[1] William Catesby was the son of Sir William Catesby of Ashby St. Leger in Northamptonshire, by Philippa, heiress of Sir William Bishopston. He was a learned man, well versed in the laws of his country. On June 30, 1483, he become Chancellor of the Exchequer, and was chosen Speaker of King Richard's Parliament. Lord Rivers had such confidence in his integrity that he nominated him executor of his will. His wife was Margaret, daughter of William Lord Zouch. He made his own will on August 25, 1485, leaving his wife sole executrix and dividing his property among his children. His unjust attainder was afterwards reversed in favour of his son George.
[2] Yet Dr. Lingard tells us that 'Henry was careful not to stain his triumph with blood.' This is a strange assertion, when it is directly followed by the admission that he did stain his triumph with blood. Of all his prisoners,' he continues, 'three only suffered death, the notorious [why notorious?] Catesby and two persons of the name of Brecher, who probably had merited that distinction by their crimes' (iv. p. 260). This is a pure assumption, unwarranted by any evidence whatever. If the word 'loyalty' had been substituted for 'crimes,' Dr. Lingard would have been nearer the truth. All that this historian's praise amounts to is that Henry refrained from committing a massacre, such as he caused to be perpetrated on a subsequent occasion, when Warbeck's followers landed in Kent.
Mr. Gairdner says: 'Whether these executions were just is another question, save that the ministers of a bad king must take the responsibility even of his worst deeds' (p. 311). He evidently sees that Henry's conduct is indefensible; and he has elsewhere admitted that Richard was not a bad King.
The more impartial Hutton says: 'Thus the first regal act performed by Henry was an act of tyranny' (Bosworth, p. 148).
[3] 'For men remember not any King of England before that tyme which used such a furniture of daily soldiers.'—Hall, p. 425.
[4] Gairdner.
[5] 'De jure belli et de jure Lancastriæ.'
[6] Rot. Parl. vi. 289a. The monk of Croyland had a copy, but luckily for him, he was not found out.
[7] Plumpton Correspondence. Letter dated December 13, 1485 (p. 49).
[8] Translation by Mr. Gairdner in his Henry VII. (p. 38).
[9] 11 Henry VII. cap. 1 (1496). It was enacted that no person serving the King and Sovereign Lord of the land for the time being shall be convicted of high treason, nor suffer any forfeiture or imprisonment. In the previous year the usurper, also no doubt from fear of public opinion, had paid 10l. 1s. to James Keyley for King Richard's tomb (Excerp. Hist. p. 105).
[10] Grant to John of Gloucester of an annual rent of 20l. during the King's pleasure, from the revenues of the manor of Kingston Lacey, parcel of the Duchy of Lancaster in the county of Dorset. March 1 1486.—Materials for a History of the Reign of Henry VII. i.
[11] 'About the same time there was a base-born son of King Richard III. made away, having been kept long in prison.'—Buck, p. 105, from Chron. MS. in 4to. apud Dr. Rob. Cotton.
[12] Rymer, xii. p. 265.
[13] A critic, after reading this work, objected that partiality was shown by the fact that while the older writers are blamed for blackening Richard's character in other ways, in order to make the charge of murdering the princes more plausible, precisely the same thing is done with Henry VII. But the other charges against Henry are proved and acknowledged facts. Those against Richard have been disproved. The older writers are justly blamed for inventing calumnies.
[14] Fabyan.
[15] Polydore Virgil. Lord Bacon observes, in his Life of Henry VII., 'which proceeding, being even at that time taxed for rigorous and undue makes it probable there was some greater matter against her, which the King, upon reason of policy, would not publish.' Undoubtedly, there was; she knew too much.
[16] Dr. Lingard (iv. 279 and 286n) and Nicolas (p. lxxviii) bring forward a negotiation with the King of Scots, in November 1487, in which Henry proposed that James III. should marry the Queen Dowager, as a proof that he never deprived her of liberty. If he suspected her, they argue, he would not have given her the opportunity of plotting against him, which her situation as Queen of Scotland would have afforded her. Although Henry may have momentarily entertained the idea of getting rid of a woman who knew too much by this expatriation, he soon changed his mind. She was safer in his power. The negotiations were broken off, and James was killed in the following year.
