mplice, if Shakspeare is to be credited,
to a bloodthirsty foe. It was so little received that, months afterward,
the convocation of British clergy addressed King Richard thus, 'Seeing
your most noble and blessed disposition in all other things'--so little
received that when Richmond actually appeared in the field, there was no
popular insurrection in his behalf, only a few nobles joined him with
their own forces; and when their treason triumphed, and his rival sat
supreme on Richard's throne, the three pretended accomplices in the
murder of the princes were so far from punishment that their chief held
high office for nearly a score of years, and then perished for assisting
at the escape of Lady Suffolk, of the house of York. And when Perkin
Warbeck appeared in arms as the murdered Prince Edward, and the
strongest possible motive urged Henry VII. to justify his usurpation by
producing the bones of the murdered princes, (which two centuries
afterward were pretended to be found at the foot of the Tower-stairs,)
at least to publish to the world the three murderers' confessions, and
demonstrate the absurdity of the popular insurrection, Lord Bacon
himself says, that Henry could obtain no proof, though he spared neither
money nor effort! We have even the statement of Polydore Virgil, in a
history written by express desire of Henry VII., that 'it was generally
reported and believed that Edward's sons were still alive, having been
conveyed secretly away, and obscurely concealed in some distant region.'

And then the story is laden down with improbabilities. That Brakenbury
should have refused this service to so willful a despot, yet not have
fled from the penalty of disobedience, and even have received additional
royal favors, and finally sacrificed his life, fighting bravely in
behalf of the bloodiest villain that ever went unhung, is a large pill
for credulity to swallow.

Again, that a mere page should have selected as chief butcher a nobleman
high in office, knighted long before this in Scotland, and that this
same Sir Edward Tyrrel should have been continued in office around the
mother of the murdered princes, and honored year after year with high
office by Henry VII., and actually made confidential governor of
Guisnes, and royal commissioner for a treaty with France, seems
perfectly incredible. All of Shakspeare's representation of this most
slandered courtier is, indeed, utterly false; while Bacon's repetition
of the p