III. The murder of his brother Clarence.

In the examination of this article, I shall set aside our

historians (whose gossipping narratives, as we have seen, deserve

little regard) because we have better authority to direct our

inquiries: and this is, the attainder of the duke of Clarence, as it

is set forth in the Parliamentary History (copied indeed from

Habington's Life of Edward the Fourth) and by the editors of that

history justly supposed to be taken from Stowe, who had seen the

original bill of attainder. The crimes and conspiracy of Clarence

are there particularly enumerated, and even his dealing with

conjurers and necromancers, a charge however absurd, yet often made

use of in that age. Eleanor Cobham, wife of Humphrey duke of

Gloucester, had been condemned on a parallel accusation. In France

it was a common charge; and I think so late as in the reign of Henry

the Eighth Edward duke of Buckingham was said to have consulted

astrologers and such like cattle, on the succession of the crown.

Whether Clarence was guilty we cannot easily tell; for in those

times neither the public nor the prisoner were often favoured with

knowing the evidence on which sentence was passed. Nor was much

information of that sort given to or asked by parliament itself,

previous to bills of attainder. The duke of Clarence appears to have

been at once a weak, volatile, injudicious, and ambitious man. He

had abandoned his brother Edward, had espoused the daughter of

Warwick, the great enemy of their house, and had even been declared

successor to Henry the Sixth and his son prince Edward. Conduct so

absurd must have left lasting impressions on Edward's mind, not to

be effaced by Clarence's subsequent treachery to Henry and Warwick.

The Chronicle of Croyland mentions the ill-humour and discontents of

Clarence; and all our authors agree, that he kept no terms with the

queen and her relations.(1) Habington adds, that these discontents

were secretly fomented by the duke of Gloucester. Perhaps they were:

Gloucester certainly kept fair with the queen, and profited largely

by the forfeiture of his brother. But where jealousies are secretly

fomented in a court, they seldom come to the knowledge of an

historian; and though he may have guessed right from collateral

circumstances, these insinuations are mere gratis dicta and can only

be treated as surmises.(2) Hall, Hollingshed, and Stowe say not a

word of Richard being the person who put the sentence in execution;

but, on the contrary, they all say he openly resisted the murder of

Clarence: all too record another circumstance, which is perfectly

ridiculous that Clarence was drowned in a barrel or butt of malmsey.

Whoever can believe that a butt of wine was the engine of his death,

may believe that Richard helped him into it, and kept him down till

he was suffocated. But the strong evidence on which Richard must be

acquitted, and indeed even of having contributed to his death, was

the testimony of Edward himself. Being some time afterward solicited

to pardon a notorious criminal, the king's conscience broke forth;

"Unhappy brother!" cried he, "for whom no man would intercede--yet

ye all can be intercessors for a villain!" If Richard had been

instigator or executioner, it is not likely that the king would

have assumed the whole merciless criminality to himself, without

bestowing a due share on his brother Gloucester. Is it possible to

renew the charge, and not recollect this acquittal?

(1) That chronicle, which now and then, though seldom, is

circumstantial, gives a curious account of the marriage of Richard

duke of Gloucester and Anne Nevil, which I have found in no other

author; and which seems to tax the envy and rapaciousness of

Clarence as the causes of the dissention between the brothers. This

account, and from a cotemporary, is the more remarkable, as the Lady

Anne is positively said to have been only betrothed to Edward prince

of Wales, son of Henry the Sixth, and not his widow, as she is

carelessly called by all our historians, and represented in

Shakespeare's masterly scene. "Postquam filius regis Henrici, cui

Domina Anna, minor filia comitis Warwici, desponsata fuit, in

prefato bello de Tewkysbury occubuit," Richard, duke of Gloucester

desired her for his wife. Clarence, who had married the elder

sister, was unwilling to share so rich an inheritance with his

brother, and concealed the young lady. Gloucester was too alert for

him, and discovered the Lady Anne in the dress of a cookmaid in

London, and removed her to the sanctuary of St. Martin. The brothers

pleaded each his cause in person before their elder brother in

counsel; and every man, says the author, admired the strength of

their respective arguments. The king composed their differences,

bestowed the maiden on Gloucester, and parted the estate between him

and Clarence; the countess of Warwick, mother of the heiresses, and

who had brought that vast wealth to the house of Nevil, remaining

the only sufferer, being reduced to a state of absolute necessity,

as appears from Dugdale. In such times, under such despotic

dispensations, the greatest crimes were only consequences of the

economy of government.--Note, that Sir Richard Baker is so absurd as

to make Richard espouse the Lady Anne after his accession, though he

had a son by her ten years old at that time.

