LIBRARY 
 
 UNtVLP 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 SAN DIEGO j 
 
 presented to the 
 UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 SAN DIEGO 
 
 by 
 
 MRS. FRANK DRUMMOND 
 
 no* 
 Robert Clarke & Co. 

 
 mrcnxa HIE ROSE*. 

 
 THE 
 
 WARS OF THE ROSES; 
 
 OR, 
 
 Stories of tlje Struggle of f)ork cmb 
 ancaster. 
 
 BY J. G. EDGAB, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " HI8TOET FOB BOYS," " THE BOTHOOB OP GKEJLT MEN," 
 ''THE FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN," ETC. 
 
 JHlusiratfons. 
 
 NEW YOKE: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUAB E.
 
 TO 
 MASTER DAVID M'DOWALL HANNAY, 
 
 l)is jBook for Sotjs 
 
 IS, WITH EARNEST PEAYEES FOB HIS WELFARE, INSCRIBED 
 BY HIS GODFATHER, 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 PREFACE, 
 
 MY object in writing this book for boys is to 
 furnish them with a narrative of the struggle 
 between York and Lancaster a struggle which 
 extended over thirty years, deluged England 
 with blood, cost a hundred thousand lives, 
 emasculated the old nobility, and utterly de- 
 stroyed the house of Plantagenet. 
 
 It is generally admitted that no period in 
 England's history is richer in romantic incident 
 than the three decades occupied by the "Wars 
 of the Roses ; but the contest is frequently de- 
 scribed as having been without interest in a po- 
 litical point of view. This idea seems errone- 
 ous. That struggle of thirty years was no mere 
 strife of chiefs, ambitious of supremacy and un- 
 scrupulous as to means. Indeed, the circum- 
 stances of the country were such that no hand 
 would have been lifted against sovereigns 
 whether reigning by Parliamentary or hered- 
 itary right who showed a due respect to an- 
 cient rights and liberties. But the tyranny ex-
 
 ercised, first by the hiinisters of the sixth Hen- 
 ry, and afterward by those of the fourth Ed- 
 ward one influenced by Margaret of Anjou, 
 the other by the Duchess of Bedford, both "for- 
 eign women" was such as could not be borne 
 by Englishmen without a struggle; and evi- 
 dence exists that Richard Neville, in arming 
 the people against these kings, did so to pre- 
 vent the establishment of that despotism which 
 John Hampden and Oliver Cromwell afterward 
 fought to destroy. 
 
 With such impressions as to the origin of the 
 war which, during the fifteenth century, agita- 
 ted England and perplexed Continental rulers, 
 I have, in the following pages, traced the course 
 of events from the plucking of the roses in the 
 Temple Gardens to the destruction of Richard 
 the Third, and the coronation of Henry Tudor, 
 on Bosworth Field. And I venture to hope 
 that a book written to attract English boys of 
 this generation to a remarkable epoch in the 
 medieval history of their country will be re- 
 ceived with favor, and read with interest, by 
 those for whose perusal it is more particularly 
 intended. 
 
 J. G. E.
 
 THE PLANTAGEXETS. xi 
 
 and freedom to the people, formed hostile races 
 into one great nation, and rendered his memory 
 immortal by the laws which he instituted.* 
 
 For the country which the first Edward ren- 
 dered prosperous and free, the third Edward 
 and his heroic son won glory in those wars 
 which made Englishmen, for a time, masters 
 of France. Unhappily, the Black Prince died 
 before his father ; and his only son, who suc- 
 ceeded when a boy as Eichard the Second, de- 
 parted from right principles of government. 
 This excited serious discontent, and led the 
 English people to that violation of " the lineal 
 succession of their monarchs" which caused the 
 Wars of the Eoses. 
 
 Besides the Black Prince, the conqueror of 
 Cressy had by his queen, Philippa the patron- 
 ess of Froissart several sons, among whom 
 were Lionel, Duke of Clarence ; John of Gaunt, 
 Duke of Lancaster ; and Edmund of Langley, 
 
 * "Edward the First hatli justly been styled the English 
 Justinian. For, in his time, the law did receive so sudden 
 a perfection, that Sir Matthew Hale does not scruple to af- 
 firm that more was done in the first thirteen years of his 
 reign to settle and establish the distributive justice of the 
 kingdom than in all the ages since that time put together. 
 . . . It was from this period that the liberty of England 
 began to rear its head." Blnckstone's Commentaries.
 
 xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Duke of York.* Lionel died early ; but John 
 of Gaunt survived his father and eldest broth- 
 er, and was suspected of having an eye to the 
 crown which Ids young nephew wore. No 
 usurpation, however, was attempted. But when 
 John was in the grave, his son, Henry of Bol- 
 ingbroke, returning from an irksome exile, de- 
 posed Eichard, and sent him prisoner to Pon- 
 
 * ' Lionel of Clarence married Elizabeth, daughter of 
 William dc Burgh, Earl of Ulster, and had a daughter, 
 Philippa, wife of Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March. John 
 of Gaunt was thrice married. His first wife was Blanche, 
 heiress of Lancaster, by whoui he had a son, Henry the 
 Fourth, and two daughters Philippa, married to the King 
 of Portugal, and Elizabeth, to John Holland, Duke of Ex- 
 eter. His second wife was Constance, eldest daughter of 
 Peter the Cruel, King of Castile, by whom he had a daugh- 
 ter, Katherine, married to Henry the Third, King of Cas- 
 tile. His third wife was Katherine Swynford, by whom he 
 had two sons Henry Beaufort, Cardinal of St. Euscbius and 
 Bishop of Winchester, and John Beaufort, Earl of Somer- 
 set, ancestor of the dukes who fought in the Wars of the 
 Roses, and of Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond, 
 mother of Henry the Seventh. But both the sons of Kath- 
 erine Swynford were born before wedlock. Edmund of 
 Langley espoused Isabel, second daughter of Peter the Cru- 
 el, and had two sons Edward, Duke of York, who fell at 
 Agincourt, and Richard, Earl of Cambridge, who married 
 Anne Mortimer, daughter of the Earl of March, and left a 
 son. Richard, Duke of York.' 1 Sec Sandford's Genealogical 
 History.
 
 THE PLANTAGENETS. xiii 
 
 tefract Castle, where he is understood to have 
 been murdered. 
 
 On the death of Kichard, who was childless, 
 Henry the Fourth, as son of John of Gaunt, 
 would have had hereditary right on his side, 
 but that Lionel of Clarence had left a daugh- 
 ter, Philippa, wife of Mortimer, Earl of March, 
 and ancestress of three successive earls. Of 
 these, Edmund, the last earl, was a boy when 
 Henry of Bolingbroke usurped the throne ; and 
 his sister, Anne Mortimer, was wife of Richard 
 Plantagenet, Earl of Cambridge, second son of 
 Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. " This 
 was that princely branch," says Sandford, "by 
 the ingrafting of which into the stock of York, 
 that tree brought forth not only White Roses, 
 but crowns and sceptres also." 
 
 Henry the Fourth regarded young March 
 with jealousy, and had him vigilantly guarded. 
 But Henry the Fifth completely won the earl's 
 loyalty, and made him a most zealous adher- 
 ent. March showed no ambition to reign ; 
 and the nation, intoxicated with Agincourt 
 and glory and conquest, cared not an iota for 
 his claims. At the time when the hero-king 
 expired at Vincennes and the Earl of March 
 died in England the dynastic dispute was
 
 xiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 scarcely remembered, and it would never, in 
 all probability, have been revived had the 
 Lancastrian government not become such as 
 could not be submitted to without degradation. 
 It was when law and decency were defied, and 
 when Englishmen were in danger of being en- 
 slaved by a " foreign woman," that they re- 
 membered the true heir of the Plantagenets 
 and took up arms to vindicate his claims.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHATTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE MONK-MONABCH AND HIS MlSLEADEKS IT 
 
 II. TlIE DUKE OP YOEK AND THE KING-MAKER 27 
 
 III. THE CAPTAIN OF KENT 35 
 
 IV. THE RIVAL DUKES 46 
 
 V. THE KING'S MALADY 53 
 
 VI. THE BATTLE OF ST. ALHANS CO 
 
 VII. THE QUEEN AND THE YORKIST CHIEFS 6T 
 
 VTIL THE CITY AND THE COUKT 76 
 
 IX. A YORKIST VICTORY AND A LANCASTRIAN REVENGE 80 
 
 X. THE BATTLE OF NORTHAMPTON 88 
 
 XI. YOKK'S CLAIM TO THE CROWN 94 
 
 XIL THE QUEEN'S FLIGHT AND RETURN 99 
 
 XIII. THE ANJOUITE'S VENGEANCE 105 
 
 XIV. A PLANTAGENET AND THE Troous 118 
 
 XV. BEFORE TOWTON 125 
 
 XVI. TOWTON FIELD 131 
 
 XVII. THE QUEEN IN ADVERSITY 145 
 
 XVIII. THE WOODVTLLES 160 
 
 XIX. THE LANCASTRIANS IN EXILE 174 
 
 XX WARWICK AND THE WOODVILLES 190 
 
 XXI. DESPOTISM, DISCONTENT, AND DISORDER 203 
 
 XXIL THE SIEGE OF EXETER 218 
 
 XXIIL Louis THE CEAFTY 224 
 
 XXTV. " THE STOUT EARL" IN EXILE 232 
 
 XXV. THE EARL'S RETURN AND EDWARD'S FLIGHT 244 
 
 XXVL THE EAEL OF WORCESTER . . 253
 
 xvi CONTEfl 
 
 FA OH 
 
 XXVII. THE BANISHED KING 202 
 
 XXVIII. QUEEN MARGARET'S VOYAGE '-Til 
 
 XXIX. THK BATTI.' i>-' 
 
 XXX, HJCFORK TE\VKI::-:H-:'Y -".''.' 
 
 XXXI. Tiir. FIF.I.T) or TJ 312 
 
 XXXII. THE VII.TOK AND Tiir. V.\N'.irisiiKi> 
 
 XXXIII. WARWICK'S VICK-ADMIRAL. . .' 337 
 
 XXXIV. ESCAPE OF THE Truoss 347 
 
 XXXV. Ai>VKNTi:r.r.s OF JOHN DE VERB 353 
 
 XXXVI. A DUKE IN HAGS 362 
 
 XXXVII. Louis DE BRUGES AT WINDSOS 368 
 
 XXXVIII. THE TREATY OF PICQUIGSY 372 
 
 XXXIX. A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY 
 
 XL. KING EDWARD'S DEATH 390 
 
 XLI. THE DUKE OF GI.OUCESTEF. 396 
 
 XLJI. TIJE PROTECTOR AND THE PP.OTECTORATE 390 
 
 XI.HI. THE USURPATION 415 
 
 XLIV. RICHARD'S CORONATION 420 
 
 XLV. THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER 423 
 
 XLVI. A MOCK KING-MAKER 427 
 
 XLVII. THE COMING MAN 432 
 
 XLVTII. FROM BHITTANY TO Roswoirrn 439 
 
 XLIX. RiciiAr.i> UEFOP.E BOSWOETII 444 
 
 L. BOSWOSTH FIELD 451 
 
 LI. AFTEK BOSWORTH 465 
 
 LH. TUB UNION OF THE Two ROSES 469
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MONK-MONARCH AND HIS MISLEADERS. 
 
 Ox St. Nicholas's Day. in the year 1421, there 
 was joy in the castle of Windsor and rejoicing in 
 the city of London. On that day Katherine de 
 Valois, youthful spouse of the fifth Henry, became 
 mother of a prince destined to wear the crown of 
 the Plantagenets ; and courtiers vied with citizens 
 in expressing gratification that n son had been born 
 to the conqueror of Agincourt an heir to the king- 
 doms of England and France. 
 
 Henry of Windsor, whose birth was hailed with 
 a degree of enthusiasm which no similar event had 
 excited in England, was doomed to misfortune from 
 his cradle. He was not quite nine months old when 
 Henry the Fifth departed this life at Vincennes ; 
 and he was still an infant when Katherine de Valcis 
 forgot her hero-husband and all dignity for the sake 
 of a Welsh soldier with a handsome person and an 
 imaginary pedigree. The young king, however, was 
 the beloved of a thousand hearts. As son of a hero 
 B
 
 IS THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 who had won imperishable glory for England, the 
 heir of Lancaster was regarded by Englishmen with 
 sincere affection ; the legitimacy of his title even was 
 unquestioned ; and the genius of his uncles, John, 
 Duke of Bedford, and Humphrey, Duke of Glouces- 
 ter, under whose auspices the royal boy was crowned 
 in London and Paris, created a feeling of security 
 seldom felt by kingdoms at the beginning of long 
 minorities. 
 
 For a time the aspect of affairs was cheering. 
 At a critical period, however, Bedford expired at 
 Rouen ; and ere long England was distracted by a 
 feud between Gloucester and that spurious son of 
 John of Gaunt, known in history as Cardinal Beau- 
 fort, and as chief of a house which then enjoyed 
 the dukedom of Somerset. Gloucester charged the 
 cardinal with contempt for the laws of the realm ; 
 and the cardinal avenged himself by accusing Glou- 
 cester's duchess of endeavoring to destroy the king 
 by witchcraft, and bani.-hing her to the Isle of Man. 
 It soon appeared that the rivalry between Duke 
 Humphrey and his illegitimate kinsman would in- 
 volve the sovereign and people of England in seri- 
 ous disasters. 
 
 Nature had not gifted Henry of Windsor with 
 the capacity which would have enabled a sovereign 
 to reconcile such foes. Never had the Confessor's 
 crown been placed on so weak a head. Never had
 
 GLOUCESTER AND BEAUFORT. 19 
 
 the Conqueror's sceptre been grasped by so feeble a 
 hand. The son of the fifth Henry was more of a 
 monk than a monarch, and in every respect better 
 qualified for the cloister than for courts and camps. 
 In one respect, however, the king's taste was not 
 monastic. Notwithstanding his monkish tendencies 
 he did not relish the idea of celibacy ; and the rival 
 chiefs, perceiving his anxiety to marry, cast their 
 eyes over Europe to discover a princess worthy of 
 enacting the part of Queen of England. 
 
 Gloucester was the first to take the business in 
 hand. Guided at once by motives of policy and 
 patriotism, he proposed to unite his nephew to a 
 daughter of the Count of Armagnac ; and he trust- 
 ed, by an alliance, to allure that powerful French 
 noble to the English interest. The king did not 
 object to the Armagnac match. Before striking a 
 bargain, however, he felt a natural desire to know 
 something of the appearance of his future spouse ; 
 and with this view he employed a painter to furnish 
 portraits of the count's three daughters. Before 
 the portraits could be executed circumstances put 
 an end to the negotiations. In fact, the dauphin, 
 as the English still called the seventh Charles of 
 of France, having no reason to regard the proposed 
 marriage with favor, placed himself at the head of 
 an army, seized upon the count and his daughters, 
 and carried them off as prisoners of state.
 
 20 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Meanwhile, Beaufort was not idle. Eager to 
 mortify Gloucester and increase his own influence, 
 the aged cardinal was bent on uniting the king to 
 Margaret of Anjou, daughter of Rene of Provence, 
 and niece of the French monarch. Rene, indeed, 
 though titular sovereign of Jerusalem and the two 
 Sicil ies, waspoor, and Margaret, albeit the Carlo- 
 vingian blood flowed in her vein?, was portionlc.-.-. 
 But, though not favored by fortune, the Provencal 
 princess was richly endowed by nature ; and, young 
 as she was, the unrivaled beauty and intellect of 
 King Rene's daughter had made her name familiar 
 in France and famous ii, England. 
 
 Never was intriguer more successful than Beau- 
 fort. While Gloucester was negotiating with the 
 Count of Armagnac, the cardinal, aware of Mar- 
 garet's charms, contrived to have a likeness of the 
 princess transmitted to the court of England ; and 
 the young king became so enamored of the fail- 
 being whom the portrait represented that his wish 
 to espouse her could not decently be combated. 
 Matrimonial negotiations were therefore resolved 
 on ; and William de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, was 
 sent as embassador to bring home the prim 
 Rene drove a hard bargain. Before consenting to 
 the marriage he insisted on the restoration of Mainl- 
 and Anjou, which were among the Continental con- 
 quests that the English were in no humor to sur-
 
 MARGARET OF ANJOU. 21 
 
 render. But Suffolk, who was thinking more of his 
 own interests than of his country's honor, yielded 
 without scruple ; and the marriage of King Rene's 
 daughter was made the basis of a treaty which could 
 not fail to prove unpopular. At first, however, no 
 complaint was uttered. Suffolk brought the royal 
 bride to England, and declared, in allusion to her 
 poverty, that her beauty and intellect were worth 
 more than all the gold in the world. 
 
 One day in April, 1445, the marriage of Henry 
 of Windsor and Margaret of Anjou was solemnized 
 at the Abbey of Tichfield the bridegroom being in 
 his twenty-fourth, the bride in her sixteenth year. 
 The religious ceremony having been performed, the 
 wedded pair were conducted to the capital of their 
 dominions, and the English, being then devotedly 
 loyal, were prepared to welcome the spouse of 
 young Henry to London with an enthusiasm which 
 could hardly fail to intoxicate so young a princess. 
 The nobles, displaying all the pride and pomp of 
 feudalism, wore the queen's badge in honor of her 
 arrival. At Greenwich, Gloucester, as first prince 
 of the blood, though known to have been averse to 
 the match, paid his respects, attended by five hund- 
 red men, dressed in her livery. At Blackheath ap- 
 peared the mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs of Lon- 
 don, arrayed in scarlet robes, and mounted on horse- 
 back, to escort her through Southwark into the city.
 
 22 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ing under triumphal arches to Westminster, she 
 was crowned in the Abbey ; and that ceremony was 
 the occasion of general rejoicing. The shows, the 
 pageants, the tournaments, the display of feudal ban- 
 ners by the nobles, and loud applause of the popu- 
 lace might well have led the royal pair to prognos- 
 ticate a life of peace and happiness. Nobody, who 
 witnessed the universal joy, could have supposed 
 that England was on the eve of the bloodiest dynas- 
 tic struggle recorded in her history. 
 
 In fact, the people of England, knowing nothing 
 of the restitution of Maine and Anjou, were at first 
 delighted with their queen, and enraptured with 
 her beauty. Her appearance was such as could 
 hardly fail to please the eye and touch the heart. 
 Imagine a princess in her teens, singularly accom- 
 plished, with a fair complexion, soft, delicate fea- 
 tures, bright, expressive eyes, and golden hair flow- 
 ing over ivory shoulders ; place a crown upon her 
 head, which seemed to have been formed to wear 
 such a symbol of power ; array her graceful figure 
 in robes of state, and a mantle of purple fastened 
 with gold and gems ; and you will have before 
 your mind's eye the bride of Henry of Windsor, as 
 on the day of her coronation she appeared among 
 peers and prelates and high-born dames in the Ab- 
 bey of Westminster. 
 
 Unfortunately for Margaret of Anjou, her pru-
 
 DEATH OF DUKE HUMPHREY. 23 
 
 dence and intelligence were not equal to her wit 
 and beauty. Ere two years passed the popularity 
 she enjoyed vanished into empty air ; but she was 
 a woman of defiant courage, and far from taking 
 any pains to regain the affections of the people, she 
 openly manifested her dislike of Gloucester, who 
 was their favorite and their idol. Indeed, the young 
 queen never could forgive the duke's opposition to 
 her marriage ; and she listened readily to the coun- 
 sels of Beaufort and Suffolk, who, in the spring of 
 1447, resolved, at all hazards, to accomplish his 
 ruin. 
 
 "With this view, a parliament was summoned to 
 meet at Bury St. Edmunds ; and Gloucester, sus- 
 pecting no snare, rode thither, with a small retinue, 
 from the castle of Devizes. At first, nothing oc- 
 curred to raise his apprehension ; but, in a few days, 
 to his surprise, he found himself arrested by the 
 Constable of England, on the charge of conspiracy 
 to murder the king and seize the crown. 
 
 Gloucester was never brought to trial ; and it 
 was said that Suffolk and the cardinal, finding that 
 every body ridiculed the charge of conspiracy, 
 caused "The Good Duke" to be assassinated. Ap- 
 pearances rather strengthened the popular suspicion. 
 One evening, about the close of February, Glou- 
 cester was in perfect health : next morning he was 
 found dead in bed. The indecent haste with which
 
 :>4 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Suffolk seized upon the duke's estates was com- 
 mented on with severity; and Margaret of Anjou 
 shared the suspicion that had been excited. 
 
 The cardinal did not long survive the man who 
 was believed to have been his victim. Early in the 
 month of April, Beaufort died in despair, bitterly 
 reproaching his riches, that they could not prolong 
 his life ; and Suffolk, now without a rival, so con- 
 ducted himself as to incur the perfect hatred of the 
 nation. The English people had a peculiar aver- 
 sion to favorites, and remembered that, while weak 
 sovereigns, like the third Henry and the second 
 Edward, had been ruined by such creatures, great 
 kings, like the first and third Edward, had done ex- 
 cellently well without them. Suffolk was every day 
 more and more disliked; and in 1449 his unpopu- 
 larity reached the highest point. 
 
 The position of Suffolk now became perilous. 
 Impatient at their Continental reverses, and exas- 
 perated at the loss of Rouen, the people exhibited a 
 degree of indignation that was overwhelming, and 
 the duke, after being attacked in both houses of 
 Parliament, found himself committed to the Tower. 
 When brought to the bar of the Lords, Suffolk, 
 aware of his favor at court, threw himself on the 
 mercy of the king ; and, every thing having been ar- 
 ranged, the lord chancellor, in Henry's name, sen- 
 tenced him to five years' banishment. The peers
 
 FATE OF A FAVORITE. 25 
 
 protested against this proceeding as unconstitution- 
 al ; and the populace were so furious at the idea 
 of the traitor escaping, that, on the day of his lib- 
 eration, they assembled in St. Giles's Fields to the 
 number of two thousand, with the intention of 
 bringing him to justice. But Suffolk evaded their 
 vigilance, and, at Ipswich, embarked for the Conti- 
 nent. 
 
 On the 2d of May, 1450, however, as the ban- 
 ished duke was sailing between Dover and Calais, 
 he was stopped by an English man-of-war, described 
 as the Nicholas of the Tower, and ordered to come 
 immediately on board. As soon as Suffolk set foot 
 on deck, the master of the Nicholas exclaimed, 
 '- Welcome, traitor ;" and, for two days, kept his 
 captive in suspense. On the third day, however, 
 the duke was handed into a cock-boat, in which 
 appeared an executioner, an axe, and a block ; and 
 the death's-man, having without delay cut off the 
 head of the disgraced minister, contemptuously cast 
 the headless trunk on the sand. 
 
 While England's sufferings, from disasters abroad 
 and discord at home, were thus avenged on the 
 queen's favorite, the king was regarded with pity 
 and compassion. Henry, in fact, was looked upon 
 as the victim of fate ; and a prophecy, supposed to 
 have been uttered by his father, was cited to ac- 
 count for all his misfortunes. The hero-king, ac-
 
 26 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 cording to rumor, had, on hearing of his son's birth 
 at "Windsor, shaken his head, and remarked pro- 
 phetically, " I, Henry of Monmouth, have gained 
 much in my short reign ; Henry of Windsor shall 
 reign much longer, and lose all. But GOD'S will 
 be done." 
 
 Margaret of Anjou shared her favorite's unpopu- 
 larity ; and, when she reached the age of twenty, 
 the crown which had been placed on her head amid 
 so much applause became a crown of thorns. Ex- 
 asperated at the loss of their Continental conquests, 
 Englishmen recalled to mind that she was a kins- 
 woman and protegee of the King of France ; and 
 when it was known that, to secure her hand for 
 their sovereign, Maine and Anjou had been surren- 
 dered, sturdy patriots described her as the cause of 
 a humiliating peace, and, with bitter emphasis, de- 
 nounced her as "The Foreign Woman." 
 
 These men were not altogether unreasonable. 
 In fact, the case proved much worse for England 
 than even they anticipated ; and, ere long. France 
 was gratified with a thorough revenge on the foe 
 by Avhom she had been humbled to the dust, from 
 having placed on the Plantagenets' throne a princess 
 capable, by pride and indiscretion, of rousing a civil 
 war that ruined the Plantagenets' monarchy.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE DUKE OF YORK AND THE KING-MAKER. 
 
 WHEN Suffolk fell a victim to the popular indig- 
 nation, Eichard, Duke of York, first prince of the 
 blood, was governing Ireland, with a courage wor- 
 thy of his high rank, and a wisdom worthy of his 
 great name. Indeed, his success was such as much 
 to increase the jealousy with which the queen had 
 ever regarded the heir of the Plantagenets. 
 
 York was descended, in the male line, from Ed- 
 mund of Langley, fifth son of the third Edward, 
 and was thus heir-presumptive to the crown which 
 the meek Henry Avore. But the duke had another 
 claim, which rendered him more formidable than, as 
 heir-presumptive, he would ever have made himself; 
 for, through his mother, Anne Mortimer, daughter 
 of an Earl of March, he inherited the blood of 
 Lionel of Clarence, elder brother of John of Gaunt, 
 and, in this way, could advance claims to the En- 
 glish crown, which, in a hereditary point of view, 
 were infinitely superior to those of the house of 
 Lancaster. 
 
 Richard Plantagenet was nearly ten years older 
 than King Henry. He first saw the light in 1412 ;
 
 28 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 and, when a mere child, became, by the execution 
 of his father, the Earl of Cambridge, at Southamp- 
 ton, and the fall of his uncle, the Duke of York, at 
 Agincourt, heir of Edmund of LangU'y. His fa- 
 ther's misfortune placed Kichard, for a lime, under 
 attainder; but after the accession of Henry the 
 dignitii-s of the house of York were restored; and 
 in 1424, on the death of Edmund, last of the Earls 
 of March, the young Plantagenet succeeded to the 
 feudal power of the house of Mortimer. 
 
 An illustrious pedigree and a great inheritance 
 rendered York a most important personage ; and, 
 as years passed over, he was, by Gloucester's influ- 
 ence, appointed Regent of France. In that situa- 
 tion the duke bore himself like a brave leader in 
 war and a wise ruler in peace ; but, as it was fear- 
 ed that he would obstruct the surrender of Maine 
 and Anjou. he was displaced by Suffolk, and suc- 
 ceeded by the Dnkc of Somerset, who, it was well 
 known, would be most accommodating. 
 
 When York returned to England, the queen, not 
 relishing a rival so near the throne, determined to 
 send him out of the way. She, therefore, caused 
 the duke to be appointed, for ten years, to, the gov- 
 ernment of Ireland, and then dispatched armed men 
 to seize him on the road and imprison him in the 
 castle of Con way. York, however, was fortunate 
 enough to escape the queen's snares ; and, reaching
 
 THE DLKE'S POPULARITY. 29 
 
 Ireland in safety, he not only gave peace to that 
 country, but, by his skillful policy, won much favor 
 among the inhabitants. 
 
 Time passed on ; and the disappearance of Suf- 
 folk, of Beaufort, of Gloucester, and of Bedford from 
 the theatre of affairs opened up a new scene. As 
 minister of the king and favorite of the queen, Beau- 
 fort and Suffolk were succeeded by Somerset; as 
 first prince of blood and hero of the people, Bedford 
 and Gloucester were succeeded by York. More- 
 over, the absence of the duke from the country 
 caused much discontent. " If," said the people, " he 
 who brought the wild, savage Irish to civil fashions 
 and English urbanity once ruled in England, he 
 would depose evil counselors, correct evil judges, and 
 reform all unamended matters." 
 
 Firmly established the house of Lancaster then 
 was; but York had friends sufficiently powerful to 
 make him a formidable rival to any dynasty. In 
 youth he had married Cicely, daughter of Ralph 
 Neville, first Earl of Westmoreland ; and, of all the 
 English magnates of the fifteenth century, the Nev- 
 illes, who drew strength at once from an illustrious 
 Saxon origin and distinguished Norman alliances, 
 were by far the most powerful and popular. 
 
 The Nevilles derived the descent, in the male line, 
 from the Anglo-Saxon Earls of Northumberland. 
 Their ancestor, Cospatrick, figured in youth at the
 
 30 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 court of Edward the Confessor, and. ivlishing nei- 
 ther the sway of Harold the Usurper, nor of William 
 the Conqueror, passed most of his life in adversity 
 and exile. After much suffering he died at Nor- 
 ham, on the south bank of the Tweed, and left two 
 sons, who were more fortunate. One of these found- 
 ed the house of Duubar, whose ducts for hundreds 
 of years flourished with honor and renown ; the 
 other was grandfather of Robert Fitzmaldred, who 
 married the heiress of the Nevilles, and \vas progeni- 
 tor of that proud family, whose seat was long at 
 Raby. About the beginning of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury the house of Dunbar fell, and groat was the fall 
 thereof. About the beginning of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury the Nevilles attained to the earldom of West- 
 moreland, and to a point of grandeur unrivaled 
 among the nobles of England. 
 
 Among the chiefs of the house of Neville, Ralph, 
 first Earl of Westmoreland, was one of the most im- 
 portant. His possessions were so extensive that, be- 
 sides the castle of his Anglo-Saxon ancestors and 
 those of Brancepath, Middleham, and Sheriff Hut- 
 ton, inherited through Norman heiresses of great 
 name, he possessed about fifty manor-houses ; and 
 his feudal following was so grand that, at times, he 
 assembled in the great hall at Raby no fewer than 
 seven hundred knights, who lived on his lands in time 
 of peace, and followed his banner in war. Even the
 
 THE NEVILLES. 31 
 
 earl's children were more numerous than those of 
 his neighbors. He was twice married ; and the 
 Duchess of York, known among northern men as 
 " The Rose of Raby," was the youngest of a family 
 of twenty-two. John Neville, Ralph's eldest son by 
 his first countess, was progenitor of those chiefs who, 
 as Earls of Westmoreland, maintained baronial rank 
 at Raby, till one of them risked and lost all in the 
 great northern rebellion against Elizabeth. Richard 
 Neville, Ralph's eldest son by his second countess, 
 obtained the hand of the heiress of the Montagues, 
 and with her hand their earldom of Salisbury and 
 their vast possessions. 
 
 In the Continental wars and domestic struggles 
 in which Englishmen indulged during the fifteenth 
 century, Salisbury was recognized as a man of mil- 
 itary prowess and political influence. But almost 
 ere reaching middle age his fame grew pale before 
 that of his eldest son, Richard Neville, who espoused 
 the heiress of the Beauehamps, who, in her right, 
 obtained the earldom of Warwick, and who, as time 
 passed on, became celebrated throughout Europe as 
 the king-maker. 
 
 At the name of " The Stout Earl," as the people 
 of England proudly called him, the fancy conjures 
 up a mail-clad man of the tallest stature and the 
 most majestic proportions ; with dark brown hair 
 clustering over a magnificent head, resting firmly
 
 32 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 and gracefully on mighty shoulders ; a broAv marked 
 with thought, perhaps not without traces of care; a 
 complexion naturally fair, but somewhat bronzed by 
 exposure to the sun and wind ; a frank and open 
 countenance lighted up with an eye of deep blue, 
 and reflecting the emotions of the soul, as clouds 
 are reflected in a clear lake ; and a presence so no- 
 ble and heroic that, compared with him, the princes 
 and peers of our day would sink into utter insignifi- 
 cance. Unfortunately, no portrait capable of con- 
 veying an adequate idea of Warwick's appearance 
 exists for the instruction of our generation ; but 
 traditions and chronicles lead to the conclusion 
 that, if a Vandyke or a Reynolds had existed in the 
 fifteenth century to transmit to posterity the king- 
 maker as, in form and feature, he appeared to his 
 contemporaries in Westminster Hall, in Warwick 
 Castle, or on Towton Field, such a portrait, by such 
 an artist, would not belie our conceptions as to the 
 personal grandeur of the warrior-statesman of medi- 
 aeval England. 
 
 But, however that might be, Warwick was the 
 hero of his own times. From early youth he was 
 in great favor with the people ; and, as years passed 
 on, his frankness, affability, sincerity, love of justice, 
 and hatred of oppression endeared him to their 
 hearts. In an age of falsehood and fraud, his word 
 was never broken nor his honor tarnished. Even 
 the lofty patrician pride, which rendered him an
 
 THE KING-MAKER. 33 
 
 object of mingled awe and envy to the Woodvilles, 
 the Howards, and the Herberts, recommended him 
 to the multitude ; for the new men, whom the de- 
 scendant of Cospatrick Avould not recognize as his 
 peers, were the instruments used by despotic sover- 
 eigns to grind the faces of the poor. Moreover, 
 Warwick's patriotism was ardent; and the nation 
 remarked with gratification, that " The Stout Earl" 
 was animated by all those English sympathies which, 
 banished from courts and parliaments, still found a 
 home in cottage and in grange. 
 
 Besides being the most patriotic, Warwick had the 
 good fortune to be the richest, of England's patri- 
 cians ; and his immense revenues were expended in 
 such a way that his praise as the people's friend was 
 ever on the tongues of the poor and needy. His 
 hospitality knew no bounds. The gate of his man- 
 sion in London stood open to all comers ; eix oxen 
 were usually consumed at a breakfast ; no human 
 being was sent hungry away ; and every fighting 
 man had the privilege of walking into the kitchen 
 and helping himself to as much meat as could be 
 carried away on the point of a dagger. At the same 
 time, thirty thousand persons are said to have feast- 
 ed daily at the earl's mansions and castles in vari- 
 ous parts of England. 
 
 And it was not merely as a patriot and a popular 
 patrician that Richard Neville was distinguished, for 
 C
 
 34 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 great was his renown as a warrior and a statesman. 
 On fields of fight his bearing reminded men of the 
 Paladins of romance ; and when he broke, sword in 
 hand, into foemen's ranks, the cry of "A Warwick ! 
 A Warwick !" did more service to his friends than 
 could the lances of five hundred knights. While 
 Warwick's martial prowess made him the idol of 
 the soldiery, his capacity for affairs secured him gen- 
 eral confidence and admiration. " The Stout Earl," 
 said the people, " is able to do any thing, and with- 
 out him nothing can be done well." 
 
 With such a friend as Warwick in England the 
 Duke of York doubtless felt secure that his heredi- 
 tary claims were in little danger of being quite for- 
 gotten during his absence. The duke was in Ire- 
 land, when an incident, immortalized by Shakspeare, 
 gave life and color to the rival factions. One day 
 a violent dispute as to the rights of the houses of 
 York and Lancaster took place in the Temple Gar- 
 dens. The disputants, " The Stout Earl" and the 
 Duke of Somerset, appealed to their friends to take 
 sides in the controversy ; but these, being the barons 
 of England, declined to enter upon such " nice sharp 
 quillets of the law." ' Warwick thereupon plucked 
 a white rose, and Somerset a red rose ; and each 
 asked his friends to follow his example. Thus orig- 
 inated the badges of the chiefs who involved En- 
 gland in that sanguinary struggle celebrated by po- 
 ets and chroniclers as the Wars of the Roses.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN OF KENT. 
 
 IN the summer of 1450 there was a ferment 
 among the commons of Kent. For some time, in- 
 deed, the inhabitants of that district of England 
 had been discontented with the administration of 
 affairs ; but now they were roused to action by 
 rumors that Margaret of Anjou, holding them re- 
 sponsible for the execution of Suffolk, had vowed 
 revenge ; that a process of extermination was to be 
 forthwith commenced ; and that the country, from 
 the Thames to the Straits of Dover, was to be con- 
 verted into a hunting-forest for the queen and her 
 favorite?. 
 
 About the middle of June, while the indignation 
 of the Kentishmen was at its height, a military 
 adventurer, who has since been known as "Jack 
 Cade," but who called himself John Mortimer, and 
 gave out that his mother was a Lacy, suddenly ap- 
 peared among the malcontents, informed them that 
 he was related to the Duke of York, and offered to 
 be their captain. According to the chroniclers, he 
 was "a young man of goodly stature, and pregnant 
 wit," and he told his story so plausibly, that the
 
 36 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 men of Kent believed he was York's cousin. De- 
 lighted with the notion of having found a Mortimer 
 to lead them to battle, and to free them from op- 
 pression, the people crowded by thousands to his 
 standard ; and Cade, having assumed the title of 
 Captain of Kent, arrayed them in good order, 
 marched toward London, and encamped on Black- 
 heath. 
 
 The men of Kent were not foes to be des]>i~c<l. 
 They had ever claimed the privilege of marching in 
 the van of England's army, and had so borne them- 
 selves on fields of fight, that their courage was be- 
 yond dispute. The determined spirit by which 
 they were known to be animated rather daunted 
 the court; and the king, in alarm, sent to ask why 
 they had left their homes. Cade replied in a man- 
 ner at which a government owing its existence to a 
 revolution had little reason to take umbrage. He 
 sent a document, entitled " Complaint of the Com- 
 mons of Kent," containing a statement of griev- 
 ances, demanding speedy redress, and requesting, 
 in respectful language, the dismissal of the cpjrupt 
 men by whom the king was surrounded, and tin 1 
 recall of " the Duke of York, late exiled from the 
 royal presence." 
 
 The queen and her friends saw that something 
 must be done, and that quickly. An army AMIS, 
 therefore, levied in the king's name ; and, at the
 
 CADE'S VICTORY AT SEVENOAKS. 37 
 
 head of it, Henry advanced to Blackheath ; but 
 Cade, wishing to draw the royal force into Kent, 
 broke up his camp and retreated to the quiet old 
 market-town of Sevenoaks. The queen, doubtless 
 somewhat surprised at the storm she had raised, 
 dreaded the possibility of the king being environed 
 by the insurgents. She, therefore, deputed the 
 danger of encountering Cade to a gallant knight 
 named Humphrey Stafford, and, having done so, 
 retired to Greenwich. 
 
 On receiving the queen's commands, Stafford, and 
 some of the court gallants, put on their rich armor 
 and gorgeous surcoats, mounted their horses, and, 
 with a detachment of the royal army, dashed off to 
 engage the insurgents, all eagerness, as it seemed, to 
 bring back the leader's head as a trophy. On com- 
 ing up with the foe, however, the ardor of the gay 
 warriors rapidly cooled ; for, in posting his troops 
 in Sevenoaks Wood, the Captain of Kent had made 
 his dispositions with such masterly skill, that the 
 insurgents felt high confidence, and presented a for- 
 midable front. Nevertheless, Stafford did not shrink 
 from an encounter. Boldly dashing onward, he at- 
 tacked the Kentishmen in their strolig-hold. His 
 courage, however, was of no avail. At the very on- 
 slaught, he fell in front of his soldiers ; and they, 
 fighting with no good- will, allowed themselves to be 
 easily defeated.
 
 38 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Proud of his victory, the Captain of Kent array- 
 ed himself in Stafford's rich armor, advanced toward 
 London, encamped once more on Blackheath, and 
 threatened to attack the metropolis. His success 
 had rendered him so popular a hero, that the Kent- 
 i.-hmen, under the delusion that all abuses were to 
 be reformed, called him ' ; Captain Mendall ;" and 
 the inhabitants of Surrey and Sussex, catching the 
 enthusiasm, crowded to his camp. 
 
 Margaret of Anjou had now cause for serious 
 alarm. The royal army could no longer be relied 
 on. Already many of the soldiers had deserted, and 
 those who remained were asking, with indignation, 
 why the Duke of York was not recalled. Aware of 
 all this, the king deputed Humphrey Stafford, first 
 Duke of Buckingham, a popular favorite, and a 
 prince of the blood, to repair to Cade's camp, and 
 expostulate with the rebels. The captain received 
 the duke with all due respect, but declared that the 
 insurgents could not lay down their arms, unless the 
 king would hear their complaints in person, and 
 pledge his royal word that their grievances should 
 be redressed. 
 
 When Buckingham returned with Cade's answer 
 to Greenwich, there was yet time for Henry to save 
 his regal dignity. Had he been capable of laying 
 aside his saintly theories for a few hours, bracing on 
 his armor, mounting his steed, and riding forth with
 
 THE KING'S FLIGHT TO KENILWORTH. 39 
 
 words of courage and patriotism on his lips, he might 
 have won back the hearts of his soldiers, and either 
 scattered the insurgent army by force, or dissolved 
 it by persuasion. To do this, a king of England did 
 not require the animal courage of a Caeur de Lion, 
 or the political genius of an English Justinian. Any 
 of Henry's predecessors, even the second Edward or 
 the second Richard, could have mustered spirit and 
 energy sufficient for the occasion. But the monk- 
 monarch, having neither spirit nor energy, quietly 
 resigned himself to his fate ; and the queen, terrified 
 at the commotion her imprudences had raised, dis- 
 banded the royal army, charged Lord Scales to keep 
 the Tower, and, leaving London to its fate, departed 
 with her husband to seek security in the strong cas- 
 tle of Kenihvorth. There was quite as little dis- 
 cretion as dignity in the king's precipitate retreat. 
 The most devoted adherents of the Red Rose might 
 well despair of the house of Lancaster standing long, 
 when they heard that the son of the conqueror of 
 Agincourt had fled before the ringleader of a rabble. 
 Not slow to take advantage of the king's absence, 
 the Captain of Kent moved from Blackheath to 
 Southwark. From that place he sent to demand 
 entrance into London ; and, after a debate in the 
 Common Council, Sir Thomas Chalton, the mayor, 
 intimated that no opposition would be offered. Ac- 
 cordingly, on the 3d of July, the insurgent leader
 
 40 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 crossed London Bridge the single bridge of which 
 the capital then boasted and led his followers into 
 the city. 
 
 The inhabitants of London must have felt some 
 degree of dismay. Both courtiers and citizens had 
 an idea what a mob was what violence and blood- 
 shed the French capital had witnessed during the 
 outbreaks of the Cabochiens of what horrors each 
 French province had been the scene during the Jac- 
 querie. Moreover, the ruins of the Savoy, destroy- 
 ed during Wat Tyler's insurrection, and towering 
 gloomily on the spot now occupied by the northern 
 approach to Waterloo Bridge, formed at least one 
 memorial of what mischief even English peasants 
 and artisans were capable, when roused by injustice 
 and oppression. At first, however, the Captain of 
 Kent displayed a degree of moderation hardly to have 
 been anticipated. Arrayed in Stafford's splendid 
 mail, he commenced his triumphal entry by indulg- 
 ing in a little harmless vanity. 
 
 " Now," said he, stopping, and striking his staff on 
 London Stone, " now is Mortimer Lord of London." 
 
 : Take heed," said the mayor, who was standing 
 on the threshold of his door, and witnessed the scene, 
 " take heed that you attempt nothing against the 
 quiet of the city." 
 
 " Sir," answered Cade, " let the world take notice 
 of our honest intentions by our actions."
 
 CADE IN THE CAPITAL. 41 
 
 All that day the Captain of Kent appeared most 
 'inxious to gain the good opinion of the citizens. 
 He issued proclamations against plunder, did his ut- 
 most to preserve discipline, and in the evening he 
 marched quietly back to Soutlnvark. Next morn- 
 ing, however, he returned ; and, perhaps, no longer 
 able to restrain the thirst of his followers for blood, 
 he resolved to gratify them by the execution of " a 
 new man/' 
 
 Among the most obnoxious of the king's minis- 
 ters was James Fiennes, who held the office of 
 lord chamberlain, and enjoyed the dignity of Lord 
 Say. The rapid rise of this peer to wealth and 
 power had rendered him an object of dislike to the 
 old nobility; and his connection with Suffolk's ad- 
 ministration had rendered him an object of hatred 
 to the people. Besides, he had lately purchased 
 Knole Park, in the vicinity of Sevenoaks, and- per- 
 haps had, as lord of the soil, given offense to the 
 commons of Kent by trenching on some of those 
 privileges which they cherished so fondly. 
 
 Ere entering London, the insurgents had made up 
 their minds to have Lord Say's head ; and, aware 
 of the odium attached to his name, the unpopular 
 minister had taken refuge with Lord Scales in the 
 Tower. Scales had seen much service in France, 
 and highly distinguished himself in the wars of the 
 fifth Henry ; but now he had reached his fiftieth
 
 ij THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 summer ; his bodily strength had decayed ; and time 
 had perhaps impaired the martial spirit that had 
 animated his youthful exploits. At all events, in- 
 stead of defending Lord Say to the last, as might 
 have been expected, Scales allowed him to be taken 
 from the Tower and carried to Guildhall, and on 
 the ill-fated lord's arrival there the Captain of Kent 
 compelled the mayor and aldermen to arraign him 
 as a traitor. In vain Say protested against the pro- 
 ceeding, and demanded a trial by his peers. The 
 captain twitted him with being a mock patrician, 
 and insisted upon the judges condemning the " buck- 
 ram lord." At length the insurgents lost patience, 
 hurried their prisoner into Cheapside, and, having 
 there beheaded him without farther ceremony, hast- 
 ened to execute vengeance upon his son-in-law, Sir 
 James Cromer, who, as sheriff of Kent, had incurred 
 their displeasure. 
 
 Intoxicated with triumph as the Captain of Kent 
 might be, the daring adventurer felt the reverse of 
 easy while passing himself off as a Mortimer, and 
 could not help dreading the consequence of his real 
 origin being revealed to those whom he had deluded. 
 Rumors were indeed creeping about that his name 
 was Jack Cade ; that he was a native of Ireland ; 
 that in his own country he had, for some time, 
 lived in the household of a knight, but that having 
 killed a woman and child he had entered the French
 
 A BATTLE AT THE BRIDGE. 43 
 
 service, and acquired the military skill which he 
 had displayed against Stafford. Moreover, some 
 chroniclers state that, to preclude the possibility of 
 exposure, he mercilessly executed those who were 
 suspected to know any thing of his antecedents, 
 and endeavored to insure the fidelity of his adher- 
 ents by allowing them to perpetrate various kinds 
 of enormity. 
 
 The citizens had hitherto submitted with pa- 
 tience ; but on the 5th of July a provoking outrage 
 roused them to resistance. On that day Cade, hav- 
 ing gratified bis vanity and satiated his thirst for 
 blood, began to think of spoil. He commenced op- 
 erations under peculiar circumstances. After din- 
 ing with one of the citizens he requited the hospi- 
 tality of his host by plundering the house, and the 
 example of the captain was so faithfully followed by 
 his men that the Londoners perceived the propriety 
 of doing something for their defense. When, there- 
 fore, Cade led his forces back to Southwark for the 
 night, and the shades of evening settled over Lon- 
 don, the inhabitants took counsel with Lord Scales, 
 and resolved upon fortifying the bridge so as to pre- 
 vent his return. 
 
 While Cade was passing the night of the 5th of 
 July at Southwark, reposing on his laurels, as it 
 were, at the White Hart, news was carried to him 
 that Lord Scales and the citizens were preparing to
 
 44 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 resist his return. With characteristic decision the 
 Captain of Kent sprang to arms, declared he should 
 force a passage forthwith, mustered his men, and 
 led them to the attack. Fortune, however, now de- 
 clared against him. A fierce combat took place, 
 and the citizens defended the bridge so courageous- 
 ly that after a struggle of six hours the insurgents 
 were fain to retire to Southwark. 
 
 The courage of the rnob now cooled ; and the 
 king's ministers determined to try the effect of prom- 
 ises never intended to be redeemed. Accordingly, 
 William "\Vaynflete, Bishop of Winchester, appear- 
 ed with an offer of pardon to all who would return 
 peaceably home. At first the insurgents were di- 
 vided in opinion about accepting the bishop's terms ; 
 but Cade showed an inclination to grasp at the par- 
 don, and finally all dispersed. The Captain of Kent, 
 however, had as little intention as the government 
 to act with honor; and within ten days he again ap- 
 peared in Southwark with a considerable following. 
 This time, however, the citizens, elate with victory, 
 presented a firm front ; and, dismayed at their threat- 
 ening aspect, Cade retreated to Rochester. While 
 there, terrified at the feuds of his followers, he learn- 
 ed with horror that a thousand marks had been of- 
 fered for his apprehension ; and, alarmed at the prob- 
 ability of being delivered up, he galloped across the 
 country toward the coast of Sussex, and, for some 
 time, wandered about in disguise.
 
 CADE'S CATASTROPHE. 45 
 
 The Captain of Kent was not destined to elude 
 the vengeance of the government which he had de- 
 fied. An esquire of the county, named Alexander 
 Iden, pursued the despairing insurgent, and found 
 him lurking in a garden at Rothfield. Cade did not 
 yield to his fate without a struggle. Drawing his 
 sword, he stood upon his defense ; and both the cap- 
 tain and the esquire being men of strength and cour- 
 age, a desperate conflict ensued. The victory, how- 
 ever, fell to Iden ; and Cade's head, after being car- 
 ried to the king, was set on London Bridge, his face 
 turned toward the hills of Kent. Many of his com- 
 panions, in spite of Bishop Waynflete's promise of 
 pardon, were subsequently taken and executed as 
 traitors. 
 
 Such was the end of a popular tumult, the origin 
 of which remains in considerable obscurity. Some 
 asserted that Jack Cade was merely an agent of 
 Richard Plantagenet, and did not hesitate to describe 
 " Captain Mendall" as " one of the Duke of York's 
 firebrands." No evidence exists, however, to show 
 that the " high and mighty prince," freely as his 
 great name might have been used by the insurgents, 
 had any tiring to do with the enterprise. Never- 
 theless the insurrection was not without influence 
 on the duke's fortunes, and it has ever been regarded 
 as a prelude to the fierce struggle between the houses 
 of York and Lancaster.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE RIVAL DUKES. 
 
 ABOUT the end of August, 1451, a rumor reached 
 the court of Westminster that the Duke of York had 
 suddenly left Ireland. The queen was naturally 
 somewhat alarmed ; for, during Cade's insurrection, 
 the duke's name had been used in such a way as to 
 test his influence, and no doubt remained of the pop- 
 ularity he enjoyed among the commons. 
 
 Margaret of Anjou had no wish to see York in 
 London. On the pretext, therefore, that the duke 
 came with too large a force, the queen, at Somer- 
 instigation, dispatched Lord Lisle, son of the 
 famous Talbot, to prevent his landing. York, how- 
 ever, eluded the vigilance of his enemies, made his 
 way to London, paid his respects to the king, com- 
 plained of the misgovernment under which the coun- 
 try was suffering ; and, still mute as to his inten- 
 tions, retired to Fotheringay, a castle which had been 
 built by his ancestor, Edmund of Langley. 
 
 The absence of York from court exercised more 
 influence in London than his presence could have 
 done, and soon after his return from Ireland a mem- 
 ber of the House of Commons boldly proposed that,
 
 YORK AND SOMERSET. 47 
 
 since Henry had no issue and no prospect of any, the 
 duke should be declared heir to the throne. For his 
 temerity this senator was committed to the Tower ; 
 but the Commons, who were not thus to be daunted, 
 passed a bill of attainder against the deceased Duke 
 of Suffolk, and presented a petition to the king for 
 the dismissal of Somerset, who was Suffolk's suc- 
 cessor and York's foe. 
 
 The name of the Duke of Somerset was Edmund 
 Beaufort. He was the illegitimate grandson of John 
 of Gaunt, nephew of Cardinal Beaufort, and brother 
 of that fair damsel whom James, the poet-king of 
 Scots, had wooed at Windsor, under circumstances 
 so romantic. He had, for several years, been Ke- 
 gent of France, and in that capacity displayed con- 
 siderable vigor ; but the loss of Normandy occurred 
 during his government, and this misfortune, coupled 
 with his violent temper, and the fact of his enjoying 
 the queen's favor, rendered Somerset's name as odi- 
 ous to the multitude as that of Suffolk had ever been. 
 The queen, however, not being inclined to bow to 
 popular opinion, resisted the demand of the House 
 of Commons for her favoi'ite's dismissal ; and the 
 strife between the parties was carried on with a de- 
 gree of violence which, in any other country, would 
 have produced immediate war and bloodshed. 
 
 The heir of the Plantagenets, however, recognized 
 the necessity of acting with prudence. In fact, the
 
 48 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Lancastrian dynasty was still so much in favor with 
 the nation that an attempt on York's part to seize 
 the crown would inevitably have added to the power 
 of his enemies ; but in any efforts to put down 
 Somerset, and the men whom that obnoxious min- 
 ister used as the instruments of his tyranny, the duke 
 well knew that he carried with him the hearts of 
 the people and of those great patricians whom the 
 people regarded as their natural leaders. 
 
 Though the Earl of Westmoreland adhered to the 
 house of Lancaster the alliance of the other Nevilles 
 would of itself have rendered York formidable ; and, 
 besides the Nevilles, tnere were many feudal mag- 
 nates who shared York's antipathy to Somerset. 
 Thomas, Lord Stanley, who had married Warwick's 
 sister ; John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, descended 
 from a granddaughter of the first Edward ; John De 
 Vere, Earl of Oxford, whose ancestors had been great 
 in England since the Conquest ; and Thomas Courte- 
 nay, Earl of Devon, whose pedigree dated from flic 
 age of Charlemagne, could not witness without in- 
 dignation the domination of Beauforts. "We are 
 unwilling," such men must have murmured, " to see 
 the court of Westminster converted into a sty for 
 the brood of Katherine Swynford." 
 
 York, for some time, hesitated to strike a blow ; 
 but, at length, and not without reason, he lost all 
 patience. Indeed, the Yorkists affirmed that a plot 
 had been formed for imnri Boning their chief, and
 
 YORK'S MARCH TO BRENT HEATH. 49 
 
 putting 1dm secretly to death ; and the memory of 
 Humphrey of Gloucester's fate rendered people 
 credulous of any such report. To baffle any such 
 criminal project, a movement against Somerset was 
 resolved upon by the partisans of the White Rose ; 
 and, about the opening of 1452, Yoi'k repaired to 
 his castle of Ludlow, gathered an army among the 
 retainers of the house of Mortimer, and, declaring 
 that he had no evil intentions against the king, to 
 whom he offered to swear fealty on the sacrament, 
 commenced his march toward London. 
 
 The Lancastrians were alarmed at the intelligence 
 that the duke was in arms ; and forces were mus- 
 tered to intercept his march. But while the royal 
 army went westward by one road York came east- 
 ward by another, and, with several thousand men at 
 his back, appeared at the gates of London. The 
 metropolis, however, had aided in that revolution 
 which placed Henry of Bolingbroke on the throne, 
 and still continued well affected to the house of 
 Lancaster. York did not, therefore, meet with such 
 a reception as his friends could have wished. The 
 gates, in fact, were shut in his face ; and, not wish- 
 ing to exasperate the citizens by acts of violence, he 
 marched up the banks of the Thames, crossed the 
 river at Kingston, and, having been joined by the 
 Earl of Devon, encamped his army on Brent Heath, 
 near Dartford. 
 
 D
 
 DO THF "WARS OF THE ROSKs 
 
 Henry, meantime, ventured on taking the field, 
 and pitched his pavilion on Blackheath. It soon 
 appeared, however, that on neither side was there 
 any inclination to involve the country in civil war. 
 Negotiations were therefore opened ; and two hish- 
 ops, commissioned to act for the king, proceeded to 
 the camp of the Yorkists and demanded of their 
 chief why he had appeared in arms. 
 
 The duke, who would seem to have been unaware 
 of the utter insincerity of his enemies, answered that 
 repeated attempts had been made to efi'.Tt hi- ruin. 
 and that he was in arms for his own >afc(v. The 
 bishops, who well knew how truly York spoke, ad- 
 mitted that he had been watched with a jealous eye, 
 but assigned as a reason that the treasonable talk 
 of his adherents justified suspicion. On the king's 
 part, however, they acquitted him of all treason, 
 saying that Henry esteemed him as a true man and 
 well-beloved cousin ; and York, maintaining a high 
 tone, insisted that all persons who had broken the 
 laws of the realm, especially those who had been 
 indicted for treason, should be put upon their trial. 
 The demand was so reasonable that compliance 
 could not with decency be refused ; and Henry, 
 having promised that every offender should be pun- 
 ished, issued an order for the apprehension of Som- 
 erset, and gave York to understand that he should 
 ha\e a place in the council.
 
 THE MONK-MONARCH'S BAD FAITH 61 
 
 Far from doubting the king's good faith, York 
 disbanded his army, and agreed to a personal inter- 
 view with his royal kinsman. The result was not 
 the most satisfactory. It proved beyond question 
 that, however saintly his theories, Henry was capa- 
 ble of acting with an utter disregard of honor that 
 he had little sympathy with the fine sentiment of 
 his ancestor, John de Valois, who, when advised to 
 violate a treaty with our third Edward, exclaimed : 
 " Were truth and sincerity banished from every 
 part of the earth, they ought yet to be found in the 
 mouths and the hearts of kings." It appears that 
 the queen had concealed Somerset behind the arras 
 of the king's tent, and no sooner did York enter, 
 and repeat what he had said to the two bishops, 
 than the favorite, stepping from behind a curtain, 
 offered to prove his innocence, and called York liar 
 and traitor. 
 
 The scene which followed may easily be imagined. 
 Somerset was violent and insolent ; Henry, alarmed 
 and silent; York, indignant and scornful. The duke 
 could now entertain no doubt that he had been be- 
 trayed ; but his courage did not desert him. He 
 retorted Somerset's epithets with interest, and was 
 turning haughtily to take his departure, when in- 
 formed that he \vas a captive. Somerset then pro- 
 posed a summary trial and execution ; but the court- 
 iers shrunk from the opprobrium of another mur-
 
 52 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 der. The king, who, save in the case of Lollards, 
 had no love of executions, took the more moderate 
 view ; and the duke, instead of perishing on the scaf- 
 fold, was sent as a state prisoner to the Tower of 
 London. 
 
 While the queen and her friends were still bent 
 on York's destruction, a rumor that his eldest son 
 Edward, the boy-Earl of March, was coming from 
 Ludlow at the head of a strong body of Welshmen, 
 filled the council with alarm. The duke was there- 
 upon set at liberty, and, after making his submission, 
 allowed to retire to the borders of Wales, Havinf 
 
 O 
 
 reached the dominions of the Mortimers, the heir- 
 presumptive sought refuge within the walls of the 
 castles of Wigmore and Ludlow, repressed ambitious 
 longings and patriotic indignation, and, for the resto- 
 ration of better days to himself and his country, trust- 
 ed to the chapter of accidents and the course of 
 events.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE KING'S MALADY. 
 
 IN the autumn of 1453 the queen was keeping 
 her court at Clarendon; the Duke of York was at 
 AVigmore and at Ludlow, maintaining a state befit- 
 ting the heir of the Mortimers ; the barons were at 
 their moated castles, complaining gloomily of Hen- 
 ry's indolence and Somerset's insolence ; and the 
 people were expressing the utmost discontent at the 
 mismanagement that had, after a brave struggle, in 
 which Talbot and his son, Lord Lisle, fell, finally 
 lost Gascony; when a strange gloom settled over 
 the countenances of the Lancastrians, and mysteri- 
 ous rumors crept about as to the king's health. At 
 length the terrible truth came out, and the Yorkists 
 learned that Henry was suffering from an eclipse of 
 reason, similar to that which had afflicted his mater- 
 nal grandsire, the sixth Charles of France. In this 
 state he was slowly removed from Clarendon to 
 Westminster. 
 
 About a month after the king's loss of reason, 
 there occurred another event, destined to exercise 
 great influence on the rival parties. At Westmin- 
 ster, on the 14th of October, 1453, Margaret of
 
 54 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Anjou, after having been for eight year? a wife, 
 without being a mother, gave birth to an heir to 
 the English crown; and the existence of this boy, 
 destined to an end so tragic, while reviving the 
 courage of the Lancastrians, inspired the partisans 
 of the White Kosc with a resolution to adopt bold 
 measures on behalf of their chief. 
 
 At first, indeed, the Yorkists altogether refused 
 to believe in the existence of the infant prince. 
 When, however, that could no longer be denied, 
 they declared that there had been unfair play. 
 Finally, they circulated reports injurious to Mar- 
 garet's honor as a queen and reputation as a wom- 
 an ; and rumor, which, ere this, h;ul whispered 
 light tales of Rene's daughter, took the liberty of 
 ascribing to Somerset the paternity of her son. 
 Such scandals were calculated to repress loyal emo- 
 tions; and the courtiers attempted to counteract the 
 effect by giving the child a popular name. Accord- 
 ingly, the little prince, who had first seen the light 
 on St. Edward's Day, was baptized by that name, 
 which was dear to the people, as having been borne 
 by the last Anglo-Saxon king, and by the greatest 
 of the Plantagenets. Nobody, however, appears 
 to have supposed that because the boy was named 
 Edward, he would, therefore, prove equal in wis- 
 dom and valor to the English Justinian, or the 
 conqueror of Cressy, or " the valiant and gentle
 
 BIRTH OF PRINCE EDWARD. 57 
 
 Prince of Wales, the flower of all chivalry in the 
 world." 
 
 The insanity of the king, naturally enough, 
 brought about the recall of York to the council ; 
 and when Parliament met in February, 1454, the 
 duke having, as Royal Commissioner, opened the 
 proceedings, the peers determined to arrive at a 
 knowledge of the king's real condition, which the 
 queen had hitherto endeavored to conceal. An 
 opportunity soon occurred. 
 
 On the 2cl of March, 1454, John Kempe, Primate 
 and Chancellor of England, breathed his last. On 
 such occasions it was customary for the House of 
 Lords to confer personally with the sovereign, and, 
 accordingly, Henry being then at Windsor, twelve 
 peers were deputed to go thither for that purpose. 
 Their reception was not gracious ; but they insisted 
 on entering the castle, and found the king utterly 
 incapable of comprehending a word. Three several 
 times they presented themselves in his chamber, but 
 in vain ; and, returning to London, free from any 
 doubts, they made a report to the House which con- 
 vinced the most incredulous. " AVe could get," said 
 they, " no answer or sign from him for no prayer 
 nor desire." At the request of the twelve peers, 
 this report was entered on the records of Parlia- 
 ment ; and, ere two days passed, Richard, Duke of 
 York, was nominated Protector of England. His
 
 58 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 power was to continue until the king recovered, of t 
 in the event of Henry's malady proving incurable, 
 till young Edward came of age. 
 
 The duke, when intrusted by Parliament with 
 the functions of Protector, exercised the utmost 
 caution; and, while accepting the duties of the of- 
 fice, was careful to obtain from his peers the most 
 explicit declaration that he only followed their no- 
 ble commandment P. It is true that one of his fir.-t 
 acts was to intrust the great seal to the Earl of 
 Salisbury ; but, on the whole, his moderation was 
 conspicuous; and the claims of Prince Edward, as 
 heir of England, having been fully recognized, he 
 was created Prince of Wales and Earl of Che.-irr, 
 and a splendid provision was made for his mainte- 
 nance. 
 
 With York at the head of the government, mat- 
 ters went smoothly till the close of 1454; but in 
 the month of December the king's recovery threw 
 every thing into disorder. About Christmas Henry 
 awoke as from a confused dream ; and, on St. John's 
 Day, he sent his almoner with an offering to Can- 
 terbury, and his secretary on a similar errand to 
 the shrine of St. Edward. 
 
 The queen's hopes were now renewed and her 
 ambitions stimulated. Having in vain endeavored 
 to conceal the plight of her husband from the na- 
 tion, she marked his restoration with joy, and pre-
 
 HENRY'S RECOVERY 59 
 
 sented the prince to him with maternal pride. 
 Henry was, perhaps, slightly surprised to find him- 
 self the father of a fine boy ; but, manifesting a 
 proper degree of paternal affection, he asked by 
 what name his heir had been failed. The queen 
 replied that he had been named Edward ; and the 
 icing, holding up his hands, thanked GOD that such 
 was the case. He was then informed that Cardinal 
 Kempe was no more ; and he remarked, " Then one 
 of the wisest lords in the land is dead." 
 
 The king's recovery was bruited about ; and, on 
 the morning after Twelfth Day, William Waynflete, 
 Bishop of Winchester, paid the royal invalid a visit. 
 Henry spoke to him as rationally as ever he had 
 been capable. of doing ; declaring, moreover, that he 
 was in charity with all the world, and wished his 
 lords were in the same frame of mind. The bishop, 
 on leaving the king, was so affected that he wept 
 for joy ; the news spread from Thames to Tweed ; 
 and, from Kent to Northumberland, the partisans 
 of the Red Rose congratulated each other on the 
 return of good fortune.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF ST. ALBAXS. 
 
 WHEN Henry recovered from his malady York 
 resigned the Protectorship, and Margaret of Anjou 
 again became all-powerful. The circumstances 
 were such that the exercise of moderation, toward 
 friends and foes, would have restored the Lancas- 
 trian queen to the good opinion of her husband's 
 subjects. Unfortunately for her happiness, Marga- 
 ret allowed prejudice and passion to hurry her into 
 a defiance of law and decency. 
 
 It happened that, during the king's illness, Som- 
 erset had been arrested in the queen's great cham- 
 ber, and sent, to keep his Christmas in the Tower, 
 as a preliminary to his being brought to trial. Xo 
 sooner, however, did Margaret regain authority, 
 than her favorite was set at liberty ; and people 
 learned with indignation that, instead of having to 
 answer for his offenses against the state, the un- 
 worthy noble was to be appointed Captain-general 
 of Calais. After this, the Yorkists became con- 
 vinced that the sword alone could settle the contro- 
 versy ; and, about the spring of 1455, the duke, re- 
 pairing to Ludlow, summoned, for the second time,
 
 THE ARMIES OF YORK AND LANCASTER. 61 
 
 his retainers, and prepared to display his banner in 
 actual war against the royal standard of England. 
 He had soon the gratification of being joined by the 
 two great Earls of Salisbury and Warwick, by John 
 Mo \vbray, Duke of Norfolk, and by other men whose 
 rank and nobility lent lustre to the cause. Having 
 armed and arrayed the Marchmen of Wales, York 
 advanced toward the capital. 
 
 War was now inevitable ; and Somerset did not 
 shrink from a conflict with the prince whose life he 
 had sought and whose vengeance he had defied. A 
 Lancastrian army was forthwith assembled ; and at 
 its head Henry and Somerset, accompanied by many 
 men of influence, marched from London to face the 
 Yorkists in fight. Sir Philip Wentworth bore the 
 royal standard ; and with the king went Humphrey, 
 Duke of Buckingham, and his son, Earl Stafford ; 
 James Butler, chief of the house of Ormond, whom 
 Henry had created Earl of Wiltshire ; Thomas, Lord 
 Clifford, from the Craven ; and Hotspur's son, Hen- 
 ry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, who, having in 
 youth been restored by Henry the Fifth, now went 
 out, at the age of threescore, to fight for the crown 
 worn by Henry's son. The people, however, held 
 aloof from the contest ; and the army of the Red 
 Rose, composed entirely of nobles, with their knights, 
 and squires, and fighting men, does not appear to 
 have exceeded two thousand in number.
 
 62 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 The king had not far to go in search of his kins- 
 man. After passing the night of Thursday, the 22d 
 of May, at AVatford, and proceeding next morning to 
 St. Albans, the Lancastrians, when about to con- 
 tinue their march, perceived that the hills in front 
 of them were covered with armed men, who moved 
 rapidly in battle order toward the ancient historic 
 town. On observing the approach of the Yorkist 
 foe, the Lancastrian leaders halted, set up the royal 
 standard, placed troops under the command of Lord 
 Clifford to guard the barriers, and sent the Duke of 
 Buckingham to confer with the White Rose chiefs, 
 who had encamped at Heyfield. 
 
 Richard Plantagenet, though a warrior of the high- 
 est courage, had no relish for bloodshed ; and he did 
 not forget that those to whom he now stood opposed 
 were Englishmen like himself. "When, therefore, 
 Buckingham went, in Henry's name, to demand why 
 York thus appeared before his sovereign in hostile 
 array, the duke professed great loyalty, and replied 
 that he would at once lay down lii-< arms if the king 
 would surrender Somerset to justice. 
 
 Buckingham, whose affection for the Beauforts 
 was not excessive, carried this answer to Henry ; and 
 the duke's demand for the surrender of the queen's 
 favorite produced an effect which could hardly have 
 been anticipated. For once the monk-monarch 
 showed some spark of tlio Plantagenet, expressed
 
 THE BATTLE. 63 
 
 the utmost scorn at the message, and swore by St. 
 Edward, as if he had been a conqueror ofEvesham, 
 "that he would as soon deliver up his crown as ei- 
 ther Somerset or the meanest soldier in his camp." 
 
 Every prospect of an accommodation Avas now 
 dissipated ; and the warriors of the White Rose, 
 who had remained inactive for three hours, pre- 
 pared for an encounter. Having addressed his ad- 
 herents, York advanced, with banners streaming 
 and clarions sounding, and at noon commenced that 
 struggle, which, thirty years later, was terminated 
 on the field of Bosworth. 
 
 From occupying St. Albans the Lancastrians had 
 the advantage of position, and such hopes of victor)' 
 that Somerset's men were ordered to put to death 
 all the Yorkists who should l>e taken prisoners. 
 Moreover, Clifford made a brave defense, and for a 
 time the duke was kept in check at the barrier?. 
 The Yorkists, among other weapons of offense, had 
 guns ; and Warwick and Salisbury had such a de- 
 gree of skill in using them as their enemies could 
 not boast of. Yet so steadily Avere they resisted by 
 Clifford that the prospect of coming to close conflict 
 Avith the foe appeared distant ; and the partisans of 
 York looked somewhat blank. But Warwick was 
 not a man to yield to obstacles. Leading his sol- 
 diers round part of the hill on which St. Albans is 
 situated, that great Avar-chief broke do\vn a high
 
 fit THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 wall, ordered his trumpets to sound, crossed the 
 gardens which the wall inclosed, and, shouting 
 "A Warwick! A Warwick!" charged forward upon 
 the recoiling foe. On the Lancastrian ranks War- 
 wick's presence produced an immediate impression ; 
 and the barriers having been burst, the Yorkists, 
 encouraged by " The Stout Earl's" war-cry, rushed 
 into the town, and came face to face with their foes. 
 
 A conflict now took place among the hou 
 the lanes, in the streets, and in the market-place. 
 The fight was fierce, as could not fail to be the case 
 in a struggle between men who had long cherished, 
 while restraining, their mortal hate ; and the ancient 
 town was soon strewn with traces of the battle, and 
 crimsoned with the blood of the slain. Ticking's 
 friends made a desperate resistance ; and delayed 
 the victory till the clash of mail reached the monks 
 in the abbey. But Warwick cheered on archer 
 and spearman to the assault ; and York, not to be 
 baffled, re-enforced every party that was hard-press- 
 ed, and pressed forward fresh warriors to relieve the 
 wearj r and the wounded. Humphrey, Earl Stafford, 
 bit the dust ; Clifford fell, to be cruelly avenged on 
 a more bloody day ; and Northumberland, who had 
 seen so many years and fought so many battles, died 
 under the weapons of his foes. 
 
 Somerset appears at first to have fought with a 
 courage worthy of the reputation he had won on
 
 SOMERSET'S DEFEAT AND DEATH. 65 
 
 Continent ; and on hearing that Clifford's sol- 
 diers were giving way before Warwick's mighty 
 onslaught he rushed gallantly to the rescue. The 
 chief of the Beauforf?, however, did not live to 
 bring aid to the men of the Craven. Years be- 
 fore, the Lancastrian duke had been admonished by 
 a fortune-teller to beware of a castle ; and, finding 
 himself suddenly under a tavern bearing that sign, 
 the warning occurred to his memory. Superstitious 
 like his neighbors, Somerset lost bis presence of 
 mind, gave himself up for lost, became bewildered, 
 and was beaten down and slain. The fortune of the 
 day being decidedly against the Red Rose, the Earl 
 of Wiltshire cast his harness into a ditch and spurred 
 fast fro a the lost field ; while Sir Philip Wentworth, 
 equally careful of his own safety, threw away the 
 royal standard, and fled toward Suffolk. The Lan- 
 castrians, beaten and aware of Somerset's fall, rush- 
 ed through the gardens and leaped over hedges, 
 leaving their arms in the ditches and woods that 
 they might escape the more swiftly. 
 
 Ere this Henry had been wounded in the neck by 
 an arrow. Sad and sorrowful, he sought shelter in 
 a thatched house occupied by a tanner. Thither, 
 fresh from victory, went the duke ; and treated his 
 vanquished kinsman with every respect. Kneeling 
 respectfully, the conqueror protested his loyalty, and 
 declared his readiness to obey the king. " Then," 
 E
 
 86 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 paid Henry, " stop the pursuit and slaughter, and I 
 will do whatever you will." The duke, having or- 
 dered a cessation of hostilities, led the king to the 
 abbey ; the royal kinsmen, after praying together 
 before the shrine of England's first martyr, journey- 
 ed to London ; and Margaret of Anjou, then with 
 her son at Greenwich, learned, with dismay, that 
 her favorite was a corpse and her husband a captive. 
 At such a time, while shedding tears of bitterness 
 and doubt within the palace built by Humphrey of 
 Gloucester, the young queen must have reflected, 
 with remorse, on the part she had taken against 
 " The Good Duke," and considered how different a 
 face affairs might have worn in 1455, if she had not, 
 in 1447, consented to the violent removal of the last 
 stately pillar that supported the house of Lancaster.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE QUEEN AND THE YORKIST CHIEFS. 
 
