Chapter VII: Part 7

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 anticipated 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 constituted as Buckingham's,--that of flattering his vanity with the vision of rivalship, 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 shift 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 title; 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 God 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 appetite 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 God,
your illustrious 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 competition with
this bloody 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 God, 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 noble
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 rehearse 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 bastards, 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 assistance 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 assurances he had given
them, and denied to grant my petition 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 (God 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 assumed the supreme power, I thought there was nobody 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 title 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 assent and adherence to the project. This the Countess effected through the medium of Dr. Lewis, her physician, and the Queen-Mother readily assented, 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." The Duke however had no mind to lose so good an adviser, and did not wish him to leave, but Morton was determined to be gone if he could, and so stole away from Brecknock Castle in disguise, and doubtless without the Duke's knowledge.

It is rather difficult to estimate Morton's action on this occasion. The secret was out, the measures were concerted, and would soon get wind; was he afraid of Richard's vengeance? By his leaving Buckingham thus, he greatly compromised the Duke if their plans failed, and left him to certain destruction, while he would be in safety. With great rapidity he crossed from Brecknock to Ely, a hundred and seventy miles, and thence to Wisbech, and with money and men he had collected from his great works in the Fens, took shipping and got safely over to Flanders, and the first intelligence Richard had of his flight, was that he was in Brittany with the Earl of Richmond. Richard doubtless was fully alive to the threatened danger, and Shakspeare well imagines his apprehension in the words,--

"Ely with Richmond troubles me more near
Than Buckingham with all his rash-levied strength."

Matters now proceeded apace toward the development of the movement. Sir Reginald Braye, as the trusty ambassador, had won over Sir Giles Daubeney, Sir John Cheney, Sir Richard Guilford, and others, and with these were the Courtenays, Sir Edward, afterward Earl of Devon, and Bishop Peter Courtenay, Sir Robert Willoughby, afterward Lord Broke, Sir Thomas Arundell, and Sir Thomas Brandon, these were to _rendez-vous_ at or near Salisbury: the Marquis of Dorset had left his sanctuary, and with his uncle Sir Richard Widville had gone to the north. Dr. Christopher Urswick, Chaplain to the Countess, and Thomas Rame, had been despatched by her by different routes to Brittany to apprise her son of the complexion of the movement, and he was to appear off the western coast with a fleet and men to land in aid.

Richard, of course, soon found out the character of the insurrection and those implicated in it. To Buckingham he first sent a "very kind obliging letter," inviting him to come to London, but the Duke "pretended indisposition," and so excused himself. The King thereon being enraged, sent him "a letter in a rougher stile, commanding him on his allegiance to attend him." But the die was cast, matters had gone too far to recede, and the message was returned by the Duke, "that he would not expose himself to his mortal enemy, whom he neither loved nor would serve."

Buckingham gathered together as soon as possible his "rash-levied" strength. These consisted of a number of his tenants and a host of ill-disciplined Welshmen, and he endeavoured by long marches, passing through the Forest of Dean, to get to Gloucester, and thence onward to join the western contingent. The Earl of Richmond set sail from Brittany, the twelfth of October, with a fleet of forty ships and five thousand Bretons on board. They appear to have at once encountered a storm, which dispersed the fleet, but

"the ship in which was the Earl in person, was driven on the
coast of England, to the mouth of the haven of Poole, in
Dorsetshire; where, finding the shore was crowded with troops to
oppose his descent, he forbad any of his men to land until the
whole navy came up. However he sent out his boat with some
officers to demand of the men who stood on the shore, whether
they were friends or enemies? These traitors instructed by king
Richard, answered, 'They were friends posted there by the Duke of
Bucks to receive the Earl of Richmond.' The Earl suspecting the
deceit, and perceiving he was alone, the rest of his fleet not
appearing, weighed anchor, returned to France, and landed in
Normandy."

But how fared Buckingham and his motley host? Not only circumstances, but Nature fought against him. The river Severn, swollen by ten days continuous rain, overflowed all the adjoining country, doing immense damage, and the inundation was so large, and of such remarkable character, that for a hundred years afterward it was named and recollected as _The Great Water_, or _Buckingham's Water_, and tradition delivers it was so severe "that men, women, and children were carried away in their beds with the violence of it."

This inundation totally prevented the Duke and his army crossing the river, and his allies on the other side coming to his support. The Welshmen "tried with being exposed to hunger, rain, and numberless hardships, returned to their homes,"--they appear to have deserted by degrees, "until at last the Duke had none left about him but his domestic servants, nor could prayers nor threats keep them together, so he was obliged to fly with the rest."