[17] She was present when her daughter gave audience to the French Ambassador in November 1489 (Leland Coll. iv. 249). Henry allowed her a pension of 400l. a year from February 19, 1490. Her will, dated April 10, 1492, is witnessed by the Abbot of Bermondsey. She here confirms the fact of the seizure of her property by her son-in-law. Her words are decisive on that point. 'Whereas I have no worldly goods.' Sir H. Nicolas tried to account for this by suggesting that she only had a life interest in her income. But this will not explain so sweeping a statement as that she had no worldly goods at all (p. lxxx).
Mr. Gairdner says: 'Henry VII. found it advisable to shut up his mother-in-law in a monastery, and had not the slightest scruple in taking her property away from her' (Richard III. p. 88).
[18] Letters Patent, March 4, 1486.
[19] Gairdner's Henry VII.
[20] 'The King's manner of showing things by pieces and side lights hath so muffled it that it hath left it almost a mystery to this day.'—Lord Bacon.
[21] i. 501.
[22] He was made a Knight Banneret at the taking of Berwick, in 1482.
[23] They were Sir William Courtenay, one Welborne, and Tyrrel's son, who were pardoned; Sir Walter Tyrrel and Sir John Wyndham beheaded; a Ship-master hanged at Tyburn, a Poursuivant named Curson, and a Yeoman named Matthew Jones executed at Guisnes; all on suspicion of having aided the Earl of Suffolk to escape.
[24] In Rennet's England, i. p. 552. Mr. Gairdner, referring to this note by Strype, says: 'I own I cannot find his authority.'—Richard III. p. 164.
[25] Harl. MS. 433, fol. 55.
[26] Harl. MS. 433, fol. 78 and 187.
[27] Ibid. 433, fol. 118.
[28] v. 577.
[29] The Earl of Oxford was appointed Constable of the Tower for life, on September 22, 1485. We may hope that Oxford, who did not reside, had no guilty knowledge.
[30] Memorials of Henry VII. i. pp. 41, 95.
[31] Memorials of Henry VII. i. p. 384.
[32] Was this Morton? Buck had heard so.
[33] Memorials of Henry VII. ii. p. 251.
[34] Ibid. i. p. 460.
[35] Sandford, v. p. 404.
[36] 'The latter part of the tale, which declares their interment by the priest and their removal by Richard's order, was evidently fabricated by Henry, to prevent the hazard of a search.'—Hutton's Bosworth, p. 169.
[37] Memorials of Henry VII. i. p. 486.
[38] Lord Welles was a half brother, on the mother's side, of Henry's mother.
[39] Anne was eleven. In due time she was married to the son of the Earl of Surrey. Katherine was only seven. When she was twenty she became the wife of the Lancastrian Earl of Devonshire. Bridget, the youngest, was five. She was immured in a nunnery at Dartford, as soon as she was old enough.
[40] Memorials of Henry VII. i. p. 617.
[41] As late as 1488 there is a grant of five marks, at Easter, 'by way of reward,' to William Slater. If this was the jailer, he received hush money for two years after the perpetration of the murders. He is not heard of again. Memorials of Henry VII. ('Writs under the Privy Seal. Easter Term 3 Hen. VII.'), ii. p. 298.
[42] Memorials of Henry VII. ii. p. 148.
[43] This appears from general pardons having been granted to the former Constable, to the Chaplain, and to twenty-four soldiers of the garrison of Guisnes on the same date, July 16. No doubt these pardons were on the occasion of the appointment of a new Constable, and the return of part of the garrison to England.
[44] Memorials of Henry VII. ii. pp. 188, 251.
[45] This is an ugly story. Dr. Richard Fox was originally an agent of Morton and other conspirators abroad. This discreditable work brought him to Paris early in 1485, where he became known to Henry Tudor. A man so employed could not have been a good priest. He came with Henry to England as his Secretary, and was of course well rewarded. He became Bishop of Winchester and Lord Privy Seal; and appears to have been munificent and diligent as a prelate. By his 'pulchris verbis' he treacherously drew Tyrrel into the clutches of Sir Thomas Lovell. This appears from a letter of the Earl of Suffolk to the Emperor Maximilian dated at Aix-la-Chapelle on May 12, 1502. So hurried were the proceedings against Tyrrel that he was actually beheaded six days before the date of Suffolk's letter announcing his treacherous capture. Bishop Fox has been much eulogised. But no one could be for years in the inner counsels of such a man as Henry VII. without being in sympathy with his ways, which certainly do not deserve eulogy.