 WHEN the battle of St. Albans placed the king 
 and kingdom of England under the influence of the 
 Yorkists, the duke and his friends exercised their 
 authority with a moderation rarely exhibited in such 
 circumstances. No vindictive malice was displayed 
 against the vanquished ; not a drop of blood flowed 
 on the scaffold ; not an act of attainder passed the 
 Legislature. Every thing was done temperately and 
 in order. 
 
 As Henry was again attacked by his malady he 
 was intrusted to Margaret's care, and York was again 
 declared Protector of the realm, with a provision that 
 he was to hold the office, not as before at the king's 
 pleasure, but until discharged from it by the Lords 
 in Parliament. Salisbury was, at the same time, in- 
 trusted with the Great Seal ; and Warwick was ap- 
 pointed to the government of Calais. Comines calls 
 Calais " the richest prize in the crown of England ;" 
 and the government of the city was an office of great- 
 er trust and profit than any which an English sov- 
 ereign had to bestow. 
 
 Margaret of Anjou, however, was not quite ab-
 
 68 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 sorbed in her duties as wife and mother. While 
 educating her helpless son and tending her yet more 
 helpless husband, she was bent on a struggle for the 
 recovery of that power which she had already so 
 fatally abused ; and as necessity alone had made her 
 submit to the authority of York and his two noble 
 kinsmen, who were satirized as the " Triumvirate," 
 she seized the earliest opportunity of ejecting them 
 from power. 
 
 One day in spring, while the queen was ponder- 
 ing projects of ambition, and glowing with anticipa- 
 tions of vengeance, two noblemen of high rank and 
 great influence appeared at the palace of Greenwich. 
 One of these was Humphrey Stafford, Duke of Buck- 
 ingham ; the other, Henry Beaufort, Duke of Somer- 
 set ; and their errand Avas to confer with Queen Mar- 
 garet on the present state of affairs. The queen 
 received them with open arms, expressed haughty 
 scorn of her potent foes, and reminded Buckingham 
 of the son he had lost at St. Albans, and Somerset 
 of the father he had lost on the same fatal day. The 
 dukes, having listened to all this, represented to Mar- 
 garet the indignity to which the king was subjected 
 in being deprived of all share in the government, 
 while York and his accomplices managed every thing 
 according to their pleasure. The queen heard her 
 Mends with delight, vowed that the triumph of the 
 Yorkist chiefs should be brief, and resolved upon 
 acting without delay.
 
 \TOH. 
 
 THE QUEEN'S COUNCIL AT GREENVWCH. 69 
 
 Accordingly it was determined to hold a council ; 
 and the enemies of York were summoned to Green- 
 wich. After some debate as to the most politic 
 method of restoring the royal authority, the council 
 resolved that York should be commanded to resign 
 the office of protector, seeing that the king was of 
 years and discretion sufficient to rule without a 
 guardian, and that Salisbury should be commanded 
 to surrender the post of chancellor. " The great 
 seal," they said, " had never been in his custody, 
 that which he used having been made since the 
 king's restraint." Henry, for whose opinion none 
 of the Lancastrians had any respect, was easily pre- 
 vailed upon to give his sanction to their measures, 
 and York and Salisbury were discharged from their 
 high offices, and summoned to appear before the 
 council. 
 
 The duke and the earl were much too wise to 
 place themselves in the power of enemies Avho had, 
 on former occasions, proved so unscrupulous. They 
 answered boldly that there existed no power to dis- 
 place them or command their appearance, save in 
 Parliament. When, however, the houses assembled 
 after Christmas, 1456, Henry presented himself and 
 demanded back his regal power. Every body was 
 surprised ; but no doubt was expressed as to the 
 king's sanity, and York, without a murmur, resign- 
 ed the protectorship.
 
 70 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 The queen was not content with having deprived 
 the duke and the earl of power. Her ideas of re- 
 venge went far beyond such satisfaction ; and she 
 occupied her brain with schemes for putting her en- 
 emies under her feet. Feigning indifference to af- 
 fairs of state, the artful woman pretended to give 
 herself up entirely to the restoration of the king's 
 health, and announced her intention of affording 
 Henry an opportunity to indulge in pastimes likely 
 to restore him to vigor of mind and body. 
 
 On this pretext the king and queen made a prog- 
 ress into Warwickshire, hunting and hawking by 
 the way, till they reached Coventry. While resid- 
 ing in that ancient city, and keeping her court in 
 the Priory, the queen wrote letters, in affectionate 
 terms, to York, Salisbury, and Warwick, earnestly 
 entreating them to visit the king on a certain day ; 
 and the duke, with the two earls, suspecting no evil, 
 obeyed the summons, and rode toward Coventry. 
 On approaching the city, however, they received 
 warning that foul play was intended, and, turning 
 aside, escaped the peril that awaited them. York, 
 unattended save by his groom and page, made for 
 Wigmore ; Salisbury repaired to Middleham, a great 
 castle of the Nevilles in Yorkshire ; and Warwick 
 took shipping for Calais, which soon became his 
 strong-hold and refuge. 
 
 Totally unaware of the mischief projected by his
 
 A PEACE CONFERENCE. 71 
 
 spouse, but sincerely anxious for a reconciliation of 
 parties, Henry resolved on acting as peace-maker, 
 and, with that view, summoned a great council. 
 The king was all eagerness to reconcile York and 
 his friends with the Beauforts, Percies, and Clif- 
 fords, whose kinsmen had been slain at St. Albans ; 
 and he swore upon his salvation so to entertain the 
 duke and the two earls, that all discontent should 
 be removed. London was fixed upon as the place 
 of meeting ; and, at the head of five thousand arm- 
 ed men, the mayor undertook to prevent strife. 
 
 Accompanied by a number of friends and follow- 
 ers, York entered the capital, and repaired to Bay- 
 nard's castle ; the Earl of Salisbury arrived, with a 
 feudal following, at his mansion called the Harbor ; 
 and Warwick, landing from Calais, rode into the 
 city, attended by six hundred men, with his badge, 
 the ragged staff, embroidered on each of their red 
 coats, and took possession of his residence near the 
 Grey Friars. 
 
 At the same time, the Lancastrian nobles mus- 
 tered strong. Henry Beaufort, Duke of Somerset ; 
 Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland ; and John, 
 "the black-faced" Lord Clifford, came riding to- 
 ward London, in feudal array, attended by hund- 
 reds of the men of the west, of Northumberland, 
 and of the Craven. Each of the three had lost a 
 father in the first battle of the Roses ; and, albeit
 
 72 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 young and vigorous, they were to pour out their 
 heart's blood in the struggle, ere a few years passed 
 over. But in no wise apprehensive did they seem, 
 as they alighted at their respective lodgings to the 
 west of Temple Bar. Thither, at the same time, 
 came Exeter, Buckingham, and Thomas Percy, 
 Lord Egremont, a younger son of that Earl of 
 Northumberland slain at St. Albans. Devon would 
 have been in London also ; but, while on his way, 
 he fell sick, and died in the Abbey of Abingdon. 
 
 One circumstance connected with this attempt at 
 pacification was particularly noticed. While the 
 Yorkists lodged in the city, the Beauforts, Percies, 
 and Cliffords, sojourned on the west of Temple Bar ; 
 and while one party held their deliberations in the 
 Black Friars, the other held their meetings in the 
 Chapter House at "Westminster. The wits of the 
 period had their joke on the occasion, and said, that 
 as the Jews disdained the company of the Samari- 
 tans, so the Lancastrian lords abhorred the idea of 
 familiarity with the White Rose chiefs. 
 
 The farce was played out. The king, who, during 
 the conferences, resided at Berkhamstead and acted 
 as umpire, in due time gave his award. The York- 
 ists appear to have had scanty justice. They were 
 heavily mulcted, for the benefit of their living foes, 
 and ordered to build a chapel for the good of the 
 souls of the lords slain at St. Albans. Every body,
 
 "THE DISSIMULATED LOVE-DAY." ~>3 
 
 however, appeared satisfied, and agreed to a religi- 
 ous procession to St. Paul's, that they might con- 
 vince the populace how real was the concord that 
 existed. The day of the Conception was appointed 
 for this ceremony ; and, to take part in it, the king 
 and queen came from Berkhamstead to London. 
 
 The procession was so arranged as to place in the 
 position of dear friends those whose enmity was sup- 
 posed to be the bitterest. The king, with a crown 
 on his head, and wearing royal robes, was naturally 
 the principal figure. Before him, hand in hand, 
 walked Salisbury and Somerset, Warwick and Ex- 
 eter. Behind him came York leading Margaret of 
 Anjou. The citizens were, perhaps, convinced that 
 Yorkists and Lancastrians were the best of friends. 
 All was delusion, however, naught was truth. 
 Though their hands were joined their hearts were 
 far asunder, and the blood already shed cried for 
 vengeance. Stern grew the brows of Lancastrian 
 lords, pale the cheeks of Lancastrian ladies, at the 
 mention of St. Albans. The Beauforts, Percies, and 
 Cliffords, still panted for vengeance, and vowed to 
 have an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.* 
 
 * A serious quarrel destined to be fought out eight 
 years later on Hexham Field occurred about this date be- 
 tween the chief of the Beauforts and Warwick's younger 
 brother, who, in 1461, became Lord Montagu. "It was not 
 long after that dissension and unkindness fell between the
 
 74 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 The procession to St. Paul's took place in spring, 
 and ere the summer was over events dissipated the 
 illusions which the scene created. Warwick, as Cap- 
 tain of Calais, interfered with some ships belonging 
 to the Hans Towns ; and of this the Hanseatic 
 League complained to the court of England, as an 
 infraction of the law of nations. The earl was asked 
 for explanations ; and to render them more clearly 
 presented himself at Westminster. 
 
 The opportunity for a quarrel was too favorable 
 to be neglected. One day, when Warwick was at- 
 tending the council at Westminter, a yeoman of 
 his retinue, having been struck by one of the royal 
 household, wounded his assailant. The king's serv- 
 ants assembling at the news watched until the earl 
 was returning from the council to his barge, and set 
 upon him with desperate intentions. A fray en- 
 sued, and Warwick, with some difficulty, escaped in 
 a wherry to London. Unfortunately, the mischief 
 did not end here. The queen, having heard of the 
 affair, acted with characteristic imprudence, and or- 
 
 young Duke of Somerset and Sir John Neville, son unto the 
 Earl of Salisbury, being then both lodged within the city. 
 Whereof the mayor being warned, ordained such watch and 
 provision that if they had any thing stirred he was able to 
 have subdued both parties, and to have put them in ward till 
 he had known the king's pleasure. Whereof the friends of 
 both parties being aware, labored such means that they 
 agreed them for that time." Fabyari's Chronicle.
 
 WARWICK'S ESCAPE FROM ARREST. 75 
 
 dered Warwick to be sent to the Tower, and a cry 
 was therefore raised that " The Foreign Woman," 
 who had murdered "The Good Duke Humphrey," 
 was going to murder " The Stout Earl." Warwick, 
 however, consulted his safety by making for York- 
 shire, where he took counsel with York and Salis- 
 bury. After this conference he passed over to Cal- 
 ais, and during the winter employed himself in em- 
 bodying some veteran troops who had served under 
 Bedford and Talbot in the wars of France.
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 THE CITY AND THE COURT. 
 
 ONE day, in the year 145G, a citizen of London, 
 passing along Cheapside, happened to meet an Ital- 
 ian carrying a dagger. The citizen was a young 
 merchant who had lately been on the Continent, 
 and who had, in some of the Italian states, been 
 prohibited by the magistrates from wearing a weap- 
 on, even for the defense of his life. Naturally in- 
 dignant at seeing an Italian doing in the capital of 
 England what an Englishman was not allowed to 
 do in the cities of Italy, the merchant ventured upon 
 stopping the foreigner and reminding him of the 
 laws of his own country. 
 
 Not having any relish for being thus challenged, 
 the Italian answered with some degree of insolence ; 
 and the Englishman, stung to the quick, forcibly 
 seized the dagger of the foreigner, " and," according 
 to the chroniclers of the period, " with the same a 
 little cut his crown and cracked his pate." En- 
 raged at this assault, the Italian complained of the 
 outrage to the lord mayor; and the Englishman, 
 having been summoned to the court at Guildhall, 
 was committed to Newgate.
 
 ENGLAND FOR THE ENGLISH. 77 
 
 Between the London merchants of that day and 
 the foreigners carrying on business in London no 
 good-will existed. Free trade was not the fashion 
 of the age ; and the inhabitants of the city, hating 
 the Italians for interfering with their commerce, 
 were ready on any fitting occasion to rise to the 
 tune of "England for the English." No sooner, 
 therefore, was it known that an Englishman had 
 been incarcerated for breaking an Italian's head 
 than he was regarded as a martyr to his patriotism ; 
 and the Londoners, assembling in crowds, compel- 
 led the mayor to deliver the merchant from prison, 
 and took the opportunity of attacking the houses 
 of all the Italians in London. The mayor, in the 
 utmost alarm, summoned the elder and graver of the 
 citizens to his assistance ; and these, with much dif- 
 ficulty, prevailed on the crowd to disperse to their 
 homes. As for the merchant, not seeing any securi- 
 ty under the circumstances, he repaired to Westmin- 
 ster, and there took refuge in the sanctuary. 
 
 The riot in London created considerable sensa- 
 tion ; and, unfortunately, the queen, as if she had 
 not already business enough on her hands, took 
 upon herself to interfere, and expressed her intention 
 of inflicting signal punishment on the offenders. 
 With that purpose in view, she instructed two of her 
 dukes, Buckingham and Exeter, to proceed to the 
 city ; and these noblemen, with the mayor and two 
 justices, opened a commission at Guildhall.
 
 78 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 At first the business was conducted with all due 
 form, and the inquiry was ceremoniously prosecuted. 
 Suddenly, however, a great change occurred in the 
 city. Bow bell was rung, and at its sound the 
 streets filled with armed men, who appeared bent 
 on mischief. The queen's high-born commissioners 
 were, doubtless, as much taken by surprise as if Jack 
 Cade had come to life again ; and, probably, not un- 
 mindful of Lord Say's fate, they abandoned the in- 
 quiry in a state of trepidation hardly consisting with 
 the dignity of a Stafford and a Holland. The city, 
 however, was nothing the worse for their absence ; 
 indeed, the lord mayor, having thus got rid of his 
 lordly coadjutors, called some discreet citizens to his 
 aid, and dealt so prudently with the multitude, that 
 order was restored and justice satisfied. 
 
 The part enacted by the queen, in regard to the 
 quarrel between the English and Italians, destroyed 
 the last particle of affection which the inhabitants 
 of London entertained for the house of Lancaster ; 
 and Margaret, for many reasons, began to prefer 
 Coventry to the metropolis. This, however, was not 
 the only result of her interference. In the eyes of 
 foreigners it elevated the riot to the dignity of an 
 insurrection, the French mistaking it for one of 
 those revolutions in which the Parisians, under 
 the auspices of Jean de Troyes and Jean Caboche, 
 were in the habit of indulging during the reign of 
 the unfortunate Charles.
 
 INVASION BY THE FRENCH. 79 
 
 The French were excusable in their delusion. 
 With an insane king and a reckless queen in both 
 cases the parallel was somewhat close. But the 
 French soon discovered their mistake. Having fit- 
 ted out two expeditions to avail themselves of our 
 domestic disorders, they intrusted one to Lord de 
 Pomyers, and the other to Sir Peter de Breze. Pom- 
 yers landed on the coast of Cornwall, and having 
 burned Towey, sailed back to France without doing 
 serious mischief. Breze, with four thousand men, 
 embarked at Honfleur, made a descent on Sand- 
 wich, and proceeded to spoil the town, which had 
 been deserted by its defenders on account of the 
 plague ; but, the country people in the neighborhood 
 arriving in great numbers, the invaders were fain to 
 return to their ships. 
 
 Such was the end of the riot in London ; and from 
 that time the metropolitan populace adhered to the 
 chiefs of the White Rose ; and to that badge of 
 hereditary pride and personal honor they clung with 
 fidelity long after it had lost its bloom in the atmos- 
 phere of a corrupt court, and been dyed red on scaf- 
 fold and battle-field in the blood of the noble and 
 the brave.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A YORKIST VICTORY AND A LANCASTRIAN REVENGE. 
 
 IN the summer of 1459 Margaret of Anjou car- 
 ried the Prince of Wales on a progress through 
 Chester, of which he was earl. The queen's object 
 being to enlist the sympathies of the men of the 
 north, she caused her son, then in his sixth year, to 
 present a silver swan, which had been assumed as 
 his badge, to each of the principal adherents of the 
 house of Lancaster. Margaret had left the County 
 Palatine, and was resting from her fatigues at Ec- 
 cleshall, in Staffordshire, when she received intelli- 
 gence that the Yorkists were in motion; that the 
 duke was arraying the retainers of Mortimer beneath 
 the Plantagenet banner ; that Warwick was on his 
 way from Calais with a body of warriors trained to 
 arms by Bedford and Talbot ; and that Salisbury, 
 at the head of five thousand merry men of York- 
 shire, was moving from Middleham Castle to join his 
 son and his brother-in-law at Ludlow. 
 
 Notwithstanding the rout of her friends at St. 
 Albans, Margaret was not daunted at the prospect 
 of another trial of strength. Perhaps, indeed, she 
 rather rejoiced that the Yorkist chiefs afforded a fair
 
 THE BATTLE OF BLORE. 81 
 
 opportunity of executing her vengeance and effect- 
 ing their ruin. Her measures, Avith that purpose, 
 were taken with characteristic promptitude. She 
 issued orders to James Touchet, Lord Audley, to in- 
 tercept Salisbury's march; and at the same time 
 summoned Thomas, Lord Stanley, to join the Lan- 
 castrian army with all his forces. Stanley, who was 
 son-in-law of Salisbury, answered that he would 
 come in all haste, but failed to keep his promise. 
 Audley, however, exhibited more devotion to the 
 Red Rose. On receiving the queen's commands, he 
 undertook to bring her one Yorkist chief dead or 
 alive ; and hastily assembling a force of ten thousand 
 men in Cheshire and Shropshire, boldly threw him- 
 self between the earl and the duke. On the even- 
 ing of Saturday, the 22d of September, Audley came 
 face to face with Salisbury at Bloreheath, within a 
 short distance of Drayton, anciently the seat of those 
 Bassets who fought with so much distinction in the 
 wars of the first Edward. 
 
 The position of the Yorkists was the reverse of 
 pleasant. The Lancastrian army was greatly supe- 
 rior in number, and Audley had the advantage of 
 being posted by the side of a stream, of which the 
 banks were particularly steep. But Salisbury was 
 not to be baffled. Seeing that there was little 
 prospect of success in the event of his crossing to 
 attack, the earl resolved on a military stratagem, 
 F
 
 82 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 and gave orders that his army should encamp for the 
 night. 
 
 Early on the morning of Sunday it was St. 
 Tecla's Day Salisbury set his men in motion ; and, 
 having caused his archers to send a flight of shafts 
 across the river toward Audley's camp, feigned to 
 retreat. Audley soon showed that he was no match 
 for such an enemy. Completely deceived, the Lan- 
 castrian lord roused his troops to action, caused his 
 trumpets to sound, and gave orders for his army pass- 
 ing the river. His orders were promptly obeyed. 
 The men of Cheshire, who composed the van, dash- 
 ed into the water, and plunged through the stream ; 
 but scarcely had they commenced ascending the op- 
 posite banks when Salisbury turned, and attacked 
 them with that degree of courage against which su- 
 periority of numbers is vain. The battle was, nev- 
 ertheless, maintained for hours, and proved most 
 sanguinary. The loss of the Yorkists was indeed 
 trifling,* but more than two thousand of the Bed 
 
 * ' ' But the carl's two sons the one called Sir John Nev- 
 ille, and the other Sir Thomas were sore wounded; which, 
 slowly journeying into the north country, thinking there to 
 repose themselves, were in their journey apprehended by the 
 queen's friends, and conveyed to Chester. But their keep- 
 ers delivered them shortly, or else the Marchmen had de- 
 stroyed the jails. Such favor had the commons of Wales to 
 the Duke of York's band and his affinity, that they could suf-
 
 THE CAMP AT LUDLOW. 83 
 
 Rose warriors perished in the encounter. Audley 
 himself was slain, and with him some of the fore- 
 most gentlemen of Cheshire and Lancashire, among 
 whom were the heads of the families of Venables, 
 Molyneux, Legh, and Egerton. The queen, who 
 witnessed the defeat of her adherents from the tower 
 of a neighboring church, fled back to digest her mor- 
 tification at Eccleshall. 
 
 The Earl of Salisbury soon found that his success 
 was calculated to convert neutrals into allies. Lord 
 Stanley, on receiving the queen's message, had gath- 
 ered a force of two thousand men ; but, being re- 
 luctant to commit himself on either side, he con- 
 trived, on the day of battle, to be six miles from the 
 scene of action. On hearing of the result, how- 
 ever, he sent a congratulatory letter to his father- 
 in-law; and Salisbury, showing the epistle to Sir 
 John Harrington, and others of his knights, said, 
 jocosely, " Sirs, be merry, for we have yet more 
 friends." 
 
 The contest between York and Lancaster now as- 
 sumed a new aspect. Salisbury, rejoicing in a vic- 
 tory so complete as that of Bloreheath, formed a 
 junction with York at Ludlow ; and the duke, per- 
 ceiving that moderation had been of so little avail, 
 
 fer no wrong to be done, nor evil word to be spoken of him 
 or of his friends." Hall's Union of the Families of Lancas- 
 ter and York.
 
 84 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 and believing that his life would be in danger so long 
 as Margaret of Anjou ruled England, resolved hence- 
 forth upon pursuing a bolder course. He could not 
 help remembering that he was turned of forty, an 
 age at which, as the poet tells us, there is no dally- 
 ing with life ; and he began to consider that the time 
 had arrived to claim the crown which was his by 
 hereditary right. 
 
 Having resolved no longer, by timidity in politics, 
 to play the game of his enemies, York set up his 
 standard and summoned his friends to Ludlow. 
 Fighting men came from various parts of England, 
 and assembled cheerily and in good order at the ren- 
 dezvous ; while, to take part in the civil war, War- 
 wick brought from Calais those veterans who, in 
 other days, had signalized their valor against foreign 
 foes. The projects of the Yorkists seemed to flour- 
 ish. Salisbury's experience, knowledge, and mili- 
 tary skill were doubtless of great service to his 
 friends ; and having thrown up intrenchmeuts, and 
 disposed in battery a number of bombards and can- 
 non, they confidently awaited the enemy. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Lancastrians were by no means in 
 despair. The king, having, with the aid of the young 
 Dukes of Somerset and Exeter, drawn together a 
 mighty army at Worcester, sent the Bishop of Salis- 
 bury to promise the Yorkists a general pardon if 
 they would lay down their arms. The Yorkists,
 
 ANDREW TROLLOPE'S TREACHERY. 85 
 
 however, had learned by severe experience what the 
 king's promises were worth, and received the bishop 
 like men who were no longer to be deluded. " So 
 long," said they, ' ; as the queen has supreme power, 
 we have no faith in the king's pardon ; but," they 
 added, " could we have assurance of safety, we should 
 express our loyalty, and humbly render ourselves at 
 the king's service." 
 
 The king, having received the answer of the in- 
 surgent chiefs, advanced on the 13th of October to 
 the Yorkist camp, and made proclamation, that who- 
 ever abandoned the duke should have the royal par- 
 don. Though this appeared to be without effect, 
 the king's army did not commence the attack. In- 
 deed, the Yorkist ranks were most imposing, and 
 the duke's guns wrought considerable havoc in the 
 Lancastrian lines. Observing the formidable atti- 
 tude of his foes, the king resolved to delay the as- 
 sault until the morrow ; and, ere the sun again shone, 
 an unexpected incident had changed the face of mat- 
 ters, and thrown the Yorkists into utter confusion. 
 
 Among those who heard the king's proclamation 
 was Andrew Trollope, captain of the veterans whom 
 Warwick had brought from Calais. This mighty 
 man-at-arms had served long in the French wars, 
 and cared not to draw his sword against the son of 
 the Conqueror of Agincourt. After listening to the 
 king's offers of pardon, and considering the conse-
 
 86 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 quences of refusing them, Trollope resolved upon de- 
 serting ; and, at dead of night, he quietly carried off 
 the Calais troops, and making for the royal camp, 
 revealed the whole of York's plans. 
 
 When morning dawned, and Trollope's treachery 
 was discovered, the adherents of the "White Rose 
 were in dismay and consternation. Every man be- 
 came suspicious of his neighbor ; and the duke was 
 driven to the conclusion that he must submit to cir- 
 cumstances. No prospect of safety appearing but 
 in flight, York, with his second son, the ill-fated Earl 
 of Rutland, departed into Wales, and thence went to 
 Ireland; while Salisbury and Warwick, with the 
 duke's eldest son, Edward, escaped to Devonshire, 
 bought a ship at Exinouth, sailed to Guernsey, and 
 then passed over to Calais. 
 
 The king, on finding that his enemies had fled, 
 became very bold ; and having spoiled the town and 
 castle of Ludlow, and taken the Duchess of York 
 prisoner, he called a Parliament. As measures were 
 to be taken to extinguish the Yorkists, no temporal 
 peer, unless known as a stanch adherent of the Red 
 Rose, received a summons ; and Coventry was se- 
 lected as the scene of revenge ; for, since the unfor- 
 tunate result of the Commission at Guildhall, the 
 queen looked upon London as no place for the exe- 
 cution of those projects on which she had set her 
 heart. Away from the metropolis, however, Mar-
 
 DLOREHEATH AVENGED. 87 
 
 garet found herself in a position to do as she pleased ; 
 and at Coventry Bloreheath was fearfully avenged. 
 With little regard to law, and still less regard to 
 prudence, the most violent courses were pursued: 
 York, Salisbury, Wai-wick, and their friends, were 
 declared traitors ; and their estates, being confiscated, 
 were bestowed on the queen's favorites. The chiefs 
 of the White Rose appeared utterly ruined ; and 
 England was once more at the feet of " The Foreign 
 Woman."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF NORTHAMPTON. 
 
 IN the month of June, 1460, while the Duke of 
 York was in Ireland, while Margaret of Anjou was 
 with her feeble husband at Coventry, and while 
 Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, York's son-in-law, 
 was, as lord high admiral, guarding the Channel 
 with a strong fleet, Richard Neville, Earl of War- 
 wick, sailed from Calais for the shores of England. 
 It was in vain that Exeter endeavored to do his 
 duty as admiral ; for on the sea as on the land, " The 
 Stout Earl" was a favorite hero, and the sailors re- 
 fused to haul an anchor or hoist a sail to prevent 
 his landing. At Sandwich he safely set foot on En- 
 glish ground, and prepared to strike a shattering 
 blow at the house of Lancaster. 
 
 Warwick was accompanied by the Earl of Salis- 
 bury and the Earl of March ; but the army with 
 which he came to change the dynasty did not con- 
 sist of more than fifteen hundred men. The earl, 
 however, was not dismayed at the weakness of his 
 force. Indeed, his own great name was a tower of 
 strength ; and when, on landing, ho proclaimed that 
 his motive for taking up arms was to deliver his
 
 LANDING OF THE YORKISTS. 89 
 
 countrymen from oppression, and to maintain the 
 ancient laws and liberties of England, he knew that 
 the people would rally around his banner. Ere this, 
 the White Rose, in addition to being the emblem of 
 hereditary right, had become identified with the 
 cause of civil and religious freedom. 
 
 The earl's confidence in the people of England was 
 not misplaced. As he marched toward London, the 
 fighting men of Kent and of all the south flocked to 
 his standard, and on reaching Blackheath he was at 
 the head of thirty thousand men. As the patrician 
 hero entered the capital he was hailed with enthu- 
 siasm, and cheered with the hope of crowning his 
 enterprise with success. 
 
 The king and queen were still at Coventry when 
 informed of Warwick's landing, and Margaret lost 
 no time in taking measures to resist the Yorkist in- 
 vasion. Money was borrowed from tho Lancastrian 
 clergy and nobles, and troops, under Percies, Staf- 
 fords, Beauforts, Talbots, and Beaumonts, gathered 
 rapidly to the royal standard. The respect which, 
 on his heroic father's account, people still entertain- 
 ed for Henry, and the fear with which Margaret in- 
 spired them, were powerful motives ; and a great 
 army having been assembled, the Lancastrian king 
 and his haughty spouse, accompanied by Somerset 
 and Buckingham, removed to Northampton, and took 
 up their quarters in the Friary.
 
 90 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Meanwhile, leaving his father in London to defend 
 the city and besiege the Tower, still held for the 
 king by Lord Scales, Warwick marched through the 
 midland counties. Having taken up a position be- 
 tween Towcester and Northampton, he sent the Bish- 
 op of Salisbury to the king with pacific overtures. 
 The bishop returned without satisfaction, and War- 
 wick, having thrice ineffectually attempted to obtain 
 an audience of the king, gave the Lancastrians no- 
 tice to prepare for battle. 
 
 The queen was not less willing than the earl to 
 try conclusions. Believing the Lancastrians equal 
 to an encounter with the army of Warwick, she ad- 
 dressed her partisans, and encouraged them with 
 promises of honors and rewards. Confident in their 
 strength, she ordered them to cross the Nene ; and, 
 Lord Grey dc Ruthin leading the van, the royal 
 army passed through the river, and encamped hard 
 by the Abbey of Delapre in the meadows to the 
 south of the town. There the Lancastrians encom- 
 passed themselves with high banks and deep trenches; 
 and, having fortified their position with piles, and 
 sharp stakes, and artillery, they awaited the approach 
 of the Yorkist foe. 
 
 Warwick was not the man to keep his enemies long 
 waiting under such circumstances. After charging 
 his soldiers to strike down every knight and noble, 
 but to spare the common men, he prepared for the
 
 THE CONFLICT. 91 
 
 encounter; and, ere the morning of the 9th of July 
 it was gloomy and wet dawned on the towers 
 and turrets of the ancient town on the winding 
 Nene, his army was in motion. Setting their faces 
 northward, the Yorkists passed the cross erected two 
 centuries earlier in memory of Eleanor of Castile, 
 and in feudal array advanced upon the foe " The 
 Stout Earl" towering in front, and Edward of March, 
 York's youthful heir, following with his father's 
 banner.* 
 
 At news of Warwick's approach, the Lancastrian 
 chiefs aroused themselves to activity, donned their 
 mail, mounted their steeds, set their men in battle 
 order, and then alighted to fight on foot. The king, 
 in his tent, awaited the issue of the conflict ; but 
 Margaret of Anjou repaired to an elevated situa- 
 tion, and thither carried her son, to witness the fight. 
 Her hopes were doubtless high, for gallant looked 
 the army that was to do battle in her cause, and 
 well provided were the Lancastrians with the artil- 
 lery which had, in the previous autumn, rendered 
 the Yorkists so formidable at Ludlow. 
 
 * "At that period, the men-at-arms, or heavy cavalry, 
 went to battle in complete armor ; each man carried a lance, 
 sword, dagger, and occasionally a mace or battle-axe ; his 
 horse, also, was, to a certain extent, in armor. A consider- 
 able part of an English army consisted of archers, armed 
 with long bows and arrows ; and another part consisted of 
 men armed with bills, pikes, pole-axes, glaives, and morris- 
 pikes." Brooke's Visits to Fields of Battle.
 
 92 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 By seven o'clock the Yorkists assailed the in- 
 trenched camp at Delapre, and the war-cries of the 
 Lancastrian leaders answered the shouts of Warwick 
 and March. At first the contest was vigorously 
 maintained ; but, unfortunately for the queen's hopes, 
 the rain had rendered the artillery incapable of do- 
 ing the service that had been anticipated. In spite 
 of this disheartening circumstance, the warriors of 
 the Red Rose bravely met their antagonists, and both 
 Yorkists and Lancastrians fought desperately and 
 well. But, in the heat of action, Lord Grey de 
 Ruthin, betraying his trust, deserted to the enemy. 
 Consternation thereupon fell upon the king's army, 
 and the Yorkists having, with the aid of Lord Grey's 
 soldiers, got within the intrenchments. wrought fear- 
 ful havoc. The conflict was, nevertheless, main- 
 tained with obstinacy till nine o'clock ; but after 
 two hours of hard fighting the king's men were seen 
 flying in all directions, and many, while attempting 
 to cross the Nene, were drowned in its waters. 
 
 In consequence of Warwick's order to spare the 
 commons, the slaughter fell chiefly on the knights 
 and nobles. The Duke of Buckingham, the Earl 
 of Shrewsbury, Thomas Percy, Lord Egremont, and 
 John, Viscount Beaumont, were among the slain. 
 Somerset narrowly escaped, and fled after the queen 
 in the direction of North Wales. 
 
 When intelligence of Warwick's victory reached
 
 DEFEAT OF LANCASTRIANS. 93 
 
 London, the populace broke loose from all restraint. 
 Lord Scales, who, while keeping the Tower, had in- 
 curred their hatred, disguised himself and endeavor- 
 ed to escape. The watermen, however, recognized 
 him, and, notwithstanding his threescore years, cut 
 off his head and cast the body carelessly on the sands. 
 Thomas Thorpe, one of the barons of the Exchequer, 
 met a similar fate. While attempting to fly, he 
 was captured and committed to the Tower ; but aft- 
 erward he was taken possession of by the mob, and 
 executed at Highgate. With such scenes enacting 
 before their eyes, the citizens recognized the neces- 
 sity of a settled government ; and the adherents of 
 the White Rose intimated to their chief the expe- 
 diency of his immediate return from Ireland. 
 
 King Henry, after the defeat of his adherents at 
 Northampton, was found in his tent, lamenting the 
 slaughter. As at St. Albans, he was treated by the 
 victors with respectful compassion, and by them con- 
 ducted, with the utmost deference, to London.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 YORK'S CLAIM TO THE CROWN. 
 
 ON the 7th of October, 1460, a Parliament, sum- 
 moned in King Henry's name, met at Westminster, 
 in the Painted Chamber, for centuries regarded with 
 veneration as the place where St. Edward had 
 breathed his last, and with admiration on account 
 of the pictures representing incidents of the Con- 
 fessor's life and canonization, executed by command 
 of the third Henry to adorn the walls. 
 
 On this occasion the king sat in the chair of state ; 
 and Warwick's brother, George Neville, Bishop of 
 Exeter, who, though not yet thirty, had been ap- 
 pointed chancellor, opened the proceedings with a 
 notable declamation, taking for his text, Congregate 
 populum, sanctificate ecclesiam. The Houses then en- 
 tered upon business, repealed all the acts passed at 
 Coventry, and declared that the Parliament there 
 held had not been duly elected. 
 
 While this was going on, the Duke of York, who 
 had landed at Chester, came toward London ; and 
 three days after the meeting of Parliament, accom- 
 panied by a splendid retinue, all armed and mount- 
 ed, he entered the capital with banners flying, trum-
 
 THE DUKE AND THE PEERS. 95 
 
 pets sounding, and a naked sword carried before him. 
 Riding along with princely dignity, the duke dis- 
 mounted at Westminster, and proceeded to the House 
 of Lords. Walking straight to the throne, he laid 
 his hand on the cloth of gold, and, pausing, looked 
 round, as if to read the sentiments of the peers in 
 the faces. At that moment the Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury, who had been with Henry, entered the 
 house, and made the usual reverence to the duke. 
 
 " Will not my Lord of York go and pay his re- 
 spects to the king?" asked the archbishop. 
 
 "I know no one," answered York, coloring, "to 
 whom / owe that title." 
 
 The archbishop, on hearing the duke's answer, 
 went back to the king ; and York, following, took 
 possession of the palace. Then, returning to the 
 house, and standing on the steps of the throne, he 
 claimed the crown of England as heir of Lionel of 
 Clarence. When the duke concluded his speech, the 
 peers sat motionless as graven images ; and perceiv- 
 ing that not a word was uttered nor a whisper ex- 
 changed, York sharply asked them to deliberate. 
 " Think of this matter, my lords," said he ; " I have 
 taken my course, take yours." 
 
 The duke left the house in some chagrin, and 
 the peers took his request into consideration. Aft- 
 er discussing the claim to the crown as calmly 
 as if it had been an ordinary peerage case, they
 
 96 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 resolved that the question should be argued by coun- 
 sel at the bar. 
 
 Most of the lords were under essential obligations 
 to the house of Lancaster, and therefore in no haste 
 to take York's claim into consideration. When a 
 week elapsed, therefore, the duke deemed it politic 
 to send a formal demand of the crown, and to re- 
 quest an immediate answer. The peers, somewhat 
 startled, replied that they refused justice to no man. 
 but in this case could decide nothing without the 
 advice and consent of the king. Henry was con- 
 sulted ; and he recommended that the judges should 
 be summoned to give their opinion. These legal 
 functionaries, however, declined to meddle with a 
 matter so dangerous, and the peers were under the 
 necessity of proceeding without the aid of their learn- 
 ing and experience. The duke was then heard by 
 his counsel ; and, an order having been made " that 
 every man might freely and indifferently speak his 
 mind without fear of impeachment," the question 
 was debated several days. 
 
 All this time York lodged in the palace of West- 
 minster, where Henry then was, but refused to see 
 his royal kinsman, or to hold any communication 
 with him till the peers had decided on the justice of 
 his claim ; he knew no one, he said, to whom he 
 owed the title of king. 
 
 At length the peers arrived at a decision; and
 
 A COMPROMISE. 97 
 
 the youthful chancellor, by order of the house, pro- 
 nounced judgment. It was to the effect that Rich- 
 ard Plantagenet had made out his claim ; but that, 
 in consideration of Henry having from infancy worn 
 the crown, he should be allowed to continue king 
 for life, and that York, who meanwhile was to hold 
 the reins of government, should ascend the throne 
 after his royal kinsman's death. This compromise 
 of a delicate dispute seemed to please both parties. 
 On the vigil of the feast of All Saints, York and two 
 of his sons appeared in Parliament, and took an oath 
 to abide by the decision ; on All Saints Day the 
 heir of John of Gaunt and the heir of Lionel of 
 Clarence rode together to St. Paul's in token of 
 friendship ; and on the Saturday following the duke 
 was, by sound of trumpet, proclaimed Protector of 
 the realm and heir to the crown. 
 
 The king appeared quite unconcerned at the turn 
 which affairs had taken, and York had no appre- 
 hensions of a man who was never happy but when 
 giving himself up to devotional exercises. The 
 duke, however, was not indifferent to the enmity 
 of Margaret of Anjou, and he felt anxious to se- 
 cure himself against her hostility. He therefore 
 sent a summons to bring her son without delay to 
 Westminster, intending in case of disobedience to 
 banish her from among a people on whom she had 
 brought so many misfortunes. The Protector, it 
 G
 
 OS THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 soon appeared, had under-estimated the resources, 
 the energy, the terrible enthusiasm of the daughter 
 of King Rene. He sent his messengers, as it were, 
 to hunt a wild-cat, and he found, to his cost, that 
 they had roused a fierce tigress.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE QUEEN'S FLIGHT AND RETURN. 
 
 WHEN Margaret of Anjou, from the rising ground 
 at Northampton, saw her knights and nobles bite 
 the dust, and descried the banner of Richard Plan- 
 tagenet borne in triumph through the broken ranks 
 of the Lancastrian army, she mounted in haste and 
 fled with her son toward the bishopric of Durham. 
 Changing her mind, however, the unfortunate queen 
 drew her rein, turned aside, and made for North 
 Wales. 
 
 The way was beset with danger. As Margaret 
 was passing through Lancashire she was robbed of 
 her jewels ; and while, with bitter feelings, pursuing 
 her flight through Cheshire she was attacked by a 
 retainer of Sir William Stanley. Having escaped 
 these perils, and been joined by Somerset, the fair 
 Anjouite sought refuge in Harleck Castle, which 
 had been built on the site of an ancient British 
 fortress by the first Edward, and which was held 
 for that mighty monarch's feeble descendant by a 
 Welsh captain who rejoiced in the name of Davydd 
 ap Jefan ap Einion. 
 
 The Castle of Harleck stood on a lofty cliflf, the
 
 100 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 base of which was then washed by the ocean, though 
 now a marshy tract of ground intervenes. From 
 the sea, with such a rock to scale, the strong-hold 
 was well-nigh impregnable ; while on the land side 
 it was defended by massive walls, by a large fosse, 
 and by round towers and turrets, which covered ev- 
 ery approach. Owen Glendower had, during four 
 years, maintained the place against the fifth Henry; 
 and the sturdy " Davydd" would not have shrunk 
 from defending it against a Yorkist army, even if led 
 by Warwick in per.-oi. 
 
 At Harleck .Margaret passed months, brooding 
 over the past, uncertain as to the present, and anx- 
 ious about the future. At times, indeed, she must 
 have forgotten her misfortune?, as, from the battle- 
 ments of the castle, she gaze:l with the eye of a 
 poetess over the intervening mountains to where the 
 peaks of Snowdon seem to mingle with the clouds. 
 At length she, was startled by intelligence of the 
 settlement made by Parliament, and by a summons 
 from York, as Protector, to appear at "NVestinins'.ir 
 with her son. 
 
 Margaret might well crimson with shame and 
 anger. The terms on which the dispute between 
 York and Lancaster had been compromised recalled 
 all the injurious rumors as to the oirth of her son ; 
 and her maternal feelings were shocked at the ex- 
 clusion of the boy-prince from the throne he had
 
 FROM HARLECK TO DUMFRIES. 101 
 
 I-- n born to inherit.* Submission was, under these 
 circumstances, impossible to such a woman. She 
 was not yet thirty, decidedly too young to abandon 
 hope ; and she was conscious of having already, in 
 seasons of danger, exhibited that energy which is 
 hope in action. The idea of yet trampling in the 
 dust the three magnates by whom she had been 
 humbled, took possession of her mind ; and, unaided 
 save by beauty, eloquence, and those accomplish- 
 ments which, fifteen years earlier, had made her 
 famous at the courts of Europe, she started for the 
 north with the determination of regaining the crown 
 which she had already found so thorny. The dis- 
 tressed queen embarked on the Menai ; and her 
 destination was Scotland. 
 
 One day in the autumn of 14GO, James, King of 
 Scots, the second of his name, while attempting to 
 wrest Roxburgh Castle from the English, was killed 
 by the bursting of a cannon, and succeeded by his 
 son, a boy in his seventh year. The obsequies of 
 
 * "One of the greatest obstacles to the cause of the Bed 
 Rose, was the popular belief that the young prince was not 
 Henry's POII. Had that belief not been widely spread and 
 firmly maintained, the lords who arbitrated between Henry 
 VI. and Richard, Duke of York, in October, 1460, could 
 scarcely have come to the resolution to set aside the Prince 
 < f AVales altogether, to accord Henry the crown for his life, 
 and declare the Duke of York his heir." Sir E. B. LyttotCa 
 Lnrt of the Barons.
 
 102 THE WARS OF THE KOSES. 
 
 the deceased monarch were scarcely celebrated, 
 when intelligence reached the Scottish court that 
 Margaret of Anjou had, with her son, arrived at 
 Dumfries ; that she had met with a reception befit- 
 ting a royal personage ; and that she had taken up 
 her residence in the College of Lincluden. 
 
 Mary of Gueldres, the widowed Queen of Scots, 
 was about Margaret's own age. Moreover, Mary- 
 was a princess of great beauty, of masculine tak-nt, 
 and of the blood royal of France. Surrounded by 
 the iron barons of a rude country, her position was 
 not quite so pleasant as a bed of roses ; and she 
 could hardly help sympathizing with the desolate 
 condition of her distant kinswoman. Hastening 
 with her son to Dumfries, she held a conference 
 that lasted for twelve days. 
 
 At the conference of Lincluden every thing went 
 smoothly. Much wine was consumed. A close 
 friendship was formed between the queens. A 
 marriage was projected between the Prince of 
 Wales and a princess of Scotland. Margaret's 
 spirit rose high ; her hopes revived ; and encour- 
 aged by promises of aid, she resolved on no less 
 desperate an adventure than marching to London 
 and rescuing her husband from the grasp of " the 
 Triumvirate." 
 
 The enterprise decided on, no time was lost. An 
 army was mustered in the frontier counties with a
 
 THE NORTH IN ARMS. 103 
 
 rapidity which, it would seem, York and his friends 
 had never regarded as possible. The great barons 
 of the north, however, had never manifested any 
 tenderness for the White Rose ; and they remem- 
 bered with indignation that hitherto their southern 
 peers had carried every thing before them. Eager 
 to vindicate their importance, and inspired by Mar- 
 garet with an enthusiasm almost equal to her own, 
 the Nevilles of Westmoreland, the Percies of North- 
 umberland, and the Cliffords of Cumberland, sum- 
 moned their fighting men, and at the same time en- 
 deavored, by promises of plunder south of the Trent, 
 to allure the foraying clans to their standard. 
 
 The Borderers boasted that their property was in 
 their swords ; and they were seldom slow to ride 
 when the prospect of booty was presented to their 
 imaginations. They went to church as seldom as 
 the twenty-ninth of February conies into the calen- 
 dar, and never happened to comprehend that there 
 was a seventh commandment. When on forays, 
 they took every thing that was not too heavy ; and 
 were sometimes far from satisfied with the exception. 
 Such men hailed with delight the prospect of plun- 
 dering the rich South. From peels and castellated 
 houses they came, wearing rusting armor, and mount- 
 ed on lean steeds, but steady of heart, stout of hand, 
 and ready, without thought of fear, to charge against 
 knight or noble, no matter how proof his mail or
 
 104 T11K WARS OF THK HUSKS 
 
 high his renown in arms. The Borderers cured noth- 
 ing for York or Lancaster; and would have fought 
 as readily for the White Uose as the Eed. But the 
 spoil south of the Trent was u noble pri/e ; and they 
 gathered to the queen's standard like eagles to their 
 prey. 
 
 Finding herself at the head of eighteen thousand 
 men, Margaret of Anjou pressed boldly .southward. 
 Even the season was such as would have daunted 
 an ordinary woman. When operations commenced, 
 the year 1100 was about to expire; the grass had 
 withered ; the streams were darkened with the ruin-; 
 of December ; the leaves had fallen ; and the wind 
 whistled through the naked branches of the trees. 
 ^Margaret, far from shrinking, defied all hardships ; 
 and the spectacle of a queen, so young and beauti- 
 ful, enduring fatigue and daring danger, excited the 
 admiration and increased loyalty of her adherents. 
 With every inclination to execute a signal revenge, 
 she appeared before the gates of York ; and march- 
 ed from that city toward Sandal Castle.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE ANJOUITE'S VENGEANCE. 
 
 As the autumn of 1460 was deepening into win- 
 ter, a rumor reached London that Margaret of Anjou 
 was raising troops on the borders of England. The 
 Duke of York, though not seriously alarmed, was 
 apprehensive of an insurrection in the north ; and, 
 marching from the metropolis, with an army of five 
 thousand men, he, on Christmas-eve, arrived at San- 
 dal Castle, which stood on an eminence that slopes 
 down toward the town of Wakefield. Finding that 
 his enemies were so much more numerous than he 
 had anticipated, the Protector saw the propriety of 
 remaining in his strong-hold till re-enforced by his 
 son, who was recruiting in the marches of Wales. 
 
 The fact, however, was that Margar t had no in- 
 tention of allowing Duke Kichard to profit by de- 
 lay. Marching to Wakefield Green, she challenged 
 him to the field, and ridiculed the idea of a man hav- 
 ing aspired to a crown who was frightened to en- 
 counter an army led by a woman. Well aware, 
 however, that the battle is not always to the strong, 
 Margaret did not altogether trust in numerical su- 
 poriority. Determined to secure victory, she formed
 
 106 THE WARS OF THE ROSI 
 
 an ambuscade on either side : one under Lord Clif- 
 ford, the other under the Earl of Wiltshire ; while 
 to Somerset she intrusted the command of her main 
 army. 
 
 Meanwhile York called a council of war : Salis- 
 bury and the other chiefs of the White Rose who 
 were present strongly objected to hazarding a bat- 
 tle ; and David Hall, an old and experienced war- 
 rior, implored the duke to remain within the walls 
 of Sandal. But York considered that his honor 
 was concerned in fighting ; and, addressing himself 
 to Plall in familiar phrase, he expressed the senti- 
 ments by which he was animated. 
 
 "Ah ! Davy, Davy," said the duke, "hast thou 
 loved me so long, and wouldst now have me dishon- 
 ored ? No man ever saw me keep fortress when I 
 was Regent of Normandy, when the dauphin, with 
 his puissance, came to besiege me ; but, like a man, 
 and not like a bird inclosed in a cage, I issued, and 
 fought with mine enemies ; to their loss (I thank 
 GOD), and ever to my honor. If I have not kept 
 myself within walls for fear of a great and strong 
 prince, nor hid my face from any living mortal, 
 wouldst thou that I should incarcerate and shut my- 
 self up for dread of a scolding woman, whose weap- 
 ons are her tongue and nails? All men would cry 
 wonder, and report dishonor, that a woman made 
 a dastard of me, whom no man could ever, to this
 
 WAKEFIELD GREEN. 107 
 
 day, report as a coward. And, surely, my mind 
 is rather to die with honor than to live with shame. 
 Their numbers do not appall me. Assuredly I will 
 fight with them, if I fight alone. Therefore, ad- 
 vance my banners, in the name of GOD and St. 
 George!" 
 
 Seeing the duke determined to hazard a field, 
 Salisbury and the other captains arrayed their men 
 for battle ; and the Yorkists, sallying from the cas- 
 tle, descended to meet the foe on Wakefield Green. 
 The duke supposed that the troops under Somerset 
 were all with whom he had to contend ; and the 
 brave warrior, now in his fiftieth year, advanced 
 fearlessly to the encounter. Never was Plantagenet 
 more completely deceived. When between Sandal 
 Castle and the town of Wakefield, York was sud- 
 denly assailed, by Clifford on the right hand, and 
 by Wiltshire on the left ; but, though environed on 
 every side, the duke did not yield to fate without 
 a desperate struggle. On both sides, the soldiers 
 fought with savage fury; and the Yorkists, con- 
 scious of superior discipline, were for a while hope- 
 ful of victory. At a critical moment, however, 
 Margaret brought up a body of Borderers, and or- 
 dered them to attack the Yorkists in the rear ; and 
 the effect was instantaneous. The northern prickers 
 laid their spears in rest, spurred their lean steeds, 
 and charged the warriors of the White Rose with a
 
 105 THE WARS OF THE KOSE>. 
 
 vigor that defied resistance. The victory was com- 
 plete ; and of live thousand men, whom York had 
 brought into the field, nearly three thousand were 
 stretched on the slippery sod. The bold duke was 
 among the iirst who fell. With him were .-lain his 
 faithful squire, David Hall, and many lords and gen- 
 tlemen of the south among whom were Sir Thomas 
 Neville, Salisbury's son ; and William Bonville. Lord 
 Harrington, the husband of Katharine Neville. Salis- 
 bury's daughter. 
 
 An incident as melancholy as any connected with 
 the Wars of the Roses row occurred. York's son, 
 Edmund, Earl of Rutland, being in the castle of 
 Sandal, had gone with his tutor, Sir Robert Aspall, 
 to witness the fight. They dreaded no danger, for 
 Aspall was a priest, and Rutland was a fair boy of 
 twelve, and innocent as a lamb. Seeing, however, 
 that the fortune of the day was against York, the 
 tutor hurried the young earl from the field ; but as 
 they were crossing the bridge, Lord Clifford rode up 
 and asked the boy's name. The young earl fell on 
 his knees, and, being too much agitated to speak, 
 implored mercy by holding up his hands. 
 
 "Spare him," said the tutor; "lie is a prince's 
 son, and may hereafter do you good." 
 
 York's son !" exclaimed Clifford, eying the boy 
 savagely. > By (Ion's blood, thy father slew mine, 
 and so will I thee and all thy kin."
 
 OLIFFOBB STABBING EUTIAN
 
 THE MURDER OF RUTLAND. Ill 
 
 Deaf to the tutor's prayers and entreaties, " the 
 black-faced lord" plunged his dagger into Rutland's 
 heart ; and as the boy expired turned to the priest, 
 who stood mute with horror. " Go," said the mur- 
 derer, " bear to his mother and his brother tidings 
 of what you have heard and seen." 
 
 After thus imbruing his hands in the blood of an 
 innocent boy, Clifford went in search of the corpse 
 of York. Having severed the duke's head from the 
 body, and put a crown of paper on the brow of the 
 dead man, and fixed the head on a pole, he present- 
 ed the ghastly trophy to the queen. " Madam," 
 said Clifford, mockingly, " your war is done ; here I 
 bring your king's ransom." Margaret of Anjou 
 laughed ; the Lancastrian lords around her laughed 
 in chorus ; there was much jesting on the occasion. 
 "Many," says Hall, "were glad of other men's 
 deaths, not knowing that their own was near at 
 hand ;" and the chronicler might have added that 
 others lived through many dreary years to rue the 
 jesting of that day. 
 
 One of the hated "Triumvirate" was now no 
 longer alive to annoy the queen ; and she was yet 
 to have another victim. Thomas Neville, the son 
 of Salisbury, was, as has been stated, among the 
 slain ; but the old earl, though wounded, had left 
 the field. He was too dangerous a foe, however, to 
 be allowed by Clifford to escape. Keenly pursued,
 
 112 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 he was taken during the night, carried to Pontefract 
 Castle, and there executed. Margaret ordered Salis- 
 bury's head, and those of York and Rutland, to be 
 set over the gates of York, as a warning to all En- 
 glishmen not to interfere with her sovereign will. 
 " Take care," she said to her myrmidons. " to leave 
 room for the head of my Lord of Warwick, for he 
 will soon come to keep his friends company." 
 
 Glowing with victory, and confident that her en- 
 terprise would be crowned whh triumph, the queen, 
 taking the great north road, pursued her march to- 
 ward the capital. Her progress was for a time un- 
 opposed. On approaching St. Albans. however, she 
 learned that the Earl of Warwick and the Duke of 
 Norfolk had left London to intercept her; that they 
 had taken possession of St. Alban? ; that they had 
 filled the streets of the town with archers, and post- 
 ed their army on the hills to the southeast. 
 
 Margaret was not dismayed at the intelligence 
 that such formidable foes were in her way. On the 
 contrary, she intimated her intention of passing 
 through St. Albans in spite of their opposition ; but 
 did not deem it safe to trust to force alone. One 
 of the ladies of her court so runs the story hap- 
 pened to have, in other days, interested Warwick, 
 and had not quite lost her influence with "The 
 Stout Earl." Upon this dame the daughter of 
 Sir Richard Woodville and the wife of John Grey
 
 SECOND BATTLE OF ST. ALBANS. 113 
 
 of Groby devolved the duty of playing the spy ; 
 and accordingly she repaired to Warwick under the 
 pretense of asking some favor. The lady was cun- 
 ning enough to act her part with discretion ; and 
 she. doubtless, brought her royal mistress intelli- 
 gence which gave the Lancastrians courage to pro- 
 ceed. 
 
 It was the morning of the 17th of February, 1461, 
 when the van of the queen's army advanced to force 
 their way through St. Albans. At first the attempt 
 was unsuccessful ; and the Lancastrians were met 
 by Warwick's bowmen with a flight of arrows that 
 caused them to fall back from the market-place. 
 Undaunted by this repulse, Margaret persevered ; 
 and, driving the archers before her, she brought her 
 soldiers into action with the main body of the York- 
 ists in a field called Bernard's Heath. 
 
 At this point the Lancastrians found their task 
 more easy than they could have anticipated. For 
 the third time during the wars of the Roses occurred 
 an instance of desertion in the face of the enemy. 
 At Ludlow, Andrew Trollope had left the Yorkists ; 
 at Northampton, Lord Grey de Ruthin had aban- 
 doned the Lancastrians ; and now Lovelace, who at 
 the head of the Kentish men led Warwick's van, 
 deserted the great earl in the hour of need. This 
 circumstance placed the victory in Margaret's pow- 
 er ; and a dashing charge made by John Grey of 
 H
 
 )U THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Groby, at the head of the Lancastrian cavalry, de- 
 cided the day in favor of the Red Rose. A running 
 fight wa*-, nevertheless, kept up over the undulating 
 ground between St. Albans and the little town of 
 Barnet ; and, a last stand having in vain been made 
 on Barnet Common, Warwick was fain to retreat 
 with the remnants of his army. 
 
 So unexpected had been the queen's victory, and 
 so sudden the earl's discomfiture, that the captive 
 king was left in solitude. However, Lord Bonville, 
 grandfather of the warrior who fell at Wakefield, 
 and Sir Thomas Kyriel, renowned in the wars of 
 France, went to the royal tent, and in courteous lan- 
 guage expressed their regret at leaving him unat- 
 tended. Henry, entreating them to remain, gave 
 them a distinct promise that in doing so they should 
 incur no danger ; and after accepting the royal word 
 as a pledge for their personal safety they consented, 
 and advised the king to intimate to the victors that 
 he would gladly join them. 
 
 A message was accordingly dispatched ; and sev- 
 eral Lancastrian lords came to convey Henry of 
 Windsor to the presence of his terrible spouse. The 
 monk-king found Margaret of Anjou and the Prince 
 of Wales in Lord Clifford's tent, and, having express- 
 ed his gratification at their meeting, rewarded the 
 fidelity of his adherents by knighting thirty of them 
 at the village of Colney. Among these were the
 
 THE QUEEN'S TENDER MERCIES. 115 
 
 Prince of Wales, and John Grey of Groby, the war- 
 rior who had broken the Yorkists' ranks, and who, 
 dying of his wounds a few days later, left a widow 
 destined to bring countless miseries on the royal race 
 whose chiefs had so long ruled England. After the 
 ceremony of knighting his partisans, Henry repaired 
 to the Abbey of St. Albans and returned thanks for 
 the victory. 
 
 While Henry was occupied with devotional exer- 
 cises, the queen was unfortunately guilty of an out- 
 rage which, even if she had been in other respects 
 faultless, must have for ever associated crime with 
 the name of Margaret of Anjou. The Lord Bon- 
 ville and Sir Thomas Kyriel had consented, as we 
 have seen, from motives of compassion and romantic 
 honor, to remain with Henry ; and the king had on 
 his part given a distinct promise that no evil should 
 befall them. But by the queen and her captains no 
 respect was paid to Henry ; in fact, much less de- 
 corum Avas observed toward him by the Lancastrians 
 than by the Yorkists. At all events Margaret, ex- 
 hibiting the utmost disregard for her husband's prom- 
 ise, ordered a scaffold to be erected at St. Albans ; 
 and, in defiance of all faith and honor, Lord Bon- 
 ville and Sir Thomas Kyriel died by the hands of 
 the executioner. 
 
 Meanwhile, Margaret's adherents were taking a 
 sure way to render her cause unpopular. Ere
 
 116 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 marching toward London the men of the north had, 
 as the price of their allegiance to the Red Rose, 
 covenanted to have the spoil south of the Trent ; 
 and, resolved not to return home empty-handed, they 
 had forayed with so much energy as to spread ter- 
 ror wherever they went. At St. Albans their rapac- 
 ity knew no limits. Not only did they plunder the 
 town with an utter disregard to the rights of prop- 
 erty, but stripped the abbey with a sacrilegious hardi- 
 hood which rapidly converted the head of that great 
 monastic house from a zealous Lancastrian to a vio- 
 lent partisan of the White Rose. 
 
 The report of the lawless scenes enacted at St. 
 Albans was carried to London, and the citizens, who 
 believed that the queen had marked them as objects 
 of her vengeance, were impressed with a sense of 
 danger, and rather eager to win back her favor. 
 When, therefore, the northern army lay at Barnet, 
 and Margaret sent to demand provisions, the mayor 
 hastened to forward some cart-loads of "lenten stuff" 
 for the use of her camp. The populace, however, 
 exhibited a courage which their wealthier neighbors 
 did not possess, and rising in a mass at Cripplegate 
 stopped the carts, and forcibly prevented the provi- 
 sions leaving the city. The mayor, in alarm, sent 
 the recorder to the king's council, and moreover in- 
 terested Lady Scales and the Duchess of Bedford to 
 intercede with the queen, and represent the impolicy
 
 NEWS FROM MORTIMER'S CROSS. 117 
 
 of exasperating the commons at such a crisis. This 
 led to another scene of lawless outrage. Some lords 
 of the council, with four hundred horsemen, headed 
 by Sir Baldwin Fulford, were sent to investigate 
 matters, and attempted to enter London at Cripple- 
 gate. Again, however, the populace fought for the 
 White Rose ; and the Lancastrian horsemen, being 
 repulsed, plundered the northern suburbs in retalia- 
 tion, and left matters infinitely worse than they had 
 previously appeared. 
 
 While affairs were in this posture Margaret's 
 heart beating high with the pride of victory a 
 price set on the head of Edward of York the 
 Lancastrian lords cherishing the prospect of venge- 
 ance " the wealth of London looking pale, know- 
 ing itself in danger from the northern army" and 
 the citizens apprehensive of being given over to the 
 tender mercies of Grahams and Armstrongs from 
 Mortimer's Cross there arrived news of battle and 
 bloodshed. The citizens resumed their feelings of 
 security ; the wealth of London appeared once more 
 safe from huge Borderers ; and Margaret of Anjou, 
 forcibly reminded that Edward Plantagenet and 
 Richard Neville yet lived to avenge their sires, pre- 
 pared to return to " Northumberland, the nursery 
 of her strength."
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A PLANTAGEXET AND THE TUDORS. 
 
 Ax the opening of the year 1461, a princely per- 
 sonage, of graceful figure and distinguished air, rath- 
 er more than twenty years of age, and rather more 
 than six feet in height, might have been seen mov- 
 ing about the city of Gloucester, whose quiet streets, 
 with old projecting houses, and whose Gothic cathe- 
 dral, with stained oriel window and lofty tower, 
 have little changed in aspect since that period. 
 The youthful stranger, who was wonderfully hand- 
 some, had golden hair flowing straight to his shoul- 
 ders, a long oval countenance, a rich but clear and 
 delicate complexion, broad shoulders, and a form 
 almost faultless. Perhaps his eye roved with too 
 eager admiration after the fair damsels who hap- 
 pened to cross his path ; but it was not for want of 
 more serious subjects with which to occupy his at- 
 tention ; for the tall, handsome youth was Edward 
 Plantagenet, Earl of March; and he had been sent 
 to the Welsh Marches to recruit soldiers to fight the 
 battles of the White Rose. 
 
 Edward of York was a native of Rouen. In that 
 city he was born in 1441, while his father ruled
 
 EDWARD OF YORK. 119 
 
 Normandy. At an early age, however, he was 
 brought to England, to be educated in Ludlow Cas- 
 tle, under the auspices of Sir Richard Croft, a war- 
 like Marchman, who had married a widow of one 
 of the Mortimers. Under the auspices of Croft and 
 of his spouse, who, at Ludlow, was known as " The 
 Lady Governess," Edward grew up a handsome 
 boy, and was, from the place of his birth, called 
 ' The Rose of Rouen," as his mother had been 
 called "The Rose of Raby." Early plunged into 
 the wars of the Roses, the heir of York never ac- 
 quired any thing like learning, but became a, warrior 
 of experience in his teens ; and, when at North- 
 ampton, bearing his father's banner, he exhibited a 
 spirit which inspired the partisans of York with 
 high hopes. 
 
 When Edward received intelligence that, on 
 Wakefield Green, his father, the Duke of York, 
 had fallen in battle against Margaret of Anjou, and 
 that his brother, the Earl of Rutland, had been bar- 
 barously murdered by Lord Clifford, the prince, in 
 the spirit of that age, vowed vengeance, and applied 
 himself with energy to execute his vow. Doubtless, 
 other objects than mere revenge presented themselves 
 to his imagination. As the grandson of Anne Mor- 
 timer, he was the legitimate heir of England's kings; 
 and he had not, during his brief career, shown any 
 of that political moderation which had prevented
 
 120 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 his father plucking the crown from the feeble 
 Henry. 
 
 The recruiting expedition on which Edward had 
 gone, accompanied by a gallant squire, named Wil- 
 liam Hastings, said to derive his descent, through 
 knights and nobles, from one of the famous sea 
 kings, was, at first, much less successful than an- 
 ticipated. The Marchmen seemed disinclined to 
 stir in a dynastic quarrel which they did not quite 
 understand. But a report that York had fallen in 
 battle, and that Rutland had been murdered in cold 
 blood, pruduced a sudden change. Men who before 
 appeared careless about taking up arms rushed to 
 the Yorkist standard ; and the retainers of the 
 house of Mortimer, on hearing that their valiant 
 lord was slain, appeared, with sad hearts and stern 
 brows, demanding to be led against the murderers. 
 
 Edward was already, in imagination, a conqueror. 
 After visiting Shrewsbury, and other towns on the 
 Severn, he found himself at the head of twenty-three 
 thousand men, ready to avenge his father's fall, and 
 vindicate his own rights. At the head of this force 
 he took his way toward London, trusting to unite 
 with Warwick, and, at one blow, crush the power 
 of the fierce Anjouite ere she reached the capital. 
 An unexpected circumstance prevented Edward's 
 hope from being so speedily realized. 
 
 Among the Welsh soldiers who fought at Agin-
 
 THE TUDORS. 121 
 
 court, and assisted in repelling the furious charge of 
 the Duke of Alencon, was Owen Tudor, the son of 
 a brewer at Beaumaris. In recognition of his cour- 
 age, Owen was named a squire of the body to the 
 hero of that day, and, a few years later, became 
 clerk of the wardrobe to the hero's widow. It hap- 
 pened that Owen, who was a handsome man, pleased 
 the eye of Katherine de Valois ; and one day, when 
 he stumbled over her dress, while dancing for the 
 diversion of the court, she excused the awkwardness 
 with a readiness which first gave her ladies a sus- 
 picion that she was not altogether insensible to his 
 manly beauty. As time passed on, Katherine united 
 her fate with his ; and, in secret, she became the 
 mother of several children. 
 
 When the sacrifice which the widowed queen had 
 made became known, shame and grief carried her to 
 the grave ; and Humphrey of Gloucester, then Pro- 
 tector, sent Owen to the Tower. He afterward re- 
 gained his liberty, but without being acknowledged 
 by the young king as a father-in-law. Indeed, of a 
 marriage between the Welsh soldier and the daugh- 
 ter of a Valois and widow of a Plantagenet no evi- 
 dence exists ; but when Edmund and Jasper, the 
 sons of Katherine, grew up, Henry gave to one the 
 Earldom of Eichmond, and to the other that of 
 Pembroke. Richmond died about the time when 
 the wars of the Roses commenced. Pembroke lived
 
 122 THE WARS OF THE [{OSES. 
 
 to enact a conspicuous part in the long and san- 
 guinary struggle. 
 
 When the Lancastrian army, flushed with victor}', 
 was advancing from Wakefield toward London, Mar- 
 garet of Anjou, hearing that Edward of York was 
 cm the Marches of Wales, resolved to send a force 
 under Jasper Tudor to intercept him ; and Jasper, 
 proud of tlie commission, undertook to bring the 
 young Plantagenet, dead or alive, to her feet. With 
 this view he persuaded his father to take part in the 
 adventure, and Owen Tudor once more drew the 
 sword which, in years gone by, he had wielded for 
 the House of Lancaster. 
 
 Edward was on his march toward London when 
 he heard that Jasper and other Welshmen were on 
 his track. The prince was startled ; but the idea 
 of an heir of the blood and name of the great Ed- 
 wards flying before Owen Tudor and his son was 
 not pleasant ; and, moreover, it was impolitic to 
 place himself between two Lancastrian armies. Con- 
 sidering these circumstances, Edward turned upon 
 his pursuers, and met them at Mortimer's Cross, in 
 the neighborhood of Hereford. 
 
 It was the morning of the 2d of February 
 Candlemas Day and Edward was arraying his 
 men for the encounter, when he perceived that the 
 "orb of day" appeared like three suns, which all 
 joined together as he looked. In those days the
 
 MORTIMER'S CROSS. 123 
 
 appearance of three suns in the sky was regarded as 
 a strange prodigy ; and Edward either believed, or 
 affected to believe, that the phenomenon was an 
 omen of good fortune. Encouraging his soldiers 
 with the hope of victory, he set fiercely upon the 
 enemy. 
 
 The Tudors, whose heads had been turned by un- 
 merited prosperity, were by no means prepared for 
 defeat. Owen, with whom a queen-dowager had 
 united her fate, and Jasper, on whom a king had 
 conferred an earldom, were too much intoxicated to 
 perceive the danger of giving chase to the heir of 
 the Plantagenets. Not till Edward turned savagely 
 to bay did they pei-ceive that, instead of starting a 
 hare, they had roused a lion. 
 
 At length the armies joined battle, and a fierce 
 conflict took place. Edward, exhibiting that skill 
 which afterward humbled the most potent of En- 
 gland's barons, saw thousands of his foes hurled to 
 the ground ; and Jasper, forgetful of his heraldic 
 precept, that death is better than disgrace, left his 
 followers to their fate and fled from the field. Owen, 
 however, declined to follow his son's example. He 
 had fought at Agincourt, he remembered, and had 
 not learned to fly. His courage did not save the 
 Welsh adherents of Lancaster from defeat ; and, in 
 spite of his efforts, he was taken prisoner with David 
 Lloyd, Morgan ap Reuther, and other Welshmen.
 
 124 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Edward had now a golden opportunity, by sparing 
 the vanquished, of setting a great example to his 
 adversaries. But the use which Margaret had made 
 of her victory at Wakefield could not be forgotten ; 
 and it seemed to be understood that henceforth no 
 quarter was to be given in the Wars of the Roses. 
 Accordingly, Owen and his friends were conveyed 
 to Hereford, and executed in the market-place. The 
 old Agincourt soldier was buried in the chapel of 
 the Grey Friars' Church ; but no monument was 
 erected by his regal descendants in memory of the 
 Celtic hero whose lucky stumble over a royal wid- 
 ow's robes resulted in his sept exchanging the ob- 
 scurity of Beaumaris for the splendor of Windsor.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BEFORE TOAVTON. 
 
 ON the 3d of March, 1461, while Margaret of An- 
 jou was leading her army toward the Humber, and 
 the citizens of London were awakening from fearful 
 dreams of northern men plundering their warehouses 
 with lawless violence, and treating their women with 
 indelicate freedom, Edward of York entered the cap- 
 ital at the head of his victorious army. Accom- 
 panied by the Earl of Warwick, by whom he had 
 been joined at Chipping Norton, the conqueror of 
 the Tudors rode through the city, and was welcomed 
 with the utmost enthusiasm. It was long since 
 London had been the scene of such loyal excitement. 
 From Kent and Essex came crowds to gaze on the 
 handsome son of Richard, Duke of York ; and many 
 were the predictions that, as a native of Rouen, Ed- 
 ward would reconquer Normandy, and retrieve those 
 losses which, under the government of Margaret of 
 Anjou, the English had sustained on the Continent. 
 
 Whatever he might pretend, Edward had none 
 of the moderation that characterized his father, and 
 he was determined without delay to ascend the 
 throne, which he had been taught to consider his by
 
 126 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 hereditary right. Anxious, however, to have the 
 popular assent to the step he was about to take, the 
 heir of the Plantagenets resolved to test the loyalty 
 of the Londoners. With this object a grand review, 
 in St. John's Fields, was proclaimed by William Nev- 
 ille, Lord Falconbridge ; and the wealthy citizens, 
 as well as the multitude, assembled to witness the 
 military pageant. Suddenly availing himself of a 
 favorable moment, Warwick's brother, the Bishop 
 of Exeter, addressed the crowd on the great dynas- 
 tic dispute, and asked them plainly whether they 
 would any longer have Henry to reign over them. 
 " Nay, nay," answered the crowd. Warwick's uncle, 
 Lord Falconbridge, having then spoken in praise of 
 Edward's valor and wisdom, asked if they would 
 have him for king. " Yea, yea King Edward, 
 King Edward," shouted the populace, with one ac- 
 cord, cheering and clapping their hands. 
 
 The Yorkist chiefs were satisfied with the result 
 of their experiment in St. John's Fields ; and next 
 day a great council was, held at Baynard's Castle. 
 After due deliberation, the peers and prelates de- 
 clared that Henry, in joining the queen's army and 
 breaking faith with Parliament, had forfeited the 
 crown ; and the heir of York, after riding in royal 
 state to Westminster, offered at St. Edward's ,-lirine, 
 assumed the Confessor's crown, ascended the throne, 
 explained the nature of his claim, and harangued
 
 EDWARD ON THE THRONE. 127 
 
 the people. His spirit and energy inspired the au- 
 dience with enthusiasm, and he was frequently in- 
 terrupted with shouts of " Long live King Edward." 
 