Thus prematurely ended this unfortunate movement, and Buckingham fled for refuge and secrecy to the house of his old servant, Ralph Banister, to whom himself, and his father before him, had shewn many acts of kindness.

Richard had gone down north to organize an army to meet the insurrection, and on the twelfth of October was at Lincoln, to see the Bishop, who however was absent and sick. Here the King sent him a letter to the following intent,--

By the KING.

"Right Reverend Fadre in God, and Right trusty and wellbeloved;
We grete you wele, and in our hertiest wyse thank you for the
manyfold Presentes that your Servantes in your behalve have
presented unto Us at this oure being here: which we assure you we
toke and accepted with good hert; and so we have cawse. And
whereas We by Goddes Grace intend briefly to avaunce us towards
our Rebel and Traitor the Duc of Buckingham, to resiste and
withstand his malicious purpose, as lately by our other Letters
We certifyed you oure mynd more at large; For which Cause it
behoveth us to have our grete Sele here, We being enfourmed, that
for such Infirmities and Deseases as ye susteyne ne may in your
person to your ease conveniently come unto us with the same:
Wherefore we will, and natheless charge you that forthwith upon
the sight of thies, yee saufly do the same our grete Sele to be
sent unto us; and such of th'office of oure Chauncery as by your
Wisedome shall be thought necessary, receiving these oure Letters
for youre sufficient Discharge in that behalve. Yeven under oure
Signet at oure Cite of Lincolne the xii day of Octobre."

To which Richard with his own hand, added this remarkable and significant postscript,--

"We wolde most gladly ye came your selff, yf that ye may, and yf
ye may not, we pray you not to fayle, but to accomplyshe in al
dyllygence oure sayd commaundement, to send oure Seale
incontinent apon the syght hereof, as we truste you with such as
ye truste, and the Officers parteyning, to attend with hyt;
praying you to ascerteyn us of your Newes ther. Here loved be
God, is al wel, and trewly determyned, and for to resiste the
Malyse of him, that had best Cawse to be trew, the Duc of
Bokyngham the most untrew Creature lyvynge. Whom with Gods Grace
we shall not be long til that we wyll be in that parties, and
subdew his Malys. Wee assure you there was never falsre Traitor
purvayde for, as this Berrer Gloucester shal shew you."

What Richard was in such hurry to get his Great Seal for, was manifest at Leicester. Here, on the twenty-third of the month, he issued a proclamation against the rebels, and offering rewards for their apprehension. For Buckingham it was a thousand pounds in money, or a hundred pounds yearly in land, for the Marquis of Dorset and the Bishops of Ely and Salisbury a thousand marks in money each, or one hundred marks in land, and smaller sums for knights and gentlemen of lesser degree. His reprobation appears to have been specially directed against the Marquis of Dorset, "who, at the perill of his soule, hath many and sundry maids, widows, and wives, damnably, and without shame, deflowered and defiled." The next day at Coventry,--

"In order to make short work, and avoid the usual formalities of
the courts of justice, he commissioned Sir Ralph Ashton to
exercise the office of Vice-Constable, with so extensive a power,
that he could condemn and execute on the spot, all persons
whatever, guilty or suspected of the crime of high-treason,
without having regard to any appeal."

Ashton, who was probably a man after his master's heart, took summary vengeance on the dispersed insurrectionists, and coming into the western counties signalized his zeal by numerous executions of those adjudged by him guilty, or only of favouring the conspirators; anticipating in spirit and action the bloody campaign of the detestable Jeffreys, on a similar errand two centuries afterward.

"It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in man, than to put confidence in princes;"--had ever the royal Psalmist's words truer interpretation than in the fate of Buckingham, whom we left hiding with his servant near Shrewsbury? Alas for the fidelity of servants when exposed to temptation; but is not falseness ever the attribute of servitude? Instead of the noble self-denial of sheltering and befriending his old master and friend, the glittering prize of a thousand pounds was within his grasp, the position of being a petty squire with a "manor of land" was before his eyes, and the temptation proved to be too much for "Maister Rauf Banistre," who, casting the eternal odium that would inseparably be attached to such conduct to the winds, went and betrayed the whereabouts of his master to John Milton, Esq., then Sheriff of Shropshire, who with a party of soldiery surrounded and searched the locality, apprehended him in a little grove near Banister's house, and conveyed him to Shrewsbury.

After a short confinement there, the Duke by royal order was delivered over to the custody of Sir James Tyler and another knight; and, "appareled in a piled black cloak," was escorted to Salisbury.

Richard who was pursuing his journey southward, had probably reached Salisbury before his prisoner had arrived.