[46] Leland's Coll. v. p. 373. From an anonymous manuscript. Letters of Richard III. and Henry VII., B. P. i. Pref. p. 29.
[47] Lord Herbert of Cherbury, Life of Henry VIII. p. 36. 'Our King executing what his father at his departure out of the world commanded, as Bellay hath it.'
It will be interesting, in conclusion, to examine the critical treatment of these questions by the latest historian who has written on the subject.[1] Mr. Gairdner argues in favour of the Tudor portrait of the last Plantagenet King, but only to a limited extent.
The thick and thin believers in the Tudor caricature, such as Hume and Lingard, aroused doubts in many minds. Mr. Gairdner is the most formidable enemy to the memory of the gallant young King that has yet appeared, because he is, beyond comparison, the best informed author that has ever treated of this part of history, has conscientiously striven to be fair and impartial, and has stated both sides of the question, while retaining a belief in Richard's worst crimes. His predecessors, who have taken his view, simply adopted all the statements of Tudor writers as facts, and have depicted a cool, calculating, scheming, cruel, and most revolting villain without a redeeming feature. They thus portrayed at least a possible monster. But Mr. Gairdner, while striving to be fair and just, still clings to what he calls 'tradition,' that is to the Tudor stories of crimes, told many years after the time. The two things are incompatible, so that he produces a monster which would be impossible anywhere. His Richard III. is a prince, headlong and reckless as to consequences, but of rare gifts and with many redeeming qualities. He was wise and able, brave, generous, religious, fascinating, and yet had committed two very cowardly assassinations before he was nineteen, murdered his defenceless nephews, and gratuitously slandered his mother. Such a monster is an impossibility in real life. Even Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are nothing to it.
Let us see how Mr. Gairdner arrived at his two-sided monster. He explains his method in his preface. He demurs to the view of the late Mr. Buckle that commonly received opinions should be doubted until they are found to stand the test of argument.[2] He lays it down that no attempt to set aside traditional views can be successful until the history of the particular epoch has been re-written, and the new version exhibits a moral harmony with the facts of subsequent times and of times preceding.[3]
'Tradition,' Mr. Gairdner tells us, is an interpreter and nothing more, and seldom supplies anything material in the way of facts.[4] Yet he adds that the attempt to discard it is like an attempt to learn a language without a master, and he thinks that a sceptical spirit is a most fatal one in history. It is difficult to follow him when he announces that, in spite of this view of tradition, his plan is to place the chief reliance on contemporary information, and that this treatment of history should be adhered to.[5]
'Tradition,' in Richard's case, means the embellishments of later chroniclers writing long after the events, in the interests of another dynasty. Unfortunately Mr. Gairdner does not always adhere to contemporary evidence, but prefers 'tradition.'
In the case of Richard III. Mr. Gairdner thinks that it is not clearly shown that the story would be more intelligible without 'tradition,' and that the said 'tradition' is not well accounted for.
Let us endeavour to test these two propositions by the light of Mr. Gairdner's own admissions.
His Richard stood high in general estimation when Duke of Gloucester.[6] As King the people showed him marks of loyalty.[7] In the north undoubtedly, and perhaps with the common people generally, he was highly popular, and there was every evidence of devoted loyalty and personal popularity at the time of Buckingham's rising.[8] He was an able ruler,[9] he had the confidence even of his enemies in his justice and integrity,[10] he was generous not only to the widows and children of fallen enemies, but even to the wives of rebels in open revolt,[11] his generous acts were done graciously and in no grudging spirit,[12] there was nothing mean or paltry in his character,[13] his manners were ingratiating, and he had great influence over others.
A person so described is very unintelligible if the assassinations and infamies of 'tradition' have to be added. Richard's character is far more intelligible without them; and 'tradition' is perfectly accounted for by the necessities of the new dynasty, whose well-paid writers created it.
Mr. Gairdner acknowledges that 'tradition' seldom supplies anything material in the way of facts. Yet he maintains that traditional views cannot be set aside unless the history of the particular epoch is re-written, and the new version exhibits a moral harmony with the facts of subsequent times and times preceding.
Of course certain passages in history would have to be re-written when they were found to be erroneous. But the truth or falsehood of a particular accusation cannot be affected by facts of subsequent times or times preceding. Its truth or falsehood is not established by moral harmony with something else, but by contemporary evidence.