(2) The chronicle above quoted asserts, that the speaker of the

house of commons demanded the execution of Clarence. Is it credible

that, on a proceeding so public, and so solemn for that age, the

brother of the offended monarch and of the royal criminal should

have been deputed, or would have stooped to so vile an office? On

such occasions do arbitrary princes want tools? Was Edward's court

so virtuous or so humane, that it could furnish no assassin but the

first prince of the blood? When the house of commons undertook to

colour the king's resentment, was every member of it too scrupulous

to lend his hand to the deed?

The three preceding accusations are evidently uncertain and

improbable. What follows is more obscure; and it is on the ensuing

transactions that I venture to pronounce, that we have little or no

authority on which to form positive conclusions. I speak more

particularly of the deaths of Edward the Fifth and his brother. It

will, I think, appear very problematic whether they were murdered or

not: and even if they were murdered, it is impossible to believe the

account as fabricated and divulged by Henry the Seventh, on whose

testimony the murder must rest at last; for they, who speak most

positively, revert to the story which he was pleased to publish

eleven years after their supposed deaths, and which is so absurd, so

incoherent, and so repugnant to dates and other facts, that as it is

no longer necessary to pay court to his majesty, it is no longer

necessary not to treat his assertions as an impudent fiction. I come

directly to this point, because the intervening articles of the

executions of Rivers, Gray, Vaughan, and Hastings will naturally

find their place in that disquisition.

And here it will be important to examine those historians on whose

relation the story first depends. Previous to this, I must ascertain

one or two dates, for they are stubborn evidence and cannot be

rejected: they exist every where, and cannot be proscribed even from

a Court Calendar.

Edward the Fourth died April 9th, 1483. Edward, his eldest son, was

then thirteen years of age. Richard Duke of York, his second son,

was about nine.

We have but two cotemporary historians, the author of the Chronicle

of Croyland, and John Fabian. The first, who wrote in his convent,

and only mentioned incidentally affairs of state, is very barren and

concise: he appears indeed not to have been ill informed, and

sometimes even in a situation of personally knowing the transactions

of the times; for in one place we are told in a marginal note, that

the doctor of the canon law, and one of the king's councellors, who

was sent to Calais, was the author of the Continuation. Whenever

therefore his assertions are positive, and not merely flying

reports, he ought to be admitted as fair evidence, since we have no

better. And yet a monk who busies himself in recording the

insignificant events of his own order or monastery, and who was at

most occasionally made use of, was not likely to know the most

important and most mysterious secrets of state; I mean, as he was

not employed in those iniquitous transactions--if he had been, we

should learn or might expect still less truth from him.

John Fabian was a merchant, and had been sheriff of London, and died

in 1512: he consequently lived on the spot at that very interesting

period. Yet no sheriff was ever less qualified to write a history of

England. His narrative is dry, uncircumstantial, and unimportant: he

mentions the deaths of princes and revolutions of government, with

the same phlegm and brevity as he would speak of the appointment of

churchwardens. I say not this from any partiality, or to decry the

simple man as crossing my opinion; for Fabian's testimony is far

from bearing hard against Richard, even though he wrote under Henry

the Seventh, who would have suffered no apology for his rival, and

whose reign was employed not only in extirpating the house of York,

but in forging the most atrocious calumnies to blacken their

memories, and invalidate their just claim.

