SHAKSPEARE. -- THE AUTHOR'S RELUCTANCE TO TEST THE SCENES OF THE
POET'S DRAMAS BY MATTERS OF FACT. -- NECESSITY OF SO DOING. -- HOTSPUR
IN SHAKSPEARE THE FIRST TO BEAR EVIDENCE TO HENRY'S RECKLESS
PROFLIGACY. -- THE HOTSPUR OF HISTORY THE FIRST WHO TESTIFIES TO HIS
CHARACTER FOR VALOUR, AND MERCY, AND FAITHFULNESS IN HIS DUTIES. --
ANACHRONISMS OF SHAKSPEARE. -- HOTSPUR'S AGE. -- THE CAPTURE OF
MORTIMER. -- BATTLE OF HOMILDON. -- FIELD OF SHREWSBURY. -- ARCHBISHOP
SCROPE'S DEATH.
The Author has already intimated in his Preface the reluctance with
which he undertook to examine the descriptions of the Prince of
dramatic poets with a direct reference to the test of historical
truth; and he cannot enter upon that inquiry in this place without
repeating his regret, nor without alleging some of the reasons which
seem to make the investigation an imperative duty in these Memoirs.
In our endeavours to ascertain the real character and conduct of Henry
V, it is not enough that we close the volume of Shakspeare's dramas,
determining to allow it no weight in the scale of evidence. If
nothing more be done, Shakspeare's representations will have (p. 338)
weight, despite of our resolution. Were Shakspeare any ordinary
writer, or were the parts of his remains which bear on our subject
few, unimportant, and uninteresting, the biographer, without
endangering the truth, might lay him aside with a passing caution
against admitting for evidence the poet's views of facts and
character. But the large majority of readers in England, who know
anything of those times, have formed their estimate of Henry from the
scenic descriptions of Shakspeare, or from modern historians who have
been indebted for their information to no earlier or more authentic
source than his plays. Even writers of a higher character, and to whom
the English student is much indebted, would tempt us to rest satisfied
with the general inferences to be drawn from the scenes of Shakspeare,
though they willingly allow that much of the detail was the fruit only
of his fertile imagination. A modern author[313] opens his chapter on
the reign of Henry V. with a passage, a counterpart to which we find
expressed, or at least conveyed by implication, in many other writers,
to whose views, however, the searcher after truth and fact cannot
possibly accede. "With the traditionary irregularities of the youth of
Henry V. we are early familiarized by the magical pen of Shakspeare,
never more fascinating than in portraying the associates and frolics
of this illustrious Prince. But the personifications of the poet (p. 339)
must not be expected to be found in the chroniclers who have annalised
this reign."--"The general facts of his irregularities, and their
amendment, have never been forgotten; but no historical Hogarth has
painted the individual adventures of the princely rake."
[Footnote 313: Mr. Turner.]
It is not because we would palliate Henry's vices, if such there be on
record, or disguise his follies, or wish his irregularities to be
forgotten in the vivid recollections of his conquests, that we would
try "our immortal bard" by the test of rigid fact. We do so, because
he is the authority on which the estimate of Henry's character, as
generally entertained, is mainly founded. Mr. Southey,[314] indeed, is
speaking only of his own boyhood when he says, "I had learned all I
knew of English history from Shakspeare." But very many pass through
life without laying aside or correcting those impressions which they
caught at the first opening of their minds; and never have any other
knowledge of the times of which his dramas speak, than what they have
learned from his representations. The great Duke of Marlborough is
known to have confessed that all his acquaintance with English history
was derived from Shakspeare: whilst not unfrequently persons of
literary pursuits, who have studied our histories for themselves, are
to the last under the practical influence of their earliest
associations: unknown to their own minds the poet is still their (p. 340)
instructor and guide. And this influence Shakspeare exercises
over the historical literature of his country, though he was born more
than one hundred and sixty years after the historical date of that
scene in which he first speaks of the "royal rake's" strayings and
unthriftiness; and though many new sources, not of vague tradition,
but of original and undoubted record, which were closed to him, have
been opened to students of the present day. It has indeed been alleged
that he might have had means of information no longer available by us;
that manuscripts are forgotten, or lost, which bore testimony to
Henry's career of wantonness. But surely such a suggestion only
renders it still more imperative to examine with strict and exact
scrutiny into the poet's descriptions. If these are at all countenanced
by a coincidence with ascertained historical facts, we must admit them
as evidence, secondary indeed, but still the best within our reach.