My detailed remarks on Mr. Gairdner's views respecting Richard's alleged crimes are intended to show that his conclusions are mistaken when they deviate from his own plan of placing the chief reliance on contemporary evidence; and that a sceptical spirit, in the special case of Richard, is absolutely necessary if the truth is to be reached.
Mr. Gairdner assumes that Richard murdered his nephews, and, on the strength of his guilt in committing that crime, he argues that the criminal was capable of anything during his former life, and on this ground believes in some of the other alleged crimes. The earlier accusers appear to argue in the reverse way. They accumulated every accusation they could think of, with reference to Richard's former life, in order to make the main crime more probable.
Though Mr. Gairdner's sense of justice obliges him to make so many admissions that the revolting monster of earlier histories almost disappears in his hands, yet in some respects he goes backwards. For he still clings to the assassinations of young Edward and of Henry VI., two horrible stories invented by later chroniclers. Surely the sound arguments of Sharon Turner and others ought to have been allowed finally to expunge these revolting fables from our history.
However, in Mr. Gairdner's book the venomous hunchback, born with teeth, entirely disappears. He gives us, in his place, a prince 'whose bodily deformity, though perceptible, was probably not conspicuous.' In his latest version, he abandons the assassination in the King's tent by his chief nobles. He thinks that Richard is unduly blamed about the murder of Henry VI. because it was probably sanctioned by others. He pronounces Richard to be guiltless of the death of Clarence. He admits that Anne was not married to young Edward, and that there is some reason to believe that she regarded Richard with favour. He gives no countenance to the insinuation that Anne was poisoned by her husband. He is inclined to credit the pre-contract of Edward IV. with Lady Eleanor Butler, and admits the strength of the evidence for its truth. He considers it remarkable that a man (Lord Rivers) who suffered by the Protector's order could appeal to him to be supervisor of his will. This would certainly be very remarkable if Gloucester and Rivers had been accomplices in two cowardly murders. Such monsters do not usually place confidence in each other. But the simple truth is not remarkable. Rivers felt that he had failed and must pay the penalty, but he placed full and deserved confidence in Richard's honour and integrity, as well as in his generosity.
Mr. Gairdner has thus removed much of the Tudor garbage from the picture of King Richard, but he will not sweep off the rest. His researches show him that the accusations of the Tudor writers are irreconcilable with the results of modern investigations. But his preconceived convictions, although much shaken, are not yet swept away. The inevitable result is that the life and character of Richard become a puzzle to him. Generous, kind, and patriotic acts continue to be recorded of the young King throughout his life, which are certainly not the acts of an habitual assassin. Those who are forced to acknowledge the facts, and yet cling to a belief in the fictions, find themselves in a tight place. This is Mr. Gairdner's position. He will not give up all the Tudor fables, and clings to such shreds of them as it seems to him possible to retain. Yet his own researches force him to abandon much and to apologize for the rest. The man's acts cannot be made to harmonize with the Tudor calumnies. The consequent contradictions necessitate the explanation that 'Richard was not yet even a hardened criminal' (p. 46); while some of the events which cannot be disputed are 'certainly remarkable' (p. 91), and others 'almost inconceivable' (p. 214).
Mr. Gairdner cannot quite give up the fable of the murder of young Edward at Tewkesbury. He admits that it was not countenanced by any contemporary writer, that it was first told by Fabyan many years after the event, and that the final embellishment, according to which young Gloucester was a participator in the crime, was a tradition of later times. Yet in his history, he preferred the tradition of later times to the story of Fabyan, although he thought the latter had every appearance of probability, and he preferred both to the unanimous testimony of contemporaries.[14] There is no reason for this topsy-turvy criticism, except that what Mr. Gairdner calls a 'tradition' accuses Richard, while Fabyan and the contemporaries do not.
His arguments in favour of the murder given in his 'Life of Richard III.' were that Richard may very probably have been a murderer at nineteen, if any one of his other alleged murders be admitted; and that he was capable of a cowardly assassination because he condemned prisoners to death in his judicial capacity. On these grounds alone he urged that the accusation is not to be rejected. He did not maintain that it is true, but that it cannot safely be pronounced apocryphal. He also admitted that Richard ought not to bear the whole responsibility, as he was only an accessory. This is very different from the downright condemnation of Hume and Lingard.[15] The fable is evidently doomed. But there can be no sharing of responsibility. If Richard stabbed his young cousin he was a cowardly ruffian, whether other ruffians did the same or not. If he did not, no words can be strong enough to express the infamy of his Italian slanderer.
