Part 30 (1/2)

Mr. Gairdner a.s.sumes 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 acc.u.mulated 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 {285} clings to the a.s.sa.s.sinations 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 a.s.sa.s.sination in the King's tent by his chief n.o.bles. He thinks that Richard is unduly blamed about the murder of Henry VI. because it was probably sanctioned by others. He p.r.o.nounces 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.

{286}

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 a.s.sa.s.sin. 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 partic.i.p.ator 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 {287} 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 a.s.sa.s.sination 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 p.r.o.nounced 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 s.h.i.+fted his ground,[16] and, adopting Warkworth's version, has admitted that {288} 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 _melee_.

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 a.s.sa.s.sinating 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 const.i.tutional. 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 const.i.tutional tribunal, and, although very young, his office of Constable made it inc.u.mbent 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 const.i.tutional 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 {289} and Tudor proceedings under similar circ.u.mstances,[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 {290} them, for on the Monday after they were taken out of the church and all beheaded.'

There are some a.s.sertions 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 partic.i.p.ated.'

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 {291} 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. a.s.suming the murder, Mr. Gairdner appears to mean by saying that others partic.i.p.ated 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 a.s.sumed 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 fas.h.i.+on. '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 {292} 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 doc.u.ment 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 {293} 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, a.s.suming 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 a.s.sert, 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 circ.u.mstantial. 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 {294} 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.