But if they prove to be wholly untenable when tested by facts, and
irreconcileable with what history places beyond doubt, we have solid
grounds for rejecting them as legitimate testimonies. We must consider
them either as the fascinating but aëry visions of a poet who lived
after the intervention of more than a century and a half, or as
inferences built by him on documents false and misleading.
[Footnote 314: Preface to his Poetical Works.]
It may be said that the poet, in his delineation of the manners (p. 341)
of the time, and in his vivid representations of the sallies and
excesses of a prince notorious for his wildness and profligate habits,
must not be shackled by the rigid and cold bands of historical verity,
any more than we would require of him, in his description of a battle,
the accuracy of a general's bulletin. But if a master poet should so
describe the battle as to involve on the part of the commander the
absence of military skill, and of clear conceptions of a soldier's
duty, or ignorance of the enemy's position and strength, and of his
own resources, or a suspicion of faintheartedness and ungallant
bearing, truth would require us to analyse the description, and either
to restore the fair fame of the commander, or to be convinced that he
had justly lost his military character. On this principle we must
refer Shakspeare's representations to a more unbending standard than a
poet's fantasy.
The first occasion on which reference is found to the habits and
character of Henry, occurs in the tragedy of Richard II, act v. scene
3, in which his father is represented as making inquiries, of "Percy
and other lords," in such terms as these:
"Can no man tell of my _unthrifty_ son?
'Tis full THREE MONTHS since I did see him last:
If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
I would to Heaven, my lords, he might be found!
Inquire at London 'mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose companions;
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, (p. 342)
And beat our watch, and rob our passengers;
While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour to support
So dissolute a crew."
To this inquiry PERCY is made to answer,
"My lord! some two days since I saw the Prince,
And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford."
_Bolinbroke._--"And what said the gallant?"
_Percy._--"His answer was--he would unto the stews,
And from the common'st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour; and, with that,
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger."
_Bolinbroke._--"As dissolute as desperate: yet, through both,
I see some sparkles of a better hope,
Which elder days may happily bring forth."
To understand what degree of reliance should be placed upon this
passage as a channel of biographical information, it is only necessary
to recal to mind two points established beyond doubt from history:
first, that the Prince was then not twelve years and a half old; and
secondly, that the circumstance, previously to which this lamentation
must be fixed, took place NOT THREE MONTHS after the coronation,
subsequently to which the King created this his "unthrifty son," "this
gallant, dissolute as desperate," Prince of Wales.[315] The scene is
placed by Shakspeare at Windsor; and the conversation between (p. 343)
Henry IV. inquiring about his son, and Percy, so unkindly fanning his
suspicions, is ended abruptly by the breathless haste of Lord
Albemarle, who breaks in upon the court to denounce the conspiracy
against the King's life. This could not have been later than January
4, 1400; for on that day the conspirators entered Windsor, after Henry
IV, having been apprised of their plot, had left that place for
London. The coronation was celebrated on the 13th of the preceding
October, and the Prince of Wales was born August 9, 1387. The whole
year before his father's coronation he was in the safe-keeping of
Richard II, through some months of it in Ireland; and, on Richard's
return to England, he was left a prisoner in Trym Castle. How many
days before the coronation he was brought from Ireland to his father,
does not appear; probably messengers were sent for him immediately
after Richard fell into the hands of Henry IV. The certainty is, that
"_full three months_ could not have passed" since they last saw (p. 344)
each other; the strong probability is, that both father and son
had kept the feast of Christmas together at Windsor. That a boy of not
twelve years and a half old, just returned from a year's safe-keeping
in the hand of his father's enemy and whom his father, not three
months before, had created Prince of Wales with all the honours and
expressions of regard ever shown on similar occasions, should have
been the leader and supporter of a dissolute crew of unrestrained
loose companions, the frequenter of those sinks of sin and profligacy
which then disgraced the metropolis (as they do now), is an
improbability so gross, that nothing but the excellence of
Shakspeare's pen could have rendered an exposure of it necessary.[316]
[Footnote 315: Reference is here made to the
creation of Henry as Prince of Wales, not in
anywise for the purpose of insinuating that he
would not have been raised to that honour by his
father, had he been the "desperate gallant" which
the poet delineates, but solely to show that the
King's lamentation cannot be historically correct.
