

people above all others, it is war and conquests, with their dates and

circumstances]

[Footnote 7: NOTE G, p. 233. This story of the six burgesses of Calais,

like all other extraordinary stories, is somewhat to be suspected;

and so much the more as Avesbury, (p. 167,) who is particular in his

narration of the surrender of Calais, says nothing of it; and, on the

contrary, extols in general the king’s generosity and lenity to the

inhabitants. The numberless mistakes of Froissard, proceeding either

from negligence, credulity, or love of the marvellous, invalidate very

much his testimony, even though he was a contemporary, and though his

history was dedicated to Queen Philippa herself. It is a mistake to

imagine, that the patrons of dedications read the books, much less vouch

for all the contents of them. It is not a slight testimony that should

make us give credit to a story so dishonorable to Edward, especially

after that proof of his humanity, in allowing a free passage to all the

women, children, and infirm people, at the beginning of the siege:

at least, it is scarcely to be believed, that, if the story has any

foundation, he seriously meant to execute his menaces against the six

townsmen of Calais.]

[Footnote 8: NOTE H, p. 236. There was a singular instance, About this

time, of the prevalence of chivalry and gallantry in the nations of

Europe. A solemn duel of thirty knights against thirty was fought

between Bembrwigh, as Englishman, and Beaumanoir, a Breton, of the party

of Charles of Blois, The knights of the two nations came into the field;

and before the combat began, Beaumanoir called out, that it would be

seen that day who had the fairest mistresses. After a bloody combat, the

Bretons prevailed; and gained for their prize, full liberty to boast

of their mistresses’ beauty. It is remarkable, that two such famous

generals as Sir Robert Knolles and Sir Hugh Calverley drew their swords

in this ridiculous contest. See Pere Daniel, vol. ii. p.536, 537, etc.

The women not only instigated the champions to those rough, if not

bloody frays of tournament, but also frequented the tournaments during

all the reign of Edward, whose spirit of gallantry encouraged this

practice. See Knyghton, p. 2597.]

[Footnote 9: NOTE I, p. 253. This is a prodigious sum, and probably near

the half of what the king received from the parliament during the whole

course of his reign. It must be remarked, that a tenth and fifteenth

(which was always thought a high grant) were, in the eighth year of this

reign, fixed at about twenty-nine thousand pounds; there were said to be

near thirty thousand sacks of wool exported every year. A sack of wool

was at a medium sold for five pounds. Upon these suppositions it would

be easy to compute all the parliamentary grants, taking the list as they

stand in Tyrrel, vol. iii. p. 780; though somewhat must still be left to

conjecture. This king levied more money on his subjects than any of his

predecessors; and the parliament frequently complain of the poverty of

the people, and the oppressions under which they labored. But it is to

be remarked, that a third of the French king’s ransom was yet unpaid

when war broke out anew between the two crowns. His son chose rather to

employ his money in combating the English, than in enriching them. See

Rymer, vol. viii. p. 315.]

[Footnote 11: NOTE K, p. 281. In the fifth year of the king, the commons

complained of the government about the king’s person, his court, the

excessive number of his servants, of the abuses in the chancery, king’s

bench, common pleas, exchequer, and of grievous oppressions in the

country, by the great multitudes of maintainers of quarrels, (men linked

in confederacies together,) who behaved themselves like kings in the

country, so as there was very little law or right, and of other things

which they said were the cause of the late commotions under Wat Tyler.

Parl. Hist. vol. i. p. 365. This irregular government, which no king

and no house of commons had been able to remedy, was the source of the

licentiousness of the great, and turbulency of the people, as well

as tyranny of the princes. If subjects would enjoy liberty, and kings

security, the laws must be executed.

In the ninth of this reign, also the commons discovered an accuracy

and a jealousy of liberty, which we should little expect in those rude

times. “It was agreed by parliament,” says Cotton, (p.309), “that the

subsidy of wools, woolfels, and skins, granted to the king until the

time of midsummer then ensuing, should cease from the same time unto

the feast of St. Peter ‘ad vincula’ for that thereby the king should be

interrupted for claiming such grant as due.” See also Cotton, p. 198.]