No time was lost in dealing with the noble captive. His fate had already been foreshadowed in Richard's postscript to the Bishop,--

"When this arm of mine hath chastised
The petty rebel, dull-brained Buckingham."

And there could be but one effectual way to "subdue his malys," and to put permanently beyond the power of future mischief this "never falsre traitor to be purvayde for,"--this "most untrew creature lyvynge."

The Duke was closely examined by his captors, and is said to have confessed the whole plan of the insurrection, and all particulars of the conspiracy.

He then made energetic efforts to obtain an interview with Richard, hoping to excite his compassion, or, as it has been also surmised, purposing if opportunity offered to despatch him with a concealed dagger. But he was sueing a much more able and crafty person than himself. Richard was about the last man to trust himself into the compromising company of his victim, and so into colloquy with one with whom he had aforetime been partner in so many crimes, and to whom he also owed so much, in acquiring his present position. Richard refused to see him, and his doom was immediate death, without further trial or arraignment.

BUCKINGHAM. Will not King Richard let me speak with him?

SHERIFF. No, my good lord; therefore be patient.

BUCKINGHAM. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey,
Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward,
Vaughan, and all that have miscarried
By underhand corrupted foul injustice;
If that your moody discontented souls
Do through the clouds behold this present hour,
Even for revenge mock my destruction!--
This is All-Souls' day, fellows, is it not?

SHERIFF. It is, my lord.

BUCKINGHAM. Why then All-Souls' day is my body's doomsday.

It was even so. On 2 November, 1483, being All-Souls day, the Duke of Buckingham was beheaded in or near the Market Place, at Salisbury.

It is singular that such little knowledge remains as to the exact spot where this unfortunate but unscrupulous man perished, and no official evidence at all exists as to his place of burial. Relative to this Sir R. C. Hoare says,--

"It is remarkable that no allusion to this transaction is found
in the documents at Salisbury, even though it took place on the
second of November, the day of choosing the Mayor and other
public officers; whose appointment is recorded in the usual form.
Possibly the city authorities were too deeply implicated in the
intended insurrection to risk even a reference to the subject.
The Pipe Roll of the reign of Richard III. has been carefully
examined, but the search has been fruitless. It is proper to
observe, however, that a stone is still pointed out, as that on
which Buckingham suffered. This stone is in the yard adjoining
the house now occupied by Messrs. Styles and Large, which
formerly belonged to the Blue Boar Inn."

Concerning this, Hall observes,--

"'Without arraignment or judgment, he was, in the open
Market-place on a new scaffold, beheaded and put to death. His
death he received at the hands of king Richard, whom he had
before, in his affairs, purposes, enterprises, holden, sustained,
and set forward, above all God's forbode."

And this account is corroborated by documents in the _Stafford MSS._, quoted by the historian of Shrewsbury. The passage on the subject is as follows:--

"And so all the gentlemen of Harrefordshire weare send for by
Privy Seale to King Richard to _Salisburie_, and by that time
Duke Henry of Buckingham, was brought by Sir James Tyler, the
third daye, wheare he was pittifullie murdered by the said Kinge,
for raisinge power to bring in King Henrie the Seventh."

The Duke having been thus summarily disposed of, what became of the wretch that betrayed him? One account narrates,--

"Banister and his whole family were destroyed by the surprizing
judgments of the Almighty. The Usurper refused to pay him the
thousand pounds promised in the Proclamation, saying, 'He that
would betray so good a Master, would be false to any other.'"

But according to another, and truer version, the informer received his reward, and,--

"with the king's commendation of his service in his letters
patent; for he gave him the Manour and Lordship of Ealding in
Kent, late belonging to the Duke of Buckingham. So the letters
ran,--'RICHARD &c.,--_to al and singular the Officers, &c.,--Wit
ye, that in consideration of the true and faithful service which
our well beloved servant Rauf Banistre Esq, now late hath done
unto us, for and about the taking and bringing of our said great
Rebel into our hands, we have given unto the said Rauf, and to
his heirs male, the said Manour for ever._'"

Both giver and receiver a congenial pair, and the gift that passed a characteristic one, being a portion of the spoil of their victim. Of such men it may be said,--

"Shame and Desolation sit
By their graves ever."

But where was Buckingham buried, after he had been thus "condemned and executed in such summary way, on a new scaffold erected in the Market-place of Salisbury." A tomb to his memory is erected in Britford church, about a mile and a half distant from that city, but it is a cenotaph only, his body was not interred there; where then was its final resting-place, after his troublous life had found such disastrous extinction? Still further ignominy appears to have remained to be meted out to the inanimate form, after man had wreaked his last vengeance on the life.