The poet, having fastened on the general tradition
as to Henry's wildness, gives rein to his fancy,
and would fain carry his readers along with him in
the belief that Henry had absented himself for full
three months from his paternal roof, and revelled
in abandoned profligacy; whilst the facts with
which the poet has connected it, fix the
outbreaking of the Prince to a time when the real
Henry was not twelve years and a half old.
Shakspeare's poetry is not inconsistent with
itself, but it is with historical verity.]
[Footnote 316: There are, however, other
circumstances deserving our attention, which took
place, some undoubtedly, and others most probably,
within the three months preceding this very time.
In the first place, the Commons, who had at the
coronation sworn the same fealty to the Prince as
to the King, on the 3rd of November petition that
the creation of Henry as Prince of Wales might be
entered on the record of Parliament; and on the
same day they pray the King that the Prince might
not pass forth from this realm, (in consequence of
the movements of the Scots,) "forasmuch as he is of
tender age." In the course of that same month of
November 1399, a negociation was set on foot to
bring about the espousals for a future union of the
Prince with one of the daughters of the King of
France. And about the same time (probably within a
month of the scene of Shakspeare which we are
examining,) the Prince makes a direct appeal to the
council to fulfil the expressed wishes of his royal
father as to his establishment, seeing that he was
destitute of a suitable house and furniture; whilst
not a hint occurs in allusion to any extravagance,
or folly, or precocious dissipation, in any single
document of the time.]
The second introduction of the same subject occurs in the scene (p. 345)
in the court of London, the very day after the news arrived of
Mortimer being taken by Owyn Glyndowr.
_Westmoreland._--"But _yesternight_; when all athwart there came
A post from Wales loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was that the noble Mortimer,
Leading the Herefordshire men to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glyndower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken."
The anachronism of Shakspeare, in making the two reports, of
Mortimer's capture and of the battle of Homildon, reach London on the
same day, though there was an interval of more than three months
between them, only tends to show that we must not look to him as a
channel of historical accuracy. How utterly inappropriate is the
desponding lamentation of Henry IV, the bare reference to actual dates
is alone needed to show.
_Westmoreland._--"Faith! 'tis a conquest for a prince to boast of."
_K. Henry._--"Yea: there thou makest me sad, and makest me sin
In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son;
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,
See riot and dishonour stain the brow
Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved (p. 346)
That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And called mine Percy, his Plantagenet;
Then I would have his Harry, and he mine!
But let him from my thoughts."
In this glowing page of Shakspeare is preserved one of those
exquisite, fascinating illusions which are scattered up and down
throughout his never-dying remains, and which, arresting us
everywhere, hold the willing imagination spell-bound, till, after
reflection, Truth rises upon the mind, and with one gleam of her soft
but omnipotent light varies the charm, and contrasts the satisfaction
of reality with the pleasures of fiction. The poet's imagery paints to
our mind's eye Harry Hotspur and Harry of Monmouth lying each in his
"cradle-clothes" on some one and the same night, when the powers of
Fairy-land might have exchanged the boys, and called Percy,
Plantagenet. To effect such a change, however, of the first-born sons
of Northumberland and Bolinbroke, an extent of power and skill must
have been in requisition far beyond what their warmest advocates are
wont to assign to those "night-tripping" personages. Hotspur was at
least one-and-twenty years old when Henry of Monmouth "lay in his
cradle-clothes." The pencil also of the painter has lent its aid to
confirm and propagate the same delusion as to the relative ages of
these two warriors. In the representation (for example) of the
Battle-field of Shrewsbury, Hotspur and Henry, the heroes in the (p. 347)
fore-ground, are models of two gallant youths, equal in age,
struggling for the mastery: and in the chamber-scene, whilst Henry is
represented in all the freshness of a beardless youth, his father
shows the worn-out veteran; his brow and cheeks deeply furrowed, his
whole frame borne down towards the grave by length of days as much as
by infirmities, though when he died his age did not exceed his
forty-seventh year.
The time of Hotspur's birth has generally been considered matter only
for conjecture; but whether we draw our inferences from undisputed
facts, and the clearest deductions of sound argument, or rest only on
the direct evidence now for the first time, it is presumed, brought
forward, we cannot regard Hotspur at the very lowest calculation as a
single year younger than Henry of Monmouth's father, the very
Bolinbroke whom the poet makes to utter such a lamentation and such a
wish. Bolinbroke's birth-day cannot be assigned (as we have seen) to
an earlier date than April 6, 1366; and the Annals of the Peerage[317]
refer Hotspur's birth to May 20, 1364.[318] The Author, however, is
disposed to think that the Annals have antedated his birth by more
than a year at least. In the Scrope and Grosvenor (p. 348)
controversy,[319] the record of which supplied us with the ages of
Glyndowr and his brother, the commissioners examined both Hotspur and
his father. The father, usually called the "aged Earl," gave his
testimony on the 19th November 1386, as "the Earl of Northumberland,
of the age of forty-five years, having borne arms thirty years."