 On the day when the young Plantagenet took 
 possession of the English throne at Westminster, he 
 was proclaimed king in various parts of London. 
 Edward was not, however, so intoxicated with the 
 applause with which the men of the south had greet- 
 ed his arrival in the metropolis as to delude himself 
 into the idea that his triumph was complete. He 
 knew that the lords of the north would again rise 
 in arms for the Red Rose, and that battles must be 
 won, and fortresses taken, ere the crown of St. Ed- 
 ward could sit easily on his head. 
 
 Nothing, however, could be gained by delay ; and 
 Warwick was well aware of the danger of procrasti- 
 nation at such a crisis. The young king and the 
 king-maker, therefore, resolved upon marching forth- 
 with against the Lancastrians, to achieve, as they 
 hoped, a crowning victory ; and, having sent the 
 Duke of Norfolk to recruit in the provinces, they 
 made preparations to go in search of their foes. 
 
 No time was wasted. Indeed, within three days 
 of entering London, Warwick marched northward 
 with the van of the Yorkist army ; and the infantry 
 having meanwhile followed, Edward, on the 12th of 
 March, buckled on his armor, mounted his war-steed, 
 and rode out of Bishopgate to conquer or die. By
 
 128 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 easy marches the royal warrior reached Pontefract, 
 memorable as the scene of the second Richard's mur- 
 der ; and, having, while resting there, enjoyed the 
 satisfaction of seeing his army swell to the number 
 of forty-nine thousand, he dispatched Lord Fitzwal- 
 ter, with a band of tall men, to keep the passage 
 over the Aire at Ferrybridge. 
 
 Nor had Margaret failed to prepare for the in- 
 evitable conflict. When, at St. Albans, the Lancas- 
 trian queen found that her foes were still unsub- 
 dued, she speedily bore back to the northern coun- 
 ties, and commenced recruiting her army on the 
 banks of the 1 1 umber, the Trent, and the Tyne. 
 Her spirit, ever highest in the time of trouble, sus- 
 tained the courage of her adherents; and "the men 
 of the north, who now, without entering into the 
 delicate questions of hereditary right and parlia- 
 mentary settlement, sympathized with the dethroned 
 queen, came from towers by the wayside, and sheal- 
 ings on the moor, till around the Lancastrian ban- 
 ner at York mustered an army of sixty thousand. 
 
 On hearing of Edward's approach the queen re- 
 solved to remain, with Henry and the young prince, 
 at York, to await the issue of the battle impending. 
 But she could hardly dream of defeat as she inspect- 
 ed that numerous army, headed by knights and no- 
 bles arrayed in rich armor and mounted on pranc- 
 ing steeds, who had gathered to her standard in the
 
 THE LANCASTRIAN WARRIORS. 129 
 
 capital of the north. Somerset, Northumberland, 
 and Clifford, appeared in feudal pride, determined 
 at length to avenge the slaughter of their sires at St. 
 Albans ; and the Duke of Exeter, with John, Lord 
 Neville, brother to the Earl of Westmoreland, and 
 Thomas Courtenay, Earl of Devon, without the death 
 of sires to avenge, came to fight for the Red Rose ; 
 the first against his brother-in-law, King Edward, 
 the second against his kinsmen, the Lords Warwick 
 and Falconbridge, and the third against the house 
 of York, of which his father had been one of the 
 earliest adherents. Many other stanch Lancastri- 
 ans, bearing names celebrated in history and song, 
 had assembled ; as Leo, Lord Welles, James Butler, 
 Earl of Wiltshire, Ralph, Lord Dacre of the north, 
 and Thomas, Lord De Roos, heir of that great An- 
 glo-Norman baron of the twelfth century, whose 
 effigy is still to be seen in the Temple Church. 
 Among the Percies, Beauforts, and Cliffords figured 
 Sir John Heron, of the Ford, a stalwart Borderer, 
 who, in his day, had laid lance in rest against the 
 Homes and Cranstouns ; and Andrew Trollope, that 
 mighty man of war, whose betrayal of the Yorkists 
 at Ludlow had, for a year, delayed the exile of Mar- 
 garet of Anjou. Even a venerable lawyer and a 
 subtle churchman might have been seen in the Lan- 
 castrian ranks ; for Sir John Fortescue had left the 
 Court of King's Bench to fight for the cause which 
 I
 
 130 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 he believed to be that of truth and justice ; and 
 John Morton had deserted the parsonage of Blokes- 
 worth to Avin preferment, if possible, by the arm of 
 flesh. Such were the chiefs, devoted heart and hand 
 to the house of Lancaster, who, at the head of the 
 northern men, awaited the coming of the Yorkist 
 king and the king-maker.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TOWTON FIELD. 
 
 WITH Margaret of Anjou heading a mighty army 
 at York, and Edward Plantagenet heading an army, 
 not assuredly so numerous, but perhaps not less 
 mighty, at Pontefract, a conflict could not long be 
 delayed. Nor, indeed, had the partisans of either 
 Rose any reason to shrink from an encounter. For, 
 while the Yorkist chiefs felt that nothing less than a 
 crowning triumph could save them from the ven- 
 geance of the dethroned queen, the Lancastrian 
 lords were not less fully aware that nothing but a 
 decisive victory could insure to them their posses- 
 sions and restore to Henry his throne. 
 
 Learning that Edward was at Pontefract, and 
 anxious to prevent him passing the Aire, Margaret's 
 magnificent army moved from York. Formidable, 
 indeed, the Lancastrians must have looked as they 
 left the capital of the North, and marched south- 
 ward ; Somerset figuring as commander-in-chief ; 
 while Northumberland, aided by Andrew Trollope, 
 the great soldier of the Red Rose ranks, led the van ; 
 and Clifford, with the hands that had been dyed in 
 Rutland's blood, reined in his prancing steed at the
 
 132 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 head of the light cavalry. Crossing the Wharfe, and 
 marching through Tadcaster, the queen's captains 
 posted their men to the south of Towton, a little 
 village some eight miles from York. In front of 
 their main body was a valley known as Towton 
 Dale ; their right wing was protected by a cliff, and 
 their left by a marsh, which has since disappeared. 
 
 Somerset had hoped to keep the Aire between 
 him and the Yorkist foe ; and the aspiring duke 
 was somewhat dismayed to hear that Lord Fitzwal- 
 ter had seized Ferrybridge, and posted his company 
 on the north side of the river. The Lancastrian 
 lords, however, were in no mood to be daunted ; and 
 Clifford, who was quite as courageous as cruel, read- 
 ily undertook to dislodge the Yorkist warriors from 
 the position they occupied. Accordingly, at the 
 head of his light cavalry, and accompanied by Lord 
 Neville, Clifford spurred across the country, reached 
 Ferrybridge by break of day, and, finding the guards 
 asleep and utterly unsuspicious of an attack, had 
 little difficulty in fulfilling his mission. Ere well 
 awake half of the men were slaughtered, and the 
 survivors were glad to escape to the south side of 
 the Aire. Hearing a noise, and supposing that 
 some quarrel had arisen among his soldiers, Fitz- 
 walter rose from his couch, seized a battle-axe, and 
 hastened to restore order. But before the Yorkist 
 lord could even ascertain the cause of the disturb-
 
 THE FRAY AT FERRYBRIDGE. 133 
 
 ance he was surrounded and slain, and, with him, 
 Warwick's illegitimate brother, known as "The 
 Bastard of Salisbury," and described as " a valiant 
 young gentleman, and of great audacity." 
 
 Early on Saturday news of Clifford's exploit 
 reached Pontefract and caused something like a 
 panic in the Yorkist camp. Awed by the terrible 
 name of Clifford, and not unaware of the numerical 
 superiority of their foes, the soldiers lost heart and 
 showed a disposition to waver. At this crisis, how- 
 ever, it became known that Warwick had mounted 
 his horse, and every eye was turned toward the 
 king-maker as he spurred through the lines straight 
 to King Edward. 
 
 "Sir," said the earl, dismounting, "may GOD 
 have mercy upon their souls, who, for love of you, 
 have lost their lives. I see no hope of succor but 
 in Him, to whom I remit the vengeance." 
 
 Edward, perhaps, thought Warwick was mani- 
 festing more alarm than was either necessary or 
 prudent. " All who were afraid to fight might, at 
 their pleasure, depart," the king said, " but to those 
 that would stay he promised good reward ; and," 
 he added, " if any after staying should turn or flee, 
 then that he who killed such a dastard should have 
 double pay." 
 
 " Though your whole army should take to flight," 
 said Warwick to Edward, " I will remain to fight ;"
 
 134 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 and, having thus expressed his resolution to stand by 
 the young king to the death, the earl, in a manner 
 not to be mistaken, intimated to the army of the 
 White Kose that he, for one, rather than retreat 
 one inch, was prepared to die with his feet to the 
 foe. Drawing his sword, the patrician hero kissed 
 the hilt, which was in the form of a cross, and, kill- 
 ing his war-horse in view of the soldiers, he ex- 
 claimed, " Let him flee that will flee, I will tarry 
 with him that will tarry with me." 
 
 The effect of this sacrifice was marvelous ; the 
 soldiers saw that their chief and idol relied solely 
 on their courage, that with them he would fight on 
 foot, arid that with them he would share victory or 
 defeat. A feeling of enthusiasm pervaded the army, 
 and not one man was craven enough to desert the 
 great warrior-statesman in that hour of peril. 
 
 The Duke of Norfolk, as heir of Thomas de 
 Brotherton, held the office of earl marshal, and 
 was therefore entitled to lead the van of England's 
 army. It happened, however, that Norfolk had not 
 yet made his appearance among the Yorkist war- 
 riors, and, in his absence, Warwick's uncle, Lord Fal- 
 conbridge, took the post of distinction and danger. 
 With a view of cutting off Clifford's cavalry from 
 the main body of the Lancastrians, Falconbridge, at 
 the head of the Yorkist van, passed the Aire at Cas- 
 tleford, three miles above Ferrybridge, and, favored
 
 SKIRMISH AT DINTINGDALE. 135 
 
 by the windings of the river, led his men along the 
 north bank ere Clifford was aware of the enemy 
 being in motion. On being informed of the fact, 
 however, the Lancastrian leader mustered his horse- 
 men and made a dash northward to reach the queen's 
 camp. Fortune, however, was this time against the 
 savage lord. At Dintingdale, somewhat less than 
 two miles from Towton, the murderer of Rutland 
 and the executioner of Salisbury found that the 
 avengers were upon him, and turned desperately 
 to bay. A sharp and sanguinary skirmish ensued. 
 Clifford offered a brave resistance to his fate, but, 
 pierced in the throat with an arrow, he fell, never 
 more to rise. Lord Neville having shared Clifford's 
 fate, most of the light horsemen fell where they 
 fought, and Ferrybridge was retaken. 
 
 On receiving intelligence of the victory at Dint- 
 ingdale and the recovery of Ferrybridge, Edward 
 hastened to pass the Aire, leading the centre of the 
 Yorkist army, while the right wing was headed by 
 Warwick, and the rear brought up by Sir John 
 Denham, a veteran warrior who had ever adhered 
 to the Yorkist cause, and Sir John Wenlock, who 
 had once already changed sides to his profit, and 
 was to do so again to his loss. As the day was 
 drawing to a close the Yorkists reached Saxton, a 
 village little more than a mile south from Towton, 
 and, on their coming in sight of the Lancastrian
 
 136 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 host, the northern and southern armies expressed 
 the intense hatred they felt for each other by a long 
 yell of defiance. At the same time Edward caused 
 proclamation to be made, in the hearing of both, 
 that, on his side, no prisoners should be taken and 
 no quarter given ; and Somerset immediately order- 
 ed a similar proclamation to be made in the name 
 of the Lancastrian chiefs. 
 
 All that cold March night the hostile armies pre- 
 pared for the combat, and on the morning of the 29th 
 of March it was that of Palm Sunday Yorkist 
 and Lancastrian sprang to arms. As the warriors 
 of the Roses approached each other snow began to 
 fall heavily, and, from having the wind in their faces, 
 the Lancastrians were much inconvenienced by the 
 flakes being blown in their eyes. Falconbridge, 
 prompt to avail himself of such a circumstance, 
 caused the archers in the Yorkist van to advance, 
 send a flight of arrows among their antagonists, and 
 then draw back to await the result. Galled by this 
 discharge, the Lancastrians, who formed the van of 
 the queen's army, bent their bows in retaliation ; 
 but, blinded by snow, they shot at random, and the 
 shafts fell forty yards short of their adversaries. 
 
 Northumberland, the grandson of Hotspur, and 
 Andrew Trollope, that " terrible man-at-arms," did 
 not relish this inauspicious opening of the battle. 
 Perceiving that at a distance they were fighting at
 
 MORNING OF PALM SUNDAY. 137 
 
 disadvantage, Trollope and the earl ordered the men 
 to draw their blades, to rush forward, and to close 
 with the foe. An unexpected obstacle, however, 
 presented itself to the assailants ; for the northern 
 men, finding their feet entangled in their own shafts 
 that stuck in the ground, came to a halt ; and the 
 Yorkists, galling their adversaries with another 
 shower of arrows, threw them into confusion, and 
 drove them precipitately back on the main body of 
 the Lancastrians. 
 
 The White Rose was so far fortunate ; but the 
 Lancastrians, conscious of superior numbers, and 
 elate with their victories at Wakefield and Bernard's 
 Heath, were not to be daunted. Ere Northumber- 
 land fell back on the queen's forces, the two armies 
 were face to face, and on neither side was there any 
 wish to delay meeting hand to hand. Impatient to 
 try conclusions, and disdaining to balk his enemies 
 of the close conflict they desired, Falconbridge gave 
 the word for his soldiers to lay aside their bows, take 
 to their swords, and advance to the encounter ; and, 
 with shouts of anger and scorn, the men of the north 
 and of the south approached each other to decide 
 their quarrel with foot opposed to foot, and steel to 
 steel. 
 
 The clarions having sounded a charge, the battle 
 now began in earnest, and with such fury as had 
 never before been displayed by Englishmen when
 
 /38 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 opposed to each other. The leaders trusted less to 
 their own generalship than to the courage of their 
 men ; and the soldiers on both sides, animated with 
 the deadliest hatred of their foes, moved forward in 
 masses. Every man fought as if the quarrel had 
 been his own ; and among the fiercest and foremost, 
 where skulls were cleaved and blood shed, appeared, 
 on one side, Andrew Trollope, performing prodigies 
 of valor, and, on the other, the young king, fiery with 
 martial ardor, and freely hazarding his life to ad- 
 vance his fortunes. Mounted on barbed steed, and 
 arrayed in emblazoned surcoat, and his standard, on 
 which was a black bull, borne by Ralph Vestynden, 
 Edward seemed the very prince to kindle enthusi- 
 asm in the heart of a multitude ; and woe betided 
 those who crossed his path, as, in this, his twentieth 
 year, he fought with the savage valor which after- 
 ward bore down all opposition on the fields of Bar- 
 net and Tewkesbury. The king's courage and prow- 
 ess made him conspicuous in the fight, and his in- 
 domitable determination contributed in no slight de- 
 gree to maintain the resolution of the Yorkists to 
 conquer or to die for his sake. 
 
 But, notwithstanding Edward's achievements, and 
 the confidence with which the soldiers fought under 
 Warwick's leadership, hours passed, and thousands 
 upon thousands fell, without the prospect of a York- 
 ist victory. Still the northern war-cries rose upon
 
 THE BATTLE. 139 
 
 the gale ; still Andrew Trollope hounded the north- 
 ern men upon their foes ; and still terrible proved 
 the sweep of those long lances with which, at Wake- 
 field, Herons and Tunstalls and Whartons had scat- 
 tered the chivalry of York as the wind scatters 
 leaves. No easy victory could, by any warriors, be 
 won against such foes ; and in spite of all the young 
 king's courage, and " The Stout Earl's" sagacity, it 
 appeared too likely that Trollope, with fortune as 
 well as numbers on his side, would conquer, and 
 that the bloodiest day England had ever seen would 
 close in a Lancastrian triumph. 
 
 Meanwhile the aspect of the field was too terrible 
 even to be described without a shudder. All on the 
 ridge between Towton and Saxton were heaps of 
 dead, and wounded, and dying ; and the blood of 
 the slain lay caked with the snow that covered the 
 ground, and afterward, dissolving with it, ran down 
 the furrows and ditches for miles together. Never, 
 indeed, in England, had such a scene of carnage been 
 witnessed as that upon which the villagers of Tow- 
 ton and Saxton looked out from their lowly cot- 
 tages, and of which the citizens of York heard fly- 
 ing rumors, as, in common with Christendom, they 
 celebrated the festival commemorative of our Re- 
 deemer's entry into Jerusalem. 
 
 At length, when the battle had lasted well-nigh 
 ten hours, and thousands had fallen in the sanguin-
 
 140 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ary conflict, fortune so far favored the Red Rose 
 that it seemed as if those long Border spears so sel- 
 dom couched in vain, were destined to win back the 
 crown of St. Edward for Henry of Windsor. The 
 Yorkists were, in fact, giving way ; and Warwick 
 must have felt that his charger had been sacrificed 
 in vain, and that his head was not unlikely to oc- 
 cupy a place between those of York and Salisbury 
 over the gates of the northern capital, when, through 
 the snow which darkened the air and drifted over the 
 country, another army was seen advancing from the 
 south ; and into the field, fresh and in no humor to 
 avoid the combat, came the fighting men of Norfolk, 
 under the banner of the princely Mowbrays, to the 
 aid of Edward's wavering ranks. This new arrival 
 of feudal warriors speedily turned the scale in favor 
 of York ; and while Edward animated his adherents, 
 and Warwick urged the Yorkists to renewed exer- 
 tion, the Lancastrians, after an attempt to resist their 
 fate, at first slowly and frowning defiance on their 
 foes, but gradually with more rapid steps, commenced 
 a retreat northward. 
 
 Among the thousands who, on that stormy Palm 
 Sunday, took the field with Red Roses on their gor- 
 gets, there was no better or braver knight than 
 Ralph, Lord Dacre. From his castle of Naworth, 
 in Cumberland, Dacre had brought his riders, ar- 
 rayed under the ancestral banner
 
 ROUT OF THE LANCASTRIANS. 141 
 
 "That swept the shores of Judah's sea, 
 And waved in gales of Galilee" 
 
 and mounted to strike for King Henry ; not, per- 
 haps, without some presentiment of filling a war- 
 rior's grave. But death by a mean hand the lordly 
 warrior would not contemplate ; and with a spirit 
 as high as his progenitor, who fought at Acre with 
 Richard C&ur de Lion, he could* hardly dream of 
 falling by a weapon less renowned than Warwick's 
 axe, or Edward's lance, or the sword of William 
 Hastings, who, in the young king's track, slaughter- 
 ing as he rode, was winning golden spurs and broad 
 baronies. No death so distinguished, however, await- 
 ed Lord Dacre of the North. While in a large field, 
 known as the North Acre, and still in rustic tradi- 
 tion and rhyme associated with his name, the haugh- 
 ty Borderer, probably making a last effort to rally 
 the beaten and retreating Lancastrians, was mor- 
 tally wounded with an arrow shot by a boy out of 
 an auberry-tree, and prostrated among dead and dy- 
 ing on the miry ground. 
 
 "All is lost," groaned Exeter and Somerset, in 
 bitter mood, as together they spurred over mounds 
 of slain, and galloped toward York, to warn the 
 queen that her foes were conquerors. And well, 
 indeed, might the Lancastrian dukes express them- 
 selves in accents of despair, for never before had an 
 English army been in a more hapless plight than
 
 112 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 that which they were now leaving to its fate. At 
 first, the retreat of the Lancastrians was conducted 
 with some degree of order; but, ere long, their 
 ranks were broken by the pursuing foe, and every 
 thing was confusion as they fled in a mass toward 
 Tadcaster. No leader of mark remained to direct 
 or control the ill-fated army in the hour of disaster. 
 John Heron, and Leo, Lord Welles, were slain. 
 Andrew Trollope, after having " done marvelous 
 deeds of valor," lay cold on the ground ; Northum- 
 berland stooped his lofty crest as low as death ; 
 Devon and Wiltshire were heading the flight, and 
 in vain endeavoring to place themselves beyond the 
 vengeance of the victors. Resistance was hopeless; 
 quarter was neither asked nor given ; the carnage 
 was so frightful that the road to York was literal- 
 ly red with the blood and strewn with the bodies 
 of the slain ; and the pursuit was .so hot and 
 eager that multitudes were drowned in attempt- 
 ing to cross the rivulet of Cock, while the corpses 
 formed a bridge over which the pursuers passed. 
 The brook ran purple with blood, and crimsoned, 
 as it formed a junction with, the waters of the 
 Wharfe. 
 
 Evening closed, at length, over the field of Tow- 
 ton, but without putting an end to the work of de- 
 struction. Till the noon of Monday the pursuit was 
 keenly urged, and a running fight, kept up beyond
 
 EDWARD A CONQUEROR. 143 
 
 the Tyne, caused much bloodshed.* The Chief 
 Justice of England and the Parson of Blokesworth 
 escaped. But Devon and Wiltshire were less for- 
 tunate. One was taken near York, the other seized 
 near Cockermouth by an esquire named Richard 
 Salkeld ; and both were executed by martial law. 
 
 After his signal victory on Towton Field, Edward 
 knighted Hastings, Humphrey Stafford, and others, 
 and then rode in triumph to York. Henry, with 
 Queen Margaret and the prince, having fled from 
 the city, the inhabitants received him with humble 
 submission ; and, having taken down the heads of 
 his kinsmen from the gates, and set up those of 
 Devon and Wiltshire instead, Edward remained at 
 York, and kept the festival of Easter with great 
 splendor. After visiting Durham, and settling the 
 affairs of the north, the young king turned his face 
 toward London. 
 
 From the day on which Edward rode out of 
 Bishopgate until Easter, the citizens had been in 
 fearful suspense. At length a messenger reached 
 Baynard's Castle to inform the Duchess of York 
 that the Lancastrians had been routed ; and, when 
 the news spread, the metropolis was the scene of 
 
 * "The chase, " says Hall, "continued all night, and tho 
 most part of the next clay ; and ever the northern men, when 
 they saw or perceived any advantage, returned again and 
 fought with their enemies, to the great loss of both parties."
 
 144 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 joy and rejoicing. Men of all ranks breathed free- 
 ly, and thanked GOD for giving King Edward the 
 victory ; and minstrels, in grateful strains, sang the 
 praise of the royal warrior who had saved the fair 
 southern shires from the fierce and rude spearmen 
 of the north.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE QUEEN'S STRUGGLES WITH ADVERSITY. 
 
 ON Palm Sunday, when, on Towton Field, the 
 armies of York and Lancaster were celebrating the 
 festival with lances instead of palms, Margaret of 
 Anjou, with the king, the Prince of Wales, and 
 Lord De Koos, remained at York to await the issue 
 of the conflict. The Lancastrians, when they rode 
 forth, appeared so confident of victory that, in all 
 probability, the queen was far from entertaining 
 serious apprehensions. As the day wore on, how- 
 ever, Somerset and Exeter spurred into the city, 
 announced that all was lost, and recommended a 
 speedy flight. 
 
 Margaret was not the woman to faint in the day 
 of adversity. The news brought by her discomfited 
 partisans was indeed hard to hear, but their advice 
 was too reasonable to be rejected. Dauntless in 
 defeat, as merciless in victory, that resolute princess 
 could, even at such a moment, dream of fresh 
 chances, and calculate the advantages to be derived 
 from placing herself beyond the reach of her ene- 
 mies. Besides, it was necessary to do something, 
 and that quickly. The day, indeed, was cold and 
 K
 
 14C THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 stormy ; but what were snow and sleet in compar- 
 ison with the Yorkist foe, headed by a chief who 
 had proved at Mortimer's Cross that he could ex-, 
 ercise a degree of cruelty almost as unsparing as 
 that of which, at Wakefield, she had been guilty? 
 The queen, therefore, determined on carrying her 
 husband and her son to Scotland ; and the whole 
 party, mounting in haste, rode northward with all 
 the speed of which their horses were capable. 
 
 The way was long and the weather was cold ; but 
 the fear of pursuit overbore all such consideration*, 
 and the royal fugitives were fortunate enough to 
 reach Newcastle without being overtaken by the 
 light horsemen whom Edward had sent out in pur- 
 suit. From the banks of the Tyne the queen pro- 
 ceeded to Berwick, and thence found her way to 
 Kirkcudbright. In that ancient town of Galloway, 
 near which, on an island in Lockfergus, stood the 
 palace of the old kings of the province, Margaret 
 left her husband to tell his beads, while she under- 
 took a journey to Edinburgh, that she might con- 
 cert measures for another effort to retrieve her dis- 
 asters. 
 
 At the Scottish court the unfortunate queen was 
 received with distinction, and warm sympathy was 
 expressed for her mishaps. But the Scots, though 
 dealing in fair words, were in no mood to assist Mar- 
 garet without a consideration ; and, to tempt them,
 
 SOMERSET'S MISSION TO FRANCE. 147 
 
 she agreed to surrender the town of Berwick, the 
 capital of the East Marches and the last remnant 
 of the great Edwards' conquests in Scotland. 
 
 Berwick having thus been placed in their posses- 
 sion, the Scots commenced operations in favor of 
 the Red Rose. One army attacked Carlisle, anoth- 
 er made an incursion into the Bishopric of Durham. 
 Both expeditions resulted in failure. Early in June, 
 Warwick's brother, John Neville, Lord Montagu, de- 
 feated the Scots under the walls of Carlisle ; and, 
 ere the close of that month, the Lancastrians, under 
 Lord De Roos, were routed at Ryton and Brance- 
 path, in Durham. 
 
 Margaret, however, was in no humor to submit 
 to fortune. Finding the Scottish court unable to 
 render any effectual assistance, the exiled queen dis- 
 patched Somerset to implore aid from France. An 
 appeal to the French monarch could hardly, she 
 thought, fail of producing the desired effect ; for he 
 was her relative ; he had negotiated her marriage 
 with Henry ; and he entertained so high an opinion 
 of his fair kinswoman, that, at parting, he had re- 
 marked, almost with tears in his eyes, " I feel as 
 though I had done nothing for my niece in placing 
 her on one of the greatest of European thrones, for 
 it is scarcely worthy of posssessing her." 
 
 Misfortunes are said never to come singly ; and 
 Margaret had, ere long, reason to believe such to be
 
 148 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the case. Having lost her throne, she lost the only 
 friend who, for her own sake, would have made any 
 exertions to restore her. Ere Somerset reached the 
 court of Paris, King Charles had expired at the age 
 of threescore ; and his son, known in history and 
 romance as Louis the Crafty, had succeeded to the 
 French crown. 
 
 Louis had no ambition to incur the enmity of 
 Edward of York. He even evinced his disregard 
 for his kinswoman's claims by causing Somerset and 
 other Lancastrians to be arrested while they were 
 traveling in the disguise of merchants. The duke 
 was, ere long, set free, and admitted to the king's 
 presence ; but he could not prevail on Louis to run 
 any risk for the house of Lancaster ; and, after lurk- 
 ing for a time at Bruges, to elude Edward's spies, 
 he was fain to return to Scotland. 
 
 This was not the worst. The mission of Somer- 
 set proved doubly unfortunate. Not only had he 
 failed in his object with the King of France, but he 
 had given mortal offense to the Queen of Scots. 
 The duke, it would seem, had, during his residence 
 in Scotland, been attracted by the charms of Mary 
 of Gueldres, and the widowed queen had showed for 
 him a much too favorable regard. In an hour of 
 indiscreet frankness Somerset revealed their familiar- 
 ity to the King of France ; and, the secret becom- 
 ing known at Paris, reached the Scottish court. The
 
 MARGARET IN FRANCE. 149 
 
 royal widow, on learning that her weakness was 
 publicly talked of, felt the liveliest indignation ; 
 and forthwith employed Hepburn of Hailes, a new 
 lover, to avenge her mortally on the chief of the 
 Beauforts. Moreover, she availed herself of the op- 
 portunity to break off friendly relations with the 
 Lancastrian exiles. 
 
 Matters had now, in fact, reached such a stage 
 that Mary of Gueldres could hardly have avoided a 
 quarrel with the Lancastrians. The young King of 
 England was far from indifferent to the advantage 
 of a close alliance with the Scots ; and Warwick 
 commenced negotiations by proposing, on behalf of 
 Edward, a marriage with their queen. Crossing 
 the Border in the spring of 14G2, the king-maker ar- 
 rived at Dumfries to arrange a matrimonial treaty. 
 
 Margaret of Anjou must now have been some- 
 what perplexed. Even if she had not received 
 warning to quit the countiy, the presence of " The 
 Stout Earl" at Dumfries was a hint not to be mis- 
 taken. Feeling that it was time to be gone, the 
 Lancastrian queen obtained a convoy of four Scot- 
 tish ships, and, embarking with her son, sailed for 
 the Continent. Landing on the coast of Brittany, 
 Margaret visited the duke of that province ; and he, 
 compassionating her misfortunes, advanced her a 
 sum of money. After passing some time with King 
 Rene, who was then at Anjou, she proceeded with
 
 150 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the Prince of AVales to the French court, and im- 
 plored Louis to aid in restoring Henry of Windsor 
 to his father's throne. 
 
 The French monarch had as little inclination as 
 before to rush into war with a powerful nation 
 merely to redress the wrongs of a distressed prii 
 But Louis hud u keen eye to his own interests, and 
 no objection to meet Margaret's wishes, if, while do- 
 ing so, he could advance his projects. He, therefore, 
 went cunningly to work, declaring at iirst that his 
 own poverty was such as to preclude the possibility 
 of interference in the affairs of others, but gradually 
 making Margaret comprehend that he would furnish 
 her with money if Calais were assigned to him as 
 security. 
 
 After the battle of Cressy, Calais had been taken 
 from the French by the third Edward, and was a 
 conquest for a king to boast of. Such, at least, 
 continued the opinion of the commons of England. 
 Indeed, when sighing over the memory of Cressy, 
 Poictiers, and Agincourt, and reflecting on their 
 subsequent disasters, patriots never failed to con- 
 sole themselves with the thought that, so long as 
 Calais remained in their possession, they carried 
 the keys of France and of Flanders at their girdle. 
 Margaret did not, of course, sympathize with such 
 sentiments ; and, catching at the proposal of Louis, 
 she put Calais in pawn for twenty thousand livres.
 
 BREZE'S EXPEDITION. 151 
 
 Having received this sum, she raised an army of two 
 thousand men. 
 
 At that time there was languishing in prison a 
 French captain of great renown, named Peter de 
 Breze, who, in the reign of King Charles, had oc- 
 cupied a high position, and gi'eatly distinguished 
 himself at a tournament held in honor of Mar- 
 garet's bridal. Inspired on that occasion by the 
 Provencal princess with a chivalrous devotion which 
 was proof against time and change, he offered, if set 
 free, to conduct her little army to England ; and 
 Louis, hoping, it is said, that the brave captain 
 might perish in the enterprise, gave him his liberty. 
 
 Breze, embarking with the queen, set sail for 
 Northumberland. Fortune did not, in any respect, 
 favor the invaders. They, indeed, escaped the vigi- 
 lance of Edward's fleet, and attempted to land at 
 Tynemouth ; but, the weather proving unfavorable, 
 they were driven ashore near Bamburgh. The queen 
 had anticipated that the whole north would hail her 
 coming, but she was utterly disappointed ; for, in- 
 stead of friends rushing to her aid, there appeared 
 Sir Robert Manners of Etal, and the Bastard Ogle, 
 who, zealous for the White Rose, attacked her little 
 force with so much determination that the French- 
 men were utterly routed. 
 
 Margaret was fain to turn toward Berwick ; but, 
 undismayed by reverses, she determined to perse-
 
 152 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 vere. Leaving her son in safety, and having been 
 joined by some English exiles and a body of Scots, 
 she seized the Castles of Bamburgh, Dunstanburgh, 
 and Alnwick. While in Almvick, the strong-hold 
 of the Percies, she Avas dismayed by intelligence of 
 Warwick's approach ; and, after taking counsel with 
 Breze, retired to her ships. As she put to sea, how- 
 ever, a storm arose, scattered her little fleet, and 
 wrecked the vessels bearing her money and stores 
 on the rocky coast of Northumberland. The queen 
 was in the utmost danger ; but, having been placed 
 on board a fishing-boat, she had the fortune, in spite 
 of wind and weather, to reach Berwick. 
 
 Warwick, meanwhile, approached with twenty 
 thousand men ; and Edward, following, took up his 
 quarters at Durham. The queen's French troops 
 fared badly. Five hundred of them, endeavoring 
 to maintain themselves on Holy Island, were cut to 
 pieces ; and the garrisons of the three northern cas- 
 tles were soon in a desperate condition. Indeed, 
 the plight of the Lancastrians appeared so utterly 
 hopeless, that Somerset submitted to Edward, and, 
 having been received into the king's favor, fought 
 against his old friends. 
 
 Becoming most anxious to save Breze, who, within 
 the Castle of Alnwick, was reduced to extremity, 
 Margaret applied to George Douglas, Earl of Angus, 
 to rescue the gallant Frenchman from the jeopardy
 
 MARGARET'S APPEAL TO THE MARCHMEN. 153 
 
 in which he was placed. " Madam," replied Angus, 
 who was father of the famous Bell-the-Cat, " I will 
 do my utmost ;" and, having crossed the Border with 
 a chosen band of spearmen, he broke through the 
 ranks of the besiegers and carried off the garrison 
 in safety. 
 
 The prospects of the Lancastrians were now dis- 
 mal. Margaret, however, did not despair. Her 
 courage was still too high her spirit too haughty 
 to give up the game, which she had hitherto 
 played with so little success. Being on the Scottish 
 marches, she cultivated the friendship of those chiefs 
 whose spearmen were the plague of lordly wardens 
 and the tei-ror of humble villagers. 
 
 In the halls of Border lords, who, with hands 
 strong to smite, had, under their coats of mail, 
 hearts far from insensible to the tears of a beauti- 
 ful woman and the supplications of a distressed 
 princess, Margaret told the story of her wrongs. 
 With ;i voice now stining as the sound of a trum- 
 pet, now melancholy as the wind sighing among 
 sepulchral yews, she reminded them what she had 
 been, when, eighteen years earlier, England's nobles 
 paid homage to her at Westminster, as she sat on 
 the throne, wearing the crown of gold and the man- 
 tle of purple ; how, when a fugitive, pursued by en- 
 emies thirsting for her blood, she had endured want 
 and hunger ; and how, when an exile, depending for
 
 154 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 bread on the charity of rivals, she had been humbled 
 to beg from a Scottish archer the mite which she 
 placed on the shrine of a saint. Her poetic elo- 
 quence, potent to move the heart, drew tears from 
 ladies, and caused men to lay their hands upon their 
 swords, and swear, by GOD and St. George, that such 
 things must no longer be. Ever, when Margaret was 
 in disti'ess, and laid aside her imperious tone and 
 haughty manner, she became too persuasive and 
 insinuating to be resisted. It was impossible for 
 listeners to resist the conclusion that of all injured 
 ladies she had suffered most, and that they would 
 be unworthy longer to wear the crest and plume of 
 knights who did not use every effort to restore her 
 to that throne which they believed her so well quali- 
 fied to grace. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that when the winter of 
 1463 had passed, and the spring of 14G4 again 
 painted the earth, the Red Rose-tree began to blos- 
 som anew. Margaret found herself at the head of 
 a formidable army ; and Somerset, hearing of her 
 success, deserted Edward's court, rode post-haste to 
 the north, and took part in the Lancastrian insur- 
 rection. All over England there was a spirit of 
 discontent with the new government ; and Edward, 
 while watching the movements of the malcontents, 
 got so enthralled by female charms that, instead of 
 taking the field against the Lancastrian warriors, he
 
 A CAMPAIGN IN NORTHUMBERLAND. 155 
 
 was exerting all his skill to achieve a triumph over 
 a Lancastrian widow. However, he called upon his 
 subjects to arm in his defense, and ordered a numer- 
 ous force to march to the aid of Lord Montagu, who 
 commanded in the north. 
 
 Margaret was all fire and energy. Carrying in 
 her train her meek husband and hopeful son, she, in 
 April, once more raised the Lancastrian banner, and 
 marched southward. Somerset and his brother, Ed- 
 mund Beaufort, were already at her side ; and thither, 
 also, went Exeter, De Roos, Hungerford, with Sir 
 Ralph Percy, who had for a while submitted to Ed- 
 ward, and Sir Ralph Grey, who, having been a vi- 
 olent Yorkist, had lately, in revenge for not being 
 granted the Castle of Alnwick, become enthusiastic 
 for Lancaster. 
 
 Montagu, as Warden of the Marches, now found 
 his position too close to the enemy to be either safe 
 or pleasant. Undismayed, however, that feudal cap- 
 tain met the crisis with a courage worthy of his no- 
 ble name, and a vigilance worthy of his high office. 
 At Hedgley Moor, near Wooler, on the 25th of April, 
 he fell on a party of the Lancastrians, under Sir 
 Ralph Percy, and defeated them with slaughter. 
 Sir Ralph, a son of the great northern earl slain at 
 St. Albans, and a high-spirited warrior, fell fighting, 
 exclaiming, with his latest breath, " I have saved the 
 bird in my bosom."
 
 156 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 After having so auspiciously commenced his North- 
 umbrian campaign, Montagu paused ; but when Ed- 
 ward did not appear, the noble warden lost patience, 
 and determined to strike a decisive blow. Hearing 
 that the Lancastrians were encamped on Level's 
 Plain, on the south side of the Dowel Water, near 
 Hexham, he, on the 8th of May, bore down upon 
 their camp. Somerset, who commanded the Lan- 
 castrians, was taken by surprise, and, indeed, had at 
 no time the martial skill to contend with such a 
 captain as Montagu. The northern men, however, 
 met the unexpected attack with their usual intre- 
 pidity ; but their courage proved of no avail. For 
 a time, it appears that neither side could boast of 
 any advantage ; till Montagu, growing impatient, 
 urged his men to " do it valiantly ;" and, after a 
 desperate effort, the Yorkists entered the queen's 
 camp. A bloody conflict ensued ; the Lancastrians 
 were put to the rout ; poor Henry fled in terror and 
 amaze, and, mounted on a swift steed, contrived to 
 get out of the fray, leaving part of his equipage in 
 the hands of the victors. 
 
 A few days after Hexham, Edward arrived at 
 York, and, having been there met by Montagu, was 
 presented with the high cap of state called " Aba- 
 cot," which Henry of Windsor had left behind on 
 the day of battle. Out of gratitude, the king grant- 
 ed to his victorious warden the earldom of North-
 
 BATTLE OF HEXHAM. 157 
 
 umberland, which, having been forfeited by the Per- 
 cies, whose heir Avas then either a captive in the 
 Tower or an exile in Scotland, could hardly have 
 been more appropriately bestowed than on a lineal 
 descendant of Cospatrick and Earl Uchtred. 
 
 Edward, however, had to punish as well as re- 
 ward, and such of the Lancastrians as fell into the 
 hands of the victors were treated with extreme se- 
 verity. Somerset, who knew not where to turn, 
 who had no reason to expect mercy in England, and 
 no reason to expect protection in Scotland since 
 his revelations as to Mary of Gueldres had led War- 
 Avick to break off matrimonial negotiations on behalf 
 of Edward Avas discovered lurking in a wood, car- 
 ried to Hexham, tried by martial laAv, and beheaded. 
 The ill-starred duke died unmarried, but not with- 
 out issue ; and his descendants, in the illegitimate 
 line, were destined to occupy a high place among the 
 modern aristocracy of England. It happened that 
 a fair being, named Joan Hill, without being a Avife, 
 became a mother. Of her son, Somerset was under- 
 stood to be the father. After the duke's execution, 
 the boy went by the name of Charles Somerset ; and, 
 as years passed over, he won the favor of the Tudors. 
 By Henry the Eighth he was created Earl of Wor- 
 cester; and by Charles the Second the Earls of 
 Worcester were elevated in the peerage to the duke- 
 dom of Beaufort.
 
 158 THE WARS OK THE ROSES. 
 
 About the time when Somerset perished on the 
 scaffold, the Red Rose lost a chief, scarcely less con- 
 spicuous, by the death of Lord de Koos. His widow 
 found a home with her eldest daughter, the wife of 
 Sir Robert Manners, of Etal ; his son Edmund es- 
 caped to the Continent ; and his Castle of Belvoir, 
 inherited through an ancestress from William de Al- 
 bini, was granted by King Edward to William Has- 
 tings, who, since Towton, had become a baron of the 
 realm, and husband of Warwick's sister, Katherine 
 Neville, the widow of Lord Bonville, slain at Wake- 
 field. Hastings hurried to Leicestershire, to take 
 possession of Belvoir ; but the county, faithful to the 
 banished De Roos, turned out under an esquire 
 named Harrington and compelled the Yorkist lord 
 to fly. Perceiving that to hold the castle under such 
 circumstances would be no easy task, Hastings re- 
 turned with a large force, spoiled the building, and 
 carried off the leads to the stately pile he was rear- 
 ing at Ashby de la Zouch. 
 
 The Lord Hungerford, with Sir Humphrey Nev- 
 ille, and William Tailbois, whom the Lancastrians 
 called Earl of Kent, died, like Somerset, on the scaf- 
 fold. But a punishment much more severe was add- 
 ed in the case of Sir Ralph Grey. This unfortu- 
 nate renegade, when found in the Castle of Bam- 
 burgh, was condemned, ere being executed, to degra- 
 dation from the rank of knighthood. Every thing
 
 AFTER HEXHAM. 150 
 
 was prepared for the ceremony ; and the master 
 cook, with his apron and knife, stood ready to strike 
 off the gilded spurs close by the heels. But from 
 respect to the memory of the knight's grandfather, 
 who had suffered much for the king's ancestors, this 
 part of the punishment was remitted. 
 
 The hopes of the Lancastrians could hardly have 
 survived so signal a disaster as their defeat at Hex- 
 ham, if one circumstance had not rendered the vic- 
 tory of Montagu incomplete. Margaret of Anjou 
 had, as if by miracle, escaped ; and, while she was 
 in possession of life and liberty, friends and adver- 
 saries were alike conscious that no battle, however 
 bravely fought or decisively won, could secure the 
 crown or assure the succession to the house of York.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE WOODVILLES. 
 
 ABOUT the opening of 1464, Edward, King of 
 England, then in his twenty-fourth year, was divert- 
 ing himself with the pleasures of the chase in the 
 forest of Whittlebury. 
 
 One day, when hunting in the neighborhood of 
 Grafton, the king rode to that manor-house and 
 alighted to pay his respects to Jacqueline, Duchess 
 of Bedford. The visit was, perhaps, not altogether 
 prompted by courtesy. He was then watching, with 
 great suspicion, the movements of the Lancastrians, 
 and he probably hoped to elicit from the duchess, 
 who was a friend of Margaret of Anjou, some in- 
 telligence as to the intentions of the faction to which 
 she belonged forgetting, by-the-by, that the duchess 
 was a woman of great experience, and had long 
 since, under trying circumstances, learned how to 
 make words conceal her thoughts. 
 
 Jacqueline of Luxembourg, a daughter of the 
 Count of St. Pol, Avhen young, lively, and beautiful, 
 found herself given in marriage to John, Duke of 
 Bedford. John was a famous man, doubtless, but 
 very considerably the senior of his bride ; and when
 
 THE DUCHESS OF BEDFORD. 161 
 
 he died at Rouen, Jacqueline probably considered 
 that, in any second matrimonial alliance, she ought 
 to take the liberty of consulting her own taste. In 
 any case, one of the duke's esquires, Richard Wood- 
 ville by name, was appointed to escort her to En- 
 gland ; and he, being among the handsomest men in 
 Europe, made such an impression on the heart of 
 the youthful widow, that a marriage was the result. 
 For seven long years their union was kept secret; 
 but at length circumstances rendered concealment 
 impossible, and the marriage became a matter of 
 public notoriety. 
 
 The discovery that the widow of the foremost 
 prince and soldier of Europe had given her hand to 
 a man who could not boast of a patrician ancestor 
 or a patriotic achievement caused much astonish- 
 ment, and such was the indignation of Jacqueline's 
 own kinsmen that Woodville never again ventured 
 to show his face on the Continent. To the esquire 
 and the duchess, however, the consequences, though 
 inconvenient, were not ruinous. A fine of a thou- 
 sand pounds was demanded from Woodville ; and, 
 having paid that sum, he was put in possession of 
 Jacqueline's castles. 
 
 As time passed on, the Duchess of Bedford, as " a 
 
 foreign lady of quality," insinuated herself into the 
 
 good graces of Margaret of Anjou ; and Woodville 
 
 was, through the interest of his wife, created a baron. 
 
 L
 
 162 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 About the same period their eldest daughter, Eliza- 
 beth, became a maid of honor to the queen, and, 
 subsequently, wife of John Grey of Groby, a zealous 
 Lancastrian, who died after the second battle of St. 
 Albans. Finding herself a widow, and the times 
 being troublous, Elizabeth placed herself under the 
 protection of her mother at Grafton. There she 
 was residing when the Yorkist king appeared to pay 
 his respects to the duchess. 
 
 Elizabeth probably regarded Edward's visit as 
 providential. She had two sons ; and, as the parti- 
 sans of York were by no means in a humor to prac- 
 tice excessive leniency to the vanquished, the heirs 
 of Grey were in danger of losing lands and living 
 for their father's adherence to the Red Rose. Be- 
 lieving that she had now a capital opportunity of 
 obtaining the removal of the attainder, she resolved 
 to throw herself at the king's feet and implore his 
 clemency. 
 
 An oak-tree between Grafton and Whittlebury 
 Forest has since been indicated by tradition as the 
 scene of Elizabeth "Woodville's first interview with 
 Edward of York. Standing under the branches, 
 holding her sons by the hand, and casting down her 
 eyes with an affectation of extreme modesty, the 
 artful widow succeeded in arresting his attention. 
 Indeed, there was little chance of Edward of York 
 passing such a being without notice. Elizabeth was
 
 THE KING'S MARRIAGE. 163 
 
 on the shady side of thirty, to be sure ; but time had 
 not destroyed the charms that, fifteen years earlier, 
 had brought suitors around the portionless maid of 
 honor. Her features were remarkable for regular- 
 ity ; her complexion was fair and delicate, and her 
 hair of that pale golden hue then deemed indispen- 
 sable in a beauty of rank. 
 
 Edward's eye was arrested, and, being in the fever 
 of youth, with a heart peculiarly susceptible, he was 
 captivated by the fair suppliant. Too young and 
 confident to believe in the possibility of his addresses 
 being rejected, the king made love, though not in 
 such terms as please the ear of a virtuous woman. 
 Elizabeth, however, conducted herself with rare dis- 
 cretion, and made her royal lover understand that 
 monarchs sometimes sigh in vain. At length the 
 duchess took the matter in hand; and, under the 
 influence of a tactician so expert, the enamored 
 king set prudential considerations at defiance, and 
 offered to take the young widow for better or for 
 worse. A secret marriage was then projected; Jac- 
 queline applied her energies to the business ; and, 
 with her experience of matrimonial affairs, the 
 duchess found no difficulty in arranging every thing 
 to satisfaction. 
 
 The ceremony was fixed for the 1st of May, and, 
 since privacy was the object, the day was well chosen. 
 Indeed, May-day was the festival which people re-
 
 164 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 garded as next in importance to Christmas ; and 
 they were too much taken vip with its celebration to 
 pry into the secrets of others. It was while milk- 
 maids, with pyramids of silver plate on their heads, 
 were dancing from door to door, and every body was 
 preparing to dance round the maypole, that Edward 
 secretly met his bride at the chapel of Grafton, and 
 solemnized that marriage which was destined to 
 bring such evils on the country. As the duchess 
 probably suspected that it was not the first time the 
 king had figured as a bridegroom, she was careful, 
 in the event of any dispute arising, to provide her- 
 self with other witnesses than the priest and the 
 mass-boy. With this view she brought two of her 
 waiting-women ; and the king, having gone through 
 the ceremony, took his departure as secretly as he 
 came. Ere long, however, Edward intimated to the 
 father of the bride that he intended to spend some 
 time with him at Grafton ; and Woodville, who still 
 feigned ignorance of the marriage, took care that his 
 royal son-in-law should have nothing to complain of 
 in regard to the entertainment. 
 
 Having thus wedded her daughter to the chief of 
 the White Rose, the Duchess of Bedford converted 
 her husband and sons from violent Lancastrians into 
 unscrupulous Yorkists, and then manifested a strong 
 desire to have the marriage acknowledged. This 
 was a most delicate piece of business, and, managed
 
 SIR JOHN HOWARD. 165 
 
 clumsily, might have cost the king his crown. It 
 happened, however, that while Edward, in the shades 
 of Grafton, had forgotten every thing that he ought 
 to have remembered, Montagu, by his victory at 
 Hexharn, had so firmly established Edward's power 
 that the king deemed himself in a position to inflict 
 signal chastisement on any one venturesome enough 
 to dispute his sovereign will. Nevertheless, it was 
 thought prudent to ascertain the feeling of the na- 
 tion before taking any positive step ; and agents 
 were employed for that purpose. 
 
 Warwick and Montagu were not, of course, the 
 men for this kind of work. The chief person en- 
 gaged in the inquiry, indeed, appears to have been 
 Sir John Howard, a knight of Norfolk, whose family 
 had, in the fourteenth century, been raised from ob- 
 scurity by a successful lawyer, and, in the fifteenth, 
 elevated somewhat higher by a marriage with the 
 Mowbrays, about the time when the chief of that 
 great house was under attainder and in exile. 
 Howard, inspired, perhaps, by his Mowbray blood, 
 cherished an ardent ambition to enroll his name 
 among the old nobility of England ; and, to get one 
 inch nearer the gratification of his vanity, he appears 
 to have undertaken any task, however undignified. 
 Even on this occasion he was not by any means too 
 nice for the duty to be performed ; and he was care- 
 ful to return an answer likely to please those who
 
 166 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 were most interested. Finding that the Woodvilles 
 were rising in the world, he reported, to their satis- 
 faction, that the people were well disposed in regard 
 to the king's marriage. At the same time the aspir- 
 ing knight was not forgetful of his own interests. 
 He entreated the Woodvilles to obtain, for himself 
 and his spouse, places in the new queen's household ; 
 and, by way of securing Elizabeth's favor, presented 
 her with a palfrey, as a mark of his devotion to her 
 service. What dependence was to be placed on the 
 faith or honor of Sir John Howard, Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville found twenty years later, when her hour of 
 trial and tribulation came. 
 
 And now Edward, whose fortunes half the royal 
 damsels of Europe, among others Isabella of Castile, 
 afterward the great Queen of Spain, were eager to 
 share, resolved upon declaring his marriage to the 
 world ; and, with that purpose, he summoned a great 
 council, to meet at the Abbey of Reading, in the au- 
 tumn of 1464. Having there presented Elizabeth 
 to the assembled peers as their queen, he ordered 
 preparations to be made for her coronation in the 
 ensuing spring. 
 
 In the mean time, the king's marriage caused se- 
 rious discontent. Warwick and Edward's brother, 
 the young Duke of Clarence, in particular, expressed 
 their displeasure ; the barons murmured that no King 
 of England, since the Conquest, had dared to many
 
 ELIZABETH'S CORONATION. 167 
 
 his own subject; and ladies of high rank, like the 
 Nevilles and De Veres, were, in no slight degree, 
 indignant at having set over them one whom they 
 had been accustomed to consider an inferior. At 
 the same time, the multitude, far from regarding the 
 marriage with the favor which Sir John Howard 
 had led the "Woodvilles to believe, raised the cry 
 that the Duchess of Bedford was a witch, and that 
 it was under the influence of the " forbidden spells" 
 she practiced that the young king had taken the fatal 
 step of espousing her daughter. 
 
 But nobody was more annoyed at Edward's mar- 
 riage than his own mother, Cicely, Duchess of York, 
 who, in other days, had been known in the north as 
 " The Hose of Raby," and who now maintained 
 great state at Baynard's Castle. From the begin- 
 ning, Elizabeth found no favor in the eyes of her 
 mother-in-law. With the beauty of the Nevilles, 
 Cicely inherited a full share of their pride ; and, in 
 her husband's lifetime, she had assumed something 
 like regal state. To such a woman an alliance with 
 third-rate Lancastrians was mortifying, and she bit- 
 terly reproached her son with the folly of the step 
 he had taken. Moreover, she upbraided him with 
 faithlessness to another lady; but Edward treated 
 the matter with characteristic recklessness. " Mad- 
 am," said he, " for your objection of bigamy, by 
 GOD'S Blessed Lady, let the bishop lay it to my
 
 169 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 charge when I come to take orders ; for I under- 
 stand it is forbidden to a priest, though I never wist 
 it was forbidden to a prince." 
 
 Not insensible, however, to the sneers of which 
 Elizabeth was the object, Edward determined on 
 proving to his subjects that his bride was, after all, 
 of royal blood, and therefore no unfit occupant of a 
 throne. With this purpose he entreated Charles 
 the Rash, Count of Charolois, and heir of Burgundy, 
 to send her uncle, James of Luxembourg, to the 
 coronation. The count, it appears, had never ac- 
 knowledged the existence of the Duchess of Bedford 
 since her second marriage ; but, on hearing of the 
 position Jacqueline's daughter had attained, his sen- 
 timents as to the Woodville alliance underwent a 
 complete change, and he promised to take part in 
 the coronation. 
 
 Faithful to his promise, the count appeared in 
 England with a magnificent retinue ; and his niece 
 was brought from the palace of Eltham, conducted 
 in great state through the city of London, and crown- 
 ed, with much pomp, at Westminster. Hardly, how- 
 ever, had Elizabeth Woodville been invested with 
 the symbols of royalty, than she found the crown sit 
 uneasily on her head. The efforts made to render 
 King Edward's marriage popular had failed. Even 
 the presence of a Count of Luxembourg had not pro- 
 duced the effect anticipated. Still the old barons
 
 THE QUEEN'S KLNDREU. 169 
 
 of England grumbled fiercely ; and still the people 
 continued to denounce the Duchess of Bedford as a 
 sorceress who had bewitched the king into marrying 
 her daughter. Ere long, this widow of a Lancas- 
 trian knight, when sharing the throne of the York- 
 ist king, found that, with the White Rose, she had 
 plucked the thorn. 
 
 The new queen conducted herself in such a way 
 as rapidly to increase the prejudices of the nation. 
 After her marriage she too frequently' reminded peo- 
 ple of the school in which she had studied the func- 
 tions of royalty. Indeed, Elizabeth Woodville, when 
 elevated to a throne, assumed a tone which great 
 queens like Eleanor of Castile and Philippa of Hai- 
 nault would never have dreamed of using. Chari- 
 tably inclined as the patrician ladies of England 
 might be, they could hardly help remarking that 
 Margaret of Anjou's maid of honor did credit to the 
 training of her mistress. 
 
 The people of England might have learned to 
 bear much from Edward's wife ; but, unfortunate- 
 ly, the queen was intimately associated in the pub- 
 lic mind with the rapacity of her " kindred." Eliza- 
 beth's father, Richard Woodville, was created Earl 
 Rivers, and appointed Treasurer of England ; and 
 she had numerous brothers and sisters, for all of 
 whom fortunes had to be provided. Each of the 
 sisters was married to a noble husband Katherine,
 
 170 THE WARS UK THE ROSES. 
 
 the youngest, to Henry Stafford, the boy-Duke of 
 Buckingham ; and for each of the brothers an heir- 
 ess to high titles and great estates had to be found. 
 Unfortunately, while the Woodvilles were pursuing 
 their schemes of family aggrandizement, their inter- 
 ests clashed with those of two powerful and popular 
 personages. These were the Duchess of York and 
 the Earl of Warwick. 
 
 Among the old nobility of England, whose names 
 are chronicled "by Dugdale, the Lord Scales occupied 
 an eminent position. At an early period they grant- 
 ed lands to religious houses and made pilgrimages 
 to the Holy Land, and in later days fought with the 
 Plantagenet kings in the wars of Scotland and 
 France. The last chief of the name, who, after 
 Northampton, suffered for his fidelity to the house 
 of Lancaster, left no sons. One daughter, however, 
 survived him ; and this lady, having been married to 
 a younger son of the Earl of Essex, was now a wid- 
 ow, twenty-four years of age, and one of the richest 
 heiresses in England. 
 
 Upon the heiress of Scales, Elizabeth Woodville 
 and the Duchess of York both set their hearts. The 
 Duchess wished to many the Avealthy widow to her 
 son George, Duke of Clarence ; and the queen was 
 not less anxious to bestow the young lady's hand on 
 her brother, Anthony Woodville, who was one of 
 the most accomplished gentlemen of the age. The
 
 THE HEIRESS OF THE HOLLANDS. 171 
 
 contest between the mother-in-law and the daugh- 
 ter-in-law was, doubtless, keen. The queen, how- 
 ever, carried her point ; and the duchess retreat- 
 ing, baffled and indignant, wrapped herself up in cold 
 hauteur. 
 
 Of all the English heiresses of that day, the great- 
 est, perhaps, was the daughter of the Duke and 
 Duchess of Exeter. The duke, having fought at 
 Towton and Hexham for the Red Eose, was now 
 braving poverty and exile for the house of Lancas- 
 ter ; but the duchess had not deemed it necessary 
 to make any such sacrifice. Being a daughter of 
 the Duke of York, she remained quietly at the court 
 of King Edward, her brother, and, while enjoying 
 the estates of her banished husband, acquired the 
 right to dispose of his daughter's hand. 
 
 The heiress of the Hollands was, of course, a prize 
 much coveted ; and Warwick thought her hand so 
 desirable, that he solicited her in marriage for his 
 nephew, young George Neville, the son of Lord 
 Montagu. The queen, however, was determined to 
 obtain this heiress for her eldest son, Thomas Grey, 
 who had been created Marquis of Dorset. The 
 Duchess of Exeter was, accordingly, dealt with, and 
 in such a fashion that the earl was disappointed, 
 while the queen congratulated her son on having 
 obtained a bride worthy of the rank to which he 
 had been elevated.
 
 172 THE WARS Or THE ROSES. 
 
 Warwick was nephew of the Duchess of York, 
 and both had already a grievance of which to com- 
 plain. They were now to have their family pride 
 wounded in a manner which, to souls so haughty, 
 must have been well-nigh intolerable. 
 
 Long ere the Wars of the Roses were thought of, 
 Katharine Neville, elder sister of the proud duchess, 
 and aunt of " The Stout Earl," was espoused by 
 John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. The duke de- 
 parted this life in 1433, and Katherine gave her 
 hand to an esquire named Strangways. When time 
 passed on, and Strangways died, she consoled her- 
 self with a third husband in the person of Viscount 
 Beaumont. The viscount went the way the duke 
 and the esquire had gone, and Katherine found her- 
 self a third time a widow. But the dowager had 
 buried her share of husbands ; she had passed the 
 age of eighty ; and as to a fourth dash at matri- 
 mony, that was surely a subject which could never 
 have entered into her head. 
 
 The Woodvilles were aware of the existence of 
 the old Duchess of Norfolk, and knew that the ven- 
 erable dame was rich ; and the queen's youngest 
 brother remained to be provided for. Setting de- 
 cency at defiance, they resolved upon a match ; and 
 though the wealthy dowager had considerably passed 
 the age of fourscore, and John Woodville had just 
 emerged from his teens, a marriage was solemnized.
 
 THE OLD DUCHESS OF NORFOLK. 173 
 
 The nation was deeply disgusted with the avarice 
 manifested on this occasion. Even Sir John How- 
 ard must now have confessed that the king's alli- 
 ance with the Woodvilles was not quite so satisfac- 
 tory to the people as he had predicted. The clamor 
 raised was too loud and general to be either disre- 
 garded or suppressed. The Nevilles must have 
 writhed under the ridicule to which their aged 
 kinswoman was exposed ; other adherents of the 
 White Rose must have blushed for the disgrace re- 
 flected on Edward of York from his wife's family ; 
 and the Lancastrian exiles, wearing threadbare gar- 
 ments and bearing fictitious names, as they climbed 
 narrow stairs and consumed meagre fare in the rich 
 cities of Flanders, must have felt hope and taken 
 heart, when to their ears came tidings of the shout 
 of indignation which all England was raising against 
 the new " queen's kindred."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE LANCASTRIANS IN EXILE. 
 
 Ox that day when Lord Montagu inflicted so se- 
 vere a defeat on the Lancastrians at Hexham, and 
 while the shouts of victory rose and swelled with 
 the breeze, a lady of thirty-five, but still possession 
 great personal attractions, accompanied by a boy 
 just entering his teens, fled for safety into a forest 
 which then extended over the district, and was 
 known far and wide as a den of outlaws. The 
 lady was Margaret of Anjou ; the boy was Edward 
 of Lancaster; and, unfortunately for them, under 
 the circumstances, the dress and appearance of the 
 royal fugitives marked them too plainly as person- 
 ages of the highest rank. 
 
 While treading the forest path with a tremulous 
 haste, which indicated some apprehension of pursuit, 
 Margaret and her son suddenly found themselves 
 face to face with a band of ferocious robbers. The 
 bandits were far from paying any respect to the 
 queen's rank or sex. Having seized her jewels and 
 other valuables, they dragged her forcibly before the 
 chief of the gang, held a drawn sword before her 
 eyes, and menaced her with instant death. Mar-
 
 THE QUEEN AND THE OUTLAW. 175 
 
 garet besought them to spare her life, but her pray- 
 ers and tears had no effect whatever in melting their 
 hearts ; and they appeared on the point of carrying 
 their threats into execution, when, luckily, they fell 
 to wrangling over the partition of the spoil, and, 
 ere long, took to settling the dispute by strength of 
 hand. 
 
 Alarmed, as Margaret well might be, she did not 
 lose her presence of mind. No sooner did she ob- 
 serve the bandits fighting among themselves than 
 she looked around for a way of escape ; and, seizing 
 a favorable opportunity, she hurried her son into a 
 thicket which concealed them from view. Pursu- 
 ing their way till the shades of evening closed over 
 the forest, the royal fugitives, faint from fatigue and 
 want of food, seated themselves under an oak-tree, 
 and bewailed their fate. 
 
 No wonder that, at such moments of desolation 
 and distress, the Lancastrian queen felt a temptation 
 to rid herself of a life which misfortune made so mis- 
 erable. Even the heroic spirit of Margaret might 
 have given way under circumstances so depressing 
 as those in which she was now placed. But a new 
 and unexpected danger occurred to recall her to en- 
 ergy while indulging in those pensive reflections; 
 for, as the moon began to shine through the branches 
 of the trees, she suddenly became aware of the ap- 
 proach of an armed man of huge stature. At first
 
 176 THE WARS OF THE ROSES 
 
 she was under the impression that he was one of the 
 robbers from whom she had already experienced 
 treatment so cruel, and gave herself up for lost; 
 but seeing, by the light of the moon, that his dress 
 and appearance were quite different, she breathed a 
 prayer, and resolved upon a great effort to save her- 
 self and her son. 
 
 Margaret knew that escape was impossible. She, 
 therefore, made no attempt at flight ; but, rising, she 
 took her son by the hand, advanced to meet the man, 
 explained in pathetic language the distress in which 
 she was, and, as a Avoman and a princess, claimed 
 his protection. " It is the unfortunate Queen of 
 England," said Margaret, "who has fallen into your 
 hands ;" and then, suiting the action to the word, 
 she added in accents not to be resisted, " There, 
 my friend, I commit to your care the safety of your 
 king's son." 
 
 The queen had taken a bold course, but she had 
 correctly calculated the effect of her appeal. Her 
 courage and presence of mind had saved her. The 
 generosity of the outlaw prevailed ; and, touched 
 with the confidence reposed in him, he threw him- 
 self at Margaret's feet, and vowed to do all in his 
 power to save the mother and the son. Having 
 once promised, the man of the forest kept his word 
 with a loyalty that his betters might have envied. 
 He conducted the fugitives to his dwelling in a
 
 MARGARET'S APPEAL TO SCOTLAND. 179 
 
 rock, which is still shown as " The Queen's Cave," 
 instructed his wife to do every thing that would tend 
 to their comfort, and promised to discover for them 
 the means of escape. 
 
 Leaving Margaret and her son in his cave, the 
 mouth of which was protected by the bank of a riv- 
 ulet, and screened from view by brushwood, the out- 
 law went to inquire after such of her friends as had 
 escaped the carnage of Ilexham. More fortunate 
 than could have been expected, he met Sir Peter 
 Breze, who was wandering about looking for the 
 queen, and, soon after, Breze found the Duke of 
 Exeter, who had concealed himself in a neighboring 
 village, and, with the duke, Edmund Beaufort, who 
 had now, by the death of his brother on the scaffold, 
 become head of the house of Somerset. With these 
 noblemen, Margaret and the prince went secretly to 
 Carlisle, and there, with the assistance of the gener- 
 ous outlaw, embarked for Kirkcudbright, 
 
 Margaret, on reaching Scotland, visited Edinburgh 
 to make another appeal to the government, but was 
 not successful in obtaining farther aid. In fact, al- 
 though the matrimonial negotiations between Mary 
 of Gucldres and Edward of York had come to 
 naught, the Scottish government was now utterly 
 hostile to the interests of Lancaster. The Duke 
 of Burgundy, hereditary foe of Margaret, had sent 
 Louis do Bruges, one of his noblemen, as embassa-
 
 180 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 dor to the Scottish court, and contrived to make the 
 regency play false, repudiate the marriage between 
 the Prince of Wales and the Princess of Scotland, 
 and conclude a treaty with the new King of En- 
 gland. 
 
 The Lancastrians now perceived that for the pres- 
 ent action was impossible, and exile inevitable. Even 
 in France their influence had diminished ; for, since 
 Margaret's visit to Paris, Mary of Anjou, her aunt 
 and the mother of Louis, had died ; and less inclina- 
 tion than ever felt the crafty king to make sacrifices 
 for his fiery kinswoman. Margaret, therefore, yield- 
 ed to fate, and, not without vowing vengeance on 
 Burgundy, submitted to the harsh necessity of once 
 more returning to the Continent. AVith this view, 
 she repaired to Bamburgh, which was still held by 
 Lancastrians, and with her son, and Sir Peter Breze, 
 and seven ladies, she embarked for France. 
 
 It was summer, but notwithstanding the season 
 the weather proved unpropitious, and the unfortu- 
 nate queen, driven by adverse winds, was under the 
 necessity of putting into a port belonging to the 
 Duke of Burgundy. Enemy of her father as the 
 duke was, Margaret determined upon seeing him, 
 and, suppressing all feelings of delicacy, she dispatch- 
 ed a messenger to demand an interview. 
 
 The house of Burgundy, like that of Anjou, de- 
 rived descent from the kings of France, but had been
 
 THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY. 181 
 
 blessed with far fairer fortunes. About ]360, on 
 the death of Philip de Rouvre, the dukedom, having 
 reverted to the crown, was bestowed by King John 
 on his fourth son, Philip the Bold. Philip played 
 his cards well. AVhile his brother Charles was 
 struggling with the English, he became an independ- 
 ent prince by espousing the heiress of Flanders ; and 
 his son, John the F'earless, played a, conspicuous 
 part in those civil commotions that preceded the 
 battle of Agincourt. The son of John, known as 
 Philip the Good, affected greater state than any 
 prince of his age, and instituted the order of the 
 Golden Fleece to mark the splendor of his reign. 
 
 Philip's first wife was Michelle, daughter of the 
 King of France, and sister of Katherine de Valois. 
 His second wife was Isabel of Portugal, a grand- 
 daughter of John of Gaunt. The good duke was, 
 therefore, nearly and doubly connected with the 
 house of Lancaster. Unfortunately, however, Philip 
 had proved an enemy of King Rene ; and Margaret, 
 who from infancy had cherished a bitter hatred to- 
 ward the house of Burgundy, was reputed to have 
 vowed that if ever the duke was at her mercy the 
 executioner's axe should pass between his head and 
 his shoulders. Such having been the language held 
 by the queen, it is not wonderful that (he duke, 
 while receiving her message with politeness, should 
 have pleaded sickness as an excuse for not granting 
 her a personal interview.
 
 182 THK WAKS OK THE RUSES 
 
 .Margaret was in no mood to be satisfied with ex- 
 cuses. She hud expressed her intention of set ing 
 the duke, and was determined to accomplish her 
 purpose. She was hardly in a condition, indeed, to 
 pay a royal visit, for her purse was empty, and her 
 wardrobe reduced to the smallest compass. But, 
 scorning to be subdued by fortune, the queen hired 
 a cart covered with canvas, and, leaving her son at 
 .Bruges, commenced her progress to St. Pol, where 
 the duke was then residing. It was about the time 
 when Margaret, dressed in threadbare garments, was 
 traveling from Bruges to St. Pol in a covered cart, 
 that, in the Abbey of Heading, her maid of honor, 
 Elizabeth Woodville, was presented to peers and 
 prelates as Queen of England. 
 
 While pursuing her journey, with a spirit of hero- 
 ism which set outward circumstances at defiance, 
 .Margaret was met by Charles the Gash, that imper- 
 sonation of feudal pride, whose exploits against the 
 Swiss, when Duke of Burgundy, have been cele- 
 brated by Sir Walter Scott. Charles, at this time, 
 had hardly passed the age of thirty, and, as son and 
 heir of Philip the Good, with whom he was then at 
 enmity, bore the title of Count of Charolois. As 
 the son of Isabel of Portugal, and great-grandson of 
 John of Gaunt, the count had always declared him- 
 self friendly to the house of Lancaster, and he now 
 manifested his sympathy by treating Margaret with
 
 MARGARET AM) BURGUNDY. IS} 
 
 chivalrous respect. Moreover, on being made aware 
 of her extreme poverty, Charolois presented her with 
 five hundred crowns ; and Burgundy, hearing of the 
 landing of English forces at Calais, pent a body of 
 his archers to escort her from Bethune to St. Pol. 
 Having, after her interview with Churolois, pursued 
 her way toward Bethune, and escaped some English 
 horsemen who lay in wait to arrest her, she reached 
 St. Pol in safety. 
 
 Duke Phiui) did not immediately grant Margaret 
 an interview. After some delay, however, he in- 
 dulged her wish ; and, touched with compassion at 
 the sight of a great queen reduced to a plight so 
 hapless, entertained her with princely courtesy, and 
 treated her with all the honors due to royalty. 
 Having listened to the story of Margaret's woes, he 
 gave her two thousand crowns of gold, and advised 
 her to await events with patience. As Margaret 
 parted from the duke her heart melted, and she shed 
 tears as she bade adieu to the old man whom she 
 had threatened to behead as she had done York and 
 Salisbury. Perhaps on that occasion she, for one 
 of the first times in her life, felt something like re- 
 morse. "The queen," says Monstrelet, "repented 
 much and thought herself unfortunate that she had 
 not sooner thrown herself on the protection of the 
 noble Duke of Burgundy, as her affairs would prob- 
 ably have prospered better."
 
 l-l THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Having returned to Bruges, and been joined by 
 the Prince of Wales. Margaret paid a visit to the 
 Count of Charolois. Never were royal exiles more 
 royally treated. The count exhibited a degree of 
 delicacy and generosity Avorthy of an earlier era ; 
 and, indeed, Avas so deferential, that the Piinfo of 
 Wales, who had known little of royalty but its perils 
 and misfortunes, could not refrain from expressing 
 his surprise. 
 
 " These honors," said the boy, ' ; are not due from 
 you to us ; neither in your father's dominions should 
 precedence be given to persons so destitute as we 
 are." 
 
 " Unfortunate though you be," answered the 
 count, "you are the son of the King of England, 
 Avhile I am only the son of a ducal sovereign ; and 
 that is not so high a rank." 
 
 Leaving Bruges with her son, Margaret Avas es- 
 corted to Barr Avith all the honor due to the royal 
 rank. At Barr, the exiled queen was met and Avel- 
 comed by her father, King Rene, \vlio gave her an 
 old castle in Verdun as a residence till better days 
 should come. Thither Margaret Avent to establish 
 her little court ; and thither, to be educated in the 
 accomplishments in fashion at the period, she car- 
 ried the young prince around Avhom all her hopes 
 now clustered. 
 
 Two hundred Lancastrians of name and reputa
 
 THE EXILES. 185 
 
 tion shared the exile of Margaret of Anjou. Among 
 these were Lord Kendal, a Gascon ; the Bishop of 
 St. Asapli, the young Lord De Roos and his kins- 
 man, Sir Henry; John Courtenay, younger brother 
 of Devon's Earl ; Edmund Beaufort, the new Duke 
 of Somerset, and his brother John, whom the Lan- 
 castrians called Marquis of Dorset ; Henry Holland, 
 Duke of Exeter always, notwithstanding his rela- 
 tionship to Edward, faithful to the Red Rose ; Jas- 
 per Tudor, who clung to Lancaster as if with a pro- 
 phetic notion that with the fortunes of the house 
 were associated those of his own family ; John Mor- 
 ton, Parson of Blokesworth, whose talents subse- 
 quently made him a cardinal and an archbishop ; 
 and Sir John Fortescue, Chief Justice of England, 
 one of the most upright judges who ever wore the 
 ermine. Such rnen, when the fortunes of the house 
 of Lancaster were at their worst, were prepared to 
 suffer poverty and want in Henry's cause. 
 