[Footnote 12: NOTE L, p. 290. Knyghton, p. 2715, etc. The same author

(p. 2680) tells us, that the king, in return to the message, said,

that he would not for their desire remove the meanest scullion from

his kitchen. This author also tells us, that the king said to the

commissioners, when they harangued him, that he saw his subjects were

rebellious, and his best way would be to call in the king of France to

his aid. But it is plain that all these speeches were either intended

by Knyghton merely as an ornament to his history, or are false. For (1.)

when the five lords accuse the king’s ministers in the next parliament,

and impute to them every rash action of the king, they speak nothing of

these replies, which are so obnoxious, were so recent, and are

pretended to have been so public. (2.) The king, so far from having any

connections at that time with France, was threatened with a dangerous

invasion from that kingdom. This story seems to have been taken from

the reproaches afterwards thrown out against him, and to have been

transferred by the historian to this time, to which they cannot be

applied.]

[Footnote 13: NOTE M, p. 295. We must except the twelfth article, which

accuses Brembre of having cut off the heads of twenty-two prisoners

confined for felony or debt, without warrant or process of law; but as

it is not conceivable what interest Brembre could have to treat these

felons and debtors in such a manner, we may presume that the fact is

either false or misrepresented. It was in these men’s power to say any

thing against the persons accused. No defence or apology was admitted;

all was lawless will and pleasure.

They are also accused of designs to murder the lords; but these

accusations either are general, or destroy one another. Sometimes, as in

article fifteenth, they intend to murder them by means of the mayor and

city of London; sometimes, as in article twenty-eighth, by trial and

false inquests; sometimes, as in article twenty-eighth, by means of the

king of France, who was to receive Calais for his pains.]

[Footnote 14: NOTE N, p. 296. In general, the parliament, in those days,

never paid a proper regard to Edward’s statute of treasons, though

one of the most advantageous laws for the subject that has ever been

enacted. In the seventeenth of the king, the dukes of Lancaster and

Glocester complain to Richard, that Sir Thomas Talbot, with others of

his adherents conspired the death of the said dukes in divers parts of

Cheshire, as the same was confessed and well known; and praying that the

parliament may judge of the fault. Whereupon the king and the lords in

the parliament judged the same fact to be open and high treason; and

hereupon they award two writs, the one to the sheriff of York, and the

other to the sheriffs of Derby, to take the body of the said Sir Thomas,

returnable in the king’s bench in the month of Easter then ensuing. And

open proclamation was made in Westminster Hall, that upon the sheriffs

return, and at the next coming in of the said Sir Thomas, the said

Thomas should be convicted of treason, and incur the loss and pain of

the same; and all such as should receive him after the proclamation

should incur the same loss and pain. Cotton, p. 354. It is to be

observed, that this extraordinary judgment was passed in a time of

tranquillity. Though the statute itself of Edward III. reserves a power

to the parliament to declare any new species of treason, it is not to

be supposed that this power was reserved to the house of lords alone, or

that men were to be judged by a law “ex post facto.” At least, if such

be the meaning of the clause, it may be affirmed, that men were at that

time very ignorant of the first principles of law and justice.]

[Footnote 15: NOTE O, p. 301. In the preceding parliament, the commons

had shown a disposition very complaisant to the king; yet there happened

an incident in their proceedings which is curious, and shows us the

state of the house during that period. The members were either country

gentlemen or merchants, who were assembled for a few days, and were

entirely unacquainted with business; so that it was easy to lead them

astray, and draw them into votes and resolutions very different from

their intention. Some petitions concerning the state of the nation were

voted: in which, among other things, the house recommended frugality to

the king; and for that purpose desired that the court should not be

so much frequented as formerly by bishops and ladies. The king was

displeased with this freedom; the commons very humbly craved pardon. He

was not satisfied unless they would name the mover of the petitions.

It happened to be one Haxey, whom the parliament, in order to make

atonement, condemned for this offence to die the death of a traitor.

