in Shakespeare’s masterly scene.  “Postquam filius regis Henrici, cui Domina Anna, minor filia comitis Warwici, desponsata fuit, in prefato bello de Tewkysbury occubuit,” Richard, duke of Gloucester desired her for his wife.  Clarence, who had married the elder sister, was unwilling to share so rich an inheritance with his brother, and concealed the young lady.  Gloucester was too alert for him, and discovered the Lady Anne in the dress of a cookmaid in London, and removed her to the sanctuary of St. Martin.  The brothers pleaded each his cause in person before their elder brother in counsel; and every man, says the author, admired the strength of their respective arguments.  The king composed their differences, bestowed the maiden on Gloucester, and parted the estate between him and Clarence; the countess of Warwick, mother of the heiresses, and who had brought that vast wealth to the house of Nevil, remaining the only sufferer, being reduced to a state of absolute necessity, as appears from Dugdale.  In such times, under such despotic dispensations, the greatest crimes were only consequences of the economy of government.—­Note, that Sir Richard Baker is so absurd as to make Richard espouse the Lady Anne after his accession, though he had a son by her ten years old at that time.

(2) The chronicle above quoted asserts, that the speaker of the house of commons demanded the execution of Clarence.  Is it credible that, on a proceeding so public, and so solemn for that age, the brother of the offended monarch and of the royal criminal should have been deputed, or would have stooped to so vile an office?  On such occasions do arbitrary princes want tools?  Was Edward’s court so virtuous or so humane, that it could furnish no assassin but the first prince of the blood?  When the house of commons undertook to colour the king’s resentment, was every member of it too scrupulous to lend his hand to the deed?

The three preceding accusations are evidently uncertain and improbable.  What follows is more obscure; and it is on the ensuing transactions that I venture to pronounce, that we have little or no authority on which to form positive conclusions.  I speak more particularly of the deaths of Edward the Fifth and his brother.  It will, I think, appear very problematic whether they were murdered or not:  and even if they were murdered, it is impossible to believe the account as fabricated and divulged by Henry the Seventh, on whose testimony the murder must rest at last; for they, who speak most positively, revert to the story which he was pleased to publish eleven years after their supposed deaths, and which is so absurd, so incoherent, and so repugnant to dates and other facts, that as it is no longer necessary to pay court to his majesty, it is no longer necessary not to treat his assertions as an impudent fiction.  I come directly to this point, because the intervening articles of the executions of Rivers, Gray, Vaughan, and Hastings will naturally find their place in that disquisition.