 The banished queen could ill brook the obscurity 
 of Verdun. It soon appeared that, notwithstanding 
 so many disheartening reverses, Margaret retained 
 her courage unimpaired ; and that want, disappoint- 
 ment, mortification, had been unable to break her 
 spirit or conquer her ambition. Hardly had the 
 court of the exiles been formed at Verdun, when the 
 queen renewed her efforts to regain the crown which 
 she had already found so thorny.
 
 IM; THE WARS OF THE ROSKS 
 
 At that time Alphonso the Fifth reigned in Por- 
 tugal ; ami Portugal was rich, o-.ving lo tlie quan- 
 tity of gold yearly brought from (luinca. More- 
 ox or. King Alphonso was a remarkable man. In 
 hi- fiery nature were blended all the elements of 
 love, chivalry, and religion; and though living in 
 the fifteenth century he resembled a paladin of the 
 age of Roland and Oliver. Through hi- grand- 
 mother, Philippa, of Lancaster, Alphonso inherited 
 the blood of John of Gaunt; and i: was supposed 
 that he would naturally feel much of that sympathy 
 for the house of Lancaster which had been ever ex- 
 pressed by the Count of Charolois. 
 
 Accordingly, Margaret turned her eyes toward 
 Portugal for aid, and employed John Butler, Earl 
 of Ormond, to enlist Alphonso in her cause. Or- 
 mond, who, upon the execution of his brother, the 
 Earl of Wiltshire, after Towton, had become the 
 chief of the Butlers, was one of the most accom- 
 plished gentlemen of his nge, and a master of the 
 various languages then spoken in Europe. No fit- 
 ter embassador could have been found ; but he was 
 not successful. In fact, although Alphonso was all 
 his life engaged in chimerical enterprises, he could 
 hardly have indulged in the delusion of being able 
 to wrest a crown from Edward Plantagenet and 
 Richard Neville. Not even that knight-errant 
 would risk reputation against such odds. At all
 
 ALPHONSO OF PORTUGAL. 187 
 
 events the negotiation appears to have come to 
 naught ; and Ormonil, doubtless, convinced that the 
 fortunes of Lancaster were hopeless, returned to 
 England, and made his submission. Edward re- 
 stored the accomplished nobleman to the honors 
 and estates of the Butlers, with a complimentary 
 remark. " If good-breeding and liberal qualities," 
 said the king, " were lost in all the world, they 
 w\Hild still be found in the Earl of Ormond." 
 
 About the time when Ormond's mission failed, 
 Margaret received intelligence that her husband had 
 fallen into the hands of her enemies. Finding, per- 
 haps, that Scottish hospitality was hard to bear, 
 Henry, about a year after Hexham, removed to the 
 north of England, and in July, 1465, while sitting 
 at dinner in Waddington Hall, he was seized by Sir 
 John Harrington, and sent prisoner to London. At 
 Islington the captive king was met by Warwick, 
 who lodged him securely in the Tower ; and Henry, 
 treated with humanity, forgot, in the practice of a 
 monkish devotion, the crown he had lost and the 
 world he had left. 
 
 The captivity of their king was not the only mis- 
 fortune which, at this period, befell the Lancastrians. 
 In 14G7, Harleck Castle, their last strong-hold, was 
 under the necessity of yielding. Davydd ap Jefan 
 ap Einion held out to the last ; but when the garri- 
 son was on the point of starvation, the brave Welsh
 
 188 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 captain listened to the dictates of humanity, and sur- 
 rendered with honor. 
 
 Even after the fall of Harleck, Margaret's high 
 spirit sustained her hopes. In 1467, she is under- 
 stood to have come to London, disguised as a priest, 
 to rouse her partisans to action, and even to have 
 had an interview with her husband in the Tower. 
 Next year she sent Jasper Tudor to Wales ; and he 
 laid siege to Denbigh. King Edward himself was 
 in the castle, and the utmost peril of being taken 
 prisoner. He contrived to escape, however; and 
 the fortress surrendered. But a Yorkist named 
 William Herbert went with an army, and inflicted 
 such a defeat on Jasper that he was fain to escape 
 to the Continent. Nevertheless, in October, Mar- 
 garet lay at Ilarfleur threatening an invasion. Ed- 
 ward, however, sent his brother-in-law, Anthony 
 Woodville, who now, in right of his wife, figured as 
 Lord Scales, to attack the fleet of his, old patroness; 
 and the exiled queen, seeing no chance of success, 
 abandoned her expedition in despair. 
 
 But even in despair Margaret could show herself 
 heroic and sublime. Thus, when some of her Con- 
 tinental kinsfolk were, in a vulgar spirit, lamenting 
 her unfortunate marriage, and describing h?r union 
 with the unhappy Henry as the cause of all her mis- 
 fortune, she raised her head with regal pride, and 
 contemptuously rebuked their foolish talk. "On the 
 day of my betrothal." exclaimed she, with poetic
 
 MARGARET AT VERDUN 189 
 
 eloquence, " when I accepted the Rose of England, 
 I knew that I must wear the rose entire and with 
 all its thorns." 
 
 In the midst of adversity the exiled queen had 
 one consolation. Edward, Prince of Wales, was a 
 son of whom any mother might have been proud, 
 and day by day he grew more accomplished in the 
 warlike exercises of the age. Nor, though in al- 
 most hopeless adversity, did the prince lack instruc- 
 tion in weightier matters ; for Fortescue undertook 
 the task of educating the banished heir of Lan- 
 caster, endeavored so to form the mind of the royal 
 boy as to enable him to enact in after years the part 
 of a patriot-king, and compiled for his pupil the "JDe 
 Laudibus Legurn Anglia:;" a work explaining the 
 laws of England, and suggesting the improvements 
 that might with advantage be introduced. 
 
 Five years of exile passed over ; and during that 
 time every attempt of the Lancastrians to better their 
 position proved disastrous. It was when matters 
 were at the worst when the Red Rose had dis- 
 appeai-ed, and the Red Rose-tree had withered from 
 England that circumstances occurred which in- 
 spired the despairing adherents of the captive king 
 with high hopes, diverted the thoughts of the exiled 
 queen from reminiscences of the past to specula- 
 tions on the future, and opened up to her son the 
 prospect of a throne, only to conduct him to an 
 untimely grave.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 AVARWICK AND THK WOODVILLES. 
 
 AT a court, over which Elizabeth Woodville ex- 
 ercised all the influence derived from her rank a 5 a 
 queen and her fascination as a woman, the Earl of 
 Warwick was somewhat out of place. By Wood- 
 ville?, Herberts, and Howards, he was regarded with 
 awe and envy as the haughtiest representative of 
 England's patricians. Especially to the queen and 
 her kinsmen his presence was irksome ; and, know- 
 ing that uny attempt to make "The Stout Earl" .1 
 courtier after the Woodville pattern was hopeless 
 as to convert a bird of prey into a barn-door fowl, 
 they were at no pains to conceal the pleasure they 
 felt in mortifying his pride and destroying his influ- 
 ence. One possibility does not seem to have struck 
 them. The Woodvilles themselves, to receive bene- 
 fits, had teen suddenly converted from the Red Rose 
 to the White ; Warwick, to avenge the nation's in- 
 juries and his own, might as suddenly be converted 
 from the White Rose to the Red. 
 
 Notwithstanding the exile of Lancastrians and the 
 disconfo':' <;f Yorkists, no court in Christendom was 
 more brilliant than that of King Edward. Indeed,
 
 MARGARET PLANTAGENET 191 
 
 foreign cmbassadors confessed, with mingled envy 
 and admiration, that their eyes were dazzled by the 
 surpassing loveliness, of the damsels who appeared 
 at state balls in the Palace of Westminster; and 
 among these fair beings, perhaps, none was more in- 
 teresting than the king's sifter, Margaret, youngest 
 daughter of Richard Plantagenet and Cicely Neville. 
 
 Two daughters of the Duke of York were already 
 wives. Both had been married to English dukes 
 one to Exeter, another to Suffolk ; and it Avas known 
 that Edward, having, by his union with Elizabeth 
 Woodvillo, lost the opportunity of allying himself 
 with the Continental dynasties, contemplated for 
 his remaining sister a, marriage with some foreign 
 prince capable of aiding him in case of a change of 
 fortune. 
 
 Suitors were not, of course, wanting when so fair 
 a princess as Margaret Plantagenet was to be won ; 
 and it happened that while Warwick was at feud with 
 the Woodvilles while the populace were clamoring 
 against the new men with whom the king's court, 
 swarmed her hand was contended for by Louis of 
 France, for a prince of the blood royal, and by Louis 
 of Bruges for the Count of Charolois, who, since hi* 
 interview with Margaret of Anjou, had taken up 
 arms against Louis and defeated him in the battle 
 of Montlhery. The choice was a matter of some 
 difficulty ; for the Woodvilles and Warwick took
 
 102 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 different sides of the question. The queen's kin- 
 dred favored the suit of the Count of Charolois ; 
 while " The Stout Earl," between whom and the 
 Burgundian no amity existed, declared decidedly 
 for an alliance with France. Edward was in some 
 perplexity, but at length he yielded to the earl's 
 arguments; and, in 1467, the frank, unsuspecting 
 king-maker departed to negotiate a marriage Avith 
 that celebrated master of kingcraft, whose maxim 
 was, that he who knew not how to dissemble knew 
 not how to reign. 
 
 When Louis heard of Warwick's embassy he 
 could not help thinking the occasion favorable for 
 the exercise of his craft. He resolved to give the 
 earl such a reception as might stir the jealousy of 
 Edward, and acted in such a manner as to create in 
 the breast of the English king suspicions of the pow- 
 erful noble who had placed him on a throne. Hav- 
 ing landed at Harfleur, Warwick was, on the 7th 
 of June, conveyed in a barge to the village of La 
 Bouille, on the Seine. On arriving at La Bouille, 
 he found a magnificent banquet prepared for him, 
 and the king ready to act as host. After having 
 been sumptuously feasted, Warwick embarked in his 
 boat for Rouen, whither the king and his attendants 
 went by land ; and the inhabitants of the town met 
 the earl at the gate of the Quay St. Eloy, where the 
 king had ordered a most honorable reception. Ban-
 
 WARWICK AT ROUEN. 193 
 
 ners, crosses, and holy water were then presented to 
 Warwick by priests in their copes ; and he was con- 
 ducted in procession to the cathedral, where he made 
 his oblation, and thence to lodgings prepared for him 
 at the monastery of the Jacobins. 
 
 Having thus received Warwick with the honors 
 usually paid to royalty, Louis entertained the great 
 earl in a style corresponding with the reception ; 
 and even ordered the queen and princesses to come 
 to Rouen to testify their respect. The crafty king, 
 meantime, did not refrain from those mischievous 
 tricks at which he was such an adept. While War- 
 wick staid at Rouen Louis lodged in the next house, 
 and visited the earl at all hours, passing through a 
 private door with such an air of mystery, as might, 
 when reported to Edward, raise suspicions that some 
 conspiracy had been hatching. 
 
 After the conference at Rouen had lasted, for 
 twelve days, Louis departed for Chartres, and War- 
 wick set sail for England. The earl had been quite 
 successful in the object of his mission ; and he was 
 accompanied home by the Archbishop of Narbonne, 
 charged by Louis to put the finishing stroke to the 
 treaty which was to detach the French king forever 
 from the Lancastrian alliance. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Woodvilles had not been idle. 
 Far from submitting patiently to the earl's triumph, 
 they had labored resolutely to mortify his pride and 
 N
 
 194 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 frustrate his mission. The business was artfully 
 managed. Anthony Woodville, in the name of the 
 ladies of England, revived an old challenge to An- 
 thony, Count de la Roche, an illegitimate son of the 
 Duke of Burgundy ; and the count, commonly call- 
 ed " The Bastard of Burgundy," having accepted the 
 challenge, with the usual forms, intimated his inten- 
 tion to come to England without delay. 
 
 The news crept abroad that a great passage of 
 arms was to take place ; and the highest expecta- 
 tions were excited by the prospect. The king him- 
 self entered into the spirit of the busmess, consented 
 to act as umpire, and made such arrangements as, it 
 was conceived, would render the tournament mem- 
 orable. Several months were spent in adjusting the 
 preliminaries ; and the noblest knights of France 
 and Scotland were invited to honor the tournament 
 with their presence. 
 
 At length the Bastard of Bui-gundy arrived in 
 London with a splendid retinue ; and lists were 
 erected in Smithfield, with pavilions for the com- 
 batants, and galleries around for the ladies of Ed- 
 ward's court and other noble personages who had 
 been invited to witness the pageant. On the llth 
 of June, all the ceremonies prescribed by the laws 
 of chivalry having been performed, the combatants 
 prepared for the encounter, and advanced on horse- 
 back from their pavilions into the middle of the in-
 
 A TOURNAMENT AT SMITHFIELD. 195 
 
 closed space. After having answered the usual 
 questions, they took their places in the lists, and, at 
 the sound of trumpet, spurred their steeds and 
 charged each other with sharp spears. Both cham- 
 pions, however, bore themselves fairly in the en- 
 counter, and parted with equal honor. 
 
 On the second day of the Smithfield tournament, 
 the result was somewhat less gratifying to the Bur- 
 gundian. On this occasion the champions again 
 fought on horseback ; and, as it happened, the steed 
 of Anthony Woodville had a long and sharp pike of 
 steel on his chaffron. This weapon was destined to 
 have great influence on the fortunes of the day ; for, 
 while the combatants were engaged hand to hand, 
 the pike's point entered the nostrils of the Bastard's 
 steed, and the animal, infuriated by the pain, reared 
 and plunged till he fell on his side. The Bastard 
 was, of course, borne to the ground ; and Anthony 
 Woodville, riding round about with his drawn sword, 
 asked his opponent to yield. At this point, the 
 marshals, by the king's command, interfered, and 
 extricated the Burgundian from his fallen steed. 
 " I could not hold me by the clouds," exclaimed the 
 brave Bastard ; " but, though my horse fail me, I 
 will not fail my encounter." The king, however, 
 decided against the combat being then renewed. 
 
 Another day arrived, and the champions, armed 
 with battle-axes, appeared on foot within the lists.
 
 196 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 This day proved as unfortunate for the Bastard as 
 the former had been. Both knights, indeed, bore 
 themselves valiantly ; but, at a critical moment, the 
 point of Woodville's axe penetrated the sight-hole 
 of his antagonist's helmet, and, availing himself of 
 this advantage, Anthony was on the point of so 
 twisting his weapon as to bring the Burgundian to 
 his knee. At that instant, however, the king cast 
 down his warder, and the marshals hastened to sever 
 the combatants. The Bastard, having no relish for 
 being thus worsted, declared himself far from con- 
 tent, and demanded of the king, in the name of jus- 
 tice, that he should be allowed to perform his en- 
 terprise. Edward thereupon appealed to the mar- 
 shals ; and they, having considered the matter, de- 
 cided that by the laws of the tournament the Bur- 
 gundian was entitled to have his demand granted ; 
 but that, in such a case, he must be delivered to his 
 adversary in precisely the same predicament as when 
 the king interfered in fact, with the point of An- 
 thony Woodville's weapon thrust into the crevice 
 of his vizor: "which," says Dugdale, "when the 
 Bastard understood, he relinquished his farther chal- 
 lenge." 
 
 The tournament at Smithfield, unlike " the gen- 
 tle passage at Ashby," terminated without blood- 
 shed. Indeed, neither Anthony Woodville nor his 
 antagonist felt any ambition to die in their
 
 THE BURGUNDJAN ALLIANCE. 1Q7 
 
 in the lists ; and the Bastard, in visiting England, 
 had a much more practical object in view than to 
 afford amusement to gossiping citizens. He was, in 
 fact, commissioned by the Count of Charolois to press 
 the English king on the subject of a match with 
 Margaret of York ; and he played his part so well 
 as to elicit from Edward, notwithstanding Warwick's 
 embassy, a promise that the hand of the princess 
 should be given to the heir of Burgundy. When 
 Warwick returned from France and found what had 
 been done in his absence, he considered that he had 
 been dishonored. Such usage would, at any time, 
 have grated hard on the earl's heart ; and the idea 
 of the Woodvilles having been the authors of this 
 wrong made his blood boil with indignation. He 
 forthwith retired to Middleham, in a humor the re- 
 verse of serene, and there brooded over his wrongs 
 in a mood the reverse of philosophic. 
 
 The king did not allow the king-maker's anger to 
 die for want of fuel. On the contrary, having given 
 Warwick serious cause of offense, he added insult to 
 injury by pretending that the earl had been gained 
 over by Louis to the Lancastrian cause, and that 
 the state was in no small danger from his treason- 
 able attempts. At the same time, he abruptly de- 
 prived George Neville, Archbishop of York,* of the 
 
 * "George Neville, brother to the great Earl of War- 
 wick, at his installment into his archbishopric of York, made
 
 198 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 office of chancellor thus indicating still farther dis- 
 trust of the great family to whose efforts he owed 
 his crown. 
 
 While rumors as to Warwick's new-born sympa- 
 thies with the house of Lancaster were afloat, the 
 Castle of Harleck fell into the king's hands. With- 
 in the fortress was taken an agent of Margaret ; and 
 he, on being put to the rack, declared that Warwick, 
 during his mission to France, had, at Rouen, spoken 
 with favor of the exiled queen, during a confidential 
 conversation with Louis. Warwick treated the ac- 
 cusation with contempt, and declined to leave his 
 castle to be confronted with the accuser. 
 
 This unfortunate incident was little calculated to 
 smooth the way for a reconciliation. Nevertheless, 
 
 a prodigious feast to the nobility, chief clergy, and many 
 gentry, wherein he spent 300 quarters of wheat, 330 tuns of 
 ale, 104 tuns of wine, I pipe of spiced wine, 80 fat oxen, 6 
 wild bulls, 1004 sheep, 3000 hogs, 300 calves, 3000 geese, 
 3000 capons, 300 pigs, 100 peacocks, 200 cranes, 200 kids, 
 2000 chickens, 4000 pigeons, 4000 rabbits, 204 bittours, 4000 
 ducks, 400 herons, 200 pheasants, 500 partridges, 4000 wood- 
 cocks, 400 plovers, 100 curlews, 100 quails, 100 egrets, 200 
 rees, above 400 bucks, does, and roebucks, 550G venison 
 pasties, 5000 dishes of jelly, GOOO custards, 300 pikes, 300 
 breams, 8 seals, 4 porpoises, and 400 tarts. At this feast 
 the Earl of Warwick was steward, the Lord Hastings comp- 
 troller, with many other noble officers, 1000 servitors, 62 
 cooks, 515 scullions." Burton's Admirable Curiosities in En- 
 gland.
 
 THE BURGUNDIAN ALLIANCE 199 
 
 the Archbishop of York, who had a keen eye for 
 liis own interest, undertook to mediate between his 
 brother and the king. The churchman was suc- 
 cessful in his efforts ; and in July, 1468, when Mar- 
 garet Plantagenet departed from England for her 
 new home, Warwick rode before her, through the 
 city of London, as if to indicate by his presence that 
 he had withdrawn his objections to her marriage 
 with the Count of Charolois, who, in the previous 
 year, on the death of his father, had succeeded to 
 the ducal sovereignty of Burgundy. 
 
 The chroniclers might with propriety have de- 
 scribed this as a second " dissimulated love-day." 
 No true reconcilement could take place between 
 the king and the king-maker. Warwick considered 
 Edward the most ungrateful of mankind ; and the 
 king thought of the earl, as the Regent-Duke of 
 Albany said of the third Lord Home, that "he 
 was too great to be a subject." The king regard- 
 ed Warwick's patriotic counsel with aversion : the 
 earl's discontent could be read by the multitude in 
 his frank face. Each, naturally, began to calculate 
 his strength. 
 
 Edward had one source of consolation. In giving 
 his sister to Burgundy he had gained a potent ally 
 on the Continent ; and he rejoiced to think that, in 
 the event of a change of fortune, a relative so near 
 would assuredly befriend him. Edward, like other
 
 200 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 men, deceived himself on such subjects. He little 
 iinugined how soon he would have to ask his brother- 
 in-law's protection, and how he should find that Bur- 
 gundy, while taking a wife from the house of York, 
 had not quite laid his prejudices in favor of the 
 house of Lancaster. 
 
 Warwick, on his part, felt aught rather than satis- 
 fied. Notwithstanding his appearance at court, he 
 was brooding over the injury that he had received. 
 Convinced of the expediency of making friends, he 
 addressed himself to the king's brothers George, 
 Duke of Clarence, and Richard, Duke of Glouces- 
 ter. Of Gloucester the earl could make nothing. 
 The wily boy played with his dagger as he was 
 wont, and maintained such a reserve that it would 
 have been imprudent to trust him. With Clarence 
 the earl had more success. Indeed, the duke com- 
 plained of the king's unkindness ; and particularly 
 that though Edward had given rich heiresses to 
 Dorset and Woodville, he had found no match for 
 his own brother. Having both something of which 
 to complain, the earl and the duke formed an alli- 
 ance offensive and defensive ; and a project was 
 formed for binding them to each other by a tie 
 which the Nevilles deemed could hardly be broken. 
 
 Warwick had not been blessed with a son to in- 1 
 herit his vast estates, his great name, and his popu- 
 larity, which was quite undiminished. He, how-
 
 MARRIAGE OF ISABEL NEVILLE. 201 
 
 ever, had two daughters Isabel and Anne whose 
 birth and lineage were such as to put them on a 
 level with any prince in Europe. It appears that 
 Isabel had inspired Clarence with an ardent attach- 
 ment ; but the king and " the queen's kindred" 
 were averse to a match. Warwick now declared 
 that the marriage should take place in spite of their 
 hostility ; and Clarence agreed, for Isabel's sake, to 
 defy both Edward and the Woodvilles. 
 
 Having taken their resolution, the duke and the 
 earl, in the summer of 1469, sailed for Calais, of 
 which Warwick was still governor. Preparations 
 were made for uniting Clarence and Isabel ; and in 
 the month of July, "in the Chapel of Our Lady," the 
 ill-starred marriage was solemnized with a pomp be- 
 fitting the rank of a Plantagenet bridegroom and a 
 Neville bride. 
 
 King Edward no sooner heard of this marriage 
 than he expressed strong displeasure. Unkind 
 words passed in consequence ; and, from that date, 
 no affection existed between the king and the king- 
 maker. About the same time there appeared in 
 the heavens a comet, such as had been seen on the 
 eve of great national changes as before Hastings, 
 which gave England to the Norman yoke, and Eve- 
 sham, which freed Englishmen from the domination 
 of a foreign baronage and an alien church. The su- 
 perstitious were immediately struck with the " blaz-
 
 202 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ing star," and expressed their belief that it heralded 
 a political revolution. Others did not look at the 
 sky for signs of a coming struggle. Indeed, those 
 who were capable of comprehending the events pass- 
 ing before them could entertain little doubt that 
 England had not yet seen the last of the Wars of 
 the Roses.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 DESPOTISM, DISCONTENT, AND DISORDER. 
 
 WHILE the Woodvilles were supreme, and while 
 Edward was under their influence disheartening the 
 ancient barons of England, and alienating the great 
 noble to whom he owed the proudest crown in 
 Christendom, the imprudent king did not ingratiate 
 himself with the multitude by any display of respect 
 for those rights and liberties to maintain which 
 Warwick had won Northampton and Towton. In- 
 deed, the government was disfigured by acts of un- 
 disguised tyranny ; and torture, albeit known to be 
 illegal in England, was freely used, as during the 
 Lancastrian rule, to extort evidence. Even the 
 laws of the first Edward and his great minister, 
 Robert de Burnel, were in danger of going as much 
 out of fashion as the chain armor in which Roger 
 Bigod and Humphrey Bohun charged at Lewes and 
 Evesham. 
 
 Edward's first victim was William Walker. This 
 man kept a tavern in Cheapside, known as "The 
 Crown," and there a club, composed of young men, 
 had been in the habit of meeting. These fell under 
 the suspicion of being Lancastrians, and were sup-
 
 201 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 posed to be plotting a restoration. No evidence to 
 that effect existed ; but, unfortunately, tbe host, be- 
 ing one clay in a jocular mood, while talking to his 
 son, who was a boy, said, " Tom, if thou behavest 
 thyself. I'll make thee heir to the crown." Every 
 body knew that Walker's joke alluded to his sign ; 
 yet, when the words were reported, he was arrest- 
 ed, and, as if in mockery of common sense, indicted 
 for imagining and compassing the death of the king. 
 The prisoner pleaded his innocence of any evil in- 
 tention, but his protestations were of no avail. He 
 was found guilty, in defiance of justice, and hanged, 
 in defiance of mercy. 
 
 The next case, that of a poor cobbler, if not so 
 utterly unjust, was equally impolitic and still more 
 cruel. Margaret of Anjou was. at that time, using 
 every effort to regain her influence in England, and 
 many persons, supposed to possess letters from the 
 exiled queen, were tortured and put to death on 
 that suspicion. Of these the cobbler was one, and 
 one of the most severely punished. Having been 
 apprehended on the charge of aiding Margaret to 
 correspond with her partisans in England, he was 
 tortured to death with red-hot pincers. 
 
 Even when the sufferers were Lancastrians, the 
 barbarity of such proceedings could not fail to make 
 the flesh creep and the blood curdle ; but the case 
 became still more iniquitous when government laid
 
 SIR THOMAS COOKE. 205 
 
 hands on men attached to the house of York; when 
 the Woodvilles, who had themselves been Lancas- 
 trians, singled out as victims stanch partisans of 
 the White Rose. 
 
 Sir Thomas Cooke was one of the most reputable 
 citizens of London, and, in the second year of Ed- 
 ward's reign, had fulfilled the highest municipal 
 functions. Unfortunately for him, also, he had the 
 reputation of being so wealthy as to tempt plunder. 
 Earl Rivers and the Duchess of Bedford appear to 
 have thought so ; and exerted their influence with 
 the king to have the ex-mayor arrested on a charge 
 of treason, and committed to the Tower. 
 
 It appears that, in an evil hour for Cooke, a man 
 named Hawkins had called on him and requested 
 the loan of a thousand marks, on good security ; 
 but Sir Thomas said he should, in the first place, 
 like to know for whom the money was, and, in the 
 second, for what purpose it was intended. Hawk- 
 ins frankly stated it was for the use of Queen Mar- 
 garet ; and Cooke thereupon declined to lend a 
 penny. Hawkins went away, and the matter rest- 
 ed for some time. Sir Thomas was not, however, 
 destined to escape ; for Hawkins, having been taken 
 to the Tower and put to the brake, called " the Duke 
 of Exeter's daughter," confessed so much in regard 
 to himself that he was put to death ; and at the 
 same time, under the influence of excessive pain,
 
 206 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 stated that Cooke had lent the money to Margaret 
 of Anjou. 
 
 The Woodvilles, having obtained such evidence 
 against their destined victim, seized upon Cooke's 
 house in London, ejecting his lady and servants, 
 and, at the same time, took possession of Giddy 
 Hall, his seat in Essex, where he had fish-ponds, 
 and a park full of deer, and household furniture of 
 great value. After thus appropriating the estate 
 of the city knight, they determined that, for form's 
 sake, he should have a trial; and accordingly a 
 commission, of which Earl Rivers was a member, 
 was appointed to sit at Guildhall. It would seem 
 that the Woodvilles, meanwhile, had no apprehen- 
 sion of the result being unfavorable to their inter- 
 ests ; but, unfortunately for their scheme of appro- 
 priation, the commission included two men who 
 loved justice and hated iniquity. These were Rich- 
 ard Neville, Earl of Warwick, and Sir John Mark- 
 ham, Chief Justice of England. 
 
 Markham was of a family of lawyers, whose pro- 
 genitors, though scarcely wealthier than yeomen, had 
 held their land from time immemorial, and been en- 
 titled to carry coat armor. Having been eai'ly call- 
 ed to the bar, and successful in his profession, he 
 became a puisne judge of the court of king's bench ; 
 and having strongly supported the claims of the 
 house of York, and greatly contributed, by his abil-
 
 MARKHAM AND THE WOODVILLES. 207 
 
 ities and learning, to the triumph of the White 
 Rose, he succeeded Fortescue as chief justice. But, 
 though zealous for the hereditary right of the house 
 of York, Markham was neither a minion nor a tool 
 of its members ; and, though he could not but be 
 aware what the court expected, he was incapable of 
 doing any thing to forfeit the public respect which 
 he enjoyed as " The Upright Judge." When, there- 
 fore, the evidence against Cooke had been taken, 
 and the whole case heard, the chief justice ruled 
 that the offense was not treason, but, at the most, 
 " Misprision of Treason," and directed the jury so 
 to find it. 
 
 The lands of Sir Thomas Cooke were saved, and 
 the Woodvilles, angry as wild beasts deprived of 
 their prey, vowed vengeance on the chief justice. 
 Accordingly Earl Rivers and his duchess pressed 
 Edward to dismiss the unaccommodating function- 
 ary ; and Edward swore that Markham should never 
 sit on the bench again. Markham, submitting with 
 a dignity becoming his high character, carried his in- 
 tegrity into retirement ; and Sir Thomas Cooke was 
 set free after he had paid an enormous fine. 
 
 Every man of intelligence must now have seen 
 that the Woodvilles would embroil Edward with 
 the nation. While the king was, under their influ- 
 ence, perpetrating such enormities as caused grave 
 discontent, he was aroused to a sense of insecurity
 
 208 THE WARS OF THE ROSF.S 
 
 by formidable commotions in the north. For the 
 origin of these, the master and brethren of the Hos- 
 pital of St. Leonards appear to have been responsi- 
 ble. The right of levying a thrave of corn from 
 every plow in the country for the relief of the 
 poor had, it seems, been granted to the hospital by 
 one of the Anglo-Saxon kings ; but the rural popu- 
 lation complained that the revenue was not expend- 
 ed for charitable purposes, but employed by the mas- 
 ter and brethren for their private advantage. After 
 long complaining, the people of the country refused 
 to pay, and, in retaliation, their goods were dis- 
 trained and their persons imprisoned. At length, 
 in 1469, finding they could get no redress, the rec- 
 usants took up arms, and, under a captain named 
 Robert Hulderne, they put the officers of the hos- 
 pital to the sword, and, to the number of fifteen 
 thousand, marched, in hostile array, to the gates of 
 York. 
 
 The insurgents, however, were not to have it all 
 their own way. Lord Montagu commanded in the 
 district ; and he prepared to put down the rising 
 with that vigor and energy which had hitherto 
 characterized his military operations. According- 
 ly, he hastened to bring them to an engagement. 
 A skirmish took place ; the insurgents were scatter- 
 ed ; and Hulderne, their leader, having been taken, 
 was sent by Montagu to immediate execution. Nev-
 
 A NORTHERN INSURRECTION. 2U9 
 
 ertheless, the insurgents continued in arms ; and, 
 having been joined by Lord Fitzhugh and Sir Hen- 
 ry Neville, the son of Lord Latimer, one a nephew, 
 the other a cousin of Warwick, they placed Sir 
 John Conyer?, a soldier of courage and experience, 
 at their head, advanced toward London, denouncing 
 the Woodvilles as taxers and oppressors, and loudly 
 demanding their dismissal from the council. 
 
 Edward now roused himself from voluptuous 
 lethargy, and prepared to defend his crown. With- 
 out delay, he gave commissions to William Her- 
 bert, whom he had created Earl of Pembroke, and 
 Humphrey Stafford, to whom, on the execution of 
 Hugh, Earl of Devon, at Salisbury, he had given 
 the heritage of the Courtenays, to march against the 
 rebels. At the same time, Edward buckled on his 
 armor, and advanced to Newark. There, however, 
 he thought it prudent to halt ; and, finding his army 
 utterly weak and unsteady, he retreated to Notting- 
 ham. Hitherto he had thought England none the 
 worse for Warwick's absence ; but now he dispatch- 
 ed a message to Calais, beseeching the earl and 
 Clarence to come to his assistance. Having thus 
 bent his pride, Edward waited the result with anx- 
 iety. 
 
 Meanwhile, Herbert and Stafford were in the field. 
 Hastily assembling seven thousand men, most of 
 whom were Welsh, the two Yorkist earls moved 
 O
 
 210 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 against the insurgents; but they had hardly done 
 so, when an unfortunate dispute involved them in 
 serious disasters. 
 
 It was at Banbury, when the royal army ap- 
 proached the insurgents, that the quarrel took place. 
 It appears that the Yorkist earls had agreed, in the 
 course of their expedition, that when either took 
 possession of a lodging, he should be allowed to keep 
 it undisturbed. On reaching Banbury, on the 25th 
 of July, Stafford took up his quarters at an inn, 
 where there w r as a damsel for whom he had a par- 
 tiality. Herbert, who was so proud of the king's 
 letter that he could hardly contain his joy,* insisted 
 upon putting Stafford out of the hostelry ; and Staf- 
 ford, whose spirit was high, took offense at being so 
 treated by an inferior. Angry words passed, and 
 the consequence was that Stafford mounted his horse, 
 and rode from the town, with his men-at-arms and 
 archers. Herbert, alarmed at being left alone, hast- 
 ened to the hill on which his soldiers were encamp- 
 ed, and expressed his intention of abiding such for- 
 tune as GOD should send. 
 
 * " Herbert was not a little joyous of the king's letter, 
 partly to deserve the king's liberality, which, of a mean gen- 
 tleman, had promoted him to the estate of an earl, partly for 
 the malice that he bare to the Earl of Warwick, being the 
 sole obstacle (as he thought) why he obtained not the ward- 
 ship of the Lord Bonville's daughter and heir for his eldest 
 son." Grafloii's Chronicle.
 
 BATTLE OF BANBURY. 211 
 
 "When evening advanced, Sir Henry Neville, at 
 the head of his light-horse, commenced skirmishing 
 with the Welsh, and, advancing too far, he was sur- 
 rounded and slain. The northern men, thereupon, 
 vowed vengeance ; and next morning, at Edgecote, 
 attacked the royal army with fury. Herbert, on 
 the occasion, bore himself with a courage which 
 well-nigh justified the king's favor ; and his brother, 
 Richard, twice, by main force, hewed his way through 
 the insurgent ranks. Animated by the example of 
 their leaders, the Welshmen were on the point of 
 victory, when an esquire, named John Clapham, at- 
 tended by five hundred men, and bearing a white 
 bear, the banner of the king-maker, came up the hill, 
 shouting " A Warwick ! A Warwick !" Hear- 
 ing this war-cry, so terrible, and believing that " The 
 Stout Earl" was upon them, the Welshmen fled in 
 such terror and confusion that the northern men 
 slaughtered five thousand of them. Herbert and 
 his brother Richard, having been taken, were car- 
 ried to Banbury, and there beheaded, in revenge for 
 the death of Sir Henry Neville. Elate with their 
 victory at Banbury, the insurgents resolved upon 
 giving a lesson to the " queen's kindred ;" and, 
 choosing for their captain Robert Hilyard, whom 
 men called " Robin of Redesdale," they marched to 
 the Manor of Grafton, seized on Earl Rivers and 
 John Woodville, who had wedded the old Duchess
 
 212 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 of Norfolk, carried these obnoxious individuals to 
 Nottingham, and there beheaded them as taxers and 
 oppressors. 
 
 The king, on hearing of the defeat of Herbert and 
 the execution of the Woodvilles, expressed the ut- 
 most resentment. Displeased with himself and ev- 
 ery body else, he looked around for a victim on 
 whom to wreak his fury ; and, considering that of 
 all connected with these misfortunes Stafford was 
 the least blameless, he issued orders that the unfor- 
 tunate nobleman should be seized, and dealt with as 
 a traitor. The royal commands were obeyed. Staf- 
 ford was taken at a village in Brentinarsh, carried 
 to Bridge water, and executed. 
 
 The aspect of affairs gradually became more 
 threatening. At length Warwick arrived in En- 
 gland, and repaired to the king, who was encamped 
 at Olncy. lie found Edward in no enviable plight. 
 His friends were killed or scattered, and his ene- 
 mies close upon him. The earl was just the man 
 for such a crisis, and he consented to exercise his 
 influence. He went to the insurgents, promised to 
 see their grievances redressed, spoke to them in that 
 popular strain which he alone could use; and, at 
 his bidding, they dispersed and went northward. 
 Edward, however, found that he was hardly more 
 free than when the forces of Robin of Redesdale 
 hemmed him in. The earl, in fact, took the king
 
 WARWICK AND THE KING 213 
 
 into his own hands till he should redeem his prom- 
 ise to the insurgents, and conveyed him, as a kind 
 of prisoner, to the Castle of Middleham. 
 
 Edward had no intention of granting the popular 
 demands ; and he was not the man to submit pa- 
 tiently to durance. He gained the hearts of his 
 keepers, and obtained liberty to go a-hunting. This 
 privilege he turned to account ; and having one day 
 been met by Sir William Stanley, Sir Thomas 
 Brough, and others of his friends, he rode with them 
 to York, pursued his way to Lancaster, and, having 
 there been met by Lord Hastings, reached London 
 in safety. 
 
 A peace between Warwick and the king was 
 brought about by their friends ; and Edward's eld- 
 est daughter was betrothed to Montagu's son. But 
 a few weeks after this reconciliation, the earl took 
 mortal offense. The cause is involved in some mys- 
 tery. It appears, however, that Edward had two 
 failings in common with many men both small and 
 great a weakness for wine and a weakness for 
 women. He was much too fond of deep drinking, 
 and by no means free from the indiscretions of those 
 who indulge to excess in the social cup. On some 
 occasion, it would seem, the king was guilty of a 
 flagrant impropriety which touched the honor and 
 roused the resentment of the earl. Even at this 
 day the exact circumstances are unknown ; but, in
 
 214 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the fifteenth century, rumor was not silent on the 
 subject. Hall has indicated, in language somewhat 
 too plain for this generation, that the offense was an 
 insult offered by the king, in Warwick's house, to 
 the niece or daughter of the earl ; and adds, that 
 " the certainty was not for both their honors openly 
 known." But, however that may have been, the 
 strife between the king and the king-maker now as- 
 sumed the character of mortal enmity, and led rap- 
 idly to those events which rendered the year 1470 
 memorable in the annals of England. 
 
 Edward was not long left in doubt as to the earl's 
 views. At the Moor, in Hertfordshire, which then 
 belonged to the Archbishop of York, which passed 
 fifteen years later to John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, 
 and which, in later days, became the scat of Anne 
 Scott, heiress of Buccleuch and widow of the ill-fated 
 Monmouth, George Neville, one day in the month of 
 February, gave a banquet to the king. On the oc- 
 casion Warwick and Clarence were invited ; and all 
 was going on well, and Edward was washing his 
 hands before sitting down to supper, when one of his 
 attendants whispered that armed men were lurking 
 near the house to seize him. The king started, but, 
 recovering himself sufficiently to betray no signs of 
 alarm, he got secretly out of the house, mounted his 
 horse, and, riding all night, reached Windsor Castle 
 in safety.
 
 INSURRECTION IN LINCOLNSHIRE. 215 
 
 Edward was not quite prepared to punish this at- 
 tempt on his liberty. He, therefore, listened to the 
 mediation of the Duchess of York ; and that lady 
 was laboring to effect another reconciliation, when 
 an insurrection took place among the people of Lin- 
 colnshire. These complained bitterly of the oppres- 
 sion of the royal purveyors ; and they were headed 
 by Sir Robert Welles, the heir of a family remarka- 
 ble for fidelity to the house of Lancaster. 
 
 Warwick was suspected to be the author of this 
 disturbance. Nevertheless, the king found it neces- 
 sary to treat the earl and Clarence as if he enter- 
 tained no suspicion. He even intrusted them with 
 the command of forces destined to suppress the in- 
 surgents, while he prepared to march against them 
 with a numerous army. 
 
 Meanwhile, the king sent for Lord Welles, father 
 of Sir Robert, and, at the royal summons, that no- 
 bleman came to Westminster, in company with Sir 
 Thomas Dymoke, who had married his daughter. 
 Being informed, however, that the king was much 
 incensed, the Lancastrian lord and his son-in-law- 
 deemed it prudent to repair to the sanctuary. Ed- 
 ward, however, plighted his word as a prince, that 
 he intended no harm, and they, fully relying on a 
 pledge so sacred, came to his presence. Edward, 
 thereupon, commanded Lord Welles to write to his 
 son to desist from his enterprise ; but Sir Robert
 
 816 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 continuing firm in spite of the paternal admonition, 
 Edward caused both the old lord and his son-in-law 
 to be executed. 
 
 After this faithless proceeding Edward left Lon- 
 don. Marching against the insurgents, he came up 
 with them on the 13th of March, at Erpingham, in 
 the county of Rutland. The royal army was so 
 superior in number that Sir Robert had scarcely u 
 chance of victory. Exasperated, however, by the 
 execution of his father, the brave knight, setting 
 prudence at defiance, was eager for an encounter. 
 The armies joined battle, and it soon appeared that 
 Sir Robert had reckoned without his host. The 
 conflict was utterly unequal ; and, the insurgents 
 having been worsted, their leader was taken pris- 
 oner. No sooner was Welles in the hands of the 
 enemy than the Lincolnshire men whom he had 
 commanded became a mob, and fled from the field, 
 having previously thrown off their coats, that their 
 running might not be impeded. From this circum- 
 stance the battle was popularly spoken of as "Lose- 
 cote Field." 
 
 The tables were now turned. The king was in 
 fi condition to defy Warwick, while the king-maker 
 had no means of raising such a force as could, with 
 any chance of success, encounter the royal army 
 flushed with victory. The earl, however, made one 
 effort. Being at his Castle of Warwick, and hear-
 
 WARWICK AND STANLEY. 217 
 
 ing of Edward's victory at Erpingham, he endeavor- 
 ed to draw Lord Stanley, his brother-in-law, to his 
 side. Stanley, however, was far too prudent a man 
 to rush into danger even for his great kinsman's 
 sake. He answered that " he would never make 
 war against King Edward ;" and Warwick and 
 Clarence were compelled to turn toward Dart- 
 mouth.
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 
 THE SIEGE OF EXETER. 
 
 ON the summit of the hill that rises steeply from 
 the left bank of the River Exe, and is crowned with 
 the capital of Devon, some of the burghers of Exeter 
 might have been met with, one spring day in 1470, 
 gossiping about the king and Lord Warwick, and 
 making observations on several hundreds of armed 
 men, who, not Avithout lance, and plume, and pen- 
 non, were escorting a youthful dame, of patrician 
 aspect and stately bearing, toward the city gates. 
 The mayor and aldermen "were, probably, the re- 
 verse of delighted with the appearance of these 
 fighting men. Indeed, the warlike strangers were 
 adherents of Warwick and Clarence, escorting the 
 young duchess who was daughter of one and wife 
 of the other ; and at that time, as was well known, 
 both " The Stout Earl" and the fickle duke were at 
 enmity with King Edwai'd. The citizens of Exeter, 
 however, made a virtue of necessity, and cheerfully 
 enough admitted within their walls those whom they 
 had not the power to exclude. 
 
 At that time Isabel, Duchess of Clarence, was 
 about to become, under mortifying circumstances,
 
 EXETER BESIEGED. 219 
 
 the mother of a son " born to perpetual calamity ;" 
 but, however delicate her situation, Lord Warwick's 
 daughter, reared in the midst of civil strife, was 
 probably less troubled than might be imagined 
 with uneasiness as to the present or apprehension 
 as to the future, as, with all honors due to her rank, 
 she was conducted to the palace of the Bishop of 
 Exeter. 
 
 The Duchess of Clarence soon had need of her 
 hereditary courage ; for she had scarcely been lodged 
 in the bishop's palace, and the lords who attended 
 her in the houses of the canons, when Sir Hugh 
 Courtenay, sheriff of Devon, took the opportunity 
 of displaying his zeal in the king's service, raised an 
 army in the vicinity, and marched toward Exeter to 
 the assault of the city. Perceiving, however, that 
 its reduction must be the work of time, the sheriff 
 encamped his men around the walls, barricaded the 
 roads, stopped every avenue by which provisions 
 could have reached the garrison, and appeared pre- 
 pared to proceed deliberately with the siege. Hav- 
 ing taken these measures, Courtenay sent a messen- 
 ger to the mayor, demanding that the gates should 
 be opened forthwith. 
 
 The mayor and the other municipal functionaries 
 were by no means willing to incur the wrath of Ed- 
 ward of York. On the contrary, they were much 
 inclined to entitle themselves to his favor by com-
 
 220 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 plying with the sheriff's demand. But Warwick's 
 friends were on their guard. Suspecting that the 
 mayor might prove untrue, and resolved to have 
 their fate in their own hands, the lords and gentle- 
 men insisted on the keys of the city being placed in 
 their possession ; and, the mayor yielding on this 
 point, they appointed the watch, manned the walls, 
 repaired the gates, and took the entire management 
 of the defense. Finding themselves in a somewhat 
 delicate predicament, and not free from danger, the 
 mayor and aldermen resolved to speak both parties 
 fair, and do nothing till one side or other proved 
 triumphant. 
 
 At first Warwick's red-jackets made so brave a 
 defense that Courtenay could not boast of any prog- 
 ress. Ere long, however, they had to contend with 
 a more formidable foe than the knightly sheriff. 
 After the siege had lasted some days, provisions fell 
 short; famine was apprehended; and the inhabit- 
 ants became inconveniently impatient. The War- 
 wickers, however, were utterly disinclined to yield. 
 Indeed, with the fate of Lord Welles and Sir Thom- 
 as Dymoke before their eyes, they might well hesi- 
 tate to trust to Edward's tender mercies. They, 
 therefore, determined to endure all privations rather 
 than submit, and declared their intention to hold out 
 till GOD sent them deliverance. This resolution 
 might have been difficult to maintain ; but, after the
 
 WARWICK RETIRES TO CALAIS. 221 
 
 siege had lasted for twelve days, they were relieved 
 by the arrival of Warwick and Clarence. 
 
 The earl did not arrive at Exeter with laurels on 
 his brow. At Erpingham, Edward had already en- 
 countered the insurgents under Sir Robert Welles ; 
 and, having made the northern men fly before his 
 lance, he had proclaimed Warwick and Clarence 
 traitors, and offered a reward for their apprehen- 
 sion. Disappointed of Lord Stanley's alliance, and 
 of aid from Sir John Conyers, the earl and the duke 
 joined their friends in haste and alarm. Resistance 
 was simply out of the question, for the king was at 
 the head of an army of forty thousand men ; and 
 the king-maker had merely the yeomanry of the 
 county of Warwick. The earl's game was clearly 
 up for the present ; and his only chance of safety 
 appeared to lie in a retreat to the Continent, He, 
 therefore, caused ships to be immediately fitted out 
 at Dartmouth ; and, going to that port, after a three 
 days' stay in Exeter, he sailed for Calais, of which 
 he still continued captain. 
 
 Meanwhile, the king, flushed with his victory over 
 the Lincolnshire men, learned that Warwick had 
 gone toward Exeter. Thither, at the head of his 
 army, marched Edward, accompanied by a band of 
 nobles, among whom were the Dukes of Norfolk and 
 Suffolk, the Earls of Arundel and Rivers, and the 
 Lords Stanley and Hastings. The citizens, uncom-
 
 222 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 fortable, no doubt, at having harbored the enemies 
 of a prince so potent, resolved upon doing all in their 
 power to entitle themselves to his favor. On hear- 
 ing of the approach of the royal army, the mayor 
 issued orders that every inhabitant having the 
 means should provide himself with a gown of the 
 city's livery, and hold himself in readiness to give 
 the king a loyal reception. 
 
 At length, on the 14th of April, Edward's ban- 
 ners appeared in sight ; and the mayor, attended 
 by the recorder and four hundred of the citizens, 
 clad in scarlet, issued forth from the gates to bid 
 the king welcome. The scene was such as had gen- 
 erally been witnessed on such occasions. The mayor 
 made a humble obeisance; the recorder delivered 
 an oration, congratulating Edward on coming to 
 Exeter. This ceremony over, the mayor pro.-ontcd 
 the king with the keys of the city and a purse con- 
 taining a hundred nobles in gold. Edward return- 
 ed the keys ; but " the gold," says the historian, 
 "he took very thankfully." 
 
 Having thus propitiated the conqueror, the mayor 
 of Exeter, his head uncovered, and bearing the mace 
 of the city in his hands, conducted the king through 
 the gate and toward the house which he was to 
 occupy. After remaining a few days in Exeter, 
 Edward returned to London, congratulating him- 
 self on having put under his feet so many of his en-
 
 TRIUMPH OF THE KING. 223 
 
 emies, and out of the kingdom the great noble to 
 whom he owed his crown. He seemed to think the 
 whole quarrel between the people of England and 
 the family of Woodville decided in favor of his wife's 
 kindred by the flight of the Lancastrians from Er- 
 pingham and the earl's retreat from Exeter.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 LOUIS THE CRAFTY. 
 
 WHEN Warwick sailed from Dartmouth as a mor- 
 tal foe of the man whom, ten years earlier, he had 
 seated on the throne of the Plantagenets, the excite- 
 ment created by the event was not confined to En- 
 gland. So grand was the earl's fame, so high his 
 character, so ardent his patriotism, and so great the 
 influence he had exercised over that nation of which 
 he was the pride, that Continental princes listened to 
 the news of his breaking with Edward as they would 
 have done to that of an empire in convulsions. The 
 circumstances of the King of France and the Duke 
 of Burgundy especially were such that they could 
 not have remained indifferent to what was passing ; 
 and lively, indeed, was the interest which Charles 
 the Rash and Louis the Crafty exhibited on the oc- 
 casion. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott has rendered Louis, with his pe^ 
 culiarities of mind, manner, and dress, familiar to 
 the readers of "Quentin Durward." At the men- 
 tion of his name there rises before the mind's eye a 
 man of mean figure, with pinched features, a thread- 
 bare jerkin, and low fur cap, ornamented with pal-
 
 LOUIS OF FRANCE. 225 
 
 try leaden images now indulging in ribald talk, 
 now practicing the lowest hypocrisy, and no\r tak- 
 ing refuge in the grossest superstition. Our concern 
 with him at present, however, is only so far as his 
 career is associated with the Wars of the Hoses. 
 
 Louis was the son of the seventh Charles of 
 France, and of his queen, Mary of Anjou, a princess 
 of worth and virtue, but not tenderly beloved by her 
 husband, whose heart was devoted to his mistress, 
 Agnes Sorrel, the handsomest woman of that age. 
 Born at the commencement of those operations which 
 resulted in the expulsion of the English from France, 
 Louis had just reached the age of sixteen in 1440, 
 when, to get rid of his tutor, the Count de Perdriac, 
 he stole from the Castle of Loches, and conspired 
 against his father's government. The conspiracy 
 came to naught, and Louis was pardoned ; but, a 
 few years later, he incurred the suspicion of having 
 poisoned Agnes Sorrel, and, flying from his father's 
 court, sought refuge in Dauphiny. 
 
 Enraged at the death of his mistress and the con- 
 duct of his son, the king, in 1446, sent a band of 
 armed men to arrest the heir of France ; and placed 
 at their head the Count of Dammartin. Louis, 
 however, received timely warning, and projected an 
 escape. "With this view, he appointed a grand hunt- 
 ing-match, ordered his dinner to be prepared at the 
 particular rendezvous, and took care that the count 
 P
 
 226 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 was informed of the circumstance. Completely de- 
 ceived, Damniartin placed troops in ambush, and 
 made certain of a capture ; but Louis valued life 
 and liberty too much to allow himself to be caught. 
 Instead of going to the hunt, he mounted a fleet 
 steed, and, riding to the territories of the Duke of 
 Burgundy, was courteously received and entertained 
 by that magnate. 
 
 On hearing that Burgundy had treated the dau- 
 phin so handsomely, King Charles protested, and 
 warned the duke against heaping benefits on a man 
 of so depraved a disposition. " You know not, Duke 
 Philip," said the king," " the nature of this savage 
 animal. You cherish a wolf, who will one day tear 
 your sheep to pieces. Kemember the fable of the 
 countryman, who, in compassion to a viper which 
 he found half frozen in the field, brought it to his 
 house, and warmed it by the fireside, till it turned 
 round and hissed at its preserver." The good duke, 
 however, continued to protect Louis, granted him 
 a pension to maintain his state, and gave him the 
 choice of a residence. Louis selected the Castle of 
 Gennape, in Brabant ; and, during his residence 
 there, formed a close intimacy with the duke's son, 
 the Count of Charolois, afterward celebrated as 
 Charles the Rash. 
 
 The heir of Burgundy was some years younger 
 than the dauphin, and in character presented a re-
 
 LOUIS BECOMES KING. 227 
 
 markable contrast with the exiled prince, being vi- 
 olent, ungovernable, and, in all cases, ruled by his 
 anger and pride. Round this incarnation of feudal- 
 ism Louis had the art to wind himself, as the ivy 
 does around the oak it is destined to destroy. They 
 feasted together, hawked together, hunted together, 
 and, in fact, were bosom friends ; and when, in 1456, 
 Isabel de Bourbon, the first wife of Charles, gave 
 birth to a daughter, at Brussels, it was Louis who 
 figured as sponsor at the baptism of the infant 
 princess ; and it was Louis who gave Mary of Bur- 
 gundy her Christian name, in honor of his mother, 
 Mary of Anjou. 
 
 When the dauphin had for years enjoyed the 
 Duke of Burgundy's hospitality, Charles the Sev- 
 enth died ; and, shortly after the battle of Towton, 
 the exiled prince, at the age of thirty-eight, succeed- 
 ed to the crown of St. Louis. Hardly, however, had 
 the dauphin become king, when he forgot all his 
 obligations to the house which had sheltered him in 
 adversity. Eager to weaken the influence of the 
 two great feudatories of France, he sought to create 
 hostility between the Duke of Brittany and the 
 Count of Charolois. With this object he granted 
 each of them the government of Normandy, in hopes 
 of their contesting it, and destroying each other. 
 Discovering the deception, however, they united 
 against the deceiver, rallied around them the mal-
 
 228 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 contents of France, and placed at their head the 
 king's brother. Charles de Valois, who claimed Nor- 
 mandy as his appanage. 
 
 A formidable alliance, called "The League for 
 the Public Good," having been formed, Charolois, 
 attended by the Count of St. Pol, and the Bastard 
 of Burgundy, who afterward tilted at Smithfield 
 with Anthony Woodville, led his forces into France 
 in hostile array. Louis, though taken by surprise, 
 girded himself up for a conflict, and, on the 16th of 
 July, 1405, met his foes at Montlhery. A fierce 
 battle followed ; and the king fought with courage. 
 The day, however, went against France ; and Louis 
 was forced to leave the field, with the loss of some 
 hundreds of his men and several of his captains, 
 among whom was one who, in the Wars of the 
 Ptoses, had spent a fortune, and enacted a strange 
 and romantic part. For among the slain at Mon- 
 tlhery, was Sir Peter de Breze, celebrated for his 
 chivalrous admiration of Margaret of Anjou, who, 
 at the tournament given in France in honor of her 
 nuptials, had distinguished himself by feats of arms, 
 and who, when years of sorrow had passed over her 
 head, came to England to prove his devotion by 
 fighting for her husband's crown. 
 
 When Louis was under the necessity of abandon- 
 ing the field at Montlhery to the heir of Burgundy, 
 Normandy revolted to the insurgent princes ; and
 
 LOUIS AND CHARLES THE RASH. 229 
 
 the king, finding himself the weaker party, had re- 
 course to dissimulation. He expressed his readiness 
 to negotiate, pretended to forget his resentment, sur- 
 rendered Normandy to his brother, satisfied the de- 
 mands of the Count of Charolois, and named the 
 Count of St. Pol Constable of France. But this 
 treaty negotiated at Conflans having, at the king's 
 desire, been annulled by the States-General, Louis 
 avenged himself by depriving Charles de Valois of 
 Normandy, and stirring up the rich cities of Flan- 
 ders to revolt against Charolois, now, by his father's 
 death, Duke of Burgundy, and, by his second mar- 
 riage, brother-in-law to Edward of York. 
 
 At the time when Louis was inciting the Flemings 
 to revolt against their sovereign, and when he had 
 an emissary in Liege for that purpose, he endeavored 
 to avert suspicion from himself by paying a visit to 
 Charles the Rash, at Peronne. This piece of diplo- 
 macy well-nigh cost his life. Scarcely had the king 
 arrived at Peronne ere intelh'gence followed of the 
 revolt at Liege ; and Burgundy was exasperated 
 in the highest degree to learn that the populace 
 had proceeded to horrible excesses, massacred the 
 canons, and murdered the bishop, Louis de Bour- 
 bon, his own relative. But when, in addition to 
 all this, Burgundy heard that the king was the 
 author of the sedition, his rage knew no bounds. 
 He immediately committed Louis to prison, men-
 
 230 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 need the captive with death, and appeared determ- 
 ined to execute his threat. Louis, however, be- 
 came aware of his peril, and submitted to all that 
 was demanded. To extricate himself from danger 
 he signed the treaty of Peronne, divesting himself 
 of all sovereignty over Burgundy, giving his brother 
 Champagne and Brie, and finally engaging to march 
 in person against the insurgents of Lie'ge. 
 
 The treaty of Peronne restored Louis to liberty, 
 but not till he had played a part that must have 
 tried even his seared conscience. He was under 
 the necessity of accompanying Burgundy to Liege, 
 witnessing the destruction of the unfortunate city, 
 beholding a general massacre of the men whom 
 he had incited to revolt, and even congratulating 
 Charles the Rash on having executed vengeance. 
 All this time, however, Louis had no intention of 
 maintaining the treaty of Peronne. Indeed, he only 
 awaited a favorable opportunity of breaking faith ; 
 but he deemed it policy to proceed cautiously, for 
 the alliance of Burgundy with Edward of York ren- 
 dered the duke formidable in his eyes. 
 
 At the opening of his reign Louis, notwithstand- 
 ing his relationship to Margaret of Anjou, had shown 
 a disinclination to make sacrifices for the house of 
 Lancaster ; while Charles the Kash, as a descendant 
 of John of Gaunt, had expressed much sympathy 
 with the party whose badge was the Red Rose.
 
 LOUIS AND WARWICK. 231 
 
 Even kings, however, are the creatures of circum- 
 stances ; and the disposal which Edward, in his wis- 
 dom, made of the hand of Margaret of York ren- 
 dered Burgundy favorable to the White Rose, while 
 it induced Louis, from selfish motives, to exhibit 
 more friendship for the adherents of Lancaster. 
 
 Louis had not a particle of chivalry in his com- 
 position, and would have ridiculed the notion of un- 
 dertaking any thing for the advantage of others. 
 He was keenly alive to his own interest, however, 
 and deemed it politic to give the enemies of Edward 
 some degree of encouragement. To make them for- 
 midable enough to keep the Yorkist king at home 
 was the object of his policy, for of all calamities 
 Louis most dreaded an English invasion. When 
 Warwick broke with Edward, he was not only freed 
 from fear, but animated by hope ; for in the earl's 
 destiny he had perfect faith ; and the earl was known 
 to entertain an antipathy to Burgundy, and a strong 
 opinion that peace with France was essential to En- 
 gland's welfare.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "THE STOUT EARL" AND "THE FOREIGN WOMAN." 
 
 IT was the spring of 1470 when Warwick left 
 the shores of England, accompanied by the Duke of 
 Clarence, by the Countess of Warwick, and by her 
 two daughters. The king-maker sailed toward 
 Calais, of which, since 1455, he had been captain- 
 general. At Calais Warwick expected welcome 
 and safety. Such, indeed, had been his influence in 
 the city in former days that his dismissal by the 
 Lancastrian king had proved an idle ceremony ; and, 
 moreover, he relied with confidence on the fidelity 
 of Lord Vauclerc, a Gascon, whom, years before, he 
 had left as his deputy in the government. 
 
 Warwick was doomed to disappointment. News 
 of the earl's rupture with the king had preceded him 
 to Calais ; and, as his ships approached the city of 
 refuge, Vauclerc, far from according to his patron 
 the anticipated welcome, ordered the artillery of the 
 fort to be pointed against the fleet. This was not 
 the worst. While the exiles, somewhat perplexed, 
 lay before Calais, the Duchess of Clarence became 
 a mother ; and the earl appealed to the governor's 
 humanity to admit her into the city. But Vauclerc
 
 WARWICK AND VAUCLERC. 233 
 
 resolutely refused to countenance Edward's ene- 
 mies, and the Gascon was with no slight difficulty 
 persuaded to send on board two flagons of wine. 
 Even the privilege of baptism in the city, which 
 stood as a monument of the Continental triumphs 
 of the Plantagenets, was refused to the infant des- 
 tined to be the last male heir of that illustrious 
 race. 
 
 Vauclerc, however, gave the earl information by 
 no means valueless, in the shape of a warning that 
 on putting to sea he must beware where he landed, 
 as the myrmidons of Burgundy were on the watch 
 to seize him. At the same time, he took occasion 
 secretly to send an apology to Warwick, and to 
 represent his conduct as being entirely guided by 
 zeal for the earl's safety. " Calais," said he, " is 
 ill-supplied with provisions ; the garrison can not 
 be depended on ; the inhabitants, who live by the 
 English commerce, will certainly take part with the 
 established government ; and the city is in no con- 
 dition to resist England on one side and Burgundy 
 on the other. It is better, therefore, that I should 
 seem to declare for Edward, and keep the fortress 
 in my power till it is safe to deliver it to you." 
 Warwick was not, probably, in a very credulous 
 mood ; but he took Vauclerc's explanation for what 
 it was worth, ordered the anchors to be hauled up, 
 and, having defied Burgundy's enmity by seizing
 
 234 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 some Flemish ships that lay off Calais, sailed to- 
 ward the coast of Normandy. 
 
 King Edward, on hearing of Vauclerc's refusal to 
 admit Warwick, expressed himself highly pleased 
 with the deputy-governor, and manifested his ap- 
 proval by sending the Gascon a patent as Captain- 
 general of Calais. Burgundy, not to be behind his 
 brother-in-law, dispatched Philip de Comines to an- 
 nounce to Vauclerc that he should have a pension 
 of a thousand crowns for life, and to keep him true 
 to his principles. Vauclerc must have laughed in 
 his sleeve at all this. "Never man," says Sir 
 Richard Baker, " was better paid for one act of 
 dissembling." 
 
 Meanwhile, Warwick landed at Harfleur, where 
 his reception was all that could have been wished. 
 The governor welcomed the exiles with every token 
 of respect, escorted the ladies to Valognes, and hast- 
 ened to communicate Warwick's arrival to the king. 
 Louis exhibited the most unbounded confidence in 
 the earl's fortunes. Indeed, so confident in the 
 king-maker's alliance was the crafty monarch, that 
 he prepared to brave the united enmity of Edward 
 of England and Charles of Burgundy. Without 
 delay he invited the great exile to court ; and, as 
 Warwick and Clarence whom Warwick then in- 
 tended to place on the English throne rode toward 
 Amboise, their journey excited the utmost curiosity.
 
 WARWICK IN EXILE. 235 
 
 Every where the inhabitants were eager to see "The 
 Stout Earl ;" and Jacques Bonnehomme came from 
 his cabin to gaze on the man who made and unmade 
 kings, and who, unlike the nobles of France, took 
 pride in befriending the people in peace and sparing 
 them in war. 
 
 At Amboise Warwick met with a reception which 
 must have been gratifying to his pride. Louis was 
 profuse of compliments and lavish of promises. The 
 French king, however, took occasion to suggest to 
 Warwick the expediency of finding some more ade- 
 quate instrument than Clarence wherewith to work 
 out his projects ; and the English earl, bent on 
 avenging England's injuries and his own, listened 
 with patience, even when Louis proposed an alliance 
 with Lancaster. 
 
 Ere this Margaret was on the alert. When, in 
 the autumn of 1469, the exiled queen learned that 
 the house of York was divided against itself, and 
 that the king and the king-maker were mortal foes, 
 she left her retreat at Verdun, and, with her son, 
 repaired to the French king at Tours. Thither, to 
 renew tfieir adhesion to the Red Rose, came, among 
 other Lancastrians, Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, 
 who had been wandering over Europe like a vaga- 
 bond, and Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, and Ed- 
 mund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, with his brother 
 John, who, since the rout of Hexham, had been lurk-
 
 236 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ing in Flanders, concealing their names and quality, 
 and suffering all those inconveniences that arise from 
 the ill-assorted union of pride and poverty. A man 
 bearing a nobler name, and gifted with a higher in- 
 tellect than Tudors, Hollands, or Beauforts, now 
 joined the Lancastrian exiles. It was John De 
 Vere, Earl of Oxford. 
 
 At the beginning of the contentions of York and 
 Lancaster, the De Veres naturally took part against 
 the misleaders of the monk -monarch, and as late, at 
 least, as 1455, John, twelfth Earl of Oxford, was a 
 friend of the duke. Oxford, however, was not pre- 
 pared for a transfer of the crown ; and when the 
 dispute assumed the form of a dynastic war, he took 
 the losing side, and in 1461 was beheaded on Tower 
 Hill, with his eldest son, Aubrey. At the time of 
 the old earl's execution, his second son, John, was 
 twenty-three ; and, being husband of Margaret Nev- 
 ille, the sister of Warwick, he was allowed to re- 
 main undisturbed in England, to bear the title of 
 Oxford, and, without taking any part in politics, to 
 maintain feudal state at Wyvenhoe and Castle Hed- 
 lingham. Oxford, however, was " linked in the 
 closest friendship with Warwick ;" and when the 
 Yorkist king shook off the influence of " The Stout 
 Earl," England was no longer a place of safety for 
 the chief of the De Veres. In 1470 Oxford fol- 
 lowed his great brother-in-law to France, hoping,
 
 THE PRINCE OF WALES. 237 
 
 perhaps, to mediate between Warwick and the Lan- 
 castrian queen who had ever hated the earl as her 
 mightiest foe. 
 
 At this period Margaret of Anjou had seen forty 
 summers, and, doubtless, felt somewhat less strongly 
 than in earlier days the ambition which had ani- 
 mated her before Wakefield and Hexham. But the 
 Prince of Wales was now in his eighteenth year, and, 
 inspired by maternal love, she was ready, in order to 
 regain the crown for him, to brave new dangers and 
 endure fresh hardships. 
 
 Young Edward was, indeed, a prince on whom a 
 mother might well look with pride. Every thing 
 had been done to make him worthy of the throne 
 he had been born to inherit. Fortescue had in- 
 structed the royal boy in the duties necessary for 
 his enacting the part of " a patriot king ;" and, 
 while engaged in studies so grave, the prince had 
 not neglected those accomplishments essential to his 
 rank. Ere leaving Verdun he had become a hand- 
 some and interesting youth. His bearing Avas chiv- 
 alrous ; his manner graceful ; his countenance of 
 almost feminine beauty, shaded with fair hair, and 
 lighted up with a blue eye that sparkled with valor 
 and intelligence. Such, arrayed in the short purple 
 jacket trimmed with ermine, the badge of St. George 
 on his breast, and a single ostrich feather his cog- 
 nizance as Prince of Wales in his high cap, was
 
 238 THE WARS OF THE RUSES. 
 
 the heir of Lancaster, whom Margaret of Anjou 
 presented to the devoted adherent* of the Red Kose, 
 who, having lost every thing else, came to the French 
 court to place their swords at his disposal. 
 
 Louis was now in his element ; and to reconcile 
 the Yorkist earl and the Lancastrian queen, he ex- 
 erted all his powers of political intrigue. His task, 
 indeed, was not easy. Warwick had accused Mar- 
 garet of plotting against his life, and murdering his 
 father. Margaret had charged Warwick whom 
 she hated more bitterly even than she had hated the 
 Duke of York with depriving her of a crown, and 
 destroying her reputation. The earl's wish, in the 
 event of deposing Edward, still was to place Clarence 
 on the throne ; and, even since quarreling with the 
 Yorkist king, he had taken part against the Lancas- 
 trians. The queen was, on her part, utterly averse 
 to friendship with her ancient adversary. "My 
 wounds," she exclaimed, " must bleed till dooms- 
 day, when to GOD'S justice I will appeal for venge- 
 ance !" 
 
 Most men would have regarded the case as des- 
 perate. But Louis viewed it in another light. Be- 
 tween the queen and the earl, indeed, there was a 
 wide gulph, in which ran the blood of slaughtered 
 friends and kinsmen ; but one sentiment the queen 
 without a crown and the earl without an earldom 
 had in common an intense antipathy to Edward
 
 WARWICK AND THE LANCASTRIANS. 239 
 
 of York. Moreover, the Prince of Wales had, on 
 some festive occasion, seen Anne Neville, the carl's 
 daughter, and the sight had inspired him with one 
 of those romantic attachments which call into action 
 the tenderest sympathies and the noblest aspirations. 
 A fear that Margaret and Warwick would never 
 consent to a union might have daunted young Ed- 
 ward, but Louis had seen more of the world. He 
 knew that Warwick could hardly see the prince 
 without being covetous to have him as a son-in-law ; 
 and he knew that Margaret would be prompted by 
 the ambition of a queen, and the tenderness of a 
 mother, to recover by compromise the crown which 
 she had been unable to gain by force. In one im- 
 portant respect the mind of Louis was made up 
 that, on all points, he would intrigue and negotiate 
 with an eye to his own profit. 
 
 Louis had correctly calculated the effect of cir- 
 cumstances on those with whom he had to deal. 
 The earl, being flesh and blood, could not resist the 
 prospect of a throne for his daughter, and indicated 
 his readiness to make peace. Margaret was not 
 quite so reasonable ; but, at length, she yielded so 
 far as to agree to a meeting with the man whom 
 she had accused of piercing her heart with wounds 
 that could never be healed. 
 
 Accordingly, a conference was appointed ; and in 
 June, 1470, Warwick, in the Castle of Amboise, met
 
 240 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the queen, from the brow of whose husband he had 
 torn the English crown, and the prince, the illegiti- 
 macy of whose birth he had proclaimed at Paul's 
 Cross. Now, however, the earl was prepared to give 
 his hand in friendship to one, and his daughter as 
 wife to the other. He offered to restore Henry of 
 Windsor, if Margaret would consent to unite the 
 Prince of Wales to Anne Neville. Margaret, how- 
 ever, felt the sharpness of the sacrifice, and, after 
 some hesitation, asked for time to consider the pro- 
 posal. 
 
 Ere the time expired, the queen's aversion to the 
 match was strengthened. She showed Louis a let- 
 ter from England, in Avhich the hand of Edward's 
 daughter, Elizabeth, then recognized as heiress to 
 the crown, was offered to her son. " Is not that," 
 she asked, " a more profitable party ? And if it be 
 necessary to forgive, is it not more queenly to treat 
 with Edward than with a twofold rebel '"?" Louis, 
 who was bent on business, did not relish such talk 
 as this. To Margaret he became so cool, that she 
 could hardly help seeing he would have thought 
 little of throwing her interests overboard. To War- 
 wick he was all kindness, declaring that he cared 
 far more for the earl than he did either for Margaret 
 or her son, and even giving an assurance that he 
 would aid Warwick to conquer England for any one 
 he chose.
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF ANNE NEVILLE. 211 
 
 Margaret perceived that it was no time for ex- 
 hibitions of vindictive feeling ; and, with undis- 
 guised reluctance, she consented to the match. Aft- 
 er thus sacrificing her long-cherished prejudices, the 
 exiled queen proceeded to Angers, on a visit to the 
 Countess of Warwick and to Anne Neville, at that 
 time in her sixteenth year. Preparations were then 
 made for the marriage which was to cement the new 
 alliance, and, in July, the daughter of "The Stout 
 Earl" was solemnly espoused to the son of "The 
 Foreign Woman." 
 
 About this time there arrived at Calais an En- 
 glish lady of quality, who stated that she was on her 
 way to join the Duchess of Clarence. Vauclerc, 
 believing that she brought overtures of peace from 
 Edward to Warwick, and feeling a strong interest 
 in the reconciliation of the king and the earl, allow- 
 ed her to pass, and she found her way to Angers, 
 where the marriage was then being celebrated. The 
 errand of this lady was not quite so amiable as Vau- 
 clerc had supposed. On arriving at Angers, she 
 revealed herself to Clarence as having been sent by 
 his brothers to tempt him to betray Warwick to 
 implore him, at all events, not to aid in the subver- 
 sion of their father's house. 
 
 Clarence was just in the state of mind to be work- 
 ed upon by a skillful diplomatist; and the female 
 embassador executed her mission with a craft that 
 
 Q
 
 242 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Louis might have envied. The duke, so long as he 
 had simply been taking part in a feud between War- 
 wick and the Woodvilles, was all zeal for the earl, 
 and not without hope that he himself might profit 
 bj the strife ; but no sooner did the weak prince 
 find himself engaged with the adherents of the Red 
 Rose in a contest to substitute the heir of the house, 
 of Lancaster for the chief of the house of York, 
 than he began to pause and ponder. At this stage 
 the lady of quality appeared at Angers, and man- 
 aged her part of the business with the requisite dex- 
 terity ; in fact, Clarence declared that he was not 
 so great an enemy to his brother as was supposed, 
 and he promised, significantly, to prove that such 
 was the case when he reached England. The lady 
 departed from Angers, and returned to Edward's 
 court with a full assurance that her mission would 
 produce important results. 
 