But the king, at the desire of the archbishop of Canterbury and the

prelates, pardoned him. When a parliament in those times, not agitated

by any faction, and being at entire freedom, could be guilty of such

monstrous extravagance, it is easy to judge what might be expected from

them in more trying situations. See Cotton’s Abridg. p. 361, 362.]

[Footnote 16: NOTE P, p. 312. To show how little credit is to be given

to this charge against Richard, we may observe, that a law in the 13th

Edward III. had been enacted against the continuance of sheriffs for

more than one year. But the inconvenience of changes having afterwards

appeared, from experience, the commons, in the twentieth of this king,

applied; by petition, that the sheriffs might be continued; though

that petition had not been enacted into a statute, by reason of other

disagreeable circumstances which attended it. See Cotton, p. 361. It was

certainly a very moderate exercise of the dispensing power in the king

to continue the sheriffs, after he found that that practice would be

acceptable to his subjects, and had been applied for by one house of

parliament; yet is this made an article of charge against him by the

present parliament. See article 18. Walsingham, speaking of a period

early in Richard’s minority, says, “But what do acts of parliament

signify, when, after they are made, they take no effect, since the king,

by the advice of the privy council, takes upon him to alter, or wholly

set aside, all those things which by general consent had been ordained

in parliament?” If Richard, therefore, exercised the dispensing power,

he was warranted by the examples of his uncles and grandfather, and

indeed of all his predecessors from the time of Henry III., inclusive.]

[Footnote 17: NOTE Q, p. 318. The following passage in Cotton’s

Abridgment (p. 196) shows a strange prejudice against the church and

churchmen. “The commons afterwards coming into the parliament, and

making their protestation, showed, that for want of good redress

about the king’s person in his household, in all his courts, touching

maintainers in every county, and purveyors, the commons were daily

pilled, and nothing defended against the enemy, and that it should

shortly deprive the king and undo the state. Wherefore in the same

government they entirely require redress. Whereupon the king appointed

sundry bishops, lords, and nobles, to sit in privy council about these

matters; who, since that they must begin at the head, and go at the

request of the commons, they, in the presence of the king, charged

his confessor not to come into the court but upon the four principal

festivals.” We should little expect that a popish privy council, in

order to preserve the king’s morals, should order his confessor to be

kept at a distance from him. This incident happened in the minority of

Richard. As the popes had for a long time resided at Avignon, and

the majority of the sacred college were Frenchmen, this circumstance

naturally increased the aversion of the nation to the papal power; but

the prejudice against the English clergy cannot be accounted for from

that cause.]

[Footnote 18: NOTE R, p. 450. That we may judge how arbitrary a court

that of the constable of England was, we may peruse the patent granted

to the earl of Rivers in this reign, as it is to be found in Spellman’s

Glossary in verb. Constabularius: as also more fully in Rymer, vol. xi.