_From the Saturday Magazine, 6 April, 1839._]

From an article in the _Saturday Magazine_, 6 April, 1839, we gather the following,--

"Tradition assigns the court-yard of the Blue Boar Inn, as the
scene of this bloody tragedy; but great uncertainty seems always
to have prevailed as to the spot where the mutilated remains of
this unfortunate nobleman were finally deposited. The
frontispiece which is presented to our readers, gives a view of
the kitchen of an inn (the Saracen's Head) in Salisbury, in
which, while some repairs and alterations were being made, a
skeleton, in the condition shewn in the picture, was discovered
beneath the floor of the apartment, which is on a level with the
ground. A view of the appearance of the figure, together with the
apartment, was made and published by Mr. J. M. Cullam--of which
view, with his permission we have taken a copy. These human
remains, are with good reason, supposed to have belonged to that
Duke of Buckingham.

"It is supposed that the head and right arm, after having been
submitted to the personal inspection of the King, then resident
in "the King's house," in the Close, were sent to London to be
affixed to Temple Bar, or exposed on Tower Hill, as was commonly
used to be done in those times. A tomb in the north chantry of
St. Thomas's church, Salisbury, was once supposed to contain the
remains of Buckingham, and another in Britford church, near
Salisbury, obtained a similar reputation; but sufficient evidence
has been found to shew these were only _monuments_ to his memory,
and no indications, leading to probability, have ever appeared,
to point out the place of the sepulture of the Duke of
Buckingham, till the discovery took place represented in our
frontispiece.

"The Saracen's Head Inn (owing to the peculiar contiguity of the
two places) is supposed to have once formed part of the premises
attached to those of the Blue Boar. The grave, therefore, of the
Duke, was probably made only a few yards, possibly feet, from the
spot where he suffered decapitation. The skeleton was found about
eight inches below the surface of the soil; the spinal column
appeared imbedded in the clay, and on taking up some of the
detached vertebrae, they crumbled to dust in the hands. All the
remains were in a like friable condition."

Commenting on this discovery, Sir R. C. Hoare remarks,--

"The most remarkable circumstance connected with this locality is
the recent discovery of a skeleton, found just under the pavement
in making some alterations in a kind of kitchen or out-house,
belonging to the Saracen's Head, which is close to the site of
the Blue Boar. It was that of a person apparently above the
middle size and had been deprived of the head and right arm. The
workman by whom it was found, omitted to notice whether the bones
of the neck had been separated by a sharp instrument, but could
remember that the bone of the arm appeared to have been cut off,
just below the shoulder, as if by a saw. These remains were
destroyed without proper examination.

"Of itself the discovery would prove nothing, but if the fact of
Buckingham's execution at Salisbury be indisputably established,
we shall not be guilty of too great a stretch of imagination, in
supposing these were his mutilated remains, interred
clandestinely, or, at least, without ceremony, near the spot
where he suffered."

The name of Blue Boar Row is still perpetuated on the south side of the Market Place at Salisbury.

The tomb set up to his memory in Britford church, is in the place of honour, on the north side of the chancel. It is a high-tomb with Purbeck marble cover-stone, but exhibiting no brass indent, or inscription. Below are six canopied niches containing figures:--1. Figure gone.--2. Crowned female saint, with remains of cross (?), probably St. Margaret.--3. A bishop with pastoral staff, and hand raised in benediction.--4. A female saint crowned, St. Katharine with wheel and sword.--5. St. George, with sword, shield, and dragon under his feet.--6. A female saint bearing a pix or shrine, St. Mary Magdalene (?). At the west end are two niches having within them angels holding shields with the bearings sculptured thereon:--1. _A chevron_, evidently for STAFFORD, and 2. _A fess_ (apparently _cotised engrailed_, but perhaps only an ornament introduced by the sculptor), for WIDVILLE, EARL RIVERS. Over the tomb is a detached ogee arched crocketted canopy, with large finial, springing from embattled and pinnacled side buttresses. The canopy is ornamented with vine foliage and fruit; the workmanship of the whole composition is of coarse character. On a modern brass plate affixed above the tomb is this inscription,--

HENRICUS.STAFFORD.DUX.BUCKINGHAM
DECAPITATUS APUD SALISBURI.I.RIC.III.A.D./1483.

It is probable this memento at Britford was erected by the Duke's brother-in-law, Lionel Widville, who was Bishop of Salisbury at the time of Buckingham's execution. Its position outside the city was doubtless adopted to deprecate prominence and discussion at this dangerous era.