Hotspur, who was examined on the 30th of the preceding October, that
is, in the year before Henry of Monmouth was born, gave his testimony
as "Sir Henry Percy, of the age of twenty years." Hotspur must,
therefore, have been born between the end of October 1365 and the end
of October 1366. And if the annalists are right in fixing upon the day
of the year on which he was born, his birth-day was in the month next
following the birth-day of Bolinbroke. On the most probable
calculation, he might have been five months older than Bolinbroke; he
could not have been seven months younger. It is a curious and
interesting circumstance, that, instead of specifying the number of
years through which he had borne arms, Hotspur referred the
commissioners to the first occasion of his having seen and shared the
real service of battle: "First armed when the castle of (p. 349)
Berwick was taken by the Scots, and when the rescue was made." The
surprise of Berwick by the Scots took place on the Thursday before St.
Andrew's day in the year 1378, (which fell on November 25,) so that
Hotspur passed his noviciate in the field of battle when he was only
just past his twelfth year, and almost nine years before Henry of
Monmouth was born. In 1388, when Henry was only one year old, Hotspur
was taken prisoner by the Scots. His eldest son, whom Henry with so
much generosity restored to his honours and estates, was born February
3, 1393.[320]
[Footnote 317: See Collins' Peerage by Brydges,
vol. ii. p. 267.]
[Footnote 318: The same authorities record that he
was knighted at the coronation of Richard II, July
16, 1377.]
[Footnote 319: "Le Count de Northumberland del age
de XLV ans; armez de XXX ans."
"Mons. Henr' de Percy del age de vynt ans, armez
premierement, quant la chastell de Berwick etait
pris par les Escoces, et quant le rescous fuist
fait."]
[Footnote 320: We cannot read the document on which
these observations are founded without being
reminded at how early an age in those times the
youth of our country were expected to take up arms,
and follow some experienced captain, or even
themselves lead their warriors to the field. When
Hotspur accompanied his father to the rescue of
Berwick, he was only in his thirteenth year; his
father had borne arms from the age of fifteen; and
Henry of Monmouth (accompanied we know by a tutor
or guardian, as probably Hotspur was at Berwick)
was certainly in Wales, "chastising the rebels,"
soon after he had completed his thirteenth year.
Another reflection, forced upon the mind by a
familiar acquaintance with the political and the
domestic history of those times, is on the very low
average of human life at that period of the English
monarchy. Few reached what is now called old age;
and persons are spoken of as old, who would now be
scarcely considered to have passed the meridian of
life. It would form a subject of an interesting,
and perhaps a very useful inquiry, were a
philosophical antiquary (who would found his
conclusions on a wide induction of facts, and not
seek for evidence in support of any previously
adopted theory,) to trace the existence, and
operation, and extent of those causes, physical and
moral, which exercise doubtless important
influences over human life, and, under Providence,
contract or lengthen the number of our days here.
Unquestionably, such an investigator would
immediately find many changes adopted in the
present day conducive to longevity, in the
structure of our habitations, the nature of our
clothing, our habits of cleanliness, our food,
comparative moderation in the use of inebriating
liquors, with many other causes of health now
believed to exist among us. To two causes of the
average shortness of life, in operation through
that range of years to which these Memoirs chiefly
refer, the Author's mind has been especially drawn
in the course of his researches: one of a political
character,--in itself far more obvious, and chiefly
affecting men; the other arising from habits of
domestic life with regard to one of our
institutions of all the most universally
comprehensive,--a cause chiefly, but far from
exclusively, affecting the life of females. The
first cause, awful and appalling, is seen in the
precarious tenure of human life, during the
violence of those political struggles which deluged
the whole land with blood. Those families seem to
have been rare exceptions, of which no member
forfeited his life on the scaffold or in the field;
those houses were few which the scourge of civil or
foreign wars passed over without leaving one dead.
