ACT III. (1) SCENE II.-Mine ear is open, &c.] "It seems to be the design of the poet to raise Richard to esteem in his fall, and consequently to interest the reader in his favour. He gives him only passive fortitude,-the virtue of a confessor, rather than of a king. In his prosperity we saw him imperious and oppressive; but in his distress he is wise, patient, and pious."-JOHNSON. (2) SCENE II.— For within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king, Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits, Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp.] "Some part of this fine description might have been suggested from the seventh print in the Imagines Mortis, a celebrated series of wooden cuts which have been improperly attributed to Holbein. It is probable that Shakespeare might have seen some spurious edition of this work; for the great scarcity of the original in this country in former times is apparent, when Hollar could not procure the use of it for his copy of the Dance of Death.' DOUCE. An admirable modern illustration of this noble passage, may be seen in J. H. Mortimer's etching of Richard II. in a series of twelve characteristic heads from Shakespeare. (3) SCENE III.-Then I must not say, no.] The interview between King Richard and Bolingbroke, at Flint, is thus narrated by the author of the French Metrical History, who was an eye witness of all that passed. "The Duke entered the castle armed at all points, except his basinet. Then they made the king, who had dined in the donjon, come down to meet Duke Henry, who, as soon as he perceived him at a distance, bowed very low to the ground; and as they approached each other, he bowed a second time, with his cap in his hand; and then the king took off his bonnet, and spake first in this manner: Fair cousin of Lancaster, you be right welcome.' Then Duke Henry replied, bowing very low to the ground, 'My Lord, I am come sooner than you sent for me: the reason wherefore I will tell you. The common report of your people is such, that you have, for the space of twenty or two and twenty years, governed them very badly and very rigorously, and in so much that they are not well contented therewith. But if it please our Lord, I will help you to govern them better than they have been governed in time past.' King Richard then answered him, Fair cousin, since it pleaseth you, it pleaseth us well.' And be assured that these are the very words that they two spake together, without taking away or adding any thing: for I heard and understood them very well. And the earl of Salisbury also rehearsed them to me in French, and another aged knight who was one of the council of Duke Henry. He told me as we rode to Chester, that Merlin and Bede had, from the time in which they lived, prophesied of the taking and ruin of the king, and that if I were in his castle he would show it me in form and manner as I had seen it come to pass. ***** Thus, as you have heard, came Duke Henry to the castle and spake unto the king, to the Bishop of Carlisle, and the two knights, Sir Stephen Scroope and Ferriby; how beit unto the earl of Salisbury he spake not at all, but sent word to him by a knight in this manner, Earl of Salisbury, be assured that no more than you deigned to speak to my lord the duke of Lancaster, when he and you were in Paris at Christmas last past, will he speak unto you.' Then was the earl much abashed, and had great fear and dread at heart, for he saw plainly that the duke mortally hated him: The said Duke Henry called aloud with a stern and savage voice, Bring out the king's horses;' and then they brought him two little horses that were not worth forty franks: the king mounted one, and the earl of Salisbury the other. Everyone got on horseback, and we set out from the said castle of Flint about two hours after mid-day." (1) SCENE I. ACT IV. Lest child, child's children, cry against you-woe!] In the Bishop's bold and animated defence of the rights of kings, Shakespeare followed his favourite historical authority, Holinshed : "On Wednesdaie following, request was made by the commons, that sith King Richard had resigned, and was lawfullie deposed from his roiall dignitie, he might have judgement decreed against him, so as the realme were not troubled by him, and that the causes of his deposing might be published through the realme for satisfying of the people which demand was granted. Whereupon the Bishop of Carleill, a man both learned, wise, and stout of stomach, boldlie shewed forth his opinion concerning that demand; affirming that there was none amongst them worthie or meet to give judgement upon so noble a prince as Richard was, whom they had taken for their sovereigne and liege lord, by the space of two and twentie yeares and more; And I assure you (said he) there is not so ranke a traitor, nor so errant a theef, nor yetso cruel a murthere apprehended or deteined in prison for his offense, but he shall be brought before the iustice to heare his iudgement; and will ye proceed to the iudgement of an anointed king, hearing neither his answer nor excuse? I say, that the duke of Lancaster whom ye call king, hath more trespassed to king Richard and his realme, than king Richard hath doone either to him or us: for it is manifest and well knowne, that the duke was banished the realme by king Richard and his councell, and by the iudgement of his own father, for the space of ten yeares, for what cause ye know, and yet without license of king Richard, he is returned againe into the realme, and (that is worse) hath taken upon him the name, title, and preheminence of king. And therfore I say, that you have doone manifest wrong, to proceed in anie thing against King Richard, without calling him openlie to his answer and defense. As soone as the bishop had ended this tale, he was attached by the EarleMarshall, and committed to ward in the abbeie of saint Albons."