The Bishop was the third son of Sir Richard Widville, the first Earl Rivers (so created by Edward IV., in 1466, and who was subsequently beheaded at Northampton, 1467), by his wife Jacqueline of Luxemburg, widow of John Plantagenet, Duke of Bedford. He was brother to Elizabeth, Queen of Edward IV., and so uncle to the unfortunate Princes so relentlessly destroyed by Gloucester, brother also to Katharine, wife of Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, and Anthony, Earl Rivers, executed at Pontefract by Richard III. He held the See two years only, 1482-4, and his death is said to have been accelerated by the fate of his brother-in-law at Salisbury, and the other misfortunes that befell his family during the reign of Richard III.

The tomb assigned to Bishop Widville stands under the first arch of the north aisle of the choir of the Cathedral, leading into the transept.

It is a high altar-tomb, the cover-stone perfectly plain, with indent for inscription on its edge, but the brass has disappeared. Below are traceried panels, with shields in their centres, on which were originally brass escutcheons. Over the tomb is a large and heavy canopy, extending the whole width of the arch of the aisle. The arch of the canopy is depressed, and cusped, with roses on the bosses of the points. The vaulting within is panelled, as are also the side buttresses. The spandrels are traceried with shields in the centres, on which, as on the tomb below, were brasses. The whole composition is of Purbeck marble, and of plain character.

Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, married Katharine, daughter of Richard Widville,--created Earl Rivers by Edward IV., 24 May, 1466, and constituted by that monarch Constable of England,--by his wife Jacqueline of Luxemburg, widow of John Plantagenet, Duke of Bedford, third son of King Henry IV. She was thus sister to Elizabeth, Queen of Edward IV., and so aunt to the unfortunate Princes murdered in the Tower.

By her the Duke had two sons and two daughters. Edward, eldest son, who was restored to all the honours of his father, by Henry VII., and made Constable of England and K.G. He appears to have offended, and, according to Burke, "also excited the enmity of Wolsey," and that ambitious prelate finally succeeded in accomplishing his ruin. Like his father he was doomed to fall by domestic treason, for having discharged one Knevet, a steward, for oppressing his tenantry; that individual became a fit instrument in the hands of Wolsey to effect the object he had at heart. Knevet declared "that the duke had contemplated the assassination of the King, Henry VIII., in order that he might ascend the throne himself as next heir, if his majesty died without issue," and it was further alleged "hee had consulted a monke or wizard, about succession of the crowne."

The Duke made a passionate and indignant denial to this frivolous, yet withal foul charge, but nevertheless he was found guilty and beheaded on Tower Hill, 17 May, 1521. Old Weever says, "he was a noble gentleman, exceedingly much lamented of good men. Of whose death, when the Emperour Charles the fift heard, he said, '_that a Butchers dogge_, (meaning the Cardinall, a butchers sonne) _had deuoured the fairest Buck_ (alluding to the name of Buckingham) _in all England_.' He sometime lay sumptuously entombed in the church of the Augustine Fryers, in London, and the bodies of a hundred more of exemplarie note and degree, but now their bodies are not only despoiled of all outward funerall ornaments, but digged up out of their requietories, and dwelling houses raised in the place, which was appointed for their eternal rest."

Henry, the second son, was created Earl of Wiltshire, 1 Henry VIII., 1509, married first, Margaret, Countess of Wilts, and secondly, Cicely Bonville, Marchioness of Dorset. More of him will be found under the notice of Bonville. He died 6 March, 1523.

Elizabeth, eldest daughter married Robert Ratcliffe, created Lord Fitzwalter, and afterward 28 Dec., 1529, Earl of Suffolk, K.G., and Lord High Chamberlain. He died in 1542.

Anne, married first Sir Walter Herbert, second son of William Herbert, first Earl of Pembroke and K.G. By a singular coincidence this Earl met with his death through the desertion of a Stafford, Humphrey, Earl of Devon, of the Suthwyck in Wiltshire and Hooke in Dorsetshire branch of the family; who withdrew his support at Banbury, and Pembroke was defeated at Danesmore in 1469, and afterward taken to Northampton and beheaded. Secondly, she married George Hastings, first Earl of Huntingdon, of the second creation, who died in 1544, and was buried at Stoke-Pogis. She survived the Earl, and at her death was interred beside him.

The motives that influenced the conduct and actions of Buckingham have been a subject of much speculation among historians, and it is doubtful if any fixed determination or aim lay at the bottom of any of them, beyond the chances or necessities of the passing hour. The social aspect of the age in which he lived exhibited merely a succession of plots for the mastery of ruling for the time being, and almost everyone having station above the ordinary citizen, was by turns embroiled or mixed up in them; while those holding distinguished positions by birth or influence, were almost forced to take active part, with all their consequent perils. Ambition, cruelty, and callous hardness, trampled under foot all the finer feelings of the heart and mind,--hypocrisy and treachery invaded the most sacred ties of home and blood-relationship, the desire of worldly power, and holding their neighbours in the yoke of bondage, was the prevalent feeling, to which all others were sacrificed, and the opposing factions met each other on the field of battle, and fought for the governing power at the sword's point, with the sacrifice of myriads of human lives. At this distance of time it may be asked, what result after all, was effected by this bloodshed that surged through the country for half-a-century? It may be answered, none, beyond letting loose the worst vices that infest humanity, and the consequent retardation of all that tends to civilize the individual.