The second cause is traced to the very early age at
which marriages were then solemnized. The day of
Nature's trial came before the constitution had
gained strength for the struggle, and an awful
proportion of females was thus prematurely hurried
to the grave; whilst the offspring also shared in
the weakness of the parent. Comparatively a small
minority sunk by gradual and calm decay; in the
case of very few could the comparison of Job's
reprover be applied with truth, "Thou shalt come to
the grave in full age, as a shock of corn cometh in
his season."]
Though these facts prove that Shakspeare has spread through the (p. 350)
world a most erroneous opinion of the relative ages and circumstances
of Bolinbroke, Hotspur, and Henry of Monmouth,--a circumstance, (p. 351)
indeed, in itself of no great importance,--the question on which we
are engaged will be more immediately and strongly affected if it can
be shown precisely, that at the very time when (according to the
poet's representation) Henry IV. uttered this lamentation, expressive
of deep present sorrow at the reckless misdoings of his son, and of
anticipations of worse, that very son was doing his duty valiantly and
mercifully in Wales.
On the lowest calculation, a full month before Mortimer's capture, the
young royal warrior had scoured the whole country of Glyndwrdy in
person, and had burnt two of Owyn's mansions; whilst the strong
probability is, that he had headed his troops on that expedition more
than a year before.
It is very remarkable (though Shakspeare doubtless never became
acquainted with the circumstance) that the identical Percy whom he
makes Henry IV. desire to have been his son, instead of his own Henry,
bears ample testimony, at least a full year previously, to the valour
and kind-heartedness of him on whose brow the poet makes his father
lament "the stain of riot and dishonour."
Sir Edmund Mortimer was taken by Glyndowr at Melienydd in Radnor, June
12th, 1402; and, as early as the 3rd of May 1401, Percy wrote from
Caernarvon to the council that North Wales was obedient to the law,
except the rebels of Conway and Rees Castles, who were in the
mountains, whom he expresses his expectation that the Prince of (p. 352)
Wales would subdue. "These will be right well chastened," said he,
"if God please, by the force and governance which my lord the Prince
_has_ sent against them, as well of his council as of his retinue." In
the same letter Hotspur informs the King's council that the commons of
the counties of Caernarvon and Merioneth (who had come before him in
the sessions which he was then holding as Chief Justice of North
Wales) had humbly expressed their thanks to the Prince for the great
pains of his kind good-will in endeavouring to obtain their
pardon."[321] Henry Prince of Wales, whom the poet makes his father
thus to disparage at the mere mention of Henry Percy's victory, would
lose nothing in point of prowess, and generosity, and high-minded
bearing, at this very early period of his youth, by a comparison
either with Percy himself, or with any other of his contemporaries,
whose names are recorded in history.
[Footnote 321: See these facts stated historically
in previous chapters of this volume.]
The next passage of our historical dramatist which requires to be
examined, occurs in that very affecting interview between Henry and
his father on the news of Percy's rebellion, and the resolution
declared to take the field at Shrewsbury.[322]
"I know not whether God will have it so,
For some displeasing service I have done,
That, in his secret, doom out of my blood (p. 353)
He breeds revengement and a scourge for me.
But thou dost, in thy passages of life,
Make me believe that thou art only marked
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven,
To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,
Could such inordinate and low desires,
Such barren, base, such lewd, such mean attempts,
Such barren pleasures, rude society,[323]
As thou art matched withal and grafted to,
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?
Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost, (p. 354)
Which by thy younger brother is supplied;
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the court, and princes of my blood."
[Footnote 322: I Hen. IV. act iii. scene 1.]
[Footnote 323: It is curious to contrast this
description of his habits and pursuits, written by
the Prince of tragedians a century and a half after
Henry's death, with the advice represented to have
been given by an old man to a young aspiring poet
during his very lifetime. The Author is conscious
of the tautology of which he is guilty in again
recommending the reader not to pass over unread the
extracts in the Appendix from Occleve and Lydgate.
"Write to him a goodly tale or two,
On which he may disport him at night.
His high prudence hath insight very
To judge if it be well made or nay.
Write him nothing that soweneth to vice.
Look if find thou canst any treatise
Grounded on his estate's wholesomeness."--Occleve.
"Because he hathe joy and great dainty
To _read in books of antiquity_,
To find only _virtue to sow_,
By example of them; and also to eschew
The _cursed vice of sloth and idleness_:
So he enjoyed in _virtuous_ business,
In all that _longeth to manhood_
He _busyeth_ ever."--Lydgate.]