 The bridal of the prince and Anne Neville hav- 
 ing been celebrated, Warwick and Oxford prepared 
 to return to England. Fortune, with fickle smile, 
 cheered the king-maker's enterprise. Every thing 
 was promising ; for the English people, since War- 
 wick had been exiled to a foreign strand, complained 
 that England without " The Stout Earl" was like a 
 world without a sun ; and day after day came mes- 
 sengers to tell that thousands of men were ready to 
 take up arms in his cause whenever he set foot on 
 his native soil.
 
 WARWICK'S RETURN TO ENGLAND. 243 
 
 Delay was not to be thought of under such cir- 
 cumstances. The earl did not lose any time. With 
 Pembroke and Clarence, and Oxford and George De 
 Vere, Oxford's brother, he went on board the fleet 
 that lay at Harfleur. The French coast was not, 
 indeed, clear ; for Burgundy had fitted out a fleet, 
 which blockaded Harfleur and the mouth of the 
 Seine. But even the elements favored Warwick at 
 this crisis of his career. A storm arising dispersed 
 the duke's fleet ; and, next morning, the weather 
 being fine, the earl and the Lancastrians gave their 
 sails to the wind, and, confident of bringing their 
 enterprise to a successful issue, left behind them the 
 coast of Normandy.
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 THE EARL'S RETURN AND EDWARD'S FLIGHT. 
 
 WHEN Warwick, in France, was forming an alli- 
 ance with Margaret of Anjou, the people of En- 
 gland were manifesting their anxiety for "The Stout 
 Earl's" return.* Edward of York, meanwhile, ap- 
 peared to consider the kingdom nothing the worse 
 for the king-maker's absence. He even ridiculed 
 the idea of taking any precautions to guard against 
 the invasion which was threatened. Instead of mak- 
 ing preparations for defense, the king, after the earl's 
 departure from England, occupied himself wholly 
 
 * "The absence of the Earl of Warwick," says Hall, 
 "made the common people daily more and more to long, 
 and be desirous to have the sight of him, and presently to 
 behold his personage. For they judged that the sun was 
 dearly taken from the world when he was absent. In such 
 high estimation, among the people, was his name, that 
 neither no one man they had in so much honor, neither no 
 OIK? person they so much praised, or, to the clouds, so highly 
 extolled. What shall I say? His only name sounded in 
 every song, in the mouth of the common people, and his 
 person was represented with great reverence when public 
 plays or open triumphs should be showed or set forth abroad 
 in the streets."
 
 THE LANDING IN DEVON. 245 
 
 with the ladies of his court ; going in their com- 
 pany on hunting excursions, and diverting himself 
 with every kind of pleasant pastime. 
 
 The Duke of Burgundy was by no means so cool 
 as the King of England. In fact, Charles the Rash 
 was quite aware of the degree of danger to which 
 his brother-in-law was exposed, and gave him time- 
 ly warning not only that an invasion was projected, 
 but of the very port at which Warwick intended to 
 land. "By GOD'S blessed lady," exclaimed Ed- 
 ward, " I wish the earl would land, and when we 
 have beaten him in England, I only ask our brother 
 of Burgundy to keep such a good look-out at sea as 
 to prevent his return to France." 
 
 The wish which the king, with too much confi- 
 dence in his resources, thus expressed, was speedily 
 to be gratified. About the middle of September, 
 1470, while he was in the north, suppressing an in- 
 surrection headed by Lord Fitzhugh, Warwick sud- 
 denly landed on the coast of Devon, and proclaimed 
 that he came to put down falsehood and oppression, 
 and to have law and justice fairly administered. It 
 soon appeared that the popularity of the earl gave 
 him a power that was irresistible. A few months 
 earlier, when he was escaping to France, a mag- 
 nificent reward had been offered by the king to any 
 man who should seize the rebellious baron ; but 
 now that the earl was once more in England, with
 
 210 TUP: WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Oxford by his side, all the heroes of the Bound Ta- 
 ble, if they had been in the flesh, would have shrunk 
 from the hazard of such an exploit. Long ere he 
 landed, the Nevilles and De Veres were mustering 
 their merry-men ; a few days later warriors of all 
 ranks were flocking to his standard ; and, at the 
 head of a numerous army, he marched toward Lon- 
 don. Being informed, however, that the capital 
 was favorable to his project, and that the king had 
 retraced his steps to Nottingham, Warwick turned 
 toward the Trent, summoning men to his standard 
 as he went, and intending to give Edward battle. 
 
 Meanwhile, the king's situation was gradually be- 
 coming desperate. His soldiers, giving way to dis- 
 content, began to desert ; and, while he was in Lin- 
 coln, near the River Welland, circumstances occurred 
 to prove the prudence of Burgundy's warnings, and 
 to remove Edward's illusions. 
 
 At the time when Warwick was flying from En- 
 gland, Edward, in defiance of prudential considera- 
 tions, took one of those steps which sometimes cost 
 a crown. After his victory at Hexham, Lord Mon- 
 tagu had been gifted with the earldom of Northum- 
 berland. At that time the young chief of the Per- 
 cies was a Lancastrian captive in the Tower or an 
 exile in Scotland ; but the mediation of friends pre- 
 vailed, and the heir of Hotspur was reconciled to 
 the heir of the Mortimers. Edward deemed the
 
 FLIGHT OF THE KING. 21? 
 
 opportunity favorable for weakening the Nevilles, 
 and encouraged the Northumbrians to petition for 
 the restoration of the house of Percy. The North- 
 umbrians did petition ; Montagu resigned the earl- 
 dom ; and the king, to console him for his loss, ele- 
 vated the victor of Hexham to the rank of marquis. 
 Montagu took the marquisate, but he indulged in a 
 bitter jest and bided his time. 
 
 It happened that, when Warwick landed, Montagu 
 had mustered ten thousand men in the king's name. 
 Hearing of the earl's return, these soldiers caught 
 the popular contagion, and evinced so strong an in- 
 clination to desert their standard, that Montagu 
 saw that the hour for retaliation was come ; and, 
 after remarking that " Edward had taken North- 
 umberland from him, and given him a marquisate, 
 but only a pie's nest to maintain it withal," he 
 frankly added, " I shall decidedly take the part of 
 the earl." 
 
 The king was that night asleep in the royal tent 
 when aroused by the chief of his minstrels, and in- 
 formed that Montagu and some other lords had 
 mounted their horses and ordered their soldiers to 
 raise the shout of " GOD bless King Henry !" Ed- 
 ward, completely taken by surprise, rose and buckled 
 on his armor ; but, resistance being out of the ques- 
 tion, he determined to fly. Having exhorted his 
 followers to go and join "Warwick, pretending great
 
 248 THE WARS OF THE ROS I 
 
 friendship, but secretly retaining their allegiance, 
 the king rode toward Lynn, accompanied by about 
 a hundred knights and gentlemen, among whom 
 were his brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester ; hi* 
 brother-in-law, Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers ; 
 his Chamberlain, "William, Lord Hastings ; and Wil- 
 liam Fiennes, Lord Say, son of that nobleman who 
 had been put to death during Jack Cade's insurrec- 
 tion. At Lynn the king found an English ship and 
 two Dutch vessels ready to put to sea. On board 
 of these Edward and his friends hastily embarked ; 
 and, leaving Warwick and Oxford masters of En- 
 gland, set sail for the territories of Burgundy. 
 
 Within St. Paul's Church-yard, to the north of the 
 Cathedral, Cardinal Kempe had erected a cross to 
 remind passers-by to pray for the souls of those 
 buried beneath their feet. To preach at Paul's 
 Cross was an object of clerical ambition ; and, when 
 service was there performed, the multitude gathered 
 round the pulpit, while the wealthy citizens and 
 municipal functionaries occupied galleries so con- 
 structed as to shelter them when the weather hap- 
 pened to be inclement. On the Sunday after Mi- 
 chaelmas, 1470, Dr. Goddard was the divine who 
 officiated ; and the doctor, being one of Warwick's 
 chaplains, preached a political sermon, advocating 
 the claims of the royal captive in the Tower, and 
 setting forth the earl's patriotic intentions in such a
 
 THE SANCTUARY. 249 
 
 light that the audience could not help wishing well 
 to the enterprise. 
 
 The metropolis, thus excited, conceived a strong 
 desire for Warwick's success ; and, when it became 
 known that King Edward had fled from the Wei- 
 land, and that the earl was marching upon London, 
 the partisans of the house of York, seeing that re- 
 sistance would be vain, hastened to take refuge in 
 the religious houses that had the privilege of afford- 
 ing sanctuary. 
 
 Hard by the Palace of Westminster, in the fif- 
 teenth century, stood a massive edifice, with a church 
 built over it in the form of a cross. This structure, 
 which was a little town in itself, and strongly enough 
 fortified to stand a siege, had been erected by Ed- 
 ward the Confessor as a place of refuge to the dis- 
 tressed, and, according to tradition and the belief of 
 the superstitious, it had been " by St. Peter in his 
 own person, accompanied with great numbers of 
 angels, by night specially hallowed and dedicated to 
 GOD." 
 
 Within the walls of this sanctuary, at the time 
 when Edward of York was flying to the territories 
 of the Duke of Burgundy, and Warwick was ad- 
 vancing upon London, Elizabeth Woodville, leaving 
 the Tower, and escaping down the Thames in a 
 barge, took refuge with her three daughters, her 
 mother, the Duchess of Bedford, and her friend, the
 
 250 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Lady Scroope. There, forsaken by her court, and 
 exposed to penury, the unhappy woman gave birth 
 to her son Edward. This boy, " the child of mis- 
 ery," was " baptized in tears." " Like a poor man's 
 child was he christened," says the chronicler, "his 
 godfather being the Abbot and Prior of Westmin- 
 ster." 
 
 Meanwhile, on the Gth of October, Warwick en- 
 tered London in triumph ; and, going directly to the 
 Tower, the great earl released Henry of Windsor, 
 proclaimed him king, and escorted him from a prison 
 to a palace. After this the king-maker called a 
 Parliament, which branded Edward as a usurper, 
 attainted his adherents as traitors, restored to the 
 Lancastrians their titles and estates, and passed an 
 act entailing the crown on Edward of Lancaster, 
 and, failing that hopeful prince, on George, Duke 
 of Clarence. 
 
 So great was the earl's power and popularity that 
 he accomplished the restoration of Lancaster almost 
 without drawing his sword ; and no man suffered 
 death upon the scaffold, with the exception of John 
 Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, whose cruelties, exercised 
 in spite of learning and a love of letters that have 
 made his name famous, had exasperated the people 
 to phrcnsy, and won him tho name of " the Butcher." 
 Warwick was not a man, save when on fields of 
 fight, to delight in the shedding of blood ; and, even
 
 WARWICK'S TRIUMPH. 251 
 
 had it been otherwise, his high pride would have 
 made him scorn in the hour of triumph the idea of 
 striking helpless foes. 
 
 At Calais the news of the earl's triumph created 
 no less excitement than in England. The intelli- 
 gence might, under some circumstances, have caused 
 Governor Vauclerc considerable dismay and no slight 
 apprehension that his conduct while the earl was 
 in adversity would place him in a perilous predica- 
 ment. Vauclerc, however, had his consolation, and 
 must have chuckled as he reflected on the prudence 
 he had exercised. The crafty Gascon, doubtless, 
 congratulated himself heartily on his foresight, and 
 felt assured that in spite of Edward's patent and 
 Burgundy's pension, the devotion he had expressed 
 and the intelligence he had given to Warwick would, 
 now that the political wind had changed, secure him 
 a continuance of place and power. 
 
 But, whatever on the occasion might have been 
 Governor Vauclerc' s sentiments, Warwick's triumph 
 produced a sudden change in the politics of Calais. 
 The city, so often the refuge of Yorkists in distress, 
 manifested unequivocal symptoms of joy at a rev- 
 olution which restored the house of Lancaster ; and 
 the Caiesians, forgetting that, from selfish motives, 
 they had, six months earlier, refused Warwick ad- 
 mittance within their walls, painted the white cross 
 of Neville over their doors, and endeavored, in vari-
 
 252 THE WARS OF THE ROSES 
 
 ous ways, to testify excessive respect for the great 
 noble who could make and unmake kings. As for 
 the garrison, which, a few months earlier, could not 
 be trusted, every man was now ready to drink the 
 earl's health ; every tongue sounded the praises of 
 the king-maker ; every cap was conspicuously orna- 
 mented witli the Ragged Staff, known, far and wide, 
 as the badge of the Countess of Warwick. 
 
 Fortune, which seldom does things by halves, 
 seemed to have conducted the earl to a triumph too 
 complete to be reversed ; and if any one, with the gift 
 of political prophecy, had ventured to predict that, 
 within six months, King Edward would ride into 
 London amid the applause of the populace, he would 
 have been regarded as a madman. Every circum- 
 stance rendered such an event improbable in the ex- 
 treme. The fickle goddess appeared to have forever 
 deserted the White Rose, and to have destined the 
 sun of York never more to shine in merry England.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE EARL OF WORCESTER. 
 
 WHILE Edward is in exile ; and Elizabeth Wood' 
 ville in the sanctuary ; and Warwick holding the 
 reins of power ; and Margaret of Anjou and her son 
 on the Continent ; we may refer with brevity to the 
 melancholy fate of John Tiptoft, Earl of Worces- 
 ter, celebrated on the same page of history as " the 
 Butcher" and as " the paragon of learning and the 
 patron of Caxton" the most accomplished among 
 the nobility of his age, and, at the same time, the 
 only man "who, during the Yorkist domination, 
 had committed such excesses as to merit the pun- 
 ishment of death at the Lancastrian restoration." 
 
 Though not of high patrician rank like the Nev- 
 illes or the De Veres, Worcester had claims to con- 
 siderable respect in an ancestral point of view. One 
 of the family of Tiptoft, after fighting in the Barons' 
 Wars against Simon de Montfort, accompanied the 
 victor of Evesham when that great prince fared 
 forth to the Holy Land to signalize his prowess 
 against the enemies of his religion ; and the de- 
 scendants of the crusader made their name known 
 to fame in those wars which our Plantagenet kings
 
 254 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 carried on in Scotland and in France. Early in 
 the fifteenth century, Lord Tiptoft, the chief of the 
 race, espoused the sister and co-heir of Edward 
 Charlton, Lord Powis ; and, about the year 1427, 
 their son, John Tiptoft, first saw the light at Ever- 
 ton, in the shire of Cambridge. 
 
 The heir of the Tiptofts was educated at Baliol 
 College, Oxford ; and at that ancient seat of learn- 
 ing pursued his studies with such energy and en- 
 thusiasm as raised the admiration of his contem- 
 poraries, and laid the foundation of the fame which 
 he has enjoyed with posterity. When in his teens, 
 he became, by his father's death, one of the barons 
 of England, and, some time later, in 1449, he found 
 himself elevated, by Henry of Windsor, to the earl- 
 dom of Worcester. He had enjoyed this new dig- 
 nity for six years, and reached the age of twenty- 
 eight, when blood was first shed at St. Albans in 
 the Wars of the Roses. 
 
 Worcester was a man of action as well as a 
 scholar. When, therefore, war commenced, he was, 
 doubtless, looked upon by both parties as a desirable 
 partisan. The accomplished earl, however, appears 
 to have been in no haste to risk his head and his 
 baronies in the quarrel either of York or Lancaster. 
 At first, he hesitated, wavered, and refrained from 
 committing himself as to the merits of the contro- 
 versy, and, finally, instead of plucking either " the
 
 WORCESTER'S STUDIES AND TRAVELS. 255 
 
 pale or the purple rose," avoided the hazard of 
 making a choice by leaving the country and repair- 
 ing to the Holy Land. 
 
 After indulging his zeal as a Christian and his 
 curiosity as a man, during his visit to Jerusalem, 
 Worcester turned toward Italy ; and having beheld 
 the wonders of Venice then in all the pride of 
 wealth and commercial prosperity and resided for 
 a time at Padua then famous as the chief seat of 
 European learning he proceeded to Rome to glad- 
 den his eyes with a sight of the Vatican Library. 
 While in Rome Worcester had an interview with 
 Pius the Second, and an interesting scene rendered 
 the occasion memorable. On being presented to the 
 Pope, better known in England as ^Eneas Sylvius, 
 the young English nobleman addressed to him a 
 Latin oration, to which the learned pontiff listened 
 with tears of admiration. 
 
 As soon as the news spread over Europe that the 
 Lancastrians had been utterly routed on Towton 
 Field, and that Edward of York was firmly seated 
 on the English throne, Worcester returned home. 
 During his residence in Italy he had purchased 
 many volumes of manuscripts ; and of these he con- 
 tributed a liberal share to the library at Oxford, 
 whose shelves had formerly profited by the dona- 
 tions of "The Good Duke Humphrey." When 
 abroad, Worcester had evinced such an eagerness
 
 j.-.'i THE WARS OF THE ROSI 
 
 to possess himself of books, that it was said he 
 plundered the libraries of Italy to enrich those of 
 England. 
 
 The king received Worcester with favor, and treat- 
 ed him with high consideration. Soon after his re- 
 turn the learned earl presided at the trial of John, 
 Earl of Oxford, and his son, Aubrey De Vere ; and, 
 no longer inclined to waver, he buckled on the mail 
 of a warrior, and accompanied Edward to the north 
 of England on his expedition against the Lancastri- 
 ans. Meanwhile, he had been intrusted with high 
 offices ; and appears to have at the same time exer- 
 cised the functions of Treasurer of the King's Ex- 
 chequer and Constable of the Tower of London, 
 Chancellor of Ireland, and Justice of North Wales. 
 
 For seven years after his return from Italy, Wor- 
 cester conducted himself with credit and distinc- 
 tion. Evil communications, however, corrupt good 
 manners. At a critical period the intellectual baron 
 appears to have fallen under the influence of Eliza- 
 beth Woodville ; and to have been used by that un- 
 scrupulous woman to perpetrate acts of tyranny that 
 ultimately cost him his life. 
 
 Of the great Norman barons whose swords had 
 won them dominion over the Celts of Ireland the 
 Fitzgeralds were among the proudest and most pow- 
 erful. One branch of the family held the earldom 
 of Desmond ; another that of Kildare ; and both ex-
 
 THE EARL OF DESMOND. 257 
 
 ercised much influence in the provinces subject to 
 their sway. In the contest between the rival Plan- 
 tagenets, the Fitzgeralds adopted the White Rose as 
 their badge ; and Thoma?, eighth Earl of Desmond, 
 fought by Edward's side in those battles which won 
 the crown for the house of York. 
 
 When the question of Edward's marriage with 
 Elizabeth Woodville was agitated, Desmond was 
 naturally consulted ; and the Norman earl took a 
 different course from such pickthanks as Sir John 
 Howard. Being frank and honest, he unhesitating- 
 ly pointed out the king's imprudence, and perhaps 
 became, in consequence, one of those people for whom 
 the widow of Sir John Grey did not entertain any 
 particular affection. But, however that may have 
 been, Edward appointed his old comrade-in-arms 
 deputy to the Duke of Clarence, who was then Lord- 
 lieutenant of Ireland, and when Desmond was pre- 
 paring to depart from London, the king asked if 
 there was any thing in his policy that could be 
 amended. The earl, with more zeal for his sover- 
 eign's service than respect for his sovereign's mar- 
 riage vow, advised Edward to divorce Elizabeth 
 Woodville, and to marry some woman worthy of 
 sharing the English throne. 
 
 Edward was not the most faithful of husbands ; 
 and Elizabeth Woodville may not. at first, have been 
 
 the most patient of wives, though she afterward. 
 R
 
 25^ THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 learned to submit with a good grace. At all event?, 
 they had sundry domestic quarrels; and Edward, 
 during some altercation with the queen, said, " Had 
 I hearkened to Desmond's advice, your insolent spirit 
 would have been humbled." 
 
 The queen's curiosity was excited in the highest 
 degree ; and, unluckily for Desmond, she determ- 
 ined to find out what advice he had given. On 
 eliciting the truth, Elizabeth vowed revenge; and 
 so strenuous were her efforts to effect the earl's 
 ruin, that she succeeded at length in having him 
 sentenced to lose both his office and his head. Un- 
 fortunately for Worcester, he was appointed to suc- 
 ceed Desmond as deputy ; and, on arriving in Ire- 
 land to assume his functions, he caused the sentence 
 of decapitation against his predecessor to be exe- 
 cuted. Under any circumstances, the duty which 
 the new deputy had thus to perform would have 
 been invidious. If we are to credit the story gener- 
 ally told, Worcester executed the sentence under 
 circumstances, not only invidious, but disgraceful and 
 dishonorable. 
 
 According to the popular account of the execu- 
 tion of Desmond, the king had no more idea than 
 the child unborn that his old friend was to fall a 
 victim to female malice. It is said that Elizabeth 
 Woodville, having by stealth obtained the royal sig- 
 net, affixed the seal to a warrant for the Irish earl's
 
 EXECUTION OF DESMOND. 259 
 
 execution, and that Worcester, in order to possess 
 himself of some part of Desmond's estates, instantly 
 acted on this document. It is added that, on hear- 
 ing of the transaction, Edward was so enraged, that 
 Elizabeth, terrified at her husband's wrath, fled from 
 him to a place of safety. 
 
 Desmond was executed at Drogheda ; and, when 
 his head fell, the Fitzgeralds rose as one man to 
 avenge the death of their chief. Worcester, how- 
 ever, far from being daunted, stood his ground fear- 
 lessly, and remained in Ireland till 1470, when War- 
 wick finally broke with the king. As Clarence 
 took part with his father-in-law, his posts as Con- 
 stable of England and Lord-lieutenant of Ireland 
 were forfeited, and Edward bestowed them upon 
 Worcester. 
 
 On the occasion of his promotion to the lord- 
 lieutenancy, Worcester returned to England. On 
 arriving at Southampton, he was commanded by 
 the king to sit in judgment on several gentlemen 
 and yeomen taken by Anthony Woodville in some 
 ships during a skirmish at sea. Worcester, who ap- 
 pears to have been the reverse of squeamish about 
 shedding blood, condemned twenty of them to be 
 " drawn, hanged, and quartered." Among these 
 was John Clapham, the squire who figured so con- 
 spicuously at Banbury. 
 
 Worcester had hardly rendered this service to
 
 260 THE WARS OF THE ROSE? 
 
 Edward when Warwick landed, and carried ev- 
 ery thing before him. The revolution which re- 
 stored Henry of Windsor, and placed England in 
 the power of Warwick and his brother-in-law, the 
 Earl of Oxford, was accomplished with so little re- 
 sistance, that scarcely a drop of blood was shed. 
 Worcester, however, was not allowed to escape. 
 Though a man of rare accomplishments for his age, 
 and one who endeavored to inspire his countrymen 
 with that respect for letters which he himself felt, 
 the earl had, while constable of the Tower, been 
 guilty of fearful severities against the Lancastrians ; 
 and he was spoken of among the populace as " The 
 Butcher of England."* 
 
 Hearing of the king's flight, and not unconscious 
 of his own unpopularity, Worcester was under the 
 necessity of shifting for himself as he best could. 
 His efforts to escape, however, were fruitless. Be- 
 ing pursued into the county of Huntingdon, he was 
 
 * "It is vain," says Sir E. Buhver Lytton, "that some 
 writers would seek to cleanse the memory of the learned no- 
 bleman from the stain of cruelty, by rhetorical remarks on 
 the improbability that a cultivator of letters should be of a 
 ruthless disposition . The general philosophy of this defense 
 is erroneous. In ignorant ages, a man of superior acquire- 
 ments is not necessarily made humane by the cultivation of 
 his intellect; on the contrary, he too often learns to It ok 
 upon the uneducated herd as things of another clay. Of 
 this truth all history is pregnant."
 
 THE BUTCHER BEHEADED. 261 
 
 found concealed in a tree in the forest of Weybridge, 
 dragged from his hiding-place, and carried to the 
 Tower of London. 
 
 "Worcester was, without delay, brought to trial. 
 The Earl of Oxford presided on the occasion ; and 
 the lord-lieutenant was charged with having, while 
 deputy, been guilty of extreme cruelty to two orphan 
 boys, the infant sons of the Earl of Desmond. On 
 this charge he was condemned. He was forthwith 
 executed on Tower Hill, and his headless trunk was 
 buried in the monastery of the Black Friars. 
 
 Whatever the faults of Worcester, Caxton seems 
 to have regarded him with respect and admiration. 
 " Oh, good blessed LORD," exclaims that English 
 worthy, ' what great loss was it of that noble, vir- 
 tuous, and well-disposed lord, the Earl of Worcester. 
 What worship had he at Rome, in the presence of 
 our holy father the pope, and in all other places 
 unto his death. The axe then did, at one blow, 
 cut off more learning than was in the heads of all 
 the surviving nobility."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE BANISHED KING. 
 
 THE adventures of Edward of York, when, at the 
 age of thirty, driven from the kingdom by the Earl 
 of Warwick, seem rather like the creation of a nov- 
 elist's fancy than events in real life. Scarcely had 
 he escaped from his mutinous army on the Welland, 
 taken shipping at Lynn, and sailed for the Burgun- 
 dian territories, trusting to the hospitality of his 
 brother-in-law, than he was beset with a danger 
 hardly less pressing than that from which he had 
 fled. Freed from that peril, and disappointed of a 
 cordial welcome, an impulse, which he had neither 
 the will nor the power to resist, brought back the 
 dethroned and banished prince, with a handful of 
 adherents, resolved either to be crowned with laurel 
 or covered with cypress. 
 
 During the Wars of the Roses, the narrow seas 
 were infested by the Easterlings, who sailed as pri- 
 vateers as well as traders, and did a little business 
 in the way of piracy besides. At the time of Ed- 
 ward's exile, the Easterlings were at war both with 
 the house of Valois and that of Plantagenet, and 
 had recently inflicted much damage on ships be-
 
 EDWARD AM) THK EASTERLINGS. W.I 
 
 longing to the subjects of England. Unluckily for 
 Edward, some of the Easterlings happened to be 
 hovering on the coast when he sailed from Lynn, 
 and scarcely had the shores of England vanished 
 from the eyes of the royal fugitive, when eight of 
 their ships gave chase to his little squadron. 
 
 The Yorkist king was far from relishing the ea- 
 gerness manifested by the Easterlings to make his 
 acquaintance, and would, doubtless, have been de- 
 lighted to get, by fair sailing, clearly out of their 
 way. This, however, appeared impossible ; and, 
 as the danger became alarming, he commanded the 
 skipper to run ashore at all hazards. Edward, al- 
 beit exile and fugitive, was not the man to be dis- 
 obeyed; and the ships stranded on the coast of 
 Friesland, near the town of Alkmaar. The East- 
 erlings, however, were not thus to be shaken off. 
 Instead of giving up the chase, they resolved to 
 board Edward's vessels by the next tide, and, mean- 
 while, followed as close as the depth of the water 
 would permit. The king's situation was therefore 
 the reverse of pleasant. Indeed, his safety appeared 
 to depend on the chances of a few hours. 
 
 Among the European magnates with whom Ed- 
 ward, in the course of his checkered career, had 
 formed friendships, was a Burgundian nobleman, 
 Louis de Bruges, Lord of Grauthuse. This per- 
 sonage, at once a soldier, a scholar, and a trader,
 
 261 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 had, on more than one occasion, rendered accept- 
 able service to the White Rose. In other days, he 
 had been sent by the Duke of Burgundy to cancel 
 the treaty of marriage between the son of Margaret 
 of Anjou and the daughter of Mary of Gueldres : 
 and subsequently to the court of England, to treat 
 of the match between Margaret Plantagenet and the 
 Count of Charolois. Being stadtholder of Friesland, 
 the Burgundian happened to be at Alkmaar when 
 Edward was stranded on the coast, and by chance 
 became acquainted with the startling fact that En- 
 gland's king was in the utmost danger of falling into 
 the hands of privateers from the Hansc Towns. 
 
 Louis de Bruges could hardly have been unaware 
 that the Duke of Burgundy had no wish to see Ed- 
 ward's face, or to be inextricably involved in the 
 affairs of his unfortunate kinsman. The Lord of 
 Grauthuse, however, was not the person to leave, 
 on the coast of Frissland, at the mercy of pirates, a 
 friend whom, on the banks of the Thames, he had 
 known as a gallant and hospitable monarch ; at 
 whose board he had feasted in the Great Hall of 
 Eltham, at whose balls he had danced in the Palaco 
 of Westminster, and with whose hounds he had 
 hunted the stag through the glades of Windsor. 
 Perhaps, indeed, being gifted with true nobility of 
 soul, he was all the readier with his friendly offices 
 that Edward was a banished man. In any case, he
 
 LOUIS DE BRUGES. 265 
 
 took immediate steps to relieve the royal exile, hast- 
 ened on board, and, without reference to the duke's 
 political views, invited the English king and his 
 friends to land. 
 
 Never Avas assistance more cheerfully given, or 
 more gratefully received. The exiles breathed free- 
 ly, and thanked Heaven for aid so timely. But a 
 new difficulty at once presented itself. Edward was 
 so poor that he could not pay the master of the 
 Dutch vessel, and all his comrades were in an equal- 
 ly unhappy plight. The king, however, soon got 
 over this awkward circumstance. Taking off his 
 cloak, which was lined with marten, he presented it 
 to the skipper, and, with that frank grace which he 
 possessed in such rare perfection, promised a fitting 
 reward when better days should come. 
 
 At the town of Alkmaar, twenty miles from 
 Amsterdam, and celebrated for its rich pastures, the 
 exiled king set foot on Continental soil. His cir- 
 cumstances were most discouraging. Even his gar- 
 ments and those of his friends appear to have been 
 in such a condition as to excite surprise. " Sure," 
 says Comines, " so poor a company were never seen 
 before ; yet the Lord of Grauthuse dealt very hon- 
 orably by them, giving them clothes, and bearing all 
 their expenses, till they came to the Hague." 
 
 In his adversity, indeed, the conqueror of Towton 
 could hardly have met with a better friend than
 
 JOG THE WARS OF THE ROS I 
 
 Louis de Bruges. At the Hague the king felt the 
 hardness of his lot alleviated by such attentions as 
 exiles seldom experience. These, doubtless, were 
 not without their effect. As Edward indulged in 
 the good cheer of the city, and quaffed the good 
 wine of the country, he would gradually take heart. 
 Diverted from melancholy reflections by the wit of 
 Anthony "Woodville, and the humor of William 
 Hastings, and the crafty suggestions of the boy- 
 Duke of Gloucester, he would find his heart ani- 
 mated by a hope unfelt for days ; and, under the 
 influence of successive bumpers, he would allude to 
 Warwick's implacable resentment, not in accents 
 of despondency, but with his habitual oath, and his 
 customaiy expression, " By GOD'S Blessed Lady, he 
 shall repent it through every vein cf his heart." 
 
 But what would Burgundy say to all this ? That 
 was a question which the Lord of Grauthuse must 
 frequently have asked himself, after feasting his 
 royal guest, and recalling to his memory the scenes 
 of other days, and the fair and the noble who were 
 now suffering for his sake. The duke had already 
 heard of Henry's restoration in connection with a 
 rumor of Edward's death ; and, far from manifest- 
 ing any excessive grief, he had remarked that his 
 relations were with the kingdom of England, not 
 with the king, and that he cared not whether the 
 name of Henry or that of Edward was employed in
 
 EMBARRASSMENT OF BURGUNDY. i>67 
 
 the articles of treaty. In fact, the Lancastrian 
 prejudices of Charles the Kash had never, perhaps, 
 been stronger than when the mighty arm of War- 
 wick was likely to smite the enemies of the Red 
 Rose. 
 
 From the Hague Louis de Bruges intimated to 
 Burgundy the arrival of King Edward. Burgundy 
 had within the year demonstrated his respect for 
 the King of England by appearing at Ghent with 
 the blue garter on his leg and the red cross on his 
 mantle. But, now that Edward was a king with- 
 out a crown, the duke's sentiments were quite 
 changed, and he was unwilling, by holding any in- 
 tercourse with so hapless a being, to throw new dif- 
 ficulties in the way of those ambitious projects which 
 he hoped would convert his ducal coronal into a 
 regal and independent crown. On hearing the news 
 of his brother-in-law being alive and in Holland, 
 the duke's features, naturally harsh and severe, as- 
 sumed an expression of extreme surprise. " He 
 would have been better pleased,' 1 says Comines, " if 
 it had been news of Edward's death." 
 
 Burgundy was with some reason annoyed at Ed- 
 ward's having paid so little attention to his warn- 
 ings ; and, moreover, he was vexed with himself for 
 having, out of friendship to so imprudent a prince, 
 exasperated to mortal enmity so potent a personage 
 as " The Stout Earl." But Burgundy little knew
 
 2C3 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the ability and energy which, in seasons of adver- 
 sity, the chief of the Plantagenets was capable of 
 displaying. Edward already felt that something 
 must be attempted. Dullness he could not bear. 
 The idea of passing his life as a grumbling or plot- 
 ting refugee was not to be entertained. Hitherto, 
 when not engaged in making war on men, he had 
 been occupied in making love to women. For lux- 
 urious indolence he had always had a failing ; from 
 violent exertion he had seldom shrunk ; but excite- 
 ment he had ever regarded as indispensable. When 
 he left his gay and brilliant court, it was to charge, 
 at the head of fighting men, against the foes of his 
 house ; and, with all his faults, it was admitted that 
 Christendom could hardly boast of so brave a sol- 
 dier, so gallant a knight, or so skillful a general. 
 One man. indeed, Edward kne\v was still deemed 
 his superior ; and the banished Plantagenet burned 
 for an opportunity to exercise his somewhat savagi- 
 valor against the patriot earl who had made and 
 unmade him. 
 
 The duke soon found that his royal relative was 
 not likely to die an exiled king. In fact, Edward, 
 who lately had exhibited so much indolence and in- 
 difference, was now all enthusiasm and eagenu - 
 action. He who, while in England, was so lazy that 
 the most pressing exhortations could not rouse him 
 to obviously necessary precautions in defense of his
 
 EDWARD IN HOLLAND. 269 
 
 crown, had now, when an exile in Holland, more 
 need of a bridle than a spur. 
 
 The position of Duke Charles was somewhat del- 
 icate. While aware that he could not with decency 
 refuse aid to his wife's brother, he was unable to 
 exclude from his mind great apprehensions from 
 the hostility of Warwick. In this dilemma, even 
 Europe's proudest and haughtiest magnate could 
 not afford to be fastidious as to the means of saving 
 himself. Between love of the duchess and fear of 
 the carl, Charles the Rash for once found it neces- 
 sary to condescend to the process of playing a double 
 game-. To ingratiate himself with Warwick he re- 
 solved to issue a proclamation forbidding any of his 
 subjects to join Edward's expedition; and, at the 
 same time, to pacify the duchess, he promised to 
 grant secretly to his exiled kinsman the means of 
 attempting to regain the English crown. 
 
 Preparations for Edward's departure were soon 
 made. Twelve hundred men were got together, 
 part of whom were English, armed with hand-guns, 
 and part Flemings. To convey these to England, 
 ships were necessary : to pay them, money was not 
 less essential. Both ships and money were forth- 
 coming. 
 
 Burgundy furnished the ships. The duke, how- 
 ever, acted with a caution which seemed to form no 
 part of his character, and gave assistance in a man-
 
 270 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ner so secret that he trusted to avoid hostilities with 
 the government established. At Vere, in "\Val- 
 cheren, four vessels were fitted out for Edward's use 
 in the name of private merchants, and fourteen 
 others were hired from the Easterlings to complete 
 the squadron. 
 
 The house of Medici would seem to have supplied 
 the money. At an earlier stage of the great strug- 
 gle that divided England, Cosmo, the grandfather 
 of Lorenzo the Magnificent, had thrown his weight 
 into the Yorkist scale by advancing money to keep 
 Edward on the throne; and the banker-princes of 
 Florence appear once more to have influenced the 
 fortunes of the house of Plantagenet by affording 
 pecuniary aid to the heir of York. One way or 
 another, Edward got possession of fifty thousand 
 florins no insignificant sum, considering how des- 
 perate seemed his fortunes. 
 
 The royal exile was now impatient to be in En- 
 gland, and there was at least one man who prayed 
 earnestly for the success of his enterprise. This was 
 Louis de Bruges, who to his credit be it told had 
 throughout displayed toward the fugitive monarch, 
 in an age of selfishness and servility, a generosity 
 worthy of those great days of chivalry which boast- 
 ed of the Black Prince and John de Valois. After 
 having given all the aid he could to Edward in re- 
 gard to ships and money, Louis still appears to have
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND 271 
 
 thought he had not done enough. To complete his 
 courtesy, therefore, he offered to accompany the ban- 
 ished king to England, and aid in overcoming his 
 enemies in the battles that were inevitable. This 
 last sacrifice to friendship Edward declined to ac- 
 cept ; but he was touched by such a proof of esteem, 
 and pressed his host strongly to come once more to 
 England, and give him an opportunity of requiting 
 so much hospitality. After an affectionate fare- 
 well, the king and the stadtholder parted ; and Ed- 
 ward, having embarked, sailed toward England, with 
 the determination cither to reoccupy a regal throne 
 or to fill a warrior's grave. 
 
 Edward's fleet sailed from Vere, in Walcheren, 
 and, after a prosperous voyage, approached Cromer, 
 on the coast of Norfolk. Hoping much from the 
 influence of the Mowbrays, and eager to set his foot 
 on English soil, the king sent Sir Robert Chamber- 
 laine and another knight ashore to ascertain the 
 ideas of the Duke of Norfolk. But little did Ed- 
 ward know of the position of his friends. The 
 province was entirely under the influence of Ox- 
 ford ; and the Mowbrays, so far from retaining any 
 power, appear to have been glad, indeed, of that 
 earl's protection. "The duke and duchess," says 
 John Paston, writing to his mother, " now sue to 
 him as humbly as ever I did to them, inasmuch 
 that my Lord of Oxford shall have the rule of them
 
 272 THE WARS OF THE HOP I 
 
 and theirs, by (heir own desire and great means." 
 The answer brought back by Edward's knights was 
 not, therefore, satisfactory. Indeed, Oxford had 
 just been in Norfolk, to assure himself that no 
 precautions were omitted ; and the coast was so 
 vigilantly guarded by his brother, George De Vere, 
 that an attempt to land would have been rushing on 
 certain destruction. 
 
 Disappointed, but not dismayed, the king ordered 
 the mariners to steer northward ; and a violent storm 
 scattered his fleet. Persevering, however, with his 
 single ship, Edward, after having been tossed by 
 winds and storms for forty-eight hours, sailed into 
 the Humber, and on the 14th of March, 1471. ef- 
 fected a landing at Ravenspur, where, in other days, 
 Henry of Bolingbroke had set foot Avhen he came to 
 deprive the second Richard of his crown and his life. 
 Having passed the night at the village hard by, the 
 king was next morning joined by his friends, who 
 had landed on another part of the coast. 
 
 Edward now set his face southward ; but he soon 
 found that, on the shores of England, he was almost 
 as far from his object as he had been on the coast 
 of Walcheren. The people of the north were de- 
 cidedly hostile ; and at York he was brought to a 
 stand-still. It was an age, however, when men 
 sported with oaths as children do with playthings ; 
 and Edward's conscience was by no means more
 
 EDWARD CHALLENGES WARWICK. 273 
 
 tender than those of his neighbors. To smooth his 
 way, he solemnly swore only to claim the dukedom 
 of York, not to make any attempt to recover the 
 crown ; and, moreover, he carried his dissimulation 
 so far as to proclaim King Henry and assume the 
 ostrich feather, which was the cognizance of the 
 Lancastrian Prince of Wales. 
 
 After leaving York, however, a formidable ob- 
 stacle presented itself in the shape of Pontefract 
 Castle, where Montagu lay with an army. But the 
 marquis, deceived, it Avould seem, by a letter from 
 the false Clarence, made no attempt to bar Edward's 
 progress ; and, once across the Trent, the king threw 
 off his disguise, and rallied the people of the south 
 to his standard. At Coventry, into which War- 
 wick had retired to await the arrival of Clarence 
 with twelve thousand men, Edward, hatting before 
 the walls, challenged the earl to decide their quar- 
 rel by single combat. The king-maker, however, 
 treated this piece of knightly bravado with con- 
 tempt ; and Edward, having in vain endeavored to 
 bring his great foe to battle by threatening the town 
 of Warwick, was fain to throw himself between the 
 earl and the capital. 
 
 All this time Warwick's danger was much great- 
 er than he supposed, for the negotiations of the fe- 
 male embassador sent to Angers were bearing fruit ; 
 and Gloucester had held a secret conference with 
 S
 
 ^74 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Clarence in the false duke's camp. The conse- 
 quences of this interview soon appeared. Clarence, 
 reconciled to his brothers, seized an early oppor- 
 tunity of making his soldiers put the White Roee on 
 their gorgets instead of the lied, and then, with 
 colors flying and trumpets sounding, marched to 
 Edwai-d's camp. 
 
 The king, thus re-enforced, pressed courageously 
 toward London. Perhaps he entertained little doubt 
 of a favorable reception ; for he knew full well that 
 the interest he had among the city dames, and the 
 immense sums he owed their husbands sums never 
 likely to pay unless in the event of a restoration 
 made London friendly to his cause ; and he knew, 
 moreover, that thousands of his partisans were in 
 the sanctuaries, ready to come forth and don the 
 White Rose whenever the banner of York waved in 
 the spring breeze before the city gates. 
 
 It appears that Warwick, ere leaving London, 
 had placed the capital and the king under the aus- 
 pices of his brother, George Neville, Archbishop of 
 York. On hearing of Edward's approach, the arch- 
 bishop made an effort to discharge his duty, mount- 
 ed Henry of Wifk}sor s i hofcfeback, and caused him 
 to ride from St.Taul's to Walbrook to enlist the 
 sympathies of the citizens. But during the last six 
 months the feelings of the populace had undergone 
 a considerable change, and the spectacle of the monk-
 
 EDWARD IN LONDON. 275 
 
 monarch on his palfrey failed to elicit any thing like 
 enthusiasm. Seeing how the political wind blew, 
 the ambitious prelate resolved to abandon his broth- 
 er's cause, and dispatched a message to Edward ask- 
 ing to be received into favor. 
 
 The archbishop was assured of a pardon ; and the 
 way having thus been cleared, the king, on Thurs- 
 day, the llth of April, entered the city. After rid- 
 ing to St. Paul's, he repaired to the bishop's palace, 
 and thither, to his presence, came the archbishop, 
 leading Henry by the hand. Having taken posses- 
 sion of his captive, Edward rode to Westminster, 
 rendered thanks to GOD in the Abbey for his restora- 
 tion, conducted his wife and infant son from the 
 sanctuary to Baynard's Castle, passed next day, 
 Good Friday, in that palace of Duke Humphrey, 
 and then braced on his armor to battle for his 
 crown.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 QUEEN MARGARET'S VOYAGE. 
 
 ONE day in the middle of November, 1470, about 
 three months after the marriage of Edward of Lan- 
 caster and Anne Neville, Margaret of Anjou visited 
 Paris, and was received in the capital of Louis the 
 Crafty with honors never before accorded but to 
 queens of France. The daughter of King Rene 
 must in that hour have formed high notions of the 
 advantage of Warwick's friendship, for it was en- 
 tirely owing to the king-maker's triumph that King 
 Henry's wife was treated with so much distinction. 
 
 The news of Warwick's success and of Edward's 
 discomfiture, which had caused so much, excitement 
 in Calais, the Continental strong-hold of the En- 
 glish, traveled rapidly to the French territories, and 
 reached the king, who, at Amboise, was anxiously 
 awaiting the result of Warwick's expedition. Louis 
 was overjoyed at the success of his scheme?, and 
 demonstrated his confidence in the genius of the 
 earl by setting the treaty of Peronne at defiance, 
 and breaking all terms of amity with the Duke of 
 Burgundy. In his enthusiasm he could not even 
 recognize the possibility of a change of fortune.
 
 MARGARET IN PARIS. >" 
 
 For once this apostle of deceit was deceived by him- 
 self. 
 
 While rejoicing in the results produced by his 
 political craft, Louis was seized with a fit of devo- 
 tion. To indulge his superstitious emotions, the 
 king went on a pilgrimage to the Church of St. 
 Mary at Celles, in Poitou ; and, having there ex- 
 pressed his own gratitude to Heaven, he issued or- 
 ders that the clergy, nobles, and inhabitants of Paris 
 and other towns throughout France should make 
 solemn procession in honor of GOD and the Virgin, 
 and give thanks at once for the victory obtained by 
 Henry of Windsor over the Earl of March, who had 
 long usurped his throne, and for the peace now hap- 
 pily established between England and France. 
 
 The visit of Margaret of Anjou to Paris was then 
 projected ; and, when the religious festival, which 
 lasted for three days, was over, preparations were 
 made for her reception. At the appointed time, 
 Margaret proceeded on the journey, accompanied by 
 the Prince and Princess of Wale?, the Countess of 
 Warwick, the Countess of Wiltshire, a daughter of 
 the house of Beaufort, and other ladies and damsels 
 who had formed the court at Verdun, and attended 
 by an escort of French noblemen, among whom the 
 Counts D'Eu, Dunois, and Vendome were prominent 
 figures. 
 
 On reaching the French capital, Margaret was
 
 J78 THE WARS OF THE HOSES. 
 
 received with the highest honors. " When she ap- 
 proached Paris," says Monstrelet, "the bishop, the 
 court of Parliament, the University, the provosts of 
 Paris, and the court of Chatelet, by express orders 
 from the king, together with the principal inhabit- 
 ants, came out to meet her, handsomely dressed, and 
 in very numerous bodies. She made her entry at 
 the gate of St. James ; and all the streets through 
 which she passed, from that gate to the palace, 
 where apartments had been handsomely prepared 
 for her, were adorned with hangings of tapestry, 
 and had tents pitched in all the squares." At such 
 a time Margaret could hardly have helped recalling 
 to memory, perhaps not without feelings of bitter- 
 ness, how different had been her reception when, 
 eight years earlier, she, poor indeed and desolate. 
 but then as much as now Queen of the Lancas- 
 trians, came with her son in her hand to implore 
 her kinsman's aid to recover her husband's crown. 
 
 Enthusiastic as was the welcome of the Lancas- 
 trians to Paris, they had no motive to prolong their 
 stay on the banks of the Seine. Indeed, as it was 
 believed that nothing but the presence of the queen 
 and Prince of Wales was wanting to secure War- 
 wick triumph, they were all anxiety to set sail. 
 In November they journeyed to the coast, but the 
 winter was so cold and the weather so stormy that 
 they were fain to postpone their voyage.
 
 ADVERSE WINDS. 279 
 
 About the opening of the year 1471, the Prior 
 of St. John, dispatched by Warwick, came to urge 
 the necessity of Margaret's presence, and that of the 
 Prince of Wales, in England. The queen again 
 embarked, and the earl gladly prepared to welcome 
 the mother and the son to those shoresfrom which 
 he had, seven years before, driven them poor and 
 destitute ; but still the winds were adverse and the 
 weather stormy, and the ships only left Harfleur to 
 be driven back damaged.* 
 
 The elements had often proved unfavorable to 
 Margaret of Anjou, but never under circumstances 
 so unfortunate as on this occasion. Thrice did she 
 put to sea, and as often was she dashed back by 
 contrary winds. The partisans of each of the Roses 
 in England put their own interpretation on these 
 unpropitious gales. "It is GOD'S just provision," 
 said the Yorkists, " that the foreign woman, who 
 has been the cause of so many battles and so much 
 slaughter, should never return to England to do 
 
 * " On the 1-ith of February," says Fabyan, " the Duke 
 of Exster came to London, and on the 27th rode the Earl 
 of Warwick through the city toward Dover for to have re- 
 ceived Queen Margaret. But he was disappointed, for the 
 wind was to her so contrary that she lay at the sea-side, 
 tarrying for a convenient wind, from November till April. 
 And so the said earl, when he had long tarried for her at 
 the sea-side, was fain to return without speed of his pur- 
 pose."
 
 280 THK WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 more mischief." "The queen," said the Lancas- 
 trians, " is kept away, and her journey prevented, 
 by Friar Bungey, the Duchess of Bedford, and other 
 sorcerers and necromancers." 
 
 All winter the queen and prince were compelled 
 to wait patiently for fair winds to waft them to the 
 shores of England; and while in this position they 
 learned, with some degree of alarm, that Edward of 
 York had landed at Ravenspur, and that Clarence, 
 breaking faith with Warwick, had been reconciled 
 to his brother. But, however anxious at this in- 
 telligence, they were not seriously apprehensive of 
 the consequences. Margaret knew, to her cost, the 
 influence which Warwick exercised in England, and, 
 sanguine by nature, she could hardly doubt that he 
 would prove victorious in the event of a struggle. 
 The prince, though intelligent and accomplished, 
 was young and inexperienced ; and he had been 
 taught by Louis to believe that the alliance of War- 
 wick and Margaret would conquer all obstacles. 
 
 At length, when the winter passed and the spring 
 came, when the winds were still and the sea calm, 
 the queen and the Prince of Wales embarked once 
 more, and left the French coast behind. Landing 
 at Weymouth on the 14th of April, they went to 
 the Abbey of Cearne to repose from the fatigues of 
 their voyage before taking their way to the capital, 
 where they anticipated a joyous welcome. But a
 
 MARGARET'S DISAPPOINTMENT. 281 
 
 bitter disappointment was reserved for the royal 
 wanderers. The prince, instead of finding a throne 
 at Westminster, was doomed to fill a bloody grave 
 at Tewkesbury. Margaret, instead of entering Lon- 
 don in triumph, was led thither a captive, when a 
 terrible defeat had destroyed hope, and a tragic ca- 
 tastrophe had dissipated ambition.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF BARNET. 
 
 MEMORABLE was the spring of 1471 destined to 
 be in the history of England's baronage, and in the 
 annals of the Wars of " the pale and the purple 
 rose." 
 
 From the day that the warriors of the White 
 Rose thanks to Montagu's supineness in the cause 
 of the Red were allowed to pass the Trent on their 
 progress southward, a great battle between Edward 
 and Warwick became inevitable ; and as the king, 
 without any desire to avoid a collision with the earl, 
 led a Yorkist army toward London, the earl, with 
 every determination to insist on a conflict with the 
 king, mustered a Lancastrian army at Coventry. 
 
 England, it was plain, could not, for many days 
 longer, hold both Edward and Warwick. Each 
 was animated by an intense antipathy to the other, 
 and both panted for the hour that was to bring their 
 mortal feud to the arbitrament of the sword. The 
 circumstances were altogether unfavorable to com- 
 promise or delay ; and events hurried on with a ra- 
 pidity corresponding to the characters of the rival 
 chiefs. While Edward Plantagenet was taking pos-
 
 THE EVE OF CONFLICT. 283 
 
 session of London, Richard Neville was advancing, 
 by the high northern road, toward the capital ; and, 
 almost ere the king had time to do more than re- 
 move his spouse from' the sanctuary of Westminster 
 to Baynard's Castle, the trumpet of war summoned 
 him to an encounter with the king-maker. 
 
 Warwick's rendezvous was Coventry ; and to that 
 city, at the earl's call, hastened thousands of men, to 
 repair the loss which he had sustained by the defec- 
 tion of Clarence. Thither came Henry of Exeter 
 and Edmund Somerset ; and John De Vere, Earl 
 of Oxford, with a host of warriors devoted to the 
 house of Lancaster ; and John Neville, Marquis of 
 Montagu, who, although not supposed to relish the 
 company of Lancastrians, appeared eager in his 
 brother's quarrel to sacrifice the prejudices of his 
 life and redeem the fatal error he had committed at 
 Pontefract. 
 
 At this stage of affairs, the Duke of Clarence en- 
 deavored to open a door for the earl's reconciliation 
 to the king. Such an attempt was indeed hopeless ; 
 but the duke, perhaps suffering some twinges of 
 conscience on account of his treachery, sent to ex- 
 cuse himself for changing sides, and to entreat War- 
 wick to make peace with Edward. His message 
 was treated with lofty scorn. " I would rather," 
 said the earl, "die true to myself, than live like 
 that false and perjured duke ; and I vow not, until
 
 284 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 I have either lost my life or subdued mine enemies, 
 to lay down the sword to which I have appealed." 
 
 With a resolution not to be broken, Warwick, 
 with Oxford leading his van, marched from Coven- 
 try ; and, hoping to arrest the Yorkist army ere the 
 king was admitted into London, he advanced south- 
 ward with all speed, Learning, however, that the 
 archbishop had proved false, and that the citizens 
 had proved obsequious, the earl, on reaching St. Al- 
 bans, halted to allow his men to repose from their 
 fatigues, and on Saturday moved forward to Barnet, 
 standing on a hill midway between St. Albans and 
 London. Here the earl, resolving to await the ap- 
 proach of his royal foe, called a halt ; and, having 
 ordered his vanguard to take possession of the little 
 town, he encamped on a heath known as Glads- 
 muir, and forming part of an extensive chase, stock- 
 ed with beasts of game. 
 
 The king did not long keep the earl waiting. No 
 sooner did the martial monarch hear that his great 
 foe had left Coventry and was approaching the me- 
 tropolis, than he girded on his armor, with a heart 
 as fearless of the issue as had animated the mighti- 
 est of his ancestors when, on a summer morning, he 
 marched to Evesham to strike down the puissance 
 of Simon de Montfort. It was with no faint hopes 
 of success, indeed, that, at the head of an army de- 
 voted to his cause, Edward, clad in magnificent ar-
 
 A NOCTURNAL CANNONADE. 285 
 
 mor, and mounted on a white steed, with crimson 
 capari.-ons, lined with blue and embroidered with 
 flowers of gold, rode out of London, cheered by the 
 good wishes of the citizens, surrounded by the com- 
 panions of his exile, and attended by George of 
 Clarence, whom he could not prudently trust else- 
 where, and by Henry of Windsor, whom he could 
 not safely leave behind. 
 
 On the afternoon of Saturday Edward left Lon- 
 don, and late in the evening of that day he reached 
 Barnet. As the Yorkist army approached the town, 
 the king's outriders, meeting those of the earl, chased 
 them past the embattled tower of the church dedi- 
 cated to St. John, and advanced till, through the 
 darkness, they perceived the army of Warwick. On 
 being informed that the earl was so near, the king 
 ordered his army to move through Barnet, and en- 
 camped in the darkness, close to the foe, on Glads- 
 muir Heath. The king took up his quarters for the 
 night in the town, and his soldiers lay on the heath. 
 They had no sleep, however, for so near was the 
 Lancastrian camp that the voices of men and the 
 neighing of horses were distinctly heard. 
 
 Both armies had artillery; and Warwick's guns 
 were, during the night, fired perseveringly at the 
 foe. The king, it appears, did not reply to this 
 salutation. Indeed, Edward early discovered that 
 the Lancastrians were unaware of the exact position
 
 280 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 of the Yorkist army, and thanked his stars that such 
 was the case ; for, though Edward's intention had 
 been to place his men immediately in front of their 
 foes, the darkness had prevented him from perceiv- 
 ing the extent of Warwick's lines, and thus it hap- 
 pened that, while ranging his forces so as far to out- 
 stride the earl's left wing, he had failed to place them 
 over against the right. Seldom has an error in war 
 proved so fortunate for a general. The earl hap- 
 pened to have all his artillery posted in the right 
 division of his army, and concluded that the York- 
 ists were within reach. Edward, as the fire from 
 Warwick's guns flashed red through the darkness, 
 saw the advantage he had unintentionally gained, 
 and issued strict orders that none of his guns should 
 be fired, lest the enemy " should have guessed the 
 ground, and so leveled their artillery to his annoy- 
 ance." This precaution was successful, and the 
 earl's gunners thundered till daybreak without pro- 
 ducing any effect. 
 
 Ere the first streak of day glimmered in the sky, 
 the armies were in motion ; and when the morning 
 of Easter Sunday dawned, a flourish of trumpets 
 and a solemn tolling from the bell of the Church of 
 St. John aroused the inhabitants of Barnet, and an- 
 nounced that the game of carnage was about to be- 
 gin. The weather was by no means favorable for 
 that display of martial chivalry which, in sunshine,
 
 MORNING OF EASTER SUNDAY. 287 
 
 the field would have presented to the eyes of spec- 
 tators. The morning was damp and dismal. A 
 thick fog overshadowed the heath ; and the mist 
 hung so closely over both armies that neither York- 
 ists nor Lancastrians could see their foes, save at 
 intervals. The fighting men of that age were as 
 superstitious as their neighbors ; and the soldiers on 
 both sides concluded that the mists had been raised 
 to favor the king by Friar Bungey, the potent ma- 
 gician whose spells were supposed to have raised the 
 wind that kept Margaret of Anjou from the shores 
 of England. 
 
 Nevertheless, at break of day the earl ordered his 
 trumpets to sound, and proceeded to set his men in 
 battle order. The task was one of no small delica- 
 cy ; but it seems to have been performed with great 
 judgment. Though Warwick was the soul and 
 right arm of the Lancastrian army, the battle was 
 so arranged as to give no umbrage to the time-tried 
 champions of the Ked Rose. The centre host, con- 
 sisting chiefly of ai'chei's and bill-men, was com- 
 manded by Somerset ; Oxford, Avho appears to have 
 been trusted by the Lancastrians, shared the com- 
 mand of the right wing with the conqueror of Hex- 
 ham ; and, in command of the left, Exeter, who had 
 helped to lose battle after battle, had the distinction 
 of participating with " the setter-up and plucker- 
 down of kings."
 
 288 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Meanwhile, Edward had roused himself from his 
 repose, arrayed himself royally for the battle, placed 
 on his head a basnet surrounded with a crown of 
 ornament, mounted his white charger in that age 
 regarded as the symbol of sovereignty and taken 
 the field to vindicate his right to the throne of his 
 two great namesakes who reposed at Westminster 
 in the Confessor's Chapel. 
 
 Edward, in marshaling his army, had to contend 
 with none of the difficulties that beset Warwick. 
 The Yorkist army was devoted to his cause, as the 
 chief of the White Rose ; and the captains shared 
 each other's political sympathies and antipathies. 
 Moreover, they were the king's own kinsmen and 
 friends kinsmen who had partaken of his prosper- 
 ity, and were eager to contribute to his triumph 
 friends who had accompanied him into exile, and 
 were ready to die in his defense. Under such cir- 
 cumstances, the disposition of the Yorkist army was 
 easily made. Edward, keeping the fickle Clarence 
 and the feeble Henry in close attendance, took the 
 command of the centre, and was opposed to that 
 part of the Lancastrian forces commanded by Som- 
 erset. At the head of the right wing was placed 
 Gloucester, though still in his teens, to cope with 
 Exeter, the husband of his sister, and AVnruii-k, the 
 sworn friend of his sire. At the head of the left 
 was posted Hastings, to face his brothers-in-law,
 
 A FIGHT IN A FOG. 289 
 
 Oxford and Montagu. Besides these divisions, the 
 king kept a body of choice troops in reserve to ren- 
 der aid, as the day sped on, where aid should be 
 most required. 
 
 Agreeably to the custom of the period, the king 
 and the earl addressed their adherents, each assert- 
 ing the justice of liis cause Edward denouncing 
 the patrician hero as rebel and traitor ; while War- 
 wick branded his royal adversary as usurper and 
 tyrant. This ceremony over, the hostile armies 
 joined battle. At first fortune with fickle smile 
 favored the Lancastrians. The error made by the 
 Yorkists in taking up their position on the previous 
 evening now caused them serious inconvenience. 
 In fact, the Lancastrian right wing, composed of 
 horsemen, so overlapped the king's troops opposed 
 to them that Oxford and Montagu were enabled to 
 crush Hastings as in a serpent's fold. The Yorkist 
 left wing was completely discomfited ; and many of 
 the men spurred out of the fog, escaped from the 
 field, dashed through Barnet, galloped along the 
 high north road to London, and excused their flight 
 by reporting that the earl had won the day. 
 
 The conclusion at which the fugitives had arrived 
 was quite premature. Indeed, could these doughty 
 champions of the White liose have seen what was 
 passing in other parts of the field, they would prob- 
 ably have postponed their ride to the capital. Fear- 
 T
 
 290 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ful difficulties encompassed the right wing of the 
 Lancastrian army. Gloucester was proving how- 
 formidable a war-chief a Plantagenet could be even 
 in his teens, and enacting his part with such skill 
 and courage as would have done credit to warriors 
 who had led the Yorkists to victory at Towton and 
 Northampton. With an eye that few things es- 
 caped, the boy-duke availed himself of the advan- 
 tage which Montagu and Oxford had turned to such 
 account in their struggle with Hastings ; and, urg- 
 ing on the assault with characteristic ferocity, he 
 succeeded in placing his adversaries in the unfortu- 
 nate predicament to which the left wing of the 
 Yorkists had already been reduced. At the same 
 time, the Lancastrians opposed to Gloucester were 
 dispirited by the fall of Exeter, who sunk to the 
 ground wounded with an arrow ; and so dense con- 
 tinued the fog over Gladsmuir Heath that they were 
 not even consoled with the knowledge of Oxford's 
 signal success. Edward, however, early became 
 aware that his left wing had been destroyed, and 
 charged the Lancastrian centre with such vigor as 
 threw Somerset's ranks into confusion. 
 
 The ignorance of the Lancastrians as to the suc- 
 cess of their right wing, was not the only disadvan- 
 tage they suffered from the fog. The soldiers con- 
 sidered the dense watery vapors not as ordinary ex- 
 halations, but as supernatural means used by Friar
 
 OXFORD AND HIS CAVALRY. 291 
 
 Bungey to aid the Yorkist cause ; and, from the 
 beginning, the gloom had been decidedly favorable 
 to Edward's operations. Ere the battle long con- 
 tinued, the fog did better service to the king than 
 could have been rendered to him by hundreds of 
 knights. 
 
 Among the retainers of feudal magnates of that 
 age it was the fashion to wear a badge to indicate 
 the personage whose banner they followed. From 
 the time of the Crusades the badge of the house of 
 De Vere had been a star with streams ; and from 
 the morning of Mortimer's Cross, the cognizance of 
 the house of York had a sun in splendor. At Bar- 
 net, Oxford's men had the star embroidered on their 
 coats ; Edward's men the sun on their coats. The 
 devices bore such a resemblance that, seen through a 
 fog, one might easily be mistaken for the other ; and 
 it happened that on Gladsmuir Heath there was such 
 a mistake. 
 
 When Oxford had pursued the Yorkists under 
 Hastings to the verge of the Heath, it occurred to 
 him that he might render a signal service to his 
 party by wheeling round and smiting Edward's cen- 
 tre in the flank. Unfortunately some Lancastrian 
 archers, who perceived without comprehending this 
 movement, mistook De Vere's star, in the mist, for 
 Edward's sun, drew their bows to the head, and 
 sent a flight of shafts rattling against the mail of the
 
 292 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 approaching cavalry. Oxford's horsemen instantly 
 shouted ' ; Treason ! treason ! we are all betrayed !" 
 and Oxford, amazed at such treatment from his own 
 party, and bewildered by the cry of "Treason!" 
 that now came from all directions, concluded that 
 there was foul play, and rode off the field at the 
 head of eight hundred men. 
 
 The plight of the Lancastrians was now rapidly 
 becoming desperate ; and Edward hastened their 
 ruin by urging fresh troops upon their disordered 
 ranks. Warwick, however, showed no inclination 
 to yield. " The Stout Earl" in fact had been little 
 accustomed to defeat ; and such was the terror of 
 his name that, on former occasions, the cry of "A 
 Warwick ! A Warwick !" had been sufficient to 
 decide the fate of a field. But at St. Albans, at 
 Northampton, and at Towton Field, the earl's tri- 
 umphs had been achieved over Beauforts, Hollands, 
 and Tudors, men of ordinary courage and average 
 intellect. At Barnet he was in the presence of a 
 warrior of prowess and a war-chief of pride, whose 
 heart was not less bold, and whose eye was still 
 more skillful than his own. 
 
 Edward, in fact, could not help perceiving that 
 nothing but a violent effort was now required to 
 complete his victory. Up to this stage he appears 
 to have issued commands to his friends with the 
 skill of a Plantagenet : he now executed vengeance
 
 EDWARD'S CHARGE. 293 
 
 on his foes with the cruelty of a Mortimer. Mount- 
 ed on his white steed, with his teeth firmly set, the 
 spur pressing his horse's side, and his right hand 
 lifted up to slay, he charged the disheartened Lan- 
 castrians, bearing down all opposition ; and, instead 
 of crying, as on former occasions, " Smite the cap- 
 tains, but spare the commons !" he said, " Spare 
 none who favor the rebel earl !" 
 
 While the king's steed was bearing him over the 
 field, and his arm was doing fearful execution on the 
 foe, the king-maker's operations were, unfortunately 
 for the Lancastrian cause, limited to a single spot. 
 In former battles, with a memorable exception, 
 Warwick had fought on horseback. When mount- 
 ed, the earl had been in the habit of riding from 
 rank to rank to give orders, of breaking, with his 
 sword or his battle-axe in hand, into the enemy's 
 lines, with the cry of " A Warwick ! A Warwick !" 
 and encouraging his army by deeds of prowess, 
 wherever the presence of a daring leader was most 
 necessary. At Barnet, however, he had been pre- 
 vailed on to dismount, and send his steed away, that 
 he might thus, as when he killed his horse at Tow- 
 ton, prove to his adherents that he was determined 
 never to leave the field till he was either a conqueror 
 or a corpse. Most unfortunate for the earl proved 
 this deviation from his ordinary custom, when the 
 day wore on and the men grew weary, and looked
 
 291 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 in vain for the presence of their chief to cheer their 
 spirits and sustain their courage. 
 
 It was seven o'clock when the fight began. Long 
 ere noon both wings of the Lancastrian army had 
 vanished, and the chiefs of the Red Rose had disap- 
 peared from the field. Oxford had fled to avoid 
 being betrayed. Somerset had fled to escape death. 
 Exeter, abandoned by his attendants, lay on the cold 
 heath of Gladsmuir among the dead and dying. 
 But Warwick was resolved that the battle should 
 only terminate with his life ; and, at the head of the 
 remaining division, opposed to the Yorkists whom 
 Edward commanded in person, the earl posted him- 
 self for a final effort to avert his doom. Montagu, 
 it would appear, was by his brother's side. 
 
 More furiously than ever now raged the battle ; 
 and far fiercer than hitherto was the struggle that 
 took place. Opposed more directly to each other 
 than they had previously been, the king and the 
 earl exerted their prowess to the utmost one ani- 
 mated by hope, the other urged by despair. The 
 example of such leaders was not, of course, lost ; and 
 men of all ranks in the two armies strained every 
 nerve, and struggled hand to hand with their ad- 
 versaries. 
 
 ' Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, 
 
 As fearlessly and well." 
 On both sides the slaughter had been considera-
 
 WARWICK'S LAST STRUGGLE. 205 
 
 ble. On Edward's side Lord Say and Sir John 
 Lisle, Lord Cromwell and Sir Humphrey Bourchier, 
 with about fifteen hundred soldiers, bit the dust. 
 On Warwick's side twenty-three knights, among 
 whom was Sir William Tyrrel, and three thousand 
 fighting men fell to rise no more. At length, after 
 a bloody and obstinate contest had been maintained, 
 Edward saw that the time had arrived to strike a 
 sure and shattering blow. There still remained a 
 body of Yorkists who had been kept in reserve for 
 any emergency. The king ordered up these fresh 
 troops, and led them to the assault. Warwick front- 
 ed this new peril with haughty disdain ; and, in ac- 
 cents of encouragement, appealed to his remaining 
 adherents to persevere. " This," said he, " is their 
 last resource. If we withstand this one charge the 
 field will yet be ours." But the earl's men, jaded 
 and fatigued, could not encounter such fearful odds 
 with success ; and Warwick had the mortification 
 of finding that his call was no longer answered by 
 his friends, and that his battle-cry no longer sounded 
 terrible to his foes. 
 
 Warwick could not now have entertained any de- 
 lusions as to the issue of the conflict. He was con- 
 quered, and he must have felt such to be the case. 
 The disaster was irremediable, and left him no hope. 
 The descendant of Cospatrick did not stoop to ask 
 for mercy, as Simon de Montfort had done under
 
 29G THE \VARs> OF THE ROSES. 
 
 somewhat similar circumstances, only to be told 
 there was none for such a traitor ; nor did he, by a 
 craven flight, tarnish the splendid fume which he had 
 won on many :i sti'icken field. Life, in fact, could 
 not any longer have charms for him ; and, ceasing to 
 hope for victory, he did not feel any wish lo .survive 
 defeat. A glorious death only awaited the king- 
 maker such a death as history should record in 
 words of admiration and- poets celebrate in strains 
 of praise. 
 
 Under such circumstances, the great earl ventured 
 desperately into the thickest of the conflict ; and, 
 sword in hand, threw himself valiantly among count- 
 less enemies. Death, which he appeared to seek, 
 did not shun him ; and he faced the king of terrors 
 with an aspect as fearless as he had ever presented 
 to Henry or to Edward. The king-maker died as 
 he had lived. In the melancholy hour which closed 
 his career betrayed by the wily archbishop ; de- 
 serted by the perjured Clarence; abandoned on the 
 field by his new allies ; and conquered by the man 
 whom he had set on a throne even in that hour, 
 the bitterest perhaps of his life, Warwick was War- 
 wick still ; and Montagu, perhaps caring little to 
 survive the patriot earl, rushed in to his rescue, and 
 fell by his side. 
 
 Naturally enough, the Yorkists breathed more 
 freely after Warwick's fall ; and, with some reason,
 
 THE TOMB OF WARWICK. 297 
 
 they believed that the last hopes of Lancaster had 
 been trodden out on the field of Barnet. Edward, 
 as he rode from the scene of caraage toward Lon- 
 don, imagined his throne absolutely secure ; and, not 
 dreaming that ere a few days he would have to gird 
 on his armor for a struggle hardly less severe than 
 that out of which he had come a conqueror, the king 
 made a triumphal entry into the capital, repaired to 
 St. Paul's, presented his standard as an offering, and 
 returned thanks to GOD for giving him such a vic- 
 tory over his enemies. 
 
 The bodies of Warwick and Montagu were placed 
 in one coffin, conveyed to London, and exposed for 
 three days at St. Paul's, that all who desired might 
 assure themselves that the great earl and his brother 
 no longer lived. Even Warwick's death did not ap- 
 pease Edward's hatred ; and he would have cared 
 little to refuse interment befitting the earl's rank 
 to the corpse of the departed hero. The king, how- 
 ever, mourned the death of Montagu ; and, from re- 
 gard to the memory of the marquis, he ordered that 
 both brothers should be laid among their maternal 
 ancestors. 
 
 During the fourteenth century, one of those Earls 
 of Salisbury, whose name is associated with the era 
 of English chivalry and with the noblest of European 
 orders, had founded an abbey at Bisham, in Berk- 
 shire. This religious house, which stood hard by
 
 298 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the River Thames, and had become celebrated as 
 the sepulchre of the illustrious family which the 
 king-maker, through his mother, represented, was 
 chosen as the last resting-place of Warwick and 01 
 the brother who fought and fell with him at Bar- 
 net. At the Reformation, Bisham Abbey was de- 
 stroyed ; and, unfortunately, nothing was left to 
 mark the spot where repose the ashes of " The Stout 
 Earl," whom. Shakspeare celebrates as the " proud 
 setter-up and puller-down of kings."
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 BEFORE TEWKESBUKY. 
 
 IT was Easter Sunday, in the year 1471, and the 
 battle of Barnet had been fought. Exeter lay 
 stretched among the dead and the dying on the 
 blood-stained heath of Gladsmuir ; Oxford was spur- 
 ring toward the north ; Somerset was escaping to- 
 ward the west ; Henry of Windsor had been led 
 back to his prison in the Tower; the bodies of 
 Warwick and Montagu were being conveyed in one 
 coffin to St. Paul's ; and Edward of York was at the 
 metropolitan cathedral, offering his standard upon 
 the altar, and returning thanks to GOD for his vic- 
 tory over the Red Rose of Lancaster and the flower 
 of the ancient nobility, when Margaret of Anjou 
 once more set foot on the shores of England. Nor, 
 in circumstances so inauspicious, did she arrive as 
 a solitary victim. Accompanied by the son of the 
 captive king and the daughter of the fallen earl, 
 and attended by Lord Wenlock, Sir John Fortescue, 
 and the Prior of St. John's, came the Lancastrian 
 queen on that day when the wounded were dying, 
 and the riflers prying, and the ravens flying over the 
 field of Barnet.
 
