Part 14 (1/2)
Morton, who is described as being ”a very wise, politic person, a man of learning, and of a winning behaviour,” did not allow his host to remain long inactive and unattacked with regard to the great scheme he had in view. Within the influence of such a mind, Buckingham, weak, vacillating, ambitious, and unscrupulous, would literally be nowhere, and so it turned out.
On his arrival at the Castle, Buckingham, it is said, was still full of the praises of Richard. In a qualified sense this was probably so; Morton comprehended the situation at once; he had probably antic.i.p.ated it, and was prepared with his plans. The argument the astute ecclesiastic used was double-edged. He knew it would not be safe to depreciate Richard's character alone without some compensating, alluring set-off; and so he coupled with it the inevitably unsettling--the prelude to convincing--one to minds const.i.tuted as Buckingham's,--that of flattering his vanity with the vision of rivals.h.i.+p, by setting forth the equal if not superior claim to the highest dignity, he possessed, both in disposition, wisdom, and birth; supplemented by a contrasted view of Richard's atrocious wickedness, and unprincipled usurpation. Not that Morton really wished or desired such a thing, as the sequel proved, because a s.h.i.+ft of this nature would be only exchanging the bad for as bad; but if he could alienate Buckingham from Richard half the battle would be won, the ultimate design would take care of itself, and may be unfolded in due time. So the fly played with the spider; and, said the Bishop to his gaoler-host,--
”As for the late Protector, since he is now King, I do not intend to dispute his t.i.tle; however for the good of the realm he governs (of which I am a poor member) I was about to wish, that to the good qualities he possesses, it had pleased G.o.d to have added some of those excellent virtues, requisite for the governing a kingdom, which are so conspicuous in the person of your Grace.”[23]
[23] _More._
So Morton is said to have whetted Buckingham's appet.i.te and appealed to his pride, and the Duke, as a matter of course, wished to hear further of the mind of his adroit and agreeable prisoner, promising the utmost secrecy in all things concerned, on a subject evidently congenial to him. Morton soon discovered this, and growing bolder, placed in striking and flattering contrast the superior qualities of his host, compared with the evil and cruel characteristics of Richard, under whom ”if he at any time is suspicious of his fidelity to him, no man is sure of his own life,” and continued he,--
”to conclude this discourse, I conjure you by your love to G.o.d, your ill.u.s.trious line, and your native country, to take the imperial crown of this realm upon you, to restore this kingdom to its antient splendor, and deliver it from the violence of the oppressor. I dare affirm if the Turk stood in compet.i.tion with this b.l.o.o.d.y tyrant, this killer of infants, the people of England would prefer him to Richard who now sits upon the throne. How much more then would they rejoice to live under the government of so excellent a prince as your Grace? Despise not neither lose so fair an occasion of saving yourself and your country.”[24]
[24] ”_Continuation_,” from Hall and Hollinshead's Chronicles.
Thus much for the preliminary portion of the prelate's speech, to enlist the ear of his auditor, and then he added, what he intended the foregoing adulation should lead up to,--
”But if you will not yourself accept the sovereignty of this kingdom, if the toils and hazards of a crown, prevail over you more than the charms of power, I entreat you by the faith you owe to G.o.d, by your affection to the place that gave you birth, and to the English nation; that you will in your high and princely wisdom think of some means of advancing such a good governor, as you shall appoint to rule and govern them. All the hopes of the people of England are in you, and to you only can they fly for succour. If you could set up the house of Lancaster once more, or marry the eldest daughter of king Edward to some great and potent prince, the new King would not long enjoy his usurped empire, all civil war would cease, domestic discord would sleep, and universal peace and profit be the blessings of this n.o.ble land.”[25]
[25] ”_Continuation_,” from Hall and Hollinshead's Chronicles.
This candid statement appears to have been a _poser_ for Buckingham, who, it is added, ”continued silent some time,” at which the Bishop in his turn ”changed colour, and was very much confused,” expecting the Duke to have warmly coincided; who, ”perceiving the Bishop's affright, bade him fear nothing, and they would have further talk on the morrow, but now 'let us go to supper.'”
The Duke sent for Morton the next day, and not being quite easy and sure within himself, bade the Bishop rehea.r.s.e the whole matter over again. This done, Buckingham ”pulled off his hat, and made a sort of prayer,” which being ended, ”he then put on his hat, and applied himself to the Bishop.”