But the great source from whence all later historians have taken

their materials for the reign of Richard the Third, is Sir Thomas

More. Grafton, the next in order, has copied him verbatim: so does

Hollingshed--and we are told by the former in a marginal note, that

Sir Thomas was under-sheriff of London when he composed his work. It

is in truth a composition, and a very beautiful one. He was then in

the vigour of his fancy, and fresh from the study of the Greek and

Roman historians, whose manner he has imitated in divers imaginary

orations. They serve to lengthen an unknown history of little more

than two months into a pretty sizeable volume; but are no more to be

received as genuine, than the facts they adduced to countenance. An

under-sheriff of London, aged but twenty-eight, and recently marked

with the displeasure of the crown, was not likely to be furnished

with materials from any high authority, and could not receive them

from the best authority, I mean the adverse party, who were

proscribed, and all their chiefs banished or put to death. Let us

again recur to dates.(3) Sir Thomas More was born in 1480: he was

appointed under-sheriff in 1508, and three years before had offended

Henry the Seventh in the tender point of opposing a subsidy. Buck,

the apologist of Richard the Third, ascribes the authorities of Sir

Thomas to the information of archbishop Morton; and it is true that

he had been brought up under that prelate; but Morton died in 1500,

when Sir Thomas was but twenty years old, and when he had scarce

thought of writing history. What materials he had gathered from his

master were probably nothing more than a general narrative of the

preceding times in discourse at dinner or in a winter's evening, if

so raw a youth can be supposed to have been admitted to familiarity

with a prelate of that rank and prime minister. But granting that

such pregnant parts as More's had leaped the barrier of dignity, and

insinuated himself into the archbishop's favour; could he have drawn

from a more corrupted source? Morton had not only violated his

allegiance to Richard; but had been the chief engine to dethrone

him, and to plant a bastard scyon in the throne. Of all men living

there could not be more suspicious testimony than the prelate's,

except the king's: and had the archbishop selected More for the

historian of those dark scenes, who had so much, interest to blacken

Richard, as the man who had risen to be prime minister to his rival?

Take it therefore either way; that the archbishop did or did not

pitch on a young man of twenty to write that history, his authority

was as suspicious as could be.

(3) Vide Biog. Britannica, p. 3159.

It may be said, on the other hand, that Sir Thomas, who had smarted

for his boldness (for his father, a judge of the king's bench, had

been imprisoned and fined for his son's offence) had had little

inducement to flatter the Lancastrian cause. It is very true; nor am

I inclined to impute adulation to one of the honestest statesmen and

brightest names in our annals. He who scorned to save his life by

bending to the will of the son, was not likely to canvas the favour

of the father, by prostituting his pen to the humour of the court. I

take the truth to be, that Sir Thomas wrote his reign of Edward the

Fifth as he wrote his Utopia; to amuse his leisure and exercise his

fancy. He took up a paltry canvas and embroidered it with a flowing

design as his imagination suggested the colours. I should deal more

severely with his respected memory on any other hypothesis. He has

been guilty of such palpable and material falshoods, as, while they

destroy his credit as an historian, would reproach his veracity as a

man, if we could impute them to premeditated perversion of truth,

and not to youthful levity and inaccuracy. Standing as they do, the

sole groundwork of that reign's history, I am authorized to

pronounce the work, invention and romance.

Polidore Virgil, a foreigner, and author of a light Latin history,

was here during the reigns of Henry the Seventh and Eighth. I may

quote him now-and-then, and the Chronicle of Croyland; but neither

furnish us with much light.

There was another writer in that age of far greater authority, whose

negligent simplicity and veracity are unquestionable; who had great

opportunities of knowing our story, and whose testimony is

corroborated by our records: I mean Philip de Comines. He and Buck

agree with one another, and with the rolls of parliament; Sir Thomas

More with none of them.

Buck, so long exploded as a lover of paradoxes, and as an advocate

for a monster, gains new credit the deeper this dark scene is

fathomed. Undoubtedly Buck has gone too far; nor are his style or

method to be admired. With every intention of vindicating Richard,

he does but authenticate his crimes, by searching in other story for

parallel instances of what he calls policy.