Amid such a storm of wickedness, strong minds alone had chance to pilot themselves safely through it, and then with much uncertainty, but what would be the fate of weak ones,--vacillating, uncertain, capricious, such as Buckingham was said to possess? Only one in the end, at that era, was reserved for such, and with unsparing revengeful steps it overtook him.

That he was the main instrument of placing the Crown on Gloucester's head, seems to admit of little doubt,--

"The first was I that help'd thee to the crown;
The last was I that felt thy tyranny."

It is equally uncertain what motive influenced his defection from Richard. This has been said to have been Richard's withholding from him the large estates which Buckingham claimed should have descended to him as coheir of Bohun, as a reward for helping him to the Throne, and so did not fulfil the implied promise of the compact. But was this so? Richard may be readily believed to have been bad enough for anything, but was he thus ungrateful to the man, to whom he was indebted more than to any other for attaining his present position?

Upon this point there appears to be considerable doubt. Dugdale, under his notice of Stafford in the _Baronage_, includes the following:--

"Having thus been the principal agent in advancing Richard to the
throne, and thereupon pressing his performance of what had been
privately promised, this new King signed a Bill for Livery of all
those lands unto him whereunto he pretended a right by descent
from Humphrey de Bohun; sometime Earl of Hereford, and Constable
of England. An abstract whereof I have here inserted, together
with a schedule of the Castles and Manors affixed thereto.

"R.R.

"Richard, by the grace of God, King of England, &c. &c. To all,
&c. Know ye, that We, not only considering, that our right
trusty, and right entyrely beloved Cosyn, Henry, Duke of
Buckingham, is Cosyn and Heir of blood to Humphrey Bohun, Earl of
Hereford; and rightful inheritor of such inheritances, as were of
the same late Earl, but also the true, feythful, and laudable
service, the which our seid Cosyn hath in many sundry wises done
unto us, to our right singular wele and plesure. Considering also
and understanding, that the Mannors, Lordships and Lands,
specified in the schedule, hereunto annexed, the which were
parcel of the inheritance of the said Earl, and were chosen and
accepted in purpartie by Harry the fifth, late King of England;
son of Mary one of the daughters and heirs of the said late
Earle; of a partition betwene the same late King, and Anne
daughter of Alianore, another of the daughters and heires of the
sayd late Earle; made by authority of Parliament in the second
year of his reigne; in allowance of other Mannours, Lordships,
Lands, &c., of the like value, allotted and assured in purpartie
to the same Anne, come unto the hands of Edward the fourth, late
King of England, our brother, by virtue of certain act or acts of
Parliament, made against Harry the sixth, deceased without issue;
so that our said Cosyn as true inheritor to the sayd inheritance
in forme abovesayd, should by his death have had and inherited
the said Mannours, Lordships, &c., specifyed in the said
schedule, if the sayd act or acts of Parliament, had never been
made. And also for certain other considerations Us especially
moving, wille and grant unto our sayd Cosyn, that in our next
Parliament to be holden, he shall be surely and lawfully, by act
of Parliament restored, fro' the Feste of Easter last past, to
all the foresaid Mannours, &c., specifyed in the sayd schedule;
and the same have, hold, and enjoy, to him and to his heires,
according to such states and titles, as he should or might have
done, if none act of Parliament had been made against the sayd
King Harry the sixth, touching the sayd Mannours, &c., at any
time since the death of the sayd late Earle. And, that our sayd
Cosyn now forthwith enter into all the same Mannours, and thereof
take the issues, &c., to his own use, fro' the sayd Feast of
Easter, unto the time he be thereto restored by authority of
Parliament, in fourme above remembered; without any account or
other thing yielding unto Us or our heires for the same. And,
that he have the making of all Officers, Gifts, and Benefices,
Wards, and other Profits, &c. In testimony whereof We have set
our Signet, and Sign-Manuell.

"Yoven at our Mannour of Greenwich, 13th of July, of our Reign
the First."