The battle of Shrewsbury was fought July 21, 1403. The tragedian
represents Henry the Prince as at this period in the full career of
his unbridled extravagances; his father bewailing his sad degeneracy,
himself pleading nothing in excuse, praying for pardon, and promising
amendment. It must appear passing strange to those who have drawn
their estimate of those years of Prince Henry's youth from Shakspeare,
to find the real truth to be this. Not only was he not then in London
the profligate debauchee, the reckless madcap, the creature of "vassal
fear and base inclination," "the nearest and dearest of his father's
foes;" not only was he acting valiantly in defence of his father's
throne; but that very father's own pen is the instrument to bear chief
testimony to his valour and noble merits at that very hour. It is as
though history were designed on set purpose, and by especial
commission, to counteract the bewitching fictions of the poet. Henry
IV. was on his road to assist Hotspur and the Earl of Northumberland,
in utter ignorance of their rebellion. Arrived at Higham Ferrers, he
wrote to his council, informing them that he had received, as well by
his son Henry's own letters, as by the report of his messengers, most
satisfactory accounts of this very dear and well-beloved son the (p. 355)
Prince, which gave him very great pleasure.[324] He then directs
them to send the Prince 1000_l._ to enable him to keep his forces
together. This letter is dated July 10, 1403, just eleven days before
the battle of Shrewsbury. The King heard of Hotspur's rebellion on his
arrival at Burton on Trent, from which place he dates his
proclamation. Henry of Monmouth was appointed Lieutenant of Wales on
the 4th of March 1403; and he was with his men-at-arms and archers
there, discharging the duties of a faithful son and valiant young
warrior, when Hotspur revolted; and he left his charge in Wales, not
to revel in London, but only to join his own to his father's forces,
and fight for their kingdom on the field of Shrewsbury.
[Footnote 324: See these facts stated historically
in former pages of this volume.]
The extraordinary confusion of place and time, pervading the "Second
Part of King Henry IV," is only equalled by the mistaken view which
the writer gives of the character of Henry of Monmouth. News of the
overthrow of Archbishop Scrope is brought to London on the very day on
which Henry IV. sickens and dies; whereas that King was himself in
person in the north, and insisted upon the execution of the
Archbishop, just eight years before. The Archbishop was beheaded on
Whitmonday (June 8) in the year 1405. Henry IV. died March 20, 1413.
And instead of Henry, the Prince, being either at Windsor hunting, or
in London "with Poins and other his continual followers," when (p. 356)
his father was depressed and perplexed by the rebellion in the north,
he was doing his duty well, gallantly, and to the entire satisfaction
of his father. We have a letter, dated Berkhemstead, March 13, 1405,
written by the King to his council, with a copy of his son Henry's
letter announcing the victory over the Welsh rebels at Grosmont in
Monmouthshire, which was won on Wednesday the 11th of that month. The
King writes with great joy and exultation, bidding his council to
convey the glad tidings to the mayor and citizens of London, that
"they (he says) may rejoice with us, and join in praises to our
Creator."
Thus does history prove that, in every instance of Shakspeare's
fascinating representations of Henry of Monmouth's practices, the poet
was guided by his imagination, which, working only on the vague
tradition of a sudden change for the better in the Prince immediately
on his accession, and magnifying that change into something almost
miraculous, has drawn a picture which can never be seen without being
admired for its life, and boldness, and colouring; but which, as an
historical portrait, is not only unlike the original, but misleading
and unjust in essential points of character.
It has been said, and perhaps with truth, to what extent soever we may
believe Shakspeare to have made "Europe ring from side to side" with
the vices and follies, the riots and extravagances, of the (p. 357)
young Prince, yet that he had spread his fame and glory far more
widely, and excited an incomparably greater interest in his character,
than history itself, however full, and however true in recording his
merits, could have done. The admirer therefore of the Prince's
character, who reflects on Shakspeare, is held to be ungrateful to
Henry's best benefactor; and, as far as his influence reaches, tends
to check the interest excited for the hero of his choice. But, whilst
he recalls with grateful reminiscence the enjoyment which he has often
drawn himself freely from the same well-head, the Author, in
attempting to distinguish between truth and fiction, would on no
account damp the ardour with which his countrymen will still derive
pleasure from these scenes of "Nature's child;" and he trusts that,
whilst he has supplied solid and substantial ground for Englishmen
still retaining Henry of Monmouth in their affections, among their
favourite princes and kings, his work has no tendency to close against
a single individual those sources of intellectual delight, which will
be open wide to all, whilst literature itself shall have a place on
earth.