-HOLINSHED, 1399. (2) SCENE I. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down The following is the description of the proceedings at Westminster on the occasion of Richard's deposition; from the Metrical History:" "First sat Duke Henry, and next to him the Duke of York, his fair cousin, whose heart was not right faithful towards his nephew, King Richard. After him, on the same side, sat the Duke of Aumarle, the son of the Duke of York; and then the Duke of Surrey, who was ever loyal and true. After him sat the Duke of Exeter, who had no reason to rejoice, for he saw before him preparation made for the ruin of the king, his brother. Early and late this was the wish of them all. Then came another on that side, who was called the Marquess,* lord of a great country. And next the Earl of Arundel, who is right young and active. The Earl of Norvic + next, was not forgotten in the account, neither he of La Marche. There was one who was Earl of Stamford, § and never could agree with his lord, King Richard; on this side also sat one whom I heard called Earl of Pembroke, and a baron. And close to him was seated the Earl of Salisbury, who so faithfully loved the king that he was loyal to the last. The Earl of Devonshire was there, as I heard. All other earls and lords, the greatest in the kingdom, were present at this assembly, their desire and intention being to choose another king. There, in fair fashion, stood the Earl of Northumberland and the Earl of Westmoreland, the whole of the day, and for the better discharge of their duty, they kneeled very often wherefore, or how it was, I cannot tell. 4 "The archbishop of Canterbury next arose, and preached before all the people in Latin. The whole of his sermon was upon this, Habuit Jacob benedictionem a patre suo:How Jacob had gotten the blessing instead of Esau, although he were the eldest son.' This he set forth as true. Alas, what a text for a sermon! He made it to prove, in conclusion, that King Richard ought to have no part in the Crown of England, and that the prince ought to have had the realm and territory. These were very ungrateful people; after they had all held him to be rightful king and lord for two-and-twenty years, by a great error they ruined him with one accord. "When the archbishop had finished his sermon in the Latin language, a lawyer, who was a most sage doctor, and also a notary, arose and commanded silence. For he began to read aloud an instrument which contained how Richard, some time King of England, had avowed and confessed, of his own will, without compulsion, that he was neither capable nor worthy, wise nor prudent, nor gentle enough to bear the crown; and that it was his wish to resign it into the hand of another worthy man of noble birth and greater wisdom than himself. Thus right or wrong, they by agreement caused King Richard to make a declaration in the Tower of London, in a most wicked manner; and then in this parliament read the instrument before all. Its witnesses were bishops and abbots, who affirmed and John Beaufort, eldest son of John of Gaunt, by Catherine Swinford, created, 20 Rich. II., Marquess of Dorset and Somerset. An error of the transcriber; it should. perhaps, be Warwick. There was no Earl of Norwich till the 2d Charles I. testified that the instrument was entirely true. Now consider this testimony: never was such an outrage heard of. "When the reading of the instrument was ended, all kept silence, and the archbishop then rose and took up anew his discourse, laying his foundation upon the instrument aforesaid, and speaking so loud, that he was plainly heard of the people. Forasmuch as it is thus, and that Richard, sometime King of England, hath by his words and of his own goodwill acknowledged and confessed that he is not sufficiently able, worthy, or well skilled to govern the kingdom, it were right good to advise and chuse another king.' Alas! fair sirs, what an evil deed! There were they, judge, and party accusing. It was not a thing justly divided nor of legal right; because there was no man in that place for the old king, save three or four who durst upon no account gainsay them. All that they said or did was the greatest mockery; for, great and small, they all agreed, without any dividing, that they would have a king who better knew how to discharge his duty than Richard had done. And when the archbishop had completely made an end in the English language of declaring his will and his evil intention, and the people had replied according to that which they had heard, he began to interrogate and question each man by himself. 'Will you that the duke of York be your king?' All in good order answered 'No.'