No doubt politicians will acquit Richard, if confession of his

crimes be pleaded in defence of them. Policy will justify his taking

off opponents. Policy will maintain him in removing those who would

have barred his obtaining the crown, whether he thought he had a

right to it, or was determined to obtain it. Morality, especially in

the latter case, cannot take his part. I shall speak more to this

immediately. Kapin conceived doubts; but instead of pursuing them,

wandered after judgments; and they will lead a man where-ever he has

a mind to be led. Carte, with more manly shrewdness, has sifted many

parts of Richard's story, and guessed happily. My part has less

penetration; but the parliamentary history, the comparison of dates,

and the authentic monument lately come to light, and from which I

shall give extracts, have convinced me, that, if Buck is too

favourable, all our other historians are blind guides, and have not

made out a twentieth part of their assertions.

The story of Edward the Fifth is thus related by Sir Thomas More,

and copied from him by all our historians.

When the king his father died, the prince kept his court at Ludlow,

under the tuition of his maternal uncle Anthony earl Rivers. Richard

duke of Gloucester was in the north, returning from his successful

expedition against the Scots. The queen wrote instantly to her

brother to bring up the young king to London, with a train of two

thousand horse: a fact allowed by historians, and which, whether a

prudent caution or not, was the first overt-act of the new reign;

and likely to strike, as it did strike, the duke of Gloucester and

the antient nobility with a jealousy, that the queen intended to

exclude them from the administration, and to govern in concert with

her own family. It is not improper to observe that no precedent

authorized her to assume such power. Joan, princess dowager of

Wales, and widow of the Black Prince, had no share in the government

during the minority of her son Richard the Second. Catherine of

Valois, widow of Henry the Fifth Was alike excluded from the

regency, though her son was but a year old. And if Isabella governed

on the deposition of Edward the Second, it was by an usurped power,

by the same power that had contributed to dethrone her husband; a

power sanctified by no title, and confirmed by no act of

parliament.(4) The first step to a female regency(5) enacted,

though it never took place, was many years afterwards, in the reign

of Henry the Eighth.

(4) Twelve guardians were appointed by parliament, and the earl of

Lancaster was entrusted with the care of the king's person. The

latter, being excluded from exercising his charge by the queen and

Mortimer, gave that as a reason for not obeying a summons to

parliament. Vide Parliam. Hist. vol. i. p. 208. 215.

(5) Vide the act of succession in Parliam. Hist. vol. III. p. 127.

Edward, on his death-bed, had patched up a reconciliation between

his wife's kindred and the great lords of the court; particularly

between the Marquis Dorset, the Queen's son, and the lord

chamberlain Hastings. Yet whether the disgusted lords had only

seemed to yield, to satisfy the dying king, or whether the steps

taken by the queen gave them new cause of umbrage it appears that

the duke of Buckingham, was the first to communicate his suspicions

to Gloucester, and to dedicate himself to his service. Lord Hastings

was scarce less forward to join in like measures, and all three, it

is pretended, were so alert, that they contrived to have it

insinuated to the queen, that it would give much offence if the

young king should be brought to London with so great a force as she

had ordered; on which suggestions she wrote to Lord Rivers to

countermand her first directions.

It is difficult not to suspect, that our historians have imagined

more plotting in this transaction than could easily be compassed in

so short a period, and in an age when no communication could be

carried on but by special messengers, in bad roads, and with no

relays of post-horses.

Edward the Fourth died April 9th, and his son made his entrance into

London May 4th.(6) It is not probable, that the queen communicated her

directions for bringing up her son with an armed force to the lords

of the council, and her newly reconciled enemies. But she might be

betrayed. Still it required some time for Buckingham to send his

servant Percival (though Sir Thomas More vaunts his expedition) to

York, where the Duke of Gloucester then lay;(7) for Percival's

return (it must be observed too that the Duke of Buckingham was in

Wales, consequently did not learn the queen's orders on the spot,

but either received the account from London, or learnt it from

Ludlow); for the two dukes to send instructions to their

confederates in London; for the impression to be made on the queen,

and for her dispatching her counter-orders; for Percival to post

back and meet Gloucester at Nottingham, and for returning thence and

bringing his master Buckingham to meet Richard at Northampton, at

the very time of the king's arrival there. All this might happen,

undoubtedly; and yet who will believe, that such mysterious and

rapid negociations came to the knowledge of Sir Thomas More

twenty-five years afterwards, when, as it will appear, he knew

nothing of very material and public facts that happened at the same

period?