p. 581. Here is a clause of it: “Et ulterius de uberiori gratia nostra

eidem comiti de Rivers plenam potestatem damus ad cognoscendum et

procedendum, in omnibus et singulis causis et negotiis, de et super

crimine lesse majestatis, seu super occasione eseterisque causis

quibuscunque per præfatum comitem de Rivers, ut constabularium

Angliæ----quæ in curia constabularii Angliæ ab antique, viz, tempore

dicti domini Gtilielmi Conquætoris, sen aliquo tempore citra, tractari,

audiri examinari, aut decidi consueverant, aut jure debuerant aut

clebeni, causasque et negotia prædicta cum omnibus et singulis

emergentibus, incidentibus et connexis, audiendum, examinandum, et fine

debito terminandum, etiam _summarie et de plano, sine strepitu et

figura justitiæ, sola facti veritate inspecta,_ ac etiam manu

regia, si opportunum visum fuerit eidem comiti de Rivers, vices nostras,

appellatione remots.” The office of constable was perpetual in the

monarchy; its jurisdiction was not limited to times of war, as appears

from this patent, and as we learn from Spellman; yet its authority was

in direct contradiction to Magna Charta; and it is evident, that no

regular liberty could subsist with it. It involved a full dictatorial

power, continually subsisting in the state. The only check on the crown,

besides the want of force to support all its prerogatives, was, that the

office of constable was commonly either hereditary or during life,

and the person invested with it was, for that reason, not so proper an

instrument of arbitrary power in the king. Accordingly the office

was suppressed by Henry VIII., the most arbitrary of all the English

princes. The practice, however, of exercising martial law still

subsisted; and was not abolished till the Petition of Right under

Charles I. This was the epoch of true liberty, confirmed by the

restoration, and enlarged and secured by the revolution.]

[Footnote 19: NOTE S, p. 459. We shall give an instance. Almost all

the historians, even Coraines, and the continuator of the Annals of

Croyland, assert that Edward was about this time taken prisoner by

Clarence and Warwick, and was committed to the custody of the archbishop

of York, brother to the earl; but being allowed to take the diversion of

hunting by this prelate, he made his escape, and afterwards chased the

rebels out of the kingdom. But that all the story is false, appears

from Rymer, where we find that the king, throughout all this period,

continually exercised his authority, and never was interrupted in his

government. On the 7th of March, 1470, he gives a commission of array

to Clarence, whom he then imagined a good subject; and on the 23d of the

same month, we find him issuing an order for apprehending him, Besides,

in the king’s manifesto against the duke and earl, (Claus. 10. Edward

IV. m. 7, 8,) where he enumerates all their treasons, he mentions no

such fact; he does not so much as accuse them of exciting young Welles’s

rebellion; he only says, that they exhorted him to continue in his

rebellion. We may judge how smaller facts will be misrepresented

by historians, who can in the most material transactions mistake so

grossly. There may even some doubt arise with regard to the proposal of

marriage made to Bona of Savoy; though almost all the historians concur

in it, and the fact be very likely in itself; for there are no traces in

Rymer of any such embassy of Warwick’s to France. The chief certainty in

this and the preceding reign arises either from public records, or from

the notice taken of certain passages by the French historians. On the

contrary, for some centuries after the conquest, the French history

is not complete without the assistance of English authors. We may

conjecture, that the reason of the scarcity of historians during this

period, was the destruction of the convents, which ensued so soon

after. Copies of the more recent historians not being yet sufficiently

dispersed, those histories hare perished.]

[Footnote 20: NOTE T, p. 490. Sir Thomas More, who has been followed,

or rather transcribed, by all the historians of this short reign, says,

that Jane Shore had fallen into connections with Lord Hastings; and this

account agrees best with the course of the events; but in a proclamation

of Richard’s, to be found in Rymer, vol. xii. p. 204, the marquis of

Dorset is reproached with these connections. This reproach, however,

might have been invented by Richard, or founded only on popular rumor;

and is not sufficient to overbalance the authority of Sir Thomas More.

The proclamation is remarkable for the hypocritical purity of manners

affected by Richard. This bloody and treacherous tyrant upbraids the

marquis and others with their gallantries and intrigues as the most

terrible enormities.]

[Footnote 21: NOTE U, p., 507. Every one that has perused the ancient

monkish writers know that, however barbarous their own style, they are

full of allusions to the Latin classics, especially the poets. There

seems also in those middle ages to have remained many ancient books that

are now lost. Maimesbury, who flourished in the reign of Henry I. and

King Stephen, quotes Livy’s description of Caesar’s passage over the

Rubicon. Fitz-Stephen, who lived in the reign of Henry II., alludes to

a passage in the larger history of Sallust. In the collection of letters

which passes under the name of Thomas a Becket, we see how familiar all

the ancient history and ancient books were to the more ingenious and

more dignified churchmen of that time, and consequently how much that

order of men must have surpassed all the other members of the society.

That prelate and his friends call each other philosophers in all the

course of their correspondence, and consider the rest of the world as

sunk in total ignorance and barbarism.]

The History of England in Three Volumes, Vol. I., Part B. From Henry III. to Richard III. · 第 15 / 15 章