-'Will you then have his eldest son, who is duke of Aumarle?' They answered aloud, 'Let no one speak to us of him.' Once more again. he asked, 'Will you then have his youngest son?' They said, 'Nay, truly.' He asked them concerning many others, but the people stopped at none of those that he had named. And then the archbishop ceased to say much. He next inquired aloud, Will you have the duke of Lancaster?' They all at once replied with so loud a voice, that the account which I heard appears marvellous to me, 'Yea, we will have no other.' Then they praised Jesus Christ." Immediately the ceremony of the deposition of Richard is concluded and the deprived King has departed, Bolingbroke announces the day of his own coronation, the ensuing Wednesday. The real day, however, was Monday, and is so set down in Holinshed; and it is therefore difficult to understand how Shakespeare was led into the mistake, unless it were derived from the old play on this part of English History which has never yet been found. The Coronation of Henry IV. took place on the Translation of St. Edward the Confessor, Monday, Oct. 13th, 1399, on which occasion the Court of Claims for services was held with great ceremony. It is remarkable as being the first coronation in which the creation of Knights of the Bath is particularly noticed by historians; though there can be no doubt of the practice having prevailed in much earlier times. Forty-six gentlemen, four of whom were Henry's sons, received the Order at the Tower the day before the festival, and watched there the vigil of the Coronation. In this ceremony the new king's policy appears to have been to make the most imposing display of wealth and magnificence possible, as may be seen in the elaborate account of it given by Froissart. There were six thousand horses employed in the cavalcade which attended Henry to Westminster; and the coronation-feast lasted two days, during which nine conduits of wine were kept flowing in Cheapside. Edmund Mortimer, son of Roger, Earl of March, could not have been more than seven years of age. Query, Stafford. This must be an error, as the last earl had been killed in a tournament at Windsor some years before. ACT V. (1) SCENE I.-You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.] This is not historically correct; in the prose MSS. concerning the deposition of Richard the Second, preserved in the national library of Paris, there is an extremely interesting and characteristic narrative of an interview which took place between the king and Henry of Lancaster while the former was confined in the Tower. These MSS. record that, when the Dukes of Lancaster and York went to the Tower to see the king, Lancaster desired the Earl of Arundel to send the king to them. When this message was delivered to Richard, he replied, "Tell Henry of Lancaster from me, that I will do no such thing, and that, if he wishes to speak with me, he must come to me.' On entering none shewed any respect to the king, except Lancaster, who took off his hat and saluted him respectfully, and said to him; "Here is our cousin, the Duke of Aumarle, and our uncle, the Duke of York, who wish to speak with you;" to which Richard answered, "Cousin, they are not fit to speak to me." "But have the goodness to hear them," replied Lancaster; upon which Richard uttered an oath, and turning to York, Thou villain, what wouldst thou say to me? and thou, traitor of Rutland, thou art neither good nor worthy enough to speak to me, nor to bear the name of duke, earl, or knight; thou, and the villain thy father have both of you foully betrayed me; in a cursed hour were ye born: by your false counsel was my uncle of Gloucester put to death." The Earl of Rutland replied to the king that, in what he said he lied; and threw down his bonnet at his feet: on which the king said, "I am king, and thy lord; and will still continue king; and will be a greater lord than I ever was, in spite of all my enemies." Upon this Lancaster imposed silence on Rutland. Richard, turning then with a fierce countenance to Lancaster, asked why he was in confinement, and why under a guard of armed men. "Am I your servant or your king? What mean you to do with me?" Lancaster replied, You are my king and lord, but the council of the realm have ordered that you should be kept in confinement till full decision (jugement) in parliament." The king again swore; and desired he might see his wife. "Excuse me," replied the duke, "it is forbidden by the council." Then the king in great wrath walked about the room; and at length broke out into passionate exclamations, and appeals to heaven; called them "false traitors,' and offered to fight any four of them; boasted of his father and grandfather, his reign of twenty-two years; and ended by throwing down his bonnet. Lancaster then fell on his knees, and besought him to be quiet till the meeting of parliament, and then every one would bring forward his reason.-See Notes by the Rev. JOHN WEBB, to his Translation of the French Metrical History, &c.; Archwologia, vol. xx. 66 (2) SCENE I.-With all swift speed you must away to France.] At this period, Isabel in reality was a mere child. Upon the deposition of Richard, the French made a formal demand for the restitution of the Queen and part of her dowry, which by the contract of marriage was to be returned in the event of her becoming a widow before she had completed her twelfth year. The negotiations were delayed from the end of November, 1399, to May 27th, 1401, when the treaty for her return was signed at Leulinghen. The account of her return to France is thus related in the Metrical History. "On Tuesday the twenty-fifth day of July, about (the hour of) prime, the queen of the English passed from Dover to Calais, in the year one thousand four hundred and one. I understand she was most grandly attended, for she had in her company some of the greatest ladies of England. When they had landed, Hugueville, who had come over with her, wrote presently of the matter to the ambassadors at Boulogne, how she had made the passage, and that they all purposed to restore