Mr. Gairdner has since shifted his ground,[16] and, adopting Warkworth's version, has admitted that young Edward was slain in the field, calling for succour to the Duke of Clarence; but he cannot bring himself to acquit Richard altogether, and suggests that he was the slayer, because no meaner person would have taken the responsibility of slaying so valuable a prisoner. As if these fine-drawn distinctions were made in the heat of a desperate mêlée. But even so, the two boys being about the same age and weight, it was a fair fight. There was no crime. Yet Mr. Gairdner still calls it a 'murder'! Of course there is no authority or ground whatever for bringing Richard in at all, if Warkworth's version is adopted. Verily the fiction is dying hard!
There is no reason for considering the Duke of Gloucester to have been capable of assassinating his cousin because it was his duty to sit in judgment on prisoners as Lord Constable. The trial of rebels before a court consisting of the Earl Marshal and the Lord Constable was perfectly legal and constitutional. Speaking of trial by jury, Chief Justice Fortescue laid it down that in England 'some cases might be proved before two only, such as facts occurring on the high seas, and proceedings before the Earl Marshal and the Lord Constable.' It was a constitutional tribunal, and, although very young, his office of Constable made it incumbent on Gloucester to sit in judgment. The Earl Marshal, being an older man, would probably take the leading part. Mr. Gairdner says that it was a summary tribunal and that all who were brought before it were beheaded. It was a constitutional tribunal, and only thirteen prisoners were condemned to death. As many as twelve of the leaders were pardoned, if not more, and all the subordinate officers and soldiers. In comparison with Lancaster and Tudor proceedings under similar circumstances,[17] the tribunal at Tewkesbury was lenient.[18]
Although it does not affect Richard, a serious accusation against Edward IV. should here receive attention, namely, that his enemies who had taken refuge in Tewkesbury Abbey might, in Mr. Gairdner's words, 'have saved themselves by flight if Edward had not sworn in church upon the sacraments to pardon them. As to the executions being vindictive, I should very much like to know what other character they can possibly bear except that they were perfidious also.' They may be called vindictive if all executions for treason in a civil war are to be so called, but not, as Mr. Gairdner evidently intends, in any special sense. The sting of the accusation, however, is in the alleged perfidy.
Here is Habington's version of the accusation referred to by Mr. Gairdner. 'King Edward with his sword drawn would have entered the church and forced the fugitives thence. But a priest with the eucharist in his hand would not let him until he had granted to all a free pardon. But this pardon betrayed them, for on the Monday after they were taken out of the church and all beheaded.'
There are some assertions so contrary to all reasonable probability that they cannot be accepted, after having been examined with any care. This is one. The fugitives had taken refuge in the abbey because they were too closely pursued, and escape was not possible. How could they have saved themselves by flight when Tewkesbury was occupied, and the abbey surrounded by Edward's army? We are asked to believe that the King swore on the sacrament to pardon all, and next day beheaded all. Why should he commit this wholly useless act of perjury? There was no object, nothing to gain by it. Even if he refrained from taking the fugitives out of the church, which the story has it that he did do next day, he could soon have starved them out. It is untrue that all were beheaded. The story that he took such an unnecessary oath, intending to break it next day, is too absurd for acceptance. As the result proved, the King intended to have the prisoners tried before the Earl Marshal's Court, to cause some of the condemned to undergo their sentence, and to pardon others. He may possibly have told a priest that some would be pardoned. This would soon be turned, by partisans, into all being pardoned. In point of fact many were pardoned.
In discussing the alleged murder of Henry VI., Mr. Gairdner admits that 'an after age has been a little unjust to Richard in throwing upon him the whole responsibility of acts in which others perhaps participated.' But this amounts to a surrender of the whole point at issue. Richard either stabbed Henry VI. without his brother's knowledge, as the story attributed to Sir Thomas More tells us, or he did nothing. The boy of eighteen either obtained the custody of the Tower from his political enemy Lord Rivers, without the King's knowledge and consent, went to Henry's room, and stabbed the unarmed feeble invalid with a dagger, or he did not. Assuming the murder, Mr. Gairdner appears to mean by saying that others participated in it, that it was committed by Edward IV. and his Council, with the complicity of Rivers the Constable of the Tower. It is difficult to see what else he can mean. In that case the statement of the historian whom Mr. Gairdner believes to be Sir Thomas More, that Gloucester committed the murder without his brother's knowledge, is false.