(6) Fabian.

(7) It should be remarked too, that the duke of Gloucester is

positively said to be celebrating his brother's obsequies there. It

not only strikes off part of the term by allowing the necessary time

for the news of king Edward's death to reach York, and for the

preparation to be made there to solemnize a funeral for him; but

this very circumstance takes off from the probability of Richard

having as yet laid any plan for dispossessing his nephew. Would he

have loitered at York at such a crisis, if he had intended to step

into the throne?

But whether the circumstances are true, or whether artfully

imagined, it is certain that the king, with a small force, arrived

at Northampton, and thence proceeded to Stony Stratford. Earl Rivers

remained at Northampton, where he was cajoled by the two dukes till

the time of rest, when the gates of the inn were suddenly locked,

and the earl made prisoner. Early in the morning the two dukes

hastened to Stony Stratford, where, in the king's presence, they

picked a quarrel with his other half-brother, the lord Richard Grey,

accusing him, the marquis Dorset, and their uncle Rivers, of

ambitious and hostile designs, to which ends the marquis had entered

the Tower, taken treasure thence, and sent a force to sea.

"These things," says Sir Thomas, "the dukes knew, were done for good

and necessary purposes, and by appointment of the council; but

somewhat they must say," &c. As Sir Thomas has not been pleased to

specify those purposes, and as in those times at least privy

counsellors were exceedingly complaisant to the ruling powers, he

must allow us to doubt whether the purposes of the queen's relations

were quite so innocent as he would make us believe; and whether the

princes of the blood and the antient nobility had not some reasons

to be jealous that the queen was usurping more power than the laws

had given her. The catastrophe of her whole family so truly deserves

commiseration, that we are apt to shut our eyes to all her weakness

and ill-judged policy; and yet at every step we find how much she

contributed to draw ruin on their heads and her own, by the

confession even of her apologists. The Duke of Gloucester was the

first prince of the blood, the constitution pointed him out as

regent; no will, no disposition of the late king was even alleged to

bar his pretensions; he had served the state with bravery, success,

and fidelity; and the queen herself, who had been insulted by

Clarence, had had no cause to complain of Gloucester. Yet all her

conduct intimated designs of governing by force in the name of her

son.(8) If these facts are impartially stated, and grounded on the

confession of those who inveigh most bitterly against Richard's

memory, let us allow that at least thus far he acted as most princes

would have done in his situation, in a lawless and barbarous age,

and rather instigated by others, than from any before-conceived

ambition and system. If the journeys of Percival are true,

Buckingham was the devil that tempted Richard; and if Richard still

wanted instigation, then it must follow, that he had not murdered

Henry the Sixth, his son, and Clarence, to pave his own way to the

crown. If this fine story of Buckingham and Percival is not true,

what becomes of Sir Thomas More's credit, on which the whole fabric

leans?

Lord Richard, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir Richard Hawte, were

arrested, and with Lord Rivers sent prisoners to Pomfret, while the

dukes conducted the king by easy stages to London.

The queen, hearing what had happened took sanctuary at Westminster,

with her other son the duke of York, and the princesses her

daughters. Rotheram, archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor,

repaired to her with the great seal, and endeavoured to comfort her

dismay with the friendly message he had received from Hastings, who

was with the confederate lords on the road. "A woe worth him!" quoth

the queen, "for it is he that goeth about to destroy me and my

blood!" Not a word is said of her suspecting the duke of Gloucester.

The archbishop seems to have been the first who entertained any

suspicion; and yet, if all that our historian says of him is true,

Rotheram was far from being a shrewd man: witness the indiscreet

answer which he is said to have made on this occasion. "Madam,"

quoth he, "be of good comfort, and assure you, if they crown any

other king than your son whom they now have we shall on the morrow

crown his brother, whom you have here with you." Did the silly

prelate think that it would be much consolation to a mother, whose

eldest son might be murthered, that her younger son would be crowned

in prison, or was she to be satisfied with seeing one son entitled

to the crown, and the other enjoying it nominally?