 300 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 At Weymouth, on the coast of Devon, Margaret 
 landed with the Prince and Princess of Wales. 
 From Weymouth, the ill-starred queen was escort- 
 ed to the Abbey of Cearnc, a religious house in the 
 neighborhood. While at Cearne, resting from the 
 fatigues of her voyage, she Avas informed of the de- 
 feat of the Lancastrians and the death of Warwick. 
 
 Margaret had hitherto, through all perils and 
 perplexities, been sustained by her high spirit. She 
 had won the reputation of being one of the race of 
 steel, who felt her soul brighten in danger, and who 
 never knew fear without such a feeling being suc- 
 ceeded by a blush at having yielded to such weak- 
 ness. Oa hearing of the defeat at Barnet, however, 
 she evinced the utmost alarm, raised her hands to 
 heaven, closed her eyes, and, in a state of bewilder- 
 ment, sunk swooning to the ground. Her first 
 idea, on recovering consciousness, was to return to 
 France ; but, meanwhile, for the sake of personal 
 safety, she hastened to the Abbey of Beaulieu, in 
 Hampshire, and registered herself and her whole 
 party as persons availing themselves of the privilege 
 of sanctuary. 
 
 A rumor of the queen's arrival reached the chiefs 
 of the Red Rose party ; and to Beaulieu, without 
 delay, went Somerset, with his brother, John Beau- 
 fort, whom the Lancastrians called Marquis of 
 Dorset, and John, Earl of Devon, head of the great
 
 MARGARET AT BEATLIKT. 301 
 
 house of Courtenaj. These noblemen found Mar- 
 garet plunged in grief, and resolved on returning to 
 France till GOD should send her better fortune. 
 Their presence, however, in some degree, revived 
 the courage which had so often shone forth in ad- 
 versity ; and Somerset strongly urged her to brave 
 fortune and the foe on another field. With the ut- 
 most difficulty Margaret was brought to consent to 
 the proposal, and even then she hesitated and grew 
 pale. Indeed, the ill-fated heroine confessed that 
 she feared for her son, and intimated her wish that 
 he should be sent to France, there to remain till a 
 victory had been won. But to this scheme decided 
 opposition was expressed. Somerset and the Lan- 
 castrian lords argued that the Prince of Wales should 
 remain in England to lead the adherents of the Red 
 Rose to battle, " he being," as they said, " the morn- 
 ing sun of the Lancastrian hopes, the rays of which 
 were very resplendent to meet English eyes;" and 
 the royal boy, we can well believe, was prepared 
 rather to die at once on a field of fame, than live 
 through years of exile to expire in inglorious ob- 
 scurity. 
 
 At length Margaret yielded to the general wish, 
 and the Lancastrian chiefs formed their plans for 
 mustering an army. No insuperable difficulties 
 pri'.-enti'd themselves. Shortly before Barnet was 
 fought, John Beaufort and the Earl of Devon had
 
 302 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 gone westward from Coventry to levy forces, and 
 Jasper Tudor had been sent into Wales on a similar 
 errand. The idea of the Lancastrians was to draw 
 together the men enlisted in the west, to join Jasper 
 Tudor, who was still zealously recruiting in Wale?, 
 to secure the services of the archers in which Lan- 
 cashire and Cheshire abounded, and to summon the 
 prickers of the northern counties to that standard 
 under which they had conquered at Wakefield and 
 Bernard's Heath. The plan of campaign was, as 
 we shall hereafter see, such as to place Edward's 
 throne in considerable peril ; and the imaginations 
 of the Lancastrian chiefs caught fire at the prospect 
 of triumph. Somerset openly boasted that the Bed 
 Rose party was rather strengthened than enfeebled 
 by Warwick's fall ; and Oxford, who had recovered 
 from the bewilderment which had lost his friends a 
 victory at Barnet, wrote to his countess, AVarwick's 
 sister, " Be of good cheer, and take no thought, for 
 I shall bring my purpose about now by the grace 
 of GOD." 
 
 Unfortunately for the champions of the Red Rose, 
 they had to contend with no ordinary antagonist. 
 Almost ere they had formed their plans, the king 
 was aware that they were in motion ; and, some- 
 what alarmed, he faced the new danger with the en- 
 ergy and spirit that had laid Warwick low. Within 
 a week after his victory at Barnet, Edward, having
 
 EDWARD AT WINDSOR. 303 
 
 placed Henry of Windsor securely in the Tower, and 
 also committed George Neville, Archbishop of York, 
 to the metropolitan fortress, marched from London 
 with such forces as were at hand ; and at Windsor, 
 within the castle of his regal ancestors, he remained 
 nearly a week to celebrate the feast of St. George, 
 to await the remainder of his tixtops, and to obtain 
 such intelligence of the enemy's movements as might 
 enable him to defeat their project. As yet the king 
 was utterly uncertain whether the Red Eose chiefs 
 intended marching toward London or leading their 
 adherents northward. His predicament was, there- 
 fore, awkward. If he hastened on to protect the 
 north from being invaded, he left London at their 
 mercy ; if he remained to guard the capital, he left 
 the north free to their incursions. The king's great 
 object, under such circumstances, was to bring the 
 Lancastrians to battle at the earliest possible period. 
 His army, indeed, was small ; but, as affairs then 
 were, he had little hope of its being increased ; and 
 he appears to have placed much reliance on the 
 artillery, with which he was well provided. But, 
 anxious as Edward might be to meet his foes face 
 to face, he checked his natural impetuosity, and de- 
 clined to advance a mile without having calculated 
 the consequences. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Lancastrian standard was set up 
 at Exeter, and to " the London of the West" the
 
 304 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 men of Devon, Somerset, and Cornwall wen? invited 
 to repair. The Red Rose din-is perfectly compre- 
 hended the dilemma in which Kdwnrd was placed, 
 and were prepared to act just as circumstances ren- 
 dered safe and expedient. If they could draw their 
 potent foe from the neighborhood of London, they 
 would march on the metropolis. If they could keep 
 him in the neighborhood of London, they would 
 cross the Severn, join Jasper Tudor, march into 
 Lancashire and Cheshire, and raise the men of the 
 north to overturn the Yorkist, throne. One thing 
 they did not desire that was an early meeting with 
 the conqueror of Towton and Barnet. 
 
 At Exeter, Margaret of Anjou, with the Prince 
 and Princess of "Wales, joined the adherents of the 
 Red Rose, and prepared for those military opera- 
 tions which, she hoped, would hurl Edward of York 
 from the throne. Ere venturing upon the terrible 
 task, however, the queen, with the Lancastrian 
 chiefs, made a progress throughout the west to col- 
 lect recruits. From Exeter she proceeded with this 
 object to Bath, a town which then consisted of a few 
 hundreds of houses, crowded within an old wall, 
 hard by the Avon, and which derived some renown 
 from those springs whose healing qualities Bladud 
 had discovered under the guidance of hogs, and 
 whose virtues had recommended the place to the 
 Romans when they came to Britain as resistless con- 
 querors.
 
 THE WEST IX ARMS. 305 
 
 At Bath, Margaret's friends learned that Edward 
 was watching her movements with a vigilance that 
 rendered an early junction with Jasper Tudor ex- 
 tremely desirable; and, having considerably in- 
 creased in number, the Lancastrians took their way 
 to Bristol, a town with strong walls, which the 
 Flemings, brought over by Philippa of Hainault, 
 had made the seat of an extensive woolen trade. 
 
 The inhabitants of Bristol had manifested much 
 loyalty to Edward, when, during the harvest-time 
 of 1462, the young Yorkist king appeared within 
 their walls, and executed Sir Baldwin Fulford and 
 other Lancastrians. Since that event, celebrated by 
 Chatterton as " The Bristowe Tragedy," well-nigh 
 nine years had elapsed, and, during that time, their 
 attention had been attracted from the Wars of the 
 Roses to a war nearer home. It is probable that 
 the contentions of York and Lancaster had excited 
 less interest than the feud between the houses of 
 Berkeley and Lisle ; and that the field of Barnet 
 had created less excitement than that of Nibley 
 Green, where, one March morning in 1470, William 
 Lord Berkeley and Thomas Talbot, Lord Lisle, 
 fought that battle known as " The English Chevy 
 Chase." 
 
 But, however loyal the citizens of Bristol might 
 be to Edward of York, they knew that Margaret 
 of Anjou was not a woman to be trifled with ; and, 
 U
 
 306 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 however little they might relish the spectacle of 
 Lancastrian warriors crowding their streets, they 
 were ready enough to furnish the Red Rose chiefs 
 with money, provisions, and artillery. After re- 
 ceiving these supplies, the Lancastrian queen, anx- 
 ious to cross the Severn, relieved Bristol of her 
 presence on the 2d of May it was a Thursday 
 and led her army toward that valley which, of old, 
 had been depicted by William of Malmesbury as rich 
 in fruit and corn, and abounding in vineyards. 
 
 The king's pursuit of his enemies had, in the mean 
 time, been at once absorbing as a game of chess and 
 exciting as a fox-hunt. For a time, he was unable 
 to comprehend their movements, and forced to act 
 with extreme caution. Indeed, Edward was not un- 
 aware that the Lancastrian leaders were exercising 
 their utmost energy to outwit him ; and he knew 
 full well that one false step on his part would, in 
 all likelihood, decide the campaign in their favor. 
 At length, becoming aware that they were spread- 
 ing rumors of their intention to advance to London 
 by Oxford and Reading, the king concluded that 
 their real intention was to march northward ; and, 
 leading his army forth from Windsor, he encamped 
 at Abingdon, a town of Berkshire, on the River 
 Thames. Learning, at Abingdon, that Margaret 
 and her captains were still at Wells, he moved a 
 little northward to Cirencester, in Gloucestershire,
 
 THE KING ON THE ALERT. 307 
 
 and was then informed that the Lancastrians were 
 about to leave Bath and give him battle on the 1st 
 of May the anniversary of his ill-judged and ill- 
 starred marriage. 
 
 Eager for a conflict, the king marched his army 
 out of the town of Cirencester, and, encamping in 
 the neigboring fields, awaited the arrival of his foes. 
 Edward soon found, however, that he had been de- 
 ceived ; and, in hopes of finding them, marched to 
 Malmesbury, in Wiltshire. Learning, at that town, 
 that the Lancastrians had turned aside to Bristol, 
 he went to Sodbury, a place about ten miles dis- 
 tant from the emporium of the west : and, at Sod- 
 bury, from the circumstances of his men, while rid- 
 ing into the town to secure quarters, encountering a 
 body of the enemy's outriders, and the Lancastrians 
 having sent forward men to take their ground on 
 Sodbury Hill, he believed that their army was at no 
 great distance. Eager for intelligence, Edward sent 
 light horsemen to scour the country, and encamped 
 on Sodbury Hill. About midnight on Thursday, 
 scouts came into the camp, and Edward's suspense 
 was terminated. It appeared beyond doubt that the 
 Lancastrians were on full march from Bristol to 
 Gloucester ; and the king, awake to the crisis, lost 
 no time in holding a council of war. A decision 
 was rapidly arrived at ; and a messenger dispatched 
 post-haste to Richard, Lord Beauchamp of Powicke,
 
 308 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 then Governor of Gloucester, with instructions to 
 refuse the Lancastrians admittance and a promise 
 to relieve the city forthwith in case of its being as- 
 sailed. 
 
 Events now hastened rapidly onward. The king's 
 messenger had no time to lose ; for the Lancastrian 
 army, having marched all night, was pushing on to- 
 ward the vale of Gloucester. The vale, as the read- 
 er may be aware, is semicircular the Severn form- 
 ing the chord, the Cotswold Hills the arc ; and 
 Cheltenham, Gloucester, and Tewkesbury making a 
 triangle with its area. Into the second of these 
 towns Margaret expected to be admitted ; and she 
 calculated on being enabled, under the protection 
 of its walls and castle, to pass the Severn without 
 interruption, and to form a junction with Jasper 
 Tudor, who was all bustle and enthusiasm in Wales. 
 
 A grievous disappointment awaited the Lancas- 
 trian army a bitter mortification the Lancastrian 
 queen. On Friday morning, a few hours after sun- 
 rise, Margaret of Anjou, with the warriors of the 
 Red Rose, appeared before Gloucester. But Beau- 
 champ, having received Edward's message, positive- 
 ly refused to open the gates ; and when Margaret, 
 with a heavy heart, turned aside and proceeded to- 
 ward Tewkesbury, he still farther displayed his 
 Yorkist zeal by hanging on the rear of the Lancas- 
 trians, and doing them all the mischief he could.
 
 THE MARCH. 30'J 
 
 Even Somerset must have confessed that the aspect 
 of affairs was now the reverse of bright ; and, after 
 leaving Gloucester behind, every thing began to go 
 wrong. The march lay through woods and lanes, 
 and over stony ground ; and the soldiers, hungry 
 and foot-sore, were oppressed with the heat of the 
 weather. Moreover, the peasantry, inclined, for 
 some reason or other, to oppose the progress of the 
 Lancastrians, secured the fords by which the Severn 
 might have been crossed ; and Beauchamp not only 
 harassed the rear of the queen's army, but succeed- 
 ed in capturing some artillery, which she was in no 
 condition to spare. At length, on Friday after- 
 noon, after having marched thirty-six miles, with- 
 out rest, and almost without food, the Lancastrians, 
 weary and dispirited, reached Tewkesbury, a little 
 town standing on the left bank of the Severn, and 
 deriving some dignity from a Norman abbey, known 
 far and wide as the sepulchre of a mighty race of 
 barons, whose chiefs fought at Evesham and fell at 
 Bannockburn. At this place, Avhich had been in- 
 herited from the De Clares, through Beauchamps 
 and Despensers, by the Countess of Warwick, the 
 Lancastrian leaders halted to refresh their men. 
 
 Early on that morning, when the queen and her 
 captains appeared before Gloucester, Edward left 
 Sodbury, and led his army over the Cotswolds, 
 whose sheep and shepherds old Drayton has cele-
 
 310 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 brated. His soldiers suffered much from heat, and 
 still more for want of water ; only meeting, on their 
 way, with one brook, the water of which, as men and 
 horses dashed in, was soon rendered unfit for use. 
 Onward, however, in spite of heat and thirst, as if 
 prescient of victory, pressed Edward's soldiers, some- 
 times within five miles of their enemies the York- 
 m a champaign country, and the Lancastrians 
 among woods but the chiefs of both armies direct- 
 ing their march toward the same point. At length, 
 after having marched more than thirty miles, the 
 Yorkists reached a little village situated on the 
 River Chelt, secluded in the vale of Gloucester, and 
 consisting of a few thatched cottages forming a 
 straggling street near a church with an ancient 
 spire, which had been erected in honor of St. Mary 
 before the Plantagenets came to rule in England. 
 At this hamlet, which the saline springs, discovered 
 some centuries later by the flight of pigeons, have 
 metamorphosed into a beautiful and luxurious city, 
 Edward halted to recruit the energies and re- 
 fresh the spirits of his followers. At Cheltenham 
 the king received intelligence that the foe was at 
 Tewkesbury ; and, marching in that direction, he 
 encamped for the night in a field hard by the Lan 
 castrian camp. 
 
 Ere the king reached Cheltenham the Lancastri- 
 ans had formed their plans. On arriving at Tewkes-
 
 A NIGHT BY THE SEVERN. 311 
 
 bury. Somerset, aware that the Yorkists were fast 
 approaching, intimated his intention to remain and 
 give Edward battle. Margaret, as if with the pre- 
 sentiment of a tragic catastrophe, was all anxiety to 
 cross the Severn ; and many of the captains sym- 
 pathized with their queen's wish. Somerset, how- 
 ever, carried his point ; and, indeed, it is not easy to 
 comprehend how the Lancastrians could, under the 
 circumstances, have attempted a passage without ex- 
 posing their rear to certain destruction. Somerset's 
 opinion on any subject may not have been worth 
 much ; but he does not appear to have been in the 
 wrong when he decided on encamping at Tewkes- 
 bury, and when he declared his intention there to 
 abide such fortune as GOD should send. 
 
 So at Tewkesbury, through that summer night, 
 within a short distance of each other, the armies of 
 York and Lancaster, under the sons of those who, 
 years before, had plucked the roses in the Temple 
 Garden, and encountered with mortal hatred in the 
 streets of St. Albans, animated moreover by such 
 vindictive feelings as the memory of friends and 
 kinsmen slain in the field and executed on the scaf- 
 fold could not fail to inspire, awaited the light of 
 another day, to fight their twelfth battle for the 
 crown of England.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE FIELD OF TEWKESBURV. 
 
 ON Saturday the 4th of May, 1471, ere the bell 
 of Tewkcsbury Abbey tolled " the sweet hour of 
 prime," or the monks had assembled to sing the 
 morning hymn, King Edward was astir and making 
 ready to attack the Lancastrians. 
 
 Mounted on a brown charger, with his magnifi- 
 cent person clad in Milan steel, a crown of oi'na- 
 ment around his helmet, and the arms of France 
 and England quarterly on his shield, the king set 
 his men in order for the assault. The van of the 
 Yorkist army was committed to Richard, Duke of 
 Gloucester, whose skill and courage on the field of 
 Uarnet had made him, at nineteen, the hero among 
 those of whom, at thirty, he was to be the heads- 
 man. The centre host Edward commanded in per- 
 son ; and by the side of the royal warrior figured 
 the ill-starred Clarence, never again to be fully 
 trusted by his brother. The rear was intrusted to 
 the guidance of Lord Hastings, and to Elizabeth 
 Woodville's eldest son, Thomas Grey, Marquis of 
 Dorset. Thus arrayed, flushed with recent victory 
 over mighty adversaries, the Yorkist warriors, in all
 
 PRELIMINARIES. 313 
 
 tliu pride of valor, and all the confidence of victory, 
 prepared to advance upon their foes. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Red Rose chiefs were not idle. 
 Having encamped south of the town of TewJces- 
 burj, on some rising ground, part of which is still 
 known as " Queen Margaret's Camp," the Lancas- 
 trians appear to have made the most of their ad- 
 vantages. Defended as they were in their rear by 
 the Abbey, and in front and on both sides by 
 hedges, lanes, and ditches, they intrenched their 
 position strongly, in the hope of keeping Edward at 
 bay till the arrival of Jasper Tudor, who was be- 
 lieved to be rapidly approaching ; and, at the same 
 time, they left openings in their intrenchments, 
 through which, should such a course seem expe- 
 dient, they might sally forth upon the assailing foe. 
 
 Their camp thus fortified, the Lancastrian leaders 
 disposed the army of the Red Rose in three divisions. 
 Of the first of these Somerset, aided by his brother, 
 John Beaufort, took the command ; the second was 
 committed to the auspices of Edward, Prince of 
 Wales, the Prior of St. John, and Lord Wenlock, 
 who, having shared the Lancastrian defeat at St. 
 Albans and the Yorkist triumph at Towton, had 
 once more, in an evil hour, placed Queen Mar- 
 garet's badge on his gorget ; and the third was con- 
 fided to the Earl of Devon, the youngest of three 
 brothers, two of whom, after wearing the coronet of
 
 314 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the Courtenays, had died on the scaffold for their 
 fidelity to the Red Rose. 
 
 While the Lancastrians were forming their line of 
 battje, King Edward gave the order to advance ; and, 
 with banners displayed, with clarions and trumpets 
 sounding a march, and with Gloucester leading the 
 van, and perhaps even then dreaming of a crown, 
 the Yorkist army moved forward, gay with knights 
 and nobles in rich armor and broidered vests, their 
 lances gleaming in the merry sunshine, their plumes 
 and pennons dancing in the morning breeze, and 
 their mailed steeds, with chaffrons of steel project- 
 ing from barbed frontals, caracoling at the touch of 
 the spur. Within a mile of the Lancastrian camp 
 Edward halted his men ; and his large blue eye, 
 which took in the whole position of his enemies, 
 wandered jealously to the park of Tewkesbury, 
 which was situated to the right of Somerset's di- 
 vision. Suspicious of an ambuscade, the Yorkist 
 king dispatched two hundred spearmen from his 
 army to proceed in that direction, and ordered 
 them, in case of their not finding any foe lurking 
 in the wood, to take such part in the battle as cir- 
 cumstances should render expedient. Having sat- 
 isfied himself with this precaution, the king ordered 
 his banners to advance, and his trumpets to sound 
 an onset. 
 
 When the hour of conflict drew nigh, Margaret
 
 MARGARET AND HER SON. 315 
 
 of Anjou, accompanied by the heir of Lancaster, 
 rode along the lines and addressed the adherents of 
 the Red Hose. Never, perhaps, had the daughter 
 of King Rene looked more queenly than on the field 
 of Tewkesbury ; never had she enacted her part 
 with more art than she did on the eve of that catas- 
 trophe which was to plunge her to the depths of 
 despair. Though sick at heart, and more than 
 doubtful as to the issue of the field, she assumed the 
 aspect of perfect confidence, and spoke as if inspired 
 with the hope of victory. Years of trouble had, of 
 course, destroyed those exquisite charms which in 
 youth had made Margaret famous as the beauty of 
 Christendom, but had not deprived her of the power 
 of subduing men to her purposes, even against their 
 better judgment. Though her countenance bore 
 traces of the wear and tear of anxious days and 
 sleepless nights, her presence exercised on the par- 
 tisans of the house of Lancaster an influence not 
 less potent than it had done in days when she pos- 
 sessed a beauty that dazzled all eyes and fascinated 
 all hearts. 
 
 Nor did the heir of Lancaster appear, by any 
 means, unworthy of such a mother, as, armed com- 
 plete in mail, he accompanied her along the lines, 
 his standard borne by John Gower. Imagine the 
 boy-warrior, gifted as he was with all the graces of 
 rank and royalty, frankness and chivalry ; his eye
 
 316 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 sparkling with the pride and valor of the Plantage- 
 nets ; the arms of France and England blazoned on 
 his shield, his tabard, and the caparisons of his horse, 
 and it will not be difficult to conceive the influence 
 which, in spite of his foreign accent, such a grand- 
 son of the conqueror of Agincourt, uttering senti- 
 ments worthy of the pupil of Fortescue in language 
 worthy of the son of Margaret of Anjou, exercised 
 on the Lancastrian host when about to encounter 
 the partisans of the White Rose. 
 
 Margaret of Anjou was not unaware of the effect 
 produced by the fair face and graceful figure of the 
 Prince of Wales. Glancing, with maternal pride, 
 at the royal boy, who rode at her right hand, she 
 reined in her palfrey, and, having with a gesture 
 obtained an audience, she encouraged her partisans, 
 in a voice promising victory, to do their duty val- 
 iantly against Edward of York and prove their cour- 
 age on the crests of the usurper's adherents. " It 
 remained for them, the soldiers of the Red Rose," 
 said the queen, in accents which quickened the pulse 
 and nerved the arm of the listeners, " to restore an 
 imprisoned king to liberty and his throne, and to se- 
 cure for themselves, not only safety, but distinctions 
 and rewards. Did the inequalities of number daunt 
 them ? She could not doubt that their stout hearts, 
 animated by the justice of their cause, would enable 
 them to overcome in spite of disparity. Did they
 
 OPENING OF THE^ BATTLE. 317 
 
 lack motives to be valiant against the foe ? Let 
 them look upon the Prince of Wales, and fight for 
 him, their fellow-soldier, who was now to share their 
 fortune on the field ; and who, once in possession of 
 his rights, would not forget those to whose courage 
 he owed the throne. The kingdom of England 
 should be their inheritance, to be divided among 
 them ; the wealth of the rebellious cities should be 
 their spoil ; they should be rewarded for their de- 
 votion with all those titles which their enemies now 
 proudly wore ; and, above all, they should enjoy last- 
 ing fame and honor throughout the realm." 
 
 An enthusiastic response arose from the ranks of 
 the Lancastrians as their heroic queen concluded 
 her spirit-stirring address ; and the warriors of the 
 Red Rose indicated, by signs not to be mistaken, 
 their alacrity to fight to the death for the rights of 
 such a mother and such a son. Perhaps, at that 
 moment, Margaret, infected with the excitement 
 which her own eloquence had created, almost per- 
 suaded herself to hope. No hour was that, how- 
 ever, to indulge in day-dreams. Ere the enthusi- 
 asm of the Lancastrians had time to die away, Rich- 
 ard of Gloucester had advanced his banner to their 
 camp, and the troops under the young duke were 
 storming the intrenchments. 
 
 Gloucester, as leader of the Yorkist van, found 
 himself opposed to the Lancastrians whom Somer-
 
 318 THE WARS OK THE ROSES. 
 
 set commanded in person ; and, the ferocity of his 
 nature being doubtless inflamed by the hereditary 
 antipathy of the house of York to the house of Beau- 
 fort, he made a furious assault. The onslaught of 
 the stripling war-chief, however, proved of no avail ; 
 for the nature of the ground was such as to prevent 
 the Yorkists from coming hand to hand with their 
 foes, while the Lancastrians, posted among bushes 
 and trees, galled their assailants with showers of ar- 
 rows. Gloucester was somewhat cowed, but his 
 guile did not desert him. He assumed the air of a 
 man who was baffled, pretended to be repulsed, and, 
 retiring from the assault, contented himself with or- 
 dering the artillery, with which the Yorkists wsre 
 better provided than their foes, to play upon the 
 Lancastrian ranks. 
 
 The aspect of the battle was now decidedly in fa- 
 vor of the Red Rose, and such as to cause the York- 
 ists some degree of anxiety. What the Lancastri- 
 ans wanted was a Avar-chief of courage and expe- 
 rience, and Somerset neither had the talents nor the 
 experience requisite for the occasion. At the head 
 of that host on the banks of the Severn, such a man 
 as the fifth Henry, or John, Duke of Bedford, might, 
 by a decisive victory, have Avon back Margaret's 
 crown. But the grandson of Katherine S\vynford 
 had not been intended by GOD and nature to cope 
 with the royal warrior Avho laid Wanvick low.
 
 GLOUCESTER'S STRATAGEM. 319 
 
 Somerset had still to learn his incapacity for the 
 part he had undertaken to enact. As yet he was 
 under the influence of such a degree of vanity as 
 prompted him to the rashest courses. Elate at Glou- 
 cester's retreat, and concluding that a determined 
 effort would render the Lancastrians victorious, the 
 shallow duke led his men through the openings that 
 had been left in their intrenchments. Descending 
 from the elevated ground, he charged Edward's cen- 
 tre host with violence, drove that part of the York- 
 ist army back, and then, with infinitely less prudence 
 than presumption, followed the wily Gloucester into 
 the open meadows, 
 
 Once fairly away from his intrenchments, the 
 Lancastrian leader found too late the error he had 
 committed. Gloucester's stratagem had been at- 
 tended with a success which even he could hardly 
 have anticipated. Suddenly wheeling round and 
 shouting their battle-cry, the boy-duke and the 
 Yorkists turned upon their pursuers with the fury 
 of lions ; and, at the same time, the two hundred 
 spearmen who had been sent to guard against an 
 ambuscade in Tewkesbury Park came rushing to 
 the conflict, and made a vigorous attack upon Som- 
 erset's flank. Taken by surprise, the Lancastrian 
 van fled in disorder. Some made for the park ; 
 some ran toward the meadows ; others flung them- 
 selves into the ditches ; and so many were beaten
 
 320 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 down and slain where they fought, that the green- 
 sward was crimsoned with gore. 
 
 Gloucester did not pause in the work of destruc- 
 tion. After cheering on his men to the carnage, he 
 pursued Somerset up the hill, availed himself of the 
 Lancastrians' confusion to force his way through 
 their intrenchments, and carried into their camp 
 that terror with which his grisly cognizance seldom 
 failed to inspire his enemies. 
 
 The plight of the Lancastrians now became des- 
 perate. Somerset, having lost his followers, lost his 
 temper, and with it every chance of victory. In- 
 deed, the duke appears to have acted the part of a 
 madman. On reaching the camp, flushed and furi- 
 ous, he looked around for a victim to sacrifice to his 
 rage, and made a selection which was singularly un- 
 fortunate for the Lancastrians. Lord \Venlock, it 
 seems, had not left the camp to support Somerset's 
 charge ; and the duke, bearing in mind how recently 
 that nobleman had been converted from the Yorkist 
 cause, rushed to the conclusion that he was playing 
 false. A fearful scene was the result. Biding to 
 the centre division of the Lancastrians, the exasper- 
 ated Beaufort reviled Lord Wenlock in language too 
 coarse to have been recorded, and, after denouncing 
 the aged warrior as traitor and coward, cleft his 
 skull with a battle-axe. 
 
 No incident could have been more unfavorable to
 
 ROUT OF THE LANCASTRIANS. 321 
 
 the fortunes of the Keel Rose than Wenlock's fall by 
 the hand of Somerset. A panic immediately seized 
 the Lancastrians ; and, ere they could recover from 
 their confusion, King Edward perceived his advant- 
 age, cheered his men to the onslaught, spurred over 
 hedge and ditch, and dashed, on his brown charger, 
 fiercely into the intrenched camp. Irresistible we 
 can well imagine the onset of that horse and that 
 rider to have been the strong war-steed, with his 
 frontal of steel, making a way through the enemy's 
 disordered ranks, and the tall warrior dispersing all 
 around with the sweep of his terrible sword. Vain 
 was then the presence of the Prince of Wales, gal- 
 lant as the bearing of the royal boy doubtless was. 
 Indeed, all the princes of John of Gaunt's lineage 
 could not now have turned the tide of fight. After 
 a faint struggle, the Lancastrians recoiled in con- 
 sternation ; and, throwing down their arms, fled be- 
 fore Edward and his knights as deer before the 
 hunters. The rout was rapid and complete. The 
 field presented a fearful scene of panic, confusion, 
 and slaughter. Some of the vanquished ran for 
 refuge into Tewkesbury ; others betook themselves 
 for safety to the abbey church ; and many, hotly 
 pursued and scarcely knowing whither they went, 
 were drowned "at a mill in the meadow fast by 
 the town." 
 
 Somerset, on seeing the ruin his rashness had 
 X
 
 322 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 brought on his friends, fled from the scene of car- 
 nage. The duke ought not, perhaps, to have avoid- 
 ed the destruction to which he had allured so many 
 brave men. The chief of the Beaufort?, however, 
 had no ambition to die like the great earl whom he 
 had deserted at Barnet, nor to fall on the field to 
 which he had challenged his hereditary foe. It is 
 wonderful, indeed, that a man who had known little 
 of life save its miseries should have cared to sur- 
 vive such a defeat ; but Somerset, whatever his other 
 qualities, had none of that spirit which, at Bannock- 
 burn, prompted Argentine to exclaim, " 'Tis not my 
 wont to fly !" At Hexham and at Barnet, Somer- 
 set's principal exploits had consisted of availing him- 
 self of the speed of his horse to escape the foe ; and 
 at Tewkesbury he rushed cravenly from the field, 
 on which, a few hours earlier, he had boastfully de- 
 clared that he would abide such fortune as GOD 
 should send. The Prior of St. John, Sir Gervasi- 
 Clifton, Sir Thomas Tresham, and a number of 
 knights and esquires likewise sought safety in flight. 
 The Prince of Wales had hitherto fought with 
 courage; and there is some reason to believe that 
 he fell fighting manfully on the field where so much 
 blood was shed to vindicate his claims to the crown 
 of England. Poets, novelists, and historians have, 
 however, told a different tale, and produced an im- 
 pression that, when the heir of Lancaster found him-
 
 THE CARNAGE. 323 
 
 Self abandoned by Somerset, and perceived the for- 
 tune of the day decidedly adverse to the Red Rose, 
 he followed the multitude, who, shrinking from the" 
 charge of Edward on his berry-brown steed, and of 
 Gloucester with his boar's-head crest, fled confused- 
 ly toward the town. 
 
 But, however that may have been, all the war- 
 riors of the Red Rose did not fly. Destruction, in- 
 deed, awaited every man who stood his ground ; but 
 even the certainty of death can not daunt those who 
 are inspired by honor. Knights and nobles, after 
 fighting with courage, fell with disdainful pride, and 
 hundreds upon hundreds of the Lancastrians of in- 
 ferior rank lost their lives in the cause for which, at 
 the summons of their chiefs, they had taken up 
 arms. There fell the Earl of Devon ; and John 
 Beaufort, the brother of Somerset, and, save the 
 duke, the last male heir of the house of Beaufort ; 
 and Sir John Delves, the chief of a family long set- 
 tled at Doddington, in the County Palatine of Ches- 
 ter; and Sir William Fielding, whose descendants, 
 in the time of the Stuarts, became Earls of Den- 
 bigh ; and Sir Edmund Hampden, one of that an- 
 cient race which had flourished in the eleventh cen- 
 tury, and which, in the sixteenth, produced the re- 
 nowned leader of the Long Parliament. 
 
 At length, when three thousand Lancastrians had 
 ierished on the field of Tewkesbury, the resistance
 
 324 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 and carnage came to an end ; and Edward, having 
 knighted Warwick's cousin, George Neville, the heir 
 of Lord Abergavenny, sheathed his bloody sword, 
 and Gloucester laid aside his lance ; and the king 
 and the duke rode to the abbey church to render 
 thanks to GOD for giving them another victory over 
 their enemies.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE VICTOR AND THE VANQUISHED. 
 
 WHILE Edward of York was smiting down his 
 foes on the field of Tewkesbury, and the blood of 
 the Lancastrians was flowing like water, a chariot, 
 guided by attendants whose looks indicated alarm 
 and dread, might have been observed to leave the 
 scene of carnage, and pass hurriedly through the 
 gates of the park. In this chariot was a lady, who 
 appeared almost unconscious of what was passing, 
 though it had not been her wont to faint in hours 
 of difficulty and danger. The lady was Margaret 
 of Anjou, but with a countenance no longer ex- 
 pressing those fierce and terrible emotions which, 
 after Northampton, and Towton, and Hexham, had 
 urged her to heroic ventures in order to regain for 
 her husband the crown which her son had been 
 born to inherit. Pale, ghastly, and rigid more like 
 that of a corpse than of a being breathing the breath 
 of life was now that face, in which the friends of 
 the Lancastrian queen had in such seasons often 
 read, as in a book, resolutions of stern vengeance to 
 be executed on her foes. 
 
 Fortune, indeed, had at length subdued the high
 
 32C THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 spirit of Margaret of Anjou, and she made no effort 
 to resist her fate. When witnessing the battle, and 
 becoming aware that her worst anticipations were 
 being realized, the unfortunate queen appeared reek- 
 loss of life, and abandoned herself to despair. Alarm- 
 id, however, at the dangers which menaced the van- 
 quished, Margaret's attendants placed their royal 
 mistress in a chariot, conveyed her hastily from the 
 field, and made their way to a small religious house 
 situated near the left bank of the silver Severn : 
 there she found, the Princess of Wales and several 
 Lancastrian ladies, who had followed the fortunes 
 of the Red Rose and shared the perils of their kins- 
 men. No need to announce to them that all was 
 lost. Even if the disastrous intelligence had not 
 preceded her arrival, they would have read in Mar- 
 garet's pale face and corpse-like aspect the ruin of 
 her hopes and of their own. 
 
 The religious house in which the queen found a 
 temporary resting-place was not one which could 
 save her from the grasp of the conquering foe. But 
 so sudden had been the rout of one party, and so 
 signal the victory of the other, that the vanquished 
 had no time to think of escaping to a distance. The 
 abbey church was- the point toward which most 
 of the fugitives directed their course, and within 
 the walls of that edifice Somerset, the Prior of St. 
 John, Sir Henry de Roos, Sir Gervase Clifton, Sir
 
 EDWARD OK LANCASTER. 327 
 
 Thomas Tresham, many knights and esquires, and 
 a crowd of humble adherents of the Red Rose, 
 sought refuge from the sword of the conquerors. 
 Unhappily for the Lancastrians, the church did not 
 possess the privilege of protecting rebels, and Ed- 
 ward was in no humor to spare men who had shown 
 themselves his bitter foes. Without scruple, the 
 victor-king, on finding they had taken refuge in the 
 abbey, attempted to enter, sword in hand ; but at 
 this point he found himself face to face with a pow- 
 er before which kings had often trembled. At the 
 porch, a priest, bearing the host, interposed between 
 the conqueror and his destined victims, and protest- 
 ed, in names which even Edward durst not disre- 
 gard, against the sacred precincts being made the 
 scene of bloodshed. Baffled of his prey, Edward 
 turned his thoughts to the heir of Lancaster, and 
 issued a proclamation, promising a reward to any 
 who should produce the prince, dead or alive, and 
 stating that in such a case the life of the royal boy 
 would be spared. 
 
 Among the warriors who fought at Tewkesbury 
 was Sir Richard Croft, a Marchman of Wales. 
 This knight was husband of a kinswoman of the 
 Yorkist princes, and had figured as Governor of 
 Ludlow when Edward, then Earl of March, was 
 residing during boyhood in that castle with his 
 brother, the ill-fated Rutland. Passing, after the
 
 328 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 battle of Tewkesbury, between the town and the 
 field, Croft encountered a youthful warrior, whose 
 elegance arrested his attention, and whose manner 
 was like that of one strange to the place. On be- 
 ing accosted, the youth, in an accent which revealed 
 a foreign education, acknowledged that he was the 
 heir of Lancaster ; and, on being assured that his 
 life was in no hazard, he consented to accompany 
 the stalwart Marchman to the king. 
 
 Toward the market-place, a triangular space 
 where met the three streets that gave to Tewkes- 
 bury the form of the letter Y, Croft conducted his 
 interesting captive. Tewkesbury has little changed 
 since that time ; but the old Town Hall, which then 
 stood in the market-place, has disappeared. It 
 was to a house in the neighborhood of this build- 
 ing, however, that the king had repaired after the 
 battle, and there, surrounded by Clarence and Glou- 
 cester, Hastings and Dorset, the captains who had 
 led his host to victory, sat Edward of York when 
 Edward of Lancaster was brought into his pres- 
 ence. 
 
 The king had that morning gained a victory 
 which put his enemies under his feet, and had 
 since, perhaps, washed down his cravings for re- 
 venge with draughts of that cup to which he was 
 certainly too much addicted. It is not difficult to 
 believe thoe historians who tell that, under such
 
 0> THE VANQUISHED.
 
 THE TWO EDWARDS. 331 
 
 circumstances, satiated with carnage, and anxious 
 for peace and repose, he was in a frame of mind 
 the reverse of unfavorable to his captive, nor even 
 to credit an assertion that the wish of Ed\vard of 
 York was to treat the heir of the fifth Henry as 
 that king had treated the last chief of the house of 
 Mortimer, to convert the prince from a dangerous 
 rival into a sure friend, and to secure his grati- 
 tude by bestowing upon him the Duchy of Lancas- 
 ter and the splendid possessions of John of Gaunt. 
 To the vanquished prince, therefore, the victor-king 
 " at first showed no uncourteous countenance." A 
 minute's conversation, however, dissipated the king's 
 benevolent intentions, and sealed the brave prince's 
 fate. 
 
 " What brought you to England," asked Edward, 
 " and how durst you enter into this our realm with 
 banner displayed ?" 
 
 " To recover my father's rights," fearlessly an- 
 swered the heir of Lancaster ; and then asked, 
 " How darest thou, who art his subject, so pre- 
 sumptuously display thy colors against thy liege 
 lord ?" 
 
 At this reply, which evinced so little of that dis- 
 cretion which is the better part of valor, Edward's 
 blood boiled ; and, burning with indignation, he sav- 
 agely struck the unarmed prince in the mouth with 
 his gauntlet. Clarence and Gloucester are said to
 
 332 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 have then rushed upon him with their swords, and 
 the king's servants to have drawn him into another 
 room and completed the murder. In the house 
 where, according to tradition, this cruel deed was 
 perpetrated, marks of blood were long visible on 
 the oaken floor ; and these dark stains were pointed 
 out as memorials of the cruel murder of the fifth 
 Henry's grandson, by turns the hope, the hero, and 
 the victim of the Lancastrian cause. 
 
 Having imbrued his hands in the blood of the 
 only rival whom he could deem formidable, and too 
 fearfully avenged the murder of Kutland, Edward 
 appears to have steeled his heart to feelings of mer- 
 cy, and to have determined on throwing aside all 
 scruples in dealing with his foes. It was only de- 
 cent, however, to allow Sunday to elapse ere pro- 
 ceeding with the work of vengeance. That day of 
 devotion and rest over, the Lancastrians were forci- 
 bly taken from the church. Those of meaner rank 
 were pardoned ; but Somerset, the Prior of St. John, 
 Sir Henry de Roos, Sir Gervase Clifton, Sir Thomas 
 Tresham, John Gower, and the other knights and 
 esquires, were brought to trial. Gloucester and 
 John Mowbray, the last of the great Dukes of Nor- 
 folk, presided, one as Constable of England, the 
 other as Earl-marshal ; and the trial being, of 
 course, a mere form, the captives were condemned 
 to be beheaded.
 
 QUEEN MARGARET. 333 
 
 On Tuesday, while the scaffold was being erected 
 in the market-place of Tewkesbury for the execution 
 of those who had risked all in her cause, Margaret 
 of Anjou was discovered in the religious house to 
 which she had been conveyed from the field on 
 which her last hopes were wrecked. The Lancas- 
 trian queen was brought to Edward by Sir William 
 Stanley, still zealous on the Yorkist side, and little 
 dreaming of the part he was to take at Bosworth in 
 rendering the Red Rose finally triumphant. Mar- 
 garet's life was spared ; but her high spirit was 
 gone, and, on being informed of her son's death, the 
 unfortunate princess only gave utterance to words 
 of lamentation and woe. Now that he around 
 whom all her hopes had clustered was no more, 
 what could life be to her? what the rival Roses? 
 what the contentions of York and Lancaster? Her 
 ambition was buried in the grave of her son, who 
 had been her consolation and her hope. 
 
 Sir John Fortescue was among the Lancastrians 
 whom the victory of Tewkesbuiy placed in Ed- 
 ward's power; and the great lawyer was in some 
 danger of having to seal with his blood his devotion 
 to the Red Rose. Fortescue, however, had no long- 
 ings for a crown of martyrdom ; and Edward, luck- 
 ily for his memory, perceived that the house of York 
 would lose nothing by sparing a foe so venerable 
 and so learned. It happened that, when in Scot-
 
 331 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 land, Fortescue had produced a treatise vindicating 
 the claims of the house of Lancaster to the English 
 crown, a.id the king consented to pardon the ex- 
 chief-justice if he would wi*ite a similar treatise in 
 favor of the claims of the line of York. The con- 
 dition was hard ; but that was an age when, to bor- 
 row old Fuller's phrase, it was present drowning 
 not to swim with the stream ; and Fortescue, con- 
 senting to the terms, applied himself to the arduous 
 task. The difficulty was not insuperable. In his 
 argument for Lancaster he had relied much on the 
 fact of Philippa of Clarence having never been ac- 
 knowledged by her father. In his argument for 
 York he showed that Philippa's legitimacy had 
 been proved beyond all dispute. On the produc- 
 tion of the treatise his pardon was granted ; and 
 the venerable judge retired to spend the remainder 
 of his days at Ebrington, an estate which he pos- 
 sessed in Gloucestershire. 
 
 About the time that Fortescue received a pardon, 
 John Morton, who, like the great lawyer, had fought 
 on Towton Field, and since followed the ruined for- 
 tunes of Lancaster, expressed his readiness to make 
 peace with the Yorkist king. In this case no diffi- 
 culty was interposed. Edward perceived that the 
 learning and intellect of the " late parson of Blokes- 
 worth" might be of great service to the government. 
 Morton's attainder was therefore reversed at the
 
 EXECUTION OF THE LANCASTRIANS. 335 
 
 earliest possible period, and lie soon after became 
 Bishop of Ely. 
 
 Meanwhile, on the scaffold erected in the market- 
 place of Tewkesbmy, the Lancastrians were be- 
 headed, the Prior of St. John appearing on the 
 mournful occasion in the long black robe and white 
 cross of his order. No quartering nor dismember- 
 ing of the bodies, however, was practiced, nor were 
 the heads of the vanquished set up in public places, 
 as after Wakefield and Towton. The bodies of 
 those who died, whether on the field or the scaf- 
 fold, were handed over to their friends or servants, 
 who interred them where seemed best. Most of 
 them, including those of the Prince of Wales, Dev- 
 on, Somerset, and John Beaufort, were laid in the 
 abbey church ; but tho corpse of Wenlock was 
 removed elsewhere, probably to be buried in the 
 Wenlock Chapel, which he had built at Luton ; 
 and that of the prior was consigned to the care of 
 the great fraternity of religious knights at Clerken- 
 well, of which he had been the head. 
 
 After wreaking his vengeance upon the conquer- 
 ed, Edward moved northward to complete his tri- 
 umph, and forgot for a while the blood he had 
 shed. Years after, however, when laid on his 
 death-bed, the memory of those executions appears 
 to have lain heavy upon his conscience, and he 
 mournfully expressed the regret which they caused
 
 336 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 him. " Such things, if I had foreseen," said he, 
 "as I have with more pain than pleasure proved, 
 by GOD'S Blessed Lady I would never have won 
 the courtesy of men's knees with the loss of so 
 many heads."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 WARWICK'S VICE-ADMIRAL. 
 
 ONE day in May, 1471, while Edward of York 
 was at Tewkesbury, while Henry of Windsor was a 
 captive in the Tower, and while Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville and her family were also lodged for security in 
 the metropolitan fortress thus at once serving the 
 purposes of a prison and a palace a sudden com- 
 motion took place in the capital of England, and 
 consternation appeared on the face of every citizen. 
 The alarm was by no means causeless, for never had 
 the wealth of London looked so pale since threaten- 
 ed by the Lancastrian army after the battle on Ber- 
 nard's Heath. 
 
 Among the English patricians who, at the be- 
 ginning of the struggle between York and Lancaster, 
 attached themselves to the fortunes of the White 
 Rose, was William Neville, son of Ralph, Earl of 
 Westmoreland, brother of Cicely, Duchess of York, 
 and uncle of Richard, Earl of Warwick. This York- 
 ist warrior derived from the heiress whom he had 
 married the lordship of Falconbridge ; and, after 
 leading the van at Towton, he was rewarded by 
 Edward with the earldom of Kent. Dying soon 
 Y
 
 333 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 after, he was laid at rest, with obsequies befitting 
 his rank, in the Priory of Gisborough, and his lands 
 were inherited by his three daughters, one of whom 
 was the wife of Sir John Conyers. 
 
 The Earl of Kent left no legitimate son to inherit 
 his honors ; but he left an illegitimate son, named 
 Thomas Neville, and known, after the fashion of the 
 age, as " The Bastard of Falconbridge." The mis- 
 fortune of Falconbridge's birth, of course, prevented 
 him from becoming his father's heir ; but, being " a 
 man of turbulent spirit and formed for action," he 
 had no idea of passing his life in obscurity. His 
 relationship to Warwick was not distant ; and " The 
 Stout Earl," duly appreciating the courage and vigor 
 of his illegitimate kinsman, nominated him vice-ad- 
 miral, and appointed him to prevent Edward receiv- 
 ing any aid from the Continent. 
 
 While Warwick lived, Falconbridge appears to 
 have executed his commission on the narrow seas 
 with fidelity and decorum. But when Barnet had 
 been fought, and the vice-admiral had no longer the 
 fear of the king-maker before his eyes, the narrow 
 seas saw another sight. Throwing off all restraint, 
 he took openly to piracy, and, joined by some mal- 
 contents from Calais, went so desperately to work, 
 that in a marvelously short space of time he made 
 his name terrible to skippers and traders. Falcon- 
 bridge was not, however, content with this kind of
 
 FALCONBRIDGE'S AMBITION. 339 
 
 fame. He had always believed himself destined to 
 perform some mighty achievement, and he now found 
 his soul swelling with an irresistible ambition to at- 
 tempt the restoration of Lancaster. The peril at- 
 tending such an exploit might, indeed, have daunted 
 the boldest spirit ; but the courage of the Bastard 
 was superlative, and his audacity was equal to his 
 courage. 
 
 The enterprise of Falconbridge Avas not at first 
 so utterly desperate as subsequent events made it 
 appear. The Lancastrians were not yet quite sub- 
 dued. Oxford was still free and unsubdued ; Pem- 
 broke was in arms on the marches of Wales ; and 
 the men of the north, on whom Edward's hand had 
 been so heavy, were arming to take revenge on their 
 tyrant, and liberate from his grasp the woman who, 
 with her smiles and tears, had in other days tempt- 
 ed them to do battle in her behalf. If, under these 
 circumstances, Falconbridge could take Heniy out 
 of prison, proclaim the monk-monarch once more in 
 London, and send northward the news of a Lancas- 
 trian army being in possession of the capital, he 
 might change the destiny of England, and enroll his 
 own name in the annals of fame. 
 
 No time was lost in maturing the project. Land- 
 ing at Sandwich, Falconbridge was admitted into 
 Canterbury, and prepared to march upon the me- 
 tropolis. His adventure soon began to wear a hope-
 
 310 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ful aspect. Indeed, his success was miraculous ; 
 for, as he made his way through Kent, the army, 
 which originally consisted of the desperadoes of the 
 Cinque Ports and the riff-raff of Calais, swelled till 
 it numbered some seventeen thousand men. Post- 
 ing this formidable host on the Surrey side of the 
 Thames, and, at the same time, causing his ships to 
 secure the river above St. Katherine's, Falconbridge 
 demanded access to the city, that he might take 
 Henry out of the Tower, and then pass onward to 
 encounter the usurper. 
 
 The mayor and aldermen, however, sorely per- 
 plexed, determined to stand by the house of York, 
 and sent post-haste to inform the king that London 
 was menaced by land and water, and to implore 
 him to hasten to the relief of his faithful city. Ed- 
 ward, who, to awe the northern insurgents, had pro- 
 ceeded as far as Coventry, forthwith sent fifteen 
 hundred men to the capital ; and, on meeting the 
 Earl of Northumberland, who came to assure him 
 of the peace of the north, the king turned his face 
 southward, and hurried toward London. 
 
 Meanwhile the patience of Falconbridge had given 
 way. Enraged at the refusal of the Londoners to 
 admit his army, and anxious to gratify the appetite 
 of his followers for plunder, the Bastard expressed 
 his intention of passing the Thames with his army 
 at Kingston, destroying Westminster, and then tak-
 
 THE STORMING OF LONDON. 341 
 
 ing revenge on the citizens of London for keeping 
 him without their gates. Finding, however, that 
 the wooden bridge at Kingston was broken down, 
 and all the places of passage guarded, he drew his 
 forces into St. George's Fields, and from that point 
 prepared to carry London by assault. 
 
 His plan thus formed, Falconbridge commenced 
 operations with characteristic energy. After carry- 
 ing his ordnance from the ships, he planted guns and 
 stationed archers along the banks of the Thames. 
 At first considerable execution was done. Many 
 houses were battered down by the ordnance, and 
 London experienced much inconvenience from the 
 flight of arrows ; but the citizens soon showed that 
 this was a game at which two parties could play. 
 Having brought their artillery to the river-side, and 
 planted it over against that of their assailants, they 
 returned the fire with an effect so galling, that the 
 adherents of the vice-admiral found their position 
 intolerable, and retreated in confusion from their 
 guns. 
 
 Falconbridge was not the man to despair early 
 of the enterprise upon which he had ventured. See- 
 ing his men fall back in dismay, he resolved on prose- 
 cuting the assault in a more direct way, and on go- 
 ing closely to work with his antagonists. He re- 
 solved, moreover, on making a great attempt at Lon- 
 don Bridge, and, at the same time, ordered his lieu-
 
 34-2 THE WARS OF THK ROSI> 
 
 tenants Spicing and Quintinc to embark three 
 thousand men, pass the Thames in ships, and force 
 Aldgate and Bishopgate. The desperadoes, cross- 
 ing the river, acted in obedience to their leader's 
 orders, and London was at once assailed suddenly 
 at three separate points. But the Londoners con- 
 tinued obstinate. Encouraged by the news of Ed- 
 ward's victory, and incited to valor by the example 
 of Robert Basset and Ralph Jocelyne, aldermen of 
 the city, they faced the peril with fortitude, and 
 offered so desperate a defense, that seven hundred 
 of the assailants were slain. Repulsed on all points, 
 and despairing of success, the Bastard was fain to 
 beat a retreat. 
 
 Baffled in his efforts to take the capital by storm, 
 Falconbridge led his adherents into Kent, and en- 
 camped on Blackheath. His prospects were not 
 now encouraging ; and for three days he remained 
 in his camp without any new exploits. At the end 
 of that time he learned that Edward was approach- 
 ing, and doubtless felt that the idea of trying con- 
 clusions at the head of a mob with the army that 
 had conquered at Barnet and Tewkesbury was not 
 to be entertained. The undisciplined champions of 
 the Red Rose, indeed, dispersed at the news of Ed- 
 ward's coming, as pigeons do at the approach of a 
 hawk; and their adventurous leader, having taken 
 to his ships, that lay at Blackwall, sailed for Sand- 
 wich.
 
 DEATH OF THE MONK-MONARCH. 343 
 
 On Tuesday, the 21st of May, seventeen days after 
 Tewkesbury, Edward of York, at the head of thirty 
 thousand men, entered London as a conqueror, and 
 in his train to the capital came Margaret of Anjon 
 as a captive. The broken-hearted queen found her- 
 self committed to the Tower, and condemned as a 
 prisoner of state to brood, without hope and with- 
 out consolation, over irreparable misfortunes and 
 intolerable woes. 
 
 On Wednesday morning it was that of Ascen- 
 sion Day the citizens of London, who some hours 
 earlier had been thanked for their loyalty to Ed- 
 ward of York, were informed that Henry of Lan- 
 caster had been found dead in the Tower, and soon 
 after the corpse was borne bare-faced, on a bier, 
 through Cheapside to St. Paul's, and there exposed 
 to the public view. Notwithstanding this ceremony, 
 rumors were current that the dethroned king had 
 met with foul play. People naturally supposed 
 that Falconbridge's attempt to release Henry pre- 
 cipitated this sad event ; and they did not fail to 
 notice that on the morning when the body was con- 
 veyed to St. Paul's the king and Kichard of Glou- 
 cester left London.* 
 
 * "Of the death of this prince," says Fabyan, "divers 
 tales were told; but the most common fame went, that he 
 was sticked with a dagger by the hands of the Duke of 
 Gloucester."
 
 344 THK WARS OF THF. KOSF.S 
 
 A resting-place beside his hero-sire, in the Chapel 
 of St. E^dward, might have been allowed to the only 
 king since the Conquest who had emulated the Con- 
 fessor's sanctity. But another edifice than the Ab- 
 bey of Westminster was selected as the place of 
 sepulture ; and, on the evening of Ascension Day, 
 the corpse, having been placed in a barge guarded by 
 soldiers from Calais, was conveyed up the Thames, 
 and, during the silence of midnight, committed to 
 the dust in the Monastery of Chertsey. It was not 
 at Chertsey, however, that the saintly king was to 
 rest. When years had passed over, and Richard 
 had ascended the tin-one, the mortal remains of 
 Henry were removed from Chertsey to Windsor, 
 and interred with much pomp in the south side of 
 the choir in St. George's Chapel, there to rest, it 
 was hoped, till that great day, for the coming of 
 which he had religiously prepared by the devotion 
 of a life. 
 
 After consigning Margaret to the Tower and 
 Henry to the tomb, Edward led his army from 
 London, marched to Canterbury, and prepared to 
 inflict severe punishment on Falconbridge. Mean- 
 while, as vice-admiral, Falconbridge had taken pos- 
 session of Sandwich, where forty-seven ships obeyed 
 his command. With this naval force, and the town 
 fortified in such a way as to withstand a siege, the 
 Bastard prepared for resistance ; but, on learning
 
 END OF FALCON BRIDGE. 345 
 
 that the royal array had reached Canterbury, his 
 heart began to fail, and he determined, if possible, 
 to obtain a pardon. With this object, Falcon- 
 bridge dispatched a messenger to Edward ; and the 
 king was, doubtless, glad enough to get so bold a 
 rebel quietly into his power. At all events, he de- 
 termined on deluding the turbulent vice-admiral 
 with assurances of safety and promises of favor ; 
 and Gloucester was empowered to negotiate a 
 treaty. 
 
 Matters at first went smoothly. The duke rode 
 to Sandwich to assure his illegitimate cousin of the 
 king's full forgiveness, and about the 26th of May 
 Falconbridge made his submission, and promised to 
 be a faithful subject. Edward then honored him 
 with knighthood, and confirmed him in the post of 
 vice-admiral. At the same time, the king granted 
 a full pardon to the Bastard's adherents ; and they, 
 relying on the royal word, surrendered the town 
 of Sandwich, with the castle, and the ships that 
 lay in the port. ' But how this composition Avas 
 observed," says Baker, " may be imagined, when 
 Falconbridge, who was comprised in the pardon, 
 v, :is afterward taken and executed at Southampton. 
 Spicing and Quintine, the captains that assailed Aid- 
 pi te and Bbhopgate, and were in Sandwich Castle 
 ;it the surrender thereof, were presently beheaded at 
 Canterbury, and their heads placed on poles in the
 
 346 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 gates ; and, by a commission of Oyer and Terminer, 
 many, both in Essex and Kent, were arraigned and 
 condemned for this rebellion." 
 
 About Michaelmas, Falconbridge expiated his ill- 
 fated ambition ; and the citizens had the satisfaction, 
 in autumn, of seeing his head exposed to warn mal- 
 contents to beware of Edward of York. " Thomas 
 Falconbridge, his head," says Paston, " was yester- 
 day set upon London Bridge, looking Kentward, 
 and men say that his brother was sore hurt, and 
 escaped to sanctuary to Beverley." So ended the 
 ambitious attempt of Warwick's vice-admiral to 
 play the part of king-maker.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 ESCAPE OF THE TCDORS. 
 
 WHEN the spirit of the Lancastrians had been 
 broken on the fields of Barnet and Tewkesbury, and 
 the violent deaths if such they were of the monk- 
 monarch and his gallant son had left the adherents 
 of the Red Rose without a prince to rally round, the 
 house of York seemed to be established forever. 
 
 That branch of the Plantagenets which owed its 
 origin to John of Gaunt was not, indeed, without 
 an heir. The King of Portugal, the grandson of 
 Philippa, eldest daughter of John and Blanche of 
 Lancaster, was the personage with whom that honor 
 rested ; but Alphonso, albeit a knight-errant in man- 
 hood's prime, not being yet turned of forty, and rich 
 in gold brought from Guinea, was not so utterly in- 
 discreet as to waste his energy and croisadoes on an 
 enterprise in which Warwick, the flower of English 
 patricians and the favorite of the English people, 
 had so signally failed. Moreover, about this time, 
 Alphonso was all anxiety to wed Joan, the youth- 
 ful daughter of the last King of Castile, and make a 
 Quixotic attempt, as husband of that princess, to 
 wrest the Spanish crown from Ferdinand and Isa-
 
 313 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 bella. Thus occupied with projects of love and 
 war, the King of Portugal does not appear to have 
 put forward any claims as heir of elolm of Gaunt, 
 nor, perhaps, did the English nation ever seriously 
 consider his claims. 
 
 The extinction of Henry of Bolingbroke's pos- 
 terity left the Red Rose party without having at its 
 head a king whose name might serve as a rallying 
 cry. But the adherents of the Lancastrian cause, 
 however dispirited, were not utterly subdued. They 
 still cherished vague hopes, and pointed to chiefs of 
 high name ; for John de Vcre, Earl of Oxford, Hen- 
 ry Holland, Duke of Exeter, and Jasper Tudor, Earl 
 of Pembroke, still lived ; and while these noblemen 
 the first so noble, the second so loyal, and the 
 third so wary were free, there was still a prospect 
 of revenge on the usurper. The fact, however, was, 
 that the Lancastrian lords were in a situation far 
 from enviable, and might have been forgiven had 
 they cherished no aspiration more lofty than that 
 of getting safely away from the country, and beyond 
 the reach of Edward's vengeance. 
 
 When intelligence reached Jasper Tudor" that 
 Margaret of Anjou and her captains had been totally 
 routed, far from cherishing any such delusions as 
 imposed upon the rude intellect of Falconbridge, he 
 forthwith allowed his forces to disperse, and, making 
 for the valley of the Wye, took refuge in the strong- 
 hold of Chepstow.
 
 A CELT AND A MARCHMAN. 349 
 
 Situated at the mouth of the most beautiful of 
 English rivers, Chepstow is still an interesting ruin. 
 At that time it was a magnificent castle, stretching 
 along a precipitous cliff, consisting of four courts 
 and a central building, and covering an area of three 
 acres. To this fortress Jasper, in the day of per- 
 plexity, retired to reflect on the past and prepare for 
 the future. 
 
 "While at Chepstow Jasper had a narrow escape. 
 Edward was naturally most anxious to destroy the 
 Lancastrians as a party, and eager, therefore, to get 
 so zealous an adherent of the Red Eose into his 
 power. With a view of entrapping his old adver- 
 sary, he employed Roger Vaughan, one of a clan 
 who, like the Crofts, were ancient retainers of the 
 house of Mortimer, to repair to Chepstow. The 
 contest between the Celt and the Marchman was 
 brief. Jasper was not to be outwitted. He pene- 
 trated the secret of Vaughan's mission, caused him 
 to be seized, and, without formality, had his head 
 struck off. 
 
 Having taken this strong measure, and thereby 
 added to his danger in the event of capture, Jasper 
 proceeded to Pembroke. At that town the out- 
 lawed earl was exposed to new dangers. Pursued 
 to Pembroke by a Welsh warrior named Morgan ap 
 Thomas, he was besieged in the town ; but relief 
 came from a quarter that could hardly have been
 
 350 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 expected. David ap Thomas, who was Morgan's 
 brother, but attached to the Red Rose, rushing to 
 Jasper's assistance, succeeded in raising the siege, 
 and the Welsh earl was freed for the time from 
 pressing peril. But, having lost all feeling of se- 
 curity, and every hope of holding out against Ed- 
 ward, he committed the defense of Pembroke to Sir 
 John Scudamore, took his brother's son Henry, the 
 young Earl of Richmond, under his wing, embarked 
 with the boy at Tenby, and once more as an outlaw 
 and fugitive sailed for the Continent. 
 
 The intention of Jasper and his nephew was to 
 seek protection at the court of Louis, and they steer- 
 ed their course toward the coast of France. But 
 fortune proved unfavorable to this design. Forever 
 the elements fought against the Lancastrians. En- 
 countering contrary winds, the Tudors were driven 
 on the coast of Brittany, and, being compelled to 
 put into a port belonging to the duke, they could 
 not avoid paying their respects to that magnate. 
 The duke received them with courtesy, and treated 
 them with hospitality, and so far all went pleasant- 
 ly. But when the Tudors prepared to pursue their 
 way to France they were given to understand that 
 they were not at liberty to proceed. 
 
 The two earls were somewhat disconcerted on 
 comprehending their actual position. They made 
 the best of circumstances, however ; and, indeed, all
 
 THE WELSH EARLS IN BRITTANY. 351 
 
 things considered, had not much reason to complain. 
 The town of Vannes was assigned them as a resi- 
 dence, and they were treated with the respect deem- 
 ed due to their rank. Except being narrowly watch- 
 ed, their position was not uncomfortable. 
 
 Intelligence of the Tudors being at Vannes was 
 not long confined to Brittany. The news soon 
 reached both Paris and London ; and while the 
 French king claimed them as friends, the English 
 king demanded them as rebels and traitors. The 
 duke, however, firmly adhered to the resolution to 
 keep them to himself; and Edward was fain to ap- 
 pear content, and pay a yearly sum for their sup- 
 port. The duke, on his part, gave assurances that 
 they should have no opportunity of causing disturb- 
 ance to the English government. 
 
 When a few years passed over, circumstances had 
 rendered young Heniy Tudor a more important 
 personage, and Edward made a great effort to ob- 
 taiu their extradition. To accomplish this object, 
 he sent an embassy to Brittany to invite Henry to 
 England, promising him the hand of the Princess 
 Elizabeth. The Duke of Brittany was induced to 
 consent, and Henry repaired to St. Malo to embark. 
 But Peter de Landois, the duke's chief minister, 
 who at that time pretended a high regard for the 
 Tudors, declared that Edward's offer was a snare, 
 and pointed out the impolicy of crediting Edward's
 
 352 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 profession of friendship. The duke was convinced ; 
 and Richmond's embarkation having been delayed 
 by a fever, the result of anxiety, he returned to 
 Vannes. 
 
 And at Vannes, as guest or captive of Brittany 
 he hardly knew which Henry Tudor was destined 
 to remain, till one day the Bishop of Ely and the 
 Duke of Buckingham, conspiring in Brecknock Cas- 
 tle, nominated him a man described by Comines as 
 '" without power, without money, without hereditary 
 right, and without any reputation" as a candidate 
 for the proudest of European thrones.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 ADVENTURES OF JOHX DE VERB. 
 
 OXE autumn day, about six months after the fall 
 of Warwick and Montagu, a little fleet approached 
 the coast of Cornwall, and anchored in the green 
 waters of Mount's Bay. The monks and fighting 
 men who tenanted the fortified monastery that 
 crowned the summit of St. Michael's Mount might 
 have deemed the appearance of the ships slightly 
 suspicious; but the aspect and attire of those who 
 landed from their decks forbade uncharitable sur- 
 mises. Indeed, they were in the garb of pilgrims, 
 and represented themselves as men of rank, who, at 
 the suggestion of their confessors, had come from 
 remote parts of the kingdom to perform vows, make 
 orisons, and offer oblations at the shrine of St. 
 Michael. 
 
 It was the last day of September the festival of 
 St. Keyne, a virgin princess of rare sanctity, who 
 had, in the fifth century, for pious purposes, visited 
 the Mount ; and, on such an occasion, the monks 
 were not likely to be in any very skeptical mood. 
 Proud, in all probability, of their saint's reputation, 
 and not doubting his power to inspire zeal, they 
 2
 
 354 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 opened their gates and admitted the pilgrims. No 
 sooner were they admitted, however, than the scene 
 changed. Each man, throwing aside his pilgrim's 
 habit, stood before the astonished monks a warrior 
 in mail, with a dagger in his girdle, a sword by his 
 side, and in his eye the determination to use those 
 weapons in the event of resistance. At the head of 
 this band was a man of thirty or thereabouts, who 
 announced that he was John De Vere, Earl of Ox- 
 ford, and that he had come to take possession of St. 
 Michael's Mount in the name of Lancaster. 
 
 Between his escape from Barnet and his arrival 
 at St. Michael's Mount the chief of the DC A T eres had 
 passed through some remarkable adventures. When 
 Oxford, bewildered by the consequences of his silver 
 star being mistaken for Edward's sun, and thrown 
 off his guard by the shouts of " Treason !" rode 
 through the mist and fled from the field, he directed 
 his course northward with the intention of seeking 
 refuge in Scotland ; but, after riding some distance, 
 and taking time to reflect, the earl came to the con- 
 clusion that the journey was too long to be accom- 
 plished with safety, and, turning aside, he rode, in 
 the company of Lord Beaumont, toward the Welsh 
 Marches, with the hope of joining Jasper Tudor. 
 Whether or not he reached Wales is not quite clear ; 
 but it appears from a letter written in April to his 
 countess, Warwick's sister, that, after Queen Mar-
 
 OXFORD AFTER BARNET. 355 
 
 garet had landed and her friends had resolved on 
 another campaign, Oxford recovered the spirit he 
 had displayed at Coventry, and indulged in the 
 hope of a Lancastrian triumph. 
 
 " Right reverend and worshipful lady," writes the 
 earl to his countess, " I recommend me to you, let- 
 ting you weet that I am in gi-eat heaviness at the 
 making of this letter ; but, thanked be God, I am 
 escaped myself, and suddenly departed from my men; 
 for I understand my chaplain would have betrayed 
 me .... 
 
 " Ye shall give credence to the bringer of this 
 letter, and I beseech you to reward him to his costs ; 
 for I am not in power at the making of this letter 
 to give him but as I was put in trust by favor of 
 strange people. Also, ye shall send me, in all 
 haste, all the ready money ye can make, and as 
 many of my men as can come well horsed, and that 
 they come in divers parcels. Also, that my best 
 horses be sent with my steel saddles, and bid the 
 yeoman of the horse cover them with leather. 
 
 " Also, ye shall send to my mother and let her 
 weet of this letter, and pray her of her blessing, and 
 bid her send me my casket, by this token, that she 
 hath the key thereof, but it is broken. And ye shall 
 send to the Prior of Thetford, and bid him send me 
 the sum of gold that he said I should have ; also say 
 to him, by this token, that I showed him the first 
 Priw Seal .
 
 356 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 "Also, ye shall be of good cheer, and take no 
 thought ; for I shall bring my purpose about now, 
 by the grace of GOD, who have you in His keep- 
 ing." 
 
 Oxford soon learned the truth of the homely 
 proverb that there is much between the cup and 
 the lip ; and when Tewkesbury extinguished his 
 hopes of victory, the earl, attended by Lord Beau- 
 mont, betook himself to France. His reception in 
 that country not being such as to tempt a prolonged 
 residence, he fitted out a fleet, and for a while made 
 the ocean his home. Indeed, it would seem that, 
 when exiled from his kindred and his castles, the 
 heir of the De Veres reverted to the habits of his 
 Scandinavian ancestors, and that, during the sum- 
 mer of 1471, the thirteenth of the proud earls of 
 Oxford roved the narrow seas as a pirate. About 
 the close of September, however, Oxford, having, in 
 the words of Speede, " gotten stores of provisions by 
 the strong hand at sea," landed in Cornwall ; and 
 with a body of men, whom some chroniclers repre- 
 sent as well-nigh four hundred, and others as K- 
 than a sixth of that number, appeared suddenly at 
 St. Michael's Mount. 
 
 The monks of St. Michael and the soldiers Avho 
 garrisoned the Mount were in no condition to rc.-is; 
 a body of men so determined. They therefore yield- 
 ed without a struggle ; and Oxford set himeelf to
 
 SEIZURE OF ST. MICHAEL'S MOUNT. 357 
 
 the task of repairing the fortifications, getting men 
 and ammunition to defend the Mount in the event 
 of a siege, and procuring provisions to subsist them 
 in case of the operations being prolonged. Men and 
 supplies were both forthcoming, for the earl hap- 
 pened to be grandson of an heiress of Sir Richard 
 Sergeaux of Colquite, and their regard for the mem- 
 ory of that lady made the Cornishmen most eager 
 to prove their devotion to his service. When, there- 
 fore, Oxford or his men descended into the villages 
 adjacent to the Mount, they were received with en- 
 thusiasm, and, in the words of the chronicler, " had 
 good cheer of the inhabitants." 
 
 Oxford's enterprise seemed to have prospered ; 
 but the period was the reverse of favorable for a 
 Lancastrian lord being left in undisturbed possession 
 of a strong-hold. No sooner did Edward hear of 
 the exploit, than he issued a proclamation branding 
 De Vcre and his adherents as traitors ; and, at the 
 same time, he ordered Sir John Arundel, Sheriff of 
 Cornwall, to retake St. Michael's Mount without 
 delay. Arundel raised an army in the locality, ad- 
 vanced to the Mount, and sent a trumpeter to sum- 
 mon Oxford to surrender to the king's mercy, and 
 thus save the effusion of Christian blood. The earl 
 was uninfluenced by the ceremony. He resolutely 
 refused to listen to the conditions. " Rather than 
 yield on such terms," said he, " I and those with me 
 will lose our lives."
 
 353 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 The sheriff, seeing no hope of a capitulation, pro- 
 ceeded to storm the Mount. Oxford, however, far 
 from being daunted, defended the strong-hold with 
 such energy that, after a struggle, the besiegers were 
 beaten at all points and repulsed with loss. Nor 
 was this the worst ; for the garrison, sallying from 
 the outer gate, pursued the assailants down to the 
 sands. There Arundel was slain with many of his 
 soldiers ; and the survivors most of whom were 
 newly levied fled in dismay.* 
 
 Arundel was buried in the Church of the Mount ; 
 and Edward, on hearing of the sheriff's death, ap- 
 pointed a gentleman named Fortescue as successor 
 in the office. Having been ordered to prosecute the 
 siege, Fortescue commenced operations. But the 
 new sheriff was little more successful than his pred- 
 ecessor. Moreover, the Mount, which was con- 
 nected with the main land by an isthmus, dry at 
 low water, but at other times overflowed, gained the 
 reputation of being impregnable ; and the king, who 
 ascribed the want of success to the want of loyal 
 zeal, and described Cornwall as " the back door of 
 
 * " Sir John Arundel had long before been told, by some 
 fortune-teller, he should be slain on the sands ; wherefore, 
 to avoid that destiny, he removed from Effbrd, near Strat- 
 ton-on-the-Sands, where he dwelt, to Trerice, far off from 
 the sea, yet by this misfortune fulfilled the prediction in an- 
 other place." Poltchele'x History of Cornwall.
 
 SURRENDER OF THE MOUNT. 359 
 
 rebellion," instructed Fortescue to hold a parley 
 with Oxford in order to ascertain the earl's desires 
 and expectations. 
 