Mr. Gairdner is mistaken about the household accounts. He thinks they only refer to the expenses and diet of Henry's servants. But the statement is clear and distinct that the expenses and diet for fourteen days after May 11, that is until May 24, are for Henry himself as well as his attendants. The only contemporary writer gives the same date, and Polydore Virgil, the official writer employed by Henry VII., tells us that his death was long after May 21, the day when Richard was in the Tower. Fabyan and Warkworth's informant give this date of May 21, in contradiction to the above conclusive evidence for the 24th or night of the 23rd. First they assumed the murder, and then they fixed the date of it on the only day when Gloucester was there to commit it. The household accounts expose this fabrication of dates.
Mr. Gairdner settles the difference between these authorities in a very summary fashion. 'Considering the source from which this statement comes' (for the 23rd) 'and its total disagreement with the accounts of almost all other writers in or near the time, it is impossible to attach any weight to it whatever.' The answer to the last part of this sentence is that the writer in question was the only one who wrote at the time; and that Warkworth and Fabyan, who wrote afterwards, are the only authorities for the 21st. Moreover Polydore Virgil, who had access to all official records, directly contradicts Warkworth and Fabyan, giving a much later date for the death of Henry VI.
Mr. Gairdner's other reason for rejecting the evidence of the writer in Fleetwood is that his report was official, and that consequently 'it is impossible to attach any weight to his statement whatever.' But on this principle Mr. Gairdner ought to sweep away all the accusations against Richard made by Tudor writers; for they are almost all the work of official partisans engaged, some of them paid to vilify the predecessor of their employer. Official chroniclers should be held in suspicion, and their narratives call for strict scrutiny. But there ought to be discrimination. If a document is official, it is not ipso facto false. There must be some evidence against it besides its official character. The writer who sent a narrative of the restoration of Edward IV. to the citizens of Bruges has not been detected in any misrepresentations. He gave a plain statement of the course of events, with no other object than to convey to the generous Flemings a knowledge of what had befallen the gallant young King whom they had befriended. He gave the 23rd as the date of the death of Henry VI. because the fact was within his own personal knowledge. This was not the case with any writer who has given a different date. According to the story the murder was committed in profound secrecy. The most virulent Tudor chroniclers only mention it as a suspicion. There was no ground whatever for the accusation, or they would have stated it. This suspicion, as regards Gloucester, was never whispered until the Tudor King was in power. It is, therefore, to the last degree improbable that, assuming there was a crime, it should have been needlessly divulged to the author of the letter to Bruges with orders that he should falsify the date. If the murder was a secret, as the Tudor chroniclers affirm, and if, as two of them assert, the date of Henry's death was known, it would have been useless to falsify a date which was known, to conceal an unknown deed. The inevitable conclusion is that the date was not falsified in the letter to Bruges; and that the 23rd was the day of Henry's death. The suggested falsification would be such an act of folly as no writer, even if he wrote officially, would be at all likely to commit; for it would be uselessly raising a suspicion where none existed. If anything of the kind had been attempted, the date of Richard's presence, not of Henry's death, would have been altered. But there is really nothing to raise a suspicion of the author's good faith.
