Thus does history prove that, in every instance of Shakspeare's fascinating representations of Henry of Monmouth's practices, the poet was guided by his imagination, which, working only on the vague tradition of a sudden change for the better in the Prince immediately on his accession, and magnifying that change into something almost miraculous, has drawn a picture which can never be seen without being admired for its life, and boldness, and colouring; but which, as an historical portrait, is not only unlike the original, but misleading and unjust in essential points of character.
It has been said, and perhaps with truth, to what extent soever we may believe Shakspeare to have made "Europe ring from side to side" with the vices and follies, the riots and extravagances, of the young Prince, yet that he had spread his fame and glory far more widely, and excited an incomparably greater interest in his character, than history itself, however full, and however true in recording his merits, could have done. The admirer therefore of the Prince's character, who reflects on Shakspeare, is held to be ungrateful to Henry's best benefactor; and, as far as his influence reaches, tends to check the interest excited for the hero of his choice. But, whilst he recalls with grateful reminiscence the enjoyment which he has often drawn himself freely from the same well-head, the Author, in attempting to distinguish between truth and fiction, would on no account damp the ardour with which his countrymen will still derive pleasure from these scenes of "Nature's child;" and he trusts that, whilst he has supplied solid and substantial ground for Englishmen still retaining Henry of Monmouth in their affections, among their favourite princes and kings, his work has no tendency to close against a single individual those sources of intellectual delight, which will be open wide to all, whilst literature itself shall have a place on earth.
CHAPTER XVI.
story of prince henry and the chief justice. — first found in the work of sir thomas elyot, published nearly a century and a half subsequently to the supposed transaction. — sir john hawkins hall — hume. — no allusion to the circumstance in the early chroniclers. — dispute as to the judge. — various claimants of the distinction. — gascoyne — hankford — hody — markham. — some interesting particulars with regard to gascoyne, lately discovered and verified. — improbability of the entire story.
In a little work, not long since published, intended to interest the rising generation in the history of their own country, the preface assigns as the author's reason for not coming down later than the Revolution of 1689, "that, from that period, history becomes too distinct and important to be trifled with." The doctrine involved in the position, which is implied here, that the previous history of our country may be trifled with, is so dangerous to the cause of truth, that we may well believe the sentiment to have fallen from the pen of the author unadvisedly. It is, however, unhappily a principle on which too many, in works of far higher stamp and graver moment, have justified themselves in substituting their own theories, and hypotheses, and descriptive scenes, for the unbending strictness of fact, thus sapping the foundation of all confidence in history. It is not the poet only, and the fascinating author of historical romances, who have thus "trifled with history;" our annalists and chroniclers, our lawyers and moralists, often, no doubt unwittingly, certainly unscrupulously, have countenanced and aided the same pernicious practice. It is frequently curious and amusing to trace the various successive gradations, beginning with surmise, and proceeding through probability onward to positive assertion, each writer borrowing from his predecessor; and then in turn, from his own filling-up of the outline, furnishing somewhat more for another, who supplies at length the whole historical portrait, complete in all its form and colouring. Had the author above referred to not taken to himself practically in the body of his work the indulgence which his latitudinarian principle recognizes in the preface, he would not have so distorted facts in his "story of Madcap Harry and the Old Judge," for the purpose of making a pretty consistent tale,—consistent with itself, but not with the truth of history,—to amuse children in their earliest days, at the risk of misleading them, and giving them a wrong bias through their lives.
In examining the alleged fact of Henry's violence and insults exhibited in a court of justice, there is much greater difficulty than may generally be supposed, in consequence of the entire silence of all contemporary annalists and chroniclers. Not one word occurs asserting it; no allusion to the circumstance whatever is found previously to the reign of Henry VIII, nearly a century and a half after Henry V.'s accession. Hume[325] asserts it on the authority of Hall; and Hall has exaggerated the alleged facts most egregiously, and most unjustifiably. Whether the fact took place, and, if it did, what were the time, the place, and the circumstances, the reader must judge for himself. The present treatise professes only to bring together the evidences on all sides fairly.
It has been already stated that no historian or chronicler, (whose work is now in existence and known,) for nearly one hundred and fifty years, has ever alluded to the transaction. The first writer in whom it is found is Sir Thomas Elliott (or Elyot), who, in a work called The Governour, dedicated to Henry VIII. about the year 1534, thus particularizes the occurrence. Elyot gives no reference to his authority.
"The most renowned Prince, King Henry V. late King of England, during the life of his father, was noted to be fierce and of wanton courage. It happened that one of his servants, whom he well favoured, was, for felony by him committed, arraigned at the King's Bench. Whereof the Prince being advertised, and incensed by light persons about him, in furious rage came hastily to the bar, where his servant stood as a prisoner, and commanded him to be ungyved and set at liberty: whereat all men were abashed, reserved [except] the Chief Justice, who humbly exhorted the Prince to be contented that his servant might be ordered according to the ancient laws of this realm; or, if he would have him saved from the rigour of the laws, that he should obtain, if he might, from the King his father his gracious pardon, whereby no law or justice should be derogate. With which answer the Prince nothing appeased, but rather more inflamed, endeavoured himself to take away his servant. The Judge, considering the perilous example and inconvenience that might thereby issue, with a valiant spirit and courage commanded the Prince upon his allegiance to leave the prisoner and depart his way. With which commandment the Prince being set all in a fury, all chafed and in a terrible manner came up to the place of judgment, men thinking that he would have slain the Judge, or have done to him some damage; but the Judge, sitting still without moving, declaring the majesty of the King's place of judgment, and with an assured and bold countenance, had to the Prince these words following: 'Sir, remember yourself: I keep here the place of the King your sovereign lord and father, to whom ye owe double obedience; wherefore eftsoons in his name I charge you desist of your wilfulness and unlawful enterprise, and from henceforth give good example to those which hereafter shall be your proper subjects. And now, for your contempt and disobedience, go you to the prison of the King's Bench, whereunto I commit you; and remain ye there prisoner until the pleasure of the King your father be further known.' With which words being abashed, and also wondering at the marvellous gravity of that worshipful Justice, the noble Prince laying his weapon apart, doing reverence, departed; and went to the King's Bench, as he was commanded. Whereat his servants disdaining, came and showed the King all the whole affair. Whereat he awhile studying, after as a man all ravished with gladness, holding his hands and eyes up towards heaven abraided, saying with a loud voice, 'O merciful God, how much am I above other men bound to your infinite goodness, specially that ye have given me a Judge who feareth not to minister justice, and also a son who can suffer semblably, and obey justice!'"
Sir John Hawkins,[326] when he cites this passage as evidence of an ebullition of wanton insolence and unrestrained impetuosity, in illustration of the character of Henry, to whom he ascribes the unjustifiable suppression of an act of parliament, lays himself open to blame in more points than one. In the first place, he ought not, as regards the suppression of an act of parliament, to have charged upon Henry, as a self-willed act, what, to say the very least, was equally the act of the whole Privy Council; and then he ought not to have endeavoured to brand him with disgrace on the testimony of a witness who wrote nearly a century and a half after the asserted event.