 Fortescue acted according to his instructions, and 
 demanded on what conditions the garrison would 
 surrender. 
 
 "If," said the earl, "the king will grant myself 
 and my adherents our lives, our liberties, and our 
 estates, then we will yield." 
 
 And otherwise ?" said the sheriff. 
 
 " Why, in that event," exclaimed Oxford, with 
 calm desperation, K we will fight it out to the last 
 man." 
 
 The earl's answer was conveyed to the king ; and 
 on Edward's assuring the garrison of a free pardon, 
 under the great seal of England, Oxford surrendered 
 St. Michael's Mount. Indeed, he had been extreme- 
 ly perplexed ; for Fortescue, it appears, had already 
 opened communications with the garrison, and con- 
 veyed them such promises on the king's part that 
 Oxford was under the necessity of surrendering him- 
 self to avoid the humiliation of being delivered by 
 his own men into the hands of the besieger?. This 
 was all the more provoking that he had sufficient 
 provisions to last till midsummer ; but there was 
 no resisting fate, and, about the middle of February, 
 Fortescue entered the Mount. 
 
 Oxford, having been carried to London with two
 
 360 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 of his brothers and Lord Beaumont, was tried and 
 attainted ; and, notwithstanding the promise of par- 
 don, the fate of the chief of the De Veres now ap- 
 peared to be sealed. Fortunately for the Lancas- 
 trian earl, Edward's conscience was at that time 
 troubled with some qualms, and his heart daunted 
 by some signs Avhich he regarded as ominous of evil. 
 Not being in a savage humor, he shrunk from hav- 
 ing more De Vere blood on his hands, and the earl 
 escaped execution. However, he was sent captive 
 to Picardy. 
 
 When Oxford was sent to a foreign prison, his 
 youthful countess was left in poverty. As the sis- 
 ter of Warwick and the wife of Oxford, the noble 
 lady was regarded by Edward with peculiar aver- 
 sion ; and, both as sister and wife, she returned the 
 king's antipathy with interest. Thus it happened 
 that, notwithstanding the near relationship in which 
 she stood to the house of York, no provision out of 
 her husband's revenues was made for her mainte- 
 nance during his incarceration. The countess had 
 all the Neville pride and determination. Cast down 
 from patrician grandeur, and expelled from Castle 
 Hedlingham and other feudal seats, where she had 
 maintained state as the wife of England's proudest 
 Norman earl, she made a noble effort to earn daily 
 bread, and contrived to make a living by the exer- 
 cise of her skill in . needle-work. The struggle to
 
 OXFORD AT HAMMES. aei 
 
 keep the wolf from the door was doubtless hard to 
 the daughter of Salisbury and the spouse of Oxfoi'd ; 
 but, from being compelled to rely on her industry, 
 Margaret Neville escaped the irksome necessity of 
 suppressing the indignation she felt against her hus- 
 band's foes, and she retained the privilege of de- 
 nouncing the king, whom her imagination painted as 
 the falsest of tyrants. 
 
 Meanwhile, Oxford was, in defiance of the king's 
 promise, conveyed to Hammes, and committed as a 
 pi-isoner to the Castle. The earl was not a man to 
 relish the idea of incarceration, and he resolved on 
 taking an unceremonious leave of his jailers. With 
 this view, he leaped from the walls into the ditch, 
 and endeavored to escape. The vigilance of his 
 warders, however, rendered this attempt futile, and 
 John de Vere was conveyed back to the Castle, a 
 prisoner without prospect of release.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A DUKE IN RAGS. 
 
 AMOKG the Lancastrian chiefs who survived the 
 two fields on which the Red Rose was trodden un- 
 der the hoofs of King Edward's charger, none was 
 destined to a more wretched fate than the conquer- 
 or's own brother-in-law, Hemy, Duke of Exeter. 
 The career of this chief of the family of Holland, 
 from his cradle to his grave, forms a most melan- 
 choly chapter in the annals of the period. 
 
 The Hollands were somewhat inferior in origin 
 to most of the great barons who fought in the Ware 
 of the Roses. The founder of the house was a poor 
 knight, who, from being secretary to an Earl of 
 Lancaster, rose to some post of importance. His 
 grandson, happening to hold the office of steward 
 of the household to an Earl of Salisbury, contrived 
 to espouse Joan Plantagenet, daughter of the Earl 
 of Kent ; and when that lady, known as ' ; The Fair 
 Maid of Kent," after figuring as a widow, became 
 wife of " The Black Prince," the fortunes of the 
 Hollands rose rapidly. One flourished as Earl of 
 Kt'iit ; another was created Duke of Surrey; and 
 a third, having been gifted with the earldom of
 
 THE HOLLANDS. 363 
 
 Huntingdon, became Duke of Exeter and husband 
 of Elizabeth of Lancaster, John of Gaunt's second 
 daughter. 
 
 Notwithstanding his Lancastrian alliance, the first 
 Duke of Exeter remained faithful to Richard in 
 1399, and, consequently, lost his head soon after 
 that sovereign's deposition. The son of the decap- 
 itated nobleman, however, being nephew of the new 
 king, was soon received into favor by Henry of Lan- 
 caster, and appointed Constable of the Tower and 
 Lord High Admiral of England. At an early age 
 he married a daughter of Edmund, Earl Stafford ; 
 and on the 27th of June, 1430, their only son was 
 born in the Tower of London. On the same day 
 he was carried to Cold Harbor in the arms of the 
 Countess Marshal, who conveyed him in a barge to 
 Westminster, where, in St. Stephen's Chapel, he was 
 baptized by the name of Henry. 
 
 Fortune seemed to smile on the heir of the Hol- 
 lands. Could the future have been foreseen, how- 
 ever, no young peasant, laboring in the fields and 
 struggling out of serfdom, would have envied the 
 infant destined to a career so miserable and a catas- 
 ti'ophe so melancholy. The life of Henry Holland 
 opened brightly enough. At the age of seventeen 
 he succeeded his father as third Duke of Exeter 
 and Lord High Admiral of England, and espoused 
 Anne Plantagenet, eldest daughter of the Duke of
 
 ^64 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 York ; and, at the time when the Roses were pluck- 
 ed, he appears to have favored the Yorkist cause. 
 A change, however, came over his fortunes and his 
 political sentiments. 
 
 Exeter had, in fact, chosen his party without due 
 consideration, and crc long he saw reason to change 
 sides. Indeed, his place in Parliaments and councils 
 must have reminded the young duke that, through 
 his grandmother, he was of the blood of Lancaster ; 
 and to a man of his rank flatterers would hardly be 
 wanting to suggest the probability of the course of 
 events bringing the regal sceptre to his hand. On 
 arriving at years of discretion, Exeter changed the 
 pale for the purple rose, and, after the first battle of 
 St. Albans, he was under the necessity of flying to 
 the sanctuary of Westminster. From that place of 
 security he was taken on some pretext, and sent as a 
 prisoner to Pontefract Castle. 
 
 When the political wind changed, Exeter recov- 
 ered his liberty ; and, as time passed over, he fought 
 for Margaret of Anjou in the battles of Wakefield 
 and Towton. After the rout of the Red Rose army 
 on Palm Sunday, 1401, he fled with Henry into 
 Scotland ; but in the autumn of that year he was 
 tempting fortune in Wales, and, in company with 
 Jasper Tudor, stood embattled at Tutehill, near 
 Carnarvon, against King Edward's forces. The 
 Yorkists proving victorious, Exeter and his com-
 
 EXETER IN ADVERSITY. 365 
 
 rade in arms were fain to make for the mountains, 
 leaving the Welsh Lancastrians no resource but to 
 submit. 
 
 Exeter's biography now becomes obscure. The 
 unfortunate duke can be traced, however, lurking 
 on the Scottish frontier, fighting at Hexham, flying 
 to a Northumbrian village, finding Margaret of Anjou 
 in the outlaw's cave, accompanying the Lancastrian 
 queen into exile, and wandering as a broken man on 
 the Continent, while his duchess, in no degree in- 
 clined to share such fortunes, enjoyed the estate of 
 her banished lord, lived at her brother's court, kept 
 well with Elizabeth Woodville, and ministered to 
 that lady's maternal ambition by pledging the hand 
 of Exeter's heiress to the young Marquis of Dorset. 
 When, however, Warwick chased Edward of York 
 from the kingdom, Exeter appeared once more in 
 England, and figured as one of the Lancastrian 
 leaders at Barnet. 
 
 The disgrace of abandoning " The Stout Earl" 
 on the field where he was laid low, Exeter did not 
 share. As early as seven in the morning of that 
 Easter Sunday he was struck by an arrow, and left 
 for dead on the field. After remaining for nine 
 hours, he was discovered still alive, and carried to 
 the house of one of his servants named Ruthland. 
 A surgeon having been found to dress the duke's 
 wound, he was in such a degree restored as to be 
 conveyed to the sanctuary of Westminster.
 
 366 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 At this point mystery again settles over Exeter's 
 history. It appears, however, that the ill-fated duke 
 escaped to the Continent, and that the duchess seized 
 the opportunity to break the last link that bound her 
 to a husband so unfortunate. In November, 1472, 
 nearly two years after the battle of Barnet, the 
 Plantagenet lady, at her own suit, procured a di- 
 vorce, and soon after married Sir Thomas St. Leger, 
 Knight of the Body to King Edward. The du< 
 survived this event for three years. According to 
 Sandford, she breathed her last in 1475 ; and " St. 
 Leger surviving her," says Dugdale, "in 21 Edward 
 IV. founded a perpetual chantry of two priests to 
 celebrate divine service daily within the Chapel 
 of St. George in Windsor Castle." Exeter's only 
 daughter, who had been betrothed to the Marquis 
 of Dorset, died before her mother, and Elizabeth 
 Woodville secured the heiress of Bonville as bride 
 for her son. 
 
 Meanwhile the plight of Exeter became deplora- 
 ble, and in Flanders he was reduced to absolute 
 beggary. Comines relates that, on one occasion, he 
 saw the impoverished magnate running after the 
 Duke of Burgundy, and begging bread for GOD'* 
 sake. In the hapless mendicant, in rags and mis- 
 ery, Burgundy did not recognize the once proud 
 chief of the house of Holland his cousin by blood 
 and his brother-in-law by marriage. On being aft-
 
 EXETER FOUND DEAD. 367 
 
 erward informed, however, that the ragged mendi- 
 cant was the banished Duke of Exeter, great-grand- 
 son of John of Gaunt, the king of Portugal's kins- 
 man and his own, and formerly Lord High Admiral 
 of England, owner of broad baronies, and husband 
 of Anne Plantagenet, Charles the Rash was touched, 
 and induced to bestow on Exeter a pension to save 
 him from farther degradation. 
 
 Dugdale presumes that this scene occurred " after 
 Barnet Field ;" and, if so, Burgundy's bounty was 
 not long enjoyed by the unfortunate recipient. 
 Sometime in 1474 Exeter's earthly troubles ended. 
 His body was found floating in the sea between 
 Dover and Calais, but how he came by his death 
 was never ascertained. 
 
 " In this year," says Fabyan, " was the Duke of 
 Exeter found dead in the sea, between Dover and 
 Calais, but how he was drowned the certainty is not 
 known."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 LOUIS 1>E BRUGES AT WINDSOR. 
 
 IN the autumn of 1472, while Oxford was being 
 secured in the Castle of Hammes. and Edward was 
 striving to get Pembroke and Richmond into his 
 power, a guest, whom the king delighted to honor, 
 appeared in England. This was Louis de Bruges, 
 who had proved so true a friend in the hour of 
 need ; and right glad was Edward of York to wel- 
 come the Lord of Grauthuse to the regal castle 
 which still stands, in the nineteenth century, a mon- 
 ument of the Plantagenets' pride in peace and prow- 
 ess in war. 
 
 An account of the visit of the Burgundian noble- 
 man, written at the time, has fortunately been pre- 
 served ; and, as has been remarked, " far more lux- 
 urious and more splendid than might be deemed by 
 those who read but the general histories of that 
 sanguinary time, or the inventories of furniture in 
 the houses even of the great barons, was the ac- 
 commodation which Edward afforded to his gur- 
 
 On reaching Windsor, where, by-the-by, Marga- 
 ret of Anjou was then a prisoner of state, Louis de 
 Bruges was received by Lord Hastings, who, as the
 
 EDWARD'S HOSPITALITY. 369 
 
 king's chamberlain, led the noble guest to apart- 
 ments in the far side of the quadrangle of the castle, 
 which were richly hung with arras of cloth of gold. 
 Edward received Louis with every demonstration of 
 affection, and presented him to his spouse ; and Eliz- 
 abeth Woodville was, of course, all courtesy to her 
 husband's preserver. After the ceremony of recep- 
 tion was over, the king signified that Hastings should 
 conduct the Lord of Grauthuse to his chamber, 
 where supper was ready ; and Louis found that ev- 
 ery preparation had been made for entertaining him 
 luxuriously. 
 
 The apartments appropriated to the Burgundian 
 are described as having been fitted up in a way 
 which must have impressed the eye even of a man 
 accustomed to the magnificence of Dijon. The walls 
 were hung with white silk and linen cloth, and the 
 floor covered with rich carpets. The bed was of 
 down, the sheets were of Rennes cloth, and the 
 counterpane, the tester, and the ceiler were of cloth 
 of gold and furred with ermine. In the second 
 chamber was another state bed, and a couch with 
 hangings like a tent. In the third, covered with 
 white cloth, was a bath, which in that age was in 
 daily use. 
 
 After partaking of supper in the apartments dedi- 
 cated to his service, Louis was conducted to the 
 queen's withdrawing room, where he found Eliza- 
 A A
 
 370 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 beth and her ladies amusing themselves with differ- 
 ent games ; some playing at marteaux with balls 
 like marbles, and others at closheys, or nine-pins, 
 made of ivory. 
 
 Next day, after matin*. Edward took his guest to 
 the Chapel of St. George, where they heard mass 
 most melodiously sung. When mass had been per- 
 formed, the king presented his guest with a cup of 
 gold, garnished with pearl, in the middle of which 
 Avas a large piece of unicorn's horn, and on the cover 
 a, great sapphire. Then the king led Louis to the 
 quadrangle of the castle, and there the Prince of 
 Wales, still in his second year, appeared, to bid the 
 Lord of Grauthuse welcome to England. Having 
 introduced his heir to the Burgundian lord, Edward 
 conducted his guest into the little park, where they 
 had much sport. The king made Louis ride his 
 own horse ; and of the animal, which is described 
 as " a right fair hobby," he graciously made a pres- 
 ent to his guest. 
 
 That day the king dined at the lodge in Windsor 
 Park ; and, the ddnner. over, he showed Louis his 
 gardens and vineyard df pleasure. The queen or- 
 dered the .evening banquet in her own apartments ; 
 and, wheir supper was ovef , the Princess Elizabeth 
 danced with the Duke of Buckingham. Never did 
 guest receive more flattering attentions than Louis. 
 The king and courtiers did not take their leave of
 
 MARKS OF GRATITUDE. 371 
 
 him for the night till they had escorted him to his 
 apartments ; and soon after, Avhen he had been in 
 his bath and was preparing to betake himself to re- 
 pose, there were sent him by the queen's orders 
 ''green ginger, and divers sirups, and hippocras." 
 Next morning Louis breakfasted with the king, 
 and then, leaving Windsor, returned to Westminster. 
 At Westminster new honors awaited the Lord of 
 Grauthuse. On St. Edward's Day exactly nine- 
 teen years after the birth of the ill-fated Edward of 
 Lancaster the king created the Burgundian noble- 
 man Earl of Winchester, and, with many compli- 
 mentary phrases, gave him the arms of the family 
 of De Quency, which had enjoyed that earldom at 
 the time of the Barons' Wars. After having been 
 granted a more substantial mark of Edward's grati- 
 tude in the shape of a pension, Louis de Bruges took 
 his leave and returned to his own country.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE TREATY OF PICQUIGXV. 
 
 WHEN Edward's victories on Gladsmuir Heath 
 and the banks of the Severn had rendered the Lan- 
 castrians in England utterly incapable of making 
 head against the house of York, the martial king 
 naturally turned his thoughts to Continental tri- 
 umphs, and prepared to avenge himself on Louis of 
 France for the encouragement which that monarch 
 had openly and secretly given to the adherents of 
 the Red Rose. 
 
 Apart from the friendship shown by the crafty 
 king to Warwick and Lancaster, Edward had a 
 strong reason for making war on Louis. It wa.s 
 well known that Louis had not only sneered at his 
 royalty, but questioned his legitimacy, calling him 
 " the son of the archer," and keeping alive a story 
 which some envious Lancastrians had invented about 
 an intrigue of the Duchess of York, the proudest of 
 English matrons, with Blackburn of Middleham. 
 Besides, Edward was not insensible to the glory and 
 popularity to be acquired by emulating the martial 
 deeds of his ancestors on Continental soil. Accord- 
 ingly, in the year 1475, after concluding an alliance
 
 A STARTLING DEMAND. 373 
 
 offensive and defensive with the Duke of Burgundy, 
 and receiving promises of co-operation from the Con- 
 stable St. Pol, Edward dispatched Garter-King-at- 
 Arms to Louis, demanding the immediate surrender 
 of the kingdom of France. 
 
 However startled Louis might be at the message, 
 he did not lose his presence of mind. After reading 
 Edward's letter and reflecting, he sent for the Garter- 
 King, brought all his statecraft into play, expressed 
 his high respect for the English king, deplored that 
 such a prince should be deluded by so treacherous 
 an ally as Burgundy, and persuaded the herald to 
 urge his master to settle the matter amicably. 
 Moreover, he promised Garter a thousand crowns 
 when peace should be concluded ; and, meanwhile, 
 presented him with three hundred crowns. Garter- 
 King-at-Arms was touched with the munificence of 
 Louis, and promised his good offices ; nay, more, 
 significantly advised the King of France to open 
 negotiations with the English ministers, whom he 
 knew to be averse to a war. 
 
 Meanwhile, Edward had set himself to the task 
 of providing money and men for the expedition he 
 meditated ; and as the project of a war with France 
 was sure to make Parliament open the purse of the 
 nation, a considerable sum was voted. To Edward, 
 however, the amount appeared insufficient for his 
 purpose, and he resolved upon a system of exaction
 
 374 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 practiced in time of Richard the Second, and known 
 as "a benevolence." But money paid in this way 
 was supposed to be a voluntary gift, and not likely 
 to come in large sums unless asked for. Edward, 
 therefore, sent for the wealthiest citizens of London, 
 talked to them frankly, and pressed them to con- 
 tribute liberally ; and he besides secured the influ- 
 ence of the city dames, who exerted themselves to 
 the utmost on his behalf. A story is told of a 
 widow, who was not fond of parting with money, 
 bringing twenty pounds. " By GOD'S Blessed Lady," 
 ?aid Edward, who was present, "you shall have a 
 king's kiss for that money," and suited the action 
 to the word. " Sire," said she, delighted with this 
 familiarity, "the honor is worth more money than 
 I have given :" and the widow doubled her con- 
 tribution. 
 
 Large sums having been obtained, a gallant army 
 was soon raised. In fact, the sons of the men of 
 Agincourt did not relish the idea of beating swords 
 into plowshares ; and to the royal standard came 
 nearly twenty thousand men, headed by the Dukes 
 of Clarence and Gloucester, the Marquis of Dorset, 
 the Earl of Northumberland, Lord Stanley, Lord 
 Hastings, and other men of rank. With these, 
 and attended by Lord-chancellor Kotheram and the 
 Bishop of Ely, Edward sailed from Sandwich, and, 
 toward the close of June, landed at Calais, which he
 
 EDWARD IN FRANCE. 375 
 
 had last visited under the protection of Warwick, 
 between their flight from Ludlow and their victory 
 at Northampton. 
 
 High hopes were at first entertained by the in- 
 vaders ; but it soon became apparent that they were 
 not destined to add a Cressy or an Agincourt to 
 England's list of victories. At the very beginning, 
 their enterprise was ruined by the constable's insin- 
 cerity and Burgundy's rashness. The former failed 
 to open the gates as he had promised ; and the lat- 
 ter, instead of joining Edward with a large army, 
 exhausted his strength before Neuss in a battle with 
 the Swiss. 
 
 Louis began to breathe freely ; and while the En- 
 glish army lay inactive at Peronne, French gold cir- 
 culated freely among the leaders. A general desire 
 for peace was, of course, the result ; and, ere long, 
 Edward caught the infection. French embassadors 
 soon appeared, and offered to pay any thing in rea- 
 son. A sum of seventy-five thousand crowns down, 
 an annuity of fifty thousand crowns, and the dau- 
 phin as a husband for his eldest daughter such 
 were the terms submitted on the part of Louis for 
 the acceptance of the English king. Edward could 
 not resist such offers ; and, after negotiations had 
 gone on for some time, the kings agreed to a con- 
 ference. 
 
 Picquigny, three leagues from Amiens, on the
 
 37G THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 road from Calais to Paris, was selected as the scene, 
 and the 29th of August appointed as the time for 
 this memorable interview. Every precaution was 
 taken to prevent mischief; and on the middle of the 
 bridge which spanned the Somrnc, at. Picquigny, 
 were erected two sheds. These fronted each other, 
 but were divided from top to bottom by a trellis of 
 wood-work. The space between the gratings was 
 no wider than to admit a man's arm ; and the En- 
 glish king was to occupy one side of the barricade, 
 while the French king occupied the other. 
 
 It appears that Richard of Gloucester considered 
 the terms of treaty degrading, and declined to appear 
 at the conference. Nevertheless, on the appointed 
 morning, Edward, attended by Clarence, Northum- 
 berland, Hastings, and others, proceeded to the 
 Bridge of Picquigny, and approached the grating. 
 On the other side. Louis had already arrived, with 
 the Duke of Bourbon, the Cardinal Bourbon, about 
 ten other persons of the highest rank in France, 
 and Philip de Comines, who had recently exchanged 
 the service of Burgundy for that of Louis. 
 
 One glance at Edward as he advanced along the 
 causeway, with his tall, graceful form arrayed in 
 clothr of gold, and wearing on his regal head a vel- 
 vet cap with a large flew de Us formed of precious 
 stones, must have convinced so acute an observer as 
 Louis that the story about the archer of Middleham
 
 A CONFERENCE ON A BRIDGE. 377 
 
 was an invention of the enemy; and as the King of 
 England took off his cap, and bowed with grace, the 
 French monarch, who had been leaning against the 
 barrier, made a respectful obeisance, and exclaimed, 
 " Cousin, you are right welcome. There is no per- 
 son living I have been so ambitious of seeing." Ed- 
 ward, in good French, returned the compliment; and 
 the two kings proceeded to business. 
 
 Notwithstanding a heavy fall of rain,Avhich "came 
 on to the great vexation of the French lords, who 
 had dressed themselves and their horses in their 
 richest habiliments, in honor of King Edward," the 
 conference proved interesting. The Bishop of Ely, 
 in a set harangue, quoted a prophecy of Merlin fore- 
 shadowing the august meeting ; and a missal and 
 crucifix having been produced, the kings, each plac- 
 ing one hand on the book and another on the cruci- 
 fix, swore to observe religiously the terms of the 
 treaty. 
 
 The solemn ceremony of swearing over, Louis be- 
 came jocose, assured Edward he should be happy to 
 see him in Paris, and promised to assign him, as 
 confessor, the Cardinal Bourbon, who would, doubt- 
 less, readily grant absolution for any love affairs. 
 Edward seemed to relish the prospect ; and, know- 
 ing the cardinal's morals to be lax as his own, took 
 the opportunity of displaying his wit in reply. Aft- 
 er this the lords were sent to a little distance ; and
 
 378 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the kings, having spoken some words in private, 
 shook hands through the grating, and parted Louis 
 riding to Amiens, and Edward to the English camp. 
 
 No sooner had Louis left the bridge of Picquigny 
 than he repented of the invitation he had given Ed- 
 ward to visit the French capital. " Certes," said 
 the crafty monarch to Comines, as they rode to- 
 ward Amiens, " our brother of England is a fine 
 king, and a warm admirer of the ladies. At Paris 
 he might chance to find some dame so much to his 
 taste as to tempt him to return. His predecessors 
 have been too often both in Paris and Normandy 
 already, and I have no great affection for his com- 
 pany on this side of the Channel." 
 
 At Amiens, on the same evening, when Louis was 
 sitting down to supper, an amusing scene occurred. 
 Sir John Howard, now a baron, and Sir John Chey- 
 ney, Edward's Master of the Horse, had been ap- 
 pointed to accompany Louis to Paris ; and Howard, 
 whose vanity made him, as usual, ridiculous, whis- 
 pered to the French king that it would go hard but 
 he would persuade Edward to come to Paris a while 
 and be merry. Louis allowed this to pass without 
 returning any direct answer ; but afterward he took 
 occasion to say that the war with Burgundy would 
 render his presence absolutely necessary in another 
 part of France. 
 
 But, whatever his apprehensions, Louis was not
 
 EDWARD'S RETURN. 379 
 
 doomed to have his formidable contemporary as a 
 foe or a guest on the banks of the Seine. Edward, 
 doubtless delighted with the prospect of indulging in 
 hunting, carousing, and love-making at Shene or 
 Windsor, recalled, without delay, his soldiers from 
 Peronne, Abbeville, and other places, and, escorted 
 by the Bishop of Evreux, marched back to Calais. 
 Thence he embarked for England, but not without 
 being unpleasantly reminded that he hardly came 
 off with royal honors. In fact, the Constable of 
 St. Pol, apparently enraged that events had taken 
 such a turn as to profit him nothing, wrote Edward 
 a furious letter, calling him " a coward, a pitiful 
 and poor sovereign, for having made a treaty with a 
 king who would not keep one of his promises."* 
 
 The Plantagenet sent St. Pol's epistle to the King 
 of France, and digested the affront ; and while Louis, 
 who had already been suspected of poisoning his 
 brother, Charles de Valois, got rid of another ene- 
 my by beheading the constable, Edward returned to 
 England to expend the money he had received as a 
 bribe on those pleasures destined to destroy his 
 health and obscure his intellect. Nor did his nobles 
 come home empty-handed. Dorset, Hastings, and 
 
 * "The most honorable part of Louis's treaty with Ed- 
 ward was the stipulation for the liberty of Queen Margaret. 
 Louis paid fifty thousand crowns for her ran- 
 som." Hume's History.
 
 390 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Howard, Sir John Cheyney and Sir Thomas St. 
 Leger, had become pensioners of the French king ; 
 and the people were left to complain that the expe- 
 dition for which they had paid so dearly had ended 
 in infamy. Perhaps, under such circumstances, they 
 did drop a tear over the grave of " The Stout Earl," 
 who, had he been alive, would not have stood quiet- 
 ly by while a king of England extracted taxes from 
 English subjects to commence an unnecessary war, 
 and took bribes from a French monarch to conclude 
 a humiliating peace.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY. 
 
 AT the opening of the year 1477, Charles the 
 Rash, Duke of Burgundy, fell at Nanci, before the 
 two-handed swords of the Swiss mountaineers, leav- 
 ing, by his first wife, Isabel of Bourbon, a daughter, 
 Mary, the heiress of his dominions. About the same 
 time, George, Duke of Clarence, and Anthony Wood- 
 ville, Earl Rivers, happened to become widowers. 
 The duke and the earl, in other days rivals for the 
 hand of the heiress of Lord Scales, immediately en- 
 tered the arena as candidates for that of Mary of 
 Burgundy, and their rivalry produced one of the 
 darkest domestic tragedies recorded in the Piantag- 
 enet annals. 
 
 Clarence appears to have been the first to urge 
 his claims. Almost ere the dust had time to gather 
 on the coffin of his departed wife in the Abbey of 
 Tewkesbury, the bereaved husband of Isabel Neville 
 applied to his sister, the widow of Burgundy, to for- 
 ward his suit with her step-daughter. The widowed 
 duchess was the reverse of unfavorable to a matri- 
 monial project so likely to advance the fortunes of 
 her family, and the heart of Clarence for a moment
 
 382 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 glowed with anticipations of a great matrimonial 
 success. 
 
 But the hopes which Clarence cherished of a 
 marriage with the heiress of Burgundy were rudely 
 dispelled. The duke, whose shallow brain was 
 muddled with Malmsey, soon found that he was no 
 match for veteran courtiers. Experienced intrigu- 
 ers, the Woodvilles were prompt in their measures 
 to defeat any project that jarred with their interests ; 
 and Elizabeth instilled into her husband's mind such 
 suspicions as to Clarence's intentions, that Edward 
 not only refused to hear of an alliance that " might 
 enable Clarence to employ the power of Burgundy 
 to win the crown," but even let down his dignity so 
 far as to propose a marriage between Anthony, Earl 
 Rivers, and the daughter of Charles the Rash. The 
 court of Burgundy, treating the proposal with the 
 disdain it deserved, gave the heiress to the Emperor 
 Maximilian ; and the Woodvilles, finding their pre- 
 sumption checked, and resolved to console themselves 
 by making Clarence a victim, bent all their energies 
 to effect his ruin. 
 
 Circumstances were unfavorable to Clarence ; for, 
 since the duke's confederacy with Warwick, no love 
 had existed between him and the king. Edward 
 deemed that he owed his brother an injury ; and 
 that, at least, was a kind of debt which Edward of 
 York Avas never sorry to have an opportunity of
 
 CLARENCE AND THE WOODVILLES. 333 
 
 paying. The king's dislike was judiciously humor- 
 ed by the queen's kindred ; and a prophecy, that 
 the crown should be seized and the royal children 
 murdered by one, the first letter of whose name was 
 G, took* possession of his imagination. A fair ex- 
 cuse only was wanting to get rid of Clarence, and a 
 pretext was ere long found. 
 
 Among the Anglo-Norman families who during 
 the fifteenth centuiy maintained territorial state in 
 that county which had come with an heiress of the 
 Beauchamps to Richard Neville, and with the eldest 
 daughter of the king-maker to the royal duke by 
 whom he w r as betrayed, few were of higher consid- 
 eration than the Burdets. One of the Burdets had 
 accompanied the Conqueror to England ; another 
 had sat as member for Warwickshire in the Par- 
 liament of the second Edward; and a third, Sir 
 Nicholas, had fought with high distinction in the 
 wars carried on by the Duke of York in France. 
 Falling at Pontoise on that day when King Charles 
 of France stormed the town, Nicholas left a son, 
 Thomas, who resided at Arrow, the seat of his 
 family, and held an office in Clarence's household. 
 
 Burdet had figured as a Yorkist and fought for 
 the White Rose. Being a follower of Clarence, 
 however, he was regarded with some degree of sus- 
 picion ; and, having domestic troubles, his temper 
 was probably too much the worse for the wear to
 
 384 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 admit of his being suspected without manifesting 
 impatience. An accident, according to chroniclers, 
 occurred, which exasperated him to language so in- 
 discreet as to cause his own death and that of his 
 patron. 
 
 Burdet had, among the deer in his park at Arrow, 
 a white buck, of which he was exceedingly proud. 
 This buck was destined to be the cause of much 
 mischief; for one day, when Burdet was from home, 
 the king, making a progress through Warwickshire, 
 went to Arrow, and entered the park to divert him- 
 self with hunting. Unfortunately, Edward killed 
 the favorite buck of all others ; and Burdet, being 
 informed on his return of what had happened, was 
 enraged beyond measure. Indeed, it was said that 
 the worthy squire, regarding the whole affair as a 
 premeditated insult, lost his patience so completely 
 as to express a wish " that the buck's horns had 
 been in the king's belly." 
 
 But, however that may have been, there lived at 
 that time, under Clarence's protection, an ecclesi- 
 astic named John Stacey, famed for his learning 
 and skill in astrology. Having been denounced as 
 a necromancer, and accuse'] of exercising his un- 
 lawful art for the destruction of Richard, Lord 
 Beauchamp, Stacey was put to the rack and tor- 
 tured into naming Thomas Burdet as his accom- 
 plice in some treasonable practices. Burdet was
 
 EXECUTION OF BURDET. 385 
 
 accordingly arrested on the charge of conspiring to 
 kill the king and the Prince of Wales by casting 
 their nativity, and of scattering among the people 
 papers predicting their death. 
 
 Having been taken to Westminster Hall, Burdet 
 and Stacey Avere tried before the Court of King's 
 Bench. But that court was no longer presided over 
 by a Fortescue or a Markham, and it was in vain 
 that Burdet pleaded his innocence, declaring that, so 
 far from having any design against the king's life, 
 he was ready to fight for the king's crown, as he had 
 done before. His fate was sealed : the jury return- 
 ed a verdict of " Guilty ;" the knight and ecclesias- 
 tic were sentenced to death ; and, having been drawn 
 from the Tower, they were executed as traitors at 
 Tyburn. 
 
 The matter did not rest here. On learning the 
 result of his adherents' trial, Clarence, who was in 
 Ireland, naturally felt somewhat dismayed. Recol- 
 lecting how the proceedings against Eleanor Cob- 
 ham had served as a prelude to the destruction of 
 Duke Humphrey, and apprehending in this case a 
 similar result, he determined to stir in his own de- 
 fense, and rushed into the snare which his enemies 
 had set. Hunying to England, and reaching West- 
 minster in the king's absence, he entered the coun- 
 cil chamber, showed the lords there assembled pri- 
 vate confessions and declarations of innocence made 
 BB
 
 386 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 by Burdet and Stacey, and protested vehemently 
 against the execution that had taken place. 
 
 At Windsor the king received intelligence of the 
 step Clarence had taken ; and the affair being re- 
 ported to him in the worst light, he appears to have 
 been seized with something like temporary insanity, 
 and to have regarded Clarence's destruction as es- 
 sential to his own safety and that of his children. 
 No sooner, in any case, was news conveyed to him 
 that Clarence was " flying in the face of all justice," 
 than he hastened to Westminster, summoned the 
 duke to the palace, and ordered him to be commit- 
 ted to the Tower. 
 
 Having pushed matters to this crisis, the W r ood- 
 villes did not allow Edward's passion to cool. It 
 was in vain that the lord chancellor attempted to 
 reconcile the king and the captive. A Parliament 
 was summoned to meet about the middle of Janu- 
 ary ; and when, on the appointed day, the English 
 senators assembled at Westminster, the judges were 
 summoned to the House of Lords, and Clarence was 
 brought to the bar to be tried by his peers the 
 young Duke of Buckingham, who had married the 
 queen's sister, presiding as lord high steward, and 
 Edward appearing personally as accuser. Absurd 
 as some of the charges were, Clarence had no chance 
 of escape. He was charged with having dealt with 
 the devil through necromancers ; represented Ed-
 
 A STATE TRIAL. 387 
 
 ward as illegitimate and without right to the throne ; 
 plotted to dethrone the king and disinherit the king's 
 children; retained possession of an act of] Parlia- 
 ment, whereby, in the reign of Henry, he had been de- 
 clared heir to the crown after Edward of Lancaster ; 
 purchased the support of the Lancastrians by prom- 
 ising to restore their confiscated estates ; and warn- 
 ed his own retainers to be ready to take up arms at 
 an hour's notice. Clarence indignantly denied every 
 charge ; but his protestations of innocence were as 
 vain as those of Burdet had been. Edward appeared 
 bent on a conviction, and the peers had not the cour- 
 age to resist such a pleader. The royal brothers, in- 
 deed, would seem to have had all the talk to them- 
 selves "no one denying Clarence but the king, and 
 no one answering the king but Clarence." Even 
 the self-sufficient Buckingham contented himself 
 with asking the judges " whether the matters proved 
 against Clarence amounted in law to high treason." 
 The opinion of the judges was altogether unfavor- 
 able to the duke. The legal functionaries answered 
 the lord high steward's question in the affirmative, 
 and the peers returned a unanimous verdict of 
 " Guilty." On the 7th of February Buckingham 
 pronounced sentence of death. 
 
 When matters reached this alarming stage, the 
 Duchess of York interfered ; and the king, in a 
 somewhat relenting mood, delayed sending his broth-
 
 388 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 er to the block. The Woodvilles, however, were 
 not to be baffled of their prey ; and the House of 
 Commons, acting under their influence, petitioned 
 for the duke's immediate execution. But the son- 
 in-law of Warwick, with all his failings, was still 
 the idol of the populace ; and the policy of having 
 him beheaded on Tower Hill was more than 
 doubtful. 
 
 Ere this, Clarence had been reconducted to the 
 Tower, and lodged in that part of the metropolitan 
 fortress where resided the Master Provider of the 
 King's Bows. In a gloomy chamber of " The 
 Bowyer Tower," the duke, sad and solitary, pars- 
 ed several weeks, while his enemies decided what 
 should be his fate. At length, about the beginning 
 of March, it was rumored that the captive had died 
 of grief and despair. The populace immediately 
 raised a shout of indignation on hearing of the 
 death of their "Good Duke," and sternly refused 
 to believe that he had not had foul play. Ere long 
 the story which Shakspeare has made so familiar 
 was whispered about. 
 
 The execution of Clarence having been deter- 
 mined on such was the popular account he was 
 allowed the privilege of choosing what death he 
 should die ; and, having an objection to appear on 
 the scaffold, he elected to be drowned in that liquor 
 with which he had so often washed down care and
 
 CLARENCE'S DEATH. 389 
 
 remorse. A butt of Malmsey was accordingly in- 
 troduced to the gloomy chamber in which he was 
 lodged ; and, one end of the cask having been 
 knocked out, he was plunged into the wine, with 
 his head down, and held in that position till life 
 was extinct. His body was carried to Tewkesbury, 
 and laid beside that of his duchess in the abbey 
 church. 
 
 Having accomplished their revenge on the king's 
 brother, the queen's kinsmen looked out for some- 
 thing wherewith to gratify their avarice. On this 
 point the Woodvilles were, as usual, successful. To 
 Earl Rivers was given part of the estates of Clar- 
 ence ; and to the Marquis of Dorset the wardship 
 of the son of the murdered duke. The king, how- 
 ever, was the reverse of satisfied. He never recalled 
 the name of Clarence without a feeling of penitence ; 
 and afterward, when sued for any man's pardon, he 
 was in the habit of exclaiming mournfully, " Ah ! I 
 once had an unfortunate brother, and for his life not 
 one man would open his mouth."
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 KING EDWARD'S DEATH. 
 
 FOR some years after the treaty of Picquigny, 
 Edward of York, trusting to the friendship and re- 
 lying on the pension of King Louis, passed his time 
 in inglorious ease ; and Elizabeth Woodville, elate 
 with the prospect of her daughter sharing the throne 
 of a Valois, persisted in pestering the crafty monarch 
 of France with inquiries when she was to send him 
 her young dauphiness. Meanwhile, Louis, who had 
 no intention whatever of maintaining faith with the 
 King of England one day longer than prudence dic- 
 tated, was looking about for a more advantageous 
 alliance for the heir to his throne. 
 
 After appearing for some time utterly unsuspici- 
 ous, Edward, in 1480, resolved on sending an em- 
 bassador to Paris, and Sir John Howard was select- 
 ed as the man to urge a speedy celebration of the 
 marriage. The plans of Louis were not then quite 
 ripe, but his state-craft did not desert him ; and, 
 at length, after Howard had for some time been 
 silenced by bribes, and Edward deluded by flatter- 
 ing assurances, he set the treaty of Picquigny at 
 defiance, and contracted a marriage between the
 
 THE KING-CRAFT OF LOUIS. 391 
 
 dauphin and a daughter of the Emperor Maxi- 
 milian. 
 
 Fortunately for Louis, Edward was a much less 
 formidable personage than of yore. Since return- 
 ing from his French expedition, the English king 
 had given himself up to luxury and indolence. He 
 had drunk deep, kept late hours, sat long over the 
 wine-cup, and gratified his sensual inclinations with 
 little regard either to his dignity as a king or his 
 honor as a man. Dissipation and debauchery had 
 ruined his health and obscured his intellect. Even 
 his appearance was changed for the worse. His 
 person had become corpulent, and his figure had 
 lost its grace. He was no longer the Edward of 
 Towton or of Tewkesbury. 
 
 On discovering, however, how completely he had 
 been duped, Edward displayed some sparks of the 
 savage valor which, in other days, had made him so 
 terrible a foe. Rousing himself to projects of re- 
 venge, he vowed to carry such a war into France 
 as that country had never before experienced, and 
 commenced preparations for executing his threats. 
 As his resentment appeared implacable, Louis deem- 
 ed it prudent to find him work nearer home ; and, 
 with this object, excited the King of Scots to under- 
 take a war against England. 
 
 Some successes achieved by Gloucester in Scot- 
 land emboldened Edward in his projects. It hap-
 
 392 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 pened, however, that he did not live even to at- 
 tempt the execution of his threats. The excess of 
 his rage against Louis had been such as seriously to 
 affect his health ; and, about Easter, 1483, in his 
 forty-second year, the warlike king was laid pros- 
 trate with a fever in the Palace of Westminster. 
 Stretched on a bed of sickness, the king found his 
 constitution rapidly giving way; and, losing faith in 
 the skill of his physicians, he referred his quarrel 
 with Louis to the judgment of GOD, and summoned 
 the lords of his court to bid them farewell. 
 
 The king, indeed, could not fail to be anxious as 
 to the fortunes of the family he was leaving. Ever 
 since his ill-starred marriage the court had been, 
 distracted by the feuds of the queen's kindred and 
 the old nobility of England. The death of War- 
 wick and the judicial murder of Clarence had by 
 no means restored harmony. At the head of one 
 party figured the queen's brother, Earl Rivers, and 
 her son, the Marquis of Dorset ; at the head of the 
 other was the Duke of Buckingham, with whom 
 sided the Lords Stanley and Hastings. Difficult as 
 the task might be, Edward hoped to reconcile the 
 hostile factions ere going to his grave. 
 
 When the lords appeared in the king's chamber, 
 and assembled around his bed, Edward addressed to 
 them an impressive speech. Having indicated his 
 brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, as the fittest
 
 A LAST FAREWELL 393 
 
 person to be Protector of the realm, he expressed 
 much anxiety about the affairs of his kingdom and 
 family, pointed out the perils of discord in a state, 
 and lamented that it had been his lot " to Avin the 
 courtesy of men's knees by the fall of so many heads." 
 After thus smoothing the way, as it were, he put it 
 to his lords, as a last request, that they should lay 
 aside all variance, and love one another. At this 
 solemn appeal the lords acted their parts with a de- 
 corum which imposed on the dying man. Two cel- 
 ebrated characters, indeed, were absent, whose tal- 
 ents for dissimulation could not have failed to dis- 
 tinguish them. Gloucester was on the borders of 
 Scotland, and Elvers on the marches of Wales ; so 
 that Richard Plantagcnet, with his dark guile, and 
 Anthony Woodville, with his airy pretensions, were 
 wanting to complete the scene. But Hastings, Dor- 
 set, and others, though their hearts were far asun- 
 der, shook hands and embraced with every sem- 
 blance of friendship ; and the king dismissed them 
 with the idea that he had effected a reconciliation. 
 His affairs on earth thus settled, as he believed, 
 Edward proceeded to make his peace with heaven. 
 Having received such consolations as the Church 
 administers to frail men when they are going to judg- 
 ment, and committed his soul to the mercy of GOD, 
 Edward awaited the coming of the Great Destroyer. 
 On the 9th of April his hour arrived ; and, complain-
 
 394 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ing of drowsiness, he turned on his side. While in 
 that position he fell into the sleep that knows no 
 breaking ; and his spirit, which had so often luxu- 
 riated in carnage and strife, departed in peace. 
 
 On the day when the king breathed his last he 
 lay exposed in the Palace of Westminster, that the 
 lords, temporal and spiritual, and the municipal 
 functionaries of London might have an opportunity 
 of ascertaining that he had not been murdered. 
 This ceremony over, the body was seared and re- 
 moved to St. Stephen's Chapel, and there watched 
 by nobles, while masses were sung. 
 
 Windsor had been selected as the place of inter- 
 ment. Ere being conveyed to its last resting-place, 
 however, the corpse, covered with cloth of gold, was 
 carried to the Abbey of Westminster under a rich 
 canopy of cloth imperial, supported by four knights, 
 Sir John Howard bearing the banner in front of the 
 procession, and the officers of arms walking around. 
 Mass having been again performed at Westminster, 
 the mortal remains of the warrior-king were placed 
 in a chariot drawn by six horses, and conveyed, by 
 slow stages, along the banks of the Thames. Hav- 
 ing been met at the gates of Windsor, and perfumed 
 with odors by the Archbishop of York and the 
 Bishop of Winchester the corpse was borne in sol- 
 emn procession to the Chapel of St. George, where, 
 placed in the choir, on a hearse blazing with lights
 
 OBSEQUIES. 395 
 
 and surrounded with banners, it was watched for 
 the night by nobles and esquires. Another mass, 
 more religious solemnities, a few more ceremonies 
 befitting the rank of the deceased, and the last Plan- 
 tagenet whose obsequies were performed with royal 
 honors was committed to the tomb.
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER. 
 
 WHETHER Richard the Third, with his hunch 
 back, withered arm, splay feet, goggle eyes, and 
 swarthy countenance, as portrayed* by poets and 
 chroniclers of the Tudor period, very closely resem- 
 bles the Richard of Baynard's Castle and Bosworth 
 Field, is a question which philosophical historians 
 have answered in the negative. The evidence of 
 the old Countess of Desmond, when brought to light 
 by Horace "NYalpole in 1758, first began to set the 
 world right on this subject. Born about the mid- 
 dle of the fifteenth century, she lived when the 
 Plantagenets had been displaced by the Tudors, and 
 the Tudors succeeded by the Stuarts to affirm, in 
 the seventeenth century, that, in her youth, she had 
 danced with Richard at his brother's court, and that 
 he whom historians had, in deference to Tudor prej- 
 udices, represented as a monster of ugliness, was in 
 reality the handsomest man in the room except his 
 brother Edward, and that he was very well made. 
 
 It can not be denied that the Countess of Des- 
 mond's description of Richard appears extremely 
 complimentary; and, indeed, it would have been
 
 RICHARD AS HE WAS. 397 
 
 something novel in human nature if this lady of the 
 house of Fitzgerald, in old age and penury, had not 
 been inclined to exaggerate the personal advantages 
 of a Plantagenet prince who, in the days of her 
 youth and hope, had distinguished her by his atten- 
 tion. Evidence, however, exists in abundance to 
 prove that Richard was utterly unlike the deformed 
 ruffian introduced into history by the scribes and 
 sheriffs of London, who plied their pens with an eye 
 to the favor of the Tudors. 
 
 Portraits and authentic descriptions of the last 
 Plantagenet king which have come down to posterity 
 convey the idea of a man rather under-sized and hard- 
 featured, with dark brown hair, an intellectual fore- 
 head, a face slightly deficient in length, dark, thought- 
 ful eyes, and a short neck, and shoulders somewhat 
 unequal, giving an appearance of inelegance to a 
 figure, spare indeed, and wanting in bulk, but wiry, 
 robust, and sinewy; trained by exercise to endure 
 fatigue, and capable on occasions of exercising al- 
 most superhuman strength. Such, clad in garments 
 far more gorgeous than good taste would have ap- 
 proved, his head bent forward on his bosom, his 
 band playing with his dagger, as if in restlessness 
 of mood, and his lips moving as if in soliloquy, ap- 
 peared to his contemporaries the subtle politician 
 who, at Baynard's Castle, schemed for the crown of 
 St. Edward. Such, arrayed in Milan steel, bestrid-
 
 398 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 ing a white steed, the emblem of sovereignty, with 
 a surcoat of brilliant colors over his armor, a crown 
 of ornament around his helmet, a trusty lance skill- 
 fully poised in his hand, and an intense craving for 
 vengeance gnawing at his heart, appeared the fiery 
 warrior whose desperate valor well-nigh saved St. 
 Edward's crown from fortune and the foe on Bos- 
 worth Field.
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE PROTECTOR AND THE PROTECTORATE. 
 
 BEFORE "giving up his soul to GOD" in the 
 Palace of Westminster, the fourth Edward nom- 
 inated his brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, as 
 Protector of England during the minority of Ed- 
 ward the Fifth. The choice was one of which the 
 nation could not but approve. Richard was in the 
 thirty-first year of his life, and in the full vigor of 
 his intellect ; with faculties refined by education 
 and sharpened by use ; knowledge of mankind, ac- 
 quired in civil strife and in the experience of start- 
 ling vicissitudes of fortune ; a courage in battle 
 which had made his slight form and grisly cog- 
 nizance terrible to foes on fields of fame ; a genius 
 for war which had given him an enviable reputa- 
 tion throughout Christendom ; a temper hitherto so 
 carefully kept under restraint that any man hinting 
 at the excess of its ferocity would have been deem- 
 ed insane ; and an ambition hitherto so well masked 
 by affected humility that no one could have imagined 
 it capable of prompting political crimes, unjustifia- 
 ble, save by those Italian maxims associated with 
 the name of Machiavelli.
 
 400 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 It was on the 2d of October, 1452, shortly after 
 the Roses were plucked in the Temple Gardens, that 
 Cicely, Duchess of York, gave birth to her youngest 
 son, Richard, in the Castle of Fotheringay. He 
 was, therefore, scarcely three years old when the 
 Wars of the Roses commenced at St. Albans, and 
 little more than eight when the Duke of York was 
 slain by the Lancastrians on "Wakefield Green. 
 Alarmed, after that event, at the aspect of affairs, 
 warned by the murder of her second son, the boy- 
 Earl of Rutland, and eager to save George and 
 Richard from the fate of their elder brother, the 
 Duchess Cicely sent them to Holland, trusting that, 
 even in case of the Lancastrians triumphing, the 
 Duke of Burgundy would generously afford them 
 protection and insure them safety. 
 
 After being sent to the Continent, Richard and 
 his brother remained for some time in secret at 
 Utrecht ; but the Duke of Burgundy, hearing that 
 the young Plantagenets were in that city, had them 
 sought out and escorted to Bruges, where they were 
 received with the honors due to their rank. When, 
 however, his victory at Towton made Edward King 
 of England, he requested Burgundy to send the 
 princes; and, in the spring of 1461, "The Good 
 Duke" had them honorably escorted to Calais on 
 their way home. When, after their return to En- 
 gland, George was dignified with the dukedom of 
 Clarence, Richard became Duke of Gloucester.
 
 RICHARD'S YOUTH. 401 
 
 At an early age, Richai'd, Avho was energetic and 
 highly educated, acquired great influence over the 
 indolent and illiterate Edward ; and in the summer 
 of 1470, when scarcely eighteen, he was appointed 
 Warden of the West Marches. The return of 
 Warwick from France interrupting his tenure of 
 office, he shared his brother's flight to the territories 
 of the Duke of Burgundy ; and when Edward land- 
 ed at Kavenspur, to conquer or die, Richard was by 
 his side, and proved an ally of no mean prowess. 
 Being intrusted with high command at Barnet and 
 Tcwkesbury, his conduct won him high reputation ; 
 and, in spite of his foppery and fondness for dress 
 and gay apparel, he showed himself, at both of these 
 battles, a sage counselor in camp and a fiery war- 
 rior in conflict. 
 
 The Lancastrians having been put down and peace 
 restored, Richard turned his thoughts to matrimo- 
 ny, and resolved to espouse Anne Neville, daughter 
 of Warwick and widow of Edward of Lancaster. 
 Clarence, wishing to keep the Warwick baronies to 
 himself, as husband of Isabel Neville, attempted, by 
 concealing her sister, to prevent this marriage. But 
 Richard was not to be baffled. Pie discovered the 
 fair Anne in London, disguised as a cook-maid, and 
 carrying the youthful widow ofT, placed her for se- 
 curity in the sanctuary of St. Martin's. Neverthe- 
 less, Clarence continued unreasonable. " Richard 
 Cc
 
 4&! THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 may have my sister-in-law if lie will," he said, " but 
 v/e will part no livelihood." Edward, however, 
 took the matter in hand, pacified his brothers, al- 
 lotted Anne a handsome portion out of the 'War- 
 wick estates, and had the marriage with Richard 
 forthwith solemnized. One son, destined to figure 
 for a brief period as Prince of Wales, was the result 
 of this union. 
 
 Years rendered memorable by the inglorious ex- 
 pedition to France and the unfortunate execution 
 of Clarence passed over; and in 1482, when Ed- 
 ward conspired with the exiled Duke of Albany to 
 dethrone James, King of Scots, Richard, who, among 
 his contemporaries, had acquired the reputation of 
 being "a man of deep reach and policy." was in- 
 trusted with the conduct of the war. Having been 
 nominated lieutenant general against the Scot?, and 
 joined by the Earl of Northumberland and Lord 
 Stanley, he led twenty-five thousand men across 
 (he Tweed, regained Berwick, which had been sur- 
 rendered by Queen Margaret, and marched to the 
 gates of Edinburgh. By this expedition Richard 
 acquired an increase of popularity ; and he was still 
 in the north when Edward the Fourth departed 
 this life and his son was proclaimed as Edward the 
 Fifth. 
 
 At that time the young king a boy of thirteen 
 wa- residing in the Castle of Ludlow, on the inarches
 
 EDWARD THE FIFTH. 403 
 
 of Wales, and receiving his education under the 
 auspices of his maternal uncle, Anthony Wood- 
 ville, Earl Rivers. Anthony was eminently quali- 
 fied for the post of tutor, and every precaution ap- 
 pears to have been taken to render the boy worthy 
 of the crown which he was destined never to wear. 
 
 While the news of his father's death was travel- 
 ing to young Edward at Ludlow, the feud between 
 the ancient nobility and the queen's kindred broke 
 out afresh at Westminster, and London was agitated 
 by the factious strife. Elizabeth, jealous of the de- 
 signs of the adverse faction, wrote to Rivers to raise 
 a large force in Wales, and conduct the king to the 
 capital to be crowned ; and she empowered her son, 
 the Marquis of Dorset, who was Constable of the 
 Tower, to take the royal treasure out of that for- 
 tress, and fit out a fleet. Hastings, alarmed at these 
 indications of suspicion, threatened to retire to Ca- 
 lais, of which he was captain ; and both parties ap- 
 pealed to Richard, who had hitherto so acted as to 
 give offense to neither. 
 
 Richard, on learning the state of affairs, imme- 
 diately wrote to the queen, recommending that the 
 army gathering round her son should be dismissed ; 
 and the royal widow, who was totally devoid of the 
 intellect and sagacity necessary for such a crisis, 
 dispatched a messenger to her brother to disband 
 his troops. The young king, however, set out from
 
 404 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Ludlow, and, attended by Earl Elvers, Elizabeth's 
 second son, Richard Grey, and Sir Thomas Vaugh- 
 an, he approached Northampton on the 22d of April, 
 and learned that Richard had already arrived at 
 that town. 
 
 Richard, as we have said, was on the frontiers of 
 Scotland when his brother expired at Westminster. 
 On receiving intelligence of this sad event he rode 
 southward to York, and entered that city with a 
 retinue of six hundred knights and esquires, all 
 dressed, like himself, in deep mourning. At York he 
 ordered a grand funeral service to be performed in 
 the Cathedral ; and, having summoned the magnates 
 of the neighborhood to swear fealty to Edward the 
 Fifth, he set them the example by taking the oath 
 first. After going through this ceremony, he wrote 
 to Elizabeth Woodville and to Earl Rivers, express- 
 ing the utmost loyalty and affection for the young 
 king; but, at the same time, a messenger was sent 
 to the Duke of Buckingham appointing a meeting 
 at Northampton. 
 
 Again taking the road southward, Richard reach- 
 ed Northampton on the 22d of April ; and, learn- 
 ing that the king was every hour expected, he re- 
 solved to await the arrival of his nephew and escort 
 him safely to London. Ere long Rivers and Rich- 
 ard Grey appeared to pay their respects, and an- 
 nounce that the king had gone forward to Stony
 
 ARREST OF THE WOODV1LLES. 405 
 
 Stratford. Richard, who had hitherto given the 
 Woodvilles no cause for suspicion, was doubtless 
 somewhat surprised at this intelligence. He, how- 
 ever, suppressed his emotions, listened patiently to 
 Anthony's frivolous apology about fearing that 
 Northampton would have been too small a place to 
 accommodate so many people, and with the utmost 
 courtesy invited the uncle and nephew to remain 
 and sup. 
 
 Rivers and Grey accepted without hesitation an 
 invitation given in so friendly a tone ; and soon 
 after, Buckingham arrived at the head of three hund- 
 red horsemen. Every thing went calmly. The two 
 dukes passed the evening with Rivers and Grey; 
 they all talked in the most friendly way ; and next 
 morning they rode together to Stony Stratford. 
 
 On reaching Stony Stratford, Richard found the 
 king mounting to renew his journey ; and this cir- 
 cumstance seems to have convinced him that he was 
 intended by the Woodvilles first as a dupe and then 
 as a victim. At all events, their evident anxiety to 
 prevent an interview between him and his nephew 
 afforded him a fair opportunity for taking strong 
 measures, and he did not hesitate. Turning to Riv- 
 ers and Grey, he immediately charged them with 
 estranging the affections of his nephew, and caused 
 them to be arrested along with Sir Thomas Vaughan. 
 
 Having ordered the prisoners to be conveyed to
 
 4C6 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the castle of Sheriff Hutton, Richard and Bucking- 
 ham bent their knees to their youthful sovereign, 
 and explained to him that Rivers, Grey, and Dorset 
 were traitors ; but Edward, educated by his mater- 
 nal relatives and much attached to them, could not 
 conceal his displeasure at their arrest. 
 
 This scene over, Kichard dismissed all domestics 
 with whom Rivers had surrounded the young king, 
 and conducted his nephew toward London, giving 
 out as he went that the "Woodvilles had been con- 
 spiring. On the 4th of May they approached the 
 metropolis ; and at Hornsey Wood they were met 
 by Lord-mayor Shaw, with the sheriffs and alder- 
 men, in their scarlet robes, and live hundred of the 
 citizens, clad in violet and gallantly mounted. At- 
 tended as became a king, young Edward entered 
 London. Richard rode bareheaded before his neph- 
 ew ; many knights and nobles followed ; and. amid 
 loud acclamations from the populace, Edward the 
 Fifth was conducted to the Bishop's Palace. A 
 grand council was then summoned, and Richard 
 was declared Protector of England. 
 
 Meanwhile, Elizabeth Woodville had been seized 
 with dread. Alarmed at the report that her broth- 
 er and son were under arrest, and apprehensive of 
 Richard's intentions, she fled to the sanctuary with 
 her five daughters, her eldest son, the Marquis of 
 Dorset, and her youngest son, Richard, a boy often.
 
 ELIZABETH IN THE SANCTUARY. -107 
 
 who had been created Duke of York, and contract- 
 ed in marriage to an heiress of the Mowbrays who 
 died in infancy. The king, on learning that his 
 mother was alarmed, expressed his grief with tears 
 in his eyes. At first Kichard only protested his 
 loyalty, and marveled that his nephew should be so 
 melancholy; but ere long he resolved to turn the 
 royal boy's unhappiness to account, and with this 
 view sent the Archbishop of York to Elizabeth to 
 .-;iy that, to the king's happiness, the company of 
 Iiis brother was essential. 
 
 The prelate carried the Protectors message to 
 the sanctuary, and found the mournful mother ear- 
 nestly opposed to delivering up the Duke of York. 
 The archbishop, however, told her plainly that if she 
 did not consent, he feared some sharper course would 
 speedily be taken ; and at this warning Elizabeth, 
 who was at once timorous and imprudent, began to 
 yield. At length she took the boy by the hand and 
 led him to the archbishop. " My lord," she said, 
 " here he is. For my own part, I never will deliver 
 him freely ; but if you must needs have, take him, 
 and at your hands I will require him.'' 
 
 At that time Kichard and other lords were in the 
 Star Chamber, and thither the archbishop led the 
 weeping boy. As they entered, Richard rose, cm- 
 braced his nephew affectionately, and exclaimed with 
 characteristic dissimulation, "Welcome, nephew.
 
 103 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 with all my heart. Next to my sovereign lord, 
 your brother, nothing gives me so much contentment 
 as your presence." A few days after this scene was 
 enacted, Eichard declared that it was necessary that 
 the king and his brother should be sent to some 
 place of security till the distempers of the common- 
 wealth were healed ; and a great council, summoned 
 to discuss the question, resolved, on the motion of 
 Buckingham, that the princes should be sent to the 
 Tower. Accordingly, they were conducted to the 
 metropolitan fortress ; and it was intimated that 
 they were to remain there till preparations had been 
 made for the king's coronation. 
 
 The fate of Rivers, Grey, and Vaughan having 
 been decided on, the 13th of June was appointed as 
 the day of execution ; and Sir Richard Ratcliffe. an 
 unscrupulous agent of Richard, was intrusted with 
 the ceremony. Anthony Woodville was prevented 
 from addressing the people on the occasion, and pos- 
 terity has been deprived of the satisfaction of read- 
 ing the accomplished adventurer's vindication ; but 
 Vaughan was more lucky in his effort to be heard. 
 
 "I appeal," said Vaughan, solemnly, "to GOD'S 
 high tribunal against the Duke of Gloucester for 
 this wrongful murder." 
 
 "You have made a goodly appeal," said Ratcliffe, 
 with a sneer, " so lay down your head." 
 
 "I die i n the right, Ratcliffe," answered Vaughan ;
 
 RICHARD AND HASTINGS 109 
 
 and, preparing to submit to the blow, he added, 
 "Take heed that you die not in the wrong." 
 
 Ere disposing of the Woodvilles, Kichard per- 
 suaded himself that his dream of the crown might 
 be realized, and by bribes and promises purchased 
 Buckingham's aid in overthrowing the obstacles that 
 stood in his way. Anxious, also, to gain over Has- 
 tings, he deputed the task of sounding him to Wil- 
 liam Catesby, an eminent lawyer, who descended 
 from an ancient family at Lapworth, in Warwick- 
 shire, and who was destined to acquire an unenvia- 
 ble notoriety in Richard's service. The result was 
 not satisfactory. In fact, Hastings, though he heart- 
 ily concurred in 'Richard's measures against the 
 Woodvilles, was determined to stand by Edward's 
 sons to the death ; and, ere long, matters arrived at 
 such a pass that, while Richard sat at the head of a 
 majority of the council at Crosby Hall, Hastings 
 presided over a minority at the Tower. The party 
 of Hastings appeared formidable. Lord Stanley, 
 among others, took part in its proceedings; and 
 Stanley's son, George, Lord Strange, was reported 
 to be levying forces in Lancashire to give effect to 
 its decisions. Richard was not blind to the fact 
 that if he did not destroy the confederacy forthwith 
 it would destroy him. At such a crisis he was 
 neither so timid nor so scrupulous as to hesitate as 
 to the means.
 
 410 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Some years before his death, Edward of York, 
 while pursuing his amours in the city of London, 
 was captivated by the charms of June Shore, a 
 young city dame, whose name occupu-s an unfor- 
 tunate place in the history of the period. This 
 woman, after being for seven years the wife of a 
 reputable goldsmith, allowed herself, in an evil hour, 
 to be lured from the house of her husband, and fig- 
 ured for some time as the king's mistress. Not- 
 withstanding her equivocal position, however, Mis- 
 tress Shore exhibited many redeeming qualities. 
 Her wit and beauty giving her great influence over 
 Edward, she exercised it for worthy purposes, and 
 was ever ready to relieve the needy, to shield the 
 innocent, and protect the oppressed. 
 
 When Edward had been laid at rest in St. 
 George's Chapel, and Elizabeth Woodville fled to 
 the sanctuary, Mistress Shore manifested much sym- 
 pathy for the distressed queen ; and, having formed 
 an intimacy with Lord Hastings, she framed some- 
 thing resembling a plot against the Protector. Eliz- 
 abeth at once forgave Hastings the hostility he had 
 displayed toward her kindred, and forgave Mistress 
 Shore for having supplanted her in Edward's affec- 
 tions, and the three became allies. I?ichard's jeal- 
 ousy was aroused, and he resolved to make this ex- 
 traordinary alliance the means of effecting the ruin 
 of Hastings.
 
 A COUP D'ETAT. 411 
 
 It was Friday, the 13th of June the day on 
 which Rivers, Grey, and Vaughan suffered at Ponte- 
 f'ract and Hasting?, Stanley, the Bishop of Ely, the 
 Archbishop of York, with other men of mark, had 
 assembled at nine o'clock in the Tower, when the 
 Protector suddenly entered the council chamber and 
 took his seat at the table. Richard appeared in a 
 lively mood, conversed for a while gayly with those 
 present, and quite surprised them by the mirth 
 which he exhibited. 
 
 Having set the lords somewhat at their ease and 
 persuaded them to proceed with business, Richard 
 begged them to spare him for a while, and, leaving 
 the council chamber, he remained absent for an 
 hour. Between ten and eleven he returned, but 
 frowning and fretting, knitting his brow and biting 
 his lips. 
 
 'What punishment," he asked, seating himself, 
 " do they deserve who have imagined and compass- 
 ed my destruction, who am so nearly related to the 
 king, and intrusted with the government of the 
 realm T' 
 
 " Whoever they be," answered Hastings, after a 
 pause, " they deserve the death of traitors." 
 
 " These traitors," cried Richard, " are the sor- 
 ceress my brother's wife, and her accomplice, Jane 
 Shore, his mistress, with others, their associates, 
 who have, by their witchcraft, wasted my body."
 
 41-2 THE WARS OF THE ROSKs 
 
 "Certainly, my lord," said Hastings, alter exhib- 
 iting some confusion, " if they be guilty of these 
 crimes, they deserve the severest punishment." 
 
 " What ?'' exclaimed Richard, furiously, " do you 
 reply to me with ifs and with ands ? I tell thee 
 they have so done, and that I will make good on 
 your body, traitor." 
 
 After threatening Hastings, Richard struck the 
 council table, and immediately a cry of " Treason" 
 arose, and armed men rushed into the chamber. 
 
 " I arrest thee, traitor," said Richard, turning to 
 Hastings. 
 
 " Me, my lord ?" asked Hastings, in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, thee, traitor," said Richard ; " and, by St. 
 Paul, I swear I will not to dinner till I have thy 
 head off." 
 
 While this conversation was passing between the 
 Protector and Hastings, one of the soldiers, as if by 
 accident or mistake, struck a blow at Lord Stanley. 
 But the noble baron, who had no ambition to share 
 his ally's fate, and who, indeed, contrived to carry 
 his wise head to the grave, saved himself on this oc- 
 casion by jerking under the table, and escaped with- 
 out any other bodily injury than a bruise. 
 
 While Lord Stanley, the Archbishop of York, and 
 the Bishop of Ely were arrested, and shut up in va- 
 rious parts of the Tower, Hastings was hurried out- 
 side for immediate execution. Richard would not
 
 HASTINGS BEHEADED. 413 
 
 even allow the headsman time enough to erect a 
 seaiFokl ; but a log of wood answered the purpose. 
 This, having been found in the court of the Tower, 
 was carried to the green near the chapel ; and the 
 lord chamberlain, after being led thither, was with- 
 out farther ceremony beheaded. At the same time 
 the sheriffs of London proceeded to Mistress Shore's 
 house, took possession of her goods, which were 
 valued at three thousand marks, and conveyed her 
 through the city to the Tower. On being brought 
 before the council, however, on the charge of sor- 
 cery, no evidence worthy of credit was produced, 
 and an acquittal was the consequence. 
 
 The sudden execution of the lord chamberlain 
 naturally excited much interest in the city ; and, as 
 Hastings happened to be a great favorite with the 
 inhabitants, Richard deemed it necessary to vouch- 
 safe an explanation. Having therefore sent for 
 some of the influential citizens, and frankly justi- 
 fied himself as having acted simply in self-defense, 
 he, within two hour?, caused a proclamation, under 
 the great seal, fairly written on parchment, to be 
 read by a herald-at-arms, with great solemnity, in 
 various parts of London. LTnfortunately, this vin- 
 dication appeared so soon, after the execution that 
 people could not help suspecting that it had been 
 drawn up before. 
 
 " Here's a gay goodly cast," remarked the school-
 
 414 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 master of St. Paul's, as the document was read at 
 the Cross, " soul cast away for haste." 
 
 "Ay," said a merchant standing by, "I think it 
 has been written by the spirit of prophecy."
 
 CHAPTER XLIH. 
 
 THE USURPATION. 
 
 AFTER mewing the princes in the Tower, behead- 
 ing Hastings in London and the Woodvilles at Pon- 
 tefract, placing such foes to his pretensions as Lord 
 Stanley and the Bishop of Ely under lock and key, 
 and arousing the people's moral indignation by the 
 scandal of a king's widow taking counsel with her 
 husband's mistress to embarrass the government 
 carried on in the name of her son, Richard applied 
 himself resolutely to secure the prize on which he 
 had set his heart. Ere long, the citizens who dis- 
 cussed the proclamation about Hastings were des- 
 tined to have fresh subjects for gossip. 
 
 Among the numerous ladies upon whom Edward, 
 about the beginning of his reign, cast admiring eyes, 
 was Eleanor Talbot, grand-daughter of the great 
 Earl of Shrewsbury. This patrician dame was the 
 widow of Lord Butler of Sudeley, and had seen fif- 
 teen more summers than her royal lover. Edward, 
 not on that account the less enamored, asked her to 
 become his wife ; and, won by the ardor of his at- 
 tachment, Eleanor consented to a secret marriage. 
 The ceremony was performed by Dr. Stillington,
 
 416 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Bishop of Bath ; but, as time passed on, the Yorkist 
 king's amorous heart led him into another engage- 
 ment, and the neglected Eleanor was astonished 
 with news of his having married Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville. On hearing of his faithlessness she fell into 
 a profound melancholy, and afterward lived in sad- 
 ness and retirement. 
 
 Tliis silent repudiation of a, daughter of their 
 house shocked the propriety and hurt the pride of 
 the Talbots, and they applied to Stillington to de- 
 mand satisfaction. Not relishing the perilous duty, 
 the bishop spoke to Richard on the subject, and 
 Gloucester mentioned it to the king. This inter- 
 cession proved of no avail ; and Edward displayed 
 such fury on learning that the secret was known, 
 that nobody who valued a head would have cared 
 to allude to it while he was on the throne. But 
 Richard, who had not forgotten a circumstance so 
 important, now saw that the time had come when 
 the secret might be used to advance his own for- 
 tunes. It was necessary, however, that the facts 
 should be published in such a way as to produce a 
 strong impression, and a plan was devised for bring- 
 ing together a multitude. 
 
 For this purpose, Richard caused Mistress Shore 
 to be again dragged into public, and tried before 
 the spiritual courts for her scandalous manner of 
 life. The Protector was not this time disappointed.
 
 PENANCE OF JANE SHORE. 417 
 
 However unfounded the charge of sorcery, there was 
 no lack of evidence as to her frailties, and she was 
 condemned to do open penance. Sunday was ap- 
 pointed for this act of humiliation ; and on that 
 day, through streets crowded with spectators, the 
 erring woman was under the necessity of walking to 
 St. Paul's barefooted, wrapped in a white sheet, and 
 holding a lighted taper of wax in her hand. 
 
 This exhibition was of itself deemed likely to ad- 
 vance the Protector's interests by impressing people 
 with a high opinion of his worth as a reformer of 
 morals ; but Richard had arranged that, ere the 
 crowd assembled as spectators had time to disperse, 
 another and a far more important scene should be 
 enacted. In this the chief actor was Dr. Shaw, an 
 Augustine friar of high reputation and great popu- 
 larity. Mounting the pulpit at St. Paul's Cross, 
 Shaw, who was a brother of the lord-mayor and an 
 adherent of the Protector, preached from the text, 
 "The multiplying brood of the ungodly shall not 
 thrive, nor take deep rooting from bastard slips ;" 
 and proceeded boldly to prove that the princes in 
 the Tower were illegitimate. 
 
 Richard appears to have found this stratagem un- 
 successful ; but he did not dream of abandoning his 
 ambitious project. Nor can he, with justice, be se- 
 verely blamed for setting aside the sons of Elizabeth 
 Woodville. However the matter may have been 
 D n
 
 418 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Blurred over by men writing with the fear of the 
 Tudors before their eyes, hardly any doubt can ex- 
 ist that Edward was guilty of bigamy, and that his 
 marriage with Elizabeth was invalid ; for Philip de 
 Comines bears witness to having heard Bishop Stil- 
 lington state that he had married the king to Lady 
 Butler ; and Eleanor undoubtedly survived that un- 
 fortunate ceremony performed on a May morning in 
 the chapel at Grafton. 
 
 But the illegitimacy of Edward's offspring did not 
 make Richard heir of the house of York. Between 
 him and the crown stood the children of Clarence, 
 Edward Flantagenet, Earl of Warwick, and his sis- 
 ter Margaret, afterward Countess of Salisbury and 
 mother of Cardinal Pole. The claim of these chil- 
 dren was such as could not decently be rejected ; but, 
 having gone too far to recede, Richard pretended that 
 their father's attainder disqualified them from inher- 
 iting, and adopted measures for usurping the crown. 
 