Buckingham's reply to Morton was a kind of declaration and confession combined. He began with a similar strain of profession of regard toward the Bishop, having always found him ”a sure friend, a trusty counsellor, and a vigilant statesman,” and as the Bishop had so unreservedly opened his mind to him, he would reciprocate the confidence. And so he began by declaring,--
”that when King Edward died, to whom I thought I was very little obliged (though he and I had married two sisters), because he neither promoted or preferred me, as I thought I deserved by my birth, and the relation I had to him; I did not much value his children's interest, having their father's ill usage still in my mind.”
and also that it would be of ”ill consequence” to the nation, for the young King to govern, with his mother for Regent, and all her family, who were persons of ”no high descent” occupying the most important positions, and have more share in the government than the King's relations and the other persons who were of the ”very highest quality”
in the kingdom, and so,--
”for these reasons I thought it to be for the public welfare, and my private advantage to side with the Duke of Gloucester, whom I took to be as sincere and merciful, as I now find him to be false and cruel. By my means, as you know well, he was made Protector of the King, and Kingdom.”
That after this Gloucester produced to him and others ”instruments witnessed by doctors, proctors, and notaries,” shewing that Edward's children were b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, and himself the rightful heir to the throne, which they believed to be true, and so took him for their ”rightful prince and sovereign,” and it was by his a.s.sistance he was made King, at which time
”he promised me at Baynards-Castle, laying his hand on mine, that the two young Princes should live and be provided for, to mine and everyone's satisfaction. When he was in possession of the throne he forgot his friends, and the a.s.surances he had given them, and denied to grant my pet.i.tion for part of the Earl of Hereford's lands, which his brother wrongfully detained from me.
And when I was certainly informed of the death of the two innocent Princes, to which (G.o.d be my judge) I never consented, my blood curdled at his treason and barbarity, I abhorred the sight of him, and his company much more.”
This statement as to the refusal of Richard to give him the portion of the Earl of Hereford's lands, does not accord with Dugdale's account to which we shall refer, nor with Richard's bitter exclamation of reproach when he heard of Buckingham's defection.
The Duke then continues to narrate how on his way homeward to Brecknock, he ”meditated” how he might dethrone Richard, and that ”had I a.s.sumed the supreme power, I thought there was n.o.body so likely to carry it as myself,” that he sojourned two days at Tewkesbury brooding over the matter, but considered altogether ”that to pretend to seat myself on the throne would not do,” as in that case both the houses of York and Lancaster would join themselves against him, although he remembered,--
”that Edmund, Duke of Somerset, my grandfather, was with king Henry VI. in two or three degrees from John, Duke of Lancaster, lawfully begotten, my mother being Duke Edmund's eldest daughter, I looked on myself as next heir to Henry VI. of the house of Lancaster. But as I further journied between Worcester and Bridgenorth, I met the Lady Margaret, Countess of Richmond, at present wife to the Lord Stanley, who is the rightful and sole heir of John, Duke of Somerset, my grandfather's elder brother, whose t.i.tle I had forgot until I saw her in my way, and then I remembered that both her claim, and her son the Earl of Richmond's, were bars to mine, and forbad my pretending to the crown of England.”
At this interview it was proposed by the Countess that her son should marry one of king Edward's daughters, and ”conjured” Buckingham, ”by the memory of Duke Humphrey, his grandfather,” to do his utmost to forward the match, to be eventually a solution to the present troubles, and he came to a resolution to ”spend his life and fortune”
in forwarding such a ”glorious design,” by which, if effected, he doubted not ”the proud boar, whose tusks have gored so many innocent persons, shall soon be brought to confusion, the rightful and indubitate heir enjoy the crown, and peace be restored to this distracted kingdom.”
This was exactly the kind of confession Morton required, and all being agreed on, the next thing was to get some trusty envoy to send to the Countess of Richmond to concert measures. He was soon found in the person of Sir Reginald Braye, who was despatched to her with the announcement of Buckingham and Morton's design, and to get her to communicate with the Queen-Mother and acquire her a.s.sent and adherence to the project. This the Countess effected through the medium of Dr.
Lewis, her physician, and the Queen-Mother readily a.s.sented, on the stipulated condition that the Earl of Richmond married her daughter Elizabeth, and failing her, the next eldest, Cecilia.
Morton having taken captive the mind, if not the person of his gaoler, now wished the Duke to set him at liberty, and let him go to his diocese in Ely, where his friends would preserve him from any violence of Richard's,--”once I find myself at Ely,” said he to Buckingham, ”with four days start of Richard, I am ready to defy all his malice.”