These Manors as enumerated in the schedule were fifty-three in number, lying in nineteen counties, of which "_total sum valoris_, L1084 1_s._ 9_d._" And he further adds,--

"Nay, an author of that time reports (_Chron. MS. Joh. Rous in bibl. Cotton. p. 269._) that he (Richard) gave him all his riches, so that he then made his boast that "he had as many liveries of _Stafford Knots_, as Richard Nevill the late great Earle of Warwick had of _Ragged Staves_."

As we before observed, to attempt to explain or speculate upon the motives that actuated Buckingham in his extraordinary career, would be alike both useless and fruitless. His eagerness and zeal displayed to place Richard on the throne, his consent to, and consequent complicity in the cold-blooded executions of his wife's brothers and their associate at Pontefract, and also of Hastings, together with other heinous transactions, to the prejudice and discomfiture of the nearer tie of his wife's defenceless nephews, appear to have had no very definite purpose as regarded himself, but only exhibited the actions of an unscrupulous partisan and tool for others, the attributes of a weak, contemptible mind. Was he aware of, and did he also assent to, the last and most atrocious of Richard's crimes, the murder of the Princes in the Tower, toward both of whom, the poor boys stood nearly in the same relationship? If so, he was even more vile than Richard, for _he_ had an excuse, ambition, albeit of the most loathsome kind, to offer,--which Buckingham had not, nor indeed any that can be imagined.

This question has, we believe, never been definitely answered, and so we prefer to give Buckingham the benefit of the doubt, and to hope that he did not do so. Although he appears to have excessively disliked the Queen-Mother and her family, and was the chief promoter of the movement to rob her sons of their royal heritage, still there does not appear to be any direct evidence to incriminate him as consenting to their deaths, after circumstances point to the contrary, and he is said to have made use of their inhuman fate, as one of the principal reasons for his desire to dethrone Richard.

The complete confirmation, however, of his weak, unsettled, poorly-ambitious mind, which led to his final defection and action against Richard, was doubtless due to the persuasive powers of his prisoner-guest, the wary, far-seeing, intellectual Morton, in whose hands, with plans carefully prepared, and subtle knowledge of the world and human life, Buckingham would be little more than a child. There is not however much to admire in this ecclesiastic's furtive flight from the custody of his host,--for his enforced sojourn at Brecknock Castle could be called in its conditions but little otherwise than that of a visitor. Then speedily placing himself in a position of safety, he left the seeds of disaffection he found sown in the mind of Buckingham, and which he had carefully nurtured, to ripen into foolish, hasty, miscalculated action, which revealed to Richard truly enough the character of the movement, that was destined in the end to deprive him of his kingdom and his life, but enabled him, as it turned out, easily to send this its first pioneer to the scaffold.

Sufficient stress does not appear to have been laid on this incident, and the influence it probably exercised, connected with the fate of Buckingham. His wretched downfall and unenviable character have consigned him to unpitying oblivion--the fate of many a better, but unsuccessful man,--while the brilliantly fortunate career of his quondam prisoner, has caused this circumstance to be forgotten, or passed over in silence. It is not inferred that Morton originally unsettled Buckingham's mind,--_that_ had taken place before,--but the fact remains he confirmed that unsettledness, pointed out the way in which he could be useful by hostile movement in the western counties, and then took speedy flight beyond seas to Richmond, where he remained in safety from the wrath of Richard, until after the battle of Bosworth.

Buckingham naturally did not want to part with his genial strong-minded prisoner and adviser,--but some excuse must nevertheless be allowed Morton for his hasty exit. He well knew the suspicion Richard had of him, and that king's jealousy of the strength of his ability and influence, which he believed was not loyal toward him, and the Bishop consequently being remitted to the custody of Buckingham. After Morton had tampered with Buckingham, completed his other traitorous negociations against Richard, and when circumstances were rapidly shaping themselves, if not with very defined and concentrated purpose, yet sufficiently large and apparent, as to render a hostile movement against Richard's authority an event of the shortest notice; and having also made full estimate of Buckingham's unreliable character and incapacity, and that no mercy would be meted out to him in such company, should an unsuccessful storm break forth and he fall into the hands of his victor,--which was just what did happen in Buckingham's case,--the first law of nature persuaded him, and he made for a place of safety under the shadow of his idol, there to wait further opportunity to aid, when the course of events afforded it.

John Morton was a west-country man, having been born about 1420, at Bere-Regis, a small market town in central Dorset, where his family had for some time been settled, and were of good standing. He was educated in the Abbey of Cerne, and then entered Balliol College, Oxford, where his proficiency attracted the notice of Cardinal Bourchier. He was successively Rector of St. Dunstan's, London, Prebendary of Wells, Bishop of Ely 1478, Archbishop of Canterbury 1486, Lord-Chancellor 1487, Cardinal of St. Anastasia 1493, and Chancellor of Oxford. But he was much more than this, he was the friend, counsellor, and financier--the last no easy position--to Henry VII., the chief personage both in Church and State, at once Primate and Premier, and the cementer of the union of the rival houses of the Red and White Rose.