her, as they had given him to understand. "On the following Sunday, being the last day of July, the queen set out from Calais without farther delay, together with the English, who could find no right reason for detaining her longer, so often were they reminded by the French. But they brought her straight to Lolinghehen, whither those who had heard the news of it went to meet her; these were the upright Count of Saint Pol, as every one calls him, and with him the ambassadors of France, who had used great diligence that they might behold her again. The queen, indeed, alighted below Lolinghehen at a tent, that the English had handsomely pitched for her in the valley. She was met by the ladies of France, who most heartily desired to see her. Soon after, they set out, it seems, together, and took the queen to the chapel of Lolinghehen; what it is, every one knows who has seen it. And when she had alighted, they made her enter, attended by few persons, except the ambassadors of France and England, who had taken great pains to do this. When they were assembled in the chapel, a knight, who is highly esteemed of the English, Sir Thomas Percy, took up his discourse, saying thus, King Henry, King of England, my sovereign lord on earth, desiring the fulfilment of his promise, hath without reserve and of right pure will, caused us to bring hither my lady, the Queen of England, to render and restore her to her father, loosed, quit, and free of all bonds of marriage, and of every other service, debt, or obligation; and declareth, moreover, that he would most solemnly pledge himself as he took it (or so far as he understood it), that she was as pure and entire as on the day when she was brought in her litter to King Richard. And if there should be any where a king, duke, or earl, christian, or otherwise, great or little, who would deny this, he would, without farther say or any long consultation, find a man of equal rank in England, to maintain this quarrel, and expose his person before any competent judge, in support of all this.' And when he had most sagely declared his pleasure, the Count of St. Pol told him that Jesus Christ should be praised therefore, and that they firmly believed it, without any scruple. Then Sir Thomas Percy, with many tears, took the young queen by the arms, and delivered her with good grace to the messengers there present, and received certain letters of acquittance, which had been promised by the French. And know, that before the two parties separated, they wept most piteously; but when they came to quit the chapel, the queen, whose heart is enlightened by goodness, brought all the English ladies, who made sore lamentations, to the French tents, where they purposed to dine together. So it seems, they did. And after dinner the queen caused a great abundance of very fair jewels to be brought out, and presented them to the great ladies and lords of England, who wept mightily for sorrow; but the queen bade them be of good cheer; and when she was forced to part from them, they renewed their lamenta tion." (3) SCENE II. But heaven hath a hand in these events; To whose high will we bound our calm contents.] On comparing this scene with a parallel passage in Drayton's "Civil Warres," published in 1595, no one can doubt that either Shakespeare had Drayton's version in his mind's eye, or that the latter was indebted to York's magnificent description of the entry of Richard and Bolingbroke into London. We incline to the opinion of Mr. Knight, that the "Civil Warres" was produced and published before Richard II. was written. În Drayton the incident is told as follows: "He that in glory of his fortune sate, Admiring what he thought could never be, The unregarded king; that drooping went. Which th' image of both fortunes doth present: In th' other, worse than worst of all disgrace." (4) SCENE III.-Can no man tell of my unthrifty son?] This speech may be regarded as striking the key-note of the three plays which continue the history of England at this period; and is, as Johnson observes, "a very proper introduction to the future character of Henry the Fifth, to his debaucheries in his youth, and his greatness in his manhood." Shakespeare's authority for thus delineating the Prince, was in all probability either the old play of Richard II. or a passage in Holinshed, which may be better adduced as an illustration in another place. Holinshed has founded his statement "on the authority," as Mr. Hunter points out, "of the chroniclers immediately preceding himself, Fabyan, Polydore Vergil, and Caxton, who wrote while the memory of the Prince's extravagance may well be supposed to have been alive, as they were all writers of his own century. But as this testimony," he adds, "may be regarded as coming late, and it may be thought that they are so far removed from the actual time, that they are in some degree at least copyists from each other, and not wholly independent authorities;" he refers to Henry's own contemporaries, Hardyng, Walsingham, Otterburne, the historian who called himself Titus Livius, and Thomas of Elmham: all of whom notice the vicious life of his youth in connexion with the entire change which took place in him on his accession to the throne. How early Henry became thus dissolute, it is not possible even to conjecture, but Malone's note on this passage is quite worthy of attention. "The Prince," he observes, "was at this time but twelve years old; for he was born in 1388, and the conspiracy on which the present scene is formed, was discovered in the beginning of the year 1400. He scarcely frequented taverns or stews at so early an age:" and it may be noticed that his answer declaring his prowess as a tilter, is that of an inexperienced young champion in his full strength. (5) SCENE V. Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.] The circumstantial detail of the murder of Richard II., as it is represented in the close of this play, was popularly considered, even long after the time of Shakespeare, to be in reality the true history of his death: and down to the present day, the manner in which he came to his end constitutes one of the most interesting Problems of English history. Holinshed is again the principal authority of the dramatist; and his statements are avowedly founded on the report of Abraham Fleming, who was one of the compilers of the series of chronicles collectively called by the name of Holinshed. Fleming derived his information from the "Short History by Thomas of Walsingham, from Edward I. to Henry V." Walsingham appears to record his narrative for the purpose of disproving "the common fame," that the king's death was to be attributed to compulsory famine: and, continues Fleming, "he referreth it altogether to voluntarie pining of himselfe. For, when he heard that the complots and attempts of such of his favourers as sought his restitution, and their own advancement, were annihilated, and the chiefe agents shamefullie executed; he tooke such a conceit at these misfortunes,― for so Thomas Walsingham termeth them-and was so beaten out of heart,-that wilfullie he starved himselfe, and so died in Pomfret Castle." So far as this statement can be received, it is not at all inconsistent with the ordinary account of the murder of Richard, nor with his "desperate manhood," as Holinshed properly calls it, on that occasion; excited as he was by his injuries, and his own fierce selfwill and impetuous disposition. In the termination of the life of the dethroned king, by whatsoever means it was effected,-if the guilty wish for his death, were ever expressed by Bolingbroke as related by Walsingham, and transferred by Fleming into Holinshed; the passage seems not only to have furnished matter for the present play, but also to have suggested almost the very words which Shakespeare has employed in two very noble and well-known parallel passages. The first of these is in " King John," Act III. Scene 1. "Good Hubert, Hubert,-Hubert, throw thine eye On yon young boy :-I'll tell thee what, my friend;- And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, Now, Buckingham, now do I play the touch Young Edward lives-Think now what I would speak!" "One writer," says Holinshed, "which seemeth to have great knowledge of King Richard's doings, saith that King Henrie, sitting on a daie at his table, sore sighing, said, "Have I no faithfull friend which will deliver me of him, whose life will be my death, and whose death will be the preservation of my life?' This saying was much noted of them that were present, and especiallie of one called Sir Piers of Exton." It is added that "this knight incontinentlie departed from the court, with eight strong persons in his companie, fand came to Pomfret;" where the remaining act of the tragedy was suddenly performed. In the Chronicle of Gervase of Dover, relating to the reign of Henry II., 1171, there is a very remarkable historical parallel to this passage, in the passionate expression of that sovereign in reference to the Archbishop Thomas à Becket. The historian states that the king became so enraged beyond the majestic decency of his condition, that he aloud lamented that of all the numbers, both of nobles and others, whom he had maintained, there was not one of them who would undertake to redress his injuries. These and the like complaints of the king so much irritated four knights, that they bound themselves together by an oath, and withdrew from court to execute their design. After the death of Richard, Shakespeare sagaciously shows that the first policy of Bolingbroke was to disclaim any participation in it, as he does even to Exton himself: and here again appears a remarkable similarity between this part of the present play and the speech of King John to Hubert after the supposed murder of Arthur, in the fine passage in Act IV. Scene 2, of that play. Bolingbroke's second and more imposing act of policy was to appear publicly to declare that he was altogether innocent of the death of the late king, by honourably exposing and interring a body affirmed to be that of Richard. Holinshed thus sets down the circumstances of this ceremony:-"After he was thus dead, his bodie was embalmed and cered, and covered with lead, all save the face, to the intent that all men might see him, and perceive that he was departed from life. For, as the corpse was conveied from Pomfret to London, in all the townes and places where those that had the conveiance of it did staie with it all night,-they caused 'Dirige' to be sung in the evening, and masse of Requiem' in the morning; and, as well after the one service as the other, his face, dis-covered, was shewed to all that coveted to behold it. Thus was the corpse first brought to the Tower, and after through the citie to the cathedrall church of saint Paule, bare-faced, where it laie three daies together, that all men might behold it. There was a solemne obsequie done for him, both at Paule's and after at Westminster; at which time both at Dirige over night, and in the morning at Requiem, the king and the citizens of London were present.' Up to this point the remains