He then delivered the seal to the queen, and as lightly sent for it

back immediately after.

The dukes continued their march, declaring they were bringing the

king to his coronation, Hastings, who seems to have preceded them,

endeavoured to pacify the apprehensions which had been raised in the

people, acquainting them that the arrested lords had been imprisoned

for plotting against the dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham. As both

those princes were of the blood royal,(9) this accusation was not

ill founded, it having evidently been the intention, as I have

shewn, to bar them from any share in the administration, to which,

by the custom of the realm, they were intitled. So much depends on

this foundation, that I shall be excused from enforcing it. The

queen's party were the aggressors; and though that alone would not

justify all the following excesses, yet we must not judge of those

times by the present. Neither the crown nor the great men were

restrained by sober established forms and proceedings as they are at

present; and from the death of Edward the Third, force alone had

dictated. Henry the Fourth had stepped into the throne contrary to

all justice. A title so defective had opened a door to attempts as

violent; and the various innovations introduced in the latter years

of Henry the Sixth had annihilated all ideas of order. Richard duke

of York had been declared successor to the crown during the life of

Henry and of his son prince Edward, and, as appears by the

Parliamentary History, though not noticed by our careless historians

was even appointed prince of Wales. The duke of Clarence had

received much such another declaration in his favour during the

short restoration of Henry. What temptations were these precedents

to an affronted prince! We shall see soon what encouragement they

gave him to examine closely into his nephew's pretensions; and how

imprudent it was in the queen to provoke Gloucester, when her very

existence as queen was liable to strong objections. Nor ought the

subsequent executions of Lord Rivers, Lord Richard Grey, and of Lord

Hastings himself, to be considered in so very strong a light, as

they would appear in, if acted in modern times. During the wars of

York and Lancaster, no forms of trial had been observed. Not only

peers taken in battle had been put to death without process; but

whoever, though not in arms, was made prisoner by the victorious

party, underwent the same fate; as was the case of Tiptoft earl of

Worcester, who had fled and was taken in disguise. Trials had never

been used with any degree of strictness, as at present; and though

Richard was pursued and killed as an usurper, the Solomon that

succeeded him, was not a jot less a tyrant. Henry the Eighth was

still less of a temper to give greater latitude to the laws. In

fact, little ceremony or judicial proceeding was observed on trials,

till the reign of Elizabeth, who, though decried of late for her

despotism, in order to give some shadow of countenance to the

tyranny of the Stuarts, was the first of our princes, under whom any

gravity or equity was allowed in cases of treason. To judge

impartially therefore, we ought to recall the temper and manners of

the times we read of. It is shocking to eat our enemies: but it is

not so shocking in an Iroquois, as it would be in the king of

Prussia. And this is all I contend for, that the crimes of Richard,

which he really committed, at least which we have reason to believe

he committed, were more the crimes of the age than of the man; and

except these executions of Rivers, Grey, and Hastings, I defy any

body to prove one other of those charged to his account, from any

good authority.

(8) Grafton says, "and in effect every one as he was neerest of

kinne unto the queene, so was he planted nere about the prince,"

p. 761; and again, p. 762, "the duke of Gloucester understanding

that the lordes, which were about the king, entended to bring him up

to his coronation, accompanied with such power of their friendes,

that it should be hard for him, to bring his purpose to passe,

without gatherying and assemble of people, and in maner of open

war," &c. in the same place it appears, that the argument used to

dissuade the queen from employing force, was, that it would be a

breach of the accommodation made by the late king between her

relations and the great lords; and so undoubtedly it was; and though

they are accused of violating the peace, it is plain that the

queen's insincerity had been at least equal to theirs, and that the

infringement of the reconciliation commenced on her side.

(9) Henry duke of Buckingham was the immediate descendant and heir

of Thomas of Woodstock duke of Gloucester, the youngest son of

Edward the Third, as will appear by this table:

Thomas duke of Gloucester

Anne sole daughter and heiress.

--Edmund earl of Stafford.

Humphrey duke of Bucks.

Historic Doubts on the Life and Reign of King Richard the Third · 第 8 / 12 题