The merest glance at Morton's life would involve reference to the principal events of the age in which he lived, and he has been perhaps correctly designated as the foremost Englishman of his time. In their way both Morton and Buckingham were the setters up of kings. Probably the real prompting motive that lay at the bottom of both their minds, and gave force to their action, was much the same,--the consequent advancement, if their efforts succeeded, of their own station and interests. Buckingham accomplished his object, but was disappointed at the result. Then his thoughts turned to substitute another ruler, and by strange circumstance he was thrown into counsel with an individual bent on the same errand, but an infinitely abler and far-seeing man. In this his second design, Buckingham led the forlorn hope and perished; Morton entered the breach with the reserve, after the fortress had been stormed and had capitulated. The motives that actuated these henchmen of kings, as we have said, were doubtless alike, whether fortune led the one to the scaffold, and gave the other the delegated authority of the throne. The White Rose was good enough for Morton until the White Boar became its representative. Then his mind and energies turned to the Red Rose,--the triumph came,--with consummate wisdom he wedded their rival pretensions and extinguished the internecine strife. All now bade for peace, the path of the highest distinction lay before him, he traversed it with the greatest ability and success, and when he died had reached its most exalted eminence, and the dream of his life had been fulfilled.

His death occurred, says Hutchins,--

"at Knole in Kent, 16. cal. Oct. 1500, as the Canterbury
Obituary, or 15. Sep. as the Register, aged 90. By his will dated
16 June, and proved 22 Oct. 1500, he _ordered 1000 marks to be
given in alms at his funeral; his best gilt cross and mitre to
the Church of Ely; to King Henry his best portiforium; to Queen
Elizabeth his best psalter; to Lady Margaret the King's mother, a
round image of the Blessed Virgin of Gold; to Lady Margaret his
god-daughter, and the King's eldest daughter, a cup of gold, &c.,
&c._

"He was buried in the Cathedral of Canterbury, in the crypt,
before the image of the Virgin Mary, called our Lady Under-Croft,
agreeable to his will. Over his stone coffin, which was first
deposited in the ground, was laid a marble, even with the surface
of the pavement, which being broken, several parts of his body
wrapt in cere-cloth, were taken away. At length the head only
remained, which in 1670, Ralph Sheldon of Beoly, Co. Worcester,
begged of Archbishop Sheldon, and at his death in 1684 left it to
his niece. Near his grave, on the south side of the chapel was a
goodly tomb erected to his memory, without any inscription."

The memorial to Cardinal Morton consists of a low altar-tomb on which is his effigy robed in full _pontificalibus_. Six monks, or weepers, three on each side, kneel beside the body. The arch of the canopy above is ornamented on the inner soffit with the _rose crowned, cardinal's hat, portcullis_, and his _rebus, a hawk or mort, on a tun_, alternate; on the outer side with figures in niches. A lily in a pot, between what remains of two figures probably representing the Annunciation, is sculptured in the panel above the feet. The whole, composed of a soft white stone, is in a state of considerable decay, much mutilated, and begrimed with dust and dirt to a sooty hue.

How strange the metamorphosis death often assigns to the claims of fame or station, especially to the memorials set up to them; of this, the tomb and effigy before us furnishes notable example. Here, enveloped in the dark shadows of this crypt, and scarcely discernible, where, unless guided, human foot would scarcely dream of taking its way in search of reminiscence to one so memorable, is the monument of the principal Englishman of his era, who held the highest position in the kingdom ecclesiastically and civilly, a statesman also of the first order, the value of whose influence in settling the great quarrel that had so long distracted his native land, and bringing it peace, can now hardly be estimated.

Broken, tattered, despoiled,--gradually crumbling and decaying,--covered also with the dust and neglect of ages, lies what is left of the outward and visible semblance of John Morton, Prince of the Church, Metropolitan of England, and Lord Chancellor to her King. But a close scrutiny through the gloom shews us the stately lines of his vestments, his broken mitre, his shattered staff, and on them the traces of that sparing but rich ornament, that asserts at once the erstwhile dignity of their wearer when in the flesh,--and typifies with true presentment, the glimpses of his grand character, that now comes back to us so vividly, through depth and dimness of the Past. Even his very dust, carried away piecemeal by the thoughtless wayfarer, adds significant tribute to the greatness of his memory; but the six monks, headless and handless, still remain and kneel by his side, patiently waiting amid the desolation and obscurity for the eternal dawn.