Very different are the authorities who contradict him. Warkworth's story contains a statement that the Duke of Gloucester was present in the Tower at the time of Henry's death, and then the date is given with that excessive minuteness of day and hour which is characteristic of the lie circumstantial. The whole story is dished up with a miracle or two. It is not necessary to suppose that Dr. Warkworth was himself guilty of misrepresentation. He was evidently very credulous, and he was deceived by his informer. As for Fabyan, he wrote in the days of Henry VII. and was desirous of suiting his tales to the wishes of that jealous tyrant. Apart from the undesigned evidence of the household accounts, the letter to the citizens of Bruges must, on every principle of historical criticism, be accepted as a more reliable authority, on this point, than the miracle-monger Warkworth or the unscrupulous time-server Fabyan. The whole story about Henry VI. having been murdered by Gloucester is palpably a Tudor calumny invented long afterwards, and told so clumsily that it certainly did not deserve the success which has attended it.[19]
Mr. Gairdner acquits Richard of responsibility for the death of Clarence, as was inevitable. For he would not be supported even by the most unscrupulous enemy of Richard's memory if he refused to acquit him. Clearly there was no belief among his contemporaries that Richard was in any way to blame. Yet Mr. Gairdner cannot let the matter rest. He suggests that Richard's foundation of colleges at Middleham and Barnard Castle, with provision for masses for the souls of his father, brothers, and sisters, betokens remorse for the death of Clarence, because the licences to found these colleges were granted soon after his brother's death. Clarence is not specially mentioned, only brothers and sisters. This pious act might betoken regret, but it cannot be supposed to betoken remorse. The man's conscience must indeed have been morbidly sensitive if it caused remorse for that which the King and the Parliament had done, but which he had opposed. It was quite natural that Richard should have provided for these masses from ordinary feelings of regret and affection for all the deceased members of his family. The idea of remorse is gratuitous and very far-fetched; for Richard had arranged for the foundation of these colleges before the death of Clarence. Mr. Gairdner further remarks that Richard gained by his brother's death, his son being created Earl of Salisbury and he himself receiving the whole of a lordship of which he previously owned half. Richard certainly would not have compassed his brother's death, even assuming him to have been the monster of 'tradition,' for the sake of an earldom for his son, seeing that the father had two earldoms already, scarcely for the other half of the Barnard Castle estate. Mr. Gairdner cannot surely think that Richard had some hand in his brother's death for the sake of such very small gains. For he has told us that there was nothing mean or paltry in Richard's character, and he acquits him of the death of Clarence. King Edward, naturally enough, gave the vacant earldoms of Warwick and Salisbury to the infant sons of his two brothers.
Mr. Gairdner has nothing to say against the young prince with regard to his marriage. We, therefore, come to our historian's treatment of the events which led to Richard's accession. Mr. Gairdner dismisses the accusations against the Duke of Gloucester, that he was carrying on intrigues with Buckingham and other members of the Council, between the date of his brother's death and that of his arrival in London.[20] He also considers the arrest and execution of Lord Rivers and his companions to have been justifiable. He believes that the Woodville party intended to keep the government in their own hands by main force,[21] that the generality of the people were convinced that Rivers and Grey had entertained designs distinctly treasonable,[22] and he mentions the fact that their baggage contained large quantities of armour and implements of war. This is a proof that they contemplated the raising and arming of a large force. Mr. Gairdner even goes so far as to admit that the retribution dealt out to Rivers and his companions was 'not more severe than perhaps law itself might have authorised.' As we know from Rous that the law was invoked, these admissions amount to an exculpation of King Richard, as regards his treatment of Rivers, Vaughan, and Grey.
Mr. Gairdner's position with regard to Richard's title to the crown is curious. That title was based on the fact that Edward IV. had entered into a marriage contract with Lady Eleanor Butler before he went through the ceremony with the widow of Sir J. Grey. The Tudor King attempted to destroy all record of this event, and his official writers then put forward two other statements, which they alleged to have been made as justifications of Richard's claim to the crown. One of these was that Richard's elder brothers were illegitimate, the other that the previous marriage was with a woman named Lucy. The name of Lady Eleanor is carefully suppressed. Long afterwards the official document was discovered in which the title is based solely on the previous contract with Lady Eleanor Butler.
Such is the case very briefly stated. Mr. Gairdner believes that the story of the pre-contract with Lady Eleanor may be true. He considers that the care taken by the Tudor writers to suppress and pervert it is evidence of its truth. He even suggests that the death of Clarence was due to the fact that he had got possession of the secret. But he fails to see that the truth of this pre-contract not only invalidates the other stories invented by the Tudor writers to conceal it, but entirely destroys their credibility. Morton's statement that it was alleged by Richard's supporters that the pre-contract was with Lucy must be false, as well as the assertion that a calumny was promulgated against the Duchess of York; if the pre-contract with Lady Eleanor is true. Surely Mr. Gairdner must see that the statement of a title made in an officially inspired sermon or speech must have been made to agree with that in the document which Henry VII. attempted to destroy. Having made away with the document, so that they could mis-state its contents, Henry's chroniclers put what inventions they pleased into the mouths of preachers and orators. But the document has since been found. Its real contents are known. Men who would deliberately make this elaborate series of false statements are utterly unworthy of credit. Yet Mr. Gairdner still clings to the belief that the odious slander about the Duchess of York was promulgated, and continues to quote Morton's story as if it were authentic and reliable history.