 Richard again invoked the aid of Buckingham ; 
 and, on the Tuesday after Dr. Shaw's sermon, attend- 
 ed by nobles, knights, and citizens, Buckingham ap- 
 peared on the hustings at Guildhall, and harangued 
 the populace. The duke's oratory was successful. 
 Some of the wealthy citizens, indeed, asked time for 
 consideration ; but the multitude tossed their bon- 
 nets in the air, and shouted, " Long live King Rich- 
 ard."
 
 YOUNG EDWARD SET ASIDE 419 
 
 At Baynard's Castle, with the Duchess of York, 
 Richard was then residing ; and thither, to wait 
 upon him, the citizens sent a deputation, headed by 
 the lord-mayor and accompanied by Buckingham. 
 On being informed that a number of people were in 
 the castle court, Richard affected alarm and declined 
 to receive them ; but, at length, they were admitted, 
 and Buckingham presented an address, praying Rich- 
 ard to take the crown as his by right of birth and 
 the election of the estates of the realm. 
 
 " I little thought, cousin," said Richard, angrily, 
 " that you, of all men, would have moved me to a 
 matter which, of all things, I most decline." 
 
 " The free people of England will never be ruled 
 by a bastard," said Buckingham ; " and if you, the 
 true heir, refuse the crown, they know where to find 
 another who will gladly accept it." 
 
 " Well," said Richard, with the air of a man mak- 
 ing a great sacrifice, "since I perceive that the whole 
 realm is resolved not to permit my nephew to reign, 
 and that the right of succession belongs to me, I am 
 content to submit to the will of the people." 
 
 On hearing this speech the citizens raised a cry of 
 " Long live King Richard, our sovereign lord ;" and 
 the brief reign of Edward the Fifth was at an end.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 RICHARD'S CORONATION. 
 
 WHEN Richard had expressed his intention to 
 usurp the English crown, he fixed the 6th day of 
 July, 1483, for his coronation, and caused prepara- 
 tions to be made for performing the ceremony with 
 such magnificence as was likely to render the occa- 
 sion memorable. Never had arrangements been 
 made on so splendid a scale for investing a king of 
 England with the symbols of power. 
 
 At the same time Richard took precautions against 
 any opposition that might be offered by the friends 
 of Elizabeth Woodville. From the north were 
 brought five thousand fighting men, " evil appareled, 
 and worse harnessed, in rusty armor, neither de- 
 fensible for proof nor scoured for show," but witli 
 fearless hearts and strong hands. Their leader was 
 one whose name a Woodville could hardly hear 
 without growing pale. For it was Robin of Redes- 
 dale, who, in other days, had led the half mob, half 
 army that seized and beheaded old Earl Rivers, and 
 that son of Earl Rivers who, while in his teens, had 
 wedded a dowager duchess in her eighty-second year. 
 On the 4th of July these northern soldiers encamp-
 
 A CEREMONY. 421 
 
 ed in Finsbury Fields, and inspired the citizens of 
 London with emotions of doubt and apprehension. 
 
 On the day when Robin of Redesdale and his men 
 startled London, Richard and his ill-starred queen 
 the Anne Neville of earlier and happier times 
 took their barge at Baynard's Castle, and went by 
 water to the Tower. After releasing Lord Stanley 
 and the Archbishop of York, that they might take 
 part in the coronation, the king created his son Ed- 
 Avard Prince of Wale?, nominated Lord Lovel to the 
 office of lord chamberlain, vacant by the execution 
 of Hastings, and appointed Sir Robert Brackenbury, 
 the younger son of an ancient family long settled at 
 Sallaby, in the Bishopric of Durham, to the lieu- 
 tenancy of the Tower. At the same time he be- 
 stoAA r ed on Sir John Howard the dukedom of Nor- 
 folk, and to Thomas, eldest son of that pretentious 
 personage, he gave the earldom of Surrey. Grati- 
 fied as the vanity of the Howards might be, Sir John 
 must have blushed, if, indeed, capable of so much 
 decorum, as he thought of the disconsolate Avoman 
 in the sanctuary, and remembered the letter Avhich, 
 twenty years earlier, at the time of her marriage, he 
 had Avritten to her father, Sir Richard Woodville. 
 
 At length the day appointed for the ceremony ar- 
 rived, and Richard prepared to place the croAvn of 
 St. Edward on his head. " The king, with Queen 
 Anne, his Avifc," says the chronicler, "came down
 
 422 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 out of the Whitehall into the great hall at West- 
 minster, and went directly to th* King's Bench, and 
 from thence, going upon Kay-cloth, barefooted, went 
 to St. Edward's Shrine ; all his nobility going with 
 him, every lord in his degree." 
 
 A magnificent banquet in Westminster Hall 
 brought the coronation ceremony to a conclusion ; 
 and, in the midst of the banquet, Sir Robert Dy- 
 moke, as king's champion, rode into the hall and 
 challenged any man to say that Kit-hard was not 
 King of England. No one, of course, ventured to 
 gainsay his title ; but from every side rose shouts 
 of " King Richard, King Richard ;" and, his inau- 
 guration as sovereign of England having been thus 
 formally completed, the usurper retired to consider 
 how he could best secure himself on that throne 
 which he had gained by means so unscrupulous.
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 THE PRINCES IN* THE TOWER. 
 
 WIIKN the sons of the fourth Edward and Eliza- 
 beth Woodville had been escorted through London, 
 conducted to the Tower, and given into the keeping 
 of Sir Robert Brackenbury, the populace saw their 
 faces no more. 
 
 According to the chroniclers who wrote in the 
 age of the Tudors, the young king had, from the 
 time of the arrest of his maternal kinsman at Stony 
 Stratford, been possessed with vague presentiments ; 
 and he no sooner heard of the usurpation than he 
 revealed the alarm he felt for his personal safety. 
 " Alas !" exclaimed the boy, on being informed that 
 Richard was to be crowned, " I would mine uncle 
 would let me enjoy my life, though I lose my king- 
 dom and my crown." 
 
 The lives of the princes might have been spared ; 
 but it happened that, after causing his coronation 
 to be celebrated with so much splendor at Westmin- 
 ster, Richard undertook a progress to York, to have 
 the ceremony repeated in the capital of the north. 
 While on his way, Richard learned that the friends 
 of Elizabeth Woodville were conspiring to deliver
 
 424 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the princes from the Tower, and to place young Ed- 
 ward on the throne. The usurper, it is said, then 
 resolved on having his nephews put to death ere 
 they could be used by his enemies to disturb his 
 reign. "\Vith this view, while at Gloucester, Rich- 
 ard dispatched a messenger, named John Green, to 
 Brackenbury, with instructions to make away with 
 the princes; but Brackenbury, though elevated to 
 office by Richard, declared that he must decline the 
 commission. 
 
 Richard was at Warwick when this answer 
 reached him ; and, on hearing that Brackenbury 
 was a man who entertained scruples, he exclaimed, 
 with astonishment, "By St. Paul, whom then may 
 we trust ?" He was determined, however, that the 
 deed should be done, and, while musing over the 
 matter, bethought him of his Master of the Horse, 
 Sir James Tyrrel, who was in the next room. This 
 man, a brother, it appears, of the knight of that 
 name who fell with Warwick at Barnet, was turbu- 
 lent in spirit, and so eager for preferment that, in 
 order to make his fortune, he Avould shrink from no 
 crime. When, therefore, summoned to the king's 
 presence, he showed himself even readier to execute 
 the murderous deed than Richard was to intrust 
 him with the commission. 
 
 " Would you venture to kill one of my friends ?" 
 asked Richard.
 
 MURDER OF THE PRINCES 425 
 
 " Yes, my lord," answered Tyrrel ; " but I would 
 rather kill two of your enemies." 
 
 " By St. Paul !" exclaimed Kichard, " that is the 
 very thing. I want to be free from dread of two 
 mortal foes in the Tower." 
 
 "Open the gates to me," said Tyrrel, "and you 
 will not need to fear them longer." 
 
 Kichard, glad to have found a man capable of ex- 
 ecuting his commission, gave Tyrrel letters to Brack- 
 enbury, commanding that he should be intrusted 
 with the custody of the Tower and of the princes 
 for twenty-four hours. Armed with these letters, 
 Tyrrel hied him to London ; and, having freed 
 Brackenbury for a while from the exercise of his 
 official functions, he enlisted in his service a man 
 named Miles Forrest, and a sturdy groom named 
 James Dighton. With the aid of these ruffians, and 
 the sole attendant of the princes, William Slaughter, 
 whom chroniclers call " Black Will," and emphati- 
 cally describe as a " bloody knave," Tyrrel prepared 
 for the murderous deed. 
 
 On a summer night such is the story so often 
 told the two princes were sleeping in an upper 
 chamber of the Tower, in that part of the gloomy 
 strong-hold still pointed out as " the Bloody Tower." 
 Their only attendant was " Black Will ;" but, as 
 clasped in each other's arms they slept the sleep of 
 boyhood, their very innocence seemed a protection.
 
 426 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 While Tyrrel remained outside the door, Forrest and 
 Dighton suddenly stole into the room, prepared to 
 set about the work of murder. The spectacle pre- 
 sented would have melted any other than the hardest 
 hearts ; but Forrest and Dighton were so hardened 
 as to be impervious to emotions of pity, and they 
 proceeded to their task with a shocking brutality. 
 AVrapping the boys tightly in the coverlet, they 
 placed the pillows and feather bed over their mouths 
 till they were stifled ; and then, seeing that their 
 innocent souls had departed, laid the bodies on the 
 bed, and intimated to their employer that all was 
 over. 
 
 Tyrrel, on hearing this, entered the room to see 
 with his own eyes that the horrid commission had 
 been faithfully executed. After satisfying himself 
 on this point, the unworthy knight ordered the 
 bodies of the murdered princes to be buried be- 
 neath the stair, and hastened back to inform the 
 king that his nephews slept in Paradise,
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 A MOCK KING-MAKER. 
 
 AMONG the many men of high estate who aided 
 Richard to usurp the English throne, none played 
 a more conspicuous part than his rival in foppery, 
 Henry Stafford, Duke of Buckingham. No sooner, 
 however, had the Protector been converted into a 
 king than his confederate became malcontent and 
 restlessly eager for change. The death of Warwick, 
 the captivity of John de Vere, the extinction of the 
 Mowbrays and Beauforts, had left the duke one of 
 the most influential among English magnates then 
 alive and at liberty ; and, albeit destitute of prowess 
 and intellect, he appears to have vainly imagined 
 hat he could exercise that kind of influence which 
 had rendered Richard Neville so formidable. But, 
 capable as Buckingham might have deemed himself 
 > !' rivaling " The Stout Earl," who slept with his 
 Montagu ancestors in the Abbey of Bisham, he had 
 none of " the superb and more than regal pride" 
 which rendered the descendant of Cospatrick averse 
 to the gewgaws of royalty. The object of the duke's 
 ambition, when he resolved to break with the usurp- 
 er, appears to have been the crown which he had 
 helped to place on Richard's head.
 
 428 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 With his shallow brain full of ambitious ideas, 
 and hardly deigning to conceal his discontent, Buck- 
 ingham took leave of Richard. On leaving the 
 court of Westminster, he turned his face toward his 
 castle of Brecknock, and by the way regaled his 
 fancy with splendid visions of crowns and sceptres. 
 
 It happened that, on the day before the corona- 
 tion, when Richard released the confederates of 
 Hastings from the Tower, he found John Morton, 
 Bishop of Ely. decidedly hostile to his pretensions. 
 Unable to gain the support of the prelate, but un- 
 willing, on such an occasion, to appear harsh, Rich- 
 ard delivered him to Buckingham, to be sent to 
 Brecknock and gently guarded in that castle. At 
 Brecknock, musing over his experiences as parson 
 of Blokesworth, his expedition to Towton Field, his 
 exile to Verdun, and his promotion to the see of 
 Ely by a Yorkist king, Buckingham met the bishop 
 when he went thither awakened from his dream of 
 royalty, but panting for enterprise, however quix- 
 otic. After so many exciting scenes suppers at 
 Northampton, orations at the Guildhall, deputa- 
 tions to Baynard's Castle, progresses through Lon- 
 don, and coronation banquets at Westminster the 
 duke doubtless found Brecknock intolerably dull. 
 Feeling the want of company, he threw himself in 
 the bishop's way, and gradually surrendered himself 
 to the fascination of the wily churchman's conver-
 
 BUCKINGHAM AND ELY. 42D 
 
 nation. The bishop, perceiving that envy was de- 
 vouring the duke's heart, worked craftily upon his 
 humor ; and Buckingham, exposed to the influence 
 of one of the most adroit politicians of the age, by 
 degrees approached the subject which the bishop 
 was anxious to discuss. 
 
 " I fantasied," such were the duke's words, " that 
 if I list to take upon me the crown, now was the 
 time, when this tyrant was detested of all men, and 
 knowing not of any one that could pretend before 
 me. In this imagination I rested two days at 
 Tewkesbury. But, as I rode between Worcester 
 and Bridgenorth, I met with the Lady Margaret, 
 Countess of Richmond, now wife to the Lord Stan- 
 ley, who is the daughter and sole heir of John, Duke 
 of Somerset, my grandfather's elder brother (who 
 was as clean out of my mind as if I had never seen 
 her) ; so that she and her son, the Earl of Rich- 
 mond, have, both of them, titles before mine ; and 
 then I clearly saw how I was deceived, whereupon 
 I determined utterly to relinquish all such fantastic- 
 al notions concerning the obtaining the crown my- 
 self." 
 
 The bishop listened eagerly, and doubtless felt 
 much relieved at this announcement. He had soon 
 more cause for gratification when Buckingham add- 
 ed, " I find there can be no better way to settle the 
 crown than that the Earl of Richmond, very heir to
 
 430 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the house of Lancaster, should take to wife Lady 
 Elizabeth, eldest daughter to King Edward, the very 
 heir of the house of York, so that the two Roses may 
 be united in one." 
 
 " Since by your grace's incomparable wisdom 
 this noble conjunction is now moved," exclaimed 
 the bishop, almost overcome with joy at the duke's 
 hitting " the mark he had himself aimed at" in form- 
 ing his projects, " it is in the next place necessary 
 to consider what friends we shall first make privy to 
 our intention." 
 
 " By my troth," said the duke, ' we will begin 
 with the Countess of Richmond the earl's mother 
 who knows where he is in Brittany, and whether 
 a captive or at large." 
 
 The conspiracy originated at Brecknock rapidly 
 became formidable. Reginald Bray, a retainer of 
 the Countess of Richmond, was employed to open 
 the business to his mistress ; and the countess, ap- 
 proving of the project, commissioned her physician, 
 Dr. Lewis, to treat with Elizabeth Woodville in the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 Elizabeth interposed no obstacle to a project 
 which promised her daughter a throne ; and Bray, 
 on finding that the negotiation had proved success- 
 ful, was enabled to draw many men of high rank 
 into the conspiracy. John, Lord Welles, true like 
 his ancestors to the Red Rose, prepared to draw his
 
 THE CONSPIRACY OF BRECKNOCK. 431 
 
 sword for Lancaster. Peter Courtenay, Bishop of 
 Exeter, and his brother Sir Edward, a man remark- 
 able for his elegance and destined to wed King Ed- 
 ward's daughter Katherine, undertook to raise the 
 inhabitants of the western counties. Dorset, es- 
 caping from the sanctuary, repaired to Yorkshire, 
 trusting to rouse the men of the north against the 
 usurper. 
 
 Buckingham meanwhile remained at Brecknock, 
 gathering the Welsh to his standard, and dreaming, 
 perhaps, of entering London as Warwick had enter- 
 ed London thirteen years earlier. The duke, in- 
 deed, seems to have had no conception of the hazard 
 to which he was exposing himself. He had been so 
 flattered that he believed himself hedged by the no- 
 bility of his name. He had not the elevation of soul 
 to dream of a Barnet, and he had too much vanity 
 to entertain a prophetic vision of the crowded market- 
 place, the scaffold, and the block, which, with the 
 headsmen, awaited unsuccessful rebellion.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 THE COMING MAX. 
 
 AT the lime when Richard usurped the English 
 throne, a young Welshman was residing at Yannes, 
 in Brittany. His age was thirty ; his stature below 
 the middle height; his complexion fair; his eyes 
 gray ; his hair yellow ; and his countenance would 
 have been pleasing but for an expression indicative 
 of cunning and hypocrisy. It was Henry Tudor, 
 Earl of Richmond, grandson of Owen Tudor, and 
 sole heir of his mother, Margaret Beaufort, grand- 
 daughter of John of Gaunt and Katherine Swyn- 
 ford. 
 
 While passing his time at Yannes, Richmond was 
 one day startled by the arrival of messengers with 
 intelligence that a conspiracy had been formed at 
 Brecknock to place him on the English throne, and 
 give him in marriage a young woman who belonged 
 to the house of York, which lie had detested from 
 his cradle, and who, moreover, had the disadvantage 
 of being considered illegitimate. Richmond does 
 not appear to have received the proposals with en- 
 thusiasm, and matters might never have been brought 
 to a satisfactory issue but for the arrival of the
 
 THE EARL OF RICHMOND. 433 
 
 Bishop of Ely. The prelate, by his diplomacy, how- 
 ever, removed all obstacles, and the Duke of Brit- 
 tany, on being consulted, promised to aid the enter- 
 prise. 
 
 At that period, Dr. Thomas Hutton, a man of 
 intellect and perception, was in Brittany as English 
 embassador, ostensibly to ascertain whether or not 
 Duke Francis gave any countenance to the Wood- 
 villes, but, doubtless, with secret instructions to de- 
 feat the machinations of the exiles at Vannes. Hut- 
 ton, who had an eye to sec and a brain to compre- 
 hend, soon became aware of Buckingham's plot, and 
 endeavored to persuade the Duke of Brittany to de- 
 tain Richmond. But, when the duke, who was al- 
 ready committed, declined to interfere, the embassa- 
 dor sent such intelligence to England as enabled 
 Richard to form a clear notion of the conspiracy 
 formed to hurl him from the throne. 
 
 Nevertheless, Richmond, with forty ships and five 
 thousand Bretons, sailed from St. Malo. But his 
 voyage was the reverse of prosperous ; and on the 
 very evening when the adventurers put to sea a vi- 
 olent tempest dispersed the fleet. Only the ship 
 which carried Richmond, attended by a single bark, 
 held on her course, and reached the mouth of Poole 
 Harbor, on the coast of Dorset. 
 
 And now the Welsh earl had startling proof of 
 Plutton's vigilance. On approaching the English 
 E i:
 
 431 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 coast, Richmond perceived crowds of armed men, 
 and immediately suspected a snare. However, he 
 sent a boat ashore to ascertain whether they were 
 friends or foes, and his messengers returned with in- 
 formation that the soldiers were friends, waiting to 
 escort him to Buckingham's camp. But Richmond, 
 too cautious to land with so slender a force in an 
 enemy's country, resolved on sailing back to St. 
 Malo. The wind being favorable, Richmond soon 
 came in sight of Normandy, and after a short stay 
 on that coast he returned to Brittany. 
 
 Meanwhile, Buckingham's insurrection began, and 
 in autumn Richmond was proclaimed king at vari- 
 ous places in England. At the same time, the 
 duke, at the head of a large body of Welshmen, 
 marched from his castle and moved toward the 
 Severn, his first object being to join the Courte- 
 nays. 
 
 Matters immediately assumed a gloomy aspect; 
 and Buckingham found that heading an insurgent 
 army was less agreeable than dancing with prin- 
 cesses at Windsor, or displaying his gorgeous attire 
 before the citizens of London. While he was blun- 
 dering along the right bank of the Severn in e-earch 
 of a ford, autumnal rains rendered every ford im- 
 passable ; and the river, rapidly overflowing its 
 banks, inundated the country around. A scene re- 
 plete with horrors was the consequence. Houses
 
 BUCKINGHAM'S INSURRECTION. 435 
 
 were overthrown ; men were drowned in Iheir beds ; 
 children were carried about swimming in cradles ; 
 and beasts of burden and beasts of prey were drown- 
 ed in the fields and on the hills. Such a flood had 
 never been experienced within the memory of man ; 
 and, for centuries after, it was remembered along 
 the banks of the Severn as " the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham's water." 
 
 Buckingham was rudely awakened from his de- 
 lusions. The flooded river and broken bridges cre- 
 ated difficulties with which he could not cope. His 
 enterprise from the beginning never very promising 
 became utterly hopeless ; and the Welshmen, los- 
 ing heart and finding no provision made for their 
 subsistence, turned their thoughts affectionately to 
 the rude homes and the rude fare they had left be- 
 hind. The result soon appeared. The Celtic war- 
 riors pretended to regard the flood as a sign that the 
 insurrection was displeasing to Heaven, deserted their 
 standards in crowds, and, without exception, return- 
 ed to their mountains. 
 
 Buckingham now lost courage ; and, while his con- 
 federates Dorset, the Courtenays, Lord Welles, Sir 
 William Brandon, and Sir John Cheyney escaped 
 to Richmond in Brittany, the duke fled to Shrews- 
 bury, and took refuge in the house of one of his re- 
 tainers, named Humphrey Bannister. Tempted by 
 the reward offered for Buckingham's apprehension,
 
 430 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Bannister betrayed his master ; and the duke, hav- 
 ing been conveyed to Salisbury, was beheaded, with- 
 out trial, in the market-place. 
 
 "When the conspiracy of Brecknock had been 
 crushed, Richard summoned a Parliament, which 
 declared him lawful sovereign, entailed the crown 
 on his son, and passed a bill of attainder against 
 those who had taken part in Buckingham's attempt 
 at king-making. Nevertheless, Richard did not feel 
 secure. The dread of an invasion, and of his ene- 
 mies uniting Richmond and Elizabeth, kept the 
 usurper uneasy, and he set himself boldly to the 
 scheme of getting both the Welsh earl and the En- 
 glish princess in his power. The persons who could 
 aid him in this were Peter Landois and Elizabeth 
 Woodville. 
 
 The Duke of Brittany now reigned no longer save 
 in name, and Peter Landois son of a tailor ruled 
 the province with more than ducal power. Peter, 
 though elevated to so high a position, was not proof 
 to the temptation of a bribe ; and Richard, by means 
 of gold, converted him from a friend to an enemy 
 of Richmond, and obtained his promise to send the 
 Welsh carl a prisoner into England. 
 
 With Elizabeth Woodville Richard was equally 
 successful. That lady, weary of the sanctuary, not 
 only listened to his proposals, but went with her 
 daughters to court, where Elizabeth, the eldest, was
 
 RICHARD'S SCHEMKS. 437 
 
 treated with the utmost distinction. Richard is sup- 
 posed to have intended to match the princess with 
 his son, a boy of eleven, but the death of the prince 
 at Middleham defeated this plan for reconciling con- 
 flicting claims. 
 
 No sooner, however, had Kichard recovered from 
 the grief caused by the death of his son, than he 
 formed a new scheme for keeping Elizabeth in his 
 family. His queen, the Anne Neville of other days, 
 was in feeble health ; and Kichard, under the im- 
 pression that she could not live long, determined to 
 obtain a dispensation from Rome, and marry the 
 princess. 
 
 Neither mother nor daughter appear to have ob- 
 jected to this scandalous project. Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville wrote to the Marquis of Dorset to abandon 
 Richmond's cause, as she had formed a better plan 
 for her family ; and Elizabeth of York, at the in- 
 stigation of her mother, no doubt, wrote to Sir John 
 Howard, now Duke of Norfolk, expressing her sur- 
 pi-ise that the queen should be so long in dying. 
 
 At length, in March, 1485, Anne Neville breathed 
 her last, and Richard consulted Catesby and Rat- 
 cliffe as to the policy of espousing Elizabeth. Both 
 protested against the project, declaring that such a 
 marriage would shock both clergy and populace, and 
 would, moreover, alienate the men of the north, 
 hitherto so faithful to Richard as the husband of
 
 i:;s THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Lord Warwick's daughter. Kichard, convinced, 
 banished all thought of marrying Elizabeth ; and, 
 having sent her for security to the Castle of Sher- 
 iff Hutton, he prepared to encounter the coming 
 man.
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 FROM BRITTANY TO BOSWORTH. 
 
 Ox Christmas day, 1483, a memorable scene was 
 enacted in the capital of Brittany. On that day, 
 Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, appeared in the 
 Cathedral of Rennes ; before the high altar, and in 
 the presence of the Marquis of Dorset and many 
 other exiles the Welsh earl swore, in the event of 
 being placed on the English throne, to espouse Eliz- 
 abeth of York, and thereupon the marquis, with the 
 other lords and knights, did him homage as to their 
 sovereign. On the same day Richmond and the 
 English exiles took the sacrament, and bound them- 
 selves by oath never to desist from making war 
 against King Richard till they accomplished his de- 
 struction or his dethronement. 
 
 Within twelve months after this solemn ceremony, 
 and while Richmond was musing over his prospects, 
 his mother's chaplain one day arrived with a mes- 
 sage to the effect that the Welsh earl was no longer 
 safe in Brittany ; and, after considering the matter, 
 Richmond resolved upon an escape, and prepared to 
 be gone. With this view he announced his intention 
 to visit a friend in a neighboring village, and, with-
 
 440 THK WARS OF TI1K KOSKS 
 
 out delay, mounted his horse :is it' to proceed on the 
 way thither. After riding five miles, however, he 
 entered a wood, and hastily exchanged clothes with 
 one of his servants. Having assumed the character 
 of a valet, Richmond again mounted, and traveling 
 by by-paths without halting, save to bait the hor.-r-. 
 he reached Angers, and, accompanied by the exiled 
 lords, pursued his way to the court of Franco. 
 
 Events had recently occurred at the French court 
 which secured Richmond a favorable reception. In 
 the summer of 1483, Louis the Crafty had drawn 
 his last breath, his son Charles then being a boy of 
 thirteen. A struggle for power began between the 
 young king's sister Anne, wife of the Sire de Heau- 
 jieu, and Louis, Duke of Orleans, heir-presumptive 
 to the throne. Orleans, it seems, had formed an 
 alliance with Richard ; and Anne, from considera- 
 tions of policy, determined to assist Richmond. 
 
 At Paris, therefore, Richmond was received with 
 distinction ; and, ere long, Anne, in the young king's 
 name, agreed to furnish him with money and men 
 to undertake an expedition against the King of En- 
 gland. Richmond then commenced preparations for 
 the great adventure. 
 
 Matters, ho A \vr. did not go quite smoothly ; and 
 Dorset, despairing, resolved to avail himself of Eliz- 
 beth Woodville's invitation ; and, with this view, 
 the marquis, who, though young, appears to have
 
 HENIIV TUDOR AT PARIS. 4-11 
 
 been false and calculating as his mother, forgot his 
 oath in the Cathedral of Rennes, and left Paris se- 
 cretly by night. His disappearance caused some 
 consternation ; for, though in most respects a man 
 of arms would have been a greater loss, he was pos- 
 ><'>:-ed of information which, conveyed to Richard, 
 would have ruined every thing. Humphrey Chey- 
 ney, one of Sir John's brothers, was therefore dis- 
 patched in pursuit, and succeeded in bringing the 
 renegade back to Paris. 
 
 Ere the escape of the marquis, Richmond had 
 been joined by an Englishman whose presence lent 
 dignity to the enterprise, and would have more than 
 compensated for the loss of five hundred Dorset?. 
 
 A long and weary captivity, during which his 
 only son had died in the Tower, and his wife lived 
 by needle-work, had not broken the spirit of Ox- 
 ford's earl. John De Vere was still ready for ad- 
 venture ; and no sooner did he learn that the parti- 
 sans of the Red Rose were in motion, than, becom- 
 ing eager to leave Ilammes, he tried his eloquence 
 on James Blount, captain of the fortress. Oxford's 
 success was more signal than he anticipated. Won, 
 and touched with admiration at the degree of cour- 
 age that animated the earl after so long a captivity, 
 Blount not only consented to set Oxford at liberty, 
 but offered to accompany him to Richmond, and 
 place the fortress at the adventurer's service. They
 
 442 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 went ; and Richmond was delighted to have such a 
 castle as Hammes at his disposal, and such a pa- 
 trician as John De Vere at his^right hand. 
 
 All that could be done in Paris having been ac- 
 complished, Richmond put Dorset in pledge for the 
 money he had borrowed, and left the court of Paris 
 for Harfleur. Having made all preparations, he and 
 his English friends embarked, with a few pieces of 
 artillery and about three thousand men, collected 
 from the jails and hospitals of Normandy and Brit- 
 tany, and described by Comines as " the loosest and 
 most profligate fellows of all the country." On the 
 last day of July, 1485 it was a Sunday the ar- 
 mament, leaving the mouth of the Seine, put to sea, 
 and Richmond ordered the mariners to steer for 
 Wales. The voyage was free from such disasters as 
 attended Richmond's former expedition ; and, after 
 having been six days at sea, the adventurers sailed 
 safely into Milford Haven. At the grand national 
 harbor, which gives importance to that part of South 
 Wales, Richmond debarked his soldiers without 
 challenge. 
 
 On the morning of Sunday, the 21st of August, 
 about three weeks after his landing, Richmond, hav- 
 ing marched from Milford Haven without a check, 
 encamped in Leicestershire at a place then known in 
 the locality as "\Vhitemoors, and erected his standard 
 on the margin of a rivulet now known in the locality
 
 RICHMOND'S CAMP 443 
 
 as the Tweed. To the north of Richmond's camp 
 was a morass, and beyond the morass a spacious 
 plain nearly surrounded by hills. At the farthest 
 verge of these hills, about three miles north from 
 the camp, but concealed from view by the elevated 
 ground that intervened, was a little town, to which 
 the inhabitants of that part of Leicestershire were 
 long in the habit of repairing weekly to market. 
 Since that time, however, the name of that market- 
 town has become famous as the scene of a great 
 battle, which destroyed a dynasty and overturned a 
 throne. It was Bosworth.
 
 CHAPTER XLTX. 
 
 RICHARD BEFORE BOSWORTH. 
 
 WHILE Oxford was leaving Hammes, and Rich- 
 mond was at Paris maturing his projects, and Regi- 
 nald Bray was carrying messages from the English 
 malcontents to the Welsh carl, the king appears to 
 have been unaware of the magnitude of his danger. 
 
 Richard was not, however, the man to be sur-> 
 prised by armed foemen in the recesses of a palace. 
 No sooner did he hear of an armament at the mouth 
 of the Seine, than Lord Lovel was stationed at 
 Southampton, Sir John Savage commissioned to 
 guard the coasts of Cheshire, and Rice ap Thomas 
 intrusted with the defense of Wales. At the same 
 time, Richard issued a proclamation, describing 
 Richmond as " one Henry Tudor, descended of 
 bastard blood both by father's and mother's side ;" 
 who could have no claim to the crown but by con- 
 quest ; who had agreed to give up Calais to France ; 
 and who intended to subvert the ancient laws and 
 liberties of England. 
 
 Having thus endeavored to excite the patriotism 
 of the populace, Richard, about midsummer, set up 
 his standard at Nottingham, and around it, with the
 
 EVE OF THE LAST STRUGGLE. 445 
 
 Earl of Northumberland at their head, came the 
 men of the north in thousands. While keeping his 
 state in Nottingham Castle, Richard heard of Rich- 
 mond's landing at Milford Haven, and soon after 
 learned, with indignation, that Rice ap Thomas had 
 proved false ; that {Sir Gilbert Talbot, with two 
 thousand retainers of his nephew, the young Earl 
 of Shrewsbury, had joined the invaders ; that, after 
 leaving Shrewsbury, Richmond had pursued his way 
 through Newport to Stafford, and from Stafford to 
 Lichfield, and that men were rapidly gathering to 
 his standard. Vowing vengeance, the king issued 
 orders that his army should forthwith march south- 
 ward to Leicester. 
 
 Meanwhile, many of the lords whom Richard had 
 summoned did not appear ; and Lord Stanley, feel- 
 ing that he, as husband of the Countess of Rich- 
 mond, was peculiarly liable to suspicion, sent to say 
 that sickness alone kept him from his sovereign's 
 side at such a crisis. But this apology did not 
 prove satisfactory ; and Richard having Stanley's 
 eon, Lord Strange, in the camp, ordered him to be 
 secured, and made it understood that the son's life 
 depended on the sire's loyalty. 
 
 It was the evening of Tuesday, the 10th of August, 
 when Richai'd, mounted on a tall white charger, en- 
 vironed by his guard and followed by his infantry, 
 entered Leicester ; and as the castle was too much
 
 446 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 dilapidated to accommodate a king, he was lodged 
 in one of those antique edifices, half brick, half 
 timber, that have gradually given way to modern 
 buildings. In a room of this house, long known as 
 "The old Blue Boar," Richard slept during his stay 
 at Leicester on a remarkable bedstead of wood, 
 which had a false bottom, and served him as a mil- 
 itary chest. After the battle of Bosworth this 
 strange piece of furniture was found to contain a 
 large sum of money, and it was long preserved in 
 Leicester as a memorial of King Richard's visit to 
 that city. 
 
 While Richard was at Leicester, fighting men 
 came in to his aid. There he was joined by John 
 Howard, Duke of Norfolk, by Thomas, Earl of Sur- 
 rey, by Lord Lovel, and by Sir Robert Bracken- 
 bury. But with them came farther tidings of de- 
 sertion ; for at Stony Stratford, Sir Walter Hungei\ 
 ford and Sir Thomas Bourchier, son of Sir Humphrey, 
 who fell at Barnet, feeling that they were not trust- 
 ed, deserted Brackenbury, and much as they owed 
 to Richard went straight to Richmond's camp. 
 
 Nevertheless, the king's courage continued high ; 
 and on the morning of Sunday, the 21st. having, it 
 would appear, been previously out of the city look- 
 ing for his foes, he rode from Leicester toward Market 
 Bosworth, in the hope of an early meeting. On the 
 way, it was necessary for him to pass over Bow
 
 THE ROYAL CAMP. 417 
 
 Bridge, which crossed the Stoure on the west side 
 of the town. Upon this bridge, according to tradi- 
 tion, was a stone of such height that, in riding by, 
 Richard happened to strike it with his spur. An 
 old woman, who was supposed to practice, in a 
 humble way, the arts which the populace associated 
 with the names of Friar Bungey and the Duchess 
 of Bedford, thereupon shook her head, and on being 
 asked what would be the king's fortune, she answer- 
 ed, " Where his spur struck, there shall his head be 
 broken." 
 
 After inarching about eight miles, Richard came 
 in sight of Richmond's army, and encamped for the 
 day near the Abbey of Miraville. In the evening, 
 however, he moved forward to within a mile of the 
 town of Bosworth, and posted his army strongly on 
 Amyon Hill, an acclivity with a steep descent on 
 all sides, but steepest toward the north, or Bosworth 
 side, and least so toward the south, where, with a 
 morass intervening, Richmond's army lay. Lord 
 Stanley still remained at Stapleton. His brother, 
 Sir William Stanley, had not yet arrived. 
 
 When that August day drew to a close, and dark- 
 ness concealed the hostile armies from each other's 
 view, Richard retired to rest. Repose, however, was 
 not granted, so disturbed were his slumbers and so 
 alarming his dreams ; and at daybreak he had far- 
 ther evidence of the spirit of treachery that pre-
 
 418 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 vailed in his camp. During the night, Sir John 
 Savage, Sir Simon Digby, and Sir Brian Sandford 
 had gone over to Richmond. The desertion of Sav- 
 age was of no slight consequence, for he was Lord 
 Stanley's nephew, and he led the men of Cheshire. 
 
 Xor was the desertion of Savage, Digby, and 
 Sandford the most alarming incident. A mysteri- 
 ous warning in rhyme, attached, during the night, 
 to the tent of the new Duke of Norfolk,* seemed 
 to intimate that the king's prospects were worse 
 than they yet seemed ; for still, to all appearance, 
 Richard's army was comparatively formidable. It 
 was not merely by Brackenbury, and by Cat 
 Ratcliffe, and Lovcl, whose names had been render- 
 ed familiar by Collingborn's rhyme, that the usurper 
 found himself surrounded on that memorable morn- 
 ing. On the king's side, Northumberland still re- 
 mained, somewhat reserved, perhaps, but raising no 
 suspicion of .he treachery of which he was about to 
 be guilty. On the king's fide, also, appeared John, 
 Lord Zouche, and Walter Dcvereux, Lord Ferrers 
 of Chartley, and Sir Gervase Clifton, albut the son 
 of the Lancastrian executed after Tewkesbury. And 
 not the least conspicuous, decked out in the trap- 
 pings of the Mowbravs. and reminding contempo- 
 raries of the jackass in the lion's skin, figured Sir 
 
 * '-Jocky of Norfolk, he not too bold. 
 
 For Dickon, thy muster, is hotipht anil sold."
 
 THE KING AND LORD STANLEY. 449 
 
 John Howard, for once in his life acting with hon- 
 esty, and prepared to prove his gratitude for the 
 dukedom he had long coveted. 
 
 All this time, however, the intentions of Lord 
 Stanley were doubtful. Hitherto the wary baron 
 had kept his counsel so well that even his own 
 brother, who had come with three thousand men 
 from Stafford, and encamped to the king's right, 
 \V:H unaware of his intentions. 
 
 When, however, the morning advanced, and the 
 hostile armies prepared for battle, and Lord Stan- 
 ley, moving slowly forward, posted his men midway 
 bstween the two armies, Richard lo.st temper, and 
 resolved to try the influence of a menace. He there- 
 fore sent a pursuivant-at-arms to command Lord 
 Stanley's attendance, and to intimate that he had 
 sworn by CHRIST'S passion, in case of not being 
 obeyed, to strike off Lord Strange's head. Lord 
 Stanley, however, remained resolute. " If the king 
 cut off Strange's head," said the grim baron, "I have 
 more sons alive. He may do his pleasure ; but to 
 come to him I am not now determined." Enraged 
 at this answer, Richard ordered Strange to be led 
 forth to execution ; but his advisers agreed that it 
 was better to keep the prisoner till after the battle. 
 "It was now," they said, " the time to fight, not to 
 execute ;" and Richard, perhaps thinking that, while 
 the son's life hung in the balance, there was a chance 
 FF
 
 4o<> THE \VAKS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 of the father repeating the part so well played at 
 Bloreheath. placed Strange in the custody of his 
 tent-keeper, and girded on his. armor for a great 
 struggle to retain the crown he had usurped. 
 
 And who can doubt that, in such an hour, other 
 than selfish motives animated the last Plantagenet 
 king? "With all his faults, Kichard was an English- 
 man, and a man of genius ; and his patriotism and 
 his pride must have been shocked at the possibility 
 of the throne, from which the first and the third Ed- 
 ward had commanded the respect of Europe, becom- 
 ing the perch of an adventurer, who would never 
 have been heard of but for a Welsh soldier having 
 made too elaborate a pirouette while enacting the 
 part of court fool.
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 BOSWORTH FIELD. 
 
 ti vros the morning of Monday, the 22d of August, 
 en the Yorkist usurper and the Lancastrian 
 i-er mustered their forces on the field of Bos- 
 worth, a'id pi-epared for that conflict which decided 
 the thirty years' War of the Roses. 
 
 On the <5ve of a struggle which subsequent events 
 rendered so memorable, Richard was not quite him- 
 self. For days his temper had been frequently tried 
 by news ot desertion, and for nights his rest had been 
 broken by dreams of disaster. Nevertheless, he pre- 
 pared for little with energy. The honor of leading 
 the van, wliich was constituted of archers, flanked 
 with cuirassiers, fell to the Duke of Norfolk, and 
 his son th,j Earl of Surrey. The main battle, con- 
 sisting of choice bill-men, empaled with pikes, and 
 formed into, a dense square, with wings of cavalry 
 on either side, the king took under his own auspices. 
 The rear-guard was under the command of North- 
 umberland. Besides, Richard's artillery was the re- 
 verse of contemptible ; and, altogether, he had little 
 to fear save from the treachery of his adherents. 
 
 Richmond, meantime, growing uneasy in the preS"
 
 452 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 cncc of a foe so redoubted, sent to ask Lord Stanley 
 to come and assist lain in marshaling his army. 
 The answer of the Countess of Richmond's husband 
 was not quite satisfactory to his, step-son. Indeed, 
 Stanley gave the messenger to understand that no 
 aid need be expected from him till the armies joined 
 battle, and he only committed himself so far as tu 
 advise that the onset should be made without delay. 
 Richmond was staggered at Stanley's answer. 
 The AYelsh earl's situation was indeed painful and 
 perplexing. He knew that his army was scarcely 
 half so numerous as the king's, and he could not 
 but be conscious of his immeasurable inferiority as 
 a general. Retreat, however, was impossible ; and. 
 after holding a council of war, Richmond resolved 
 on fighting forthwith. This resolution having been 
 arrived at, the Lancastrian army was set in order 
 for battle. Oxford took the command of the van, 
 Avhich consisted principally of archers. Richmond 
 whose standard was borne by Sir William Brandon 
 undertook to command the main body ; and in his 
 rear, with a body of horsemen and some bills and 
 pikes, was posted Jasper Tudor, whose age and ex- 
 perience, it was probably hoped, would compensate 
 in some measure for his nephew's lack of military 
 skill and prowess. Besides, Richmond's army had 
 two wings. Of these one was commanded by Sir 
 Gilbert Talbot, the other by Sir John Savage.
 
 THE USURPER AND THE ADVENTURER. 453 
 
 His preparations made, and his armor girded on 
 except the helmet, Richmond, to encourage hi.s army, 
 rode from rank to rank, and many of the Lancas- 
 trian soldiers for the first time saw the man who 
 represented himself as the heir of John of Gaunt. 
 The aspect of the adventurer must have disappoint- 
 ed those who had pictured, in imagination, such a 
 chief as the conqueror of Towton and Tewkesbury. 
 Nature had denied Richmond kingly proportions ; 
 and his appearance, though not positively mean, 
 was far from majestic ; while his countenance wore 
 an expression which indicated too clearly that ten- 
 dency to knavery destined to be so rapidly devel- 
 oped. 
 
 After riding along his lines, Richmond halted, 
 and from an elevated part of the field addressed to 
 his army one of those battle-field orations which 
 were in fashion at the period. Dealing with such 
 topics as were most likely to inflame his partisans 
 against the usurper, he was listened to with sym- 
 pathy ; and perceiving, as he pronounced the words, 
 " Get this day, and be conquerors ; lose the battle, 
 and be slaves," that an impression had been pro- 
 duced, he added, " In the name of GOD, then, and 
 of St. George, let every man advance his banner." 
 At these words Sir AVilliam Brandon raised the 
 Tudor' s standard ; the trumpets sounded an onset ; 
 and Richmond, keeping the morass to his right, led
 
 454 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 the Lancastrians, with the sun on their backs, slow- 
 ly up the ascent toward Amyon Hill. 
 
 Ere this, Richard had mounted his tall steed 
 the White Surrey of Shakspeare ascended an em- 
 inence, since known as ''Dickon's Mount," called 
 his captains together, and addressed them as his 
 "most faithful and assured friends." The speech, 
 not umvorthy of one whom his enemies confess to 
 have been " a king jealous of the honor of England," 
 elicited some degree of enthusiasm ; but Richard 
 must have sighed as he recalled to memory how en- 
 thusiastic, in comparison, had been the burst of 
 sympathy which rose from Edward's soldiers on the 
 field of Jiarnet. The bold usurper, however, ap- 
 peared undismayed. " Let every one," he said in 
 conclusion, " strike but one sure blow, and certainly 
 the day will b9 ours. Wherefore, advance banners, 
 sound trumpets ; St. George be our aid ; and GOD 
 grant us victory !" 
 
 As the king concluded, and placed his helmet, 
 with a crown of ornament, on his brow, the York- 
 ists raised a shout, sounded trumpets, and moved 
 down the hill ; and, with banners flying and plumes 
 waving, the hostile armies came hand to hand. 
 
 The day opened not inauspiciously for Richard. 
 Ili> army would be little inferior to that of his ad- 
 versaries even should Stanley join Richmond ; and 
 his position on Amyon Hill had been selected with
 
 DE VERE IN THE VAN. 455 
 
 judgment. Moreover, to intimidate and outflank 
 the foe, he had extended his van to an unusual 
 length, and this artifice proved so far successful, at 
 least, that Oxford was somewhat dismayed at the 
 danger that threatened his scanty ranks. 
 
 Oxford, however, was a leader of extraordinary 
 calibre. He had not, indeed, seen many fields, but 
 to him Barnet had been worth thirty years of ex- 
 perience to men not gifted with the military genius 
 which rendered the Anglo-Norman barons such for- 
 midable war-chiefs. Over the events of that disas- 
 trous day the earl may be supposed to have mused 
 for twelve years in his prison at Hammes, and to 
 have learned, in sadness and solitude, wholesome 
 lessons for his guidance in the event of being again 
 called to encounter the warriors of the White Rose. 
 The day had now arrived, and John De Vere was 
 resolved not to be outwitted either by " Jocky of 
 Norfolk" or " Dickon his master." 
 
 No sooner did Oxford's men come to close en- 
 counter with those under Norfolk, than the earl saw 
 that he was exposed to danger. Without loss of 
 time, he issued orders that no soldier should move 
 ten yards from his colors. Their leader's motive 
 not being understood, the men hurriedly closed their 
 ranks and ceased from fighting ; and the enemy, 
 suspicious of some stratagem, likewise drew back 
 from the conflict. Oxford quickly availed himself
 
 456 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 of this pause in the battle, and, placing his men in 
 the form of a wedge, he made a furious attack on 
 the foe. At the same time, Lord Stanley, who, 
 when the armies moved, had placed himself on 
 Richmond's right hand to oppose the front of the 
 royal van, charged with ardor ; and Norfolk would 
 have been exposed to a danger similar to that from 
 which Oxford had just been freed, if, while Oxford 
 was forming the Lanca>trian van into a wedge, 
 Richard had not arrayed anew that of the Yorkists 
 placing thin lines in front, and supporting them 
 by dense masses. 
 
 Both armies having thus been re-formed, proceed- 
 ed with the battle. But it soon appeared that, how- 
 ever equal the antagonistic forces might be in num- 
 ber, the zeal was all on the side of the Red Rose. 
 Moreover, Northumberland, who commanded the 
 rear one third of Richard's army refrained from 
 taking any part whatever in the conflict ; and futile 
 proved the king's expectation of aid from the po- 
 tent northern earl. 
 
 The battle had not been long joined ere the field 
 wore an aspect most unfavorable to Richard. Nor- 
 folk, indeed, fought resolutely in the van ; but, out- 
 numbered and hard-pressed by Oxford and Stanley, 
 he was slowly but surely giving way ; and the men 
 composing the king's division exerted themselves 
 faintly, and exhibited little of such enthusiasm as
 
 ENCOUNTERS. 45? 
 
 might have carried them on to victory against su- 
 perior numbers. 
 
 Amid the smoke of artillery and the roar of bat- 
 tle, Sir Robert Brackenbury and Sir Walter Hunger- 
 ford met face to face. 
 
 "Traitor," exclaimed Brackenbury, "what caused 
 you to desert me ?" 
 
 " I will not answer you with words," said Hun- 
 gerford, taking aim at the head of his ancient com- 
 rade. 
 
 The blow would have been fatal ; but Bracken- 
 bury received its force on his shield, which wa? 
 shivered in protecting its owner's head; and Hun- 
 gerford, perceiving his antagonist's defenseless plight, 
 chivalrously declared that they should fight on equal 
 terms, and handed his own shield to a squire. The 
 combat was then renewed, and both knights exerted 
 their utmost strength. At length Brackenbury's 
 helmet was battered to pieces, and his adversary's 
 weapon inflicted a severe wound. " Spare his life, 
 brave Hungerford," cried Sir Thomas Bourchier, 
 coming up ; " he was our friend, and he may be so 
 again." But it was already too late to save the 
 wounded knight. As Bourchier spoke, Bracken- 
 bury fell lifeless to the ground. 
 
 In another part of the field met Sir John Byron 
 and Sir (.Icrvase Clifton. The two knights were 
 neighbors in the county of Nottingham, and, before
 
 453 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 embracing opposite side?, had made a singular con- 
 tract. ' Byron, who donned the lied Rose, agreed, 
 in the event of Richmond being victor, to intercede 
 for the heirs of Clifton ; and Clifton, who assumed 
 the White Rose, promised, in case of Richard's suc- 
 ((', to exercise his utmost influence on behalf of 
 Byron's family. Byron, seeing Clifton fall, instant- 
 ly pressed forward to save him ; and, sustaining his 
 wounded friend on a shield, entreated him to sur- 
 render. Clifton opened his eyes, recognized his 
 neighbor, and recalled their agreement to memory. 
 "All is over with me," he said, faintly; "but re- 
 member your promise." Byron pressed the hand 
 of Clifton as the Yorkist warrior expired, and he 
 kept the promise so faithfully that Clifton's estates 
 remained in possession of his children. 
 
 About this time Richard rode out of the battle, 
 and dismounted to quench his thirst at a spring of 
 water on Amyon Hill, now covered with a pyramid 
 of rough stones, indicated by Dr. Parr's inscription 
 in Roman letters, and pointed out to strangers as 
 " King Richard's Well ;" and Catesby and other of 
 the usurper's friends, believing defeat inevitable, 
 brought one of those fleet steeds which, on such 
 occasions, seldom failed their riders. 
 
 " The field is lost, but the king can yet be saved," 
 they said as the Avar-cries, reaching their ears through 
 the roar of bombards and the din of battle, intimated
 
 KING RICHARD'S FAMOUS CHARGE. 459 
 
 that Oxford and Stanley were overmatching the 
 Howards, and that, ere long, the shout would be 
 "Kichmond and victory." 
 
 " Mount, my lord," said Catesby ; " I hold it time 
 for you to fly. Stanley's dints are so sore that 
 against them can no man stand. Fly ! Another 
 day we may worship again." 
 
 " Fly !" exclaimed Richard. " By St. Paul, not 
 one foot. I will either make an end of all battles 
 this day, or finish my life on this field. I will die 
 King of England." 
 
 His determination thus expressed, Richard mount- 
 ed his charger, hastily closed his visor, and again 
 faced the field. By this time it appeared that the 
 day would be decided by the vans. Richard, not 
 altogether willing to stake his crown on the gener- 
 alship of the Howards, spurred from his right cen- 
 tre to see how the conflict went ; and, at the same 
 moment, Richmond, surrounded by his guard, left 
 his main body, and rode forward to encourage the 
 men under Oxford and Stanley. Thus it happened 
 that the king and the Welsh earl came in sight of 
 each other; and no sooner was Richard aware of 
 Richmond being within reach, than the temptation 
 to single out the hostile leader became too strong to 
 be resisted. 
 
 And never during the battles of the Roses nei- 
 ther in the mist at Barnet, nor in the sunshine at
 
 460 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Tewkesbury luul Richard made himself so formi- 
 dable as in that hour. "With his lance in rest, and 
 followed by choice warriors, he dashed toward the 
 spot where the banner borne by Sir William Bran- 
 don indicated Richmond's presence. The white 
 war-steed, the gorgeous armor, the crown of orna- 
 ment, rendered Richard conspicuous as he spurred 
 forward, and fierce was the onset as he charged 
 among the knights who clustered around the Lan- 
 castrian chief. Vain were all efforts to bar his prog- 
 ress. Richmond's standard was trampled in the 
 dust ; Sir "William Brandon, pierced with a mor- 
 tal wound, fell never more to rise ; Sir John Chey- 
 ney, throwing his bulky form in Richard's path, 
 was hurled from his horse ; and the Welsh earl, all 
 unused to the game of carnage, was in the utmost 
 peril. His destruction, indeed, appeared inevitable. 
 The Lancastrian warriors, however, spurred to the 
 rescue, and shielded the adventurer's head from the 
 usurper's hand. 
 
 But most doubtful now was the issue of the con- 
 flict. The desperate charge of Richard had created 
 a panic among his foes, and there was some prospect 
 of Richmond having to choose between dying brave- 
 ly and flying cravenly, when a circumstance, not un- 
 expected, changed the aspect of the field. 
 
 Sir William Stanley had hitherto remained a spec- 
 tator of the fight. Having ever been a devoted
 
 RICHARD'S DEFEAT AND DEATH. 461 
 
 Yorkist, perhaps the gallant knight, hating Richard 
 as he did, was not eager to draw the sword for Lan- 
 caster against a Yorkist, even though a usurper. 
 When, however, Richard's triumph was likely to re- 
 sult from his inaction, Stanley came with a shout to 
 Richmond's aid ; and this accession of force to the 
 Lancastrians so completely turned the scale, that no 
 chance of victory remained for Richard, unless, in- 
 deed, the chief of the Percies should lead the tall 
 Danes of the north to the rescue. 
 
 But Stanley charged on, and the conflict became 
 a rout ; and the Yorkist warriors, attacked with 
 energy, gave way in a body ; and, still, Northum- 
 berland maintained his position, and, having order- 
 ed his soldiers to throw down their weapons, stood 
 motionless while fliers and pursuers swept by. 
 
 LordLovel and other Yorkists of name made their 
 escape. But, as at Barnet and Tewkesbury, so also 
 at Bosworth, men of high spirit disdained to fly or 
 yield. John Howard, Duke of Norfolk, fighting in 
 the van, redeemed a mean life by a not inglorious 
 death ; Walter, Lord Ferrers, died with courage, as 
 he had lived with honor ; and Sir Richard RatclifFe 
 partially Aviped away his disgrace by falling bravely 
 for the sovereign whom he had too faithfully served. 
 Lord Surrey and Sir William Catesby were taken 
 on the field. Northumberland quietly surrendered. 
 
 Richard now felt that he was face to face with 
 his destiny ; and, in the hour of defeat and despair,
 
 462 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 he did not shrink from the fate he had defied. In- 
 deed, the valor he displayed in his last moments ex- 
 cited admiration even in adversaries. Rising in his 
 stirrups as he saw his standard-bearer cut down, 
 and shouting loudly that he had been betrayed, the 
 usurper spurred into the midst of his foes, and made 
 his sword ring on helmet and shield. Not till un- 
 horsed did he cease to fight desperately. Even 
 then, his shield broken, his armor bruised, and the 
 crown of ornament hewn from his helmet, Richard 
 continued to struggle. At length, exhausted with 
 fatigue, and pierced with many wounds, he died 
 disdainfully, with the word "Treason" on his 
 tongue. 
 
 Ere the warriors of the Red Rose had time to 
 moralize over the fall of the last Plantagenet king, 
 Richmond, unwounded in the dreadful scene with 
 which the conflict closed, and feeling like a man 
 saved from imminent peril of drowning, threw him- 
 self on his knees, and returned thanks to GOD for 
 victory. Then he rose, and expressed gratitude to 
 those who had aided him in his enterprise ; and 
 Reginald Bray, bringing Richard's crown from a 
 bush, on which that ornament had been hung, hand- 
 ed it to Lord Stanley, and Stanley placed it on the 
 victor's head ; and the soldiers cried, " Long live 
 Henry the Seventh;" and the monarchy of the 
 Flantagenets ceased to exist.
 
 ran I/AST TT.ANTAGENHT KING.
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 AFTER BOSWORTH. 
 
 WHEN the battle of Bosworth was over, and 
 Richmond, with John De Vere, and Jasper of Pem- 
 broke, and the Stanleys, including Lord Strange, 
 stood around the mangled corpse of Richard, the 
 prisoners were brought before the victor. Among 
 them appeared William Catesby, and the Earls of 
 Surrey and Northumberland. 
 
 Northumberland was readily received into favor. 
 Surrey, when asked how he durst bear arms for the 
 usurper, answered, " If the Parliament of England 
 set the crown upon a bush, I would fight for it." 
 Richmond was softened by this speech, and Surrey 
 was spared to fight for the Tudors at Flodden, and 
 to wear the ducal coronet of the Mowbrays. Cates- 
 by, less fortunate than the two earls, was summari- 
 ly executed. Dr. Hutton, who, according to tra- 
 dition, was one of " the Huttons of that Ilk," sought 
 safety north of the Tweed. 
 
 From Bosworth Richmond marched to Leicester, 
 and thither, covered with blood and dust, hung 
 across a horse, behind a pursuivant-at-arms, the feet 
 Go
 
 466 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 dangling on one fide and the hands on the other, the 
 body of King Richard was carried. As the man- 
 gled corpse was conveyed over Bow Bridge, the 
 head dashed violently against the stone which Rich- 
 ard had, the day before, struck with his spur 
 " thus," say the old chroniclers, " fulfilling the pre- 
 diction of the wise woman." 
 
 After being exposed to view in the Town Hall of 
 Leicester, Richard's body was buried in the Grey 
 Friars' Church, and Richmond slowly advanced to- 
 ward London. At Hornsey Wood he was met and 
 welcomed by the mayor and aldermen, all clad in 
 violet. Having been escorted to St. Paul's, he re- 
 turned thanks to GOD for his victory, and offered 
 three standards upon the high altar. 
 
 After some delay, Richmond appointed the 30th 
 of October, 1485, for his coronation ; and on that 
 day the old Archbishop of Canterbury anointed the 
 adventurer, as two years earlier he had anointed the 
 usurper. All the ancient ceremonies were observed ; 
 and Richmond availed himself of the occasion to el- 
 evate Lord Stanley to the Earldom of Derby, Sir 
 Edward Courtenay to the Earldom of Devon, and 
 Jasper Tudor to the Dukedom of Bedford the old 
 duchess, Elizabeth "Woodville's mother, having gone 
 to her account at the time when peace and pros- 
 perity surrounded the throne of her son-in-law, 
 and when "NVilliam Caxton was setting up his
 
 RICHMOND CROWNED AT WESTMINSTER. 4C7 
 
 printing-press under the patronage of the White 
 Rose.* 
 
 A week after Richmond's coronation Parliament 
 assembled at "Westminster. Richard's adherents 
 were declared traitors, while Do Vere, De Roos, 
 Beaumont, Welles, and others were restored ; and 
 the heir of the Cliffords, who had passed his youth 
 in the garb of a shepherd, emerged at thirty from 
 the fells of Cumberland, and lived to lead the men 
 of the Craven to Flodden Field. 
 
 But of all who suffered during the Yorkist domin- 
 ation, no one was so harshly treated as the widow 
 of" The Stout Earl," who fell on Gladsmuir Heath, 
 fighting for the ancient rights and liberties of En- 
 glishmen. After having heard of Warwick's death, 
 the countess took refuge in the sanctuary of Beau- 
 lieu, and there remained in poverty. On Rich- 
 mond's accession, however, an Act of Parliament 
 was passed to restore her manors. But this, it 
 would seem, was done that she might convey them 
 to the king, and only that of Button was allotted for 
 her maintenance. 
 
 * Wlun Margaret Plantagenet was married to Charles 
 the Rash, Caxton accompanied that royal lady to her new 
 home, and, while in her service in Flanders, learned the art 
 of printing. Having returned to England, and been pre- 
 sented by Anthony Woodville to Edward of York, he, un- 
 der the king's protection, set up his printing-press in tha 
 Almonrv at Westminster.
 
 469 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 From the day when Edward. Prince of Wales, 
 perished in his teens at Tcwkesburv. Margaret of 
 Anjou ceased to influence the controversy with 
 which her name is inseparably associated. 
 
 Margaret lived several years after regaining her 
 freedom ; and, deprived of the crown which her ac- 
 complishments had won, the Lancastrian queen wan- 
 dered sadly from place to place, as if driven by her 
 perturbed spirit to seek something that was no longer 
 to be found. 
 
 Tortured by avenging memory, embittered by un- 
 availing regret, and weary of life, Margaret of An- 
 jou summed up her experience of the world when 
 she wrote in the breviary of her neice, " Vanity of 
 vanities, all is vanity." At length, in August. 1480, 
 the disconsolate queen, after reaching the age of 
 twoscore and ten, breathed her last at Damprierre, 
 and was buried by the side of her father in the 
 Cathedral of Angers.
 
 CHAPTER LIT. 
 
 THE UNION OF THE TWO ROSES. 
 
 AT the time of the battle of Bosworth the eldest 
 daughter of Edward of York and Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville was immured in the Castle of Sheriff Hutton, 
 within the walls of which her cousin, Edward Plan- 
 tagenet, was also secure. After Richmond's victory 
 both were removed to London : Elizabeth of York 
 by high and mighty dames, to be restored to the 
 arms of her mother ; Edward of Warwick by a 
 band of hireling soldiers, to be delivered into the 
 hands of a jailer and imprisoned in the Tower.* 
 
 It soon appeared that Richmond was not particu- 
 larly eager to wed the Yorkist princess. He was 
 not, however, to escape a marriage. When Parlia- 
 ment met, and the king sat on the throne, and the 
 
 * After a long and cruel captivity, Warwick was, in 1499, 
 executed on Tower Hill, "for no other offense," says Dug- 
 dale, "than being the only male Plantagenet at that time 
 living, and consequently the most rightful heir to the throne." 
 Fuller, in his Worthies of England, says that " Henry, being 
 of a new lineage and surname, knew full well how the nation 
 hankered after the name of Plantagenet ; which, as it did 
 outsyllable Tudor in the mouths, so did it outvie it in ths 
 hearts of the English.'
 
 470 THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Commons presented a grant of tonnage and pound- 
 age for life, they plainly requested that he would 
 marry Elizabeth of York ; and the lords, spiritual 
 and temporal, bowed to indicate their concurrence 
 in the prayer. Richmond, perceiving that there 
 was no way by which to retreat, replied that he 
 was ready and willing to take the princess to wife. 
 The marriage of Henry Tudor and Elizabeth of 
 York was fixed for the 18th of January, 1486, and 
 the ceremony was performed at Westminster. The 
 primate, soon to be laid in his grave and succeeded 
 by the Bishop of Ely, officiated on the occasion, and 
 every thing went joyously. The knights and nobles 
 of England exhibited their bravery at a grand tour- 
 nament ; the citizens of London feasted and danced ; 
 the populace sang songs and lighted bonfires; the 
 claims of the King of Portugal, the heir of John of 
 Gaunt, and the existence of Edward Plantagenet, 
 Earl of Warwick, the heir of Lionel of Clarence, 
 were conveniently forgotten ; and the marriage of 
 a spurious Lancastrian prince and an illegitimate 
 daughter of York was celebrated by poets and 
 chroniclers as "The Union of the two Roses." 
 
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 LITTLE PAUL; or, How to be Patient in Sickns anc 
 Pain. 
 
 Some of the Story Books are written particularly for girls, aui 
 M?ree for Boys, and the different Volumes are adapted to v-arlf.T> 
 tiff.9, that the work forms a Complete Library of Story Roots tea 
 11 (he Ch^Vd.-en of the Family and the Snadajr-SchooL
 
 Books by the Abbott*. 
 
 ABBOTTS' ILLUSTRATED HISTOKIKS. 
 
 Biographical Histories. By JACOB ABBOTT and Jonx .% 
 D. ABBOTT. The Volumes of this Series are printed and 
 bound uniformly, and are embellished with numerous Engrav- 
 tigs. IGmo, Cloth, $1 00 per volume. Trice of the set (32 
 rols.), $3200. 
 
 A series of volumes containing severally full accounts of the lives, 
 characters, and exploits of the most distinguished sovereigns, j.o- 
 tentates, and rulers that have been chiefly renowned among man- 
 kind, in the various ages of the world, from the earliest periods to 
 the present day. 
 
 The successive volumes of the series, though they each contain 
 the life of a single individual, and constitute thus a distinct and in- 
 dependent work, follow each other in the main, in regular historical 
 order, and each one continues the general narrative of history down 
 to the period at which the next volume takes up the story ; so that 
 the whole series presents to the reader a connected narrative of the 
 line of general history from ;he present age back to the remotest 
 Imes. 
 
 The narratives are intended to be succinct and comprehensive, and 
 are written in a very plain and simple style. They are, however, not 
 juvenile in their character, nor intended exclusively for the young. 
 The volumes are sufficiently large to allow each history to comprise 
 all the leading facts in the life of the personage who is the subject 
 of it, and thus to communicate all the information in respect to him 
 which is necessary for the purposes of the general reader. 
 
 Such being the design and character of the works, they would 
 seem to be specially adapted, not only for family reading, but also 
 for district, town, school, and Sunday-school libraries, as well as for 
 text-books in literary seminaries. 
 
 The plan of the series, and the manner in which the design haa 
 been carried out by the author in the execution of it, have been high- 
 ly commended by the press in all parts of the country. The whol 
 jeries has been introduced into the school libraries of several ef th 
 nrgest and most influential states. 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S OPINION OF ABBOTTS' HISTOIUF.B. In eon 
 tyrsation icith the President just before his death, Mr. Lincoln said: "1 
 ftant to thank you and your brother for A bbotts' series of Histories. 1 
 lave not education enough to appreciate the profound works of volu- 
 minous liistoriany; and if I had. I hare no time to read them. But 
 your series of Histories gives me, in brief compass, just that knowledgt 
 *f past men and events u-hkh I need. I hare read them with the {Trent- 
 tsf \vttrtst. To them /urn indebted fit about all the historical knotvl 
 i-i- J *-"
 
 Books by the Abbotts. 
 
 CYRUS THE GREAT. 
 
 DARIUS THE GREAT. 
 
 XERXES. 
 
 ALEXANDER THE GREAT. 
 
 FvOMULUS. 
 
 HANNIBAL. 
 
 PYRRHUS. 
 
 JULIUS C-SJSAR. 
 
 CLEOPATRA. 
 
 NERO. 
 
 ALFRED THE GREAT. 
 
 "WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR 
 
 RICHARD I. 
 
 RICHARD II. 
 
 RICHARD III. 
 
 MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 
 
 QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
 CHARLES I. 
 
 CHARLES II. 
 
 JOSEPHINE. 
 
 MARIA ANTOINETTE. 
 
 MADAME ROLAND. 
 
 HENRY IV. 
 
 PETER THE GREAT. 
 
 GENGHIS KHAN. 
 
 KING PHILIP. 
 
 HERNANDO CORTEZ. 
 
 MARGARET OF ANJOU. 
 
 JOSEPH BONAPARTE. 
 
 QUEEN HORTENSE. 
 
 LOUIS XIV. 
 
 LOUIS PHILIPPE.
 
 tiooks by tin AM.otts. 
 
 THE LITTLE LEARNER SERIES. 
 
 A Series for Very Young Children. Designed to Assist in 
 the Earliest Development of the Mind of a Child, while under 
 
 - Mother's Special Care, during the first Five or Six Years 
 of its Life. By JACOB ABBOTT. Beautifully Illustrated. 
 Complete in 5 Small 4to Volumes, Cloth, 90 cents per Vol. 
 Price of the set, in case, $4 r>0. 
 
 LEARNING TO TALK ; or, Entertaining and Instruct- 
 ive Lessons in the Use of Language. 1 70 Engravings. 
 
 LEARNING TO THINK : consisting of Easy and En- 
 tertaining Lessons, designed to Assist in the First Unfold- 
 ing of the Reflective and Reasoning Powers of Children. 
 
 1 'JO Engravings. 
 
 LEARNING TO READ ; consisting of Easy and En- 
 tertaining Lessons, designed to Assist Young Children in 
 Studying the Forms of the Letters, and in beginning to 
 Read. I GO Engravings. 
 
 LEARNING ABOUT COMMON THINGS; or, 
 
 Familiar Instruction for Children in respect to the Ob-- 
 jects around them that attract their Attention and awaken 
 their Curiosity in the Earliest Years of Life. 120 En- 
 gravings. 
 
 LEARNING ABOUT RIGHT AND WRONG ; cr, 
 
 Entertaining and Instructive Lessons for Young Children 
 in respect to their Duty. 90 Engravings.
 
 Books Inj tits Abbotts. 
 
 KINGS AND QUEENS; or, Life in the Palace: con- 
 sisting of Historical Sketches of Josephine nnd Maria Lou- 
 isa, Louis Philippe, Ferdinand of Austria, Nicholas, Isa- 
 bella II., Leopold, Victoria, and Louis Napoleon. By 
 JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 A SUMMER IN SCOTLAND : a Narrative of Ob- 
 servations and Adventures made by the Author during a 
 Summer spent among the Glens and Highlands in Scot- 
 land. By JACOB ABBOTT. Illustrated. 12mo,Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. By 
 
 JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. Illustrated, i 2mo, Cloth, $2 CO. 
 
 THE TEACHER. Moral Influences Employed in the 
 Instruction and Government of the Young. By JACOB 
 ABBOTT. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75. 
 
 GENTLE MEASURES IN TRAINING THE 
 YOUNG. Gentle Measures in the Management and 
 Training of the Young: or, The Principles on which a 
 Firm Parental Authority may be Established and Main- 
 tained without Violence or Anger, and the Right Devel- 
 opment of the Moral and Mental Capacities be Promoted 
 by Methods in Harmony with the Structure .nnd the Char- 
 acteristics of the Juvenile Mind. A Book for the Parents 
 of Young Children. By JACOB ABBOTT. Illustrated. 
 12mo, Cloth, $1 75.
 
 POPULAR HISTORIES 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. 
 
 HISTORY OF FREDERICK THE GREAT. 
 
 The History of Frederick the Second, called Frederick the 
 Great. By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. Elegantly Illustrated. 
 8vo, Cloth, $5 CO. 
 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 
 
 The French Revolution of 1789, as Viewed in the Light of 
 Republican Institutions. By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. With 
 100 Engravings. 8vo, Cloth, 5 00. 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 
 
 The History of Napoleon Bonaparte. By JOHN S. C. AB- 
 BOTT. With Maps, Woodcuts, and Portraits on Steel 
 2 vols., 8vo, Cloth, $10 00. 
 
 NAPOLEON AT ST. HELENA. 
 
 Napoleon at St. Helena; or, Interesting Anecdotes and Re- 
 markable Conversations of the Emperor during the Five 
 and a Half Years of his Captivity. Collected from the 
 Memorials of Las Casns, O'Mearn, Montholon, Antom- 
 marchi, and others. By JOHN S. ( '. ABBOTT. With Il- 
 lustrations. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00.
 
 SCIENCE 
 FOR THE YOUNG. 
 
 BY JACOB ABBOTT. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 HEAT. 12mo, Cloth, $1 50. 
 
 LIGHT. 12mo, Cloth, $1 50. 
 
 WATER AND LAND. 12mo, Cloth, 81 SO. 
 
 FORCE. 12mo, Cloth, $1 50. 
 
 Few men enjoy a wider or better earned popularity as a. writer 
 for the young thau Jacob Abbott. His scries of histories, aud sto- 
 ries illustrative of moral truth?, have furnished amusement and in- 
 struction to thousands. He has the knack of piquing and gratifying 
 curiosity. In the book before us he shows his happy faculty of im- 
 parting useful information through the medium of a pleasant nar- 
 rative, keeping alive the interest of the young reader, and fixing in 
 his memory valuable truths. Mercury, New Bedford, Mass. 
 
 Jacob Abbott is almost the only writer in the English language 
 who knows how to combine real amusement with real instruction 
 in such a manner that the eager young readers are quite as much 
 interested in the useful knowledge he imparts as in the story which 
 he makes so pleasant a medium of instruction. Buffalo Commercial 
 Advertiser. 
 
 * * * Mr. Abbott has avoided the errors so common with writers 
 for popular eflect, that of slurring over the difficulties of the subject 
 through the desire of making it intelligible and attractive to nn- 
 learned readers. He never tampers with the truth of science, nor 
 attempts to dodge the solution of a knotty problem behind a cloud 
 of plausible illustrations. JV. Y. Tribune.
 
 BY JOHJN S. C. ABBOTT. 
 
 CHILD AT HOME. 
 
 The Child at Home ; or, the Principles of Filial Duty famil- 
 iarly Illustrated. By Jou\ S. C. ABBOTT. Woodcuts. 
 IGmo. Cloth, $1 CO. 
 
 The duties and trials peculiar to the child are explained and iU 
 lustrnted in this volume in the same clear and attractive manner 
 in which those of the mother are set forth in the ''Mother at Home." 
 These two works may be considered as forming a complete manual 
 of filial and maternal relations. 
 
 MOTHER AT HOME. 
 
 The Mother at Home ; or, the Principles of Maternal Duty 
 familiarly Illustrated. By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. Engrav- 
 ings. IGmo, Cloth, $1 00. 
 
 This book treats of the important questions of maternal responsi- 
 bility and authority; of the difficulties which the mother will ex- 
 perience, the errors to whhh she is liable, the methods and plans 
 she should adopt ; of the religious instruction which she should 
 impart, and of the results which she may reasonably hope will fol- 
 low her f.iithful and persevering exertions. These subjects are 
 illustrated with the felicity characteristic of all the productions of 
 the author. 
 
 PRACTICAL CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 Practical Christianity. A Treatise specially designed for 
 Young Men. By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. IGmo, Cloth, 
 
 $1 00. 
 
 It is characterized by the simplicity of style and appositeness of 
 fllnstration which make a book easily read and readily understood. 
 It is designed to instruct and interest young men in the effectual 
 truths of Christianity. It comes down to their plane of thought, 
 and, in a genial, conversational way, strives to lead them to a life 
 of godliness. Watchman and Reflector. 
 
 It abounds in wise aud practical suggestions. .V. }'. Commercial 
 Advertiser.