were treated with great ceremony, but they were next removed to the church of the Friars Predicants at Abbot's Langley in Hertfordshire; where they were obscurely interred by the Bishop of Chester and the Abbots of St. Alban's and Waltham, "none of the nobles," adds Holinshed, "nor anie of the commons-to accompt ofbeing present; neither was there anie to bid them to dinner after they had laid him in the ground, and finished the funerall service." Throughout the whole of these proceedings, as well in the first ostentatious display of a corse, affirmed to have been that of the dethroned monarch, as afterwards,-it seems as if the policy of Bolingbroke might everywhere be traced. After having effected his first object, that of showing, in the most public places, the uninjured body of a person, which is declared by Froissart to have been seen by twenty thousand witnesses;-and after having performed all the principal rites, the rest of the funeral was passed over in silence. There is also the curious evidence of a contemporaneous poetical historian, relating first the exposure of a body said to have been King Richard's, and afterwards the obscure burial of it. In a manuscript copy of John Hardyng's Chronicle, preserved in the Lansdowne Collection, there are the following notices of this funeral : "Sone after that kyng Richerde so was dede, And brought to Paule's with gret solempnite,- The printed editions of the Chronicle differ entirely in the text of this stanza; but the following verse, and the title of the chapter in which they occur, appear to indicate that the author probably thought it more prudent not to declare his having seen the body. He states, however, that when the funeral ceremonies were performed at St. Paul's: "The kynge and lordes clothes of golde there offered, At Westmynster then did they so the same; Hardyng adds, in the title to this chapter, that the body was removed thither "for men should have no remembraunce of him." No part of this narrative indicates any doubt that the remains which had been exhibited were really those of Richard; nor is there any notice of the other reports concerning the cause of his death. The author of the Metrical History of the Deposition, on the contrary, seems not only to have very much doubted the identity of the deceased individual, but also to have disbelieved that the dethroned king was really dead. His narrative of these particulars may be thus rendered in the familiar style and measure of the original : "When the King was these tidings shew'd, So sadly on his heart they sank That never more he ate or drank; But, vanquish'd from that hour, denied This some have said and have received, * * * But I believe not certainly That each one firmly thought he knew That he may take his soul to bliss." The priest Maudelaine, who is mentioned in these verses, had already represented Richard in the conspiracy of the Earls of Rutland and Kent; and he was afterwards taken with many others at Cirencester, and was one of those hanged at London. Hence it was that his body could be so opportunely brought forward as that of the late king; and it is not impossible that Henry might even have indulged in a bitter jest, by so calling the lifeless remains of one who, whilst living, had been really put forward as the royal substitute. Throughout a great part of the reign of Henry IV. the very general belief that Richard was not dead, was a source of the most serious vexation to him; and it is especially remarkable that he should have experienced much of his anxiety from the appearance of other false Richards after Maudelaine, against whom he issued proclamations so late as 1402. The illustration of the removal of the body obscurely interred at Abbot's Langley, with royal honours to Westminster, rightly belongs to the play of Henry V. to which we refer it. But there is one circumstance, arising out of that translation, which may be properly noticed in this place, the opportunity which it afforded of examining some skulls in the royal tomb, by Sir Joseph Ayloffe, Edward King, Richard Gough, and others, in the latter part of the last century; when the skull which was believed to be that of the king did not exhibit any marks of violence. Mr. King states that "a small cleft that was visible on one side, appeared, on close inspection, to be merely the opening of a suture from length of time and decay: and it was beside in such a part of the head that it must have been visible when the visage was exposed, had it been the consequence of a wound given by a battle-axe, it being at the top of what the anatomists call the os temporis. In answer to these arguments it is to be observed, firstly, that the skulls examined were contained in the sub-basement of the tomb, and not in the monument itself, under the effigies, where the royal bodies might be supposed to be laid. Secondly, that only the lower part of the face was uncovered when the remains were carried through London. and the temporal bones were hidden. The rumour of starvation by his keepers, which Holinshed says was the most commonly believed, might have been the cause of the death of Richard; or he might even, as another account states, have remained by his own will too long without food, and then have been unable to receive it, and so have died. A heavy suspicion of the guilt of destroying him must always, however, rest upon the memory of Henry of Boling broke; though at the present time he is commonly believed to have been innocent, and Richard to have expired at Pomfret from purely natural causes. |