The sole ground put forward for still believing that the slander was uttered against the Duchess of York is that one of these authorities alleges that the people were scandalised at the sermon, and another that the Duchess complained of the dishonour done her. These additions to the fable, from the same suspicious sources, can in no conceivable way strengthen its credibility.[23]
We now come to the main stronghold of Tudor calumny—the story of the smothering of the little princes in the Tower. Mr. Gairdner makes a hesitating defence. He cannot doubt that the dreadful deed was done. But he admits that the story, as told in the narrative attributed to Sir Thomas More, is full of inaccuracies and improbabilities. He contends, however, that it is not necessary for it to be true in all its details, in order to give credence to the main allegation. He also admits that the crime imputed to Richard rests upon the assertions of only a few, and that two of these mention it merely as a report. He denies that Richard was the cold scheming calculating villain of previous histories; and apparently thinks that, if this had been his character, he would not have acted in the way alleged in the story. Consequently the story could not be true. For a cold calculating villain would not have been so foolish as to leave London, and then send his orders to the Tower, without having previously ascertained that they would be obeyed. Mr. Gairdner's theory is that Richard was headstrong and reckless as to consequences, a man of violent and impatient temper. Such a man, Mr. Gairdner thinks, might act in the way described in the story; if a strong motive was suddenly supplied to him. Mr. Gairdner looks round for such a motive, and thinks he has found it in the alleged contemplated rising in favour of the two young princes. But no such motive existed. The date given for the alleged murders was August 1483. The rising, even if it had been in favour of the boys and not of Buckingham, was in October. Mr. Davies has shown that the first tidings reached the king at Lincoln on October 11,[24] and Mr. Gairdner fully admits that Richard was taken completely by surprise. This proves that no motive for the crime was supplied in August, calculated to make a violent and reckless man take sudden action. If there was no motive there was no murder. Thus Mr. Gairdner's explanation fails, while the improbabilities remain as strong as ever. The difficulties disappear as soon as Richard is acquitted, and his astute successor is placed in the dock.
With reference to this horrible accusation against King Richard, Mr. Gairdner had opened his work with the dictum that 'it is vain to deny that Richard had long lost the hearts of his subjects.' But Mr. Gairdner himself has supplied some of the proofs that the King never lost the hearts of his subjects. Mr. Gairdner acknowledges that up to September 1483, 'in the north undoubtedly, and perhaps with the common people generally, Richard was highly popular' (p. 147). In November 1484, when, on the young King's return to London he was received with demonstrations of loyalty, Mr. Gairdner says that 'perhaps he had to some extent recovered the good will of the people' (p. 243). But, in the meanwhile, we are not supplied with a shadow of a proof that he had ever lost it. He was the victim of the perfidy of a few traitors. There was no national movement against him in favour of Henry Tudor. Sharon Turner truly remarked that 'the nation had no share in the conflict. It was an ambush of a few perfidious and disaffected noblemen against the crown. Richard was overwhelmed by the explosion of a new mine, which he had not suspected to be forming beneath him, because it was prepared and fired by those whom gratitude, honour and conscience ought to have made faithful.' The city of York recorded the grief of the people at King Richard's death. He was popular to the end.
Mr. Gairdner fully explains the causes of Richard's popularity (p. 313). 'His taste in building was magnificent and princely. There was nothing mean or paltry in his character (p. 318). Many of his acts were dictated by charitable feelings or a sense of justice. He had in him a great deal of native religious sentiment (p. 47). He made it his endeavour, so far as it lay in his power, to prevent tyranny for the future (p. 205), and as king he really studied his country's welfare (p. 313). No wonder that such a King, who was also renowned for his valour in the field and his wisdom in council, should have been popular among his subjects! But it is wonderful that thoughtful and accomplished men, who admit all this, should cling to the vile and wretched calumnies, the discredited tatters of which still partly obscure the truth.
The work of Mr. Gairdner is of great value owing to its conscientious attempt to be judicially impartial, to the learning and research that are apparent in every page, and to the considerable number of errors it exposes, and of mistakes that are finally cleared up by it. The good points in the character of King Richard III. are prominently brought forward. The excellence of his government and the generosity of his character are made so apparent, that one is surprised, in the midst of this goodly record, to come suddenly on such epithets as 'usurper,' 'tyrant,' 'inhuman King.' Mr. Gairdner's learning and critical insight have so weakened the traditional fables, a half belief in which he cannot quite shake off, that they are not likely to retain a place much longer in serious history.